by Millie Gray
21
AN UNLIKELY PROPOSAL
As the year drew to a close Anna sat reminiscing. She thought it had been an eventful twelve months. The changes, she acknowledged, had begun even before the year started. Anna inhaled as she relived the relief when Gus and Daisy had been able to find acceptable solutions to their mutual problems. Indeed, hadn’t peace descended on the Jeanie Wilson with the truculent skipper and his assistant appearing to be always willing to bend with the wind?
Bella had then given birth to her fifth child. Little Annabella had been delivered, not like her other siblings by Anna, but by a doctor.
Anna allowed herself a slight laugh. Rye had thought she’d have felt slighted by a doctor doing the delivery but Anna had reluctantly admitted she wasn’t as able as she used to be, so rushing up Lochend Road in the middle of the night was no longer an option. The other reason why she was pleased was that Bella and Gus were prospering and therefore could afford a doctor’s extortionate (in Anna’s opinion) fee.
Now that her memories were in full flight she thought about Robert who, when Bunty had gone into labour, had flown along Great Junction Street and on to Couper Street just to have Anna and no one else deliver his daughter. The most pleasing thing about the birth was that Robert insisted that his daughter be called Norma.
Looking out the top of the window at the storm clouds chasing across the sky, she grimaced. Most things hadn’t been too bad this year but … Hesitating, her thoughts now strayed to Rachel and she was wondering what was wrong with Bud? For years he’d strung Rachel along and as the lassie was approaching twenty-one and no ring on her finger it was becoming embarrassing. Anna suspected his mother, who had always considered a lassie brought up in Couper Street, round the corner from where she’d been reared, to be inferior to her son was to blame for Bud’s reticence. But how could Bud’s mother look down on her Rachel? In Anna’s opinion, Rachel was the best and most tastefully turned-out lassie, not only in Leith but Edinburgh as well.
You never saw her with a scarf around her head. No. When Rachel went out she was always wearing a small head-hugging hat of some description. Anna knew she favoured the small hats because they allowed her long, now nearly black, glistening hair to be shown off to advantage.
Thinking of Rachel always brought a smile to Anna’s face. Today as she beamed she thought back to how easy it had been for her to request that she take her from the orphanage to rear her as her own. Tears flooded her eyes as she acknowledged they were meant to be together. There was no doubt she loved Bella and all the boys dearly but Rachel from the start had been the daughter of her heart.
Anna’s head shot up when a pounding on the door disturbed her. She shuddered and alarm bells rang in her head. The panic was not because of the pounding on the door but from the guttural tirade spewing from the drunkard’s mouth.
Rising quickly she wrenched open the door and Gabby reeled in. Kicking him until he finally rolled over and was therefore no longer an obstruction to preventing her closing the door, she hissed, “And what the blazes do you want?”
“Aaah, aaah,” he slavered, grabbing hold of the end of the wax table-cover which he managed, along with the contents of the table, to pull down on himself.
“Be quiet, you drunken sod. I’ve got neighbours and I have to live here so I don’t need you giving me a showing up.”
Gabby was now sitting upright and brushing precious sugar from his hair and knives from his overcoat. “Anna, I need yer help, hen.”
“You what?”
“Aye, you see, the sadistic buggers have chucked me oot.”
“Are you saying you’ve lost your job and you’re expecting me to give you a handout?”
“Naw. I’m still yin of the best riveters going. Aye, aw the shipyairds would like to employ me.” Gabby blew out his lips with pride before uttering another throaty moan. “Naw, you see Anna. It’s my house – I’ve been chucked oot.”
“So what’s that to do with me? If I’d been your landlord I’d have sent for the sanitary to dump you on the street years ago.”
Gabby ignored Anna’s tirade. “And I thought, you being a good Christian woman who takes in all sorts of strays needing a hame, you’d welcome me noo ye only have Rachel.” Gabby continued to slaver profusely and attempting to wipe his chin with the back of his hand he only managed to make the mess worse. “Noo,” he earnestly continued his plea, “we could baith benefit. I’m willing to take ower yer back room and you’d get the turn of a bob or two rent off me.”
Taking the opportunity to give him another kick, Anna responded, “That back room of mine has been used by Rachel ever since Robert left.” Anna now pointed to the back bedroom. “Rachel sleeps in there with all her stuff round about her and I sleep in,” she now pointed to the bed behind her, “in there. So sir, there’s no way I would allow you to disrupt Rachel’s life!”
Rocking backwards and forwards Gabby appeared to be deep in thought. Slowly his demeanour changed and making a grab for Anna’s leg he pulled her down beside him. “Oh, Anna,” he exclaimed as he imprisoned her chin in his right hand. “I didnae ken you cared.”
Shrieking, Anna struggled to be free but he managed to get hold of her mass of hair that she’d imprisoned in a chignon on the top of her head. Rolling over the floor together her now pure-white hair cascaded over her face. “What in the name of heavens are you talking about, you drunken buffoon?” she managed to splutter.
Gabby released Anna and they sat facing each other. “Just that you,” he said, putting out his hand to cover hers, which made her promptly wriggle further away, “don’t want to put me in Rachel’s room because you want me to share your bed!”
As panic gripped her Anna tried desperately to crawl away out of Gabby’s reach and towards a chair. She was still endeavouring to lever her unyielding arthritic frame up when thankfully Rye burst in.
“I heard the screams,” stammered Rye while trying to take in the situation. “Oh my goodness. What in the name of all that’s holy is going on in here?” she cried, assisting Anna up and onto the chair.
Through her uncontrollable sobs Anna whimpered, “That pig wants to come and stay here with me and not only that he even had the nerve to …” Anna’s head trembled and sobs racked her. There was no way she could even utter the obscenity that Gabby’s suggestion was to her.
Putting her arms around Anna all Rye could utter was, “There, there. You’re not alone. I’m here.”
By now Gabby had struggled to his feet. “Look, Anna,” he spluttered, “if it’s us no being churched that’s the problem … then … mind you … against my better judgement it would be, but …”
Breaking from Rye’s hold Anna lifted a plate from the bunker and swiftly broke it over Gabby’s head. “Me, marry you?” she spat. “I’d rather throw myself into hell’s burning fire!”
Gabby shrugged. “Look, you’ll need to take me in. For if you dinnae I’ll need to go into the lodging house in Parliament Street. Is that what you want?”
Reaching for the mantelpiece Anna retrieved her purse and taking coins from it she flung them towards Gabby. “Here. There’s the price of your first week’s lodgings. Now get out of my sight.”
Rye’s eyes were darting between Anna and Gabby and she found herself trying to swallow her fist to stem her laughter when Gabby, picking up the coins from the floor, asked, “Am I right in thinking, Rye, that Anna here doesnae want me as a husband?”
The store had been closed for fifteen minutes before Rachel and two of her workmates emerged into Taylor Gardens.
Rachel had been reluctant to transfer to the newly opened chemist part of the store. Nonetheless she had been persuaded to leave women’s fashions, where she was still a junior, by being offered a senior shop assistant’s post in the make-up department.
She had really blossomed in the job and had become quite expert in her knowledge of cosmetics and perfumes – Ponds, Yardleys, Coty travellers were soon courting her in an effort to get her to
promote their merchandise. Of course, she had also to attend to the less glamorous side of the business – cough cures, chest rubs, bunion pads, pile ointment, etc.
As the door closed behind the young women, Rachel noticed Bud loitering on the corner. “Look girls, there’s my boyfriend,” she said, skipping towards Bud. “See you all tomorrow.”
“Rachel,” chorused Bud as soon as they were alone. “Our luck has changed. I’ve just been asked by my boss if I’d like to go, for two years, to our sister company in America.”
“Oh,” was all Rachel could utter.
“Look, let’s sit down on that bench over there,” Bud continued while propelling her over to Taylor Gardens. “Now what that means is since we have an understanding we could get married right away and I could take you with me.”
Trying to keep her excitement in check Rachel muttered, “We have an understanding?”
“Well, I understood that you understood that we had an understanding,” blustered Bud. He then stopped and waited for a response from Rachel but her attention seemed to be far away so he went on, “Surely after all this time you knew that one day we would get married.”
Reminding Rachel of just how long she’d waited for him to ask her to marry him brought all the resentment she felt about his mother to the surface. Rachel knew that Bud was deterred by his mother always spouting, “Surely you’re not going to throw yourself away on a lassie from Couper Street. And remember, Bud,” she would add with feigned maternal concern, “I’m not saying there was a … let’s say ‘unseemly’ reason … but as everyone in Leith knows there never was an acceptable one as to why her saintly auntie wheeled her in a fish barrow away from her father’s house in Coatfield Lane!” She then would allow a long silence to hang before simpering sweetly, “Not telling you what to do, son – just asking you to look at the lassie’s father and then consider what you’re taking on.”
Rachel’s mouth was dry when she asked, “But what will your mother say?”
“Darling,” enthused Bud, “that’s just it. We’ll get a special licence and get married and take off.” Rachel seemed perplexed. Unperturbed, he continued, “Can’t you see if we make a go of it in America, and just think we might never come back, so what my mother thinks is irrelevant.” Bud was now down on his knees in front of her, “Darling, I love you. I always have. Please say yes, and let’s spend the rest of our lives together.”
Hot scalding tears cascaded down Rachel’s cheeks as she nodded her consent.
After saying goodbye to Bud an hour had passed before Rachel was walking up the stairs to her aunt’s house.
She smiled inwardly as she recalled every word of Bud’s proposal. She’d just consented when he said he’d need to get home, as his mother would have his tea on the table. Rachel, still awash with emotion, felt she needed time to compose herself, time to tell someone her great news.
Being in Taylor Gardens it was only natural to think of confiding in her long-time friend, Rosa, who lived in one of the flats round the corner from the department store in Kings Street.
Vigorously ringing the bell she waited impatiently until Rosa’s mother, Mrs Liston, stuck her head over the banister and called out, “What do you want?”
“Just to speak to Rosa, Mrs Liston. It’s important.”
“She’s not in.”
Before Rachel could thank Mrs Liston for her information Rosa’s head appeared alongside her mother’s and she yelled down, “Don’t listen to my mother. I never do. Hold on, Rachel. I’m just coming down.”
Rachel had just opened the door when she became aware that Uncle Andy and Aunt Rosie were in the house and Anna, her face whiter than a ghost’s, was propped up in bed. “What’s happened?” she asked, advancing towards the bed.
Andy, who had a soft spot for Rachel, placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “She’s just had a wee shock.”
“Oh, please not a stroke.”
“Naw. Naw, lassie. Someone, and I don’t think they meant to, gave her a wee fright. But she’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
“Who?”
Rosie and Andy didn’t answer but they did look at each other before shrugging.
Rachel inhaled. The stink of alcohol, mixed with vile scent of body odour that invaded her nostrils told her exactly who the culprit was. Hadn’t that cocktail of odours always turned her stomach? So much so that now it was fashionable, when you were out socialising, to have a wee port and lemon or a sweet sherry she never did. Like Auntie, she was strictly teetotal.
Sitting on the side of the bed she took Anna’s hand in hers. “Why did my father come here?”
Andy drummed his fingers on his chin. “It seems the poor crater,” he now grimaced before going on, “needs somewhere to bide … but, no offence, lassie, who’s going to have him?”
Patting Anna’s hand Rachel replied, “Certainly nobody in here! This is my sanctuary – my home!” She then ran her hand over Anna’s face before emphatically saying, “Yes, this is Auntie’s and my home and never ever will there be room for him.”
“Oh, lassie,” cried Rosie, wringing her hands, “he’s your father and it’s un-Christian to turn him away. Remember what the Bible says, ‘Honour your father and mother’.”
“That right? Well, Auntie Rosie, you honour him because I can’t – I can only thank him for the grief he’s always caused me and for nothing else.”
Rosie was about to speak again when Andy spoke. “That’s enough, Rosie,” he warned. “He wasn’t turned away without being given food and the price of a bed for the night.” Turning to Rachel, his tone softened. “And heed me, lassie, that’s all you, as his daughter, will ever be required to do. Now we’ll get going. But we’ll send Johnny over in a bit in case you need anything doing.”
The door had just closed on Rosie and Andy when Rachel was able to give full attention to Anna. Why, she wondered, hadn’t she noticed how old and frail she’d become? When was it her frame had shrunk and her head had become permanently bowed by dowager’s hump?
The realisation of the deterioration in Anna couldn’t have come at a worse time for Rachel. She’d danced up the stairs eager to tell Anna the glad tidings, that Bud at last had asked her to marry him, but how could she now? Anna couldn’t earn enough to pay the rent of the house, buy coal to keep her old bones warm or nourishing food for her belly.
Laying her head on the table Rachel wept bitterly. Why is it, she thought, that you longed and prayed for your dream to come true and when it did you had two choices: either to run with your dream or do the decent thing and realise it was payback time!
By the time Bud reached home in Trinity he’d rehearsed over and over again what he was going to say to his mother. However when he got into the house his mother was like the sullen dame in Robert Burns’ “Tam O’Shanter”, nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
“What time of night do you call this?” she hissed, unable to keep her anger in check.
“Wait ‘til I tell you, Mum.”
“Tell me what exactly? That you’ve been dilly-dallying with that man-crazy bitch from Couper Street?”
Bud’s father, who was trying desperately to stay out of the escalating row between his son and his wife, lowered his paper and said, “That’s enough, Eliza. You can’t go about slandering people …” He sighed to give himself time to pick up courage and go on. “Especially as all you’re alleging would appear,” he lifted his hands and pushed them towards his wife, “and I say again appear to have no foundation.”
Eliza’s mouth dropped. Was she hearing right? Her husband, who she thought hadn’t an opinion on anything, was taking sides against her. “So that’s how it’s to be?” she sniffed. “You, his father, don’t care if he takes on a totally unsuitable slum-dweller as his wife?”
Buoyed by his father’s brave stance Bud said, “Look, Mum, what I have to tell you is this: the firm is sending me away to America for two years.”
“Good. That might bring you to your senses and y
ou might meet up with more suitable girlfriends there who come from decent families like … like …” Eliza paused to think and both Bud and his father howled with laughter when she spluttered, “The Rockefellers and Carnegies.”
“Mum, we’re just like Rachel’s family – working class. Now what I propose is that Rachel and I marry before we leave for America.”
“You’re taking her with you?” spluttered Eliza, clutching her breast.
“Yes. And that’ll give you two years to get used to the idea of us being husband and wife.”
A long silent pause hung in the room. Eliza was obviously thinking of her next move and Bud and his father were surprised when she said, “Okay. Two years will let everybody calm down but …”
Bud looked at his father. “I just knew there would have to be a but.”
“Before you go, why don’t you get Rachel a nice wee engagement ring? She deserves that,” Eliza simpered. “But don’t tie yourself down with a wife until you come back.”
“Och, Mum, you don’t know Rachel. She wouldn’t go off with me to America unless we were married.”
Eliza smiled sweetly. “I know that. What I’m saying is, promise yourself to her but tell her you want to be fair and not rush her … but as soon as you get back wedding bells will chime.”
Bud looked at his dad who shrugged his resignation. That hunch of his dad’s shoulders told Bud he’d lost his ally and that he’d have to take on his formidable mother on his own. He was resigned to capitulation.
Rachel had sponged Anna down and fed her some soup by the time Bella came to visit. “The spirits have already told me how things are but just in case I didn’t get the message quite right …” Bella asked, looking over her shoulder, “How is she?”
Rachel sank down on the fender stool beside Bella. “It’s really the arthritis. Every movement is so painful for her and each day she gets stiffer and stiffer.”
“Aye, she’s certainly been failing of late,” Bella said, looking directly at Rachel. “But I feel, and so does your mother, that forbye Auntie there’s something amiss with you.”