The Tangling of the Web (25 page)

BOOK: The Tangling of the Web
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Angela laughed. It was a light laugh that was so distinctively her. ‘Aunt Sally,’ she emphasised through her cackles, ‘I already have a rescue package that I got from my grandmother, and thanks to you taking me under your wing I have never needed to dip into it.’

‘I’m going to miss you. The house will seem so quiet without you bawling out “I’m going home to San Francisco” every morning in the bathroom.’

Angela threw her arms around Sally. ‘And I’ll miss you. The best thing that has happened to me on this trip is I found out I had an Aunt Sally.’

‘And your mother,’ Sally quickly interjected.

Angela went on as if Sally had not responded. ‘Aunt Sally,’ she intimately continued, ‘if I send you an invitation to my wedding next year, would you come?’

‘An invitation for only me?’

‘Well, no. I’ll send it for you and a partner and you can bring anyone you like with you.’

‘So you won’t be specifically asking your mother?’

Angela shook her head.

‘Well, in that case save yourself the postage, because I will come to your wedding as your mother’s partner, but please understand that Josie is my sister – she had one bloody awful life as a child. I have always looked out for her and I could never be party to anybody hurting or humiliating her.’

‘In that case, all I can say is that I love you Auntie Sally and I respect your decision – but remember it is your decision.’

Tears of regret and frustration welled up in Sally, and before she could join Jock at his table, she had to go to the toilet to freshen up.

Emerging from the lavatory, she noticed that Jock was in deep conversation with Daisy, who had also brought along the dashing Dr Falconer. The doctor, to Sally’s surprise, was so casually dressed that he looked like a college dropout.

Mincing her way over to the table, Sally, who wished to have her thoughts diverted from Josie and Angela and the problems with their rocky relationship, was pleased to greet Jock. ‘Now,’ she began with a coquettish smile and a few friendly pats of his hand, ‘you, sir, promised me some wonderful tales about my mother and my childhood days, so how about getting started old-timer?’

The undivided attention Sally had poured on him seemed to boost old Jock’s confidence, but before he replied, he wiped his whiskers dry with a very, for him, clean handkerchief. ‘Just saying,’ he began with a long sniff, ‘to your sister Daisy here that whenever I look and listen to you and Josie I see and hear your mother.’

‘You do?’ exclaimed Sally, who didn’t wish to be identified with any of Peggy’s attributes.

‘I do. You see, my dear, you have your mother’s energy and drive, but Josie has her stunning looks.’

Daisy and Sally were both rocking with laughter. ‘Think that’s a backhanded compliment, Sally,’ Daisy spluttered.

‘Could be you’re right,’ Sally quipped, while reaching over and gently tugging Jock’s beard.

‘And, Jock, do you see nothing of my mother in me?’

‘To be truthful, Daisy, hen – I haven’t given you much thought. It’s Peter …’

Sally had been going to twitter again, but the mention of her brother Peter put an end to any further hilarity.

‘Peter,’ she cried, ‘are you saying you knew my brother Peter?’

Jock was now visibly upset. ‘Knew him? Oh, lassie, there’s never a day goes by that I dinnae think about him. Regret what happened to him. Like my own faither, he was. Strong, yet gentle. Always trying to please and putting others’ welfare before his own.’

‘Like your father. What do you mean?’

Lifting Sally’s hand in his, Jock began to stroke it gently before saying in a hushed voice, ‘Did your mammy never tell you about her and me?’

Sally shook her head. She then tried to take her hand from Jock’s, but his grip was so tight she couldn’t. She knew she would have to reply to him, but she was experiencing mixed emotions. It was true that she was desperate to learn the exact nature of the relationship between Peggy and Jock, but on the other hand she felt that if it was another sordid episode of her mother’s life then she could do without knowing. ‘And what about my mother and you?’ she whispered cautiously and quietly.

Jock, still fiercely holding on to Sally’s hand, began, ‘I was just a young strapping man when I met Peggy. I thought as I’d been happily married to my childhood sweetheart for six months and she was pregnant with our first, and only, child that I wouldn’t be attracted to any other woman.’ He sobbed and cried before going on. ‘But the moment I met your mother I was doomed and so was she. Love-struck with each other we were. Honestly, I wanted to, but I couldn’t stay away from her – keep my hands off her. Oh Sally, she was so beautiful and vivacious but she was like hypnotic alcohol – you know you shouldn’t drink it because it will destroy you, but you can’t stop swallowing it. Then she told me she was pregnant and she wanted me to divorce my wife …’

Mouth agape, Sally wrenched her hand free. ‘Just a minute,’ she yelped. ‘Are you saying that
you
were my brother Peter’s father?’

Jock nodded. ‘Aye, and to my shame I never recognised him, so he was labelled bastard. You see, I couldnae divorce my wife. I’m staunch Catholic and I’d have been damned forevermore if I’d dared to break my vows.’

‘But if it was my mother that you loved then shouldn’t you have at least acknowledged Peter?’

‘I was going to, but I thought it best to tell my wife first that he was mine. She went berserk. Broke a plate over my heid, kicked me where she shouldn’t have and then threatened to kill herself if I mentioned to anyone that I had put your mother in the family way.’

‘So your wife knew you had fathered another child but she wouldn’t let you tell anyone?’

‘Not exactly. She got me to confess it to the priest down at St Mary’s Star of the Sea and he said my duty was to my wife and John. And he suggested that Peggy should put her child in an orphanage.’

‘Then what happened?’ Sally asked, as the magnitude of the situation her mother had found herself in dawned upon her.

‘I stayed with my wife.’

‘You never had any more children with your wife?’

‘No. You see, you have to sleep together for that to happen and I was sentenced to sleep in the big armchair until she died last year, then I was allowed back in the big bed.’

‘And you and my mother never met up after that?’

Jock looked perplexed. ‘We did. As you know, I was in the police and unfortunately on the Junction Street beat so I was always bumping into Peggy. If she had Peter with her she would say, “Come on, son, I don’t want you mixing with that big, bad man.” The wee soul was terrified of me. And I wanted to give your mum a wee something to help with your brother’s upkeep, but I had to hand over my wage packet unopened every week. I wasn’t even given money for my fags, my Willie Woodbines; she bought them for me. I’d made a mistake …’

‘Just a minute,’ Sally gasped, ‘don’t you dare say my brother Peter was a mistake! The only mistake I can see was my mother getting in tow with you! Don’t you understand that I loved my brother? He was good to me.’ Sally grasped the edge of the table as she tried to keep control. ‘Don’t know how I would have survived my childhood without him.’

‘I know that. But she goaded me with him.’ Jock was now looking disgustingly at his right hand and thumping it off the table. ‘And see this hand of mine, I wish I could cut it off for what she made me do to him.’

‘What are you talking about? What did she make you do?’

‘He got into trouble. Nothing serious … he just stole a couple of pies when you and he were hungry. Because I wouldn’t do right by your mum, she decided to get even with me, and any man that fancied her she took. She’d gone off to Glasgow with her latest lover and left the two of you. And then when the judge said Peter would need to go to the Industrial School for correction, she said no – birch him.’

Sally knew that she didn’t wish to hear the rest of this story. Somehow she was already aware of what had happened.

Shaking with the raw emotion that had been conjured up by his memories Jock continued through racking sobs. ‘By now she was twisted. She knew that I was the duty officer that day so it would be me that would have to beat my own defenceless laddie. Smirking she was when she handed him over to me. “When you’re done with him,” she whispered gleefully, “tell him to make his own way home. I’ve better things to do than hang around here.” With that she flounced out of the station without a backward glance. And see when I was tying his hands and feet …’

Luke, concerned about the state Jock had got himself into, came over to the table and signalled for Daisy to vacate her chair so he could sit down. ‘What in the name of heaven is going on here?’ he exclaimed, while casting a hostile look towards Sally.

‘Just listen,’ was Sally’s tearful response.

Jock was now completely oblivious to anyone being present except himself, and the desire to confess what he had done to the son, he was not man enough to recognise, was overwhelming him. Stuttering and whimpering through heartbreaking sobs he went on. ‘I asked him if I was hurting him. He said, “Naw, mister, I ken you have to dae it.” And when I lifted up the birch and landed the first stroke on his back and he screamed out in agony I knew that I was a wimp of a man. I should have stood up to the women in my life, but I never could. And my poor laddie, Peter, bore the brunt of my failures. See when the beating was over, I flung that blasted birch into the corner of the room and I refused ever again to lay a hand on any other laddie. Sponged Peter’s back I did, then I sent him home to his loving mother.’

Sally head was now bent so low her forehead was nearly on the table. Luke put his arm around her and he whispered, ‘Well, Sally, at least you know who Peter’s father was. Isn’t that something you have always wanted to know?’

‘Oh dear God, please help me to understand. Luke,’ she screamed, ‘as God doesn’t seem to know perhaps you can tell me why my mother and this apology for a man thought they had the right to blight the life of my poor dear brother?’

Luke shook his head. His emotions were in turmoil too. Always he had blamed Sally for not being tolerant of his mother. He had even suspected that she had hastened her end. But had she? ‘Sally,’ he asked gently, ‘was it because of what our mother did to Peter that you suffocated her?’

Sally pushed herself away from Luke. ‘I never quickened her end and I’m glad I didn’t. Any suffering she was enduring would never, ever have been enough compensation for the cruelty and indifference she dished out.’ Sally was now in full flow. ‘I admit I jumped up on her bed and I had a pillow in my hand and I was going to smother her. Do you know her dying words were not for you or me, Luke, but for Peter? She wanted him to know she was sorry. Why do people think they can run roughshod over you and then when you can no longer cope with their cruelty, desertion and inhumanity, all they have to say is “sorry” and that will make it alright? “Sorry” doesn’t rectify anything and it never will. As to what happened next? Well, didn’t poor, misjudged Paddy Doyle realise I was so overwrought that I might do something stupid, so he grabbed my legs. I toppled over, the pillow flew from my grasp, and suddenly Paddy and I were wrestling on the floor. When we got up the pillow was over Mum’s face and she was dying. In hindsight, I think she may have pulled the pillow over her own face. Because of that there were no pressure marks and the doctor was more than happy to sign her death certificate. So it’s thanks to your dad that I have a clear conscience.’

‘His dad?’ old Jock mumbled. ‘Naw. Naw. You see, Peter wasn’t my only child by your mother!’ A deep groan escaped him, but it was quickly replaced by a sly smile when his treasured memories floated to the surface. ‘You have to understand,’ he pleaded, ‘Peggy and I were so infatuated with each other that whenever we had the chance we were like two dogs in heat.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘So after Peter there was you, Sally.’

‘Me?’ Sally blurted.

‘Her?’ Luke shouted.

‘Aye, and know something else she was always telling me? It was how you wanted to know who your father was. See, when I would meet you in the street I was tempted to tell you.’ He hesitated. ‘But I knew if I did my wife would find out, and life was already hard enough.’

Sally emotions were running riot. Here was a man she thought was a dear old gentleman, but now he was confessing to being a philanderer, a lecher who had fathered Peter and herself. And was he going to add Luke to his stable? Somehow she feared that he was.

She didn’t have long to wait because John had now joined them. ‘Has he told you the entire shameful story? And me, his legal son as he is always saying, I always wanted brothers and sisters, and I didn’t know I had any until my mother died. I knew my parents’ marriage was made in hell and they hated each other and I thought they’d probably stayed together for my sake. Och …’ He gently laid a comforting hand on Jock’s shoulder. ‘I just have to accept my dad …’ he smiled before correcting himself, ‘…
our
dad was a randy, irresponsible scoundrel.’

‘That right? And exactly how many of his bairns are running about Leith then?’ a bewildered Luke asked.

‘Just you lot.’

‘Are you including me in that lot?’

John nodded. ‘Yes, Luke, I am, because as far as I know he was responsible for fathering Peter, you Sally, Josie and yourself. Look, I know it’s difficult for you to accept, but you all came about because of a lifelong torrid affair between two irresponsible people.’

Luke was speechless. Sally’s mouth gaped. Josie, who had been standing in the background, was trying to swallow her fists, and all was quiet until the bar door was flung open and a voice called, ‘Taxi for Angela Yorkston.’

‘That’s me,’ Angela shouted as she grabbed for her coat and picked up her suitcase. ‘Aunt Sally,’ she said, patting Sally’s shoulder to get her attention. ‘It’s time for me to leave.’

Sally breathed in deeply before rising to take Angela into a strong embrace. ‘I’ll miss you. Now keep in touch. Angela,’ Sally faltered, ‘did you hear what Jock was saying?’

Before she responded, Angela took a long breath. ‘I did. And …’

‘Did it help you to understand why your mother reacted in the way she did when you were born?’

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