Brow of the Gallowgate

by Doris Davidson

  ‘I’ve often wondered about the family in the Gallowgate,’ Martin said. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, at last, Mr Ogilvie.’

  Albert smiled. ‘You look too young to be a soldier.’

  ‘I’m eighteen now, but I lied about my age.’ Martin grinned mischievously, but Bathie was dismayed to see that his eyes followed Hetty when she came in with the tea tray.

  Her heart began to flutter again, as another appalling thought struck her. Please God, she prayed silently, don’t let a romance start between my daughter and Bella Wyness’s son. She felt sick when she noticed Hetty taking a long lingering look at the tanned, handsome boy as she went out.

  Oh no! This couldn’t be happening. But it couldn’t come to anything, anyway, because he was only here on an afternoon’s visit, and they’d never meet again. She was being stupid, worrying about things that could never materialize.

  Her blood ran cold the next minute, when she heard Albert playing the genial host. ‘If you haven’t got anything planned, lad, you’re welcome to spend your leave here.’

  Martin’s face lit up with joy. ‘That’s great! I was going to ask if you could tell me where I’d get a bed for a few . . .’

  ‘We’ve plenty of room here, haven’t we, Bathie?’

  His wife’s pinched, haunted face made Albert regret his unthinking hospitality. The young soldier had made such a good impression on him that he’d forgotten, for the minute, who the boy’s mother was, and he couldn’t retract the invitation now. Looking at Bathie, he waited for her to say something.

  ‘We’ve plenty of room,’ she agreed quietly. What was the good of trying to fight this? If it was ordained that Martin and Hetty would fall in love, there was nothing she could do to prevent it, however much she hated the idea.

  ‘You’re welcome to stay,’ she added.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Ogilvie,’ Martin beamed. ‘You know, my mother always said you’d a heart of gold. She thinks highly of you, and so do my Aunt Mary and my Aunt Jeannie.’

  This last was a topic Bathie felt she could safely follow, so she said, ‘How are your aunts?’

  ‘They were both very well, the last time I saw them. I visited them just before I left Wanganui, and Will was looking much better than he did when he went home first.’

  ‘Yes, he seems cheerful enough when he writes to Flo.’

  Albert asked about Martin’s training, so Bathie sat back and let her mind return to Bella, the rotten apple in the Wyness barrel. She’d only been sixteen when she did that vile thing to Charlie, and Mary had said in her letters that Bella had carried on with a lot of men before she was married – like Vena had done before she married Charlie.

  But Vena had changed completely and had been a good wife. Was it possible that Bella might have changed, too? Could a decent man have succeeded in reforming her?

  Looking across at Martin’s animated face as he described his army life to Albert, it occurred to her that his mother must have changed, since she’d produced such a fine boy, for he was a fine boy, there was no getting away from that.

  Hetty, who had seated herself on the couch next to him when she brought in the teapot, evidently thought so, too. Her face was bright and her eyes never left him. She was eighteen, like he was, but still a child. No, Bathie corrected herself. Hetty was two years older than she herself had been, when she fell in love with Albert.

  Waiting until the boy came to a halt, she said, ‘You’d better go upstairs and air Donnie’s bed for Martin, Hetty.’

  ‘Yes, Mother.’ Hetty rose rather reluctantly, but Martin jumped to his feet.

  ‘I’ll help you.’

  A becoming blush stole over Hetty’s cheeks as they went out, and Bathie’s sigh was long and shuddering. ‘Do you see what’s happening, Albert?’

  ‘What’s happening?’ It was a moment before he realized what his wife meant, then he smiled reassuringly. ‘Hetty never keeps a lad for very long, it’ll blow past. Anyway, it’ll be easy enough to put a stop to it if we have to.’

  ‘You can’t stop them falling in love,’ she said sadly. ‘And it’s too late to do anything about it, for I think they’re in love already.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Bathie. I should never have asked him to stay. It was out before I thought, and I couldn’t back down.’ He frowned a little. ‘You don’t honestly think they’re in love already, do you? They’ve just met.’

  How little her husband knew about the human heart, she reflected, or how much he’d forgotten. ‘They maybe don’t know it themselves, yet,’ she said, ‘but I’m quite sure they are.’

  When Hetty and Martin returned to the house after their third evening out, Bathie could tell that they’d kissed for the first time. There was just that much more awareness between them, holding each other’s eyes, a tendency to make contact.

  ‘They know themselves now,’ she told her husband, later.

  ‘I could see that for myself,’ he retorted.

  ‘I told you it was too late to do anything about it,’ she said sadly. ‘We’ll have to accept it.’

  Pushing his lower lip out as he thought the matter over, he said, I can accept it, Bathie, but can you? Can you ever forget what Bella Wyness did to Charlie?’

  No, she thought. She would never be able to forget that, nor could she forget how Albert had been tempted by the girl, as Bella had been then. But that was all in the past. Could she forgive after all this time, and welcome Bella’s boy as a son-in-law if it ever came to that?

  Ellie brought little Kathleen to visit the following afternoon. ‘Hetty took Martin to see me last night,’ she told her mother. ‘I couldn’t believe he was Bella Wyness’s son. Not that I remember much about her, but I know there was something queer about the way she left. Why did you give her the sack?’

  Bathie rubbed the tip of her nose with her forefinger then said, somewhat coldly, ‘She wasn’t suitable as a nursemaid, Ellie. Just leave it at that.’

  ‘But . . .’ Ellie stopped suddenly. The expression on her mother’s face told her that it was no use asking.

  ‘How’s my little Kathie today?’ Bathie turned to her granddaughter, steering the talk away from the distasteful subject of Bella Wyness.

  ‘Her name’s Kathleen,’ Ellie snapped, still smarting from her mother’s rebuke. ‘It’s a lovely name, that’s why Jack and I chose it, and I don’t want anybody calling her Kathie.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit I have, making up pet names, and I did it with all of you, except Ishbel, and there’s not a pet name for that. But Kathleen is a lovely name.’ The toddler was moving around, occasionally putting out a hand to touch something and, as Bathie watched, a lump came into her throat because Kathleen was so like Ellie. The curly red head, the deep blue eyes, the sturdy little body, were exactly as Ellie’s had been. Even the mischievous grin when the child asked the same awkward questions.

  ‘Mother, there’s something else you should know.’ Ellie broke into Bathie’s thoughts.

  She transferred her gaze to her daughter, now fiddling nervously with her handbag. Ellie’s words had sounded rather ominous, as if she knew that what she was about to say would distress her mother.

  ‘I thought it would be best to warn you,’ Ellie continued, ‘so you won’t get a shock when they tell you, but I think Hetty and Martin are falling in love.’

  Bathie’s relief came out as a giggle. ‘I don’t think they are. I know they are.’

  ‘Don’t you mind? I thought you’d be upset about it.’

  ‘I was, at first, but what could I do?’

  ‘Nothing, I suppose, and there’s a bright side to it, you know. If Hetty wants to marry Martin, she’ll be going to New Zealand after the war, too, so you won’t have to worry about Flo. They’ll be company for each other on the journey, and Mary and Jeannie’ll keep an eye on them once they arrive.’

  That was true enough, Bathie told herself, but what about Bella? Would Bella Wyness keep an eye on Hetty, or would she make the girl’s life a misery out of
spite?

  Had she planned this, so she’d have a chance for revenge?

  ‘Mother, is anything wrong?’

  With a start, Bathie focused her eyes on her daughter. ‘I was just thinking. It’s going to be hard if they both want to go, but, as you say, they’ll be together, so that’ll be a comfort. Anyway, I’ll still have you, and Gracie, and Ishbel.’

  Her rather serious expression changed suddenly. ‘Unless another New Zealander turns up and takes Gracie away, too.’

  Ellie giggled. ‘I shouldn’t think there’s much chance of that. She’d run a mile if a boy ever spoke to her.’

  Bathie noticed that Kathleen was struggling to fasten a shoelace that had come undone. ‘Let Ga-Ga do it, my pet.’

  ‘Oh, you’re as bad as Jack’s mother.’ Ellie sounded exasperated. ‘She’ll never learn to speak properly if you both use baby words to her.’

  Stifling a pang of jealousy at the other grandmother, Bathie defended herself. ‘It’s what Kathleen calls me.’

  ‘That’s only because she couldn’t say Grandma.’ Ellie turned to the toddler. ‘Kathleen, it’s Grandma. Let me hear you saying it. Grandma.’

  The little girl smiled impishly. ‘Granny,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Bathie beamed with delight. ‘Let her call me Granny, Ellie. I’d really like that.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s not so bad as Ga-Ga, and she could call Jack’s mother Grandma, instead of Grandmother.’ Ellie smiled. ‘Granny It’s quite sweet, really.’

  ‘Come to Granny, Kathleen.’ Bathie held out her hand, and was delighted when the child repeated, ‘Granny’ as she obeyed.

  ‘You’ll spoil her.’ But Ellie’s smile was fond as she looked at her mother.

  After her visitors left, Bathie sat thinking. Poor Ellie, losing Jack Lornie like that. What a pity she couldn’t find another man, but she’d no chance to meet anybody, though maybe she’d take a job once Kathleen started school.

  When Hetty and Martin returned from their stroll, shortly afterwards, Martin kept Bathie company while Hetty disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the tea. ‘Did you have a nice walk?’ Bathie asked. ‘Yes, we went to the Bridge of Don, then came back along the beach, and sat for a while watching the boats . . . Er, Mrs Ogilvie, I wanted to talk to you alone.’ Martin’s hand fidgeted in the same way as Ellie’s had done.

  ‘Yes?’ Bathie had a good idea of what he was plucking up courage to say, and she was glad she was prepared for it.

  ‘I suppose you’ve realized by now how I feel about Hetty,’ he began, tentatively.

  Bathie smiled and nodded encouragingly.

  ‘She’s the only girl I’ll ever love,’ he carried on, ‘and I think she feels the same about me.’

  ‘I know she does.’

  ‘I can’t ask her to be serious while the war’s still on.’

  ‘You haven’t asked her yet, then?’

  ‘No, and I think Hetty’s hurt that I haven’t, but . . . Oh, it’s not just the war. We’re a bit too young for marriage.’

  ‘I was only sixteen when I married her father,’ Bathie murmured. ‘Albert was twenty-four, of course.’

  ‘A man should be older than eighteen before he commits himself. And I might not survive the war – that was another reason I’ve held back.’

  Bathie’s heart turned over. He had too old a head on his broad young shoulders. ‘Martin, I can’t guarantee your safety,’ she said, sadly, ‘but I think you should tell her how you feel. When the war’s over, if you still love each other, you can be married then. If you’ve changed your minds . . .’ She shrugged expressively. ‘That’ll be that, and no harm done.’

  ‘I’ll never change my mind about Hetty, but do you think your husband will be agreeable to what you’ve suggested?’

  His earnest young eyes were so blue, so darkly fringed, that Bathie could see why her daughter loved him.

  ‘Albert’ll want what’s best for Hetty. Now, go through and tell her everything you’ve said to me.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Ogilvie. Mother was right. You always know what to do for the best.’ Martin rose to his feet, hesitated briefly, then said, in a low voice, ‘I may as well tell you this, too. I know what my mother did to your oldest son when he was a small boy, and I know she tried to tempt Mr Ogilvie to be unfaithful to you, and that she didn’t succeed.’

  Bathie was speechless for a moment. ‘Who told you that?’ she whispered at last.

  ‘She told me herself, just after Father died.’

  ‘I can’t get over her telling you.’ Bathie licked her dry lips. ‘You know, when I first saw that you were attracted to Hetty, I wondered if your mother had planned it for revenge on me for dismissing her.’

  ‘She holds no grudge against you for that,’ Martin assured her. ‘She regretted what she did and always spoke very highly of you. She says herself that she was almost past redemption when Father took her in hand and tried to lick her into shape, although I often had the feeling that he seemed disappointed in her, but she’s always been a genuine, caring mother to me.’

  He gave a boyish grin. ‘If things work out for me, I’ll also have a genuine, caring, mother-in-law.’

  Bathie laughed in spite of herself. ‘Get on with you and your New Zealand flattery. Go and try it on Hetty, she’ll be a lot more receptive to it than me.’

  He winked and hurried out, leaving Bathie to lean back in her chair, quite weak after what he’d just told her. And fancy Bella Wyness being described as a genuine and caring mother. It was unbelievable, after what she’d been before. But it wasn’t impossible – just look at the change in Vena.

  Martin Potter’s father must have been an exceptionally good man, and Martin himself was thoughtful and honest. Hetty would be a lucky girl if she did eventually marry him, and Flo, too, when she married Will Dunbar.

  A tear trickled out of the corner of Bathie’s eye, and she wiped it away with her finger. Jack Lornie had also been a fine boy. Please God, look after the rest of my boys.

  Her troubled mind rambled on. Would Donnie and his wife settle down after the war and raise a family? Gracie seemed scared of men, so it was unlikely that she’d ever fall in love, but what a lot she’d miss. Love could cause doubts, jealousies and heartaches, but as the old saying went, ‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.’

  What would her own life have been like without Albert and her children? The worries and sleepless nights they’d caused her had been more than compensated for by the love and pleasure they’d given her over the years.

  When Albert came in, he was surprised by the warmth of her greeting, and touched by the kiss she rose to plant on his cheek – so touched that he put his arm round her waist and hugged her tightly. ‘Bathie, my love,’ he said, softly.

  It had been so long since he’d embraced her, or spoken to her so tenderly, that her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Is anything wrong?’ he asked anxiously.

  Stretching her hands up, she pulled his head down and kissed him. ‘That’s what’s wrong,’ she whispered. ‘Why don’t you ever tell me . . . ?’ She couldn’t finish, because his lips came down hard on hers and her heartbeats quickened as though she were a young girl again.

  Drawing away, he stroked her cheek with his finger. ‘You know how much I love you, Bathie.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me sometimes, then? You never say it, Albert. You haven’t said it for a long time.’

  ‘I didn’t think I needed to, but I love you more than my own life.’ He stepped back and looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘What brought this on?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when we go to bed. The girls’ll be up in a minute, and Martin and Hetty are in the kitchen, so there’s no time now. It was just something that made me want to be sure you still loved me, nothing bad.’

  They moved further apart when Flo and Gracie came in.

  ‘Did Hetty come back in time?’ Gracie demanded.

  ‘Yes, she’s in t
he kitchen with Martin, so you’d better knock before you go through.’ Bathie gave a small chuckle.

  ‘Why should I? They shouldn’t be doing anything, anyway, except making the supper.’ Gracie disappeared and they heard her barging straight into the other room.

  ‘She’s jealous,’ remarked Flo. ‘She’s the only one of us who hasn’t got a lad, except Ishbel, and she doesn’t count.’

  ‘Poor Gracie.’ Bathie could understand what the girl was feeling. It hadn’t been so bad when Flo was engaged, because she was one year older than Gracie, but Hetty was three years younger, so she must feel it more.

  And both Flo and Hetty would be impatiently waiting for the war to come to an end so that they could go to Wanganui to marry their sweethearts. When that time came, she would have to make Gracie understand how grateful she was that one of her grown-up daughters would be remaining at home.

  When Martin Potter was leaving, he shook hands with all the girls except Hetty – who was going to the railway station with him – then turned shyly to Bathie and Albert.

  ‘Thank you both for your hospitality, and, Mrs Ogilvie, thank you for your advice. I’ll be writing to Hetty, once I’m sent to wherever it is.’

  ‘Take care of yourself, lad.’ Albert’s voice was gruff.

  Bathie kissed the boy’s cheek. ‘You’ll be in my prayers.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Martin’s voice broke, and he turned away rather abruptly, Hetty following him as he went out.

  ‘It’s a crying shame that lads of his age have to leave their homes and go and fight,’ Albert said vehemently. ‘Though, if it hadn’t been for the war, Hetty would never have met him, so even that cloud had a silver lining.’

  Bathie’s heart was too full to allow her to answer. If it hadn’t been for the war, all her children would still be here with her. Donnie and Helene would never have met, either, of course, nor Flo and Will, and she felt so confused about that, she gave up trying to think about it.

  Charlie and Donnie would be home when the fighting was over, and she’d have to look on Vena and Helene as replacements for the two daughters she would lose. Heaving a sigh, Bathie went into the kitchen to fortify herself with a cup of tea.