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Authors: Margaret Thomson Davis

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BOOK: Double Danger
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The next day was a Saturday but Mrs Peterson assured Jessica that Douglas Brown would be there. So first thing next morning, she set off with the children. She was quickly caught up by Patrick, however. He appeared with a wheelbarrow, lifted the children into it and began racing with them down the road, much to their renewed hilarity. Jessica was finding it difficult to keep up with them and was glad (and breathless) when they reached Cruachan Road and Patrick waved goodbye to them. The schoolhouse was in Thorn Avenue, at the other side of the Green. It was a pretty cottage with a large extension containing a schoolroom, a kitchen with table and chairs, a toilet, and lots of deep cupboards which held maps and all sorts of teaching equipment.

Douglas Brown was a big man with hair as black as Brian’s but he hadn’t Brian’s wonderful tan.

He warmly welcomed the children and showed them, as well as Jessica, all around. He gave the children access to one cupboard full of toys and games while he spoke to Jessica.

‘I try to make the lessons as interesting and enjoyable as I can for all the children in my care,’ he told Jessica. ‘I have nature study, for instance, and we go out for walks to study the natural world around us. So it’s not just a case of the three Rs.’

‘I’m sure they’ll be very happy at your school,’ Jessica said. ‘And it’ll be all right if they eat their packed lunch here, will it?’

‘Of course. You’re living in Hilltop House, did you say?’

‘Yes, it’s a terrible long walk for them. That’s the only disadvantage.’

‘Don’t worry. I have a car. It’ll take me no time and it’ll be no trouble to drive the children home after school.’

‘That’s terribly kind of you. I’d really appreciate it, Mr Brown. Unfortunately, at the moment, a car couldn’t get up the road to the house. But I’ve a man working on it just now. It’ll be passable eventually. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.’

‘Well, rest assured, Mrs Anderson. Tommy and Fiona will be all right here. How about them getting here, though?’

She smiled. ‘The man I mentioned who’s working on the road is a bit of a joker. Patrick O’Rourke’s his name and he’s very good with the children. He wheeled them all the way down the hill in his wheelbarrow, much to their hilarity, as you can imagine. And the walk is good, healthy exercise for me.’

‘That’s fine then. So I’ll expect them on Monday morning.’

‘Yes.’

She collected the children and Douglas Brown showed them out.

‘I’m sorry I can’t help you home in any way just now,’ he said. ‘I’m meeting someone in Glasgow and I’m a bit late as it is.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry for keeping you back. Don’t worry about us. It’s a lovely day and we’ll just take our time. Probably we’ll meet up with Patrick again anyway.’

They waved goodbye and afterwards Jessica said to the children, ‘Did you like Mr Brown?’

‘Yes, he’s great,’ they cried out as they went skipping happily ahead of her. ‘Will Patrick be there to give us another ride in his barrow, Mummy?’

‘I expect so.’

Sure enough, they had only gone a few yards along the path when Patrick appeared, hoisted the twins into his wheelbarrow and started racing up the road. Jessica took her time. She told herself yet again that the exercise would be good for her. She wished all the same that she could have stayed with Mrs Mellors in the village until Brian arrived. Now she’d no choice. Once again, she thought with painful nostalgia of the flat in the Barras market. OK, Angus McDavie had desperately needed a place for him and his wife and family to live and the flat had been ideal for him, being so near his stall. Near enough too for his wife (pregnant yet again) and children to help him. Everyone had persuaded her, and the McDavies had pleaded with her to sell the flat to them. She had hung on to the flat for as long as she could, but realised eventually that it was a bit selfish of her to keep it lying empty.

As Mrs Mellors had said, ‘Their need is greater than yours, Jessie. You’ve got Hilltop House and once you eventually transform it into a hotel, it’ll be wonderful. Until then, you’ll always have a home with me if you want it. Why would you want to be living in a flat in the Calton on your own ever again?’

‘OK, OK,’ she’d capitulated and eventually Angus and his brood had bought the flat.

Thinking of Mrs Mellors so far away in Australia made tears well up in her eyes. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She’d just have to look forward to the time that Mrs Mellors would return. Much as she knew the older woman loved her son, she couldn’t imagine her leaving Scotland and especially her stall in the Barras for ever.

Hilltop House loomed up in front of Jessica – black against the blue of the sky. She experienced a sudden surge of hatred for the place. Struggling to control it, she told herself that once Brian was there and they began all the exciting plans they were going to put in motion, and he was sharing her bed, she’d feel differently about everything. As it was, despite being exhausted with all the walking she was doing, she hadn’t been able to sleep. She had lain in the darkness of the panelled room listening to creakings and squeaking and the sad howl of the wind.

She decided that if she suffered one more night of sleeplessness, she’d be forced to go to Dr Plockton for some sleeping pills. She didn’t relish having to put up with his ghastly mother again but she desperately needed the doctor’s help. Maybe Mrs Plockton wouldn’t be there. However, she’d heard that the awful woman was always there, interfering not only with the patients’ lives but also with the treatment the doctor was trying to give them. Sometimes he had to be very firm and then she’d cry out for anyone to hear:

‘Pinkie, Pinkie, you mustn’t bully your poor mother. You mustn’t let that red hair of yours give you such a bad temper. Naughty Pinkie …’

Not for the first time Jessica, and she was sure all of his patients, worried about him snapping altogether and murdering his mother. Nobody would blame him. Everyone felt like murdering her at some time or another. But they didn’t want him to end up in jail.

Yet again, Jessica suffered a long night of fearful wakefulness and was forced, once she left the children at school, to make her way along Thorn Avenue and round on to Abercromby Street. As usual, of course, it was Mrs Plockton who opened the door and ushered her inside.

‘Oh, my dear girl, are the little ones too much for you? You look so tired and pale and drained. Children can be so difficult. I know what it’s like with Pinkie …’

‘My children are not too much for me,’ Jessica interrupted firmly. ‘They attend school, enjoy being there and I’m happy for them. I came to see Dr Plockton on another matter.’

Just then, Dr Plockton’s surgery door opened and he ushered an elderly lady out.

‘Thank you so much for your help, doctor,’ the old lady said. Dr Plockton smiled as he gently took her arm and led her to the outside door.

‘Don’t forget to put that prescription into the chemist’s right away.’

‘Yes, I’ll go right now. Thanks again, doctor.’

Dr Plockton turned to Jessica. ‘Can I help you?’

Mrs Plockton said, ‘I was just saying to Mrs Anderson …’

‘Can I come in and speak to you, doctor?’ Jessica interrupted.

‘Yes, do come right in.’

‘I’ll bring you in a cup of tea, my dear,’ Mrs Plockton said.

‘No thank you,’ Jessica said firmly. ‘I do not want tea. I just want to speak to the doctor in private.’ She followed him in but not before she caught the flash of hatred that he aimed at his mother.

21

Jessica passed the time on most days while the children were at school by exploring the surrounding districts and reading up about their history. Lennoxtown used to have Lennox Castle, for instance. It was partly a general hospital, partly maternity, but mostly for people who were educationally subnormal, or what would be called nowadays people with learning difficulties. People in that part of the hospital usually remained there all of their lives. That’s where unmarried girls who had babies and who later had their babies taken away from them were confined for a lifetime.

The castle was now an empty ruin and apparently Celtic football team had a training ground nearby.

The Lennoxes of Lennox Castle were lineally descended from Duncan, the eighth Earl of Lennox of the old line. He was beheaded in Stirling when he was eighty years of age. His son-in-law Murdoch and Murdoch’s two sons were all executed on the same day.

Robert Burns knew what he was talking about when he wrote ‘Man’s inhumanity to man …’. All down the ages, there seem to have been the most appalling cruelties. In Scotland especially, there seemed to be some shocking excesses. Jessica had long ago read about Scotland being a hard-drinking country. She had in her reading, though, discovered that Robert Burns did not like to drink. Alcohol upset his stomach. It was a terrible problem to him how so many people wanted to raise too many glasses to toast his success. The problem arose when they pressed him to raise too many glasses as well. But he avoided it whenever possible.

It interested Jessica to find out that up till about 1832 the workers in Lennoxtown were paid on a Saturday in public houses in the village. A room was given to the foreman where he could divide out the wages and it was expected that everyone in the room would spend something ‘for the good of the house’.

It was this system that encouraged drinking to excess in Lennoxtown and probably in other Scottish places as well. A great many of the workmen spent too much of their hard-earned money before they left.

One man in the area, John Young, made a study of the geology of the Campsie area and formed a collection of its various rocks and fossils. As a result, Glasgow University put him in charge of the Hunterian Museum.

Jessica enjoyed finding out about all the places that were now part of her home area, as Glasgow had once been. A long time ago now, it seemed, she had enjoyed learning all about the history of Glasgow. She’d given Brian pleasure and interest in showing him around and telling him all about the different areas of Glasgow. Now she’d be able to do the same for him about the Campsie area.

She even took a notebook and a pen out with her to jot down some interesting facts in case she forgot them. More recent news to report to Brian was that the Campsie Glen area could be quite dangerous, and only the other day there had been an accident with a climber having to be rescued after falling down a gully. The Scottish Ambulance Service had been called out to help in the rescue and also a Navy Sea King helicopter. She found the days passed quickly and quite enjoyably. It was the nights in Hilltop House that she never could look forward to. The large gloomy bedroom depressed her, as did the four-poster bed with its drapes that gave off a peculiar fusty smell. It was the smell of age, Jessica thought. The whole place and everything in it was obviously ancient – except in the kitchen. As well as the oven next to the open coal fire, there was a modern cooker and also a microwave and a fridge freezer.

‘It was when Mr Nairn had people here for the shoots,’ Mrs Peterson explained. ‘There was such a lot of cooking to be done and so much food to be stored. Mr Nairn saw the need to bring in modern equipment to help me deal with it all. There was also a temporary woman engaged to help me. Much needed, I can tell you.’ Mrs Peterson shook her head, remembering sometimes there was such a large crowd of noisy, hungry men. ‘It was hard work, I can tell you. I was always glad when he was away abroad on shooting parties.’

Jessica decided not to speak about the hotel plan until she’d spoken more about it with Brian. She’d then be able to assure Mrs Peterson that there would be many more staff than just one temporary woman.

Jessica now sincerely appreciated Mrs Peterson and her obvious cooking talents and so did the twins. They thoroughly enjoyed the tasty tea and cakes Mrs Peterson always had ready for them after they arrived home from school. Then later at six o’clock, they all enjoyed a delicious dinner. Jessica was sure Brian would appreciate Mrs Peterson’s talents too and she longed for his return more and more each day. She was happy, though, collecting information and getting to know everything about the history of the area, which she was sure would add to Brian’s interest and enjoyment. She felt a thrill of excitement at how proud she could imagine he would be of her. (She was even beginning to think of writing pamphlets about the area to distribute to hotel guests.)

‘You were a wonderful tourist guide for me in Glasgow, darling,’ she could hear Brian saying. ‘Now you’re going to be an equally wonderful guide for the Campsie area. How on earth do you manage it?’

She missed Brian. She missed everything about him but especially his passionate love-making. It occurred to her then that it would be better to arrange for a couple of smaller beds for Fiona and Tommy while Brian was in the big bed with her. They could be put in another room but she felt it would be cruelty to banish them to one of the other huge rooms on their own.

She had a talk with Mrs Peterson about the beds and Mrs Peterson said it would be no problem.

‘Don’t worry, Mrs Anderson. There will be no problem in arranging that. We have several small old-fashioned truckle beds that can roll under the big bed during the day.’

Brian would also be delighted, Jessica was sure, about the improvements Patrick O’Rourke had already made on the grounds. She was interested to learn more about him too. There was much more to Patrick than just being a joker. She made a note to pass on to Brian a song she had heard Patrick sing to the children.

‘The kiss of the sun for pardon.

The song of the birds for mirth.

One is nearer God’s heart in a garden

Than anywhere else on earth.’

He had an obvious love of gardens and his work in them and there was a poetic side to his nature that she couldn’t help admiring. She often heard him say things to the children like, ‘Some flowers seem to smile; some have a sad expression.’

Some other remarks he made gave her pause for thought. ‘The most beautiful things in the world: peacocks and lilies, for instance.’

BOOK: Double Danger
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