The Good Sister, page 19
The two women turned to look at Fiona who was smiling eagerly.
‘Can I be involved? When you’re setting this house up. I know what people like me want – the sort of things they need to make them feel at home, to make them feel normal. It’s not as difficult as you might think.’
‘Oh, Fiona. I don’t know…’ her mother said.
‘Well, I’d certainly be glad of your help,’ Bel said, ‘and maybe my aunt would like to meet you – properly.’
‘Was that the lady with you last time? The older one? Can I, Mum?’
Elspeth hesitated. ‘Maybe. But Bel will have to ask her aunt first, make sure she agrees.’
This was the first time Elspeth had actually used Bel’s name. It had taken her daughter’s innate good sense to force her mother to remember her manners.
‘You two getting on okay?’ Matt emerged from the house, a tea towel in his hands. ‘Anyone for coffee?’
‘Thanks, but we must be going.’ Elspeth pushed back her chair. ‘Bel’s been telling us about the plans for her aunt’s house. It all sounds very interesting.’
Matt raised his eyebrows in Bel’s direction, a faint smile on his face. ‘Right. I’ll see you out. Be back to help you inside,’ he said to Bel as the three left her to sit and contemplate the dramatic change in the young woman’s attitude. It didn’t change the fact that she disapproved of Bel’s friendship with Matt, but did go part of the way in establishing some common ground.
*
‘I’m sorry about Elspeth.’
Matt and Bel were sitting side-by-side on the sofa, Bel’s foot supported by the large pouffe. ‘That’s okay. I think she finally realised I’m not the threat she imagined. I…’ Bel stopped, surprised to feel Matt’s finger on her lips.
‘Shh. I know what she imagined. Since Ailsa died, Elspeth has taken over my life – and I’ve allowed it to happen. She’s monitored my comings and goings, judged my friends, brought me food and generally tried to make herself indispensable. Until now, it hasn’t been a problem. She almost went to pieces when her mother died and taking on Ailsa’s role seemed to help her.’ He grimaced. ‘I should have stopped it long ago, but I had no reason to, and…’ he paused and pulled on his ear, ‘if I’m honest with myself, I quite enjoyed it. But now…’ He took a deep breath. ‘Now I’ve met someone I’m interested in, my daughter’s overly concerned attitude has the potential to make life difficult.’
Matt exhaled as if he’d come to the end of a difficult revelation. Bel noticed his ears turning red again and his eyes flickering in every direction except hers.
The flutter that had begun in her stomach with the touch of his finger became a full-blown shockwave. ‘Someone you’re interested in?’ Her heart raced as she waited for his reply.
‘This isn’t easy for me, Bel.’ Matt’s voice lingered over her name as if he was stroking it. ‘I’m out of practice.’ He exhaled loudly. ‘Too old for this sort of thing. But since meeting you, I’ve felt… stirrings… of something I never thought I’d feel again.’
Bel clasped her hands tightly in her lap, so tightly that her nails dug into the flesh of her palms. Matt’s words – tantamount to a declaration – were unexpected, but not unwelcome. She looked into his eyes, those deep brown eyes that had disturbed her dreams more than once.
‘Me too.’
Twenty-two
Isobel – 1955
The years passed quickly and, as we’d expected, wee Isobel grew up without us. Nan brought her to see us each Christmas, but Col’s shift work made it difficult for her to come more often. That and the cost of travelling across the country.
She always seemed cheerful when we saw her, and her letters were full of the child’s exploits and how happy she and Colin were. But reading between the lines, I knew they were finding it difficult to make ends meet. Nan’s last letter had mentioned how Isobel would be starting school after the summer, and that she’d be looking for work she could do in school hours.
That dark February evening is stuck in my mind. The rain was pelting down. We’d lit the fire in the front room, drawn the curtains and were just settling down to listen to Hancock’s Half Hour on the wireless when the phone rang.
‘Who the devil’s ringing us at this time of night?’ Father wanted to know. It wasn’t really late, but he hated to be interrupted during one of his favourite programs.
Mother was about to get up, but I said, ‘I’ll go,’ and made my way into the draughty hall. I was hoping it was a wrong number, and I could get back into the warmth of the front room soon.
I could barely hear my sister’s tearful voice. ‘It’s Col…’ Her voice broke and I strained to hear what she was saying, but could only hear crackling on the line.
My stomach contracted as I remembered how my brother-in-law had never been the same since returning from the war. What had happened now? My sister’s silence was frightening me.
‘Nan? Are you still there?’
There was some background noise, then I heard Nan’s voice again. ‘I’m at the hospital. There was an accident. He…’
‘Where’s Isobel?’ Nan must have thought me uncaring, but all I could think of was my beloved niece.
‘She… she’s with a neighbour. The doctors say… they don’t know… Oh, Izzy, what am I going to do?’
I pictured my sister and niece, all alone so far away, in what was to me, almost a foreign country, with Colin in hospital and no one to turn to. I spoke without thinking. ‘I’ll catch the first train in the morning. Is there anything you need?’ Even as I said it, I knew it was a daft thing to say. Nan was devastated. She needed her husband. She needed her family. ‘Will you be all right till I get there?’
‘I… I think so. I need to get home to Isobel, but…’ Her voice was flat.
I sensed her dilemma – a sick husband right there in the hospital and wee Isobel waiting at home, wondering where her mum and dad were.
‘Go home and try to get a good night’s sleep. There’s probably not much you can do there. How badly hurt is Col?’
‘I don’t know. They say he was crushed. He’s still unconscious. I’ve been sitting with him since I got here.’ Her voice broke again.
My throat ached. I didn’t know what to say. ‘I’ll be there tomorrow,’ I said again. I hung up and sat looking at the phone before returning to join the others.
‘You were a long time,’ Mother said.
‘Will you wheesht, woman,’ Father said. ‘I’m listening to this.’
Then they seemed to notice my sombre expression.
Mum started to rise, her ball of wool falling to the floor. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘That was our Nan. It’s Col…’
‘Oh, my. Turn that off, Geordie. Our Nan’s in trouble. Is it that lung disease?’
‘An accident, Nan said. I told her I’d catch the train in the morning. You’ll manage without me for the day, Kate?’ I turned to my sister, who nodded.
Mother looked flustered. ‘What happened? Do you think we should all go? Maybe…’
‘I don’t know any more. Nan was that upset. She could barely speak. Let me go on my own tomorrow. I can look after Isobel, see how things are and let you know.’
Reluctantly, they agreed, and Father turned up the sound of the wireless again, but I didn’t hear a word of the rest of the program. I was too busy thinking about Nan. This would never have happened if they’d stayed in Glasgow. And if Col had become ill here – and needed hospital – we’d all be able to support her, plus Col’s… Oh, heck! I’d forgotten all about Mrs. Davison, Colin’s mother. I wondered if Nan had called her too, if I should, if… It was all too hard and not my place. I rose. ‘I’m off to bed. I’ll have an early start tomorrow.’
*
When I peered out the window at the crack of dawn next morning, I saw that the rain had stopped, but there had been a frost overnight, leaving the roads and pavements glistening with icy slicks. There would be no running to catch the bus to the station this morning. I’d need to leave in plenty of time and tread carefully.
‘I made you some sandwiches for the trip.’ Mum nodded to the paper bag lying on the table as she dished up my porridge. ‘You’ll be needing something to keep you going. Get that down you for now. It’ll stick to your ribs.’
‘Thanks.’ Despite the seriousness of the day, I smiled at the familiar phrase. I’d eaten so much porridge in my life, my ribs must be well and truly packed with it. But I did enjoy it with lashings of salt and cream, and I’d only have the pack of sandwiches for lunch and heaven knows what when I finally got to Nan’s.
There was more than a hint of ice in the air and I could feel it bite my nose as I walked carefully to the bus stop, pleased to see a bus already on its way. At this time in the morning it was filled with men in their work overalls, with only a few smartly dressed women like myself.
Since we’d opened our shop, both Kate and I prided ourselves on dressing in fashion. This morning I was wearing my new black wool coat with the fur collar over my best tweed suit, and had pulled my black cloche hat down over my hair. Head bent, I burrowed my chin into the soft fur to protect myself from the piercing wind.
I reached St Enoch’s station just as my train was about to leave and managed to find an empty compartment. Sinking into the rough fabric seat with a sigh, I hoped Nan had managed to get some sleep. Last night I’d prayed for the first time in ages. I’d prayed for Colin’s recovery, for my sister and her bairn, and for my own future. I hadn’t given up hope of finding someone, even though I still harboured memories of one Clark Gable lookalike. I closed my eyes and must have dozed off, because when I opened them again the train was crossing the Forth Bridge, its red steel columns hurtling past the window.
Blinking to bring myself properly awake, I opened the sandwiches Mother had prepared and finished them just as the train pulled into Nan’s station. This time there was no Nan to meet me, and the wind seemed even sharper than the one I’d left in Glasgow as I fought my way to the bus stop.
The bus deposited me a couple of blocks from my sister’s house and, bending my head, I leaned into the breeze as I walked the now familiar last few yards to Nan’s house. My sister’s pallid face told me all I wanted to know. I drew her into a tight hug before shrugging off my coat and tossing my hat onto the table.
‘I rang the hospital from next door,’ Nan said, her eyes red and puffy. ‘They said there had been no change overnight. Oh, Izzy! What if… He didn’t look like my Col, lying there surrounded by tubes and bandages. It was as if he was already…’ Her chin trembled and her shoulders drooped.
‘Auntie Izzy.’
I turned to see my niece tugging at my skirt. ‘Oh, you wee darling!’ I picked her up only to discover how heavy she’d become, and pressed my face against hers. She struggled to get down again, and I let her slide to the floor, ‘Have you had anything to eat?’ I asked Nan.
‘I couldn’t stomach anything. Isobel had her breakfast and I made some tea.’ Nan looked around as if she wasn’t sure where she was. ‘I need to get to the hospital.’
A half-empty cup sat on the table alongside an empty bowl. ‘Sit down. I’ll make a fresh pot and you can tell me what happened. You need to keep up your strength. You’re no good to Col – or Isobel – if you get sick too.’ I filled the kettle and found some milk and a chocolate biscuit for my niece who was content to enjoy these before slipping off to work on a jigsaw puzzle. When the tea was masked, I made some toast to accompany it and sat opposite Nan.
‘Now tell me what happened.’
She slumped in her chair and rubbed at her eyes with a sodden hankie. ‘Col… he hasn’t been well all week – his lungs get bad in this weather. I wanted him to stay home, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I think he was worried they’d dock his pay if he was off sick again.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose, then paused and took a deep breath before continuing. ‘So he went in, and about four o’clock there was a knock at the door.’ She paused again and gazed into space as if reliving the moment. ‘It was Iain – one of his pals. He said there’d been an accident and I should get down to the pit right away. I didn’t even take off my pinny. Aggie next door came out to see what was up and offered to take Isobel in for a bit.’ She drew a deep breath again. ‘I went straight to the hospital with him, then I rang you.’
‘Was it a big accident? Were others hurt?’
‘No. Just my Col. They’d made him up to foreman. He was that proud. The shift was about over when what they call a sling chain connected to a drum shaft broke. It fell into a concrete drum pit and crushed him against a wall. I can’t bear to think about it; my Col lying there all crushed and bleeding.’
I went around the table and hugged my sister again, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. But I felt helpless. This was something I couldn’t fix. I didn’t even know what to say to her.
Nan struggled from my grasp. ‘I need to get going. Will you be okay with this one?’ She nodded towards Isobel who was still happily engrossed in her puzzle.
‘We’ll be fine. You take care of yourself, mind. Can you let me know if…’ I didn’t know whether I meant if Colin improved or if the worst happened, but Nan seemed to understand.
‘I can ring Aggie. She’s a good neighbour. Her Tommy’s down the pit too. She’ll pass it on if there’s anything…’ Her voice died away.
After fussing a bit Nan left, and I began tidying up. Clearly my sister hadn’t been herself since she heard the news. The sink was full of dishes, the beds unmade and the bedroom was a mess of clothes as if Nan had taken them all out of the wardrobe and thrown them down.
When I’d finished, it was time for lunch, and my niece wandered into the kitchen, her thumb in her mouth. ‘Mummy?’ she asked, her bottom lip trembling.
‘She’s with your daddy right now,’ I said. I picked Isobel up and hugged her, hoping my voice sounded cheerier than I felt. ‘I thought we might have some lunch, then go to the park.’
‘Oh yes!’
The promise of a trip to the park seemed to satisfy the wee one, so I busied myself checking the cupboards and, finding several tins of baked beans, decided beans on toast would make a good lunch for us. There had been no word from Nan, so I could only assume there was no change.
I had just donned my coat and beret again, and was helping Isobel into her warm coat and hat, when there was a knock at the door. Startled, I answered it to find a blonde woman a few years older than me, standing there in a wrap-around apron, her arms folded to keep herself warm. She seemed surprised to see me.
‘Oh! I was wondering if Nan wanted me to have the bairn for a bit again today. Is she not here?’
‘I’m her sister – Isobel. I came over from Glasgow this morning. Nan’s at the hospital. You’ll be Aggie?’
‘Aye.’ The woman looked past me to where Isobel was standing holding her woollen dog by one leg, her thumb in her mouth again. ‘It’s a terrible thing.’ She shook her head. ‘That pit has taken so many of our men. I hope…’
I didn’t wait to hear what she hoped or didn’t hope. ‘We’re just off to the park. Isobel likes the swings.’
‘That she does.’ Aggie seemed to realise I wasn’t one to gossip and turned away. ‘I’ll be away in, then. If…’
‘Nan said she’d ring you if there was any change,’ I said, remembering Nan’s words.
‘I’ll be sure to let you know if she does,’ she said, and walked away muttering about poor pit maintenance.
I had a nice time at the park with young Isobel, pushing her on the swings and even managing to laugh as she urged, ‘Up, up!’ But it soon began to turn dark and we headed for home. I wondered when Nan would get back and realised I wouldn’t get back to Glasgow that night, maybe not the next either. I’d stay as long as my sister needed me.
When we got to the house, there was a note on the door from Aggie. I knocked at her door, my heart in my mouth. Was there news?
This time the door was opened by a young lad of around sixteen. When he saw us he yelled, ‘Mum,’ then said, ‘Hello young one,’ to Isobel who seemed to know him. When Aggie came to the door, she ushered us inside and insisted we sit down at a table that was already set for their family meal.
‘Nan rang?’ I asked.
‘A few minutes ago. You just missed her. No change she said. She’ll be back late and wondered if you could stay. She said she’ll ring again later. If you have to get back, I can…’
‘No. I’ll stay. If I could maybe make a call to let our family know?’
‘Of course. The phone’s in the hall. Will you have a cup of something?’
‘Thanks.’ I dialled the familiar number and filled Mother in on my plans and Colin’s condition, then, leaving a few coins for the call on the hall table, went back to the kitchen where Isobel and the boy were playing tiddlywinks. She had her coat off and was looking quite at home as she pressed on the coloured discs trying to make them jump into the pot.
‘She’s fine with Donald. He likes the wee lass. You look as if you need a cup of tea.’ I took a seat, realising I hadn’t had a minute to relax since I got off the train. It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. I had no idea when Nan would return and Isobel had to be fed, bathed and put to bed. Although I’d visited several times and was familiar with my niece whom I loved like a daughter, I’d never had to take care of her, never been with her without Nan’s capable presence.
Over tea, I discovered Aggie was a non-stop talker. In a short space of time I learnt more than I wanted or needed to know about the perils of going down the pit. Aggie’s man had been there all his working life, but she wanted better things for their only son. ‘He’ll be taking his Highers,’ she said proudly. ‘Maybe we’ll even see him go to university. Such a shame about your sister’s man. It’s what we all dread happening, but it’s a living.’ She sighed.
I wondered how they could all exist that way, with the men risking death every day. Was it worth it? For the umpteenth time, I wished Nan and Col had stayed in Glasgow. They’d have been safe there. Though I guessed the lung disease Col had developed in the war would get him one day wherever they lived.
