She had done it! She had actually locked her mother in, something she would never have dreamt she could do, would never have dreamt of doing … at a normal time, but this was anything but a normal time.
Awake early, Lizann unlocked Mick’s door and put the key in her pocket in case she needed it again. She had the fire burning well and the toast ready by the time Hannah came down. ‘I’m not eating anything you made!’ she said viciously, and before Lizann could stop her she threw her toast into the slop pail followed by the contents of the teapot. While she waited for the kettle to boil again, she stuck a slice of bread on the prongs of the toasting fork and sat down at the fire. Everything to her liking at last, she walked over to the table, giving her daughter a wide berth as she passed.
Lizann heaved a desperate sigh. She felt bad enough already without being treated like this, but if she said anything her mother might turn more against her.
They were still at the table, Hannah with her back to the door, when Lou came in. She raised her eyebrows at Lizann, then, satisfied by her niece’s head-shake that nothing untoward had happened since she left, she came forward and addressed her sister. ‘I hope you’d a good night’s sleep, Hannah. How d’you feel now?’
Waiting until she had swallowed her last mouthful, Hannah said primly, as if to a complete stranger, ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ She collected her dirty dishes into a pile and stood up. ‘I’m going to Willie Alec now.’
‘You’d better go wi’ her, Lizann,’ Lou whispered.
But Hannah had heard. ‘I don’t want her!’
Her sister took her arm. ‘Will you let me come wi’ you, then?’
Lizann cleared the table, washed up the dishes and was sweeping the floor when Lou came back, looking completely defeated. ‘I canna get her to leave him. She’s demented.’
‘I know that.’
The undertaker’s men came at eleven, and after giving them a cup of tea when their task was over, Lou went outside with them. She was some time in coming back, her face agog with what she had just learned from Babsie Berry, who had called her over to tell her. ‘D’you mind Jockie saying somebody in Buckpool had died, and all? Well, you’ll never guess who it was. Bowfer Tait!’
‘Peter’s father?’ Lizann exclaimed.
‘Aye, he died awful sudden and all, in his bed … on Peter’s wedding night, poor laddie. The bobby had to get him and his bride out o’ their hotel to tell him.’
Still holding a deep affection for Peter, Lizann wondered sadly how he was feeling. Her wedding night had been ruined by George being so drunk, but what had happened to Peter was much worse.
Noticing that her niece’s eyes had misted, Lou said, ‘You still think a lot o’ him?’
‘We’ll always be good friends,’ Lizann murmured. ‘I’m awful sorry for him, and what must his poor wife have felt when …?’
‘That’s something else Babsie tell’t me,’ Lou interrupted. ‘A woman that was at their wedding tell’t her it was a downright disgrace the road the bride carried on …’
‘I don’t want to hear,’ Lizann said loudly. ‘Some people say anything to cause trouble. Peter wouldn’t have married her if she wasn’t a decent girl, and I hope they’ll be very happy together – once he gets over his father’s death.’
She wished that she and Peter could comfort each other, like he had comforted her when she thought she’d lost George … but he didn’t need her – he had a wife. It was strange, though, both their fathers dying suddenly like that, and hardly any time between them.
Jake Berry having spread word of Willie Alec’s death, several people came during the afternoon to offer condolences and, as was the custom, to be taken to view the remains. They were taken aback, however, when Lou led them into the parlour, to find the widow seated by the coffin, clasping the ice-cold hands crossed over the shroud.
One old woman shook her head sadly when Lizann showed her and her friend out. ‘Poor Hannah, she doesna believe Willie Alec’s away. She asked him if he was warm enough.’
Her companion tutted her distaste for this. ‘I’ve never seen onybody taking it like that before, but of course she just lived for him. It wouldna surprise me if it’s her next.’ Remembering that she was shaking hands with the widow’s daughter, she added, in some embarrassment and only putting her foot in it further, ‘I’m sorry, Lizann, I didna mean that, but she’s nothing to live for now he’s away, has she?’
Wanting to shout that she had a son and daughter to live for, Lizann merely said, ‘It was an awful shock, but I’m sure she’ll get over it.’
‘Oh, aye, so she will, so she will.’
When she went inside, Lizann repeated what had been said, and her aunt looked at her apologetically. ‘Maybe that woman wasna so wrong, at that. Your mother never had a lad before she met Willie Alec, everybody ken’t that, and she fell for him hook, line and sinker. She’s depended on him ever since, she’s never had to stand on her own two feet, and when she does accept his death – though I’m some feared she’ll never accept it – but even if she does, I’ve the feeling she’ll go down the hill quick.’
‘No, Auntie Lou,’ Lizann muttered, tearfully. ‘I won’t let her give up and neither’ll Mick.’
‘Well, lass, you can try, but you can see how she is the now.’ This reminded Lou that she still had to accomplish something. ‘I’m going back to try to get her away from that coffin. She’s been sitting there for hours and it’s nae good for her.’
But once again Hannah refused to be shifted. ‘If I leave him, he’ll wonder where I am,’ she wailed.
Lou put her hand under her sister’s elbow. ‘Come on, Hannah, m’dear.’
‘Let go, I’m biding here.’
‘You’re upsetting Lizann. Think on her.’
‘She’s got a man to look out for her, and it’s him that’s to blame for …’ Putting a hand to her mouth, Hannah stopped.
Gathering that, in her confusion, she couldn’t remember what she had against her son-in-law, Lou said, gently, ‘George wasna to blame for Willie Alec’s death.’
Hannah looked up at her piteously. ‘Death? My Willie Alec’s dead?’
‘Aye, Hannah, he died yesterday morning and it was nothing to do wi’ George. It was a heart attack and I’m truly sorry for you, m’dear, but come ben the house now, like a good lass.’
Releasing the hands she was holding, Hannah stood up to obey her elder sister, as she had obeyed her since they were children. Lou put a finger to her lips when they went into the kitchen, and settled her charge in her usual armchair. ‘I’ll make another cuppie. That’ll cheer you up.’
The tea cheered none of them and they sat silently, Lizann miserably aware that her mother was cringing away from her. Then she felt her aunt nudging her. ‘We’d best see if her black frock’s clean,’ Lou whispered. She pushed Lizann ahead of her and closed the bedroom door behind them. ‘I was thinking, if she wants to sleep in her own bed the night seeing it’s clear now, dinna let her. It’s next door to the parlour, and …’
‘She’ll not listen to anything I say,’ Lizann muttered. ‘She can’t even bear me near her.’
‘She’s mixed up in her mind, and you’ll need to go easy wi’ her till she comes out o’ it.’
‘Will she ever come out of it?’
‘Oh, lass, I canna tell you that. She aye took troubles a lot worse than me, she was never able to face up to them. But we’d better get out her black frock, she’ll need it for the frunial.’
After supper, Lou offered to sleep with Hannah to make sure she stayed in bed, whichever room she went to, but Lizann said, ‘Uncle Jockie’ll be expecting you home, and I can lock her into Mick’s room again. We’ll be all right.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Lou stood up and put on her coat, but out at the door she gave her niece one last piece of advice. ‘If she starts ony nonsense at bedtime, get Jake in. He’ll carry her up the stair on his back if he has to.’
Lizann went inside with a glimmer of a sm
ile on her face.
Almost an hour later, when she was gathering courage to get her mother up to Mick’s bed, Mick and George came in. It was so unexpected, and so welcome, that she jumped up. ‘Oh, George,’ she moaned, flinging herself at him, ‘I’m glad you’re home.’
He had to wait until her tears stopped before he could tell her why they were back early. ‘A trawl skipper contacted us with a loud-hailer yesterday. Your Uncle Jockie had got somebody to radio him to ask him to pass on the message.’
‘That must have been when he went to the undertaker,’ she gulped. ‘He never said, but it was awful good of him.’
‘Anyway, Heck turned the boat and headed for home. God, Lizann, I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you at the time.’
Hannah had also risen and was now encircled in Mick’s arms, her eyes less vacant, but still dry as he murmured words of love and sympathy, and it was George who took over the tea-making. Hannah sat down when he handed her a cup and Mick went to Lizann. ‘She looks kind of queer,’ he whispered. ‘Is she all right?’
‘No, she’s not.’ Lizann told him what had happened, and ended, ‘Auntie Lou thinks she shouldn’t go to her own bed in case she goes through to Father in the middle of the night, but now you’re back …’
‘Let her go to my bed and I’ll sleep in hers till she …’
They were all startled when Hannah suddenly flung the cup from her, the contents splashing over hearthrug and linoleum. ‘I’m not drinking this. Not when he made it.’ She pointed her finger at George.
While Lizann dried up the mess Mick made another pot of tea, and when Hannah emptied her cup he said, ‘Right, Mother. Up to beddie-byes.’
Lizann couldn’t believe her eyes when Hannah let him take her arm and went with him as docile as a lamb. Remembering the key in her pocket, she ran after them, and Mick nodded his understanding.
In another ten minutes, the house was in darkness – Mick having sent Lizann and George to bed and going to the parlour himself to look at his father before he went to the adjacent bedroom.
Curled in her husband’s arms, Lizann said, ‘It’s been awful, George, and my mother … I know she got a shock, but she’s been so nasty …’
‘I could see you were near the end of your tether, my darling, but try to get some sleep now.’
Knowing that Mick would attend to their mother if she kicked up any noise, Lizann closed her eyes and was asleep almost at once.
The funeral was an ordeal for all the family, although Hannah appeared quite normal to the other mourners. When the minister said prayers over the coffin, only the women were present, and the tears shed by the widow and her daughter were just what was expected. Many of the older men had been to Bowfer’s funeral the day before, and looked tired and drawn as they stood in the street – this being the ritual – until they could walk behind the hearse to the kirkyard. Several skippers had returned to port early so that they and their crews could attend, for Willie Alec Jappy was well known and well respected, and most of them went back to the Yardie for the funeral tea, crowding in until there was barely room in the kitchen to take a breath.
When the grieving family was left alone at last, Hannah said rather tremulously, ‘Well, he got a good send-off.’
Putting up a prayer of thanks that her mother was no longer confused, Lizann nodded. ‘And they all had a good word for him. Now, is anybody ready for another cup of tea?’
Hannah frowned and looked at Mick. ‘Tell her she’s not to make tea for me, for I’ll not drink it.’
‘Ach, Mother, surely you don’t think she’s going to poison you?’
‘I wouldna put it past her. She’s ill-wished me for a while.’
‘She blames me and George for Father dying,’ Lizann muttered sadly.
About to round angrily on his mother, Mick thought better of it. ‘I’ll make the tea, then.’
Hannah was allowed to go to her own bed that night, and when she was out of the way, Mick said, ‘I’m going to pay off the shipyard.’
Lizann was shocked. ‘You can’t afford to do that.’
‘It’s what Father would have wanted. He didn’t want anybody saying a Jappy reneged on his debts, and surely Jones’ll let me take over the monthly instalments.’
George seemed uncomfortable. ‘I’d offer to help, Mick, but …’
‘No, no! It’s up to me. You’ve Lizann to think on.’
When George lay down beside his wife that night, he said, ‘I hope you didn’t think I was selfish saying I couldn’t help Mick, but we’ll have to get a house. We can’t stay here if your mother’s going to carry on like that.’
Lizann shook her head. ‘I can’t leave her on her own.’
‘Mick’ll be here at the weekends, and Lou would likely look in on her every day. We have to move, my darling, or we’ll end up fighting with each other.’
She still looked doubtful. ‘It maybe won’t be long till she comes all right again.’
Hannah was not ‘all right’ even by the time Mick and George went back to sea over a week later, and when Lou heard what George had suggested, she said, ‘Aye, it might be best if you got a house, Lizann. You’re nae safe here wi’ her, and it looks like she’ll never get ony better.’
Over the next month, it seemed that Lou had predicted correctly. There was no sign of Hannah improving; in fact, there was every sign that she was deteriorating. No matter what Lizann did for her, she still acted as if she couldn’t bear her daughter near her, and she was hardly civil to her son-in-law when he was at home. Lizann had clung to the hope that time would heal the rift, but George was growing so irritable with her – because of things her mother said – that when he came in on Friday 17 December and told her he’d heard a two-roomed house in Freuchny Road was vacant, she said he might as well go and ask about it.
He had already found out who was dealing with the property and went there straight away, hoping that the office was still open and praying that the house hadn’t been let to someone else. The factor told him that it had just been vacated the day before. ‘It’s very small,’ he went on, giving George the key, ‘and I think you should have a look at it before committing yourself. Some folk leave an awful mess behind them, and I haven’t had time to inspect it yet.’
‘I don’t care what state it’s in,’ George smiled. ‘I’ll take it.’
As he signed the Missive of Let he wondered if he had been a bit rash, but even if the place was filthy he was prepared to work at it until it was fit to live in. At least it was well away from the Yardie, and with Hannah’s legs getting more tottery every day, she wouldn’t be likely to visit. When he went to Freuchny Road, he was pleased to find both rooms immaculate. They were really tiny, the kitchen at the front opening into the bedroom at the back, but they would have to do till he could afford something bigger. Before going back to tell Lizann the good news, he ordered some second-hand furniture from the auction rooms in Blairdaff Street, to be delivered the following morning – only what was absolutely essential, and even that would have to be paid up so much a week.
Lizann had been having second thoughts about leaving her mother, but she had no option but to agree when George presented her with the fait accompli, and said she would start packing their belongings in the morning while he was taking in the furniture. Hannah had listened to everything and said nothing, but Mick went to get some boxes from the grocer. While he was out he slipped along to tell Jenny he would be busy all Saturday helping Lizann and George to flit. He came back with three tea chests and said he would get the loan of a hand-cart to take them to Freuchny Road when they were packed.
Lizann was inclined to be weepy next day. She hadn’t had time to think properly, and she would be in a house up the town by nightfall, a house she hadn’t even seen yet and didn’t know anything about except that it just had two little rooms. She felt no guilt now at leaving the Yardie, however, for her mother had made it clear that she didn’t want her here. When she packed the last of the wedding presents, s
he took a look around her room to make sure that nothing belonging to her had been overlooked. All that was left, apart from the furniture, was the picture on the wall and that wasn’t hers either. She would have to give it back, much as it went against the grain.
She took it down and studied it. There was something in it that got to her, an atmosphere of … the only way she could describe it was … love. Whatever Hannah had felt about the artist, it was quite obvious how he had felt about her – as though there was a bond of some kind between him and this girl who was gazing forlornly out to sea. The creel slung over the shoulders made the figure seem more waif-like, emphasized a sadness that might not have been there in real life, although Hannah had hated selling fish from it. It would be sacrilege if the picture was hidden away again.
Lizann carried it down to the kitchen, where her mother, as usual, was huddled over the fire. ‘Will I put this back in the lobby press, or will I leave it in the bedroom?’
Hannah turned round slowly, her eyes darkening when she saw what her daughter was holding. ‘You’re taking all the rest of your things,’ she said harshly, ‘so you’d be as well taking that and all.’
‘But it’s yours. Father had it done for you.’
‘I didna encourage Robbie! I didna!’
This totally unexpected statement took Lizanna’s breath away. So there had been something between artist and model, but she would have to tread warily. ‘Robbie? Was it him that drew …?’
Hannah glanced desperately around her. ‘Willie Alec didna notice at first, then he said onybody could see from this that Robbie loved me.’
And that was true enough, Lizann reflected; she had seen it herself. It seemed that her father had accused his wife of encouraging Robbie, so that was why the picture had been hidden away, but everybody had always said that Hannah never had eyes for any man except Willie Alec. Surely she wouldn’t have …
Another detail came back to Lizann’s mind. ‘When I found the picture, you told me you were married to Father when you were posing for it?’
The Girl with the Creel Page 18
