by Millie Gray
“Just a minute,” intervened Anna. “Why has Johnny, on his first march, got a bigger fine and custodial sentence than Andy who’s a habitual …”
Rachel sighed. “Seems they think, and I’m afraid I know, that Johnny is a rabble-rouser – the foremost union leader now. But look, forget all that. After we get them out we’ll still have ten pounds clear to tide all of us over.”
“Aye, and with most of the trawlers being laid up, even our Bella’s feeling the pinch,” croaked Anna.
The following day when Rachel paid for Johnny and Andy’s release she’d achieved quite a lot.
With great satisfaction she recalled how she’d just cashed in Freddie’s Godsend of an order and was skipping down the steps of Leith’s General Post Office when she noticed Eliza Watson coming up the stairs. “Good afternoon, Mrs Watson,” Rachel said in a voice dripping with honey.
“Eh. Eh,” stammered Eliza. “I’m just posting a letter here to my Bud.”
“Congratulating him on becoming a father? And you must be thrilled to be a grandmother.”
Eliza swallowed hard as her face fired. “I know what you’re thinking, and everybody else is saying, that the wee lassie’s red hair is the same shade …” Eliza continued through muffled sobs, “as the Palace Picture House projectionist.”
Rachel so wanted to humiliate Mrs Watson and say, “Oh, but as I come from Couper Street, Mrs Watson, would it not be pretentious of me to think I could think?” But she vividly remembered what Eugenie had taught her, that you should never, in public, lose your temper or dignity. “When you manage to keep your cool,” Eugenie had counselled, “you get a great feeling of superiority and satisfaction.” Rachel could have continued with, “But know this, Mrs Watson, when I wed I’ll be dressed in white because I’ll have the right to do so and my children will never require to question their lineage.”
Eugenie’s words were still ringing in her ears when instinctively she laid a comforting hand on Mrs Watson’s arm and said, “Believe me, I’m so very sorry, Mrs Watson, and could you return this to Bud for me.” Fishing in her handbag she brought out the small box containing the engagement ring Bud had given her before he’d left for America. Lifting Mrs Watson’s hand she then dropped the box into it. “And be sure to tell him, all I’ll remember are the good times and I wish him a long and happy life.”
Rachel was not standing outside as some other friends and relatives were when the prisoners, whose fines had been paid, were released.
She felt that one afternoon off work, without pay, sorting out Johnny’s problems was quite sufficient and she still had ambitions of furthering herself. Besides, both Auntie Anna and she needed the money she earned just to survive.
Emerging from the store at closing time she was surprised that Johnny was not waiting for her. Although feeling angry she conceded it was not like Johnny to treat her like this. In fact, there were times she wanted to scream at him that she was capable of looking after herself and could he accept she didn’t like being molly-coddled.
By the time she got to Couper Street the fatigue from working a ten-hour day was beginning to take its toll and it was easy to allow the feeling of resentment about Johnny not being there to thank her to creep in.
Wearily climbing the stairs she became aware of an eerie silence that seemed to envelop her. Hushed whispers seemed to be urging her to remember Bella’s warnings. Inwardly she winced as she recalled Bella’s voice saying, “Your mother is coming back. You know that where Auntie comes from they believe that when it’s your time to pass someone from the other side, who loves you very dearly, comes back to show you the way.”
Tentatively turning the door handle of her aunt’s house, Rachel’s apprehension grew and turned into frantic panic when she stepped over the threshold. There, standing in room, was everyone connected to Anna’s life – Uncle Andy, Aunt Rosie, Bella, Gus, Robert, Rye, Johnny, Ella, Davy, Sandy. Only she was needed to make up the complete congregation.
Rachel’s eyes were now drawn to the bed bedecked in the pristine linen Anna kept specially for the laying out of the dead. Her dry throat contracted as she looked on the peaceful face of her beloved auntie. Today in the big bed Auntie looked even smaller, in fact quite dwarf-like. Trying hard to control her hysteria and really being terrified to ask, Rachel could only manage to stammer, “What happened?”
“Took a wee turn for the worse, she did,” Rosie replied. “And with you keeping back some of Freddie’s money for a rainy day …”
“And I decided Auntie being ill meant it was pouring,” interrupted Bella.
“So it was only right to pay for a doctor to come in,” emphasised Andy.
Rachel nodded her thanks.
“And,” Rosie continued, “He said … it’s now her heart too. So Rachel, you’ve got to be brave.”
Violently shaking her head, Rachel blurted, “But there must be some hope.”
“Of course there is,” Andy replied, withering Rosie with a hostile stare. “All she needs is a good rest and she’ll turn the corner.”
“Och, Andy, be realistic. She’s in God’s hands now,” Rosie huffed before turning to Johnny and Ella. “Right,” she instructed, “as there’s nothing else for it – us three will get down on our knees and pray.”
Rye crossed over to the bed and placed her hand on Anna’s brow. “I don’t like it when they’re burning yet shivering with cold. No a good sign.”
Bella then looked over her shoulder and inhaled deeply before announcing, “That was Norma, your mother, Rachel, and she says she’s now in control and we have—”
Rachel suddenly jumped into the middle of the floor. “No she’s not, Bella. She gave up the right to control anything when she left us all to get on with it. And all you who are down on your knees, either get up or get a pail and some water and scrub the floor.” Stopping momentarily to catch her breath she then proceeded to voice her ultimatum. “Now, unless you’re here to help me pull Auntie through then I would be pleased if you’d just go and take your woebegone attitudes with you!”
Anna had rallied and at two o’clock in the morning Rachel found herself and Johnny staring into the flames of the fire.
“Rachel, now that Auntie’s crisis has passed I want you to know I am so very grateful to you for paying my fine.”
Rachel, face cupped in her hands, just shrugged.
“I was wondering,” continued Johnny, who then briefly hesitated as if afraid to go on, “if you … went to the bother because maybe you’ve began to … think seriously about me or was it because you too want to join in the fight for a bigger share of the country’s wealth going to the shop floor workers?”
Although there was no verbal response from Rachel, she was thinking. Hadn’t Johnny always been part of her life, ever since she’d come to stay at Couper Street? Never when she needed him had he let her down. She remembered so vividly how distressed he’d been when Auntie had sent her barefoot to beg Gabby for money for shoes. He’d even offered her his boots. She knew he was in love with her. Much to his sister Ella’s annoyance, he’d never had any other girl friends. The biggest plus for her in marrying him would be how delighted Auntie, who adored him, would be.
Rachel gave a little laugh as she remembered Auntie always saying that her Johnny’s wife may not always have something to eat but she sure would always have something to look at. It was true Johnny was entrenched in the union now and, even though joining it was not for her, she admired his commitment. He was, she accepted, the nephew of Anna and the son of Andy, who had always been champions of the poor, sick, downtrodden, overworked and depressed, so it was only natural that he would follow in their footsteps.
“Rachel,” Johnny interrupted into her thoughts. “I need to know … is there any chance for me?”
Acknowledging to herself that she loved him – she really did. But she also knew it was not the burning passion she’d had and still felt for Bud. Her love for Johnny was an enduring love – a love that had grown throughou
t the many years of friendship and trust. Nodding, she accepted she’d need to settle for that because that was the best there was ever going to be. “Please, God,” she silently prayed, “let it be enough to see us our whole lives through.”
Taking his hand in hers she said, “I do love you, Johnny. I always have and we will marry but …” Both she and Johnny now looked over to the bed and were relieved to hear the quiet gentle rhythm of Anna’s regular breathing.
“I know,” Johnny responded gently while squeezing her hand, “you have to see her safely over to the other side before we wed. I understand that and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Rachel reached up and took down a letter from the mantelshelf. “Haven’t told her about this yet,” she said, scanning the letter again.
“Aye, they say they’re gonnae demolish Couper Street,” Johnny looked up at the ceiling as if it was about to crash down about their heads. “But they havnae said when. Just sometime in the near future.”
Biting her lip, Rachel pondered before suggesting, “Aye, but seeing it’s the Edinburgh Corporation that could mean we could have maybe a year or two.”
“Or three or four,” suggested Johnny, who was torn between his urgent desire to marry Rachel immediately and his wish to hang on to his beloved Auntie for as long as possible.
Still in reflective mood, Rachel inhaled slowly before thinking out loud. “Whatever, but it will be far more time than she’s got and we have to be thankful that she won’t see this place where she reigned as queen reduced to a pile of rubble.” She sighed and had difficulty holding back the tears before saying, “Don’t know how I’d feel if this place, without Auntie in it, was no longer here. I remember the day I came here. I wasn’t her flesh and blood. She was under no obligation to take me in and provide for me.” Rachel gave a sly snigger. “And yeah, there were times I could have run away when Auntie would wander back to her crusade to get even with Gabby. But she kept me safe – gave me standards. Made me what I am today. Oh aye, I knew she was always here to run back to. The door to this house was always open.”
“Yeah, no matter the problem, or who had it, she’d find an answer or help out,” Johnny added wistfully. “She is the very best and she brings out the best in everyone around her. And sometimes all she had to support her in her quest to carry on was her undying faith.”
“Johnny, do you think that when we set up home there’ll be helpful folk around us like there’s here in Couper Street?”
“Of course there will. There’s an Anna, a wise woman, in every tenement here in Couper Street, Admiralty Street, East and West Cromwell Street and all the other streets. It’s a Leith thing. The poor and downtrodden helping each other along and we’ve all learnt from those wise women. They’ve taught us well. And when our bairns come along we’ll teach them that no one’s an island – we all need each other. And the best way to survive is being part of a community where we care for and support each other. That way we’ll keep faith with all the aunties, like Anna, and go forward and claim what is rightfully ours – a better and fairer society.”
Rachel didn’t respond. She was thinking that listening to Johnny’s rant was like listening to his father on his Saturday soapbox. What if Johnny was like his father and Anna? Would he sacrifice his immediate family’s wellbeing for the good of the community? Could she live with that? Bella had prophesised that she would have many children but she wasn’t Rosie. Oh no, if she was forced to scrub stairs it would be to put food in her own children’s bellies – they would always be her uttermost priority.
She had just decided to voice her concerns to Johnny when Anna called out, “Rachel.”
Immediately the urgency to challenge Johnny was lost and any doubts she had were forced to the back of her mind, and she earnestly prayed that she would never be given cause to resurrect them.
Also Available by Millie Gray
CRYSTAL’S SONG
IN A CLASS OF THEIR OWN
IN A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN
COPYRIGHT
First published 2012
by Black & White Publishing Ltd
29 Ocean Drive, Edinburgh EH6 6JL
www.blackandwhitepublishing.com
This electronic edition published in 2012
ISBN: 978 1 84502 447 5 in EPub format
ISBN: 978 1 84502 446 8 in Mobipocket format
ISBN: 978 1 84502 438 3 in paperback format
Copyright © Millie Gray 2012
The right of Millie Gray to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Ebook compilation by RefineCatch Ltd, Bungay