by Paul Kelly
“Bye Nathan ... Mrs. Harris See you next Saturday, Mrs. Harris ... Bye Rachael.”
“Bye Willie ...” they all said in chorus.
***
He tipped the smouldering ashes into the midden and the smell of the burning cinders swept through his nostrils as a little paper carton burst into a puff of flame, burned for a second and then went out again. He wondered about Rachael. No other girl made the same impression on him that she did. Moira McKenzie and Cathie Coutts were shadows of womanhood when he looked at Rachael Harris. She was becoming a fixture in his mind and he worried about Charlie. Rachael was Charlie’s girl. It was obvious when you saw them together although no-one ever said they were officially. If only Charlie would look at someone else ...If only ... Willie could see Rachael’s beautiful hair again as he began to dream and he touched it, defiantly, even if Nathan did look on. The touch was beautiful; sensual as he took her hair back from her smooth, olive skinned face to study her high cheek bones and those magnificent eyes. She gazed back at him tenderly and closed her eyes, waiting for him to kiss her ... and ...
“Willie, Willie ... the midden ... Look at the midden Willie. ...it’s on fire.”
Willie had been so absorbed in his dream and of his sensuous thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the fire that had started up in the galvanised steel waste bin. All the paper and other waste had caught fire with the hot ashes that he had deposited there and Wattie was beside him, looking on in fear, with his puppy dog in his arms.
“Stay there Florrie,” he gasped as he put the little bitch down on a nearby grass verge, safely away from the flames and placed a brick on the end of the piece of string he had around the puppie’s neck, to ensure that she wouldn’t run away. Florrie blinked and yelped, but she obeyed.
“I’ll help you put it out Willie. Let’s get some water quickly.”
They ran to the communal wash house, which was situated nearby in the back yard and doused the flames with buckets of water, passing each pail from one to the other until there was only a black, soggy, scraggy mess to be seen in the midden and finally a sudden hiss of steam.
“Thanks Wattie. I didn’t see that. I must have been thinkin’ ... Yes, that’s what it was, I was thinkin’.”
Wattie stood back and raised his shoulders to accept the appreciation from his friend. He loved it when Willie praised or thanked him for anything. Willie could do or say what he wanted to Wattie, but Wattie’s admiration was boundless endless and eternal ... Willie Blair was his hero and he could do no wrong. . and what’s more, Willie was thinking, so that could account for everything.
“What do ye think of ma wee dug, Willie? Isn’t she lovely?” Wattie asked as he lifted his canine friend who had been sitting shivering on the verge where he had left her and she kissed Willie’s nose.
“Where did you get it Wattie? It’s a wee bitch, isn’t it?”
Wattie was surprised that his friend could tell straight away, the sex of his new pet, but he sniffed and accepted that Willie had qualities of discernment that few others possessed.
“Miss Carson gave her to me,” he said with a ring of pride in his voice as the animal continued to kiss Willie’s nose and face. “Looks like she likes you,” Wattie added proudly, as Mrs. Harris appeared on the scene to investigate the smell of burning, so near to her home and to find that everything was by now under control. She stroked Florrie as she sat comfortably in Wattie’s arms, but the little dog snapped at her and tried to bite. Wattie was annoyed at the dog’s behaviour towards Mrs. Harris, but she wouldn’t hear of any complaint about the animal.
“He ... oh ... It’s a she, isn’t it?” she remarked, “Well, she doesn’t like cats, obviously, that’s all ...and she can smell my pussy.”
Willie blushed and looked the other way, but Wattie grinned in appreciation of the old lady’s understanding and they hurriedly left the midden precinct with Willie clutching the bitch, he had grabbed from his friend’s arms.
“What’s wrong with you, Willie Blair? Why are you laughing like that?” asked Wattie as they went on their way together.
“Nothing Wattie ... Nothing at all,” he answered but his face was red with his stifled laughter.
***
Willie’s fifteenth birthday came and went without incident. The war continued fiercely and the Germans were soon to master the human race according to a man called Adolf Hitler. He had already marched into Poland and it was reported on the wireless that he intended to invade the entire Continent with his troops before long. Churchill was fighting, ‘on the land, on the sea and in the air,’ and rationing was at last beginning to be accepted as the norm. Black market dealings were everywhere and the wide-boys made a packet. Chocolate was a thing of the past and someone’s brother in the Forces had brought back a banana from somewhere in the Middle East, although no-one knew exactly from where in that Region. Nor would anyone dare ask .for careless talk costs lives but it had caused no end of a stir with excitement. Life was simple and frugal and excitements were rare, except for the ones that nobody wanted. London was being bombed day and night without mercy, but the morale of the Cockney was firm and he still sang proudly of his Lambeth Walk and proclaimed, if somewhat tearfully, that Jimmy would go to sleep one day, in his own little room again. A woman called Vera Lynn sang of ‘The white cliffs of Dover’ with a lilting cry in her voice and apart from a bash or two at the Docks of Clydebank, Scotland had been lucky. Maybe this Hitler fellow liked the kilt.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlie and Rachael walked hand in hand through the snow, but neither spoke. The thin, transparent snowflakes fell lightly on their shoulders as they moved under the darkened overhead sky, where here and there a bright little star blinked her life away. It was a quiet evening and the streets were bare except for a few people making their way home from work and anxious to get into the warmth of a cosy, welcoming fire and make their preparations for Christmas. The windows were covered with black-out materials and tapes to ensure that glass would not fly about if broken by the effect of a stray bomb. Air Raid Wardens were alert at their various unobtrusive posts and peace appeared to be everywhere, if the atmosphere was of War. The celebrations were going on, regardless as people prepared for the birthday of their Creator and War was put to one side for the time being.
Charlie looked down into Rachael’s face and touched her cool cheek with eager, tender fingers as she drew closer to him and closed her eyes, happily.
“What will happen if I’m not exempt from the Forces, Rachael?” he asked as he raised his sights to the sky, “I may have to leave the building site, since I’ve only been a short time there and I think you have to have worked on a site for over three years before they will consider exemption.”
Rachael reached up and touched his cheek in return. She looked longingly into his eyes as she placed a light kiss on his warm lips.
“We’ll think of that when we have to, Charlie meanwhile, why don’t you invite me to your party?”
Charlie smiled at the thought.
“You don’t have a party at Christmas time, do you?” he asked, “I’ve never heard of a Yiddishe Christmas.” Rachael smiled and shook her head as he continued to tease her. “I don’t think my mother would approve of such a wanton woman in her house, do you?” he added gleefully and tickled her nose with his own.
“You can tell your dear Mamma that I can’t keep away from you, Charlie Blair and tell her also that I think I love you but just a little.”
“Just a little ... Is that all?”
“Well yes, for the time being, but I think it will not be too long before that little becomes well, never mind. Just tell her anyway ... Yes?”
Charlie threw back his head and laughed and his teeth sparkled as the moon suddenly appeared from behind a large feathery cloud, casting its rays over the earth, like a mantle of peace. A snow flake fell from his lashes and
he blinked as he began to speak again, louder this time and a voice shouted somewhere nearby, “SHUT UP” They walked on a little further and he glided Rachael, gracefully through the snow into a small alcove between the baker’s shop and the fruiterers.
“That’s nice. You’ll just about be able to fit in there,” he said and squeezed her into the magical space he had discovered, pressing himself against her.
“What shall we do now?” he whispered as he smothered her forehead in kisses and stroked her hair away from her face.
They stood together, closely just looking at each other in the shadows, with only the glow of the moonlight.
“I love you, Charlie Blair,” she said softly and he pressed his lips to hers before she could say any more. They lingered in the silence of the evening, with only a child crying somewhere in the distance to disturb their dream.
“I adore you Rachael Harris,” he murmured in her ear.
“Well, that’s alright then,” she said.
***
Mary Blair and Aggie were waiting for the rest of the family, as they sat together sanctimoniously in preparation for their visit to Midnight Mass. Mary hoped that they would all be able to attend that Mass as a family, for as long as they could arrange it, as she was aware that now the war was on, her sons could be separated from her at any time
She knew also that her daughters were fast becoming young women and that courting days would soon be with them and she clung on to the hope that her youngest, Willie would be with her for the foreseeable future. After all, Churchill had said that the war would be over in a year, hadn’t he?”
***
Sadie rushed in, gasping for a glass of water. She was on one of her many diets, but water was O.K. at any time and Mary frowned as she watched her daughter gulp the clear liquid, as delicately as she could, with her pinkie in the air, as she knew ladies always did. She was wearing too much make-up for Mary’s satisfaction, but then, the younger generation did that sort of thing, she thought and hurried to wash the lipstick from the rim of the glass as soon as Sadie waltzed off to fix her face in the large mirror above the fireplace.
Aggie sat waiting patiently, with a patience that would have put Job to shame as Meggie came into the room looking flushed and flustered.
“Mammy ...can we invite who we like to the party?” she asked breathlessly
Mary was startled for a moment at the sudden gush of kindness that had come over her excited daughter.
“Well, of course you can, Hen, but remember we only have a very wee house and we’ll no’ get many people into our small rooms.
Meggie blushed as she tidied herself for Midnight Mass, singing nervously as she brushed her hair.
‘Red sails in the sunset, way out on the sea ...’
She sang as Mary looked on with a very concerned eye.
‘Oh carry my loved one home safely to me ...’
Mary Blair wondered what to expect next, but Willie interrupted her thoughts.
“Where’s Charlie?” he called out and Sadie took time off from plucking her eyebrows to answer him rather sarcastically, side-glancing at her profile in the mirror.
“We all know where he’ll be, don’t we ...down or around the Synagogue, no doubt,” she muttered as she returned to her eyebrows with renewed vigour. She rubbed her lips together to distribute her lipstick evenly and cocked her head to one side with an air of satisfaction. “There ...that’ll do me now,” she said contentedly.
“Mammy, do you think anything will come of that relationship?” asked Meggie as she slipped into her blue coat; the one with the black astrakhan collar.
“Well, I don’t really know,” Mary answered, “But Charlie’s a good boy and he knows what he’s doing.”
“But Mammy, she’s a Jew,” said Sadie with an arrogant sniff as she continued to admire herself in the mirror, but Willie was displeased at her attitude.
“Pity she’s an Old Tin Can then, isn’t it? Changed days when I said she was a Jew, isn’t it? Everybody jumped on me.
“Willie, that’s enough from you,” Mary remonstrated, “I don’t want to hear talk like that in this house, do you understand? . . . and Sadie You should know better.”
Willie lowered his head and picked at his finger nails.
“Och! She doesn’t know anything,” he grunted,” and I didn’t really mean it Mammy. She rather a nice wee Tin can ... actually.”
Mary jumped up from where she was sitting.
“I said that’s enough William Blair. Now get yourself ready for Midnight Mass before you get the back of my hand round your ear.”
Meggie giggled and shrugged her shoulders lightly.
“I think our Willie fancies Rachael, Mammy,” she said but Willie was quick to return his denial of her statement.
“I DO NOT ...” he asserted firmly, but his young heart knew he had told a lie as he stood with his fingers crossed behind his back. Only Aggie saw the procedure, from where she sat quietly, simply looking on, but Sadie would not leave the matter.
“Look Mammy He’s blushin’ ...Look at him blushin’ ... Willie loves Rachael, Willie loves Rachael ...Sadie began to sing.
“Oh! For goodness sake, let’s have some peace in this house,” cried Mary, “It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense nor any more of this old Tin Can stuff either. We are all God’s creatures So, No more of it, do you hear?”
With that final word, Willie left the house with the Blair ladies, to attend the Holy Sacrifice of the First Mass of Christmas.
“I don’t give a damn that she’s an old Tin Can,” he said quietly as he looked up at the dark, blue velvet sky, where the moon was pushing her way through a scattering cloud. “I think she’s lovely and as for Charlie ...well, he’s a lucky sod that’s what I think.”
***
All through the Mass Willie was distracted, thinking about Rachael Harris. His fertile imagination began to picture the children that she and Charlie would have and he shuffled angrily in his pew.
“Funny if they had a wee blonde Jew,” he murmured, unaware that he was being overheard nearby, by his best friend, Wattie who had managed to get a seat next to his Hero for the Mass. Wattie was concerned and he had a worried look on his face.
“Do ye want tae go, Willie?” he asked, “I don’t think they have any lavvys in the chapel, do they?”
“No, ah don’t want tae go and there’s nae bloody lavvys in the chapel, so SHUT YER MOOTH, will ye.”
***
Aggie’s composure was entire. She knelt erect and looked bravely at the High Altar with unblinking eyes that burned with love. Her thoughts were so different from her siblings, as she imagined herself to be up there in that cup, with her Lord and Saviour. She wanted only to be His and His alone, whatever the consequences and all the rest of the trimmings were futile to her mind, without Him. Her heart yearned to become a Bride of Christ and a silent tear slid down her smooth, flushed cheek.
***
Willie filed past Wattie as they went forwards to Communion, following the girls, in their Sunday best.
‘Corpus Domini nostrae Jesu Christie,’
Each in turn stuck out their tongue to accept the Host; a warm, soft cushion for the Child Christ to rest on.
‘Custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternum. Amen.’
When the priest had distributed the Sacrament, all returned to their seats, but Willie looked up on his was back as Charlie walked past him and winked irreverently. He had not known that his brother was coming to the Midnight Mass, owing to his other ‘distractions’ but as Charlie received Holy Communion and made his way back through the body of the church, Willie could see Rachael waiting at the large entrance door at the back. She was smiling at his brother and looking lovelier than ever and when Charlie reached out to take her hand and guide her
into a seat near the door, where they could sit quietly on their own, Willie squirmed. He shuffled uncomfortably where he sat, but before Wattie could ask any further questions of concern for Willie’s comfort, he answered boldly ‘NO’
“Wish ah could be a priest,” Wattie sighed and wiped his nose again on his sleeve.
***
Both the priests of the Parish were at the end of the church to wish the adorers a Happy Christmas and every blessing in the New Year as they trudged into a fresh downfall of smooth-lying snow and made their way home. Mary was thrilled to see Rachael and insisted that she should come home with them for coffee and mince pies and the young Jewess was delighted to accept her offer. She took Mary’s arm as they walked home and Mary was happy. She did not understand exactly why she should be but she was and she glanced proudly towards Charlie as she watched him walk so resolutely and upright through the snow, making his very own imprints on the virgin blanket. She tightened her arm against Rachael’s and smiled. The night was cold and a wind was blowing up, but Mary Blair’s heart was warm and her God was in His heavens, watching over her flock
‘Gloria in excelsis Deo ... Et in terra pax hominibus’
Men were still fighting at the war and killing each other without reason. Men killed boys and boys killed men and simply because they were of a different nationality, but it was all too confusing for Mary to understand. It was simply incomprehensible and she prayed that night that cold, holy night, for her family for Charlie and Willie, for Aggie, Sadie and Meggie. She prayed for peace on earth and good will to all men, but she prayed in particular for a certain butcher that she had come to know so well and for the young and beautiful Jewess who clung so tightly to her arm as she walked.