When Sorry Is Not Enough (7 page)

Sally shook her head. ‘No. We just have to go over some confidential family business that he will be taking care of for me.’

‘Con…fi…den…tial?’ Maggie drawled. ‘And whit does that mean?’

‘That it’s none of your bleeding business,’ was Sally’s quick rejoinder.

The contract taxi had just put Sally down in Great Junction Street, which meant she only had a few yards to walk up King Street to the entrance of her son Bobby’s office.

The office had originally been the victual dealer’s shop that had sold a variety of foodstuffs to all manner of people. Bobby’s change of use of the shop had only changed the product being on offer to the customers. Now only his professional expertise was for sale but the variety of clientele buying on the premises was still as varied.

Pushing open the door she was greeted with a cool smile from the receptionist who said, ‘Can I assist you?’

‘Yes,’ was Sally’s emphatic reply, ‘I wish to see Mr Stuart, and right now.’

The young woman laughed. ‘I’m sorry but that’s just not possible. Mr Stuart is about to leave for the sheriff court so he would not be able to see you until late on this afternoon.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ Sally expounded before proceeding over to the door marked private. ‘Do you know who I am?’

‘No,’ the assistant replied, quickly rising to bar Sally from barging into Bobby’s office.

Luckily Bobby had heard Sally and Ursula’s raised voices so he immediately opened the door and, giving his assistant a knowing wink, he then quickly said, ‘Come away in, Mother. But I can only give you five minutes. A taxi will be arriving then to take me to court.’

Sally was a bit put out at that. Bobby had been her favourite child because she had felt he needed her more. He’d been born with a short leg and she had always encouraged him to study because she felt he was not robust enough for manual work. She had been delighted when all her cajoling had paid off and he had been accepted for Edinburgh University. She was even more elated when he told her he would be studying law. It was at the university that he had met Lois. Sally remembered how she had felt when Lois had come on the scene and she was somehow less important in Bobby’s life. This feeling of rejection became even stronger when Lois told her that her ambition was for Bobby and herself to start up a legal practice together. Like today, all Sally could do then was to accept that she was no longer top priority in Bobby’s life. Difficult it had been to also realise that she did not have first call on his time either. However, it turned out that even though Lois thought she would map out their career path, Bobby, who had been taught to think for himself, thought differently. Sally had wished she’d been a fly on the wall when he announced to Lois that he was going to pursue a career on his own. That career path would take him into defending, mostly the indefensible in Sally’s eyes, those who were charged with being in breach of the law.

‘Okay, I accept that you are busy but then so am I. Nonetheless, your Granny Flora, who always put herself out for you, is in need of your expert assistance.’

Bobby rubbed his hand over his chin. ‘In what way?’

The next three precious minutes were spent with Sally giving a detailed report on the problems that were facing Flora and Shonag.

Bobby nodded, inhaled, then blew out his lips. ‘Yes, I can see this could all be tricky. But what do you think I could do about it?’

‘Look into the legality of this sale. Try and find a way of salvaging something for the two of them. Make sure they are not going to be fleeced.’ Sally was now quite agitated. She began waving her hands about aimlessly and her words were accompanied with sprays of saliva. ‘Look,’ she shouted, ‘I beggared myself to put you through law school and all I’m asking is for a wee pay back.’

‘And, Mum,’ Bobby quietly replied, ‘I will willingly freely represent you when you eventually murder Maggie or Margo but I cannot advise you on a matter that relates to property or inheritance – that is Lois’s field of expertise.’

‘But surely she could keep you right.’

‘Mum,’ Bobby emphasised, ‘what you require being advised on … is for Lois to do. And could I suggest that you ask her to assist you?’ He paused before softly saying, ‘She’s not the ogre you like to think she is. She was just brought up differently to me but she is a warm, loving human being …’

‘Who comes across as being distant,’ butted in Sally.

‘To you and only you,’ Bobby emphasised while glancing at his watch. ‘And that is because you have always kept her at arm’s length.’ He sighed before looking at his watch again. ‘Look, Mum, time’s moving on and so must I. So it’s make up your mind time. The problem is you need someone to help you sort things out for granny. Lois is more than capable of doing that but
you
have to ask her.’

‘Bobby, please,’ Sally wheedled.

‘No, Mum. I have advised you on what to do. Tell you what though, to make it easier for you, tomorrow is Friday. Why don’t you and Uncle Luke come over to Craighall for a meal?’ He consulted his watch again. ‘Let’s say about seven o’clock.’

Before there could be any further verbal intercourse between mother and son, a wild-looking woman about thirty years of age burst into the office. ‘Bobby,’ she screeched, ‘you’ve got to get them to drop the wife-beating charges against my Jimmy or he’s gonnae dae me in.’

Bobby turned to his mother. ‘See you tomorrow, Mum. Lois and I will so enjoy having you and Uncle Luke over at our place.’

The receptionist came forward to say, ‘Bobby, your taxi has arrived.’

‘Fine. Just give me a minute with Fran.’

Sally was making for the door when the assistant came forward. ‘Fran is forever having these dramatic scenes but Bobby will have her calmed down in next to no time. You know he does so understand her and that is surprising because she had such a deprived childhood and he tells me that he on the other hand …’ she paused before adding, ‘was always provided with a new Burberry coat and Startrite shoes and every year at that.’

Sally felt the woman was waiting for a comment from her but she was struck dumb.

On leaving King Street Sally decided to stroll down to the Four Marys pub on the Shore. She was the licensee but she now trusted the management of the lucrative establishment to Josie. Some people thought that this was a reckless action on Sally’s part as Josie was … . well, as Sally conceded, Josie was as Josie was.

As she ambled over Cables Wynd and looked up at the high-rise building, she shuddered. Never would she consider that the soulless-looking place should be classed as suitable housing for mothers and bairns. Nothing she could do about that so she strolled on and then passed the Model Lodging House in Parliament Street. Her thoughts now turned again to Josie. But then when in her life had she not thought about her? She smiled when she thought how Josie had changed in the last three years. The change had come about when Angela, the child Josie had abandoned at birth, had turned up on the doorstep of the Four Marys bar. Sally could still remember the night she had come face to face with the very attractive young woman. That was the night Sally had ended up assaulted – not only by her niece, Angela, who mistakenly thought she was the mother who had callously abandoned her, but also her brother, Luke, who wrongly assumed she had assisted their mother, Peggy Mack, out of this world.

Since Angela had come on the scene Josie seemed to have grown up. It was true she still flirted with the men that came into the bar, but the squandering of her money had stopped. Every penny was a prisoner now. All Josie could think about was how she could speedily amass another aeroplane fare to California.

Sally was nearly on top of the Four Marys when she stopped to remember Angela’s wedding. The invitation had come to her and for a partner of her choice. Sally had not hesitated to return it to Angela with the suggestion that she should redirect it to her mother, Josie. She had gone on to say that it was right that Angela was angry with Josie for leaving her in the unmarried mothers’ home but could she not accept that Josie was only fifteen years of age at the time. All alone in the world, okay by her choice she was, so naturally she had panicked and done the only thing she thought she could do – leave her baby because she was incapable of providing for her. This mistake, Sally went on to point out, had blighted the whole of Josie’s life. Never a day went by that she didn’t think and long for Angela. The letter had done the trick and Angela had then sent on an invitation to Josie who of course had asked Sally to accompany her to California for her daughter’s big day.

Sally recalled with gladness how Joy Yorkston, Angela’s grandmother, had welcomed both Josie and herself into her home. Indeed Sally was very grateful to Joy for going out of her way to willingly accept Josie as her daughter-in-law. The wedding day itself was all that Josie could have wished it to be. Everybody, including Angela and Joy, toasted the mother of the bride, Josie, who had made a big effort to charm everybody. Sally chuckled when she accepted that the wedding had been Josie’s passport to America and every year since then, come rain or shine, Josie was at least once on a transatlantic flight.

The front doors of the Four Marys were open wide and Sally’s meanderings were brought to a halt by Rita’s rendering of ‘Galway Bay’ assaulting her ears. Rita did so like to sing. The only problem with that was Rita was so tuneless that if the rat catcher hadn’t got rid of all the rats, then her singing would certainly have had them throwing themselves into the water that lapped the Shore.

‘Morning,’ Sally shouted. But Rita had decided to ignore everyone until the last line of the song was belted out and all in hearing distance knew that she hoped in her closing seconds of life she would see the sun going down on ‘Galway Bay’.

‘Rita, before you launch into “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”,’ Sally hollered in the kitchen door, ‘could you stop and have a cup of tea and a chat with me?’

‘Och, it’s yourself, Sally,’ Rita responded while flicking the switch on the kettle down. ‘Now would you like a wee bit of toast to go with your cuppa?’

Sally nodded. ‘What time are you expecting Josie?’

‘Oh, you’ve just missed her. But she’ll be back shortly. Just went over to the Post Office to mail a letter to … to …’

‘America?’

‘Naw. That would be far too sensible.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just that she’s got in with that halfwit Senga … you ken her that drinks a double malt through a straw and can only smoke her fags if they’re in a long holder … anyway the two of them have been writing to a lonely hearts column.’

‘A what?’

‘Ye ken. They newspaper folk that charge you for putting in an advert like … well in Josie’s case it read … “Sophisticated intelligent born again virgin who runs her own lucrative business seeks mature gentleman for companionship. Likes travel, including American and Continental holidays, music and drama.” ’

‘What? And as to drama I hope she said it wasn’t that she liked watching them but that she bleeding well creates them.’

‘Oh, Sally, if you think Josie went over the top with her advert you should have read Senga’s.’

‘No thanks. I just have to allow the picture of the last time I saw fifty-year-old Senga in her hot pants to flash into my conscious mind and I get the general idea – and also the boak.’

Before Rita could respond, Josie rushed into the bar with a large bag of morning rolls. ‘Thought I would save you a journey, Rita, so here are the lunchtime rolls.’

Josie then became aware of Sally. ‘Oh, Sally, how’s your face? David Stock was just telling me that he had seen you since I had and that it was so much better.’ Josie laid the rolls on the bar, then lowering her voice and cocking her head to the side she confided, ‘And here, do you ken his wife is really poorly? Taken her into the infirmary, they have.’ She sucked in her breath before continuing, ‘Seems there’s no much they can do for her.’ She exhaled and clucked before adding, ‘Mind you she has lasted longer than anybody thought she would. I mean Sally, how long have you been hanging on for David?’

Sally gasped. ‘Josie,’ she exclaimed, ‘I have not been twiddling my thumbs waiting for David. I have got on with my life.’

‘Aye, but you’ve always been waiting in the wings for Elspeth to fall off her perch.’

‘Oh!’ shrieked Sally, who was appalled that people may have seen the relationship between her and David that way. ‘We have only ever been very good friends who have occasionally gone out to the theatre or had a bite of supper together.’

‘Bite of supper you call it,’ mocked Josie. ‘Here Rita, go on and be brave and tell her what you think a bite of supper is in her case.’

Rita started for the kitchen. ‘Leave me out of this. I ken nothing. And I’m pleased to ken nothing.’

Once Rita was safely in the kitchen Sally turned her full attention onto Josie. ‘What on earth has got into you? You’ve never spoken to me like you have just done. I have supported you all through your life. Made excuses for you. Sorted out so many messes for you I’ve lost count. So out with it – what’s going on?’

Josie pulled herself up as far as she could. But before replying to Sally she took a long look at herself in the large mirror above the bar and running her fingers through her hair she said, ‘Better get used to the new me, Sally. Gone are the days when you can use me to run your businesses for a pittance. From here on in …’

Sally guffawed and spluttered. ‘Have you lost your marbles or something, Josie?’ she asked through her mirth. ‘I pay you more than I pay anyone … and more than you’re blooming worth.’

‘You think so?’ jeered Josie.

‘I do. And have you ever thought how much gallivanting over to America you would do if I wasn’t subsidising you?’

Josie looked in the mirror again. ‘Sally, I’m sorry but I have been put wise to you and how you use everyone, especially me, to your own ends.’

Sally quite suddenly stopped chortling because she just couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Reluctantly she had to consider,
what or who had got into Josie?
‘Look,’ she managed to eventually stutter, ‘who has been putting all this rubbish into your head?’