Pearl Fishers

by Robin Jenkins

  ‘At Dalnessie, in Sutherland. It’s a favourite campsite for travellers. Hundreds will come. Daniel’s well-known and Grandfather’s a patriarch.’

  ‘It would be an opportunity for me to meet some of Effie’s old friends.’

  ‘It would and they’d make you very welcome.’

  Effie was not looking quite so aghast.

  She was realising that he could have chosen no more convincing way of showing that his interest in her, and that his affection for her and her family was sincere.

  Daniel had fallen asleep on his feet.

  ‘Would you be so kind, Mr Hamilton, as to help me get him back to bed?’

  Hamilton picked him up and carried him in.

  The pillows had red hearts on them.

  When he came out Mrs Williamson had a surprise for him. She gave him a hug. ‘You’re a good man, Gavin Hamilton. I hope Effie knows how lucky she is.’

  So lucky indeed that she couldn’t yet believe it.

  ‘We’d better go and see what the children are up to. We’ll see you later, mother.’

  On their way back to the house Hamilton put his arm round her. ‘I’m sorry, Effie. I should have consulted you first.’

  ‘Yes.’ But she was glad he hadn’t. She wouldn’t have known what to say.

  ‘A mother should be present at her daughter’s wedding, and a daughter should be present at her mother’s. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘Were you serious about meeting some of my old friends?’

  ‘Very serious. Everyone who was kind to you, Effie, I want to meet and thank them.’

  ‘Even those in Miss McDonald’s pictures?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why not! You’re like a child at times, Gavin.’

  It was meant as praise, though spoken with a little exasperation.

  ‘I take that as a compliment. Children are much nicer than adults.’

  She would have to admit that.

  ‘Sometimes, Effie, one has to make a fool of oneself.’

  She did not quite understand. ‘You didn’t make a fool of yourself. My mother doesn’t think so anyway. You’ve made her very happy.’

  If she was ever to introduce him to her friends among the travellers, especially girls her own age, she would probably feel a little embarrassed but she would also feel very proud. He would be as gentlemanly towards them as if they were titled ladies. He would have no condescension. They would be charmed. They would envy her.

  Thirty

  THAT NIGHT, after the children were asleep Effie and Gavin sat side by side on the sofa in the big room, discussing their immediate future.

  Effie did most of the talking.

  ‘I want you to help me improve my reading and writing. I’d like to learn to drive the car. We’ll have to enrol Morag and Eddie in the local school. We’ll keep old Maggie for Morag and Eddie. We could offer the horse to the McTeagues. Deirdre would like that. We’ll burn the tents and get rid of the carts.’

  She looked up and caught him gazing at her with fond amusement.

  ‘If I’m talking too much just tell me to shut up. I’m a blether when I get started.’

  This was a girl whose long silences had worried him.

  He felt a great desire to protect her. She was so eager, so naive, so hopeful, so brave, so young, so vulnerable. Cruel forces had been stalking her all her life. Now that she was almost out of their reach they would be most determined.

  ‘Tell me, Gavin, what are the duties of a minister’s wife?’

  He had yet to learn that in her own way she was as ambitious as himself. For years she had had to endure humiliations that had threatened to stifle her spirit, and she had often dreamed of reaching a position where one day she would be free of them.

  Now, through Gavin Hamilton, had her chance come? By helping him to achieve his ambition she could achieve her own. If he became a minister, respected by everyone, as his wife she would be respected too.

  He had come to appreciate her irony and counter it with his own.

  ‘Well, if she’s amenable she helps him in his church business.’

  ‘What’s amenable?’

  ‘Willing to do what she’s asked to do without grumbling.’

  ‘Aren’t all ministers’ wives amenable?’

  ‘I’m afraid not all.’

  ‘Why do they marry ministers then?’

  ‘Because they love them, I suppose. You see, some of them have careers of their own.’

  ‘What kind of careers?’

  ‘Schoolteachers. Civil servants. Lawyers even.’

  ‘But not pearl-fishers?’

  ‘You’d be the first, Effie.’

  ‘The amenable ones, what do they have to do?’

  ‘They don’t have to do anything. If they want to help that’s up to them. If they don’t that’s up to them too.’

  ‘Those that want to help, what do they do?’

  ‘Well, they go to church on Sunday mornings.’

  ‘What if they have small children to look after?’

  ‘I expect they’ll employ a babysitter.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘They join in the hymn-singing.’

  ‘I could do that. I’m quite a good singer. I might not understand the words but I’m sure I would like the tunes.’

  ‘They help to decorate the church with flowers.’

  ‘I’d like doing that.’

  ‘They visit the sick and elderly.’

  ‘I could do that.’

  ‘If there’s a Bible class they might be expected to take part.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that. I don’t know the Bible very well. But I could learn.’

  ‘I’m sure you could.’

  ‘Do you think I’d make a good minister’s wife?’

  ‘People would flock to my church just to see my beautiful wife.’

  ‘What if the minister’s wife has a different religion to him?’

  ‘Are you hinting that you’re a Buddhist?’

  ‘Gavin, a university professor said that travellers were pagans. What’s a pagan?’

  ‘I believe it’s someone with no religion.’

  ‘Then I’m not a pagan. I have a religion. I’ll tell you about it when I know you better.’

  She stood up. ‘Would you like a cup of tea before going to bed?’

  ‘That would be very nice.’

  ‘Shall I bring it in here or shall we go to the kitchen?’

  ‘Let’s go to the kitchen.’

  So, minutes later, they were in the kitchen drinking tea and nibbling biscuits.

  ‘If anything happened to me,’ she said, ‘would you take care of the children?’

  He caught a glimpse of those cruel forces.

  ‘Nothing’s going to happen to you.’

  ‘No, but if something did?’

  ‘You know I would, Effie.’

  They went up the stairs together.

  ‘I’ll sit with your grandfather for a little while.’

  ‘He won’t know you’re there.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. Anyway, you go to bed. You’ve had a tiring day. Good night.’

  She made to go into her room, very quietly, so as not to disturb Morag, but turned. She was going to say something but didn’t. ‘Good night, Gavin.’

  She would find it easy to get to sleep. There had been nights, many of them, when she had lain awake for hours, tormented by fears and worries. It was wonderful to feel relaxed and safe like this.

  Morag murmured in her sleep. It was a contented sigh. Previously it would have been a moan or even the terrified cry of a nightmare.

  Thirty-one

  EFFIE AND Morag sat in the back, Eddie in front with Hamilton.

  ‘We’re just like a family,’ whispered Morag.

  ‘We are a family.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes, pet, I know.’

  Effie was afraid that they might meet some of Gavin’s workmates or friends, especially the b
ig man who had called her trash. He could hardly do so this afternoon for, with Morag’s help, she had made the best of her appearance. Even Eddie complimented her. ‘You look great, Effie.’ No one would recognise her as the ragamuffin who had arrived last Saturday on a cart, dirty and smelly. In the red dress and yellow cardigan, with the necklace of blue stones, she was a different person altogether. Where, though, had that dirty smelly creature gone?

  As they stood at the seafront, waiting for the McTeagues, they were given friendly greetings, or at least Hamilton was. He was well-known and well-liked. Effie herself got curious looks.

  He came and stood beside her, close enough to touch. He made no attempt to hide his feelings for her. He kept smiling at her, fondly and proudly.

  She, though, could not get it out of her head that she was an impostor. This handsome girl in the red dress didn’t exist. The real Effie Williamson was skulking in a tent somewhere, alone and miserable, with nothing to look forward to.

  Thirty-two

  IN THE car on the way to Towellan the McTeagues discussed her. Mrs McTeague wasn’t sure that they were doing the right thing by encouraging the engagement. It was too soon. It could result in disaster for them both, especially for poor Effie. To be ruthlessly frank, what was she, after all, in spite of her pride and beauty? Member of an outcast tribe, with primitive habits and customs. She was keeping up a pretence and was doing it bravely, but she couldn’t hope to keep it up forever.

  ‘You’re wrong, mother,’ said Deirdre. ‘They’ll get married and be very happy.’

  ‘I’m sure we all hope so, dear.’

  ‘Why Gavin is in such a hurry,’ said Mr McTeague, ‘is that he doesn’t want someone like Hamish McKenzie to sneak in and carry her off.’

  Ian had no opinion on the subject. ‘I wonder if Eddie’s seen more otters.’

  When the McTeagues arrived Deirdre was out of the car first. She ran over to Effie and hugged her.

  ‘She really is a splendid girl,’ whispered Mrs McTeague.

  Her husband chuckled. ‘Gavin knows what he’s doing.’

  Eddie wanted to know if it was time to go along to the cinema. If they didn’t hurry there would be no seats left.

  He was almost right. The film was a very popular one, especially with children, so the cinema was packed. They could not get seats together. Eddie insisted on sitting beside Hamilton.

  ‘He may get very excited,’ said Effie. ‘Maybe I should sit beside him.’

  ‘He’s fine with me.’

  In the film there was a sequence in which the two comedians were trying to deliver a big piano up a long flight of steep stairs. With prodigious efforts they would manage to get it almost to the top when it would slide back down, almost crushing them under it. The children were greatly amused but the more sensitive ones were alarmed too. None was more affected than Eddie who went into fits of hysterical laughter mixed with tears. A couple seated near him looked at one another.

  Luckily there was another film about a small boy who had lost his collie. It turned up safely in the end and Eddie was greatly relieved.

  When they came out of the cinema Deirdre took charge.

  The grown-ups were to go for a walk while the children went to the souvenir shop and bought birthday presents for Effie. They all had money.

  It gave Hamilton an opportunity to slip into the jeweller’s.

  Effie had a quiet word with Eddie and Morag. ‘Keep an eye on him in the shop, Morag. Eddie, don’t touch anything you’re not going to buy. No stealing. Mr Hamilton would be very angry.’

  Eddie promised solemnly.

  The four children rushed off to the shop.

  At the hotel they were given a small private room. The waitress who had served Effie coffee and given her a history lesson attended them. She had been told it was a birthday celebration. She did not yet know it was also to celebrate an engagement, and she was far from knowing that the tall black-haired girl in the red dress, and her little brother and sister, had been, as recently as last week, travellers, or tinkers as they were called locally. Indeed, in the kitchen she had surmised that Effie must belong to one of the upper-class well-to-do Argyll families who lived in big houses up lonely glens or beside remote lochs. She had the presence and the dignity of such a girl. What she noticeably lacked was the haughtiness.

  Hamilton was well known in the town. Though he was only a forestry worker it was generally believed that, once he became a minister, he would be a man of importance. The Old Manse with its rose garden was one of the finest houses in the county, situated in one of the most beautiful spots.

  Deirdre was still in charge. Only Eddie dared to question her authority and he was easily won over by her letting him sit where he pleased and giving him first choice of paper hats. He chose a silver crown.

  Hamilton sat next to Effie. This was not as Deirdre had planned it, but he insisted and she had to humour him. After all he would have to be close to Effie if he was to put the ring on her finger.

  When it came to the giving of the presents Eddie clamoured to be first. His offering was a tartan ball-point pen. ‘You said you were going to write letters, Effie.’

  Ian’s present was a china otter. ‘You could put it on your mantelpiece.’

  Morag had chosen a brooch in the shape of a thistle.

  Deirdre’s present was a small china doll with blue eyes, dressed in McTeague tartan. ‘You could give it to your own little girl, Effie, when you have one.’

  Mr and Mrs McTeague gave a box of handkerchiefs. Effie would have been embarrassed if they had bought her something more costly.

  Then it was Hamilton’s turn. They watched him expectantly.

  Effie was on the verge of tears but she still managed to exchange a secret smile with Morag.

  He took out of his pocket a small rectangular box covered with blue velvet. He handed it to Effie. ‘Happy birthday, Effie. Many happy returns.’

  ‘Open it, Effie,’ cried Eddie.

  She opened it. Revealed was a small elegant expensive wristwatch. ‘Thank you, Gavin,’ she whispered.

  ‘Put it on, Effie,’ cried Eddie.

  Effie put it on. They all admired it. Deirdre made sure it was set at the right time.

  Now came the most important part.

  Nobody was going to make a speech.

  ‘Have you got the ring, Gavin?’ asked Deirdre.

  He produced it out of another little box.

  It was golden, with a Scottish pearl mounted on it.

  Without waiting for Deirdre’s cue he took hold of Effie’s left hand and slipped it on the requisite finger.

  ‘This is for always, Effie.’

  ‘For always, Gavin.’

  He kissed her.

  Mr and Mrs McTeague offered their congratulations. Mrs McTeague was in tears. ‘I hope it’s a success.’

  ‘What’s to stop it?’

  But Hugh was always optimistic. He would order trees to be planted in places where others were sure they wouldn’t grow. He was usually right too.

  Thirty-three

  AS SOON as she got home Effie went to the caravan to show her ring and watch to her mother.

  Her mother wasn’t drunk but she wasn’t cheerful either. She and Daniel had had another of their disagreements.

  ‘It’s not the ring that matters, Effie. It’s the promise it stands for.’

  ‘I know that, mother.’

  ‘Rings aren’t easily broken. Promises are.’

  ‘Not Gavin’s.’

  ‘No man’s to be trusted, Effie.’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘I hope so. I’ve got a present for you too, Effie. Well, Daniel and I have. Just a minute.’

  She came out with a flat white box. It contained, wrapped in pink tissue paper, two silk scarves.

  ‘He brought two, one for you and one for me. He said he remembered how you liked the feel of silk against your skin.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He says it’s his stomach but he�
��s really sick with disappointment and jealousy.’

  It wasn’t in Effie’s nature to be ungracious and revengeful. She would never wear the scarf, it would be too intimate a reminder of a man who had once tried to rape her, but she would take it and give it to Morag when he was gone.

  ‘Thank him for me.’

  ‘Come in and thank him yourself.’

  ‘Later.’

  ‘Not too much later. He’s talking about leaving on Monday. He can’t afford to wait any longer.’

  ‘Will you be going with him?’

  ‘That’s still to be settled. But I think I will.’

  ‘You’ll miss Grandfather’s funeral.’

  ‘That wouldn’t break my heart. You’ll have Hamilton to stand by you. He won’t be jealous about the scarf. He’s not small-minded.’

  I’m the one that’s small-minded, thought Effie.

  She went off to join Hamilton, Morag, and Eddie. Eddie was organising a race.

  ‘What was that about?’ asked Hamilton.

  ‘I’ll tell you later.’

  She couldn’t resist, though, pressing her face against his breast. This was now her sanctuary.

  He felt her shivering. He stroked her head.

  Eddie watched, impatiently. He was about to start the race and here was Effie still holding things back. Morag watched too and was glad for Effie. It was silly of her, just ten, being jealous of Effie, yet she was, a little.

  Eddie got them lined up, giving himself a very generous start. He suspected that Hamilton would not try as hard as he should to beat Effie. He had noticed, and been reasonably pleased, that Hamilton would give Effie everything he had, but he ought to do his best to beat her. What was the use of a race if everybody didn’t try to win?

  Never had Effie been so light-footed and light-hearted. She ran, Hamilton said, like a deer. He kept close behind her and at the finish where they arrived together caught her in his arms.

  Eddie came up, puffing. He declared Effie the winner but claimed that he would have won if he hadn’t slid over.

  In the caravan, looking out of the window, Mrs Williamson was proud of her daughter.