In a League of Their Own

by Millie Gray

  A voice jolted her back into the present. “Penny for them?”

  “Oh, Will,” she glibly lied, “I was just remembering when we were wee and Dad was at home.”

  The voices roused Johnny and slowly his eyes opened. “Rachel,” he gasped, trying to remove his oxygen mask.

  “No Dad, it’s only me.”

  Johnny squinted. “Carrie? Should have known…you see you’re the one that takes after my mother.” Carrie didn’t speak until Johnny croaked, “Anybody else… with you?”

  “No. Don’t know if you know it but Alice is in Canada and Paul…well Sam and Paul are on duty at Easter Road tonight at some buckshee friendly game.” Carrie felt it wasn’t exactly a lie to say that Paul and Sam were on duty at Easter Road. Sam was there because he knew it was his duty not to let the team down and Paul would be in attendance because he never missed a chance to see Sam play – even Yvonne couldn’t put a stop to that.

  “And Hannah?”

  “Hannah can’t come. She just couldn’t bring all the children nor can she leave them alone.” Carrie paused before adding, “Like Mum, Hannah’s children are her whole life and she’ll spend that life devoted to them and their welfare.”

  Johnny sighed before lifting the mask to his face again and breathing in more oxygen.

  “But she said she’d light a candle for you.” Carrie went on quickly, thinking that perhaps she should offer her dying father at least a crumb of comfort.

  A long silence followed. Then Johnny took a deep breath before removing the mask again to speak. “I’m so sorry for what I did. And I know you think you suffered the most,” he hesitated before adding, “but you didn’t – I did!”

  “What?” exclaimed Carrie, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice.

  “Aye, what a penance it was for me.” He stopped to gather strength, then continued, “A real penance not seeing my ain bairns every day and having your Granny’s condemnation. Could naebody see your mother was mad and I just couldn’t cope?”

  Carrie jumped to her feet. “Don’t you, or anyone, ever say my Mother is mad. Okay, she has her bad times but she never deserted us and now, having slaved all her life for us, she’s near done – done long before her time!”

  Johnny struggled to speak. “All I want is for you to forgive me. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Forgive you for leaving us to deal with what you couldn’t? Sorry, Dad,” she answered through clenched teeth, “I have the right to say that it’s okay by me but I haven’t the right to speak for my brothers and sisters – after all I just don’t know how they feel about all that was done to them.”

  Johnny gasped again and the tears streamed down his cheeks as he weakly replaced the mask that was now his lifeline. But Carrie didn’t see his anguish: she had turned swiftly on her heel and walked straight out of the ward. Will followed and when he caught up with her linked his arm through hers. “Could you not have let him go in peace?” he asked.

  “Maybe tomorrow. But tonight it’s just all too …” Emotion overtook her and all she could mumble through her sobs was, “What right has he to ask, tonight of all nights, that we forgive him?” Will knew better than to respond so she went on, “I mean, why did he have to get a conscience this late in the game?”

  They were just about to leave the hospital when a nurse called out, “Carrie?”

  Turning, Carrie found herself face to face with her childhood friend, Senga Glass. “Crystal!” exclaimed Carrie, hastily brushing her cheeks dry. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

  “Auxiliary nurse, would you believe it?”

  “Jolly good for you, Crystal.”

  “Well, I had to do something to keep my kids after my husband was killed.”

  Carrie squirmed. She should have remembered, since Sam had told her about the tragic accident that robbed Crystal of her husband. But here she was – a lassie who’d been so slow at school – now nursing, albeit as an auxiliary, yet sounding so confident and well-educated.

  “And I did some O-grades last year. And this year I’m going to try for a couple of Highers at Telford College.”

  Carrie laughed and called, “Snap!” Automatically, both young women raised their arms and struck each other’s palms triumphantly.

  “I did three O-grades last year and I’m doing three Highers this year. The headmaster at Hermitage School thinks I should go on to be a teacher but I’m hoping to go up to the City Chambers to bag a promoted post there.”

  “Same here! A nice wee job with the Council and a decent pension at the end of it is all I need.” Both young women smiled at each other before Crystal said, “But I’m so pleased you came to see your Dad. I recognised him right away – and with him being such a troubled soul I decided to tell the hospital priest the truth.”

  “What truth?” queried Carrie.

  “Just that his distraught sister, your Aunty Ella, and her sons were not really his next of kin – that there was your Mammy and all of you.”

  The Edinburgh City police team that ran on to the football park for the friendly match against the mighty Hibernian team was the best that they had ever fielded. Even better, Sam reluctantly admitted, than the team he had played in when they won the British Cup way back in 1955! Their expertise was due to the young but very able forward line – five fit, energetic and gifted footballers.

  From the start, all the fans knew that this match had been arranged primarily to give the Hibs side the experience of playing as a team before the real season began; but it was also an opportunity to allow the ground staff to check that all was well with the floodlighting – an innovation they were very proud of, being the first sporting venue in Edinburgh to have such a facility.

  Very quickly the exuberant spectators realised that the young police team would be no walkover for the professional side. Five minutes before half time, a right-wing movement involving Sam at right-back resulted in a corner kick for the police team. Sam remained up field for the kick and connected with the ball to send it high into the net past the surprised Hibs goalkeeper. This unexpected setback left the Hibs manager reeling and he was thankful when the half-time whistle blew.

  The second half saw some brilliant attacks by Hibs which were skilfully repelled by the buoyed-up police team. It was evident to all that the police side would probably be declared the winner and this recognition was so painful for some of the Hibs fans that they gradually began to leave the stadium. However, they were just spilling out into Albion Road when a roar went up – Hibs had eventually gained a corner kick and, greatly to the relief of their manager, the ball was headed straight into the net!

  On hearing the loud cheer, the deserting fans dashed to be readmitted to the ground but were denied access by Leith Division’s Sergeant Duff who announced, “You didn’t want to stay when you were getting beat so you’re no getting back in now they’ve half a chance of winning!”

  Far from demoralising the police team, the equaliser only served to galvanise them to greater effort and they mounted repeated relentless challenges to the flagging Hibs defence. So great was their determination that the manager and remaining fans recognised it was just a matter of time before the police team would score again. A Hibs defeat at the hands of an amateur side was more than the manager could bear, so he promptly ordered the final whistle to be blown eight minutes early – due, he declared, to failing light!

  It was nearly ten o’clock when Will’s car pulled into Hermitage Park. They had made good time since leaving the hospital and their fears of being delayed by the match crowds had proved unfounded. Nevertheless, they were surprised to see Donald just entering the house as they pulled up.

  “Donald, leave the door for us,” Will shouted as he turned the engine off. Donald turned and grinned. “Good match?”

  “Aye, Dad,” replied Donald who, having been allowed to go to the match, was feeling quite grownup. “Uncle Sam scored first and it ended up a draw and Uncle Sam’s team would have won easy but they were robbed becau
se the final whistle was blown too soon.”

  The banter between Will and Donald roused Rachel who had fallen asleep. “Oh, you’re back,” she said rubbing her cheeks in the hope that this might waken her properly.

  By now Will was ushering Donald upstairs to wash and then get ready for bed, while Carrie sank down on the chair opposite her mother. “How did it go?” asked Rachel, who had, herself, spent the evening in regretful reminiscing.

  Carrie shrugged her shoulders.

  “Nothing to say for himself ?”

  “Just wanted to be forgiven, Mum.”

  “So?”

  “How do you forgive something that really doesn’t matter any more?” Carrie lied. “Anyway you look all-in, Mum. I’ll call Will and ask him to take you home.”

  “I’d rather walk. You wouldn’t like to stroll with me?”

  “Why not?” replied Carrie, rising and then calling to Will that she was going to walk Rachel home and there was no point in him trying to change their minds.

  They had just made their way into Ryehill Avenue when Rachel simply had to speak: “Listen, Carrie. In addition to everything else that’s been happening tonight, I’m in a real mess. At least, I’m going to be.”

  Carrie stopped abruptly. “What d’you mean?”

  “Just that the blasted bakery is closing down.”

  “Scribban Kemp is closing down? But I thought it was doing well.”

  “No. Now that most folk, apart from me, have money to spend in the likes of Marks & Spencer and all the other posh shops on Princes Street, it puts the kibosh on wee second-rate businesses.”

  “So that’s why you never bring any of the chuck-outs home?”

  “What would you need with rubbish when Will brings you all the …” and here Rachel coughed ironically, “all the supposedly broken biscuits you’ll ever need!”

  Carrie ignored Rachel’s reference to Will’s new pal Fly Freddy, who was also the unofficial merchandise distributor when they were on night shift! “Forget all that,” she urged. “There are plusses in everything. That job in the bakery where you have to heave all those great unwieldy trays in and out of scorching ovens is just too much for you.”

  It was now Rachel’s time to stop. “You saying I’m past it?”

  Carrie hesitated, wondering whether to tell her the truth or not. “You’re not past it, Mum. But it’s just not acceptable, now that we’ve all got on so well, that you’re still having to do that kind of manual labour!”

  “And that’s the problem.” By now they had reached the back door to the garages and Carrie assumed they would take the usual short cut when Rachel exclaimed, “You’re surely not going to skip through that way at this time of night. We could end up murdered or worse.”

  By now Carrie had ducked through the small door and Rachel could do nothing else but follow her daughter. Not a further word was said until they were past all the garages and safely on to Restalrig Road. As they crossed over towards the Learig pub, Rachel raised her hand. “This is as far as you need to go with me.”

  Carrie didn’t reply but sat down on the low wall outside the pub. “Now,” she said, patting the wall beside her, “just you sit down here beside me and we’ll talk about your problem.”

  Looking around in disgust Rachel snorted, “Talk about my problem while all the folk in that pub are half out of their minds with drink and thinking they’re singing sensations? I think not.”

  “Okay, I’ll just come round with you and we can do it at home.”

  Changing her mind, Rachel sat down on the wall and began, “It’s just that at my age it’s so hard to get a job. They’re looking for young muscular folk.” Carrie nodded. “And, as for washing stairs and doing other folk’s ironing – well that was all right when I was bringing you up but now …”

  “Forget it, Mum. It won’t come to that. I’ll speak to Paul and Sam and we’ll come up with something.”

  “I don’t want charity. I just want another nice wee job like the one I have at the hospital.” Rachel sniffed. “Like dishing out the night drinks and blethering to all the patients. Especially helping the lassies that have just had bairns and don’t know what to do with them.”

  It was after eleven before Carrie reached home but she was pleased that, even when on her own, she hadn’t been murdered when taking the shortcut once more. Will was still up and more than a little surprised that, before speaking to him, Carrie went over, lifted the phone and dialled a number. Then she frowned when there was no one at the other end to answer. “Funny that,” she said, more to herself than to Will. “Where might Sam be at this hour? It’s not as if he would follow the boys for an all-night session.”

  Smiling, Will just shook his head. Carrie had never realised, or didn’t wish to acknowledge, that Sam had become a different animal since Emma had ditched him. Certainly he wouldn’t have an all-night drinking binge, but a couple of pints were the norm for him now.

  Looking out of the window into her back garden, Carrie felt she had achieved so much that morning. As soon as the school had settled in for the morning, she had taken the opportunity to speak to Willie. “Mr Hamilton,” she began, “I’ve been thinking about your proposal that I should study for some Highers this year…”

  Willie swung round in his chair to face her, “And?”

  “I think you’re right. Quite right that I shouldn’t be content to stay a school secretary. But I feel your suggestion that I go to Moray House and train to be a teacher is…well, honestly, that’s a step too far for me because I really have no desire to do it.” Carrie put up her hand as Willie made to interrupt her. “Hear me out, please. What I would like to do is to transfer to a promoted post in the City Chambers; and to give me the best chance of doing that two or three Highers under my belt would be an asset.”

  There was no response from Willie for a couple of minutes but eventually he said, “If that’s really what you want, then I feel that’s a pity since you’d have made an excellent teacher. But I suppose you’ll do very well up in the High Street if you join the personnel department.”

  “Personnel?”

  “Of course. After all, wasn’t it yourself who argued the case so eloquently for part-time clerical staff to be granted the right to join the pension scheme?”

  Carrie smiled. She had so thoroughly enjoyed contacting all her colleagues and persuading them to band together and demand the right to join the pension scheme – and also to have a retainer fee paid when they were off during the school holidays. Okay, they had only won a pittance, but she was certain that, as time went by, they would see an increase.

  Having advised Willie of her ambitions, Carrie had then tried to ring Sam but yet again he appeared not to be at home. As it was his day off she found this strange – and she just had to have him go with her that night to see her Dad because…well… she realised that, maybe, she’d had something of a change of heart.

  Carrie had just put the whistling kettle on the cooker and lit the grill when her front door opened and in strode Sam.

  “I remembered,” he explained, “that you usually came over at lunch time to redd up and snatch a bite to eat.”

  Carrie smiled. “Fancy a bit of toast and cheese?” Sam nodded and sat down at the small kitchen table. “About tonight…”

  “Don’t tell me you can’t make the hospital tonight either?”

  Sam shook his head. “I’m going this afternoon with Paul.”

  “With Paul?”

  “Yeah. You see after the match last night I took myself out to the City Hospital.”

  “So that’s where you were when I was trying to contact you.”

  “I’d thought I’d only stay a few minutes but Dad turned real bad so I stayed until …” Sam shrugged. “I know I should have called Aunt Ella to be with him at the end but somehow I just thought…was it so wrong for me to be with him?”

  Carrie shook her head before saying, “Dad’s dead?” Sam nodded. “Damn and blast! And here was I going to be so
magnanimous and forgiving! And he’s … Och well. Too late!”

  “Anyway,” said Sam. “Paul and I will get the death certificate and organise everything. We don’t want Mum bothered with any of that.”

  “Don’t suppose he’s left anything?”

  “He never earned much so I doubt it.”

  “Funny, isn’t it, when there’s a death in the family for any of my pals, they get left a wee something – but us, well, we always seem to need a whip-round to get our ain folk buried!” Carrie was silent for a time before saying, “You were all on your own at the hospital. Oh Sam, why didn’t you ring and ask me to come and sit it out with you?”

  Sam leaned back. “I wasn’t alone. Remember Crystal?” Carrie nodded. “Well, she stayed with me till I got myself together and the Staff Nurse gave her time off to go home with me.”

  “But I phoned you again and again.”

  Sam’s colour deepened. “Didn’t go to my house – went to Crystal’s. Nice wee flat she has, in Jamieson Place. And her two wee laddies are just great.”

  “And?”

  “Oh, after the bairns went off to school – and they’re both great wee footballers, believe me – I was all in, so Crystal made me turn in!”

  Carries eyes widened. “You what?”

  “Nice lassie she is. Come on a lot, she has. I’m going to take her out next week for a wee treat, so I am!”

  “Good grief,” Carrie exclaimed to herself as she walked up her garden path and saw that the storm door was lying wide open. “I must have been so upset about Dad that I didn’t remember to shut it.” On entering the house, however, she was confronted by Sam and Paul. “I see you’ve put that key I gave you to good use,” she said, observing that both her brothers were drinking tea.