Towards a Dark Horizon

by Maureen Reynolds

  ‘Was it an accident?’

  He shook his head. ‘We don’t know. There will be an inquiry into it and maybe the truth will come out then.’

  Lily sat in silence, her eyes huge and round.

  Dad went on, ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be home but I’ll get some fish and chips so don’t keep anything hot for me, Ann.’ On that note, he darted through the door. He was back within a minute. ‘Oh, blast it! I’ve just remembered I was to see Rosie tonight. I was going to tell her that I had the grass to cut and that I couldn’t stay for my tea.’ He gave me a pleading look. ‘Could you tell her about the change in the plan?’

  He didn’t wait for an answer so I had no option. Still, in the circumstances, I didn’t mind. Poor Harry – I didn’t know him well but I used to see him when I passed the warehouse door when Dad first started his job there. He seemed an ordinary, pleasant and hard-working man.

  I found Rosie in her house. She was standing by the cooker with a spoon in her hand. Something brown bubbled in a pot and she was engrossed in stirring this glutinous mixture. She was wearing her sludge-coloured skirt and a bright floral apron with an enormous pink frill around its edge.

  She looked up in alarm when I entered. ‘Och, it’s you, Ann.’ She smiled. ‘Where’s your Dad?’

  ‘He can’t come tonight, Rosie.’

  A red flush tinged her cheeks and she looked angry. ‘What’s wrong with him now?’

  I told her the story and she suddenly lost her sullen expression. Sympathy flooded her face and she sat down. ‘Och, what a terrible thing to happen! That poor old woman, Mrs Connors. What will she do now?’

  So Dad hadn’t enlightened her about Margot’s age or her looks. As far as Rosie was concerned she was a poor old widow.

  She switched off the gas ring and put a lid on the pot. ‘I’ll keep this for him because he’ll need a meal when he gets back.’

  ‘Dad said he would get fish and chips, Rosie. I’m not keeping his tea for him.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right, Ann, but I’ll just keep it in case he wants it.’

  It was like talking to a brick wall. Rosie really thought Dad would immediately run to her after his visit to the grieving widow. Maybe it was a blessing that she didn’t know the fair Margot.

  She came through to Granny’s house with me and I repeated the awful story.

  Rosie sat with her hands folded on the riotously floral apron and nodded in sympathy. ‘It must be awful when your man dies,’ she said, ‘especially when you’re old. It will be a blow to her but your dad will know what to say, Ann. He’s really good with words.’

  Granny looked at me wordlessly. I had described Mrs Connors and the house in detail to her and we both knew Rosie was living in a fool’s paradise.

  After she left, Granny said, ‘Somebody will have to tell her the truth, Ann. She’s under the illusion that your Dad’s dealing with a doddery old woman of seventy.’

  ‘But surely, now that her man’s body has been found, Dad will not have to visit her so often. It was just because the man was missing.’

  Granny looked doubtful. ‘Well, we’ll just have to hope so.’

  I knew Margot was an attractive woman but she wasn’t in the same class as us. She had money and a lovely home. Why would she want Dad’s company? I said this to Granny.

  ‘I expect you’re right, Ann, but I just hope he doesn’t cast Rosie aside for some cheap flirtation like he’s done before. I’m not saying this Mrs Connors will be serious about your father but that won’t stop her liking him, will it?’

  No indeed.

  Much later that night he arrived home. He looked weary.

  I asked him how Mrs Connors was.

  ‘She’s bearing up well although it was a great shock to her. She aye thought he would turn up out of the blue – like he’d lost his memory and wandered away. It seemingly happens to folk quite a lot.’ He sighed loudly. ‘His sister however was a different kettle of fish. She wouldn’t stop wailing.’

  He slumped down on the chair and rubbed his eyes.

  ‘Harry’s sister seemed really fond of him,’ I said.

  He sighed again. ‘Oh, she was but that doesn’t mean she can cast aspersions on Margot.’

  Minutes before I had been tired but I now perked up. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Och, it’s just rubbish,’ he said. ‘She said that Harry wasn’t happy living with his wife.’

  ‘And is it true?’

  ‘How should I know? Mr Pringle was also taken aback by her statement. In all the years he’s known him, Harry has never said a word about his wife. Mind you, Margot is Harry’s second wife. I didn’t know that. His first wife died ten years ago and he’s been married to Margot for the past six years.’

  I was surprised but I should have guessed it – there was the difference in their ages for one thing.

  ‘What did Margot say when her sister-in-law said that?’

  ‘She didn’t say much – just shook her head sadly at her. She told Mr Pringle and me later that Olivia had liked the first wife very much but had never taken to Margot. She said that if Harry was unhappy with his marriage then he never said a word to her. As for her, well she loved him very much.’

  ‘When will the funeral take place?’

  ‘Next week sometime, I think. There has to be a post-mortem before he can be buried. We all think it was a bad accident. He was forever walking by the edge of the docks and we think he tripped over something and fell in. It’s just so sad and him just a wee while away from retirement.’

  He stopped speaking and looked at me. I waited because I knew that look. He was about to say something and he wasn’t sure of my reaction. I wasn’t wrong.

  ‘I was just thinking, Ann, how are the funds?’ He was referring to our small amount of money which I tried to save every week from our wages.

  I took the tin down from the mantelpiece and tipped the money into my lap. ‘There’s three pounds, five shillings and sixpence,’ I told him, placing all the coins on the table.

  He rubbed the back of his neck – another giveaway sign that he was unsure of how I was going to take something.

  Suddenly he blurted out, ‘It’s just that we’ve all got to give two bob each for a wreath at the work.’

  I breathed a sigh of relief – two bob was all right.

  But he wasn’t finished. ‘Another thing, Ann, I need a new suit. The one I’ve got is getting really shabby looking.’ As if to emphasise the shabbiness he went into his tiny bedroom and brought out the suit.

  Although I knew he’d had it for years, long before Mum’s death, it was still serviceable. I didn’t say so because I had the strong feeling that he had thought this out for weeks. He had never bothered much about sartorial elegance before but, since meeting Margot, it now seemed of prime importance.

  ‘It’s because I’ve been going around with Mr Pringle, Ann. I aye look like a tink compared to him and I would like to look smart at the funeral.’

  I suddenly realised how selfish I had been and I handed him the tin with the money. ‘Will that be enough for a suit, Dad?’

  ‘Och, aye – I’m not wanting anything from Saville Row. A suit from the Fifty Shilling tailors in the Murraygate will be fine.’

  On the Saturday afternoon, he went shopping and came back with a lovely dark-navy suit which suited his slim figure. He was also carrying a few brown-paper packages from McGill’s shop. He saw me looking at them and he explained, his neck getting redder by the minute, ‘I paid cash for the suit but I got a shirt, tie and a new pair of shoes on tick from McGill’s.’ He opened the parcels to show me.

  Lily danced around him, saying, ‘Oh, you look great, Dad – just like a film star!’

  I had to admit I thought the same. Clothes made such a difference as I had experienced with the lovely cashmere coat that the late Mrs Barrie had given me – the one that Miss Hood had destroyed so viciously.

  ‘Aye you look life a real toff, Dad,’ I said truthfully.
/>
  He smiled and I realised he was still a very handsome man. Did Margot think the same?

  He began to speak rapidly. ‘I know you don’t like getting things on tick, Ann, but I’ll pay the two bob every week and I’ll cut down on my cigarettes.’

  I felt rotten about not offering him money from my legacy but I was trying to leave it untouched except in the direst emergency. Lily still had a lot of growing up to do and that was money for her.

  I smiled at him. ‘Och, don’t worry about it, Dad. I’ll manage another couple of bob a week without you cutting back on your fags.’

  The funeral was held the following week and Mr Pringle closed the warehouse for the morning to allow all the staff to pay their respects to the late lamented Harry.

  Dad arrived back that evening. He looked worn out and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. ‘It was a big funeral, Ann. Harry was well thought of at work and I really liked him a lot.’

  ‘How were Mrs Connors and her sister-in-law?’

  ‘Margot was fine but Harry’s sister was just the same as she was when the body was found. Her man tried to keep her quiet afterwards but she started to throw loads of accusations at Margot.’ He sounded weary.

  ‘What did she say? Was it the same as last time?’

  His face took on an expression of distaste. ‘Aye – that and other things. She told Mr Pringle that Margot was aye spending Harry’s money and she even hinted that it wasn’t an accident.’

  I was shocked. ‘If it wasn’t an accident, then what was it?’

  ‘Well, her man shut her up at that point and took her home. Thank the Lord that the other men didn’t hear her. I was with Mr Pringle in Margot’s house and that’s where the accusations took place. Poor Mr Pringle – he didn’t know what to think or say but I said it was just warring women and he agreed with me.’

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘the fatal accident inquiry into his death will make it clear surely.’

  He nodded. ‘I hope so.’

  I was making the tea when he said, ‘Oh, by the way, Margot has asked me to bring my family to see her on Sunday afternoon.’

  I stopped peeling the potatoes and turned to stare at him in amazement. ‘You mean she wants Lily and me to visit her?’

  He nodded. ‘And your granny, plus Hattie and Danny if they want to come. I didn’t mention your grandad because you know he never goes anywhere where he can’t smoke his pipe.’

  I was perplexed. ‘Why does she want to see us?’

  He looked smug. ‘She just wants to say a big thank you for all the help I’ve given her during this terrible time.’

  Well that was nice of her, I thought. ‘So you’ll be asking everybody tonight then Dad because it’ll not be long till Sunday?’

  He nodded. ‘I thought I would come with you to the Overgate when you take Lily there later and I could go over to the Westport and see Hattie and Danny.’

  Well that was the plan but, like all well-laid plans, it didn’t go quite as smoothly as he thought. First of all, Bella was firmly seated in the best chair when we reached the Overgate. As he said later, with hindsight, he should have waited with the invitation instead of wading straight in with the proposal. Granny was pleased but Bella was over the moon. Dad tried to backtrack but Bella wouldn’t listen.

  ‘Och, that’s real decent of the woman to invite your family to her house. Is she putting on a meal?’

  Dad looked panic-stricken and gave Granny a wordless, appealing look.

  Granny turned to Bella. ‘I think it’s just the immediate family, Bella – Lily and Ann.’

  The penny dropped. ‘Well, does that mean you’re not going, Nan?’

  ‘That’s right, Bella. I’ve not been asked.’

  Dad threw her a grateful look. ‘It’s just Ann, Lily, Hattie and Danny.’

  I could almost hear Granny groan inwardly.

  Bella was outraged. ‘She’s asked your sister and her laddie but not your own mother. Well, I think it’s a damn disgrace. Och, aye, ask the toffs in the family and not the rest.’

  Dad escaped through the door but we had to listen to Bella’s moans for ages. Then Rosie appeared and that added fuel to Bella’s fire.

  Rosie said, ‘Did I hear Johnny’s voice on the stair?’

  Before we could answer, Bella butted in, ‘Aye, you did but I expect you’ll not be getting asked to the soirée.’

  Rosie was puzzled but Bella explained. Rosie looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders and wished that the whole thing had never been mentioned.

  I said, ‘As far as I know, Rosie, it’s just the immediate family that’s been invited. It’s just a wee thank you for all his help in her time of trouble.’

  Then Dad reappeared from the Westport and stopped dead when he saw Rosie.

  Bella started her tirade again, ‘You’ve a hard neck, Johnny Neill, for not asking Rosie to go with you – and her aye helping you out.’

  It was Rosie’s turn to look embarrassed but, as usual, Bella wouldn’t give up. So, as a result of this stramash, the company on Sunday now comprised of Hattie, Danny, Lily, Rosie, Dad and me – and Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

  Before the big occasion Rosie asked me to her house for some advice. She was excited but nervous. ‘What will I wear on Sunday, Ann?’

  She opened her wardrobe and I was dismayed. It held quite a few dingy-looking clothes in shades of brown, sludgy beige and one particularly old-fashioned-looking frock in a horrible muddy green. It was a wardrobe more suited to her mother. She held up one disaster of a frock after another. Her hair hung heavy on her shoulders and she smelled of carbolic soap.

  I decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘Rosie, as it’s a special thank you to Dad, why not treat yourself to a new frock in a bonny colour and in a modern design?’

  She gave me a look as if I was mad. ‘But I’ve got loads of frocks here. I don’t want to squander money on another one, Ann.’

  ‘But for this special occasion, Rosie – please?’

  She gave me another queer look and shook her head. I knew I was beaten.

  On the Sunday, we made our way to Margot’s house in two groups. Dad had said he didn’t want us all descending on her like Attila and his horde of Huns so Rosie went with Lily and Dad while I went with Hattie and Danny. It was so good to see Danny again. I had missed his company so much but I also wanted his advice on Margot.

  It was a lovely warm autumn day and the house had a tranquil air as we approached it through a garden full of colourful autumn tints.

  Hattie was almost beside herself with pleasure. ‘This is the kind of house I would love to live in.’

  Danny gave me a sidelong look and his eyes were filled with laughter. We were all so used to Hattie and her ideas of grandeur.

  Margot opened the door in her usual elegant manner. Her dress was a beautiful, bias-cut model in a rich shade of russet red. She had a lovely string of pearls around her throat and a matching pair of earrings. A slim gold watch encircled her narrow wrist and the effect was stunning. Even Hattie was dumbstruck.

  The interior was as I remembered it except that the large bowls of roses were now filled with autumn arrangements – a riot of multicoloured leaves and berries.

  A few minutes after our arrival, Dad appeared with Rosie and Lily. Poor Rosie had decided to wear the horrible green frock and she had chosen her most comfortable pair of shoes. She looked like a frumpy old woman next to the delicately beautiful Margot. Margot however was charming to us all and we sat in her elegant lounge with glasses of sherry while the two men had beer.

  I found it amusing that we were all sitting around her. Like she was the queen and we were mere peasants at her court. She provided a lovely afternoon tea but I managed to catch her on an unguarded moment when everyone was either eating or talking. She was summing us up. I suppose she had already dismissed Lily and me but I didn’t like the amused gleam in her eyes when Rosie kept mentioning Dad’s name. No, I didn’t like it one bit.

  I could see that she
was unsure of Hattie and with good reason. For a start, Hattie, in her fashionable royal-blue suit with matching shoes, was better dressed than she was and Hattie was also better spoken than the rest of us. As for Danny … well, she could barely keep her eyes away from him and I was thankful he was far too young for her. But was Dad?

  After tea she made a little speech about the sad death of her husband. She ended by saying, ‘I would never have managed if it hadn’t been for Johnny. He’s been a tower of strength to me and I won’t forget it.’ She threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss.

  I glanced over at Rosie and she was white faced. Her lips clamped together in a thin annoyed-looking line which, for some reason, only emphasised her untidy hair.

  Later, after we’d said our goodbyes to Margot, I walked back with Danny. The day was truly beautiful and all the gardens and trees were a mass of colour.

  ‘What did you think of her, Danny?’

  He didn’t speak for a moment or two. Then he turned to look at me. ‘What do you want me to say, Ann? That she’s got your Dad truly hooked or is she mourning the death of her man? Well I think the answer is that your father’s well and truly smitten and she’s the coolest widow woman I’ve seen in a long time.’

  He had only confirmed my own impressions.

  The following week, Rosie came to visit me when Dad was away at Margot’s. She said, ‘I just want to thank you, Ann, for trying to help me with my clothes. I know now why you wanted me to buy something more fashionable and I just wish I had listened to you. But your dad told me Mrs Connors was an old woman.’ She shook her head and I saw tears in her eyes. ‘And he was lying to me.’

  7

  One morning in late December, Danny suddenly appeared in the shop. The weather had turned much colder and the lovely golden autumn was now a fond memory. He was well wrapped up against the bitter east wind which blew coldly into the shop every time someone came through the door. Although the bell above the door was meant to ring when a customer entered, on this particular morning, the wind added strength to it and it jangled noisily.

  Connie was getting a bit tired of this noise and she had threatened more than once to bend the coiled spring which supported it. ‘I’m going to sort out that ruddy bell once and for all,’ she said as it clanged noisily once more. She scowled at the door and Danny hesitated.