by Paul Kelly
“Oh! Gawd, I give up ...”
The Band disbanded and trudged homewards smelling like a sewer, picking lumps of month old rubbish and other things from their fine Sunday clothes.
‘O Salutaris Hostia, quae coeli pandis hostium’
came the plaintive strains from the church, oblivious of the battlefield outside and the singing from the congregation seemed to hold Benediction for the sole benefit of the Orange Walk which had so courageously battled on through the mire and only gave up when they were unable to stand. Incidentally, Maggie never did wait for the Polis ...
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rachael and Nathan waited patiently at the gates of platform nine and the train was already forty minutes late according to the arrivals board, which meant that the night train from London should arrive in five minutes. Nathan thought of what his parents would look like, as he hadn’t seen them for over two years. Would they be different, he thought after all he was different, wasn’t he? He was nearly a man. The thin, dark down on his upper lip would soon have to be shaved and his boyhood would have gone forever. Yes, he was on the brink of manhood and he stood tall and excited as he waited. Rachael too was excited, but her thoughts were more occupied with a young blond bricklayer and this tempered her enthusiasm somewhat; nevertheless she had butterflies in her stomach. She loved her parents and she loved Charlie, but her parents were Jewish and Charlie wasn’t ... Rachael began to wonder what her father would think of his Magic Princess now, as she still thought of him as her liege ... Oh! Dear ... the games they used to play ...
The train could be seen rounding into the platform as scheduled and the shrill whistle warned its arrival as it slowly chugged its determined way into platform nine at the Station.
Chugg, Chugg, Chugg ... It arrived at last and came to a steaming, hissing halt.
People were coming from all directions to meet the passengers and it seemed to the two young visitors to Glasgow that the Central Station had never been so crowded. Rachael scanned the faces of the travellers as they alighted. Everyone seemed to be in uniform, both men and women and even the youths wore some sort of army cadet uniform. Only a thin trickle of civilians was apparently conspicuous, by its minority.
“Father ... Father! Look Rachael.... There he is,” Nathan screamed and his sister strained against the barrier to look where he had pointed, but it was a false alarm.
“Are you waiting for me?”
A voice spoke softly above the noise of the crowd and Rachael spun round and Major Samual Harris of the Royal Corps of Signals was waiting with his arms outstretched to greet his daughter. He looked elegant in his uniform with his Sam Brown belt, highly polished and gleaming across his shoulder.
“Oh! Daddy ...Daddy,” she could say no more. Her tears choked back her words as she hugged him, but Nathan asked enthusiastically, “Where is Mamma?” as he came forward to greet his father.
“There she is ...”
Miriam Harris stood a little way from her children just to watch their reaction when they saw her and tears of joy ran down her face as Rachael came forward and clutched her tightly.
“Mamma, I’ve missed you so much...You and Daddy.”
“I’ve missed you too, Darling. Have you both been keeping well? Are you warm enough? It’s very cold up here in Scotland, isn’t it?” She looked at Nathan and he smiled shyly.
“Would this young man care to kiss a dear old lady?” she mused, but Nathan was completely taken by surprise and he crimsoned as she spoke.
“Mamma, you’re lovely... you’re not old ... You are absolutely ...” Nathan paused for a moment before he continued ... “beautiful ...” he added and blushed again. He had never before noticed just how beautiful his mother was and he blushed continuously as he kissed her and held her hand, looking around and hoping that someone would observe his actions. After all, he was nearly a man. He had grown so tall in the past few years and here he was, standing in a railway station, kissing a beautiful lady. That was man’s stuff. The four figures hugged and kissed each other for what seemed like ages, before they left the station and Sam hailed a taxi to take them to his mother’s flat in the nearby Gorbals.
***
Old Mrs. Harris was waiting for her family with proud anticipation. Samual was her only son and he was the apple of her eye and of course, Miriam, her pride and joy, but words could not describe her attitude towards her grand children. They were just perfect and each and every hair on their heads was planted there by God in a very particular fashion. She saw no wrong in either of them, simply because she looked at life that way and had reached the tranquil stage in her advanced years where tolerance reigned ...at last and above all ... even more than righteousness and love governed her justice. She considered that she didn’t have much in the materials of this life, although it was considered widely that she did have a ‘bob or two,’ however, she maintained that her brothers and sisters in Nazi Germany would have given their right arms to have what she had; her simple possessions and what was more, in her estimation, ‘peace of mind and the ability to live as she wished.’ Mrs. Harris Senior had her total happiness within her. She threw herself at Sam as he came into the house and he wrapped his strong arms around her as she reached out to bring Miriam into the embrace, enfolding the two of them simultaneously in her feeble grasp whilst the two younger members of the family looked on in awe and respect. Here was love, unspoken, where everything was understood in a simple embrace and where no words were spoken and none necessary. Eyes looked into eyes and lips met and everything was right in the world for the Harris family.
“See what I’ve brought you, Emily,” cried Miriam as she reached deep into her coat pocket and produced a small packet, wrapped in tissue paper. The old lady fumbled with the wrapping as she opened the gift and excitedly put the gold Star of David that she found there, around her neck with pride. She kissed Miriam again and again, in gratitude.
“I’m so glad to have you all here at last and I thank God that you are well,” she said, noticing that Sam had a particular eye for his young son, Nathan, when she would have expected him to have been more fascinated by his lovely daughter.
“You have grown so tall, Nathan so very tall and of course, you too have grown up to be a very beautiful young woman, Rachael,” he said “You both seemed so little when we last saw you in London and yet it’s only two years or two and a half maybe.”
Nathan blushed. He was as tall as his mother and he could see the crown of her head as he stood near her with the aroma of her perfume, bringing back many memories of his early days in London. Miriam’s spray was the family ‘miracle’. She used it every day and yet it never diminished. Sam would joke that she added a little water each time she used it, to make it go farther, but they all knew that he topped it up as necessary and that was his secret, he thought that he would share with no-one and no-one ever told him that they knew.
Whatever the story, Miriam always presented a radiant appearance and a beautiful scent followed her around.
“It will be your Barmitzvah, Nathan A little late, I’m afraid, but we should have it. I wanted to be here before this, but it was impossible.”
Old Mrs. Harris had a twinkle in her eye as she listened to her son’s proposal for her grand son and then she knew why he had shown such an interest, when he first came into the room. Nathan’s cheeks coloured again.
“Yes, Father,” he answered and as an afterthought, to give his father the full pride that he knew he should have, he added, “I’m looking forward to that.”
“Have you had your lessons at the Synagogue?” Miriam asked.
“Yes Mother, Rabbi Jacobs is a good friend to me, but I have to go to a Protestant school. There are no exclusive Jewish schools in Glasgow.”
“Call me, Mamma, Darling. Mother seems so distant and you must attend Synagogue as much as possible.”
“
Yes, you must do that,” confirmed Sam as he manoeuvred his feet into his slippers.
“And now ...” he went on as he rubbed his tongue cross his lips, “how about my little Princess?”
Sam looked proudly at Rachael and his eyes lit up as she slid down the arm of the chair where she had perched herself and kissed her father behind the ear.
“Rachael has a boyfriend, Daddy,” Nathan informed, out of the blue and a sudden silence spread across the room as Sam looked first at Rachael and then at his wife.
“Oh! Who is this then?” he enquired, “A nice Yiddish boy,” he added hopefully, but no-one spoke for a few moments. It was Nanna Harris who broke the silence.
“No ... He’s a nice a very nice Papist boy,” she said and reached down by her chair to take her knitting bag to her knee. Sam and Miriam exchanged glances again, hurriedly.
“It’s nice to have friends of all denominations,” her father said, “Yes I think it’s nice to know people of all religions. He is just a good friend, isn’t he Rachael? ...This ...er Papist lad, I mean,” asked Sam with a certain amount of trepidation in his voice.
Rachael smiled meekly and glanced at her grand mother for support, but Nanna Harris smiled benignly and went on with her knitting, ignoring the situation.
“Yes. He is a Catholic boy, Daddy,” Rachael said quietly, “And we are good friends.”
Nathan looked coldly at his sister, but she turned away from him as her father went on to remonstrate, feeling that it was simply something a good Jewish father would have to do under the circumstances.
“You realise that it is necessary to be ‘equally yoked’, my Darling. Whatever else, don’t you?” he said and Miriam narrowed her eyes as she listened to his deliberations. Her distress was obvious as she studied Rachael and she could tell that her daughter’s feelings for this boy, rated more than friendship. A woman didn’t need training in the knowledge of another woman’s feelings and Rachael was not a child any more. She was a young woman, a young, Jewish woman. Sam went on for a long time about the Jewish Faith, parenthood, nice young Yiddish boys, etc., etc. until Nanna Harris put down her knitting and interrupted.
“I don’t know why there is all this interrogation into Rachael’s friendship. He is a boy and she is a girl. It’s as simple as that, so what more is required to make a relationship, I ask you? You would be more concerned if she was in love with a nice Yiddish girl, I would imagine.”
Sam looked annoyed. He did not like to be humoured or patronised. He was the legal head of the family. That is how it was and always would be.
“I don’t think you quite understand the situation here, Mother,” he said and dropped his eyelids as if to conclude any further discussion on the subject, but Nanna Harris put aside her knitting; the knitting that she used from time to time, if it seemed that conversation was going to be awkward, or for any other reason that she may want to give the impression that she was absorbed. It also gave her time to think.
“Sam It is not my intention to get involved here, but I do know this boy and his family. I KNOW he is a good boy. I know him well. If he is non-Jewish, well that is only an accident of nature. You had no say in the fact that you were born a Jew, Sam did you? It is a pure accident that you are what you are. None of us choose what we want to be, or the circumstances of our lives.”
She took up her knitting again, but Sam was obviously hurt. His integrity had been questioned and his authority had been undermined and by his own mother... Miriam stood by, powerless to assist and afraid that she may offend her old mother-in-law, but she too was concerned for her daughter’s future and her well being. The situation was tense and Rachael knew that quite unknowingly and naively, she had stirred up a hornet’s nest.
Sam shrugged his shoulders and looked down his nose.
“Mother You cannot deny that we are the ‘chosen people’ ... can you?” he asked, but old Nanna Harris sighed as she put her knitting aside again for a moment and gazed intently into her son’s face. “In Germany today, we are the chosen people ...Yes indeed ...the chosen people of a mad man’s rage. We are chosen for torture and degenerate treatment, because of what? BECAUSE WE ARE JEWS ... In Germany today, no Jew goes around proclaiming that he or she is of the chosen race, because they are afraid of the consequences. The Star of David that Miriam has given me and which I wear with pride, is covered up there in Germany and denied even by good Jews, who are afraid for their lives. I don’t blame them for wanting to live and I am sure that the older generation of Jews in persecuted Germany would give anything; ANYTHING to have their children live in freedom and without fear of torture or imprisonment yes, and even death. It would be the last thing they would think about, that their children should fall in love with a Christian. Love is the question, Sam. Love is the subject we are talking about here. There is no love in Germany only HATE. Don’t make a Germany in your heart, Son. Don’t lock yourself into a ghetto of hate. I am an old woman. I have lived through a lot of loving and thank God, not to much hating or hate, but I know which side of the coin I would rather look at. Leave Rachael alone to seek her happiness where she wishes. Life is too short to impregnate other people’s minds and hearts, with OUR PHILOSOPHY of what we believe to be right and wrong. Love is always preferable to hate and don’t forget that very often the deepest wisdom comes from ‘the mouths of babes and sucklings ... Rachael and Nathan are beautiful children. They are God’s greatest gift to you and Miriam. Cherish them and love them and don’t make them bitter. There will always be Catholics and there will always be Jews. Why can’t we live in peace?” Nanna Harris took up her knitting again and sniffed complacently as she strained to count her stitches, “Now then, see what you’ve made me do. I don’t know now if I should knit that as a plain or a purl...”
Sam sat in silence and shuffled his slippered feet as Miriam looked puzzled.
“Time for bed, I think now children,” she said in an effort to break the ice and the children gave their goodnight kisses, before they retired.
***
Miriam passed Rachael’s bedroom door several times before she eventually knocked.
“Yes, Come in.”
Miriam entered the room and sat cautiously on the side of her daughter’s bed.
“You know, Darling You know that Daddy only wants what’s best for you. You know that, don’t you?”
Rachael lay still with her eyes just peeping above the white linen sheets, like two brown jewels. She pushed the sheets back and took her mother’s hand.
“Yes, I know Mamma ... I know.”
“Are you in love with this boy, Darling?”
Rachael turned her head away for a moment and a tear trickled down her cheek.
“I ache for him Mamma,” she said softly after a long pause.
Miriam Harris patted her daughter’s hand and smiled.
“I know how it is Darling. I know,” she said and there was hurt in her eyes.
“Goodnight Darling.”
“Goodnight, Mamma ...Mamma?”
“Yes Darling?”
“I love you Mamma.”
Rachael’s tears were soft as they trickled into her ear and she trembled.
“Charlie boy ... Charlie boy,” she murmured as she dropped off into a deep sleep, but Miriam did not leave the room immediately. She too had a tear in her eye as she remembered but it was so long ago. Long before she met Samual Harris and his name was Francis. She wondered what he was doing at that moment as she sighed and turned off the light.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Meggie arrived home on her first leave from the W.R.N.S. She looked smart and the family were delighted that she could stay with them so long and preparations were made for a re-union party. The boys teased her about her status and saluted her as she moved about the house, but they were obviously proud of her.
Sadie was into the eighth mo
nth of her pregnancy and the expectant joy was shared by all, forgetting the misfortune that was attached to the forthcoming event. Meggie wanted to know what name Sadie had chosen for the baby and she was over the moon with joy, but her sister kept her secret to herself and still no-one knew or asked about the father.
The boys and girls all decided they would go to a show and have dinner afterwards, on the Saturday before the planned party for the following day and Tom came round to see Mary. They had the house to themselves.
“Mary, have you thought any more of what I asked you?”
Mary shuffled around hoping to find the right way to answer without giving offence. She took the money Tom had given her and put it into his hand.
“I can’t take it Tom. You are too kind, but I just can’t.”
He was disappointed.
“Mary, money is nothing if you don’t have happiness,” he said, “My business has grown a lot in the last few years and now, thank God, I am able to do many of the things that I had always wanted to do, but because of what I told you, I never could. I want to marry you Mary. I want to share my life with you and your lovely family. I want to be a man again and to walk proud with a woman I could love and respect. Mary, don’t deny me that happiness, please. I love you more than I can say and I need your love.” ... Mary closed her eyes.
“Mary Are you alright?”
Mary knew what Aggie felt about her feelings for Tom Carey, but she was concerned for what the boys would say.”
“Yes, I’m alright ... I’m alright,” she answered as he stood back in anticipation.
“You know the neighbours will be talking about us, Tom. I mean, your coming here so often?”
“Let them talk.”
“Tom ...Can’t we remain good friends, just as we are. You can come for dinner and things like that and I can even do your washing and ironing, if it helps.”
“Are you telling me, Mary that you don’t want to marry me? Is that it?”