McQueen's Agency

by Reynolds, Maureen

  Rita was so distraught that she stepped back and almost slipped on the wet deck. Joe went up to the wheel and pushed Mike out of the way, ‘Get in the cabin and stay there,’ he told him.

  Turning the boat around, he headed back to Dundee and within ten minutes Rita was getting off at the same place she had got on. Her legs felt like jelly and she knew she looked a right mess but she didn’t care. She was back on dry land.

  As she stepped off the boat, Joe came over and said, ‘Keep away from that guy. He’s not the person for a young lassie like you.’ He handed her the towel and her handbag. ‘Have you got your bus fare?’ He put his hand in his pocket and took out a shilling. ‘Here, take this and get yourself home.’

  She tried to thank him but the boat was already making it’s way back out onto the river with a surly looking Mike glaring at her through the window.

  She knew her face was a mess and she couldn’t go on the bus looking like this. When she got home her mother would ask all kinds of awkward questions not to mention the curious stares from the passengers

  She suddenly remembered the wet swimsuit. Thankfully it was black and she wiped her face with the wet fabric. Taking care not to smear mascara onto the white spotted insert. The chlorine from the pool made her eyes sting but once she was sure her face was clean, she made for the bus stance and got on board a bus just as it was leaving.

  Luckily she had the man’s shilling because when she looked in her bag for her purse, it was gone. That horrible Mike must have stolen it, which meant she would have had to walk home. The conductor took her fare and she sank back in her seat.

  She started thinking how silly she had been to have acted so dramatically. There was no way he would have put her overboard and made her swim. Then she remembered his look and she wasn’t so sure.

  Meanwhile, Mary had returned to the Victoria Arch and seen the cabin cruiser making its way across the river.

  She waited for the next bus with a feeling of relief.

  After she had her tea, she decided to go and see Rita and tell her about meeting the policeman. Rita’s mum opened the door.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mary, you can’t see Rita. She said she didn’t feel very well after her swim and she’s gone to bed. She didn’t even want her tea.’

  Mary was puzzled by this sudden illness. When she returned home she mentioned this to her mother, who said,

  ‘I hope she’s not coming down with a summer cold.’

  20

  Charlie Johns had been busy. He had managed to get the relevant documents from Australia House and the shipping company, regarding the emigrants who had travelled out to Australia during Harry Hawkins’ year long employment on the liner.

  Thankfully, there weren’t too many people from Dundee and the surrounding areas to check up on. He had managed to trace most of the names and was now left with the last two. He was now on his way to see the parents of a young couple who had left Dundee in the autumn of 1952.

  They lived in Cochrane Street; a dark, dismal street lined with tenement houses which was part of the Crescent area of the city. Their flat was three floors up a narrow spiral staircase and a neat brass nameplate was screwed to the brown painted door. P. MacDuff.

  A tall woman came to the door and it was obvious that she wasn’t long back from her work. She wore a colourful overall and her hair was covered with a floral turban. She gave him a wary look.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you but can I come in and ask you some questions?’ he said, after showing her his warrant card.

  By now the woman looked apprehensive and she called out. ‘Pat, it’s the police.’

  Pat was a large man who was quickly going to fat. He wore a pair of blue dungarees over a checked shirt and his hands were covered in a grey film.

  ‘Sorry, I haven’t washed my hands yet. I’m a bricklayer.’ He looked at his wife and said, ‘What’s this all about, Ella?’

  She shook her head.

  Charlie said, ‘I’m making inquiries about people who emigrated to Australia last year and your son and his wife are on the list.’

  Ella jumped up from her hair. ‘Has something happened to Pat and Jane?

  Charlie calmed her down. ‘No, it’s just that I’m working on an accident case concerning a steward who worked on the liner that took your family out to their new life, and I wondered if they had come back home again so I could speak to them.’

  Pat, who had moved to the sink and was washing his hands, laughed. ‘Come back? To this?’ He swept a large hand around the tiny room with the small window which hardly let in any sunlight. ‘Of course they haven’t come back. They’ve both got good jobs in Melbourne and are hoping to buy their own house soon. Their letters are full of the great lifestyle over there, not to mention the warmth and the sunshine.’

  Ella brought out some snaps. ‘These were taken a few months ago.’ There was pride in her voice. The small black and white photos showed a young couple standing on a beach, wearing big smiles and shorts and short-sleeved tops.

  Charlie made a few correct noises about how well they looked and thanked them for their help.

  He wasn’t getting anywhere and the last name on his list was his only hope. He glanced at it. Molly McQueen, Strathmartine Road.

  He decided to have a quick meal then go to see this woman. She hadn’t travelled out with the liner but had returned to Scotland during the relevant time.

  The house turned out to be a neat bungalow with a garden full of flowers. The path was made up of crazy paving stones and there were floral boxes on the windowsills. A very pretty house Charlie thought.

  The doorbell made a pleasant chiming sound and the door was opened by a young woman.

  ‘Miss McQueen?’ Charlie held out his warrant card.

  ‘No, I’m Mrs Whyte.’ She looked slightly alarmed by the sight of a policeman on her doorstep and gave a quick look up and down the street to make sure none of the neighbours saw him but apart from a few people in their gardens, no one took any notice of him. After all he wasn’t in uniform so he could just be a visitor to the house.

  After a minute the woman said, ‘You had better come in.’

  She ushered him into a neat lounge. The three-piece suite looked as if it had never been sat on and the sideboard was well polished. There were a few photographs in wooden frames on the mantelpiece and a lovely handmade rag rug in front of the unlit fire.

  She sat on the edge of the chair and asked what it was all about.

  ‘I’m looking for a Molly McQueen who used to live at this address. Do you know where she went?’

  Mrs Whyte shook her head. ‘We bought this house from a Mr and Mrs McQueen over a year ago. They went to live in Newport-on-Tay, but I don’t remember a daughter living here. It was just the two of them. He was retiring, he said. They had always fancied living near the river and that was why they were selling the house.’

  ‘Do you have their address?’

  She shook her head. ‘They never said where they were moving to, just that it was in Newport.’

  Charlie thanked her and stood up.

  ‘Is it something criminal?’ Her voice had a breathless, trembling sound.

  ‘No, it’s just a question of identifying someone.’

  As he was leaving, he noticed the phone in the hall. ‘I don’t suppose they gave you their phone number by any chance?’

  She shook her head again. ‘We didn’t really have much to do with them. We bought this house through an agent as we were coming back from Hong Kong where my husband worked. He did most of the dealings with the McQueens. I’m sorry I can’t help you, there wasn’t a phone in the house when we bought it.’

  Charlie smiled. ‘It was just an off chance that I would find Miss McQueen but thank you for your time.’

  She saw him to the door and watched as he walked away.

  Charlie had come to the end of his inquiries here. He would have to search for the McQueens in Newport but until then he decided to pay a visit to Tam.

&
nbsp; Tam had just finished his tea. Mrs Kidd was washing the dishes and she called out when she opened the door. ‘It’s Detective Johns to see you, Tam.’

  Charlie got a shock when he saw the old man. He seemed frailer than ever and even Rover wasn’t so bouncy. If Charlie could have got his hands on the person responsible for this change in the man and his dog he would have gladly locked him up and thrown away the key.

  Instead he said, ‘How are you today, Tam?’

  Tam cheered up at the sight of his friend and Rover wagged his tail. ‘Oh, I’m keeping fine but my shoulder is still a bit sore. Rover’s back has healed up and he isn’t limping as much. Jock was saying he can walk a bit faster now.’

  Mrs Kidd bustled across to the table with the teapot, two cups and saucers and a plate holding two cakes which she placed on the table. She took off her apron. ‘Now that you’ve got company, I’ll be off. Jock will be in later to take Rover for his wee dander.’

  Tam sighed. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without the Kidds. They’re so good to me.’

  ‘Have you any more news about Harry?’

  ‘Well there’s another lead I’m following up, Tam, so we’ll see how it goes.’

  He stood up and Rover hobbled to the door with him.

  Tam called him. ‘No, Rover, you’ll get your walk later.’

  Charlie was amused by the expression on the dog’s face as it hobbled back to the fireplace.

  As he walked down the stairs, he wondered why he was spending his own time on this case. His intuition said there was something more than an accident and hopefully when he managed to track down this Molly McQueen, everything would maybe be a bit clearer.

  Edna was on her last week at Albert’s Stores. Nancy was seemingly feeling much better and was due back the following Monday. She was going to miss this cheery shop, she thought.

  Mrs Pirie was a customer who normally came into the shop every day and she usually came in with her friend and neighbour, Sally. Although she didn’t know it, Sally’s nickname in the shop was ‘Snappy Sal’, because she was always complaining in a loud voice about everything she bought.

  Albert had warned Edna to always address her as Mrs Little. She hadn’t married until she was almost fifty and she was so grateful to be a married woman she insisted on being called missus. ‘Poor Mr Little never lasted the year after getting married. I think he gave up the ghost and died just to spite her.’

  Today, Sally was complaining about her groceries from the day before. ‘Now listen to me, Albert. My Rich Tea biscuits were broken, I had two chipped eggs and my half loaf was all squashed.’

  Albert smiled at her. ‘Well, give me your message bag, Mrs Little, and I’ll pack it.’ He deftly placed the three pounds of potatoes on the bottom and put the lighter things on top. He always knew that items would get damaged with her because she would put things like biscuits, eggs and bread on the bottom of her bag and the heavier items on top.

  Mollified, she came to the window to pay for her goods ‘Good morning, Mrs Little,’ said Edna.

  Sally suddenly sneezed loudly.

  ‘Bless you Sal … Mrs Little,’ said Albert in his usual jovial manner.

  Dolly Pirie came in later. Although Snappy Sally was a neighbour, Albert said Dolly got a bit fed up with her friend’s complaining. Dolly bought a quarter pound of boiled ham and a small white loaf.

  She handed over her money at the till and she liked to linger if the shop was quiet. ‘Are you married, Edna?’

  Albert called over. ‘Stop quizzing my assistant, Mrs Pirie. This is no Twenty Questions on the wireless and you’re no another Anona Winn.’ Still this was said with a laugh so the woman didn’t take offence at the remarks.

  ‘I’m just asking Edna if she’s married. Where’s the harm in being friendly Albert?’

  Edna smiled. ‘No, Mrs Pirie, I’m a widow.’

  ‘Well that makes two of us,’ she said, smiling at the shared misfortune of losing their husbands.

  ‘I never had any bairns. Have you any?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got a five-year-old son called Billy.’

  ‘Have you got him in one of the nurseries that’s springing up all over the place?’

  ‘No, my mum looks after him.’

  This seemed to please her. ‘Well that’s what mums are for, to look after their grandchildren and help out.’

  With all this information safely tucked under her floral head square, she made for her house, which lay in the close beside the shop.

  Albert shook his head. ‘She likes to know everything does Mrs Pirie but there’s no harm in her. She gets a wee bit lonely living on her own.’

  Edna smiled. ‘I don’t mind. I like her a lot because there’s nothing subtle about her. If she wants to know something, she just comes right out with it and asks.’

  Edna was aware that Eddie was looking at her during this conversation but when she smiled at him, he blushed. He was about the same age as her. A tall, thin man with red hair slicked down with Brylecreem.

  A quiet man, she thought. Edna had hardly spoken to him during her time at the shop. Albert was chatty and he did most of the talking, not to mention the customers and Mrs Pirie in particular.

  Later that morning, Mrs Pirie turned up again. ‘A tin of condensed milk, Albert.’

  As she was paying for it she said, ‘Do you want to come for some dinner today, Edna?’

  Over the past week, Edna had brought a sandwich and a flask of tea to the shop. It saved her making a mad rush home at dinnertime.

  ‘That would be lovely, Mrs Pirie. I usually get off from twelve till one o’clock.’

  ‘Well, I’ll see you then, Edna.’

  At twelve o’clock, Edna went to the close next to the shop. Mrs Pirie lived on the second landing and she was standing at her door, waiting for her guest.

  ‘Come in, I’ve made some soup.’ She had laid the table with a lovely embroidered cloth and there was a wonderful smell of cooking.

  Edna was quite touched by all the preparation the woman had gone to and she said so.

  ‘Just call me Dolly,’ she said as she sliced a loaf of bread and put it on a floral plate.

  The room was small and although it was quite mild outside, there was a small fire burning in the grate, Apart from the table there was a sideboard that looked really old and two red fireside chairs. Another wooden table in the corner held a large wireless. Dolly had switched it on but the volume was turned down low.

  A wedding photo was on the sideboard. A tall, thin man with a bushy moustache and dressed in a military uniform stood to attention beside a very pretty girl in a white dress.

  Dolly said, ‘That’s my wedding photo. Ronnie and I were married in 1914, just after the start of the war. He went away to France and was killed at Loos in 1915. We only spent a fortnight together before he died.’

  Edna was shocked. ‘That’s terrible, Dolly.’

  ‘Aye well, that’s what wars do to people. They take your men away and they never come back and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.’

  Dolly filled two plates with soup. ‘Come and sit down, Edna.

  ‘You said you were a widow, Edna. Was your man killed in the war?’

  Edna shook her head. ‘He was in the army during the war and afterwards he decided to become a regular soldier. He said the pay was good and now that the war was over, the army would be a great job in peacetime. But then his battalion was sent to Palestine and he was killed in a bomb blast at a hotel in Jaffa. There were a large number of casualties and quite a number of deaths. His officer said he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. At the time I honestly thought what a stupid statement to make but now I can see what he meant.’

  ‘But you’ve got your little boy. Does he look like his dad?’

  Edna smiled. ‘No he looks like my mother except he hasn’t got curly hair. William never knew about Billy. He was in Palestine when I realised I was expecting and he was dead by the time Billy was born.’

 
Dolly looked visibly shaken. ‘That’s terrible. What did I say about wars.’ She sounded angry.

  Edna said, ‘You must come and visit me sometime Dolly. I live at 41 Paradise Road.’

  Dolly said she would. ‘But you’ve got another few days to work so I’ll see you then. I’m not looking forward to Nancy coming back and I don’t think Albert is either. She’s a sharp-tongued young madam and she throws your change down on the counter and then turns her back on you. It’s like she doesn’t value anyone’s custom.’ She turned to Edna and took her hand in her own frail looking, blue-veined one. ‘I’m sure Albert would like to keep you on. You only have to ask him. All the customers like you. So does Albert … and Eddie,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  Edna laughed. ‘I’ve hardly spoken to him, he’s so quiet.’

  It was Dolly’s turn to chuckle. ‘It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for.’

  Edna normally worked until dinnertime on Saturday and was surprised when Dolly and a few other customers came into the shop. Albert gave a little speech about what a great asset she had been to the shop and he presented her with a box of Milk Tray chocolates and a card.

  Dolly started to applaud and said ‘Hear, Hear’ while Snappy Sal asked why Edna was getting a card and sweeties when she was also getting a wage.

  Edna had to wipe tears away from her eyes. It was a lovely moment and it was gratifying to know she had been valued as a worker.

  ‘I just want to say thank you to everyone. It’s been a joy to work with you and to have met all your lovely customers,’ she said, meaning every word. Dolly began to clap again.

  Everyone laughed. Edna went up to Dolly. ‘I’ll stay in touch and come and see you if that’s all right, and you must come and see me, Billy and Mum.’

  Dolly looked as if she was going to cry. ‘Of course you can come to see me and I’ll visit you sometime. And I’ll give you all the latest about the dragon queen, Nancy.’

  Edna was getting her handbag from the tiny office when Eddie popped his head around the door.

  ‘I was wondering if you would like to go to the pictures some night, Edna.’ His face was bright red as he said it.