Pearl Fishers

by Robin Jenkins

  The midges had been massing for an attack. Now they launched it, in their thousands.

  The effect of the citronella had worn off. He pulled up two fronds of bracken, one for her and one for him. They waved these frantically in front of their faces.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ he said.

  Home was a word she did not often use.

  Twenty-five

  HER MOTHER was feeling depressed and embittered. Either Daniel had been in an accident or, at his wife’s funeral, he had met another woman, one with money.

  She was in no mood to congratulate Effie.

  ‘It’s just a trick to get you into his bed. That’s been his plan from the beginning. Do you think if you’d been flat-chested and squint-eyed he’d have invited you into his house? Once he’s had you a few times and maybe got you bairned he’ll throw you aside like used toilet paper. Remember Annie Gibson.’

  Annie Gibson’s story was still told on campsites, though it had happened more than fifty years ago. A well-to-do gentleman, and his lady wife, had come looking for a nice young girl, to look after their children. She had soon found she had other duties. She had to sleep with the master and any of his friends he wished to oblige. His wife didn’t mind. That was what traveller girls were for. Annie became pregnant. She was at once got rid of. Her family refused to take her back. It was thought that she’d been given some money and packed off to Glasgow, where she became a prostitute.

  Her story had been told as a warning to the discontented traveller girls.

  ‘Gavin’s not like that,’ said Effie, ‘and I’m not like Annie. He loves me. He’s talked about marrying me.’

  ‘God help you, girl, did you believe him?’

  ‘Yes, I believe him.’

  ‘Don’t think that because he’s going to be a preacher he’s different. Look at the size of this house. It had to be big because the ministers that lived in it had such large families. They didn’t get them by praying.’

  ‘I know I could make him a good wife.’

  ‘You could make any man a good wife, if you were left in peace to do it. But the world’s full of bad-minded jealous bastards who would make it impossible.’

  ‘He would help me.’

  ‘My God, Effie, I believe you mean it.’

  ‘Yes, I do mean it.’

  ‘But does he?’

  Effie laughed. ‘I’ll ask him.’

  Before going to bed Effie, accompanied by Gavin, went out to make sure that the two old horses were comfortable. Maggie’s leg was better; she no longer limped. Jess was thoroughly enjoying her long rest.

  They showed their thanks by making a fuss of Effie.

  She felt carefree and happy.

  It was a beautiful night. The air was scented with roses.

  She put her arm through his and took him on a stroll about the moonlit field.

  ‘Do you know what my mother said about us? She said you just wanted to sleep with me.’

  She found herself hoping that he would laugh and say, ‘Well, why not?’

  Instead, he said, rather peevishly, ‘I hope you told her she was wrong.’

  ‘She said that if I had been flat-chested and squint-eyed you wouldn’t have given me a second look.’

  He was somewhat crestfallen then, for of course there was a grain of truth in the accusation.

  He was as easy to tease as Eddie. She felt protective. She would tease him but she wouldn’t let anyone else do it.

  ‘Am I to have a ring, to show that I’m engaged?’

  ‘Yes, of course. We’ll get one on Saturday.’

  ‘But I need it tomorrow.’

  He laughed. ‘Why, what’s happening tomorrow?’

  ‘I want to go into town, by myself and walk among the people, your people, Gavin, as if I was one of them, because I will be one of them, won’t I?’

  He was amused but puzzled. There were times when she was too deep for him.

  ‘I want to go into a hairdresser’s and get my hair cut; it would be the first time in my life. I want to go into the hotel and order coffee. I want to go in and out of shops without being afraid of being suspected of shop-lifting. I want to stand among people on the pier, watching the steamer come in.’

  Those things, which other women did every day, would be for her, new, terrifying experiences.

  If her confidence faltered, as it was bound to do, and she could not bear to look or to be looked at, and she felt closer to the swans in the harbour than the people around her, she would look at the ring on her finger, and her confidence would be restored.

  He thought, fondly, that she just wanted to show off her ring, as women did.

  ‘I’d like to be there to see you marching into the Royal.’

  ‘Oh, I won’t march. I’ll walk in elegantly.’ And she would be trying not to look afraid.

  Twenty-six

  THE FIRST test would be the journey into town on Willie’s bus. It came from further up the loch and probably would have passengers who had heard that Gavin Hamilton had allowed tinkers to camp in his field. They might not know yet that he had invited them into his house.

  She had taken great care with her appearance. Morag had helped. It was Morag who arranged the white ribbon in her hair.

  ‘Doesn’t it make me look too young?’ she had asked.

  ‘But you are young, Effie. You’re only twenty on Saturday. You’re younger than Gavin.’

  ‘Yes, I’m younger than him.’

  ‘But he’s not old.’

  ‘No, he’s not old.’

  ‘He’s not nearly as old as Daniel.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is Daniel coming here?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Why is he coming?’

  ‘To attend Grandfather’s funeral.’

  ‘Doesn’t he want to marry you, Effie?’

  That really was his purpose.

  Effie could not help shuddering

  ‘He’s too old, Effie. Marry Gavin.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  They decided she should wear the red dress. It had been bought in a charity shop in Inverness, handed in by a titled lady. When new, it must have cost a great deal.

  Effie usually did not wear a bra. She did not need one; her breasts were firm and strong. Today she put one on, making sure it did not emphasise her bosom too much or flatten it either.

  ‘Will I do?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Effie.’

  ‘Not so beautiful as you will be some day.’

  They hugged each other then.

  She was waiting at the Old Manse gate when the bus appeared.

  As she got on board she saw that there were other passengers, all women, all elderly, the kind who would be least tolerant and sympathetic.

  ‘How are you today, Miss Williamson?’ asked Willie, as she paid her fare.

  ‘Fine, thank you.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve told them you’re a visitor from Inverness.’

  Effie smiled at the other passengers as she took her seat.

  ‘Good morning, ladies,’ she said.

  They were delighted with her. It never entered their heads that she might be a tinker.

  ‘Has Gavin got rid of those tinker pests yet?’ asked one.

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘He should get the police to them.’

  While Effie, feeling guilty, was considering whether or not to be honest and tell them who she was another passenger whom she hadn’t noticed spoke up, loudly complaining. This was a sheep tethered at the back. It kept it up all the way.

  Willie always helped ladies off his bus.

  ‘No need to look so worried, Miss Williamson,’ he whispered. ‘It’s none of their business or anybody’s but your own. May I say no handsomer young woman will be seen in Towellan today?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Will you be going back with me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Outside the Royal at four o’clock then. Good l
uck.’

  He had guessed, quicker than Gavin, what her purpose was.

  One Willie the Bus, she thought would make up for a hundred ‘bad-minded jealous bastards’.

  Twenty-seven

  AS SHE made her way to the jeweller’s she wished, ruefully, that Gavin had not teased her about her being elegant. She felt self-conscious and a little silly. Then she caught sight of two swans in the harbour. She stopped to look at them and be comforted. How elegant in water their natural element, how clumsy on land. When she gave up the primitive travelling life it would not be all gain. She would lose this feeling of kinship with wild creatures.

  Swans were faithful to each other all their lives. She hoped she and Gavin would be like that.

  Some children were throwing pieces of bread into the air for gulls to catch in their beaks. The birds seemed to be enjoying the game as much as the children.

  It was the kind of scene she had often watched, from a distance, not able to take part in it. Now she could, or rather when she had Gavin’s ring on her finger, she could. It would represent her becoming one of his people.

  Coming towards her was a young woman pushing a pram. The baby threw out a teddy bear. It too was playing a game.

  Effie picked up the toy and returned it to the baby.

  Into her mind came an incident that had happened a few years ago in a northern town. A little girl had taken Morag’s hand. Immediately her mother, screaming, had rushed forward and dragged her away, as if Morag had been covered in scabs. Morag had never spoken about it but Effie was sure she remembered it often.

  So would this young mother, protective of her child, repulse Effie in the same way? On the contrary, she was flattered and delighted that this mannerly, well-dressed young lady, no doubt a holidaymaker and probably staying at the hotel, was being gracious and helpful.

  ‘A little girl?’ asked Effie.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Donaldina.’

  ‘After her father?’

  ‘And her grandfather.’

  Effie held the baby’s tiny hand.

  There was no horrified scream, no revulsion, the baby laughed happily. She had blue eyes.

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ said Effie.

  ‘We all think so.’

  Effie was relieved to find Mr Lojko’s shop empty.

  He remembered her and greeted her warmly.

  ‘The pearls have been much admired,’ he said. ‘Look.’

  He pulled out a tray with half a dozen gold rings on it; each one had a pearl.

  ‘Would they do for engagement rings?’ asked Effie, shyly.

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘I would like to buy one.’

  ‘Take your pick. For you, young lady, a special price.’

  ‘I haven’t got money with me. Will it be all right if Gavin pays for it on Saturday? Gavin Hamilton, I mean.’

  ‘Of course. I don’t wish to be inquisitive, Miss Williamson, but am I to understand that you and Mr Hamilton have decided to become engaged?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Congratulations. What a very nice thing to happen. I’m so pleased. You will be staying at Kilcalmonell then?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘He’s a very lucky young man. I shall tell him so on Saturday.’

  As she left the shop, with the ring on her finger, she felt that everything she saw was new, had just happened. It was as if everybody and everything had been given a fresh start.

  She felt so confident that she decided to make the hairdresser’s her next call.

  She went into the shop with her head held high, but her heart was sinking ever so little. It was not likely that the young women who worked in this place had heard about the tinkers who had come to Kilcalmonell. It wasn’t the kind of thing they would be interested in. But what if they were suspicious and asked questions? What answers would she give?

  On one score she did not have to feel embarrassed. Her head was clean. She had once been commended by a nurse who inspected campsites.

  The three attendants, two of them as young as Effie herself, had elaborate coiffures that made her white ribbon look childish.

  They stared at her with interest. She was a stranger.

  ‘Could I make an appointment to have my hair cut?’ she asked.

  ‘You could have it done now if you like. We’re not busy.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  The girl who was to attend to her was talkative.

  ‘My name’s Catriona.’

  ‘Mine’s Effie.’

  ‘Short for Euphemia?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Here on holiday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Staying at the hotel?’

  ‘No.’

  Effie could not resist boasting a little. She had had so few triumphs in her life that she could not forgo this, by far the sweetest.

  ‘I’m staying at Kilcalmonell.’

  ‘I didn’t know there was a hotel there. Are you in a B&B?’

  Effie did not know what a B&B was.

  ‘I’m staying at the Old Manse.’

  The scissors stopped clipping.

  ‘But that’s Gavin Hamilton’s house.’

  ‘Yes, I’m staying with Gavin.’

  ‘You must know him well.’

  ‘I’m engaged to him.’

  She did not flaunt the ring but it was noticed.

  ‘Did you hear that, girls? She’s engaged to Gavin Hamilton. The sly monkey, he’s never let on. Where are you from?’

  ‘Inverness.’

  ‘You’re not local then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘We’ve all got a crush on Gavin.’

  ‘That cute beard!’

  ‘Those blue eyes.’

  ‘Those magnificent legs. You’ll know he’s a great football player?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Eddie was much impressed by Gavin’s skill with a football.

  Effie was not feeling as confident as she sounded.

  She had not lied. She was engaged to Gavin. She was staying at his house. She did come from Inverness or near enough. Surely she was not obliged to tell them more than that?

  Suppose she did tell them what would they do and say? Order her out of the shop? Immediately disinfect the comb and scissors?

  But it was not a traveller or tinker who had come into their shop. That Effie Williamson was gone for good.

  Perhaps she was being unfair to them. Perhaps, like Willie the Bus and Mr Lojko the jeweller, they would wish her well.

  She gave a generous tip.

  ‘Be sure to tell Gavin we were asking for him,’ said Catriona.

  It was now time for morning coffee. She had to screw up her courage again. At the hotel entrance she almost hurried past. She was afraid it was going to be too much for her.

  She looked at the ring.

  Resolutely and elegantly she walked in.

  No one in the coffee room looked surprised to see her. One man gave her an admiring glance.

  The waitress smiled. ‘Black or white?’ she asked.

  Effie’s usual drink was tea in a smoky billy-can.

  ‘White, please.’

  ‘Would you like anything to eat? Biscuits?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  When the waitress went to the kitchen with the order she remarked it was for a very nice young lady. ‘A real beauty. Wearing a dress that must have cost a small fortune.’

  When she came back with the coffee and biscuits she couldn’t resist chatting. She liked the way the young lady spoke.

  ‘Are you here on holiday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re lucky with the weather.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘There’s not a nicer place than Towellan when the sun shines.’

  ‘It’s a beautiful little town. The people are very friendly.’

  ‘Have you visited the old castle? Robert the Bruce stayed there, or so they say.’

 
Effie had never heard of Robert the Bruce.

  ‘Him who beat the English at Bannockburn. When was that again? 1314. That’s a date every Scots schoolchild knows. You’ll find a brochure on the table in the foyer that tells you all about it. There’s a fine view of the town from the castle.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Again Effie left a generous tip. She had begun to feel very nervous.

  Though she had done well and no one could have suspected that she was playing a part she was assailed by cold black doubts as she stepped into the bright warm street.

  She was finding it easy to deceive people. Gavin had been the easiest. But she could not deceive herself. Her high opinion of herself was not justified. She was ignorant. She did not know things that schoolchildren and middle-aged waitresses did. She could read but only if the words were simple and even then very slowly. She could hardly claim to be able to write. Gavin had made no attempt to find out how poorly educated she was, and she had made the feeblest attempt to tell him.

  She tried to convince herself that if she worked hard and was given help she could remedy those shortcomings, and so she could, but it would take a long time, years perhaps.

  Really it was ridiculous for her to think that she could ever marry a man like Gavin Hamilton.

  You’ve got yourself into an awful mess this time, Effie, she told herself. You’ve turned your back on travelling and pearl-fishing, and you’ve just discovered that to be accepted as one of Gavin’s people you’d have to keep on pretending, and you couldn’t possibly keep it up, you’d give yourself away sooner or later.

  She had left herself and the children with nowhere to go.

  She had tried very hard to keep Morag and Eddie with her, but it looked now as if she had failed. They would have to be put in a home, where it wouldn’t matter whether they were wanted or not, whether they were loved or not. No one wanted them. Their mother didn’t; she saw them as evidence of her own failure and disappointment. Daniel Stewart didn’t, though it was possible he was Morag’s father. If he had shown genuine affection for them and had been willing to take them to live with him, he could have had Effie as a reward.