The Girl with the Creel (25 page)

‘Well, you should ken!' Bella Jeannie was so incensed – as much at herself for being unable to think of anything better to say at what Elsie had just said – that she turned away and started down the stairs.

‘You dinna like being bested,' Elsie sneered, close behind her as she clumped down step by step. ‘But I'll tell you this, you great fat lump, it's me that's cock o' the walk here. If I asked my Peter to put you out, he wouldna think twice about it.'

Almost missing her footing on the second last tread, Bella Jeannie had to hold on to the banister to reach the lobby. She wanted to argue, to say it would be the other way round, but her heart was thumping in her mouth and she couldn't utter a word.

Pressing home her advantage, Elsie taunted, ‘He doesna care a docken for you now he's got me, but you needna worry. I'll nae be asking him to put you out, though once we shift into our ain hoose, he'll never come back here to see you.'

In an effort to calm herself when they went into the kitchen, Bella Jeannie flopped awkwardly down on one of the armchairs but, misjudging her distance from it, she landed on the edge of the seat. Her sixteen stone weight made the back legs shoot up in the air and she was pitched forward, unfortunately striking her head on the corner of the table with full force before she hit the floor.

Elsie had been grinning at her enemy's humiliation, but when she saw the blood spurting from the woman's temple she rushed to help her up; it proved impossible to lift her. She stood for some minutes wondering what to do, while the dark red pool on the floor grew larger and larger. At last, forgetting her deshabille, she ran screaming out of the house and narrowly missed bumping into a tall youth going past with his father. ‘Help me! Help me!' she begged.

‘What's up, lass?' the man asked, taking her arm.

Recognizing him, she cried, ‘Tom, Bella Jeannie's had an accident!'

They helped her back inside, and when Tom Fyfe saw the old woman, he exclaimed, ‘God Almighty! She's been bleeding like a stuck pig!' He knelt down and felt for a pulse, then looked up at Elsie. ‘She's gone.'

‘Oh, God!' she moaned. ‘That's what I was feared for.'

Having often heard the two women arguing when he'd passed the house, he asked, a little sharply, ‘How did it happen?'

‘She missed the seat and … fell on the corner of the table. What'll I do, Tom?'

Her explanation held the ring of truth, and fitted in with the gouge he could see on the old woman's head. ‘The first thing would be to get the doctor,' he said gently. ‘And somebody'll have to tell Peter. Look lass, I was going up the town any road, so …'

‘Don't leave me here myself,' she wailed.

‘No, no, I'll leave Lenny wi' you. I've some other things to do, so Peter'll likely be here before I get back.'

When Tom went out Elsie started to shake again and, not knowing what else to do, fifteen-year-old Lenny put his arms round her and held her close. ‘It's all right,' he murmured, patting her shoulder.

Young as he was, her uncorseted body excited him, and he soon let her go, his smooth face red with embarrassment, but she was still too shocked to notice.

It was much later, all the formalities having been carried out and the funeral arranged, and lying in bed with a husband too upset to give her the loving she needed, before Elsie recalled the scene and realized that Lenny had been aroused by holding her. Her dulled spirits lifted. With Bella Jeannie gone, she would be lonely when Peter was out at work, and she was sure Lenny Fyfe wouldn't refuse if she asked him in to keep her company now and again. He was a good-looking laddie, with dark hair and skin to match, and Peter was asking for it, for he had never once told her he loved her and only made love when she set herself out to fire him with her body – sometimes not even then. Besides, it would be great fun to show the virgin Lenny the facts of life.

Another six months had passed, and Lizann was sitting at her fireside waiting for her aunt's nightly visit. After that one rally, when Hannah had disposed of Willie Alec's clothes, Lou said she had gone back into her shell and wouldn't speak about him or her daughter. All her reports since then had been the same, and Lizann was convinced that she would never see her mother again.

Glancing at the clock, she started in surprise. Lou usually came about ten to seven, and it was after eight already. What had happened that she was so late? Lizann got to her feet meaning to go and find out, but her aunt walked in at that moment, her eyes snapping with excitement.

‘I've ran near all the road,' she puffed, ‘for I'm dying to tell you.'

Lizann sat down, her heart palpitating at the thought of hearing good news for a change. ‘Has Mother …?' she began, hopefully.

‘I was coming away,' Lou interrupted, ‘and she come to the door wi' me and Peter Tait was going past and he says, proud as a peacock, “Would you ladies like to come and see my son? He was six weeks old on Monday.” I didna think she'd go, she hasna been outside the door since your Da died, but she says, “Let me put on my coat,” and then he took her arm for she was a bittie wobbly, and oh, Lizann, what a bonnie bairn it is. Peter, after him, though they're calling him Pattie to save a mix-up.'

‘I'm pleased for him. It'll make up for losing his mother, but it's a shame Bella Jeannie didn't live to see her grandson.'

Lou gave her a peculiar look, but went on, ‘If Bella Jeannie was alive she'd die o' shock if she saw her house the day. She never bothered much about herself, but she aye kept her house clean and tidy.'

‘It must be difficult when there's a baby,' Lizann pointed out.

‘It wasna just untidy, it was … filthy! And that madam sitting wi' a fag at the corner o' her mouth, and her hair bleached, and that much lipstick on she looked like she'd cut her face. Oh, Lizann, you've nae idea! And you could see right through her goonie!'

Thankful that her aunt couldn't see the filmy night-dresses she wore, Lizann said, ‘She hadn't been expecting visitors so late.'

‘It was only suppertime, so it had been for Peter, and him turning turkey red at the sight o' her. I'm sure he could hardly wait for us to leave so he could put another bairn inside her.'

‘Ach, you're imagining things, Auntie Lou.'

‘Your mother said the same when we came out. But she was fair taken wi' the infant, and I thought … if you and George was to …'

‘You think a grandchild would stop her hating us?'

‘There's only one road to find out,' Lou grinned, ‘and it wouldna be ony hardship to you, would it?'

Colouring, Lizann said, ‘I don't think George wants a baby yet.'

‘Keep at him, Lizann. Doll yourself up like that Elsie, that'll put him in the mood. I wish I'd persevered wi' my Jockie, but he wasna that way inclined, worse luck. He liked his sleep ower much, still does, the lazy devil.' Lou gave a deep sigh. ‘Hannah didna ken how lucky she was wi' Willie Alec, for he wasna like that. I shouldna be telling you this, but I used to fancy him myself, and me wed on Jockie by the time him and Hannah was courting. Well, well, I'd best be off.'

Her aunt left Lizann something to think about. Would a grandchild make her mother change her attitude? Surely it was worth trying?

Smoothing her skin-tight jumper over her breasts, Elsie looked at her reflection in the wardrobe mirror. Her figure was nearly back to what it used to be, and here she was, away again. She'd hated her body when she was carrying Pattie, though Peter had loved running his hands over her belly and waiting for the infant to move. That had always got her going, though nothing she did had made him touch her anywhere else, which is why Lenny Fyfe had been such a godsend. He was serving his time as a baker now, working from two in the morning till ten, and she'd caught him on his way home the first time. He'd been shy and embarrassed that day, but he'd learnt real quick. He'd been so hot for her, he'd come in every forenoon for a week and she'd had to tell him folk would start speaking if they saw him. So he'd made it Tuesdays and Thursdays till she grew too big, and he'd stopped till after Pattie was born. And now, with a second damned bairn on the road, she'd only have about four or five more months with him.

If Peter would just kittle himself up a bit, take her every night like he used to, she wouldn't need anybody else, but he still hadn't got over his mother's death. She hadn't told him about the fight she'd had with the old bitch, though. She'd told him the same as she told Tom Fyfe and she hadn't needed to pretend to be shocked; she'd never been so shaken in all her life.

The wailing of her son brought Elsie's musings to an abrupt stop, and she turned round impatiently to pick him up and give him his bottle.

As always, Peter took a look at his son as soon as he went in from work. ‘He's the bonniest baby I've ever seen,' he beamed.

Elsie rushed across to kiss him. ‘Hannah Jappy must think that, and all, for she was in again the day to see him.'

Peter had a feeling that there was more to Hannah's interest than met the eye. If Lizann hadn't married George Buchan, Pattie might have been Hannah's grandson, and that could be how she thought of him. Once again, the old aching for his lost love pulled at him, and he tried to keep his voice steady as he said, ‘Poor Hannah, she must be lonely.'

Ladling soup into a big plate, Elsie said, ‘If she's needing a bairn to look after, she can have this next one for all I care.'

‘Next one? You're not expecting again, are you? Already?'

‘It's your fault!'

‘It takes two.' He was angry at himself as much as at her. He should be able to withstand the temptation of her curves. He did, occasionally, but there were times when they drove him frantic with desire.

‘If you're too proud to buy French letters,' she was sneering, ‘I'll have to get something, for I've no intentions of calving every year.'

Shocked at her choice of word, Peter gave a nervous smile. ‘We needn't worry now till after you've had this one.'

‘Hannah was saying you and her Lizann was engaged at one time.'

‘Not for long. I broke it off.'

‘That's not what Hannah said.'

‘She's blethering,' Peter burst out, feeling guilty at the lie. ‘She's been turned in the head since Willie Alec died.'

‘I'd like to know why she put Lizann out.'

‘It was nothing to do with me!' At least that was the truth, Peter told himself, though he had often wondered about it himself. Mick had just shrugged when he asked, as if he didn't know either.

Elsie couldn't let the subject drop. ‘Did her and you ever …?'

‘I never touched Lizann, if that's what you're getting at.' That, too, was the truth. ‘You're not jealous of her?'

Elsie gave a scornful laugh. ‘Jealous? What needs I be jealous, when you come straight home from the yard every night and never go out again?'

Mick having once casually referred to Lizann being at Freuchny Road, Peter had often thought of going to see her on his way home – George Buchan was only there at the weekends – but he was thankful now that he hadn't given in to his longing to know how she was. Elsie would have torn him limb from limb if she'd found out.

Sitting on George's knee at the fireside, Lizann murmured, ‘Lou thinks we should have a baby.'

‘Does she now? And what business is it of hers?' But he was smiling.

‘She thinks a grandchild would make my mother come round to us.'

‘We're happy enough the way we are, aren't we?'

‘I'm happy when you're at home,' she assured him. ‘It's just, when I'm on my own, I often wish I could go to see her.'

His face sobered. ‘Maybe you should, it's … how long now? Ten months? I'll go with you the morrow, if you want.'

‘I'd rather go myself the first time. I'll wait till you're away.'

‘Suit yourself, but I'll tell you this, Lizann, when I want to make a baby it'll be for us, not your mother. I want to enjoy you for a while longer without an infant coming between us.'

She wished he hadn't added the last bit, but had to admit that it was good having him all to herself. She turned round and kissed him. ‘I love you, George.'

‘And I love you. If I ever lost you, I wouldn't want to live.'

‘Life's got to go on, whatever happens,' she whispered, thinking of her mother, ‘but if I lost you … the night the
Hannah
went down …'

‘Forget about that, my darling. Lightning never strikes twice in the same place, and my turn's past.' He was about to pick her up and carry her through to bed when someone knocked on the door. ‘Damn!' he growled, as she stood up. ‘Who on earth could that be?'

‘It's either Mick or Auntie Lou,' she said, making sure that her skirt was straight before she answered the summons.

It was her brother and his girlfriend. ‘We haven't come at a bad time, have we?' he grinned.

Conscious of her mussed hair and hot cheeks, Lizann glanced at Jenny, who always looked as if she'd stepped out of a bandbox. Her beautiful chestnut tresses were swept up on top of her head, with not one single strand out of place … but her grey eyes were apologetic. ‘No,' Lizann said hastily. ‘We were just sitting speaking …'

‘Canoodling, more like,' Mick teased.

George grinned. ‘Sit down, we've all our lives to canoodle.'

‘Is anything wrong with Mother?' Lizann asked, anxiously.

‘No, she's still the same,' Mick told her. ‘Some days you'd think she was back to normal, then the next day she's looking out of the window for Father coming along the road.'

‘Do you know if she's eating properly?'

‘When I'm there she does, and she says Lou makes her suppers when I'm away, though she likely doesn't cook anything for her dinners. But Jenny often takes her in something.'