Wincey wondered how much money Malcy had bet at the races. No doubt a great deal. Surely Charlotte must realise now that Malcy was a compulsive gambler. At least Wincey hoped Charlotte wasn’t still fooling herself. For the sake of the business, Charlotte must see the danger that might lie ahead if she didn’t do something about Malcy.
Wincey tried to reason with herself that Charlotte would continue to think of the interests of the business, as she’d always done in the past. But at the back of her mind, there was a feeling of apprehension and worry. All she said to Teresa, however, was ‘Honestly, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.’ The last thing she wanted to do was to add to Teresa’s worries. Teresa had enough to do caring for Granny.
‘Do you think we’ll be able to visit Florence next week, Granny?’ she asked the old woman. ‘She’s looking forward to showing us all around her new house.’
Granny nodded. ‘Ah hope so, hen. Ah cannae thole tae be as bad as this for much longer.’ The only consolation Granny had was that when really bad attacks flared up, they usually only lasted for a few days before calming down again.
Florence and Eddie had managed to get a two-room and kitchen bottom flat in Second Avenue, Radnor Park, and they had been doing it up. No-one was allowed to visit until the house was looking the very best they could make it. They were terribly proud of it. The family had been invited for lunch the following Sunday. Up till now, it had always been ‘dinner’ in the middle of the day in working-class homes. But for some time now, Florence had—as Wincey could imagine Mrs Cartwright saying—‘ideas above her station’. The twins had become much the same. They both lived in Dumbarton Road now. They hadn’t managed to get houses up the same close, although they had tried hard enough, but their houses were only a few closes away from each other. Euphemia, now Mrs Grant, had a top flat. Bridget, now Mrs Ferguson, lived one up. Both had one-room and kitchen houses.
‘It’ll give you something to look forward to, Granny,’ Teresa comforted.
Wincey finished her stovies and began tucking in to her pudding. Immediately afterwards, she struggled into her coat again. ‘I’m away. See you later on.’
‘All right, dear.’
Hurrying towards the factory, Wincey wondered if she could discuss the problem about Malcy with Erchie. She decided against it. Erchie was friendly with Malcy, always had been, and Erchie himself enjoyed what he called ‘a wee flutter’. To criticise Malcy’s gambling could risk Erchie becoming defensive and thinking that she was also casting aspersions at his gambling. In truth, she didn’t mind in the least Erchie having his wee flutter, because that was all it was. He worked hard, earned his wages, and was entitled to spend them in whatever way he wished. They all contributed a share of their wages to the housekeeping, and what Erchie did with the rest of his own money was a matter for him and Teresa. Wincey had long ago insisted that she paid the biggest share because, after all, as a partner she had more money than him. She was too fond of Erchie now to risk offending him or making him feel guilty.
She was no sooner back at the factory office when a crisis erupted beside one of the machines. One of the women had tripped on something, and as she fell, her head banged against the comer of one of the tables. Her forehead was bleeding from a cut. It didn’t look very deep and the girl said she would be all right, although she looked very shaken. Wincey said, ‘It might need a few stitches. I’ll take you to the doctor.’
The girl protested that she didn’t want to go to the doctor’s, or to bother anyone, but Wincey insisted. ‘I’ve a prescription to pick up anyway.’ She fetched a towel from the office and told the girl to hold it against her forehead. Then she led the white-faced girl out to Springburn Road. The doctor’s surgery was only a few blocks away. Wincey had never had occasion to visit the surgery before but she had met the old doctor when he had visited Granny. Granny complained that all he ever did when anybody went to the surgery was ask them if their bowels had moved that day, then stuck a thermometer in their mouth. A receptionist led the girl into the doctor’s room. Eventually she re-emerged to join Wincey.
‘Gosh,’ she whispered. ‘You should see the handsome doctor. He gave me three stitches and I didn’t feel a thing. I was so excited.’
‘Handsome?’ Wincey echoed in surprise, remembering the white haired Doctor Houston.
Just then, the doctor emerged from the room, but it wasn’t the Doctor Houston she’d seen before. Wincey immediately recognised him, however, as the driver of the car which had nearly run her down. He was looking across at her, and she suddenly made up her mind. She went over to him.
‘I believe I owe you an apology. I was upset the other evening, and I behaved badly. I am sorry.’
He smiled with his eyes as well as his mouth. ‘Apology accepted, Miss—?’
‘Gourlay.’
‘Not one of the Gourlays of Gourlays’ factory?’
‘Yes, one of the Gourlays of Gourlays’ factory.’
‘How interesting. My father has quite a few patients from there. He tells me it has a very good reputation.’
‘Thank you. Are you Doctor Houston’s son then?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well, perhaps you could give me Mrs Gourlay senior’s prescription for painkillers, please. I promised I’d collect it.’
‘I’ll go and look it up.’
In a minute or two he’d returned with the prescription, but he said, ‘You can take this just now, but I think I ought to pay Mrs Gourlay a visit. She may need a change of medication.’
‘Oh?’ Wincey was taken aback. ‘She didn’t really ask for a visit.’
‘Nevertheless, I’ll call to see her this evening. I noticed by her record she lives quite near me. I’m round in Broomfield Road. I’ll call on my way home.’
‘All right,’ Wincey said uncertainly. ‘I’ll tell her to expect you.’
He stood watching her as she led the girl away. She could feel his eyes burning into her back. Suddenly she felt nervous and upset, but she didn’t know why.
20
‘It wasn’t the old doctor,’ Wincey explained to Granny and Teresa. ‘It was his son.’
‘Ye knew fine ah didnae want a visit.’
‘I told him, but he insisted. What could I do? He passes here on his way home, he said.’
‘Ah dinnae like the sound o’ him.’
‘He’s good looking, Granny. Strong chin and very dark eyes.’
‘Oh yes?’ Teresa laughed. ‘Are you sure it’s Granny he’s coming to see?’
Wincey’s heart began to thump but it wasn’t with pleasure. She didn’t want any man to be interested in her. She didn’t want anything to do with men. She could cope with them in the line of business, but that was all.
‘Here, Granny, would you look at her blushing,’ Teresa said. ‘Maybe she’s found a sweetheart at last.’
‘Teresa, don’t be ridiculous,’ Wincey snapped. ‘I’ve only seen the man once and he’s a doctor.’
‘A doctor’s still a man, dear, and you know you can call me a hopeless romantic if you like, but I do believe in love at first sight.’
‘For goodness’ sake,’ Wincey groaned, and left the kitchen.
In the privacy of her room, she took deep, calming breaths. There was absolutely no need for her to feel threatened, she kept telling herself. She had just managed to calm herself, and was on her way back to the kitchen, when the doorbell jangled. As she was nearest to the door, she was forced to go and open it. Doctor Houston towered in the doorway.
‘Good evening, Doctor,’ Wincey said stiffly. ‘Do come in.’
He followed her into the kitchen. ‘Mrs Gourlay senior and Mrs Teresa Gourlay,’ she introduced. ‘Granny, this is the doctor I was telling you about.’
Doctor Houston nodded a greeting to Teresa, then he went over to crouch down beside Granny and gently took one of her swollen hands in his. Then he looked down at her feet.
‘Your ankles and feet look awfully painful too, Mrs Gourlay.’
‘Och, ah’m sore aw over, Doctor. Even ma jaws. Ah cannae even eat wi’ ma teeth in nowadays. Ah cannae walk or do nothin’. An’ tae think ah wis aye that active. If ye’d seen me a few years ago, ye wouldnae huv recognised me.’
‘Yes,’ Teresa agreed, ‘Granny was out there marching behind Johnny Maclean. She was in the middle of the riot in George Square as well. You wouldn’t be born then, Doctor, but maybe you’d have heard of it.’
The doctor smiled. ‘Oh, I was born then, all right. And I remember it very well.’
Granny said, ‘It wis the polis that started the riot. They charged at a crowd of unarmed men, women an’ weans. But ah got a hold o’ wan o’ the polis an’ me an’ some other women stripped him naked. Mair than wan o’ the polis, in fact, by the end o’ it. By Jove, that done for them. They didnae know where tae put themselves.’
Doctor Houston laughed. ‘Good for you, Mrs Gourlay. I like a woman of spirit. Now, I’ll tell you what I’d like to do to help you.’
‘Och, ah’ve got a big enough stock o’ painkillers as it is.’
‘No, I didn’t mean that. There are other drugs. I’d like to try dealing with that inflammation in another way. There’s quite a variety of new treatments. I believe some of them would help you, including diets and special baths. But for that you really need to be in hospital and have full time supervision and nursing.’
Granny looked startled and frightened. ‘Ye’re no’ puttin’ me away intae any hospital. Ah’m stayin’ here in ma ain hame.’
Wincey said, ‘It wouldn’t be forever, Granny, and if it would really help you—’
‘You shut yer mooth. Ye’ve nae right. Ye’re no’ even a Gourlay.’
The doctor flicked a curious look at Wincey before saying, ‘Only for a few weeks. Think of the relief of pain. You’d be made so much more comfortable. I promise you, you’d be well looked after.’
‘Ma Teresa looks aifter me well enough. Ye wouldnae want tae get rid o’ me, would ye, hen?’
‘No, of course not, Granny. Nobody wants to get rid of you, dear.’ Teresa turned to the doctor. ‘I’ll do my best. She would be so unhappy away from the family.’
‘Well,’ Doctor Houston said reluctantly, ‘I still think she would be better in hospital. But if that’s how you both feel, I’ll write a prescription for the new treatment and I’ll pop in as often as I can to keep a check on her.’
‘Thank you, Doctor,’ Teresa said.
But Wincey detected a note of fatigue in Teresa’s voice and couldn’t help thinking that Granny was being selfish, expecting Teresa to cope with so much. It was bad enough with two of them—and often Erchie as well—struggling to lift and lay the old woman. Wincey made a decision.
‘Doctor, would it be possible for a nurse to come in, say a couple of hours—perhaps twice every day—to help Teresa. I could afford to pay for a nurse so there wouldn’t be a financial problem.’
Doctor Houston nodded. ‘Yes, that would be better. Leave it to me. I’ll arrange it as soon as possible.’
‘Dinnae bother askin’ me of course,’ Granny said. ‘Ah’m just a poor auld woman.’
‘It’s more for Teresa’s sake,’ Wincey said firmly. ‘She’ll be having to go to hospital soon if we go on much longer as we have been. She needs help.’
‘Aye, well …’ Granny said, slightly mollified. ‘For aw the help she gets frae you!’
‘Now, now, Granny. That’s not fair. You know fine Wincey does her best to help whenever she’s at home. She’s working all day, don’t forget.’
‘Aye, well …’ Granny muttered.
‘Two nurses would really be needed,’ the doctor said. ‘I was thinking especially of getting you in and out of the bath.’
‘Two nurses!’ Granny echoed incredulously. ‘Huv they nothin’ better tae dae?’
The doctor laughed. Then to Wincey he said, ‘Will that be all right with you?’
‘Yes, of course.’
At the outside door, he turned to Wincey and asked, ‘May I ask what relation you are to the Gourlays?’
‘I’m sorry. I’d rather not answer that question.’
The doctor shrugged. ‘Very well.’ But his eyes betrayed his interest. Wincey closed the door after he’d gone and leaned against it for a minute. Curiosity about her real identity was the last thing she wanted. She wished she’d thought of some imaginary explanation that he could have accepted, and then forgotten about. He looked a man who would not rest until he got to the bottom of any mystery, medical or otherwise. She felt annoyed, as well as afraid.
As if she hadn’t enough to worry her at the moment with Charlotte and Malcy. In the first place, Charlotte had taken a very large sum of money from the business in order to buy the villa in Broomfield Road. Renting a house wasn’t good enough for Malcy. Wincey hadn’t said anything at the time, for Charlotte’s sake. Charlotte had been so happy in her lovely home with her loving husband, and still was. But expenses of one kind or another were piling up, just as Wincey had always feared. A time would come when she’d have to say something, for the sake of the business if nothing else.
‘Well,’ said Granny, when Wincey returned to the kitchen, ‘ye’ve opened a right can o’ worms.’
Wincey secretly agreed with her but she was thinking of a different can of worms from Granny.
‘It’s a miracle ah’m no’ gettin’ pit away. If it had been up tae you, ah wid. Bad enough strangers invadin’ the house. God knows whit they’ll dae tae me.’
‘They’ll make you feel better and more comfortable, Granny,’ Wincey said. ‘And you’ll soon get to know them and look forward to their daily visits. Try to think of Teresa, Granny. If she loses any more weight, there’ll be nothing left of her.’
‘Aye, well …’
While Teresa was filling the kettle at the sink and Wincey was getting cups and saucers out of the press, Teresa whispered, ‘Thank you, dear.’
Wincey felt a wave of gladness then. She had done something that would, she felt sure, be of real help to Teresa. To herself too, of course. They both missed the assistance of Florence and the twins. Now, to come home from a hard day’s work every day to face the struggle of looking after all the old woman’s needs was proving to be extremely exhausting. It was far worse for Teresa, who was tied to Granny the whole day.
‘I see what you mean,’ Teresa said, as she poured the tea. ‘About him being good looking. If I was a bit younger I’d fall for him myself.’
‘I haven’t fallen for him,’ Wincey protested. ‘Will you get that idea out of your head. I’m perfectly satisfied and happy with my life as it is now. I like to be independent, and you’ve said yourself often enough in the past, I’m a loner. That’s exactly what I’d like to remain, Teresa.’
‘Yes, dear, you may believe that now. But one day you’re bound to—’
‘No, I’m not,’ Wincey interrupted. ‘Now, can we please change the subject.’
Teresa helplessly shook her head. ‘You’re a funny girl at times. Most girls would jump at the chance of a good looking doctor. He finds you attractive, dear. I could see.’
‘Teresa!’ Wincey groaned.
‘All right, all right,’ Teresa capitulated. ‘Not another word.’
They sat in silence for a minute or two, sipping their tea and gathering strength for the back-breaking task of getting Granny undressed, wheeled to the bathroom, lifted in and out of the bath, then lowered at last on to her hurly bed.
21
There could be no hiding from the fact that the doctor was going above and beyond the call of duty. He was visiting the Gourlay house practically every day on his way home. Erchie had eventually remarked, ‘Ah think he’s adopted this place as his second home.’ The doctor now regularly stayed to enjoy the cups of tea and home-baked scones that Teresa offered him. He now called everyone by their first names, except Granny, who was just Granny to everyone.
Teresa widened her eyes in mock innocence at Erchie’s remark. ‘I wonder why, Erchie. Is
it my scones, do you think?’
‘Aye, well,’ Granny said, ‘it’s no’ me. Ah hardly get a second glance noo. It’s time that you’—she glanced across at Wincey—‘woke up an’ put the poor fella oot o’ his misery.’
‘His misery?’ Wincey said. ‘He looks happy enough to me. And I never asked him to keep coming here. It’s ridiculous.’
‘Now, now, Wincey. Do you not think it could be you being ridiculous, dear? What can you possibly have against that nice, kindly, good looking man?’
‘Nothing. Nothing.’ Wincey cried out in desperation. ‘I just … I just can’t be doing with it.’
Seeing Wincey’s genuine distress, Teresa asked worriedly, ‘With what, dear?’
‘I can’t talk about it. I’m going out before he comes.’ She got up and went for her coat.
‘Wincey,’ Teresa called. ‘It’s blowing a blizzard. You can’t go out.’
But the front door had banged shut and Wincey was away.
Granny said, ‘There’s something far wrong wi’ that girl.’
‘I think you might be right, Granny. I’m really worried about her.’
Erchie said, ‘Aye, it’s no’ natural, the way she works aw the time an’ never goes oot tae enjoy hersel’ like other lassies. An’ ah’ll tell ye another thing—she cannae thole bein’ touched.’
‘How do you mean?’ Teresa asked in surprise. ‘I’ve never noticed anything different about her there. She’s always been very demonstrative with me. More so often than Florence or the twins. You’ve surely seen her giving me a hug often enough.’
‘Aye,’ Erchie said, ‘but no’ me. Huv ye ever seen her gie me a hug? An’ ah’ve long since learned no’ tae touch her. Even if ah put ma hand on her shoulder, she shrinks away as if ah’m gonnae attack her or somethin’. Even after aw this time an’ her knowin’ fine ah widnae hurt a hair on her heid, any mair than ah wid ma ain flesh an’ blood.’
‘I wonder,’ Teresa said thoughtfully, ‘if you’ve maybe solved the mystery there, Erchie.’
The Gourlay Girls Page 13