‘I wasn’t being cheeky. I was just agreeing with her.’
‘It’s OK, hen. Ah’m no’ that thin skinned,’ she assured Teresa. Then to Florence, ‘How’s yer hoose daein’, hen? Ah hear it’s like a wee palace.’
Florence preened with pleasure. ‘Well, it is rather nice, though I say it myself. You must come for afternoon tea one Sunday with Mother.’ She was calling Teresa Mother instead of Mammy as often as she could remember.
‘Well thanks, hen, ah’d love tae come. Just you say the word.’
‘I’ll study my diary and let you and Mother know what Sunday.’
Granny spluttered out some tea and crumbs. ‘Study her diary? Could ye beat it? Honest tae god, our Florence is a better turn than anythin’ in the Pavilion.’
‘Granny, everybody has diaries nowadays,’ Teresa said.
‘Ah huvnae, an’ neither huv you. Ah bet Mrs McGregor hasnae such a thing either, huv ye, hen?’
‘No’ me, but ma eldest has, right enough. Her that’s goin’ tae be in the WAAFs.’
Florence held up a pinky as she sipped from her tea cup. ‘Joe and Pete have been posted to France, Mother. Did you know?’
‘Yes, dear, the twins told me.’
‘Of course my Eddie wanted to volunteer but I said, “No Eddie, you’re doing important war work at Singer’s. That’s where you’re most needed.”’ Everybody knew the secret of Eddie’s epilepsy but out of consideration for Florence, as well as for Eddie, no one referred to it.
Mrs McGregor nodded wisely. ‘Aye, ye’re quite right, hen.’
‘Poor Euphemia and Bridget are really worried now,’ Teresa said. ‘They were quite happy while the boys were at Maryhill but now, when they’re so far away in a foreign country … Oh, I do hope they’ll be all right. They’re good boys, both of them.’
‘Well,’ Granny said, ‘that’s war for ye. The chances are they’ll be blown tae smithereens.’
‘Granny!’ Florence and Teresa cried out in unison.
‘Ah always said …’
‘We know what you always said, Granny.’
‘Aye, but naebody wid listen tae me, wid they? Or tae yer daddy. Ah’ve been a Socialist and a pacifist aw ma life, an’ so has ma Erchie. Ah mind the first war. The war tae end aw wars, they said, an’ look at us now. Ah always said …’
‘Yes, all right, all right, Granny,’ Teresa interrupted desperately. ‘Mrs McGregor, can I pour you another cup of tea?’
‘No thanks, hen, it’s time ah wis back down the road. They’ll aw be in soon wantin’ their tea. Ah’ve still the tatties tae peel.’ She rose. ‘Nice tae see ye, Florence. Ye look lovely, hen, but ye’d better watch that hat disnae fly off yer heid.’ She left the kitchen with a howl of laughter, followed by a smiling Teresa.
When Teresa returned to the room, she said, ‘Fancy! Mr McGregor’s been called up.’
‘He’ll be glad to escape that mob of his,’ Florence sniffed. ‘I mean, fourteen, Mother. It’s not decent.’
‘Oh well, at least it’ll give Mrs McGregor a rest. She’s the one I’m sorry for. Poor soul. She’s been pregnant nearly every year since I’ve known her.’
‘It’s sheer ignorance, Mother. There’s ways and means after all.’
‘Oh aye!’ Granny cast a sarcastic look in Florence’s direction. ‘Miss know-all. See if your man wisnae …’
‘Granny,’ Teresa almost shouted, ‘have another piece of shortbread. I made it specially for you.’
‘First ah heard o’ it.’
Nevertheless Granny couldn’t resist another piece and chomped away quite happily for a few minutes while Teresa admired Florence’s purchase of linen napkins.
‘Are you going to keep them for special occasions, dear?’
‘No, no, Eddie and I like to do everything properly. We’ll use them all the time. He’s the same as me. He likes to see a nice table, so I always set it nice. We always use fish knives and forks.’
‘All the time?’
Florence rolled her eyes. ‘No, of course not, Mother. When we have fish for dinner, I meant. By the way, has there been no invitation to the West End yet?’
‘To the Cartwrights’?’
‘Can’t you at least drop a hint to Wincey, Mother? After all, they’ve been here and they know how good we’ve all been to Wincey. One would think the least they could do …’
‘Doctor Houston has been for lunch a few Sundays but that’s different. I don’t see the need for all of us to go over there, Florence.’
‘Well, I do, Mother. Does Wincey suddenly think she’s better than us, or what?’
Teresa sighed. ‘Don’t be silly, dear. Wincey’s still the same as she’s always been. She only goes over there to the West End at weekends anyway.’
‘Well, I think we’re entitled to an invitation. And if you don’t say anything to Wincey, I will. If you and Father don’t want to go, that’s fine. And of course Granny wouldn’t be able. But I think me and the twins are entitled. After all, we’ve been like sisters to Wincey all these years.’
‘Oh, all right, Florence. I’ll have a word with Wincey.’
Florence brightened. ‘Thank you, Mother. I’ll get a new dress. I saw a really smart one in Pettigrews today. A ginger crepe trimmed with black cord and a gorgeous hat that was really a huge bow attached to a tiny cap.’
‘Sounds ridiculous,’ Granny said. ‘Ah can see you makin’ an ass o’ yersel, as usual.’ She enjoyed a good laugh that revealed her pink gums. ‘Aye, as ah said before, hen, ye’re a better turn than anythin’ in the Pavilion.’
10
‘That awful old man,’ Florence said, ‘was sitting in the close smoking a pipe when I came in.’
‘Oh here, Teresa.’ Granny became anxious. ‘Get me oot there, hen. Mr McCluskey likes me keep him company. Poor auld soul. That daughter o’ his should be shot for the way she treats him! What harm would he dae havin’ his pipe in the house?’
‘He’d make it all stinky and horrible,’ Florence said. ‘I perfectly understand why Miss McCluskey won’t allow that filthy old pipe in her house.’
‘His house,’ Granny corrected. ‘Come on, Teresa, hurl me oot.’
‘All right, I was just getting your tartan rug and your hat. There’s a cold draught whistling through that close.’ Granny was already clutching a shawl around her shoulders. Now Teresa tucked the tartan rug over the old woman’s waist and legs and pulled a felt hat over her wiry grey hair. Then she pushed the wheelchair from the kitchen, along the lobby and out to the close. Mr McCluskey’s wrinkled face, with its bushy moustache and eyebrows, lit up with pleasure.
‘There you are, hen.’
Granny pushed Teresa’s hands off her shawl. ‘Stop fussin’ about me. Away ye go an’ listen tae Florence talkin’ a whole lot o’ rubbish.’
After Teresa had retreated back into the house, she added to her companion, who was well wrapped up in jacket, muffler and bunnet, ‘See oor Florence! She’s a younger version o’ your lassie. Mad about her house! She wid shoot ye rather than let ye smoke in her place. Ma Erchie—that’s her daddy—wisnae allowed tae enjoy a Woodbine when we visited her. We were frightened tae move. Ah’ve never gone back. Ah dropped a scone on her front room floor. Ye know how ah suffer wi’ ma hands. My God, ye widnae believe what a carry on Florence had. She was runnin’ about like a headless chicken. Ah telt her, “See you an’ yer stupid house, it’ll no’ see me again.” An’ ah’ve kept ma word. Ah’ve never gone back there.’
Mr McCluskey sucked at his pipe. ‘Awfu’ hard tae thole lassies like that.’
‘At least ah’m no’ stuck wi’ oor Florence aw the time. Or the twins. They’re about as bad. Ah don’t know what’s got intae the three o’ them. Wincey’s no’ like that. Ah telt ye about oor Wincey, didn’t ah?’
‘Aye, fancy the Cartwrights, of aw folks! Ah mind him. Bad auld bastard!’
‘The son—that’s Wincey’s daddy—isnae like his auld man. Ma Erchie says as far as he can judge by his b
ooks, he’s maybe no’ a pacifist but he does seem tae be a bit o’ a Socialist.’
‘Auld Cartwright’ll be birlin’ in his grave if that’s true.’
Granny nodded. ‘Aye, mind that munitions factory he had? He made a fortune out the last war. He’d be doin’ that same wi’ this one, if he wis alive.’
‘An awfu’ business. Ah saw ye had Mrs McGregor in. She said her man had been called up.’
‘Aye, they’re aw gettin’ shoved over tae France, ready tae stop the Germans in case they turn up there. But it’s no’ now that Adolf Hitler should have been stopped, it’s at the time o’ the Spanish Civil War when he was flexin’ his muscles that he should’ve been told tae get off. But did ye hear a peep out o’ the high heid yins then? Naw. They were aw for him. So of course he thought he wis ontae a good thing.’
‘Aye, an’ now it’s ordinary lads like your grandweans’ men and Mrs McGregor’s man left tae clean up the mess. An’ if they dinnae manage it, he’ll be over here.’
‘Hitler, ye mean?’
‘Aye, wait till you see. If he gets intae France, it’s only a hop, skip and a jump from there tae here.’
‘What a carry on, eh?’
‘Aye,’ Mr McCluskey sucked contentedly at his pipe. ‘Ah mind Johnny Maclean prophesyin’ that there would be another war.’
Granny sighed. ‘We’ll no’ see the likes o’ him again. Our Johnny had the courage o’ his convictions an’ he suffered an’ died for them.’
It was Mr McCluskey’s turn to sigh. ‘He wis a good man, our Johnny.’
Suddenly Miss McCluskey’s lean, aproned frame appeared in the doorway of the house. As usual, she was gripping a duster in one hand.
‘You’re tea’s ready, Father,’ she announced. ‘Put that filthy thing out.’
She began flapping her duster around in an effort to dispel the sight and smell of tobacco smoke. ‘That filthy thing will be the death of you yet.’
Granny let out a sarcastic ‘Mair like you will! Always naggin’ at the poor auld soul. Ye’ll be auld yersel wan day.’
Miss McCluskey’s face tightened with anger but she turned back into the house without another word.
‘Ah’m sorry, Mr McCluskey,’ Granny said. ‘Ah should have kept ma mouth shut. But she makes me that angry, the way she treats you.’
‘Och, she’s no’ a bad lassie. It’s just she’s that house proud. She’ll have a nice tea waitin’ for me an’ she aye puts a hot water bottle in ma bed at night. She knows ah feel the cold somethin’ terrible.’
In that case, Granny felt like saying, she shouldn’t force you to sit in this cold draughty close every day. However, for once, she controlled her tongue.
‘Ah’d better away in,’ Mr McCluskey said, extinguishing his pipe and fixing a wee metal lid on it before stuffing it into his pocket.
‘Nice talkin’ tae ye, Granny.’
‘See ye tomorrow, Mr McCluskey.’
‘Aye, fine.’ He staggered up and struggled to lift his chair.
‘Leave that. Ye’ll do yersel a mischief. Teresa,’ she suddenly bawled.
Slippers scuffing on the linoleum, Teresa came hurrying along the lobby, shouting, ‘What’s the matter, Granny?’
‘Help Mr McCluskey in wi’ that chair, will ye, hen. He’s no’ very steady on his feet.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Teresa took the chair from the old man. ‘On you go, Mr McCluskey. I’ll follow you in.’
In a couple of minutes, Teresa had returned and was pushing Granny’s wheelchair back into her house.
‘You gave me a fright there, Granny,’ she said, shutting the door behind her. ‘I thought you’d taken a wee turn.’
‘When have ah ever taken wee turns? Ah’m no’ like Florence’s man. It’s arthritis ah’ve got, no’ …’
‘Yes, all right, Granny.’ Teresa raised her voice as they entered the kitchen. ‘Oh, is that you ready to go, Florence? Are you not waiting until your daddy comes home. He’ll be sorry to have missed you.’
‘I know,’ Florence said, smoothing on her gloves, ‘but I like to be home in time to set the table properly for Eddie’s dinner and have a nice meal ready to dish up.’
‘Wi’ yer fish knives an’ forks?’ Granny said.
‘No, it’s not fish this evening, Granny. It’s spaghetti bolognaise.’
‘Oh!’ Granny pretended to sound impressed. ‘Isn’t Eddie the lucky one.’
‘Yes, but he’s very appreciative,’ Florence said. ‘I believe this Sunday would be all right for afternoon tea, Mother. You can bring Mrs McGregor and I’ll invite the twins as well.’
‘Oh that’ll be nice, dear.’
‘About two thirty, then?’
‘Yes, I’ll look forward to it. Maybe Granny will be able to come this time.’
‘Naw.’ Granny sadly shook her head. ‘It’s funny but ma arthritis is aye worse on Sunday afternoons. But maybe ye can keep a wee bit cake for me, Florence hen.’
‘Yes, of course, Granny. I’ll give Mother something nice for you. Now I’d better go.’
‘Cheerio, hen.’ One of Granny’s arthritic hands raised in a feeble effort to wave.
‘You could have gone. You know fine,’ Teresa said, after she’d returned from seeing Florence to the door. ‘It would have been a nice wee outing for you.’
‘A nice wee outin’, ma erse!’
‘Granny!’ Teresa scolded as she removed Granny’s hat and eased a comb through her hair to neaten it again and secure it with the oversized kirby grip.
Granny said, ‘Well, ah cannae be doin’ wi’ aw this fuss she makes an’ that house o’ hers. An’ dinnae kid yersel’. She disnae want me clutterin’ up the place.’
‘She doesn’t mean any harm, Granny. She’s really very fond of you.’
‘Och, ah know. What’s for oor tea the night?’
‘Shepherd’s pie. And there’s some apples and custard for pudding.’
‘Great.’ Granny’s eyes brightened. ‘That’s Erchie’s favourite as well. Is Wincey goin’ tae be here?’
‘Yes, it’s just Tuesday, Granny. You know fine well she doesn’t go to the West End until Fridays.’
‘Aye, but she sometimes goes out wi’ Doctor Houston straight from her work.’
‘He’s gone away to the Navy, Granny.’
‘Och aye, ah forgot. Ah hope that’s no’ the end o’ it.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. I certainly hope not—for Wincey’s sake. He’s just going to be in the naval hospital at Port Edgar. He says he’ll probably get home for the occasional weekend.’
‘What dae ye bet he’ll end up in France wi’ the rest o’ them.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so, Granny. It’s just the army that goes over there. Anyway, don’t say anything like that to Wincey. You’ll just upset her.’
‘Maybe. Maybe no’.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s a funny lassie. Ye widnae know how she’s feelin’ about him goin’ away. She could be feelin’ relief for aw we know.’
‘Now, now, don’t be silly, Granny. She loves the man. That’s always been obvious enough to me.’
‘Aye well,’ Granny muttered. ‘Aw ah say is, she’s a funny wee lassie. No’ that ah blame her, mind, after aw that she’s been though. It’s no’ surprisin’ that she’s no’ normal.’
‘For goodness sake, Granny, don’t exaggerate, and don’t you dare let Wincey hear you saying anything like that.’
‘She’ll work night an’ day until she forgets aw aboot him, if ye ask me.’
‘Nobody’s asking you, Granny, so just hold your tongue.’
‘Aye, well,’ Granny humphed, ‘ye’ll be auld yersel’ one day.’
11
‘Have you read this?’ Virginia asked, showing Nicholas the newspaper. He nodded gravely. The doom-laden message confirmed that this was no longer a ‘phoney war’:
LOCAL INVASION COMMITTEE
A local invasion committee has been set up in
order to deal with invasion conditions. During the present period, the committee is engaged in making preparations to deal with the local problems which will arise in invasion, such as:
1 Organisation of civilian labour to assist the military in preparing defence works, digging trenches, clearing roads etc.
2 Care of wounded.
3 Housing and sheltering the homeless.
4 Emergency cooking and feeding.
5 Emergency water supplies.
6 Messenger service.
If invasion comes, the committee will direct its action:
a To meet the requirements of the military.
b To attend to the needs of the civilian population.
‘It’ll never come to invasion, surely?’ Virginia said.
‘Didn’t you hear what’s just been announced?’
They had finished supper and Virginia had read the newspaper while Nicholas listened to the wireless. The announcer had said, ‘Here is the BBC Home Service. The German Army invaded Holland and Belgium early this morning, by land and by landing from parachutes. The BEF are fighting a desperate battle in the northern zone of the Western Front …’
‘But never here, surely, Nicholas?’
‘Why not? If the BEF can’t hold them back, they’ll be into France. Then what’s to stop them crossing the Channel? Except …’ A look of pride registered on his face, ‘the RAF. Boys like our Richard.’
‘You really think it’ll come to that?’
‘I hope not, but it doesn’t look too promising at the moment. I was thinking of joining the local defence volunteers. Anthony Eden was on the radio earlier appealing for volunteers.’
‘Local defence volunteers?’ Virginia echoed—so he couldn’t take time off from his writing to have lunch with her or to go for a walk in the gardens in the afternoons but he could join the army without a second thought. ‘Aren’t you too old?’
‘No, it’s men aged sixteen to sixty five, and I’m sure my experience in the last war will come in handy,’ he said. ‘It’s an important job—guarding railways, factories and canals and opposing enemy paratroops.’
Clydesiders at War Page 7
