Double Danger (4 page)

‘Smashing. Come on then, let’s get everything packed away.’

In no time at all, Jessica had collected her nightie and a few other things in her overnight bag and was perched beside Mrs Mellors in the van. Normally it would have been Jessica who would chatter all the way. This time she was unusually quiet and it was Mrs Mellors who did most of the talking.

Her cottage was facing the Lennoxtown road across from the Green. Surrounding the Green were a couple of shops, a hotel, a church and a block of flats.

‘Look back there, Jessie,’ Mrs Mellors said as she opened the door of her cottage. ‘See that block of flats. There’s a couple vacant in there. You could get one of them no problem. This is a great wee community. Everyone knows one another and we have great social get-togethers. You’d love it here.’

The word ‘love’ was like a dagger piercing Jessica’s heart. She had loved Brian Anderson, still loved him, and believed that she would always love him.

As if reading Jessica’s mind, Mrs Mellors said, ‘You’ll get over him, Jessie. You’ll meet other men just as handsome as him, you’ll see.’

‘Aye, sure,’ Jessica said sarcastically.

‘Of course you will.’ Mrs Mellors’ voice became impatient. ‘My God, you’d think you were the only one in the world that had fallen for somebody and then got dumped. It happens all the time and I did warn you. But it was so like you not to take a blind bit of notice of what I said. I told you you’d regret it.’

‘I don’t regret it.’

‘What have you got such a long face for then? You’re not your usual chirpy, cheeky self at all these days. Even the customers are noticing it.’

Jessica made a supreme effort. She tossed back her curly riot of hair and laughed. ‘I’ve caught one of those bugs that’s going about. I’ll be fine in a day or two.’

‘The flats are nice, aren’t they?’ Mrs Mellors led Jessica into one of her cheery, chintzy bedrooms. ‘Dump your bag on the chair just now and come on through to the kitchen. Help me make the tea. You can unpack later on. You set the table and I’ll heat up a nice steak pie I’ve got in the fridge.’

‘I don’t really feel like much. A cup of tea and a bit of toast would go down better, I think.’

‘Och, try a wee bit of the pie. It’ll put some strength into you.’

‘OK, OK. Anything you say.’

‘What do you think of the flats? We could have a look round one later on tonight if you want. Or tomorrow morning.’

‘Mrs Mellors, I’ve already got a flat. I think it’s great. I love it. You know fine I do.’

‘But Jessie, you’re on your own too much there now, and let’s face it – the Calton’s a pretty tough area. An innocent, trusting wee lassie like you wandering around on her own there isn’t such a good idea.’

‘You were born and bred in the Calton and I’ve never heard you say a word against it before.’

‘I know, but it’s not the place it used to be and you can be that reckless and stupid at times. I worry about you, Jessie.’

Suddenly Jessica pounced on the older woman, gave her an impulsive hug and showered her with kisses.

‘I love you for loving me.’

Mrs Mellors laughed. ‘That sounds like a song. Get off me, you daft stick. Set the table like I told you. And believe me, I’m glad of your company now that my family are away in Australia.’

‘Oh, I was forgetting about that.’ Jessica hugged the older woman even harder. ‘I do love you. I’m your adopted daughter, aren’t I?’

‘Aye, aye.’

After the meal Mrs Mellors insisted that they at least had a walk around the Green, had a closer look at the flats and then enjoyed a drink at the hotel.

In the bar was a crowd of people including a couple of men. Some of them worked in Glasgow. Some of them worked in the Barras. They kept backing Mrs Mellors up in trying to persuade Jessica to make the move to Vale of Lennox.

‘This is a great place,’ they said. ‘It’s really beautiful here. Look at the beautiful view of the Campsie Hills.’

Jessica couldn’t deny it. The grassy Green, the gardens, the trees and of course the hills rising high up beyond the village were indeed beautiful and peaceful. Too peaceful for her taste, though.

At long last, they returned to the cottage and to bed. Jessica didn’t sleep well and awoke in the morning feeling so sick that she barely made it to the bathroom. She was still violently retching when Mrs Mellors came hurrying through.

‘Jessie, Jessie.’ She put a comforting arm around Jessica’s shoulders. ‘I’ll phone for the doctor.’

‘No, no.’ The vomiting stopped and thankfully Jessica was able to straighten up.

‘Well, get dressed and come through and have a cup of tea and then I’ll walk you over to the doctor’s surgery. It’s just across Abercromby Street.’

‘Och, I don’t think …’

‘You’ll do as you’re told for once,’ Mrs Mellors interrupted.

And so they eventually walked arm-in-arm to the doctor’s surgery.

‘The surgery’s in his house,’ Mrs Mellors explained. ‘He lives there with his mother. She’s a right pain in the arse and fancy calling the poor guy Pinkie. Pinkie Plockton, she christened him, and he’s been suffering as a result ever since. He’s got red hair, which makes it worse. I can just imagine how the poor soul would be tormented at school.’

Dr Plockton had a rather shy but pleasant manner and after he examined Jessica, she and Mrs Mellors sat opposite him at his desk. It was then that he announced that Jessica was pregnant.

‘I knew this would happen,’ Mrs Mellors cried out. ‘I knew that bastard would be too selfish to use a contraceptive.’

‘I take it Jessica is your daughter,’ Pinkie Plockton said.

‘No, no, but I wish she was,’ Mrs Mellors said.

‘She’s like a mother to me,’ Jessica managed, but her mind was in a turmoil. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or frightened. She felt a bit of both. In one way, she felt glad that something of Brian was inside her and she would have a baby that she could always love as part of him.

In another way she felt frightened at her own ignorance. She hadn’t a clue how to look after a baby.

After they had left the doctor’s surgery, Mrs Mellors said, ‘The least that bastard can do is pay for the kid’s upkeep. Take some responsibility.’

Jessica bit her lip worriedly. ‘Do you think I should tell him then?’

‘Of course you should write and tell him. You’ve got his address, I hope.’

‘Yes, it’s this compound place in the desert. He told me where it was and all about it.’

‘Well, you’ll write to him right away, do you hear? Don’t let him get away with it.’

‘OK, OK.’ She sounded her usual cheeky self, quite sure of herself even. But inside was a different story. She tossed her hair and it bounced about as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

Inside she was so near to fainting she didn’t dare close her eyes.

The clinic in the Calton was there for drop-outs, tramps, prostitutes and any riff-raff who slept in the streets. They needed not only medical treatment but a change of clothes, a wash, a dose of methadone, or even a bowl or soup. They could get it all at the clinic. People donated bags of clothes. If there were decent suits in the bags, the clinic only gave out the trousers. ‘The suits are just for a funeral,’ they said. And when the suits were given out for funerals, it was just on loan. ‘You bring that good suit back,’ they were warned, ‘or you’ll never set foot in here again.’

Jessica had got to know one of the nurses, a young woman called Evie Jeffreys. Evie bought woollens from Mrs Mellors’ stall.

‘Nobody could get lovely hand-knitted goods like that anywhere else but in the Barras,’ she often said. She loved a walk around the market too. Jessica felt a lot in common with Evie as far as the Barras and the Calton in general were concerned. But she couldn’t have handled Evie’s job at the clinic and greatly admired her kindness and good humour in dealing with some of the worst dregs of humanity. She’d seen Evie giving a sympathetic hug to a down-and-out who stank so much of pee that Jessica, standing yards away, felt unbearably nauseated by it. Now she felt the need to talk to Evie about the problem with her pregnancy. Mrs Mellors kept calling it her ‘unwanted pregnancy’ and Jessica suspected that Mrs Mellors would be both pleased and relieved if she terminated it in some way. She wasn’t sure if she ought to let Brian know anything about it. She didn’t want him to think she was mercenary – just out for money.

She phoned Evie and asked if she could come and have a quick word and maybe get a bit of advice.

‘Sure,’ Evie said. ‘I’ll find a quiet spot for us.’

The waiting room and some of the corridors were packed with dossers who were drunk, by the sound of their slurred songs. Women too, young and old, drooping with hopelessness.

‘Along here.’ Evie led Jessica into a small area with shelves all around, filled with files and books.

‘What’s up?’ Evie asked.

Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘Remember that guy I told you about? The one from Saudi Arabia that I was crazy about? He’s away back and I’ve just discovered that I’m pregnant.’

‘Oh God.’

‘I’m still crazy about him but that’s neither here nor there because he obviously doesn’t feel the same way about me.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Well, he never said it to me in so many words. He’s away now. Saudi Arabia of all places. Mrs Mellors thinks I should write and tell him and ask for money but I’m not happy with that idea. I don’t want him to think I’ve just been after him for his money.’

Evie thought for a minute. ‘Well, I think he deserves to be told that you’re expecting his baby, Jessica. That’s only fair. I wouldn’t say anything about money. Just say you thought it right that he should know you’re expecting his child. You could even go further if you like and say that you’re looking forward to having the baby and you’ll always love and cherish it because you love him.’

‘Oh.’

‘That would be true, wouldn’t it?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Well then. I think it would be safer and wiser not to show the letter to Mrs Mellors, though. Just tell her you’ve posted a letter to him and leave it at that. She means well and just wants you to be OK. But I think it might be better just to do as I say this time.’

‘Oh Evie, thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Now I’d better get back to all the others needing my help and advice. A lot of good it’ll do them, though,’ she added sarcastically.

‘Oh Evie, I’m sure they couldn’t do without you. You’re marvellous to all of them. I just don’t know how you can survive working with people like that.’

‘It’s their survival that worries me, not mine, Jessica. Now away you go and write that letter.’

Still worried and uncertain in her mind, yet lighter in her heart, Jessica left the clinic. First she had to step over some people lying in the corridor before she could get out. The Calton was a world of its own, she thought, and it looked after its own. In the Calton, folk had always helped one another. Long ago one of its best-known residents, David Dale, was a successful importer of linen yarn which he gave out to all the weavers working at home. One day, he had arranged a dinner for the directors of the Royal Bank. But the Camlachie burn overflowed and flooded his kitchen. The good Calton folk from all around immediately got together to cook the food and save the day.

It was still the same now, Jessica thought. Mrs Mellors was desperately wanting to help her. She meant well but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was right. The more Jessica thought about Evie’s advice, the more she felt that was what she should do. At least she would be telling the truth and that in itself would be a relief. And it would show Brian that not only had she not been after his money, but she wasn’t the type of girl that just slept with anyone who happened to appear at Mrs Mellors’ stall. She loved him. That was all that had mattered and was all that mattered still.

As soon as she got back to her flat, she sat down and concentrated on writing an absolutely truthful letter, just as Evie had told her to. It stirred up emotions that she had been keeping in check and she wept over the paper. But she finished it and hurried to post it before her nerve failed her.

‘There, it’s done,’ she thought as it disappeared into the post box. Too late she realised that she should have sent it by airmail. It would have been quicker, but what did speed matter? He would get it eventually.

‘I’ll have to forget about it now,’ she thought. That was the main thing. She was lucky that Mrs Mellors would let her go on working at the stall as usual right up to the birth. And afterwards she could have the pram behind the stall and still work while she looked after the baby.

‘I’ll always be there to help all I can, Jessie,’ Mrs Mellors assured her. She still wanted Jessica to sell the flat above the market, of course, and buy one in Vale of Lennox. All right, Vale of Lennox was a lovely place and she already knew quite a few of the stall holders who lived there, so she would still be among friends. The market and the Calton were her life, however. She couldn’t imagine giving them up.

‘You’d still be working in the Barras every weekend just the same,’ Mrs Mellors insisted.

‘I know, I know. But it’s my flat and I’ve still all the memories of my mother and father there.’

Mrs Mellors rolled her eyes. ‘You shouldn’t cling to the past like that. It’s not natural and it’s not good for you, Jessie.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘I can’t help it. Maybe one day, I don’t know. But not now.’

Mrs Mellors began knitting baby clothes, not just for the stall but for Jessica as well. She refused to take any payment.

‘Would I charge my own daughter?’ she asked. ‘And I keep telling you you’re like a daughter to me. I couldn’t ask for a better wee lassie.’

Jessica didn’t feel so guilty when – partly due to her hard work and persuasiveness, as well as the good quality of the garments – the stall was doing extremely well. Mrs Mellors was in fact, as she said herself, making a fortune. Most of the stall holders made a very good living. Not everyone was as honest as Mrs Mellors, of course. There were also the men who sold stolen cigarettes and illegal DVDs. They went around shouting ‘Cheap fags and DVDs!’ if no policemen were around. If there were any police in the area, the men would go around whispering ‘Cheap fags and DVDs.’