The Gourlay Girls

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The Gourlay Girls Page 14

by Margaret Thomson-Davis


  ‘How dae ye mean, hen?’

  ‘I wonder if poor Wincey was attacked before she came here. Remember how Florence found her crying in the street, poor wee soul. Maybe that’s why she was crying.’

  ‘Aye, right enough, hen. That’d explain a lot o’ things about oor Wincey, right enough. It must have been some swine o’ a man as well. She’s fine wi’ everybody else, but see if any man even looks at her in what she thinks is the wrong way, she either explodes wi’ anger at him, or gets off her mark, just like she’s done the night.’

  ‘Oh dear, poor Wincey. I wonder what we should do, Erchie.’

  Granny was quick to answer. ‘Keep yer neb oot o’ other folks’ business.’

  ‘How can you say that, Granny? Don’t you care about Wincey?’

  ‘Ah’m sayin’ that because ah know the chances are ye’ll just make things worse for Wincey. Ye’re mair likely tae frighten the life oot o’ her than be any help tae her.’

  ‘You don’t know that at all, Granny.’

  ‘Ah know,’ Erchie said. ‘How about askin’ the doctor for advice? That’s his job, helping folk.’

  ‘Huh,’ Granny snorted. ‘Wincey’s gonnae love the pair o’ ye fur that!’

  ‘Now, now, Granny. She doesn’t need to know. This would be a good chance tonight while she’s not here. I’ll have a quiet word with Doctor Houston. It can’t do any harm.’

  ‘Huh! Did ye come up the Clyde in a banana boat?’

  ‘Come on, Ma. Teresa’s just trying her best tae help Wincey.’

  It was then the door bell rang.

  ‘That’ll be him.’ Teresa rose in some agitation. ‘Should I take him through to the room, do you think? Have a private word there?’

  ‘Aye, you dae that, hen. Then Granny’ll no’ get the chance tae poke her nose in.’

  ‘Me! Poke ma nose in?’ Granny howled. ‘Whit dae ye think she’s doin’?’

  Teresa hurried from the kitchen.

  ‘Oh, come in, Doctor. Eh, would you mind coming through to the sitting room first? I’d like a wee word in private.’

  He made a gesture with one hand to indicate that Teresa should lead the way. Once in the room, Teresa sat down and asked him to do the same. For a moment, there was silence and then Doctor Houston said gently, ‘Would you like to tell me what’s worrying you, Teresa?’

  Teresa nodded. ‘It’s about Wincey.’

  ‘Oh?’ His expression, his whole body, tensed with interest. ‘What about Wincey?’

  ‘Well, it’s difficult to explain, and of course we could be wrong …’

  ‘About what, Teresa?’ he prompted.

  ‘Well, we’ve come to notice over the years that she keeps clear of men. Won’t have anything to do with them. She even dislikes my son-in-law, and a nicer man and a better husband to my daughter you couldn’t meet. The only man she gets on with is Erchie, but even he tells me he daren’t touch her, take her arm or anything. It seems to make her frightened.’ Teresa hesitated. ‘We’ve been wondering … We’ve wondered if she had a bad experience at some time in her young life.’

  Another silence followed. Then Doctor Houston said, ‘First of all, Teresa, can I ask how you came to know Wincey? She’s not a relation, is she?’

  Teresa shook her head. ‘Will you promise to keep this strictly between you and me, Doctor. She’d never forgive me otherwise, and maybe we’d lose her forever. I couldn’t bear that—she’s like a daughter to me.’

  ‘What passes between doctor and patient is always strictly confidential, Teresa. You have my word on that.’

  ‘Well,’ Teresa began unhappily, ‘years ago, Florence found her sitting in the street crying and brought her home with her. She said that Wincey’s mother and father had been killed in an accident and she’d nobody. So the authorities were going to put her in an orphanage—or the workhouse, Florence said. But I have to confess, Doctor, that Florence used to be troubled with a terrible imagination. She’s mostly grown out of it now but at the time—’

  ‘What did Wincey say?’ the doctor interrupted. ‘Did she go along with this story?’

  ‘The poor wee thing was in such a state, I think she would have agreed with anything as long as we didn’t put her out in the street again.’

  ‘And she’s never spoken about her background since?’

  ‘Not a word. She immediately clams up if we mention it, or ask her any questions. We’ve given up trying. We’re just glad to accept her as one of the family. But now we’re getting really worried about her.’ Teresa avoided his eyes for a moment. ‘If you’ll forgive me, Doctor, she seems to have got worse since you’ve been calling so often. Tonight she ran out in all this weather, just so that she wouldn’t be here when you arrived.’

  The doctor stared at Teresa in silence for what seemed a very long time. Then he said, ‘Leave this with me just now, Teresa. I’ll have to give this matter some serious thought, and also make a few discreet enquiries.’

  ‘Oh, Doctor, please don’t let Wincey or anybody … anybody,’ she repeated, ‘know anything about this.’

  ‘I assure you, you’ve no need to worry. I’ll be very discreet, very discreet indeed. Rest assured, Teresa, this is strictly between you and me.’

  Teresa sighed. ‘Erchie and Granny know I was going to talk to you. Erchie won’t say anything, but I’d better warn Granny.’

  Doctor Houston smiled. ‘Tell her I’ll pack her off to the hospital if she says one word. That’ll do the trick.’

  Teresa rose. ‘Thank you so much, Doctor. I feel a bit better now that I’ve confided in you.’

  He rose too. ‘I’d better say good evening to Granny. And I’d especially appreciate my usual cup of tea tonight.’

  ‘Come on through, then, and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Granny greeted him with, ‘Aye, well, huv ye had a good gossip then? Are ye gonnae interfere in Wincey’s life as well?’

  ‘I don’t gossip, Granny,’ the doctor said with the patient good humour he always showed the old woman, ‘and my concern is for the happiness and well-being of my patients, especially you.’

  ‘Aye, well, you watch ye dinnae open a can o’ worms that’ll destroy oor Wincey.’

  Doctor Houston gazed at her very seriously. ‘Granny, listen to me now. I’ll do nothing, nothing, do you hear, that would ever hurt Wincey in any way. Trust me. And I want to be able to trust you. I want you to promise me that you won’t mention to Wincey anything that’s been done or said in her absence this evening. It’s especially important that Wincey does not know that Teresa has spoken to me about her. Do you promise me?’

  ‘Aye, well, ah suppose so.’

  ‘Right.’ He smiled again. ‘Now, where’s my tea?’

  22

  Time passed and they heard nothing from Doctor Houston. Christmas came and went, then Hogmanay was nearly upon them and still he hadn’t made an appearance. There were no more visits, either to see Granny or for any other reason. They all wondered about this. Wincey thought, with a mixture of sadness and relief, that he had given up on her at last. Teresa, Erchie and Granny wondered if he was busy fmding out about Wincey’s past.

  Eventually Teresa asked the nurses when Doctor Houston was coming back to see Granny. The nurses said that they were to report regularly on Granny’s condition and if the improvements she was now enjoying ceased, or if in their judgement she needed a visit, they were to contact the surgery.

  ‘We haven’t of course, because Granny is so much better. All she needs is her present treatment to continue. Anyway, involving him would be a last resort as far as we are concerned. Doctor Houston has enough on his plate.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Teresa asked.

  ‘He’s had a very heavy workload because Doctor Houston senior became ill a while ago, and then started getting worse and worse. And well, I’m sorry to say he died yesterday morning.’

  ‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear that. We knew the old man was semi-retired but just thought it was his age. We’ve
known him for years. Oh, I am sorry.’

  ‘He wisnae a bad soul,’ Granny conceded, ‘but aw he ever asked wis …’

  ‘Yes, all right, Granny. We know all about that,’ Teresa hastily interrupted. ‘It’s a bad time of year to suffer a bereavement too. It won’t be a happy New Year for Doctor Houston.’

  As soon as Wincey came in from work, Teresa told her the news.

  ‘Such a nice old man too,’ she added.

  ‘Aye,’ Granny said, ‘but aw he ever did was ask if yer bowels had moved an’ stuck a—’

  ‘Yes, all right, Granny, you’ve told us that before.’

  Granny’s memory was beginning to fail her and she often forgot she’d already said something. Or she couldn’t remember what she wanted to say. But physically she was a good deal better. The swelling of her hands and feet had gone down and as a result she wasn’t in nearly so much pain.

  ‘Ah just wish ah’d got the son earlier. If ah had, ah might no’ huv been stuck in this chair the day.’

  One of the nurses said, ‘I believe Doctor Houston junior worked in the Royal before. He came into the practice to help his father once the old man began to go downhill.’

  ‘Actually,’ Wincey said, ‘I found out earlier on today. The obituary was in today’s Glasgow Herald. I was going to tell you.’

  The nurses were ready to leave. They had settled Granny in her hurly bed although it was, as usual, far too early for bed time. Granny had indignantly—and loudly—objected at first.

  ‘Ah’m no’ a wee wean that has tae be in bed the back o’ six o’clock.’

  ‘You can sit up in bed for as long as you like,’ the nurse told her, ‘but at least you’re in bed. This way it’ll save Teresa and Wincey struggling to undress you and get you down.’

  Granny grumbled and muttered, but eventually accepted defeat. The nurses had become too valuable and important in Granny’s life for her to want to cross them. Often she looked quite anxious if they were late in arriving. They came every morning to get her up and bathe her, and then every evening to settle her down. She even had once admitted to Teresa, ‘You aye did yer best, hen. Ah know that. But by Jove, them nurses really help me. They make me feel that much better. Ah don’t know what ah’d do without them now.’

  Tonight, however, she had been—as she told the nurses—‘black affronted’. ‘It’s Hogmanay. Ah cannae be sittin’ here in bed an’ aw ma clothes off when the first foots arrive.’

  ‘All the more need that we get you settled,’ the nurse said. ‘Nobody would be able to do anything for you by the time they have a few drinks. You’re wearing your nice shawl—you look flne.’

  And so Granny accepted defeat again.

  Teresa sighed. ‘It’ll kind of dampen any enjoyment of our Hogmanay thinking of the sad time it is for poor Doctor Houston.’

  ‘Och, he’ll huv his family around him for support,’ Granny told her. ‘An’ ah’m sure he widnae want us tae be down in the dumps. Our time’ll come soon enough.’

  ‘I don’t think he has any family. He was an only child, as far as I know. And his mother’s long dead.’

  ‘Och, there’ll be aunties an’ uncles an’ cousins. They aw come oot the woodwork at funerals. It wis the only time ah used tae see aw ma relations.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right, Granny. I wonder if I should ask Mr McCluskey to come in for a wee while. I feel sorry for him in this freezing weather. He has to sit out in that draughty close to have his smoke. I’ve asked him more than once to come in here to enjoy his pipe but I think he was frightened he’d get a row from her.’

  ‘Mind he did come in once,’ Granny said.

  ‘Yes, but she was away in town that day.’

  ‘Here,’ Granny suddenly chortled. ‘Ah could solve his problem. Aw he needs tae dae is get merrit tae me. Ah’d soon sort that wan oot.’

  Wincey laughed. ‘I believe you’d do it if you were given half a chance, Granny.’

  ‘Her trouble,’ Granny said, ‘is she cares more about her bloomin’ hoose than her auld father. Aye scrubbin’ an’ polishin’.’

  ‘I know,’ Teresa agreed. ‘I even saw her out the back sweeping the middens. And dusting the railings. Dusting the railings! Would you credit it?’

  Granny rolled her eyes.

  Teresa said, ‘Mrs Chalmers is coming and Davy and Jock from up the stairs. I asked young Mrs Beresford but she said she was going to stay with her folks over New Year. They come from somewhere over in the West End.’

  The mention of the West End startled Wincey but she managed to calm herself. Hundreds, if not thousands of people lived in the West End. Mrs Beresford’s parents would no doubt live in the tenements, not in one of the big villas. Also, Mrs Beresford hardly ever saw anyone in the Gourlay house, far less spoke to them, so how could she know about anybody’s background?

  ‘I think she must be a young widow,’ Teresa said, ‘and she’s had to go back out to work. She’s always dashing away, isn’t she? Never has time to talk.’

  ‘Or disnae want tae,’ Granny said. ‘Stuck up, probably.’

  ‘No, dear. I don’t think so. She’s got quite a nice smile. Just a bit harassed. I wonder what it is she does. Anyway, she’ll not be here for Hogmanay.’

  ‘Did ye warn Malcy nae tae first foot us, him wi’ his fair heid?’

  ‘Yes, don’t worry, Granny. He knows it’s bad luck. No, Davy from up the stairs is dark enough. I’ve told him to knock the door first.’

  Wincey was thinking that Malcy could bring them enough bad luck without being their first foot.

  ‘Well,’ Teresa said to Wincey. ‘We’ve had our tea, dear. Yours is in the oven. This is my day for acting house proud. That’s why Erchie is away out the road. It’s bad luck not to have everything spotless to greet the new year.’

  Wincey used a tea towel to lift her plate of stew and dumplings from the oven. Then she settled at the table to enjoy the meal.

  ‘Wait till I’ve finished this,’ she told Teresa, ‘and I’ll give you a hand. Although the place looks spotless already.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’ve cleaned and dusted the rooms and the lobby. But I’ve still this floor to scrub. I’ll leave emptying the ash pan to the last minute. Maybe you could do the brasses, dear.’

  ‘I could scrub the floor as well.’

  ‘No, no, dear. I’ll manage the floor. It won’t take a minute. But I must change that bed first. Could you go through and change yours?’

  ‘As soon as I finish my tea.’

  By eleven o’clock the house was sparkling and Teresa and Wincey had spread a crisp white tablecloth over the table and were now setting it with plates of fruitcake, cherry cake, Madeira cake, black bun and shortbread. Erchie was laying out the bottles and glasses.

  ‘Whisky for the men,’ he said, ‘an’ plenty beer. Sherry an’ gin for the women.’

  ‘I hope you’ve got soft drinks as well, dear.’

  ‘Soft drinks?’ Erchie cried out in disbelief. ‘Who’s goin’ tae want soft drinks?’

  ‘I mean to put in the gin, Erchie, like tonic water.’

  ‘Oh aye, ah’ve got some o’ that.’ He rubbed his hands in glee as he surveyed the table. ‘A good spread, eh?’ He turned to Granny. ‘You look grand as well, hen.’

  Granny’s hair was well slicked down and held in place not by her usual brown kirby-grip, but a fancy one with a sprinkle of tiny diamante. The new grip had been one of her Christmas presents from Wincey, who had also given her the beautiful crocheted shawl that was now draped around her plump shoulders.

  She looked pleased at Erchie’s compliment but she said, ‘But son, dae ah no’ look daft sittin’ here in ma bed? What’ll folk think?’

  ‘Och Ma, ye’re an auld woman, an’ ye’re no’ well. Everybody’ll just admire ye for bein’ sae spunky. Relax an’ enjoy yersel’.’

  ‘Aye, well, put another cushion at ma back, would ye?’

  ‘Sure, Ma.’

  The fire crackled brightly as they settled ar
ound it, all gazing up at the alarm clock on the mantelpiece as it ticked away the last few seconds of 1937. Then suddenly Erchie got up and rushed over to tug the kitchen window open. Everybody for miles around was doing the same thing, allowing the old year out and the new year in, and hopefully with it, good fortune. There were shouts of ‘A Guid New Year’ all around, both outside and inside the kitchen.

  The new year greetings inside the kitchen, however, could hardly be heard for the riotous sounds from the river of the ships’ hooters. Then there was a loud battering at the door. Teresa ran to open it wide and welcome in their first foot.

  ‘Davy, Happy New Year.’ She gave him a hug and a kiss. Davy grinned and blushed and handed over the lucky piece of coal, the packet of shortbread and his bottle of whisky.

  ‘No dear, you keep a hold of your bottle so that you can offer Erchie and the other men a drink from it.’

  ‘Oh, aye, right.’ Davy was obviously not very used to socialising. Either that or he was a bit shy. Or both.

  Behind him crowded Jock and Mrs Chalmers and, coming up noisily behind, Mrs McGregor from the old close, and Mrs Donaldson and her two plump bespectacled daughters, Mary and Joan, who were famous locally for their romantic but unintentionally hilarious duets. The merry crowd made for the kitchen where they knew the table would be loaded with the usual festive fare. Everyone made a great fuss of Granny and plied her with drink from each of their bottles. Soon Granny was insisting on treating the company to a song.

  As Erchie said next day, she was giving it such big licks, she nearly fell out of the bed. Even Wincey had become a little tipsy but, although she laughed with the rest and joined in the community singing, she felt secretly weighed down by sadness. She wondered how her mother and father would be bringing in the New Year and her brother and her grandmother. Normally she never allowed herself to think about them. Now she realised that although she had adopted a new family and loved them dearly, her feelings for her original family were still there, buried deep in her heart. She could have wept, yet no-one noticed that anything was wrong.

 

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