When it was her turn, she was ushered into a small cosy room with a large desk at the window. Dr Lowson was tiny, just about five feet and very slim. She had dark shiny hair, cut in a neat bob, and lovely grey eyes. Molly could well imagine how Dave Barton had felt with this gorgeous creature living in his house.
The doctor looked surprised to see a stranger. ‘Are you on holiday?’ she asked.
Molly was unsure how to broach the subject of Etta. ‘I’m sorry to turn up on your doorstep like this, Dr Lowson, but I got your name and address from Vera Barton’s address book.’
The woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Vera Barton? How can I help you with her?’
Molly explained the situation and said, ‘I’m trying to find out all I can about Etta Barton and I wondered if you could help me in trying to find her.’
The woman gave a nervous cough. ‘Yes, I stayed with the Bartons for a few months in late 1929, while I was at medical school in Dundee, but I’ve no idea where Etta went, or where she is now. I’m sorry.’
Molly decided to be blunt. ‘I have a witness who says there was a rumour Dave Barton fancied you and that Etta didn’t like it.’
The doctor burst out laughing. ‘Oh, I know he did, but it wasn’t anything to be worried about. It was more a liking he had for me and we used to have long talks about medicine and books, and things like that. Vera was a lovely woman and I liked her very much. I wasn’t so fond of Dave, but it was nothing to do with his behaviour as he was always the perfect gentleman. No, I left after a few months, but not because of the rumours. I told Vera that I had to go and live with an elderly aunt who needed someone to be with her at night, which was a lie. I got accommodation elsewhere and I never saw them again.’
‘But you did write to Vera twice. She noted it down in her book.’
‘Yes, I did. I saw the article about Dave’s accident in the paper and then about Etta’s disappearance and I wanted to send my condolences to Vera because, as I said, she was a lovely woman and didn’t deserve the life she had. I also sent a Christmas card last year.’
‘Was there any reason to send a card? Had you heard from any of them?’
‘No, I was clearing out some old correspondence and I came across an old letter from Vera. I just sent her my best wishes and hoped she was keeping well. It was a spur of the moment thing.’
‘Was there a reason why you left after a few months?’
She looked out of the window at the grey sea and sky and sighed. ‘I’m a doctor and I can never be judgemental about anyone but if you must know, I left because of Etta.’
Molly was surprised. ‘But Etta was only fifteen years old. Why?’
‘Yes, she was four years younger than me … I guess it can’t do any harm now to tell you why. One day I was leaving to go to the college when she followed me out. As you probably know, their house is up the two stairs with the plettie outside. This particular morning, I was running late and didn’t see Etta till she came right up beside me. She said, “What a long drop it is to the ground,” and she leaned right over. “It must be twenty feet or more and you could have a nasty accident if you fell over.” With that, she gave me a push. I managed to shove her back and run down the stairs but I was frightened and said that night that I was leaving.’ She leaned on her desk and looked Molly straight in the eye. ‘I will never forget the gloating look she gave me when I told them. It was malevolent. So I don’t care what’s happened to that child and if Vera had any sense she wouldn’t either. Still, I suppose it’s all to do with motherly love. Not that Etta loved her mother, it was her father she adored.’
Molly realised she wouldn’t get much more information from her but she asked, ‘Did you know if Etta had a boyfriend?’
Dr Lowson shook her head. ‘If she did, then no one would have known. She was a secretive one that Etta.’
Molly was still wondering about the scene of Dave’s death. ‘Do you have any idea why Dave would have been in Arbroath that day, Doctor Lowson?’
The doctor looked troubled. ‘No, I’m sorry. I’m not going to wish you good luck in finding Etta because I think it will bring more pain to Vera. I think she couldn’t live without her father after his death and I think she killed herself. Sorry to be so blunt, Miss McQueen, but that’s my theory.’
Molly thanked her and made for the car park. A watery sun had come out and a couple with three dogs were marching across the sand, spoiling the perfect surface. It was a bit like people’s lives she thought: perfect on the surface until footsteps marched all over your soul.
Molly made her way back to Dundee but it was 4:30 p.m. by the time she arrived at Vera’s house. She looked pleased to see Molly but the hope died in her eyes when she realised there was no news about her daughter. Molly told her all the people she had seen and what she had learned, keeping back the bit about Etta’s unpopularity or, in Sasha’s case, her malevolence.
‘I went to see Sasha Lowson this morning, Vera –’
Before she could finish Vera butted in. ‘Oh, how is she? We all liked her when she stayed here. She’s a doctor now but she was just a wee slip of a lassie away back then. I thought she would become friends with Etta, but I suppose she was too busy with her medical studies.’
‘Yes, she told me you made her very welcome and that she had long conversations with your husband.’
Vera burst out laughing. ‘Oh, I know there were rumours about her and Dave and I used to tease him about it, but there was no truth in the stories.’
‘Yes, that’s what she said, but she didn’t stay long with you.’
Vera stopped smiling and she became serious. ‘She said she was going to live with some elderly aunt but I knew it wasn’t true. Still, I pretended to believe her and she left almost overnight.’
‘Why do you think she left so suddenly?’
Vera became angry. ‘It was because of the rumours, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to put me in this position because we got on so well. She wouldn’t have wanted people to think my husband was serious about her.’
Molly stayed silent. So Vera didn’t know about Etta’s threats. Or did she? ‘You didn’t think it was anything to do with Etta?’
Vera looked astonished. ‘Etta? Why would she leave because of Etta?’
Molly had to backtrack. ‘Oh, I just thought, with two young girls in the house, perhaps they had a falling out.’
Vera gave this idea some thought. ‘No, I don’t think so. As I said, Sasha was too busy with her medical books and she never socialised with Etta. I often suggested they should go to the pictures together but they never did.’
‘Did you get another lodger after Sasha left?’
‘Yes. We looked after four young men after that but I had to stop taking anybody else after the last one left because I had to have this operation.’
‘Have you got their names and addresses, Vera?’
‘No, I don’t have their addresses. Robert McGregor stayed for six months and he left in the spring of 1930. Then Michael McGregor arrived for a few weeks, he was Robert’s brother. Lenny Barr stayed for two months but he left to go to a job in England, while the last person was only here for a few weeks because of my ill health. I couldn’t ask Dave and Etta to look after him and cook for him, so he left.’
‘I was talking to Anita Armstrong and she told me that a Mrs Pert was the source of the rumours about Sasha.’
Vera screwed her face up in disgust. ‘Mrs Pert was usually the source of all rumours and gossip. I always thought she never had enough to do with her life, that she had to meddle in everybody else’s affairs. I expect she’s still at it.’
Molly looked surprised. ‘Is she still alive? Anita said she was about eighty years old in 1929.’
Vera laughed again. ‘Isn’t that typical of a young, newly married bride of nineteen? They think all elderly people are ancient. No, Mrs Pert was only about sixty when she lived here, but now she lives with her sister and her niece in Clepington Road. I mean, she’ll be really o
ld now, but she’s not dead and buried like Anita seems to think.’
Molly jotted down her address. She would go and see the woman tomorrow. She hoped that this old woman, with the sharp eyes and even sharper tongue, would help in this case where there were scores of facts and theories but nothing that could be pinned down to the truth. So many people who knew Etta had their own impressions of her, which didn’t help in piecing together her last few days living with her mother.
‘I’ve just one more question, Vera. Have you any idea why Dave went to Arbroath on the day he died, and do you think Etta went with him?’
Vera said, ‘That’s something I’ve often wondered and I can’t think why he would go. As for Etta, well, she was never seen again after the accident, so I don’t know.’ She stopped speaking and looked unhappy. ‘When we married in 1913 we were too young. Then Etta was born and when Dave didn’t return from the war until she was five. We had a hard job readjusting to one another and I have to admit we didn’t really succeed. Dave was very moody and he had a bad temper at times. I felt I had to walk on eggshells all the time. He would go on long walks, either by himself or with Etta, and I felt left out of that arrangement. I guess it makes sense that they would both leave me at the same time, not giving me any clue as to what happened.’
Not knowing how to reply to Vera’s melancholy, Molly simply said, ‘Well, I’ll get back to the office and type up all my notes.’ She left Vera sitting by the fire with an empty plate and cup beside her on a small table. She felt such a pang of sympathy for the woman that she had to hurry out the door and down the stairs in case she burst into tears.
11
Mary turned up for work at Keiller’s sweet factory at 7:15 a.m. and joined the throng of people who were making their way into the Albert Square factory. This noisy group filtered into various departments and she was soon the only person left at the small office by the front door. An older man appeared and scrutinised her work slip. ‘It’s the quality control department you’re looking for, lass,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you where it is.’
They walked through a lot of the departments, which even at this early time of the morning were hives of activity. In contrast, the quality control office was a quiet haven. A plump woman came forward and introduced herself. ‘I’m Miss Whyte and I’m in charge of this office.’ She looked as if she was ready to burst out of her skirt and Mary wondered if part of this job meant having to taste all the sweeties.
Standing at a desk was a young man who came over. ‘Hi, I’m Phil. You will be working with me most of the time.’
Mary could only stare at him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen outside of the Hollywood films. His black hair was slicked back and his eyes were deep brown. She had often read in her True Romance magazines about people with limpid, luscious eyes but she had never believed it … at least not until now. Then he smiled, showing the whitest teeth. He was perfection from head to foot. She wished now that she had taken more care over her appearance. Not that she was badly dressed, but her work suit and white blouse looked frumpy next to this gorgeous man.
He started to explain what the work entailed. ‘We go round all the departments and take samples so we can analyse them, to make sure they are the best quality because the factory take their quality satisfaction very seriously.’
Mary was issued with a white overall and set off with the Greek god. ‘We’ve got the enrobing department this morning,’ he said.
Mary was alarmed. It sounded as if she would have to take her clothes off but when they reached it, Phil explained. ‘This is where all the soft centres are coated in chocolate. That’s what enrobing means.’
‘Oh,’ said Mary, suddenly feeling relieved.
Phil strode over to the large vats of chocolate that lay at the edge of the floor and took a small ladle and metal container out of his bag. One of the men in charge of the vat took a small sample of chocolate and handed it over. Then it was over to a large conveyer belt, where the fruit centres slowly marched under a stream of chocolate before disappearing into a tunnel. Mary was then taken into a cold room next door, where the sweets were deftly taken off the belt by a bevy of women and packed into wooden trays. Mary was quite overcome by the sweet, hot smell of chocolate. Another thing she noticed was the looks the machine girls were giving Phil. They obviously found him as handsome as she did.
At dinner time, Phil said, ‘We have a good canteen here with hot meals at reasonable prices. I always go there, so I’ll show you the way.’
They reached the canteen, which was warm and bright and filled with workers. Mary chose a steak pie and mashed potatoes and a cup of tea from the self-service counter and was amused to see Phil had chosen the same thing. They managed to get an empty table by the wall and Phil pointed his knife at her plate. ‘Great minds think alike,’ he said with a laugh.
Mary could barely eat her dinner because the eight girls sitting at the next table kept looking over and making eyes at Phil while giving her some hard stares.
One of the girls, a very pretty blonde, said, ‘Are you going dancing tonight, Phil?’
He smiled at her. ‘No, I never go on a Monday night, Linda.’
‘Well, I’ll be out on Saturday at the Palais. I’ll maybe see you there.’
Phil said. ‘Do you go dancing, Mary?’
She nodded. ‘I go to Kidd’s Rooms with my chum every Saturday.’
He gave her a look with his limpid eyes and Mary felt herself blush. ‘To change the subject,’ he said. ‘How long have you been hired for?’
‘Two weeks, with an option of another week in case your colleague hasn’t been replaced by then.’
He gave her another look. ‘Well, let’s hope she isn’t.’
Mary asked him, ‘Why did she give up such a great job?’
Phil smiled. ‘She left to have her baby and the job has been advertised in the Courier. I think the interviews are at the end of the week. Then they’ll have to advertise my job.’
Mary was surprised. ‘Are you leaving as well?’
He shrugged. ‘I have to do my National Service soon. I’m expecting my call-up papers in a month or so.’
‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘What branch of the Services will you be in?’
‘I would like the RAF, but I suppose it’ll be the army.’
They had each finished their meal so they got up and walked towards the canteen door, followed by the eyes of the eight girls. Mary overheard one saying to Linda, ‘You’ll have to work fast before he goes away. Just think of all the good looking fräuleins and señoritas abroad.’
‘Oh, just shut up,’ said Linda crossly.
Edna was unhappy. It had been a whole week since she had left John’s house and she really thought he would have come to the house to see her and explain this strange situation. However, there had been no word from him and she had to stay away another week before going back to work at the house. She was enjoying working in the large office in town but she missed John so much that it felt like an ache. At night she would toss and turn, wondering if and when he would deal with this mess. Sometimes she would wake up at 3 a.m. with the thought that it would never be sorted out, and she couldn’t get back to sleep again. Still, there was only one more week to go and everything would hopefully be back to what it was.
In the morning, after Edna had left for work, Irene took Billy to school and she made a detour after dropping him off at Rosebank Primary. Instead of heading back to Paradise Road, she walked up Constitution Road and slowed up when she reached John’s house. The house looked deserted and no lights shone in the front rooms. Irene stood for a moment, unable to decide what to do. Should she walk up to the front door and tell John she was just passing or should she walk on?
After a few moments hesitation, she retraced her steps and went home. She hated seeing Edna so unhappy and she was also a bit annoyed at John for this high-handed treatment. He had made his intentions very clear and now it looked as if he had changed his mind. He was
quite entitled to do that, Irene thought, but he should have been honest with her daughter.
As she turned and walked away, Irene hadn’t noticed the figure standing in the darkness behind the curtains, but she had seen Irene. ‘Well, well, what was that all about?’ she said out loud. But there was no one to answer her and she moved into the kitchen to make some tea and toast.
12
Molly wanted to make an early start. She wasn’t sure how long it would take her to reach the house where Mrs Pert was staying with her sister. Clepington Road was long and Molly wasn’t sure where to begin looking. She decided to take the bus to the top of Caird Avenue then get her bearings from there.
As it turned out, she had made the right choice because the flat was in a well-kept, stone-built tenement a few hundred yards away. Vera had said the sister’s name was Isa Young and Molly soon found the flat. It was on the ground floor and the wooden door looked quite substantial, as if it would have been able to withstand the onslaught of an invading army. The brass bell and nameplate were shiny and fingerprint free. They looked as if they were well buffed up every day with Brasso, and Molly felt guilty for having the cheek to ring the bell.
It took a few minutes for someone to come to the door but Molly knew the two ladies who lived here must now be in there eighties. That was why she got a surprise when a smart looking woman, who looked to be about fifty years old, opened the door. Slightly taken aback, Molly asked if she could see Mrs Pert.
Private Sorrow, A Page 6