The Sunday Girls (11 page)

It was Hogmanay and I was excited. Danny and Maddie were meeting me later that evening and we planned to see the New Year in together at the city square.

One spot of worry was Dad. I could never find him at home on any of my many visits to the Hilltown and now, on this last day of the year, he suddenly appeared at the Overgate around teatime.

Granny, who had also been irritated by his thoughtless and strange behaviour, now looked with annoyance at him as he sat looking ill at ease in her kitchen. She spoke bluntly. ‘I thought you would want to see more of your family, Johnny, instead of less.’

I felt a bit sorry for him. Although never plump, he had now lost so much weight that his old trousers clung to his thin legs and a threadbare jacket hung limply from his shoulders. A thick woolly scarf covered his scrawny neck. Still, he had taken the time to shave which was a slight improvement on his gaunt, stubbled appearance at the funeral.

He looked at Granny, his eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I’ll be as right as rain in a wee while and then Ann and Lily can come back and live at home. I don’t expect you to look after them forever.’

Granny held up her hands and looked embarrassed. ‘It’s not that Johnny.’

He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him. ‘As I said, it’s not that. It’s just that the lassies have lost their mother and they need you more than ever. We know you’re still grieving for Lily but we are as well. Ann has tried to see you lots of times but you’re never in the house.’

‘Aye, you’re right,’ he said sadly, putting his empty soup bowl by the side of the sink before pouring out a cup of strong black tea. Then he gazed at us with a cheerful expression. ‘Never mind, it’ll soon be a brand-new year and things will get better – I promise.’

In spite of his cheery remark I couldn’t help noticing a tinge of hopelessness in his voice. Still the good news about my job pleased him and his face became alive with eagerness at my good fortune. ‘As I said, Ann, things will be much better next year. You wait and see.’

Then suddenly, out of the blue, Rosie spoilt the moment by appearing from next door. She was one disgruntled lady. ‘Well, I’m glad to see you at last, Johnny. I’ve asked you over and over again about getting Lily christened and I can arrange it at the Citadel.’

This was news to me as I didn’t know she had been successful in even seeing Dad, let alone discussing Lily’s Christian upbringing with him.

His face turned a deep pink, the flush spreading up from the woolly scarf to his hairline. He stared at her. It was a look I misunderstood and what I though was guilt turned out to be anger.

‘Look, Rosie, I don’t want to discuss it. If I choose to have Lily christened, then it’ll be in my own good time and not before.’ His voice was hard and he made it clear the matter was now closed.

Rosie however was like a hungry mongrel dog with a juicy marrowbone. ‘Well, your mum thinks the baby should be christened. Isn’t that right, Nan?’ She looked at Granny with her soft brown-eyed gaze and Granny nodded slightly.

Dad’s cheeks now turned a bright dark red and his eyes were stormy. ‘Well, she’s not getting done and that’s final.’ He pointed an accusing finger at Rosie while inclining his head in Granny’s direction. ‘My mother doesn’t give a toss about a christening. It’s just you and your religious mania. What I would like to know is this – where was this ever-loving God of yours when my wife died? Tell me that. Just keep your views to yourself, Rosie, and don’t turn us into Salvationists.’

He grabbed his cap, jammed it on his head and hurried through the door. Meanwhile Rosie looked as if she was about to burst into tears and I was shocked by his outburst.

As usual, Granny saved the situation. ‘He didn’t mean it, Rosie. Grief has to come out in the open sometime – one way or another. His anger is just his way of coping with it. Let the issue of Lily drop for the time being and I’ll work on it.’

Rosie took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. ‘I was just trying to help, Nan, but it looks like I’m the last person he needs.’

I felt so sorry for her as she headed sadly out the door. I now realised how deeply she cared for him while getting precious little thanks for all her trouble.

I was also puzzled about her remarks. ‘Granny, has Rosie seen Dad like she says? Every time I go to the Hilltown, he’s never there. Even Rita and Nellie never see him.’

I thought about our old neighbours – two women who also had enough on their plates. They had enough problems with money and the never-ending struggle to make ends meet without the added worry of looking out for Dad – especially when he had rejected all their offers of help.

Granny looked evasive. ‘Well, I think she goes to the Hilltown quite a lot with the Salvation Army – especially at night – and she sees him with his cronies.’

It was an inadequate answer but I let it drop. I had quite a bit of housework to finish before my exciting adventure into the town at midnight.

Danny was working until ten o’clock with his deliveries and then he had to pick Maddie up at the Perth Road. Mrs Pringle wasn’t happy about letting her out so late but Maddie had a way of getting round her parents in a manner that was an eye-opener to me.

‘She could charm the devil himself,’ was one of Hattie’s favourite sayings but the fact that Danny was acting as her chaperone had clinched the deal.

I was waiting on the pavement when they appeared and by eleven thirty we were finally in place at the far end of the High Street, almost in front of the Town House or the Pillars as it was better known as.

The crowd was growing by the minute, milling around the many barrows that were dotted about the street. These barrows were piled high with fancy hats, loud hooters and the favourite first-foot present – the dressed herrings. These were gaudily wrapped in bright, multicoloured crêpe paper frills. The vendors were doing a brisk trade as good-natured customers jostled forward with their purchases into the seething mass. The air hummed with hundreds of voices. The conversations mingled with shrieks of laughter and the high-pitched sounds from the hooters and whistles. Also, from the far edge of the crowd, the sound of noisy singing erupted.

Rain had fallen earlier but it was now dry although still very cold. Maddie had a fashionable fur hat perched on top of her curls – a hat that made my old woollen headsquare look really frumpish and I was grateful for the darkness. It at least hid my tatty old clothes and put me on the same level as Maddie. This was merely superficial because I knew her clothes were as fashionable as the hat and should some spotlight appear in the darkness, well, I would be shown up for my frumpy look.

Danny was also taken by her pretty headgear. ‘Better hold tight to your hat, Maddie, or somebody might pinch it.’

A group of young women who looked like millworkers stood beside us. They had thick shawls around their shoulders and were lamenting about the threatened demise of the Town House, a demise that had now firmly begun with a partially demolished steeple lying as silent witness to the town planners’ dastardly scheme.

This was a source of much chagrin amongst the population at large and the Overgate residents in particular. ‘They’ve got a bloody cheek knocking the Town House down,’ said one of the women while her companions nodded vigorously in agreement.

‘When they knock it down what will happen to the shops? Where will the tramcar drivers go to shelter from the rain? It’s a grand place to huddle when it’s raining,’ said one of the women who had prominent teeth that were chattering in the cold.

We all felt the same about these shops that lay in a row under the arches or pillars. It was a sheltered spot for lots of people in wet weather. This fine William Adams building was now being demolished and the Dundee populace were not happy about it.

‘We better watch our heads,’ said Miss Prominent Teeth. ‘Stones have been falling and almost hitting folk.’ She laughed. ‘Mind you, with the state of some of these folk tonight who are the worse of drink, a stone falling on their heads will not be felt – at least not till the morn.’

Then suddenly the crowd went quiet, the conversations dying along with the singing. The excited buzz dropped away to a low mutter as the bells started to ring. Their sonorous pealing pierced the cold night air and heralded in the New Year.

‘Happy nineteen thirty-two,’ said Danny, giving us both a quick kiss.

Meanwhile, the women beside us shrieked with mock surprise as a group of young men threw their arms around them and started an impromptu dance. With the crowd now surging around, they were soon whisked away into the darkness, still laughing.

‘A happy New Year, Danny,’ we said, almost in unison while Maddie kissed him on the cheek.

We tried to escape from this mass of celebrating humanity. Maddie, with one hand on her hat and another around my waist, and I stayed close to Danny who was leading the way and trying to weave through the crowd.

We were at the bottom of the Overgate when I spotted Dad. He was with a group of men but a woman was hugging him. Perhaps some over-eager reveller, I thought, trying to squeeze my way towards him.

‘Danny, it’s Dad,’ I shouted, trying to raise my voice above the deafening din. ‘I’m going over to see him.’

I was almost there – just a few yards away. I could see Dad’s face clearly when suddenly Jamie appeared in front of me. He was one of Dad’s younger pals and he barred my way, grabbing me and planting a wet kiss on my lips. I smelt the beer aroma from his breath and his grip tightened around my waist.

I tried to struggle free. ‘I’ve got to see Dad, Jamie.’

His response was another wet kiss. ‘Oh, you don’t need your dad when you’ve got me.’ His words were slurred. ‘You know I’ve always fancied you?’

This was news to me and I was aghast. Fear and panic gripped me as I tried to twist away from his ever-tightening embrace. I realised the crowd was so thick that escape was almost impossible and, to make matters worse, Dad had disappeared without ever seeing me.

I thought I would faint in the crowd but suddenly and without warning a strong hand grabbed my coat collar and I was plucked backwards. I almost cried with relief when I saw Danny and Maddie, who had a very worried look on her face.

‘You gave us a fright, Ann’, said Danny. ‘Luckily Maddie saw your headsquare.’

Good old tatty scarf, I thought, mentally apologising to it for calling it frumpish.

Jamie grabbed me again but Danny stepped in beside me and gripped him by the hand. ‘A happy New Year, Jamie,’ he said brightly, as the youth glared at him. ‘Sorry to butt in but Ann has to be home by now.’

Jamie gave another glowering glance at me then to my relief, he nodded. ‘Aye, I’ll see you around sometime maybe.’ His words were more slurred now and I realised he wanted to be home himself or maybe he wanted to be sick. Either way, he pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared into the throng.

I got a lecture from both Danny and Maddie as we made our way along the Overgate. I trudged along, all excitement now gone, and I was deeply disappointed at missing Dad. It would have been lovely bringing in another year with him – just like when Mum was alive.

By the time we reached the house, it was full of neighbours celebrating. As well as Rosie and Alice, all the people from the close had squeezed into the tiny kitchen. I also saw Mrs Watts who lived in the next close. Granny always liked to include her in any gathering and, although there were few occasions for celebrations in this poverty-stricken life, they were all having a good gossip. Mrs Watts was a young-looking widow who had lost her husband at the end of the war. In 1918 she had been just nineteen and looking forward to a married life but there were hundreds, if not thousands, of women like her who had lost loved ones in the carnage.

Then we noticed Bella, sitting on the best chair with a tiny glass of whisky in one hand and a small piece of shortbread in the other. When she spotted Maddie who was a new face to her, she latched on to her like a leech.

‘Come over here, lass, and sit beside me and tell me who you are.’ She patted a vacant wooden stool.

As Maddie dutifully went over, Danny whispered behind her retreating back, ‘We’ll rescue you in three hours.’

I looked over to where Granny was presiding over her guests. Although money was in short supply, my grandparents liked to be hospitable at Hogmanay. In order to do this Granny joined her New Year club with the small licensed grocer across the street. By paying a small amount every week she was able to buy a half bottle of whisky, a bottle of ginger cordial, a box of shortbread and a small sultana cake. Some people liked black bun at this time of year but Granny’s budget didn’t stretch to that.

The noisy chatter had kept Lily awake and she was sitting up in her pram. Grandad was doing his party trick with the spoons. Rattling them together against his arms and legs in a syncopating, metallic beat which, to everyone’s delight, was mimicked by the baby as she shook her rattle every now and then.

Maddie seemed fascinated by this co-ordinated, dexterous display with the spoons but Bella was annoyed by this because Maddie’s gaze had wandered right in the middle of the tale of Bella’s ingrown toenail. Not to be outdone, she raised her voice over all the distractions. ‘Now, as I was saying, this nail gives me gyp, I can tell you, and there’s no medicine strong enough to help the pain.’ She fished a small bottle out from the pocket of her voluminous apron and almost shoved it under Maddie’s nose. ‘Even this stuff doesn’t help and I get this from the chemist’s shop. She gazed at the bottle as if deciding. ‘Still, maybe I’ll just have a wee drop.’ She sounded like a martyr.

Maddie jumped up. ‘I’ll go and get a glass for your medicine,’ she volunteered, only to be forestalled by Bella’s big hand.

‘No, no, lass, just sit down.’ She yanked the cork from the dark brown ribbed bottle and raised it to her lips. ‘I’ll just have a swig of this. I’ve been taking this medicine for so long now that my swigs are more accurate than any chemist’s measure.’

She then replaced the cork firmly back in the bottle and replaced it in her pocket before picking up her tiny glass and downing the contents in one go. ‘That’s better,’ she said, wiping her lips in satisfaction.