Brow of the Gallowgate

by Doris Davidson

  ‘They’ve all had to go out, but you three can have yours just now, and I’ll wait for Father.’ The very thought of eating made Bathie’s stomach cramp. ‘Set the table for yourselves, Ellie, there’s a good girl.’

  Annie returned while the girls were still eating. ‘The doctor’s wife never seen Charlie at all, so he musta got lost afore he even got there.’

  Fighting down her mounting hysteria, Bathie passed on Albert’s instructions, and Annie went out again obediently, but Ellie fastened on to the girl’s last few words.

  ‘Is Charlie lost, Mother?’

  Fragile nerves made Bathie snap. ‘You heard what Annie said, so stop asking.’ She regretted her sharpness when she saw Ellie biting her lip to stop it quivering.

  The girl didn’t touch the rest of her dinner, which was most unusual, but waited until Flo and Gracie were finished before she stood up. ‘Come upstairs with me,’ she ordered them. ‘Mother wants some peace.’

  As her daughters made for the door, Bathie said, softly, ‘Thank you, Ellie, dear.’

  Clearing the dishes, it struck her that a good, strong cup of tea might buck her up, but her actions were slow when she moved over to rinse out the teapot, and it took a great effort to lift the tea caddy down from the mantelshelf.

  It was almost half past three, a good hour after Annie had gone out again, before Bathie heard voices and feet on the outside stairs and ran to the kitchen door with her arms held out, sure that one of the searchers had found Charlie. Her smile faded when she saw that it was Maggie, accompanied by a tall policeman, who removed his helmet when he entered.

  ‘Charlie’s not . . . ?’ she gasped, anxiously,

  ‘I havena seen him.’ Maggie shook her head sadly. ‘This bobby came oot when I was passin’ Lodge Walk, so I tell’t him aboot Charlie, an’ he came to see if the bairn had come back.’

  The uniformed man stepped forward. ‘I’d be glad if you could give me a description of the boy and the clothes he was wearing. Anything that would help us to identify him.’

  He noted down the details as Bathie gave them, then said, ‘When did you see him last?’

  ‘About twenty past twelve.’

  The iron band round Bathie’s heart was easing a little. She felt that she could place her trust in this man, ordinary constable though he was, for his round healthy face was full of concern and his eyes full of compassion. ‘He went to get the doctor for my other son, when we were coming home from church,’ she told him.

  ‘Where’s your doctor’s house? That should give us some idea of where to start looking.’

  ‘It’s in Froghall, off the Spital, but he never reached there.’ Bathie’s hands clutched nervously at her skirt.

  ‘He could have missed the turning, and if he’d kept on walking, he’d have . . .’ The policeman halted, then said briskly, ‘We’ll find him, so try not to worry.’

  Maggie took off her coat when the policeman left. ‘Have you had ony dinner yet, Mrs Ogilvie?’

  ‘I gave the girls theirs, but I just had a cup of tea.’

  ‘That was a good while ago, I’ll be bound, so I’ll mak’ you another cup, but I’d best go up the stair first, to see what mischief Ellie’s been up to.’

  ‘She knows Charlie’s lost, and realizes how worried I am, and she’s kept Flo and Gracie upstairs ever since.’

  ‘Well I never, but I’ll go up just the same.’

  Maggie looked surprised when she returned. ‘She’s readin’ to them, would you credit? There’s hope for oor Ellie yet.’

  ‘They might be needing something to drink, too, for it’s quite a while since they had anything.’

  ‘I said I’d tak’ up milk an’ biscuits once we’ve had oor ain cuppie.’

  They had just sat down to drink their ‘cuppie’ when Annie came running in. ‘Is Charlie back yet?’ She sank breathlessly on to a chair, the hope in her eyes fading at the grave expression on the other two women’s faces.

  ‘The bobbies are goin’ to be lookin’ for him.’ Maggie poured out another cup of tea.

  Lifting it thoughtfully, Annie said, ‘What a thing for this to happen the same day as your other two got the fever, Mrs Ogilvie. It’s right enough what they say aboot troubles never comin’ single, isn’t it?’

  Her other two! Disgust at herself almost overwhelmed Bathie. She hadn’t given a thought to Hetty and Donnie since she’d realized that Charlie was missing. She’d forgotten that Albert had taken them to hospital, and hadn’t even asked about them when he came back.

  Frowning at her sister for upsetting the mistress, Maggie said, ‘Dinna fret yoursel’ aboot Donnie an’ Hetty, Mrs Ogilvie. They’re in the right place, an’ the nurses in the fever hospital are used wi’ little bairns.’

  Annie tried to redeem herself. ‘Aye, they get them to stop greetin’ for their ma in nae time.’

  Had Hetty and Donnie been crying because their mother wasn’t there? Poor lambs, and their mother had forgotten all about them. Every inch of Bathie’s tense body turned ice-cold, but she forced herself to say something, anything, to stop herself from breaking down altogether. ‘Have you any idea how long they’ll be kept in the fever hospital, Maggie?’

  ‘I think it’s aboot six weeks or so, dependin’ how bad they’ve got it, but they’ll nae be let oot till they’re clear o’ the infection, in case they smit the rest of the family.’

  ‘I’ll go to see them as soon as Charlie’s been found.’

  Maggie’s sorrowful eyes narrowed with pity. ‘You’ll nae get inside, mind. They just let you look at them through the window, for fear you catch it, an’ all.’

  ‘They’ll have to let me in when I say I’m their mother.’ Bathie was indignant now.

  ‘It’s the rules, Mrs Ogilvie, so dinna get upset.’

  Not get upset? Bathie had believed that she couldn’t feel worse than she’d done over the past few hours, but this was a further catastrophe. She’d never dreamt that she would be kept from hugging her sick children in hospital, but at least, she would see them, if only through a window. Would she ever see Charlie again?

  At half past five, Albert dragged his aching feet up the outside stairs. ‘Has he . . . ?’ His shoulders sagged when he saw the worry still stamped on their faces.

  Although her first inclination had been to run to her husband for comfort, Bathie remained seated – he looked in need of comfort himself. ‘The police are looking for him now, Albert, so sit down and have something to eat.’

  Annie jumped to her feet. ‘Aye, Mr Ogilvie, you look fair dead beat. I’m makin’ some scrambled eggs for the lassies, but if you want, I’ll easy heat up some o’ the beef an’ vegies.’

  ‘Thank you, Annie, but I’m not hungry.’ The hopelessness in his voice dismayed them. ‘A cup of tea’s all I want.’

  The noise of the metal whisk, as Annie beat the eggs in a bowl, was the only sound in the kitchen for a time, but when the mixture was poured into the pan, Maggie stood up.

  ‘I’ll set a tray to tak’ their supper up.’

  Albert disappeared into the parlour, leaving his wife to wonder what he intended to do, and when he returned, she was amazed to see him holding a bottle of brandy in his hand.

  ‘I think we’d all be the better for a drop of this,’ he said. ‘God knows how long we’ll have to wait, so we’ll maybe have a long night in front of us, and brandy’s the best thing to steady our nerves.’

  Bathie had never tasted brandy before, and she’d no doubt that Maggie and Annie hadn’t, either, but one glass wouldn’t do them any harm. Nor Albert, she reflected compassionately, as long as he stuck to only one.

  ‘Just a small glass each, then,’ she told him.

  Later, while Annie tidied up, Maggie went upstairs to make sure that her remaining charges were ready for bed, and Albert went outside to fill the coal scuttles for the kitchen, the parlour and the nursery.

  When they were all seated again, Bathie said, ‘You’d better go home, Annie, when you’re finished th
ere. Your mother will be worrying about you.’

  ‘I’m not goin’ oot o’ this hoose till I see young Charlie back, safe an’ sound,’ Annie retorted, hands on her hips and feet planted wide-apart on the floor.

  It was heartwarming to Albert that the little housemaid was just as concerned for Charlie’s safety as the rest of them. ‘So be it, but we’d all be more comfortable in the parlour.’

  They left Annie stoking up the range – ‘We’ll maybe need a puckle cups o’ tea to see us through’ – and went into the other room, where Bathie half collapsed into one of the easy chairs. Maggie waited politely for Albert to seat himself on the other one before she sat down on the couch, but he couldn’t settle, and paced backwards and forwards by the window.

  Bathie lifted her head. ‘Please stop that, Albert, you’re only making things worse. And Maggie, sit down, for goodness sake, you’ve been on the go the whole day.’

  When Annie came in, she sat beside her sister, placing herself, like Maggie, on the edge of the seat, because she felt ill-at-ease sitting down in the parlour.

  The ornate clock on the mantelpiece ticked away minutes which seemed like hours, and at nine o’clock, Annie cleared her throat. ‘I’ll see if the lassies are sleepin’.’

  Her quiet words rang through the silence, the click of the door, as she closed it, echoing like a rifle report in a still clearing, as Maggie murmured, ‘She’s needin’ something to do.’

  Albert jumped to his feet. ‘I can’t stand this, Bathie. It’s my duty as a father to be out looking for Charlie.’

  ‘He’s my son, too,’ Bathie said, softly. ‘Let me come with you this time, Albert. Please?’

  The anguish on her face made up his mind. ‘Only if you promise to come home the minute you feel tired.’

  She was already exhausted, but nodded. ‘I promise. Wait till I get my coat.’ When she came back, her face grey and huge dark shadows framing her sunken eyes, he almost put his foot down and ordered her to stay in the house, but her set, determined mouth made him bite back the words.

  Instead, he said, ‘We’re leaving you in charge, Maggie, and if Charlie does happen to come back, see that he gets something to eat and a hot bath, before he goes to bed.’

  ‘You can depend on me, Mr Ogilvie.’

  He strode down the Gallowgate so quickly that Bathie had a stitch in her side before they arrived at Froghall, where Albert had been heading although she hadn’t realized it. He halted outside Dr McKenzie’s house.

  She was glad of the chance to get her breath back, but couldn’t see the point of wasting time by asking the doctor if he’d seen Charlie. He’d have brought him home, if he had.

  ‘It’s no use going in there,’ she gasped.

  ‘Gavin’s got a trap. He could cover a lot more ground than we can on our feet.’

  ‘You can’t ask him to go out looking.’ She was surprised that her husband could even suggest it.

  ‘I’m sure he’d be very pleased at being asked.’ Albert opened the gate and Bathie followed him up the curving path.

  Gavin McKenzie didn’t wait to be asked. As soon as he opened the door, he said, ‘My wife told me your maid was here looking for Charlie, but I thought he’d have turned up by this time. Look, I’ll harness my shelty and start looking, too.’

  He disappeared into the house, but a minute or so later, his wife came out to speak to them. ‘The boy never reached here,’ she said, sympathetically. ‘Gavin says he still hasn’t come home, but I hope you find him soon.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Bathie’s teeth were chattering now, with cold or fear, or both, she couldn’t really tell.

  Albert gripped her arm as they heard the pony and trap coming round the side of the house. ‘Gavin, I’d be obliged if you’d take Bathie with you, for she’s too tired and upset to carry on walking, but she won’t give in. I’ll carry on looking by myself.’

  Bathie accepted the doctor’s outstretched hand to help her up into the little cart. What was the good of arguing?

  For almost three-quarters of an hour, the pony plodded round side streets in ever-widening circles, without any sign of her son, and Bathie dug her teeth into her lower lip to stop herself from bursting into tears.

  At last, the doctor said, ‘I think we should go straight on for a while. If Charlie missed Froghall, and went on up the Spital, he’d have come to the River Don eventually. I don’t want to alarm you, Bathie, but we have to face facts.’

  Her senses were so numb, now, that nothing could affect her any more. ‘All right,’ she whispered. ‘Whatever you think’s best.’

  The young constable had stopped himself from warning her about this, she realized. He hadn’t wanted to alarm her by hinting that Charlie might have . . . drowned in the treacherous currents of the Don. She closed her mind to the possibility.

  Their eyes searched from side to side as they went slowly along, but in vain. There were few people about this late on a Sunday, and the drizzle had turned to steady rain, making sure that no one went out unless it was necessary.

  Occasionally, they saw a figure, shoulders hunched against the weather, and stopped to ask if he or she had seen a boy wandering about on his own.

  The answer was always no.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘It’s nae use upsettin’ yoursel’ like this, Mary.’ Jeannie Park, née Wyness, patted her sister’s heaving shoulders sympathetically. ‘It winna bring Willie back, an’ you’ve young Will to think aboot.’

  ‘I ken, but . . . oh, I wish we’d never came to Wanganui. If we hadna left Aberdeen, Willie would still be alive. Joiners never have to clim’ aboot on roofs o’ granite-built hooses.’

  Mary Dunbar, also née Wyness, started a renewed bout of weeping, making Robbie Park shake his head briefly at his wife, who ignored the warning.

  ‘It’s a blessin’ Willie didna live, Mary,’ she carried on. ‘The doctor at the hospital tell’t Robbie that he’d ha’e been a vegetable, his heid was that damaged when he fell.’

  Robbie stepped forward and gripped her arm. ‘Jeannie,’ he said firmly, ‘that’s enough.’

  His wife’s words, instead of upsetting Mary further as he’d fearfully expected, seemed to fortify the bereaved woman.

  ‘I’m bein’ selfish.’ Mary held her sodden handkerchief to her eyes. ‘I’m thinkin’ o’ mysel’, when I should be gratefu’ Willie didna ha’e to suffer.’ Gulping, she carried on. ‘It was just that sudden, an’ it’s goin’ to tak’ a lang time for me to get used to it.’

  Jeannie couldn’t help shooting a small glance of triumph at her husband, who acknowledged it with a slight shrug. ‘I’ll mak’ another pot o’ tea,’ she said, ‘then we’ll be gettin’ hame.’

  As she walked away, her other sister, Bella, moved over to speak to the new widow. ‘Matt and I won’t wait for tea, Mary.’

  ‘It was good o’ you both to come.’ As Mary looked up, she marvelled for the hundredth time at the change Matthew Potter had wrought in Bella.

  The youngest Wyness was now a poised, well-spoken woman, with no trace of the guttural Aberdeen accent in which her sisters spoke to each other. Her simple black dress looked expensive, but in very good taste, her blonde hair was drawn back in an elegant chignon and no one who hadn’t known her before could possibly have guessed the kind of person she’d been when she first arrived in New Zealand.

  Beckoning her husband over, Bella took hold of his arm possessively. ‘I was saying that we’d have to leave, Matt.’

  ‘We don’t have to go just yet.’

  ‘You usually can’t wait to get back to your office.’

  ‘They’ll manage without me. I have something to discuss with Mary when everyone else goes.’ His bright eyes dimmed as he turned sympathetically to the woman in black.

  ‘Oh, as you like, then.’ Bella looked displeased, but went over to speak to the man who had been Willie Dunbar’s employer and who was still shocked at what had happened.

  Matt bent his head to his sister-in-law
. ‘I’m afraid Bella’s still quite easily bored,’ he apologized.

  Mary nodded. ‘You’ve worked wonders wi’ her, though.’

  ‘I can’t say it’s because she loves me,’ he said, somewhat ruefully, ‘just my money. I used to think, at one time, that my love for her would be enough to change her completely, but I must admit that I’ve been disillusioned over the years. One-sided love isn’t enough for a marriage, and fades with neglect.’

  ‘She must care for you a bit,’ Mary protested, ‘for she wouldna stop on wi’ you if she didna.’

  He smiled, but was prevented from saying anything more by Jeannie’s entrance.

  ‘Sit doon, everybody, so I can hand roon’ the cups.’

  While the mourners were thus occupied, Mary studied Matt. He was tall and very handsome, with a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes, and he was a lot better than her sister deserved. She wondered idly what he wanted to discuss with her. If he was going to offer money, she’d refuse, for she wasn’t going to be a beggar even if she hadn’t two bawbees to rub together, and her poor man had always made a point of being independent.

  Just look how Mr Ogilvie’d had to persist until Willie agreed to take the two attics in the Gallowgate. Oh, they’d been good days, happy days, there. She often had a little weep when she remembered the bairns she’d looked after – Charlie and Donnie, Ellie and little Flo, born the same day as her Will.

  She and Jeannie often reminisced about that day. Dr McKenzie and their mother had been running round in circles attending to the two confinements. Poor Ma. She hadn’t lasted long after she came to New Zealand, and she’d flatly refused to tell them what had made her leave Aberdeen.

  Mary had the suspicion that it was something that Bella had done, but she couldn’t imagine what would have been bad enough to make Mrs Ogilvie give her the sack. It couldn’t have been anything to do with the bairns; surely Bella would never have neglected them?

  Had she tried to come between Mr and Mrs Ogilvie, like she’d done with so many men and their wives here? She’d not have managed to do it anyway, for the master would never have been unfaithful to the mistress, that was one thing sure. He loved her too much for that.