A Cut Above

by Millie Gray

  ‘I hope this means that Drew is dead – that someone had the guts to kill him!’

  ‘I am not saying that he is still alive, but he was when we dumped him.’

  Before anything further could be said, the conductor opened the door and called, ‘Tickets please!’

  Both Robin and Ewan immediately handed over their tickets for inspection. Looking down at the two tickets, the conductor frowned before saying, ‘This is a first-class carriage, but this’ – the inspector waved one of the tickets in the air –‘is not a first-class ticket.’

  Ewan, who had stood up when the conductor had entered, flopped down on the couch and started to laugh uproariously. ‘Now does that not just say it all?’ he spluttered. ‘Here I am, with a degree from the University of Edinburgh and certificates to say that I am qualified to practise medicine, and I can only afford a third-class ticket, whilst my oldest friend can afford to travel first class.’

  ‘Yes sir, I accept that, but as you are occupying a seat that you did not upgrade to, I will have to issue you with a fine.’

  Robin was now on his feet. ‘Look,’ he said to the conductor, ‘you know me. I travel this route regularly. My friend jumped on board the train as it was leaving King’s Cross, and I pulled him in here.’ He took his wallet from his jacket and pulled out a note, which he pressed into the conductor’s hand. ‘You take this, and I can assure you that in half an hour’s time my friend and I will be in the dining car. I imagine we will finish our journey to Edinburgh there.’

  The conductor nodded. ‘No offence, Mr Dalgleish, I didn’t know the gentleman was a friend of yours. But even if I did, I was only doing my job.’

  When the excited conductor had closed the door behind him, Robin began to laugh again. ‘Well, at least that took our minds off Freda’s . . .’

  The mention of Freda’s name caused the smile on Ewan’s face to die. He was awash with guilt, because there had been times when he had thought badly of Freda. He gulped, thinking back to an incident he had dealt with as a junior doctor. He had attended to a young girl in Accident and Emergency, who had been brought in after a rape. He would never forget that lassie’s anguish and pain, and the way that she screamed in terror when any man, even a male doctor, came anywhere near her. And now, to discover that Freda had been through the same thing! He felt awful. On the plus side, at least she and Robin had made a go of things. He pondered. There were elements of the story of what happened to Drew that made him question whether Robin had imparted the whole truth. Exactly how badly hurt had Drew been, and who had inflicted the injuries on him?

  *

  ‘Mummy, we are going to be late and it is all Harry’s fault,’ Jackie, who was standing at the outside door ready to go to her first day at school, moaned.

  ‘Harry, we have to get a move on!’ Freda shouted through the open back door to Harry, who was down at the rabbit hutch.

  ‘I know, Mum, I was just reminding Bugsy that I won’t be here to let him out to play today but he will get a long, long run about the garden when I come home.’

  Freda put her hand over her mouth and sniffed as tears welled. How, she wondered, could I have rejected Harry when he was first born? There was nothing of his biological father in her gentle, sensitive boy. Today he was going to school. Freda was so glad that both he and Jackie had passed for Leith Academy Primary School. This was not because it was a fee-paying school – after all, you could hardly say that the token fees of twelve pounds a year were onerous – it was because their intake number meant that they had two classes starting today. This being the case, she had asked that Jackie and Harry be put in separate classes. She knew that if Harry were in a class with Jackie, he would never get out from under her domination. Freda squirmed as she remembered when they had gone to sit the test for admission. The infant-school mistress had floated down the corridor, her black academic gown flying around and scaring Harry, who had whimpered and tried to hide himself away in Freda’s skirt. Today she hoped that the infant-school teachers would not be dressed in black gowns, so that Harry would be able to see that they were human beings and not Wicked Witches of the West like he thought the infant-school mistress was.

  Robin had already said goodbye to the children, assuring both of them that they looked so very smart in their royal-blue blazers. He had hesitated when leaving, because he wished to go with them to the school, but Freda had said, ‘No. The other children will only have their mothers there and we don’t wish to seem overprotective.’

  That all being so, there was nothing left for Freda to do now but, as she was now a competent driver, get the children into the car and drive down to the school.

  On arrival at the school gates, Freda was surprised to see Hannah there. But then again, why should she be? After all, Hannah had played such a big part in the children’s lives from the day they were born.

  ‘Why are you not working today?’ she asked Hannah.

  ‘Told my boss that I had an early appointment with the dentist,’ Hannah teased, waggling her tongue around her lips.

  Freda playfully nudged her. ‘You’re a lying hound.’

  ‘Not really. I didn’t actually tell him I was going to the dentist. I told him how much I would like to see the kids going into school on their first day and Jim, being the sweetie he is, said I could come into work about eleven.’

  ‘Here,’ Freda began, as she tucked her arm through Hannah’s, ‘I meant to ask you about this Jim Baxter that you seem to like so much . . . Has he a mother?’

  ‘No. He did, but she is dead now.’

  ‘Good. So, now that you have transferred to the personnel department, is he a possible . . . ?’ Freda pulled a face, widening her eyes.

  ‘No. He hasn’t a mother alive, right enough, but he does have a healthy and breathing wife!’

  ‘So what’s the attraction?’

  ‘He encourages his staff to get on and he’s a nice guy to everyone.’ Now, it was Hannah’s turn to tease. ‘In my case, he has given me day release so that I can go to Napier College and study for an IPM.’

  ‘What’s that? I hope it’s not infectious!’

  Hannah gave a smug smile. ‘It’s a qualification. Institute of Personnel Management. When – or if! – in two years I am awarded that qualification, I could become the personnel manager for one of the departments in the Edinburgh Corporation.’ She chuckled. ‘Imagine it! I would be the first woman to be employed in such a role.’

  Before Freda could reply, she looked beyond Hannah and gasped. ‘Well, well, if it isn’t the dynamic duo.’ She turned Hannah around, to show her what she was seeing.

  ‘Oh Freda, isn’t that just lovely?’ Hannah said. ‘Your mum and mother-in-law have come to see the children off.’

  If the sight of the two women was not enough to make Freda sigh in exasperation, spotting Stevie and Robin trailing behind them certainly was.

  Hannah pointed. ‘Look, Freda, their grandad and dad have come too.’

  Freda slumped against the wall, her body shaking with laughter. ‘Methinks,’ she drawled, ‘I should have sold tickets for this event – I could have made a fortune, so I could.’

  *

  Four weeks later, when Freda was cashing up the shop on Friday evening, she was surprised to hear someone knocking on the door. Being wary, she slammed the till shut and, before she advanced to open the door, lifted one of the handheld hairdryers. Swallowing hard, she put the security chain on the door before opening it just a fraction.

  ‘Freda, please take the chain off and open the door wider,’ a male voice pleaded. A foot was placed in the small opening, preventing her from closing the door. The voice said, ‘It’s Ewan. I wish to talk to you.’

  ‘There’s nobody else here, so you will have to come back tomorrow,’ Freda responded hurriedly.

  Ewan sighed and winced as the door was pushed harder against his shoed foot. What was he to do? He now realised that he had been stupid. He should have telephoned Freda last night to tell her that he w
ould be calling on her this evening. Ever since Robin had told him of her ordeal, Ewan had been unable to get her out of his mind. He kept seeing her battered face and in his sleep he would hear her cry out in agony. He reckoned that her reluctance to allow him into the salon was because she was nervous now to be alone with any man.

  A police constable on the beat arrived on the scene, putting Ewan at a further disadvantage.

  ‘Problem, sir?’ the bobby asked. As if by magic, upon hearing his voice Freda took the chain off the door and opened it wider.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Constable Smeaton. Why don’t you come in and have a cup of tea or coffee?’

  Ewan did not wait to be asked in. Before Freda and the constable had time to stop him, he settled himself in one of the chairs.

  ‘Now, is it tea or coffee?’ Freda asked the constable.

  Constable Smeaton shook his head. ‘It’s my break-time right enough, Mrs Dalgleish, but one of the other cops brings in a fish supper and we divide it between us. But, before I go, do you wish me to see this gentleman off the premises?’

  ‘Oh!’ exclaimed Ewan. ‘Are you saying that you do not recognise me?’

  The constable peered at Ewan, before exhaling and holding out his hand to him. ‘Sorry, Dr Gibson, I didn’t recognise you. Mrs Dalgleish, no need for you to worry – this is one of the doctors we call out to test our drunk drivers.’

  The door had just closed shut on the constable, when Freda said, ‘I know you mean no offence, but could you just leave? Anybody passing by could look through the window and get the wrong impression.’

  ‘Freda, just calm down and relax. You know that I mean you no harm. It is just that since I travelled up from London with Robin—’

  ‘My blabbermouth husband had no right to tell you what he did.’ Freda was now running her fingers through her hair, her lips quivering. ‘It is my sorry tale to tell and mine alone. Believe me, I have only trusted one person with the sordid details.’

  ‘Hannah?’

  ‘Yes, Hannah. When we were naïve nineteen-year-olds, she confided in me about her own painful secret, which built a special bond between us . . . When I required a shoulder to cry on, who else could I possibly have turned to?’

  ‘You could have come to me! I would have helped you all I could.’

  Freda’s derisive laughter echoed around the room. ‘Now, let me guess . . . you would have recommended a good gynaecologist so I could abort my children?’

  ‘Perhaps. I may have suggested that as one possible solution, but I could also have offered to . . . to marry you.’

  ‘Marry me? And what would Angela and your mother have said about that?’

  ‘It would have been none of their business. I love you, I always have,’ Ewan said emphatically.

  ‘I am sorry about that,’ Freda retorted, ‘but at that horrible time I hated every man I knew. I loathed myself – and I still do, because I wasn’t strong enough to stop what happened to me!’

  ‘You hated every man?’

  ‘Well, obviously not my grandad, my brother or Robin,’ she grudgingly conceded.

  Time ticked slowly by. Ewan still sat in the chair whilst Freda stood rigidly, supporting herself against the far wall.

  When he could stand the silence no longer, Ewan pleaded, ‘Freda, I am here tonight to ask you if you think we have any future together.’

  ‘How could we? I am married to Robin, who was my rock to cling on to when I was in a rough sea and drowning. We made a pact to wed and stay married to each other no matter what. My children think – no, they know – that he is their supportive, loving father. I refuse to do anything that might put their trust in Robin and I in jeopardy.’

  ‘Couldn’t we even have an arrangement like Robin and Billy? No one knows why he goes to London once a month.’

  Before he could go on, Ewan was interrupted by the crash of a hairdryer bouncing off the large mirror behind him, thrown at him from across the room.

  ‘That insulting proposal has just helped me better understand what poor Hannah has had to endure. Men only think about getting women into bed. Well let me tell you, Hannah and I have reached the age of twenty-five and we are still virgins!’ Catching sight of Ewan’s confused expression, Freda continued, ‘Yes, I know what you’re thinking, but when I was raped I was unconscious. Never have I made love to someone who loved me. To someone who valued me.’

  ‘I can understand why you do not accept anyone’s advances, but what about Hannah?’

  ‘Beautiful, graceful, elegant, intelligent Hannah is like me, in the sense that she was short-changed.’

  ‘Short-changed? Surely she wasn’t also—’

  ‘No, not that – although it has been traumatic for Hannah too, in it’s own way. You see, she was short-changed at birth. Nature decided not to give her a uterus and, as if that injustice was not enough, it also threw in an undeveloped vagina. Now, since you are a high and mighty doctor, I’m sure you will agree that such an affliction often results in death to romance.’ Freda’s voice was cracking with emotion. ‘Do you know how many times I have had to wipe away Hannah’s tears after a courtship that seemed to be going right ended up with her being dumped because she could not easily . . . well you must know what? ’

  The clock slowly ticked the minutes away. Ewan was in a dilemma. He had come to Freda in the hope that he could persuade her to develop a relationship with him. A relationship that he hoped would, in time, see her and Robin divorcing so that she could marry him. He now knew he must accept that Freda was damaged by what had happened to her and no longer trusted any man who made advances to her. She had also made it very clear that she would never break her arrangement with Robin. Theirs was a bond that could not be broken. Freda was willing to sacrifice the possibility of a happy relationship with Ewan, because it would endanger the feeling of security that the children enjoyed with her and Robin as their parents.

  Rising up from the chair, he accepted that he must go. He had made a complete mess of trying to tell Freda that he loved her, that he wished to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her, that he would have accepted anything – even an arrangement like Robin and Billy’s – just as long as she was in his life. He saw now that it could never be. Freda had her standards and her loyalty was to her children – and indeed also to Robin, who had picked her up when she was broken into pieces and put her back together again. For Robin, their arrangement meant that he was safeguarded from intolerance and bigotry. Ewan knew that his hopes were futile: Freda and Robin were a solid and unbreakable partnership.

  *

  Eight weeks later, Ewan had still not accepted that he and Freda had no future together. Her rejection left him feeling awful, and he found his thoughts turning to Angela – Angela, who for years had waited so patiently for him to show even the slightest interest in her. Ewan decided that he would contact her and invite her to partner him at a friend’s wedding the following week.

  At the reception, Angela was so eager to please Ewan that she outshone the bride. Naturally, Robin had done her hair and make-up and he had excelled. Her fuchsia-coloured dress and matching coat screamed class and were evidently from a designer shop on George Street. However, it was not the make-up or the fancy clothes that made Angela glow . . . No, it was the belief that Ewan had finally realised he should be courting her.

  It was true that Ewan went out of his way to woo Angela at the wedding; she couldn’t believe that at last her dreams were coming true. When the dancing stopped and it was time to head home, Ewan, being the gentleman that he was, escorted Angela all the way to her front door. However, when she winked sensually at him and invited him in for a nightcap, he seemed to be repulsed at the idea.

  ‘Eh, eh,’ he stammered, ‘I’ll pass this time.’

  Angela’s face contorted and Ewan felt awash with guilt because he had obviously hurt her, just like Freda had wounded him. He hurriedly added, ‘But, you know, things change . . . Maybe sometime in the near future, when I have got my mind
sorted out, we can catch up again and we’ll . . .’ He stopped to meditate, before adding, ‘Que sera, sera.’

  It would have been kinder to harshly slap her on the mouth. In response to his rejection, the colour drained from Angela’s face and her breath came in short pants, profuse tears splashing down her cheeks. She was so gutted that she made no attempt to cover up her distress. She finally realised that the dream she had pursued since the age of eleven would never ever come to fruition. Finally she mumbled, ‘Catch up again, Ewan? Now why on earth would I wish to do that? No, my dear, as far as I am concerned you are yesterday’s dream – or should I say nightmare!’

  She turned and, moments later, Ewan had another door kicked shut in his face.

  Ten

  October 1973

  Freda had just returned home from the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh when Hannah, who had been babysitting the children, asked, ‘How is your mum?’

  ‘She has broken her right femur. They said they would take her into theatre tonight to set the bone, and then in a few days’ time she will be allowed home.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Hannah replied, before cautiously asking, ‘and what about the cruise that you two are due to go on next weekend?’

  ‘Well, she won’t be able to do that, will she?’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I suppose I will have to forget it too.’

  It was just then that Robin arrived home. ‘How’s your mum?’ he asked Freda.