Waters of the Heart

by Doris Davidson

  ‘If it hadn’t been raining, Uncle Tommy, we were going to go to the docks to look for your boat, but we didn’t go and Daddy and I were going to play with my train set.’

  Setting him down again, Tommy said, ‘I wanted a train set when I was a boy, but I never got one. Can I play too?’

  Cissie smiled as the box was brought out again and her husband, son and brother squatted down on the mat to set up the track. The train set kept them amused until she told them that they would have to move to let her set the table for dinner, and not only the boy looked disappointed that they had to stop and dismantle it.

  In the afternoon, Ricky hung on to every word Tommy was saying about the voyage he had just finished, asking an intelligent question every now and then, but not hogging the limelight. Then, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he said, ‘Uncle Tommy, do you sleep in a hammock when you’re on your boat?’

  ‘No, lad, I’ve got a wee room all to myself, with a built-in bed. I’ll let you see her some time, she’s a beauty.’

  ‘Who’s she?’ Ricky looked puzzled.

  ‘She? She’s the ship.’

  ‘How can you tell when a ship’s a she, Uncle Tommy?’

  ‘All ships are called she, Ricky.’

  ‘Why? Is it because people can trust them? Elma used to say you couldn’t trust men.’

  Tommy shot a troubled glance at Cissie. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Maybe there’s some men you can’t trust, but not many. You can trust most men like you can trust . . .’ he searched for a suitable comparison, ‘. . . like you can trust it always to rain on a Sunday if you want to go out.’

  Ricky laughed delightedly. ‘You’re funny, Uncle Tommy.’

  Tommy pulled a face to show he could be even funnier, and jumped up to execute a little dance, which made his nephew chortle with glee. ‘Can you do the sailor’s hornpipe?’

  ‘No, I’d need bell-bottoms for that.’

  ‘A bell bottom?’

  Hugh let out a loud guffaw. ‘It’s what you were speaking about earlier on, remember? The wide-legged trousers that sailors wear.’

  ‘But I thought Uncle Tommy was a sailor, and he doesn’t have a bell bottom.’

  ‘Oh, Ricky,’ Cissie sighed. ‘Give Uncle Tommy some peace.’

  ‘No, it’s all right,’ her brother smiled. ‘It’s the Royal Navy that wear bell-bottoms, lad, and I’m in the Merchant Navy. I’ll wear my uniform the next time I come.’

  As Ricky opened his mouth to ask another question, Hugh said, ‘That’s enough now. It’s time you were in bed.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy, must I?’

  ‘I’ll come and say goodnight to you,’ Tommy promised, and Ricky trotted off quite contentedly.

  When her son was settled for the night, Cissie said, ‘I suppose you want to know what’s been happening?’

  Her brother smiled. ‘I gather there’s been some kind of upheaval that ended happily?’

  Tommy was amazed when he learned the full extent of the upheaval. ‘Well, I’m tickled pink you’ve got Ricky back, and I’d better congratulate you on your marriage. If I’d known about it, I’d have bought you a wedding present. If all goes as planned, I might be getting married myself shortly.’

  ‘Oh, Tommy!’ Cissie cried. ‘I’m pleased to hear that. Is it still the Marion you told us about?’

  ‘Aye. I spent all my time in Lowestoft with her last time, that’s why I didn’t manage to come to see you, and we’ve been writing to each other. I’m going to pop the question when I go this time, and if she says yes, we’ll get married after my next trip. We’ll be in for a refit, so I’ll have a month or so off.’

  ‘Have you time to come back before you go to Lowestoft? Richard and Phoebe’ll be here on Wednesday afternoon, and you could meet them if you wanted.’

  ‘I’d love to meet them. Marion can wait till Thursday.’

  Hugh stepped in here. ‘You can’t disappoint your girl if she’s expecting you tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll give her a call from a phone box in the morning. I want to meet Phoebe, and, anyway, I promised I’d let Ricky see me in uniform.’

  On Wednesday afternoon, Tommy hit it off with Richard and Phoebe from the minute he shook hands with them, and they were soon talking as if they were old friends, Cissie and Hugh taking a back seat. When Ricky came home, he gave a cursory ‘Hello’ to his grandpa and grandma and rushed past them. ‘Ooh, I didn’t know you’d have gold stripes on your sleeves, Uncle Tommy, and gold buttons! Are you an officer?’

  ‘First Officer McGregor, that’s me! Next in importance to the captain . . . Well, he thinks he’s more important.’ Tommy tapped his nose with his forefinger and winked. ‘D’you want to try on my hat?’ He picked it up from the side of his chair and held it out.

  Ricky took it reverently, the gold braid round the peak and the gold anchor of the Merchant Navy badge making his eyes almost pop out of their sockets. When Tommy urged him to put it on, he lifted it as if it were a crown and let it down slowly on his head, laughing when it came to rest on his nose.

  ‘It’s just a wee bit big,’ Tommy said, his eyes dancing as he pushed it up until his nephew could see.

  ‘Can I keep it on till I go to bed?’ Given permission, he retreated into a silent make-believe world, and the adults were free to talk without interruptions.

  Phoebe and Richard left at nine, but it was after ten before Cissie saw Tommy out. ‘I can see why you like her so much,’ he smiled. ‘She’s a fine woman. But you were awful quiet, is there something on your mind?’

  ‘I didn’t like to say anything in front of Hugh, but it came into my head when you were speaking to Richard and Phoebe. I didn’t tell you before, because I was worried sick about it, but Da’s out of prison.’

  ‘I thought he’d five or six years to do yet. How long’s he been out?’

  ‘Two years anyway.’

  Tommy looked puzzled. ‘Why would they let him out as early as that? And how did you know?’

  ‘It was in the Stop Press one night. He was out on parole, and he was meant to report in and he hadn’t. I don’t really understand it, but the police were asking for information. I was terrified he’d come after me – and Phoebe, as well, he’d be mad at her for divorcing him – but he hasn’t shown up at all, even after that article in the paper I told you about.’

  Frowning, Tommy said, ‘It beats me. They let him out years early and just allow him to disappear? They must have caught him again, Cissie, and they won’t let him out on parole a second time. He’ll have to serve his full sentence, maybe longer.’

  ‘I never saw anything about them catching him, but maybe they have, and he could still look for me when he gets out. I’d half convinced myself he couldn’t find me, but I’ve had nightmares about him, and I know he’d never give up.’

  Looking pensive, Tommy said, ‘Have you told Hugh?’

  ‘I couldn’t. Oh, Tommy, I wish I knew where he was.’

  ‘They must have caught him, and he could have died in jail for all we know.’

  Not aware that he was saying this to allay her fears, her eyes brightened. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘It’s not impossible. Who would they notify if he had?’

  ‘Marie, I suppose.’

  ‘Do you want me to find out? I could go to Aberdeen in the morning, and go straight to Lowestoft from there.’

  ‘Would you? Oh, I hope he’s dead. I know that’s an awful thing to say, but it would solve everything.’

  ‘I hope to God the filthy bugger has kicked the bucket, the world would be a better place without him. I’d better love you and leave you, as the saying goes, but I’ll let you know how I get on at Schoolhill, and when I get back from Lowestoft, I’ll come and tell you if I’m engaged or not.’

  Chapter Thirty-two

  On the train to London, Tommy was recalling the six full days he had spent in Lowestoft with Marion Rowse, when they had taken advantage of the Indian summer to cement their fragmented courtship.
On the third day he had asked her to marry him and he could scarcely believe, even now, that she had said yes.

  He was still in a state of total bliss when he reached King’s Cross, and boarded the express to Edinburgh, picturing Marion’s dear face and wishing that he hadn’t left her so soon. It was not until York was left behind that the memory of his visit to Aberdeen began to intrude. Determined not to let it spoil his happiness, he pushed it aside, but it kept resurfacing, the accompanying sense of impending doom growing stronger each time until he was forced to think about it.

  Marie was pleased to see him, but her welcoming smile faded when he said, abruptly, ‘Is Da back in prison?’

  ‘Not as far as I know,’ she muttered, warily.

  ‘So he’s still on the loose?’

  ‘On the loose? You make it sound like he was an animal escaped from the zoo.’

  ‘He is an animal. He didn’t deserve to live.’

  ‘Oh, you’re callous, Tommy McGregor,’ Marie stormed, ‘and you needn’t bother coming here again if you can’t forgive him for something that happened when he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing.’

  ‘He always knew what he was doing, even when he was drunk as a lord.’

  ‘I bet Cissie’s put you up to this, and it was all her fault. He’d never have started drinking again if she hadn’t made Phoebe leave him. That’s what started it all.’

  ‘But you don’t know everything,’ her brother said, softly. ‘It was his own bairn he killed.’

  ‘She told you the same story?’ Marie sneered. ‘That’s why Phoebe turned against him, and all, and it’s not true. Da wouldn’t have raped Cissie, and he didn’t mean to kill Jim or little James.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put anything past him, and he did rape her.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Marie cried, tossing her head. ‘She just said that so nobody would know her lad wouldn’t admit the bairn was his, then she cleared out and me and Pat were left to take all the sneers about us having a murderer for a father. Wilfie near dumped me, and all, till I made him see it wasn’t Da’s fault. So you needn’t stick up for Cissie, and I’m telling you what I told the bobbies when they came asking. I don’t know where he is, but I’m ready to make a home for him when he does come home. Now, you’d better get out of my house, Tommy, and don’t bother coming back!’

  Tommy had been going over and over it in his mind for hours, and as he left Waverley Station, he was certain that something awful was going to happen soon. Marie’s resentment of Cissie had blinkered her, but knowing his father, he could imagine him coming out of prison hell-bent on revenge – on the person he blamed for putting him there – and Cissie was damned lucky he hadn’t found her yet. Hugh should be told that she was in danger, and Richard Dickson warned to take care of Phoebe. Turning into Leith Walk, Tommy thought of going to the sweetshop, but decided to wait until morning, when there would be a better chance of catching his brother-in-law alone.

  Passing a public house, he thought he may as well have a quick pint before going on board. It was hardly nine o’clock and a drink might help him get rid of the dread that was inside him. The place was thick with cigarette smoke, and he was practically deafened by the noise, but he didn’t see a soul he knew, and he wasn’t in the mood for company, anyway. He took his tankard over to a dim corner, and even his first mouthful of beer lifted his depression a little.

  He was about to take another draught when his hand halted midway to his mouth, a prickle of fear running across his scalp. No, no, it couldn’t be! From his dark vantage point, he watched the white-haired man shuffling unsteadily up to the bar, shoulders hunched even when he put his elbow on the counter. Laying his tankard down, Tommy kept his eyes fixed on the newcomer, stretching his neck for a sight of the man’s face when he turned his head. Oh God, it was! His father was in Leith! He wasn’t the swaggering Big Tam his son remembered, though. This was an old man, a man bowed down after nearly ten years in jail and more than two years on the run.

  Tommy drew back abruptly when Tam staggered towards him, slopping beer on the floor. Luckily, three men moved to make a space beside them and he sat down with his back to his son. His slurred speech when he joined in the conversation confirmed Tommy’s guess that he had been in several pubs before this, and he was in good fettle, laughing and joking with his companions. His son felt like dashing over to punch the moon-face to a pulp, but he had the sense to stay where he was.

  Keeping his eye on the table in front, he was certain that it wasn’t coincidence that his father was here in Leith. He must have found out where Cissie lived. Tommy tried to remember if he had told Marie about the shop and was positive he hadn’t, so how could the evil sod know? Unless . . . Cissie had said there was a bit in the paper about Hugh and her when the police caught that thief – Phoebe had been able to track her down because of it – but that was months ago. If Tam had seen it, he’d have come to Leith long before this.

  It was almost closing time when the old man stood up and reeled out, and Tommy, desperate to know where he was going, rose and followed him.

  He had been sure his father would make for Duke Street, and was taken aback when he turned in the other direction. Having to go the same way himself, he followed a little way behind, shaking his head in disgust at the slow, erratic path the bowed man was weaving. At last, when they reached the quay, Tommy could stand it no longer. He had to know what his father was up to. Quickening his steps, he came up alongside Tam. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded, rashly. ‘You’re hardly able to stand up.’

  Taken by surprise, Tam stumbled as he turned round, but managed to steady himself. ‘Who the hell do you think you’re speaking to?’ he roared. ‘Can’t a man have a coupla drinks without some nosy bastard thinking he’s drunk?’ He peered at Tommy now. ‘That’s not a bobby’s uniform you’ve got on, sonny boy, so just bugger off and leave me alone.’

  Tommy contemplated leaving him in ignorance. More than sixteen years had passed since they stood face to face in the kitchen at Schoolhill, and his father obviously didn’t connect him with that defiant fifteen-year-old boy. Yet . . . he wouldn’t be so likely to open up to a stranger. ‘Do you not recognise me?’

  The old man’s bleary eyes narrowed to slits in an effort to place the interfering stranger, but he couldn’t focus them properly. ‘No!’ he declared. ‘I bloody well don’t! Who the fucking hell are you?’

  At that moment, one of Tommy’s crew – his second mate and future brother-in-law – passed on his way back to the ship. ‘Hi, Tommy!’ he called. ‘Do you want me to wait for you?’

  ‘No, Arthur, just carry on. I’ll be a wee while yet.’

  Tam’s face had darkened as comprehension struck him. ‘God Almighty!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s the bloody prodigal son! A damned naval officer now.’

  Having realised that a man as drunk as Tam would not take kindly to more harsh words, Tommy tried to speak in a friendly manner. ‘I could hardly believe it was you when I saw you in the pub.’

  ‘Did you think I was still locked up? Not me, I’ve been out for ages, though maybe you didn’t know it was your sister who got me put inside.’

  Tommy saw red at this shambles of a man excusing himself for what he had done to his daughter. ‘It was your own bloody fault you were in, not Cissie’s.’

  ‘I lost the best part of my life through that bitch,’ Tam snarled, ‘and I’m going to get her! I’ve watched her shop and I know her man goes out every Friday.’

  His mouth drying up, Tommy muttered, ‘How did you know she had a shop?’

  Tam looked pleased with himself now. ‘I came across an old paper under the mattress in a doss-house a month or so back, and there it was! Name and address and everything!’

  Tommy dredged his brain for something to deter him, his blood curdling when he saw that his father’s fingers were curled as though he were strangling someone.

  ‘I’ve waited long enough,’ Tam went on, ‘and I’m all set for tom
orrow.’ He halted, a little unsure of himself. ‘This is Thursday night, is it not? Aye, your sister’s time’s up. And you, you ponced up bugger, you’re not man enough to stop me.’

  Tommy saw now that his father’s eyes were crazed. It was a waste of time arguing with a madman. He felt like wiping the stupid grin off the mottled face, but it would likely make things worse.

  ‘I’ll get Phoebe’s address out of Cissie first,’ Tam went on, his tongue loosened by drink. ‘And I’ll do her next.’

  It was a blessing his father hadn’t seen Phoebe going into the shop on Wednesdays, Tommy thought, or maybe he had seen her and hadn’t recognised the elegant woman as his ex-wife. ‘They’d hang you this time.’

  Tam gave a sneering laugh. ‘I’d be happy to swing for the pair of them, whores that they are!’

  This was too much for Tommy. ‘You’re off your bloody head, you drunken bugger!’

  In the next instant, a massive fist shot out and caught him so unexpectedly on the side of the head that he went down as if he’d been poleaxed, and while he was still lying dazed on the ground, he heard a hoarse shout and a loud splash. Trying to get up, he realised, with dawning horror, that his father was nowhere to be seen. He must have fallen over the edge! Once on his feet, Tommy ran to look down into the water and was in time to see Tam’s bloodied face break the surface and then go under again. Even after what had been said, even though he hated his father with all his being, Tommy’s first thought – as it should be to any sailor when someone falls into the sea – was to dive in and attempt to rescue the drowning man.

  He was still struggling in the narrow space between a ship and the wall of the dock, to get the limp body clear of the filthy water, when a welcome voice said, ‘Turn him roon’ so I can get a hold o’ his arms.’

  With the stranger’s help, the unconscious Tam was hoisted on to the quay, but in spite of all the two men did to try to revive him, their efforts were in vain, and Tommy sat back hopelessly on his heels.