And she was gradually coming round, Jenny thought, one fine morning. Little pieces of the ice that had imprisoned her heart for so long were beginning to break off. She could actually smile occasionally, speak to people about the war without a spasm of sorrow for her husband making her stop in confused embarrassment. Time was a healer, but not long enough had elapsed yet. Her emotions still seized up when Georgie asked when Daddy would be coming, but, thankfully, she could confine her tears to the solitude of the double bed now.
Someone giving a sharp rap on her door, she went to see which of her neighbours had called, and was quite taken aback to see a stranger, a tall elderly man with silver hair and a fresh complexion that told he wasn’t a seaman of any kind. His clear blue eyes were looking at her apologetically. ‘Yes?’ she asked, wondering what had brought him there.
‘I’m sorry to bother you, but does Willie Alec Jappy still live here?’
This astonished Jenny even more. ‘No, he died years and years ago.’
His face fell. ‘I was hoping to … but I have left it too long. What about Hannah … his wife? Is she still alive?’
‘No, I’m afraid she’s dead, too. Did you know them?’
‘I did. I was quite close to them at one time.’
Detecting tears in his eyes, Jenny felt a sudden rush of sympathy for him. ‘You’d better come in, Mr …?’
‘Chapman. Robbie Chapman.’ He followed her inside and took the seat she indicated. ‘You are very kind, Mrs …?’
‘Jappy.’ She gave a slight smile. ‘I’m Jenny, Mick’s wife … his widow. His ship was blown up earlier this year. Did you know him?’
‘He was only about a year old last time I was here, but I’m so sorry, Mrs … um, Jenny. How are you coping? Have you any children?’
Robbie Chapman had the knack of establishing instant rapport and Jenny didn’t feel that she was talking to a stranger. ‘Two, a boy and a girl. Lizann, after Mick’s young sister – she hadn’t been born when you were here before – George after her man. He was lost at sea before the war.’
Robbie nodded. ‘Yes, the sea is a cruel master. Was that how Willie Alec died, too?’
‘No, he’d a heart attack, and Hannah never got over it.’
‘Did she have a heart attack, as well?’
Jenny hesitated then said quietly, ‘Yes, her heart stopped suddenly.’ It was the only thing she could say, and it wasn’t a lie. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea, Mr Chapman. You look like you need cheering up.’
He raised grateful eyes. ‘Thank you, my dear, it’s been quite a shock. I was so looking forward to seeing …’ Pausing briefly, he gave a tight smile. ‘Please call me Robbie. Not many people do nowadays.’
He studied the fire until Jenny made the tea, and when she handed him a cup he said, ‘I’d better tell you my story, but first, did Hannah ever show you a sketch of her as a fishwife with a creel on her back?’
About to say no, Jenny recalled the picture which had hung over the kitchen fire at Freuchny Road, though Lizann had never said it was her mother. ‘I’ve seen it,’ she murmured, guardedly, for she couldn’t think what it had to do with anything.
‘I’d known Willie Alec for years, though we were never what you would call pals, and when I heard he’d married a lassie from Portessie, I was pleased for him. He knew I was interested in sketching folk, so when he asked if I’d draw his wife, I thought it would be good practice for me. Besides, I wanted to see the kind of girl he’d chosen. Hannah wasn’t at all happy about being drawn as a fish-wife, but Willie Alec insisted that he wanted a permanent reminder of how she looked the first time he saw her, and she agreed to pose for me.’
Jenny sat enthralled as he told her how he had gone to the Yardie on week nights – as Willie Alec had instructed because he didn’t want to see the sketch until it was finished – how he had fallen in love with his friend’s wife and how he had repressed his feelings in the belief that she was only being friendly with him to please her husband.
‘Of course,’ Robbie continued, ‘something had to give. I was spinning the drawing out as much as I could, and I was pretending to change a few bits one night when Hannah came over and stood close beside me. Well, that finished me. I grabbed hold of her and …’
When he broke off, Jenny had to contain her curiosity. She couldn’t believe that prim Hannah – who according to all sources had never had eyes for anyone but Willie Alec – had let another man kiss her … maybe more? At last she had to ask, ‘Didn’t she tell you to stop?’
‘I think she was too surprised at first. Anyway, her kisses were all the sweeter to me for being forbidden fruit … and then, all of a sudden, she jumped away and started to cry. I apologized for upsetting her and left.’
He regarded Jenny anxiously. ‘That would have been that – I’d have kept away from her – if Willie Alec … he loved the picture, and he asked me to supper every Saturday as a way of paying me. Hannah looked guilty every time I went in, and I don’t know if that’s what made him jealous, or if he could see how I felt about her. Anyway, he managed to hide it till she told him she was going to have another child. He was waiting outside for me when I turned up the next night, and accused me of being the father.’
His listener looked at him as if he had led her up the garden path before, but his smile was frank as he continued, ‘He wouldn’t listen to my denials at first, but I got through to him at last, and I think it made him love her all the more to know she was still so innocent as to believe kisses would make her pregnant. I can only think that my last few kisses had been too passionate for her.’ He grinned now. ‘I suppose you know the kind I mean, Jenny?’
Colouring, she gave a small nod. The first time Mick had given her a French kiss she had worried herself sick till her period started … but Hannah had been a married woman, and according to what Robbie had said, she’d already had Mick. She must have known how babies were made.
Robbie gave a long sigh. ‘Upon my oath, I was never intimate with her. I did manage to convince Willie Alec I was speaking the truth, but he said it would be best if I stopped going to the Yardie. I thought things over long and hard and decided to leave Buckie altogether. I had often fancied my chances as an artist in London so I just packed up and went.’
‘Didn’t you try to get in touch with Hannah again? To explain?’
‘No, though I sometimes thought of coming home to ask her forgiveness for the trouble I caused. I should have known I was playing with fire by being alone with her for an hour or so five nights a week.’
His mournful eyes cleared suddenly, and giving a low chuckle, he said, ‘Ach, you’ll think I’m in my dotage telling you about things that were over and done with more than thirty years ago. I’ve had a good life. I did get married and I loved Dora, but sadly, we had no children.’
Just then, Jake Berry gave a tap and walked in, stopping in dismay when he saw Jenny was not alone. ‘I’m sorry lass. I didna ken you’d a visitor, but Babsie sent me to tell you she’s giving your bairns their dinner. She wanted me to ask you and all, but you’ll …’
‘Tell her thanks, but I’ve got dinner made here, and maybe Robbie’ll help me to eat it.’ Not wanting to be drawn into long explanations as to who Robbie was and perhaps make the Berrys delve into their memories and come up with two and two making five, she said that he had been a friend of her father’s, and Jake went away pleased that she had company.
She turned to Robbie again and prompted, ‘Is your wife …?’
‘She died nearly six years ago, and I tried not to give myself time to brood about her. I’ve kept busy, and I don’t miss her as much as I did.’
‘I’ll never stop missing Mick,’ Jenny said, bursting into tears.
‘Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. I’m an insensitive brute, but let me pass on some advice I got. I had been a widower for over three months when I met someone I hadn’t seen for a while. He knew of my bereavement but was shocked to see me looking so haggard, and even more shocked that I had
shown nothing in the recent art exhibitions. “Get out of the Slough of Despond, Rob,” he scolded me. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it does no good. If you can’t face sugary sympathy from friends, however well-meant, look for people who are also needing help. You may find it beneficial for you, too.” What he said made sense, so I offered my services to a club for youngsters in the East End, and I got as much pleasure out of coaching the boys in football as they did.’
He eyed Jenny uncertainly. ‘You are not in the same position as I was, you have two young children to look after, but I think you, too, have sunk into the Slough of Despond. Have you no friends?’
‘Just neighbours,’ Jenny sniffed, ‘and they’re all ancient.’
‘As am I,’ he grinned. ‘But you’re an attractive young woman, Jenny, and there must be another man out there who will …’
‘There couldn’t be another man like Mick.’ She stood up resolutely now. ‘But you’re right, I’ll have to give myself a shake and get out and about more. You’re my first new friend, so you’d better help me eat what I made for the dinner.’
‘I’ll be delighted,’ he grinned.
During the meal he told her more about the work he had done with the youngsters, and finally admitted that a heart attack had forced him to give it up. ‘The doctor warned me to take things easy, and it was while I was resting one afternoon that I got this deep urge to come home and spend some time with my older sister.’
Jenny couldn’t help noticing that he was still referring to Buckie as home, but she did not remark on it as she stood up to clear away the dirty dishes.
Robbie insisted on drying them and it wasn’t until she was laying them past that he said, ‘I was trying not to ask this in case you think I did have something to do with it, but it’s nothing more than curiosity. You said Mick had a young sister. Was she the baby Willie Alec thought …?’
Jenny shook her head. ‘Lizann was five years younger than Mick.’
‘So she’s not … wasn’t there one in between? Perhaps a year and a half younger than Mick?’
‘There was just the two of them that I know of … no! Wait a minute! I nearly forgot! Lizann once said her Auntie Lou told her there was a baby between her and Mick, but I think it was still-born.’
‘Oh, how sad,’ Robbie murmured. ‘You know, when I’d had time to think about it properly, I realized Hannah was just a touch … what should I say? Unstable? Little things I connected long afterwards that showed … but I shouldn’t be saying things like that to you.’
‘You’re right, though. Her sister had always looked out for her, so there must have been something unstable about her all along, and she turned funny when Willie Alec died. Poor Lizann had an awful time with her.’ Jenny paused, recalling the years of suffering she’d had herself.
‘Mick’s sister will have been a great comfort to you since he …’
This was too much for Jenny. Throwing herself into his arms, she wept quietly on his shoulder for some time, and when at last she drew away, embarrassed and ashamed, he said gently, ‘I think you should tell me, my dear. Mick’s death wasn’t the only thing to have upset you. It had been the last straw, the worst of all … yes?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘Whenever you like,’ he coaxed, ‘take your time. You’ll feel better when you’ve got it out in the open. It’s easier talking to a stranger, someone who isn’t involved.’
It was easier. Nevertheless, Jenny still took quite a time to tell him – a complicated story going back many years, involving people and events which, although it did not appear so at first, did have some bearing on what happened later. Lizann’s engagement to Peter; her fight to marry George and how she lost both him and their baby on the same day; her mysterious disappearance; Lenny Fyfe’s infatuation with Elsie Tait and the subsequent tragedy.
‘Poor Lenny,’ she murmured here. ‘His mother didn’t know it was his fault Elsie died, and she wrote and told him about it. His commanding officer sent a letter the very next week saying he’d been killed in an accident during his training, but I’m near sure there hadn’t been any accident. I think he committed suicide.’
Jenny told Robbie everything except what Elsie had done to Hannah – that was something she could never divulge to anyone – but he seemed to be most taken up with the subject of the missing Lizann. ‘You should have reported it to the police. They would have done everything in their power to find her.’
‘She gave up her house and took all her belongings with her, and Lou was sure she didn’t want to be found. It wasn’t till Peter’s wife told me what she’d threatened that I realized that’s what had made her run away, and there was what I said as well, though I wasn’t hitting at her at all. She must have been nearly out of her mind.’
‘How long is it since you saw her?’
‘Over three years. Mick always said she must be happy where she was, and nothing bad could have happened to her or else we’d have heard.’
Robbie nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I suppose you will have to draw comfort from that. Now, Jenny, I have thoroughly enjoyed talking to you, but I had better go, otherwise my sister will think I’ve dropped down dead somewhere. I am rather tired – resurrecting dormant emotions can’t be too good for a man in my condition, but I don’t regret it.’ He stood up and held out his hand. ‘Would you mind if I kept in touch? I want to know how you get on, and if you ever hear from Lizann.’
When both his smooth hands clasped hers, Jenny’s heart ached for him. He was obviously a lonely man and living hundreds of miles away from the place he still considered home. ‘I’d like if we kept in touch,’ she assured him, ‘and, remember, you’re welcome back any time, Robbie.’
She went inside thoughtfully. It had come across quite clearly that he had no real friends down in London, which was most surprising, for he was such a nice man. Maybe he’d been too taken up with his wife and his painting to bother with outsiders. Maybe he’d never really got over what the Jappys had done to him – fancy him still loving Hannah after all these years and coming all this way in the hope of seeing her again. It was very sad. Well, apart from Georgie and wee Lizann, she herself was the only Jappy left, and it was up to her to make things up to him. Once he let her know his address, she would write to him every week.
* * *
As Robbie walked away, he couldn’t get over how little the kitchen had changed. He could picture Hannah with the creel on her back standing on the clootie rug in front of the fire to let him sketch her. He had not been entirely truthful with Jenny. After leaving he had sent a letter to Hannah, a letter of hopeful apology, but she hadn’t replied. He had been convinced that Willie Alec had destroyed it without her ever seeing it, but it was possible that she hadn’t wanted to answer. And he should be thankful for that. After all, if she had run away with him to conduct an illicit affair, which is what he had hoped, he would never have left home, would never have made his name as an artist.
Robbie smiled suddenly. The head of a publishing firm had asked him some years ago if he had thought of writing his autobiography. He had said no at the time, but having had the memories of his young manhood so vividly recalled – he had actually felt again the see-sawing of his love for Hannah and his hopes that she might love him, the heartbreak of her rejection which had made him run off to London, the misery of living in poverty until people with influence took notice of his paintings – he realized that the first part of a book was waiting to be written and he was itching to get started. Hannah’s childlike belief that kissing would make her pregnant, even though she had already conceived and given birth to one child, would not be the only element which would make his book different from run-of-the-mill life stories. There was his seafaring background. He would describe how, over the course of two years, his mother had lost her husband and two of her sons to the sea, which was why she had encouraged him in his ambition to be an artist and had kept his early sketches of family and friends. Most of them were still in the attic, acco
rding to his sister, who had given up a good job in a Glasgow hospital to nurse their mother in her last illness and now lived in the family home in Cliff Terrace, a spinster, but neither lonely nor sourly old. Unfortunately, the only sketch that would be of any value, the one he still considered his finest because of the love he had felt for his subject, was lost to him. Probably Willie Alec had burnt it to save Hannah being reminded of her folly … poor, naive Hannah!
He had never stopped loving her … but perhaps it had not been love, just nostalgia for his youth. He had loved his Dora as a man, though he had been disappointed that she had not borne him a son to perpetuate his line. Not that he would have cared if it hadn’t been a son …
The next thought to enter Robbie’s mind made him stop with his hand on his heart. A strong pulse was beating in his throat, but he came to the conclusion that it was too momentous a decision to rush. He would have to take time to think it over properly. In fact he might be better not even to mention it to Pearl when he got back, but wait until he had settled down in London again before giving it his full consideration. There was no fool like an old fool, as they said, and having been such a fool in his youth, he had no wish to repeat the degradation of rebuttal.
‘Are you all right?’ Pearl asked anxiously when he went in. ‘I was beginning to worry with you being away so long.’
‘I’m fine, just a bit tired.’ Wondering how much he should tell her, he plumped for absolute honesty. He would go over everything that had been said, however much it might shock her, but there was no need to mention what he had been thinking just before he arrived home.
Having suspected at the time how he had felt about Hannah, Pearl was not shocked at that. It saddened her that Hannah and Willie Alec had died while she was in Glasgow, and George Buchan and Mick Jappy, though she hadn’t known them. She was intrigued by Lizann’s disappearance, and the shock only came when Robbie told her about Elsie Tait’s life and death. ‘I hope Jenny’s not like her?’ she asked, afraid for her brother.
The Girl with the Creel Page 41
