Fortunes of the Heart (16 page)

Kate, who had at once noticed the immediate trembling of
Jenny’s lower lip, hurried to say: “Oh, Pearce, please do come with us, it
would be so nice, just the three of us off on our own for once in a lifetime.
Please. Please say you’ll come. Anyway, apart from anything else, it makes it
rather look as if you don’t trust Daniel.”

Kate’s observation struck home. With an impatient wave of
his hand, Pearce indicated that the matter was resolved. But even so, just
before setting out with Jenny and his wife for the Children’s Corner, he turned
to his son.

“One last thing, Daniel, my boy. You see that rowing boat of
Mrs Graham’s? I believe I’ve already warned you on that subject. Well, you
leave that strictly alone, boy. Do you hear? Is that fully understood? Fully
understood, I repeat. That boat or indeed any unattended boat is strictly out
of bounds as far as you and your sisters are concerned. Is that crystal clear?”

Daniel, greatly daring, cleared his throat.

“Dadda, a moment ago you thought of staying behind here with
Hannah, Isabella, and myself. Would you not change your mind and perhaps even
take us all out in the boat yourself? That would be a real treat for us. Would
you do that for us Dadda?”

Pearce’s reply snapped back immediately.

“No, Daniel, even if I were to remain with you, I would most
certainly not be messing about in any boat with you crew. In fact, were I to
stay, I’d be sitting against the sea wall with my book of poetry. Merely
keeping an eye on you. So, you can disabuse yourself of any idea of my setting
out to sea with you lot.”

At these words so harshly and thoughtlessly spoken, even
Kate felt affronted. And so closely attuned was she to her dear Danny Boy that
she could almost guess at the thoughts going through his head right at that
moment.

The look on the boy’s face spoke volumes:

Father, could you not just once in your life give into my
wishes. I’ve heard you boasting to neighbours, yes, and even to Mrs Graham
about what a fine oarsman you were in your youth. Well, why not take me out in
the wee boat and show me how it should be done. Surely that wouldn’t kill you,
now would it?

Right. If that’s the way you want it. Then strangers is what
we’ll be. Never again in my life will I ask you for anything. No, in future, no
matter what happens, I wouldn’t even give you the time of day, far less my
friendship, love, or even a scrap of respect. As of now, father, you’re a big
round nothing in my life – at least until the day comes that I get my revenge.
Meantime, father, thanks for nothing as usual.

Chapter
27

For Jenny and her parents, their morning at the Children’s
Corner had been a great success. Despite the many other excellent entries,
Jenny’s creation, a handkerchief
beflagged
sand
castle with its own shell-edged moat, had won first prize in the girls’
section. The three of them strolled along in the sunshine, her mother and
father arm-in-arm, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the crowded
promenade, where excited children dashed about, dogs barked, seagulls squawked
overhead, and the smell of seaweed wafted over the rocks.

Jenny clutched to her bosom her hard-won prize for the
competition. Every so often, she would look at her prize, convinced she was the
envy of every other girl in the whole Island of Bute on that lovely summer’s
day. Her first prize had taken the form of a beautifully-dressed china doll,
with whose sweet face Jenny had already fallen in love. Catching her daughter’s
look of pride, Kate nudged her husband.

“My word, Pearce. But isn’t that a lovely doll? And wasn’t
our Jenny a clever wee lass to win it all by herself’?”

In a rare good humour, and always one for success of
whatever nature, Pearce beamed down at his ten year-old daughter.

“Clever, did you say, Mother? Yes, indeed. I’m sure she’s
the smartest girl in the whole of Rothesay.”

They all laughed and in high glee, and Jenny went skipping
along the promenade ahead of them.

Arriving at the Bathing Station, she stopped to peer through
the railings at the busy scene below on the shore. She was pushing her head
further forward when there was a warning shout from her mother.

“Jenny lass. Take care. Mind you don’t fall through. Still
keeping a firm hold on her already-precious dolly, Jenny drew back from her
precarious situation.

“I know what, Mother. If it’s adventure young Jenny wants,
let’s all go for a wander in the forest – in
Skeoch
Woods. You’d like that now Jenny, wouldn’t you? And who knows? We might even
meet some little elves and fairy folk. You never know.”

Kate laughed, but looked uncertain.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back to the others? It’s already
past noon and Mrs Graham will be sure to have our meal on the table on the very
dot of one o’clock. You know fine what she’s like. Anyway, the other three will
be looking out for us. We did promise to be back by twelve o’clock, didn’t we?”

Pearce frowned then, waiving aside all of Kate’s objections,
he took Jenny by the hand.

“Nonsense, Kate. We’re on holiday, woman. No need for us to
be running to a time-table. Plenty of time for a spot of adventure in the
enchanted forest. Anyway, the fairy-folk are good friends of mine from my
boyhood days in Ireland. They’ll simply wave a magic wand and get us back in
lots of time. So, no rush at all. Let’s go.”

When finally the three happy holidaymakers emerged tired but
triumphant from the dense woods, they were still laughing and joking together
as at no other time in their past family life.

Removing his pocket watch, Pearce studied it then, in voice
of mock alarm, said: “Ten minutes till mealtime. Looks like my fairy friends let
me down after all. Come on then, you two, best hurry along – or Mrs Graham will
indeed read us all the Riot Act.”

Again they laughed even more heartily than ever when Dadda
broke into an anxious exaggerated and hurried turkey-trot. All this while, Kate
mentally hugged her happiness to her heart.

`Oh, why can’t life always be like this? This is wonderful.
Never before have I seen Pearce so relaxed. What a great holiday. And a cottage
to see about on Monday. Oh, dear God, thank you. What have I ever done to
deserve such happiness?’

As they were nearing their boarding-house, Jenny noticed a
crowd of people congregated over near Mrs Graham’s own stretch of shore. She
tugged excitedly at Dadda’s hand.

“Oh, look, Dadda. Is it another sand castle competition, do ye
think? Can we go and look at it?”

Pearce smiled fondly at his daughter.

“Well, my dear, I should say it’s highly unlikely to be
another competition. Not over there, anyway. And, no, I don’t think we’ve got
time to take a look at this stage. After all, dear Mrs Graham will be dishing
out the mince and tatties any minute now, as your Mammy pointed out earlier. It
really isn’t fair to keep the poor woman waiting. You know how delicious the
food is, always piping hot, and she does take such a pride in it.”

But Jenny looked so crestfallen that her Dadda laughed and,
quite unlike his usual brusque city manner, he once again acted the carefree
holiday-maker and relented without further ado.

“Well then, Jenny, if it means all that much to you, perhaps
another couple of minutes won’t make all that much difference to the scheme of
things. Over we go. Who knows, perhaps someone has caught a giant fish, or even
a whale like Jonah. Now wouldn’t that be something to tell your friends back in
the
Candleriggs
?”

The trio crossed the road and joined the outer edge of the
visibly excited, shuffling, yet strangely quiet crowd of people. When, after a
couple of seconds, they could still see nothing of any interest, Pearce turned
to another bystander.

“What’s going on, sir? Why the crowd? Damned if I can see
anything.”

The other man turned to his questioner.

“I suppose the excitement, if that’s what you could call
it,” he said quietly, “is all over, bar the shouting, as they say in these
parts. The other one is being tended up yonder in the big hoose the noo. But,
the other poor wee bairn ... weel ... I’m afraid it’s ...”

The man shook his head sadly, as if words were beyond him.

Pearce’s face went ashen, despite his fine Rothesay tan. He
grabbed the man roughly by his sleeve.

“What other one? What other poor wee bairn? What in God’s
name are you talking about, man?”

The man shook off Pearce’s hand, and shrugged his shoulders.

At that point, another bystander, obviously still buoyed up
by the excitement of the occasion and eager to get his sixpence worth in, leant
forward.

“Aye, man. Ah seen the whole bloody business. It was two
weans – some o thae holiday kids, city slickers most like never even seen a
boat aw their life afore. Weel, man, Ah’m telling you, it was ...”

Pearce grabbed this long-winded witness by his jacket
lapels, and shouted hysterically at the man.

“For God’s sake. What exactly did you see? Quick. Tell me,
for the love of God.”

The man angrily shook himself free of Pearce’s grip. “All
right, man. Keep yer
hauns
to tae yersel’. Ah’ll tell
ye aw ye want tae know.”

Pearce stepped back.

“It
wis
twa
weans in a boat. A lad and a lassie. The lassie stood up and
widnae
sit doon
tho
the laddie
shouted at her. Wan o’ the steamers
wis
jist
comin
intae
the pier and ye ken
the kind o’ wash they make. The laddie either
didnae
ken tae turn his row boat bow on tae the waves or maybe he
wis
too busy trying tae get the lassie tae sit, but anyway the bout
couped
o’er and they
baith
fell
in. Some others, once the waves died, rowed like hell fur the upturned boat,
but they only found one bairn
hangin
’ on tae it.

“Which bairn?” Pearce shouted.

“Ah dinnae ken, but they’re still
lookin
fur the other yin.

Kate didn’t wait for anything further. With a scream, she
ran over the road towards the house, with Pearce and Jenny in hot pursuit.

The sight they saw on entering Mrs Graham’s kitchen froze
them to the spot.

Hannah sat on one side of the fireplace placidly munching on
a biscuit.

On the other side, wrapped in a blanket, Daniel, with a
hangdog expression, held a mug of steaming liquid in a trembling hand.

As if frozen to the spot, Kate and Pearce stood still as
statues as they took in this tableau. Kate was the first to recover her
composure. She dashed over to her son and threw her arms protectively around
the trembling child.

“Oh my wee darling, Danny. Poor wee soul. Thank God, at
least you’re safe. Thank God.”

The only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the
grandfather clock as Kate rocked her son to and fro in an ecstasy of relief.

Pearce, with a yell like a wounded animal, shattered the
silence. Roaring like an angry bull, Pearce took a step over to his wife and,
in one furious movement, wrenched her away from her so recently rescued son.

Like one demented, he roared at her: “Thank God, did ye say,
woman? Thank God? For what? That He left that alive....” he gestured at Hannah,
“that useless lump of fat ... that imbecile ... that bloody fuckin’ cretin ...
and took away my lovely Isabella. Is that what you’re thanking God for? Christ
Almighty.”

There was a shocked intake of breath from Mrs Graham.

“Mister Kinnon, sir. I will not have language like that. Not
in this Christian household. Of course, sir, fine weel Ah ken ye’ve had a
terrible, truly horrific shock, otherwise at the very first hint of such foul
language, ye would have been oot o’ that door wi’ yer bags and baggage. Aye.
and quicker than ye could say Jock
Tamson’s
bairns.”

Pearce rounded on the hapless woman.

“I’ll thank you to keep your stupid mouth shut madam. The
loss is mine, not yours. That being so, I’ll say exactly what I like, when I
like and to whom I wish. Is that perfectly clear, madam?”

After having first cast a warm and sympathetic glance at a
still-weeping Kate, Mrs Graham turned to face Pearce.

“Mister Kinnon, if you please, one thing does seem to have
escaped your notice: the loss is not yours alone. What about your poor, dear,
wee wife? And not forgetting your other weans. Surely they too are grieving
sore enough without hearing you blaspheming and cursing and swearing like some
drunken lout. If you can’t show any common decency in ma ain hoose, at least
spare a kind thought and maybe even a wee cuddle for yer poor bereaved family
in their sad loss. Surely that’s not too much to ask o’ ye, noo is it?”

“Madam,” Pearce said in his most regal voice. “What concerns
my wife and my weans as you call them is my concern, not yours. Anyway, one
thing is certain. We will be out of here before nightfall, that I do assure
you. So you’ve no further call for worry. Do I make myself clear?”

“Very well, Mister Kinnon, that’s as you wish. But never let
it be said I put you out into the street. Anyway, in the sad circumstances, I
will not, of course, be rendering any account. I feel it’s the least I can do.”

Pearce’s face suffused with colour.

“Thank you, but no, Madam, I would have you aware that the
Kinnons have always paid their debts – of whatever nature.”

With these words, he cast a bitter look at Kate, who at once
caught his unspoken meaning and went into a further paroxysm of uncontrolled
weeping. If anything, this served only to further infuriate Pearce, especially
when his son, Daniel, rose somewhat unsteadily from his seat and went over to
offer his dear mother what little comfort he could.