by Millie Gray
Sam let Carrie exhaust herself with sobbing before speaking. “Don’t worry. Hannah will make it. She was brought up by Mam, and it will never dawn on her that the burden she’s been left with is too heavy for her. Like Mam did, she’ll just get on with it.”
“Wish I was as confident as you, Sam,” Carrie sobbed, wiping her tears away and smudging her face with mud. “Oh, I just wish there was some man who’d come along and marry her. Help her with it all. But who’s going to take on nine bairns, bairns just like us with minds of their own – not to mention the thirty sheep, twenty hens, an insomniac cockerel, three ponies and a randy cow?”
Sam laughed softly while he rocked Carrie to and fro lovingly. “Carrie, she has remarried.” Carrie looked up in shocked bewilderment. “She’s now wedded to her church and no matter what happens she’ll feel certain it will never let her down.”
Before Carrie and Sam could say more, they became aware that an old man, carrying an even older spade, had arrived to assist them.
“That’s good of you to give us a hand,” Sam remarked.
“Och, what else could I do but help such a good-living woman,” he said, making a little bow to Carrie before adding, “I’m Euan MacNeill who has spent all his days here on Herrig and never thought I would be fortunate enough to meet up with a true saint.”
“You think my sister is saintly?” said Sam, quite mystified.
“Indeed, I do,” Euan replied. “Because she is the only person, forbye the bishop when he was here last week, to be allowed to relieve herself on Father Donald’s newly-installed con-ven-i-ence. So I said to myself that she could only be honoured in such a way because she is a truly saintly and good-living woman.”
Carrie let out a gale of laughter, grabbed Euan’s wrinkled hand and kissed it. Sam too was chuckling but, looking at his sister, he said to himself: Carrie should always laugh because even though she doesn’t have the good looks of Hannah and Alice there’s something just so wonderfully engaging about her face whenever she laughs like that.
14
GOING FULL CIRCLE
“Headmaster,” said Carrie for a second time, raising her voice slightly. Willie Hamilton reluctantly looked towards her. “It’s just that you have two local residents still waiting to see you about the boys stealing from their fruit trees.”
Willie sighed. “And how many boys are involved this time?”
“Just two…I mean three if we count the one that fell out of the tree and is now having his minor scratches treated by the janitor.”
“And who is that boy?”
“Only one of the infants that Miss King enrolled this morning. Joe’s his name – he’s the younger brother of Wattie Scott.”
“Are you saying we now have another of the Scott clan?”
Carrie gulped. “Y-yes. And Wattie did assure Miss King he had nothing to do with pinching the plums and said he had definitely told Joe not to follow him up the tree.”
Willie turned away sadly and looked up at his beloved creation on the wall: the school’s wooden shield, depicting children climbing trees, skipping with ropes and kicking balls; but most importantly, carrying the school motto Omnia Neganda Sunt inscribed in his own meticulous calligraphy. He had been headmaster of the school for less than a month when he decided that his own school, in keeping with nearby, up-market Leith Academy Primary, should have a shield and an appropriate motto. He had thought long and hard before he came up with Omnia Neganda Sunt. No one knew what the motto exactly meant, except for some of the teachers who had chuckled quietly when seeing it for the first time. On the day he had proudly hung it on the wall behind his desk, Carrie, who had no knowledge of Latin, asked him what it meant. Smilingly he’d replied, “Before I retire, in three years time, if you haven’t worked it out for yourself I’ll tell you.”
Willie acknowledged to himself that his looming retirement was the reason he felt so down today. Yes, he thought: today, the very first day of the new school session, signalled his final year in the profession. He had come into teaching after being demobbed. Moray House Training College had a course specially created for returning servicemen and after witnessing the senseless carnage of war for five years he had felt the urge to see children being educated to think for themselves. Hence he decided to join the ranks of those people who might be able to do just that.
Now he had been a headmaster for ten years. At first it was so much easier for a man rather than a woman to be promoted to a headship; but things were changing and he knew that competent women like Miss King would soon see to it that merit – not gender – was the pathway to promotion. Being headmaster, he knew, had never given him the satisfaction that classroom teaching had. This was why he never asked for replacement teachers when a member of staff went off sick. He had always jumped at the opportunity of going back into the classroom; and until the teacher returned he would be in sheer heaven doing what he truly wanted to do – and what he was best at. That was also the reason he had persuaded Carrie to start studying and sit her O-grades. And she had passed all three, thanks to his tutoring her every afternoon when the school had settled down for the final period of the day.
Willie was still thinking about Carrie’s continuing wish for more education when there came a knock at the door and Miss King entered. “Ah, headmaster,” she began with a smile, “now that the janitor has tidied up Joe Scott, it would be of great assistance to me if you could see him first.” Miss King hesitated before going on as she could see that Willie was distinctly reluctant to comply with her wishes. “As you know, the infants only attend in the morning for the first two weeks and he should be home by now.” As there was still no reaction from Willie her voice adopted a more authoritarian tone. “I have calmed down the irate residents for you – so you only have the culprits to deal with, Mr Hamilton.”
Willie sighed and nodded his assent. Miss King then opened the door and called Joe Scott into the room before departing, closing the door emphatically behind her.
Joe Scott was too small to be seen over the head’s high-backed desk, so Willie indicated that Joe should come round to the side.
“Now, my lad,” began Willie, “what have you to say for yourself ?”
Without the least hesitation Joe piped up, “It wisnae me, sir. It wis some big boy who ran away!”
“And how was it then that you were caught with plums up your jumper?” Willie reminded him, pointing to the ample plum juice stains on Joe’s pullover.
Joe didn’t even hesitate before blurting out, “Yon big boy…”
Willie interrupted, “That would be the one who ran away?”
“Aye,” replied Joe confidently, “but before he did a runner he pushed the plums he nicked up my jouk!”
Willie sighed and turned to look meaningfully at the shield behind him. Then, glancing sideways he noticed Carrie stifling a laugh. “You’re amused, are you, Mrs Fraser?”
Still grinning, Carrie replied, “Yes, sir. You see, I won’t need to wait now till you retire to know what the school motto means. I’ve worked it out for myself!”
Willie grinned. “Oh, you have, have you?”
“Yes. It’s so simple! It’s what every child who’s done something naughty says when you ask if he was responsible for the misdeed.”
“And that is?”
“It wisnae me!”
By the time the school had settled down after the short afternoon break, Willie was still feeling down-spirited. He knew he should have belted the two older boys who had been stealing the plums but he had an aversion to hitting children with such a cruel weapon – a weapon that hurt him more than the child he punished. Carrie’s suggestion that he might like a cup of tea broke into his thoughts and had him thinking again about her educational future.
“Carrie,” he said, looking across the room towards her, “now you have your O-grades, I was thinking that we should start on getting you a couple of Highers.”
“But why would I want to do that?”
“Beca
use all you need to get into Moray House are two Highers and an O-grade in Maths.”
Carrie looked bewildered. “You really think I should go to teacher-training college?”
“Yes indeed,” Willie emphasised. “Surely you don’t want to be a school secretary all your life.”
“But that’s away above me. Besides, I’m very happy here at the school. Suits me just fine.” Carrie could plainly see how disappointed Willie was by this, so quickly added, “But I will sit the Highers because I like English and Modern Studies.”
Willie smiled. “Right, we’ll start today and as we go along you may well change your mind.” He was about to discuss what Carrie should be reading when there came an unexpected knock at the door. “Not another raid on the Victoria plums, I hope,” he commented rising wearily to answer the summons. He didn’t know who felt the more surprised – Carrie or himself – to discover that the visitor was none other than Sam.
“Very sorry to disturb you, sir,” Sam began, removing his inspector’s cap and tucking it under his arm. “I was wondering if I might have a quick word with Carrie.”
“Something wrong with Mum?” Carrie cried in obvious alarm as she rose and joined her brother at the door.
“No, no,” replied Sam. “But I must speak to you. Where can we have some privacy?”
“I’ll take a walk for ten minutes,” Willie suggested diplomatically and promptly left his office.
The moment the door closed, Carrie asked frantically, “What is it, Sam? Please don’t tell me something’s gone wrong for Mum or poor Hannah again.”
Sam shook his head. “No. They’re fine. But it’s a problem that the two of us – or at least one of us – has to deal with.”
Carrie slumped down on her chair. “Oh, Sam, you know I’m happy to do anything I can – but Will’s buying himself a new car…so if it’s money…well, as per usual I haven’t got any. Or at least any to spare.”
“Money? Oh, Carrie, when has money ever been an insurmountable problem to us?”
Carrie smiled. “I know that fine. D’you mind when we were just bits of bairns and needed to get the rent paid, or else be evicted?”
Sam grinned back at her. “Course we did! Some way or another, we always made it, didn’t we?”
“Mark you, Sam, once or twice we even resorted to… How would a politician put it? ‘Long-term borrowing’ perhaps? Never thieving!” Carrie took Sam’s hand as she remembered their daring youthful exploits.
Her impish smile disappeared sharply when Sam spoke. “It’s Dad!”
“But what has our Dad got to do with us now?”
“Well, to tell the truth, absolutely nothing. But my friend, Father O’Malley, who’s the only person in the Catholic church to know of our existence, told me confidentially that our Dad’s in the City Hospital and that he’s … dying. And not dying at peace, he tells me, because his conscience won’t let him.”
“So you’re suggesting that you and me go and tell him just to forget it all and die with a clear conscience?”
Sam pulled himself up to his full height and he bent his head backwards so that he wouldn’t see the deep distress on Carrie’s face. Until now he’d been convinced that going and telling Johnny, their deserting father, that they bore no grudges and that he should go in peace had seemed the right thing to do. But witnessing Carrie’s dilemma he became painfully aware that the plight Johnny had left his young children in was something he had no right to expect them to forgive. And if he was being truly honest… could he, Sam, forgive the cold, the hunger, the deprivation, the loss of his childhood and, most of all, the burden that had been placed on his mother who, despite her recurring depressions, was left to provide for the family even when the burden was too much for her? Sam inhaled as he acknowledged that his mother, though just in her late fifties, was already worn out, yet remained determined to carry on toiling for the sake of her family.
Carrie was whispering, “I suppose I could go with you to visit him because I don’t want Mum burdened with it – but, be warned, I don’t think I’ll be able to say everything is hunky-dory.”
Sam was relieved. “And what do you think we should do about Hannah, Paul and Alice? I mean – do you think they should have the chance to say goodbye too?”
A loud “Huh” came from Carrie. “Say goodbye to their father? Oh Sam, come off it – for Paul and Alice it would have to be a hello! And aren’t you forgetting that Paul may be just round the corner but Alice is in Canada?”
“Yes, I know that, but Hannah was always closer to him than the rest of us.”
Carrie shook her head. “No, she wasn’t! It was just that she was older and so has more memories of him. Besides, she’s done well these last twenty-one months since Jamie died but I can’t see her leaving her children in Herrig just to come and hold Dad’s hand. After all, he didn’t find the time to hold hers.”
Sam accepted the justifiable bitterness that was oozing from Carrie but hoped that she would mellow by the time they actually saw Johnny. “I’ll pick you up then at half past eight tomorrow night.”
“Half past eight tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. Father O’Malley thinks it would be better if we saw Dad after his visitors have left.” Carrie looked puzzled so Sam explained. “Come on, Carrie, surely you understand. With him having passed himself off as a respectable bachelor, how d’you think he’s going to explain about Mum and the five of us kids?”
“Oh, I’ve worked that bit out for myself. It’s why tomorrow and not tonight that’s got me baffled.”
“Remember, Carrie. I told you last week that our police team is playing Hibs in a friendly tonight.” Carrie gaped. “On Easter Road’s hallowed ground, would you believe it, and I’m playing right-back!” Sam proudly announced.
“Right-back, Sam? You should try getting right back – right back to sanity!”
Carrie was almost finished washing up the tea dishes and Will was going over Sophie and Donald’s homework when he had to stop to answer the phone. “It’s Sam for you, Carrie,” he yelled. Carrie came through into the living room still drying her hands and looked quizzically at Will who just shrugged. “What’s up now, I wonder?” she asked, taking the handset from him.
“I’ve spoken to the Staff Nurse and told her you and I will call in tomorrow night to see Dad. The problem is she says he’s pretty low. Doesn’t think he’ll last much longer.”
“So we should go tonight?”
“Ideally, yes; but well, you see, I…I can’t,” stammered Sam. “But she says not to leave it any later than tomorrow.”
Carrie was about to accuse Sam of putting his beloved football before Johnny when the line went dead. Then she thought: why shouldn’t Sam go to his game? After all, he had always dreamt of playing on, rather than simply policing, one of Edinburgh’s football grounds – didn’t matter in the slightest whether it was Easter Road or Tynecastle – and if she was being truthful to herself, hadn’t their Dad always put himself before Sam?
“What was all that about?” Will asked.
“Just that Sam’s still going to play at Easter Road tonight even…”
“I know,” butted in Will with a big grin. “Donald and I are going to the game.”
“Though Daddy’s not that well! Wonder if I could get Mum to look after Sophie while I go myself ?” Carrie went on, fully aware of Will’s enthusiasm for the game.
“Look,” said Will, “why don’t I drive you? I’ll get Neil across the road to take Donald with him?”
“But you want to see the game. Couldn’t I just take Sophie with me?”
“No. Like me, she doesn’t even know him. So I’ll just nip round right now and get your mother to sit with her till we come back.”
“But I’d need to tell Mum why we’re going out.”
“So? It just means she’ll find out tonight about your Dad instead of tomorrow!”
Will took Carrie’s hand in his as they entered the ward. The night sister immediately came over a
nd warned them that the visiting-hour was now past.
“Yes, we know,” Will explained, “but we’ve come to see my wife’s father – John Campbell.”
The sister eyed Carrie up and down. “But his next of kin, his only next of kin, are his sister and brother.”
Carrie was about to answer when Will coolly said, “My wife here and her four siblings are the legal children of Rachel and John Campbell, and I should be obliged if you will direct us to his bed.”
Taken quite aback, the sister changed her tone. “But of course; and since he’s terminally ill you have the right to visit at any time.”
The guttural rasping of Johnny’s laboured breathing sent a shiver down Carrie’s spine. Looking at her father’s emaciated body was causing her to question whether any desire for vengeance was worth having even though he had so cruelly deserted his family. There was no way that she could wish it on him, or on anyone else, that they should finish their life prematurely and in such agony. The handsome face that she recalled from her childhood was now so gaunt that the strings holding his oxygen mask in place had rubbed wounds into his cheeks – wounds that were now open and weeping.
Carrie had been sitting by his bedside watching her father uneasily sleeping for some ten minutes and all that time she could do nothing else but reminisce. Remember how difficult life had been for Sam, Hannah and herself. How there were those times, when Mum was hospitalised, that they were left without any assistance from him – the times when as raw youngsters they had to evade eviction by finding the payment for the rent, or scavenge for food, or stick cardboard inside their holey shoes, or rummage riskily on the train lines for coal. She looked at the man who was now sinking fast and wondered how, when he had deserted them, he had even gone into the bedroom where Alice and Paul, two defenceless toddlers, were cosily asleep under his Home Guard greatcoat and, without a second thought, had removed it.
