But things were taken out of his hands. While he had been wandering around, the Jean Nutten’s engineer had carried out his routine checks and found that one of the cylinders was cracked. When the skipper told him at breakfast time the next day, it struck George – superstitious like all seamen – that this was an omen. The ship, and her crew, would have to remain in Yarmouth until the repair was carried out, which meant that he could see Lizann a few more times.
She looked pleased when he showed up at the Denes in the late forenoon, and agreed to meet him at night, but when he set out for the trysting place, he was beset by doubts. Was it possible for him to spend a whole evening with her and not do something he’d regret later? Past experience had told him that only one kiss could spark off an undeniable need, but he couldn’t leave her standing. He would have to fix his mind on Katie and keep his hands off Lizann.
All went well for the first hour they were together, just light conversation and a little teasing, but eventually the urge to taste Lizann’s sweet lips again grew too great to ignore, and with a groan, he took her in his arms. After a little while, he muttered, ‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’
‘I like it, George.’
‘But what about Peter, and Katie?’
‘They’ll never know …’ She looked at him and added, with an embarrassed half-smile, ‘… whatever we do.’
He hesitated. ‘Do you mean what I think you mean?’
Her arms came round his neck, snapping his control. ‘Oh, God, Lizann.’ He kissed her hungrily, then pulled her down on the ground, his resolutions forgotten.
In his bunk that night, he felt sick at what he had done. Lizann wasn’t a good-time girl like the others he’d had. She had been a virgin, had cried when it was over, and he’d been so ashamed he couldn’t find words to tell her how sorry he was. Suddenly, the thought of Katie made him feel worse than ever. How could he have done this thing when he loved her so much? He should have turned away from Lizann the minute he set eyes on her, for he’d been drawn to her even then. No, he corrected himself, what he had felt was deeper than just attraction.
By morning, he had decided not to see her again, yet he found his feet taking him to the Denes once more, and she nodded when he raised his eyebrows in question.
Having resolved not to repeat what had happened before, he didn’t even kiss her that evening, nor the next, although it took every ounce of his will-power not to put his arms round her, for he could tell that she was hoping he would. On his last night, she was very quiet as they walked side by side, listening without seeming to take it in when he told her how some of the seven-men crew had argued with the skipper about the amount of subs they’d had during the trip and insisted that they were due more at the settling up than he had given them. Eventually, her abstraction made him say, ‘Lizann, are you angry about what I did the other night?’
‘No, I’m not angry, and I’m not sorry we did it.’
He didn’t notice that she was shouldering half the blame. ‘What’s wrong, then?’
‘What are we going to do, George? After this, I mean.’
‘When I go back to Cullen and you go back to Buckie?’
‘I still love Peter, and I can’t tell him.’
‘No.’ George thought for some time then said, slowly, ‘I’m still going to marry Katie, and you’ll marry Peter. What we did hasn’t changed that, but I’d better get you back …’
‘Not yet, George. I’ll never see you again, and I want to have this last night to remember.’
Her eyes told what she wanted. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, slowly, wonderingly.
‘D’you think I’m awful … ?’
‘No, I want it as much as you.’
Their bodies welded together, their kisses setting light to their smouldering passion, they sank down on the sodden, grassy bank and not even the wetness seeping through their clothes had any effect on the ecstasy they shared.
Outside her lodgings, George knew that he didn’t want to say goodbye to her. ‘Oh God, Lizann,’ he groaned, ‘I think I love you.’
‘And I think I love you, and all, George.’
They looked at each other in awe for a moment, then she gave her head a vehement shake. ‘No, I can’t let Peter down now.’ With a strangled sob, she ran inside.
George was filled with remorse as he walked back to his ship. Falling in love with Lizann was something he hadn’t foreseen, and he was thankful that she’d been strong enough to nip it in the bud, painful as it had been to him. He had betrayed Katie, but please God she would never find out he had been unfaithful, or she wouldn’t look at him again, like he would be finished with her if he thought she had ever let another man touch her. A girl should come to the marriage bed with her maidenhead intact.
Even in his rationalizing, it did not occur to George that he had spoiled the virgin Lizann for the unknown Peter.
***
Having plodded over hard-packed, rutted snow to get to and from her work, it was a very tired Katie who was lying in bed thinking of George. It must be awful out there on the North Sea, pulling in nets with hands frozen to the marrow and your body so cold it was difficult to move. They should have landed their catch at Yarmouth by now, though, and it wouldn’t be long till he was home. He was going to ask her to marry him, and she’d have to make up her mind soon. She liked him an awful lot, but was that enough?
‘George Buchan’ll be back one day,’ Mary Ann observed the following morning, ‘and he’ll have had a high old time among the fisher lassies, if I ken the driftermen.’
‘He’s not like that,’ Katie protested, her heart giving such a jolt at the thought of him with anyone else that she knew it was more than liking she felt for him. ‘He said he’d something to ask me when he came home, and I’m sure I love him now. If he wants, I’ll get engaged to him, but I’m not rushing into marriage.’
‘If you’re determined to have him,’ her grandmother said, dryly, ‘you’d better trap him afore he goes away again.’
Katie took umbrage at this. ‘It’s not a case of trapping him. He loves me as much as I love him.’
‘Well, dinna count your chickens.’ Mary Ann turned away.
Walking to the baker’s shop, Katie felt angry. There was nothing for her to worry about. George did love her and he wouldn’t have gone out with any of the fisher girls.
His last visit to Peterhead had given Angus Gunn cause to worry about his health, his heart especially. He had not told his wife of the fearsome pains which had gripped him as she sat beside him in the car, nor of the pressures which had triggered the red lights that flashed behind his eyes. He had thought – when he got over them – that it was a good thing she did not know how close she had been to being a widow, but perhaps that had been an exaggeration. There had been no recurrence of the chest pains, although he was still bothered by headaches, even after so many months.
He had decided that day, as he had done more than once before, to forget his need to avenge the attack Katie Mair had made on him, but his scar was showing up more with the cold weather, and he could not ignore what she had done. He was not confident of success now, and he did not wish Betty to witness another failure, but she would be suspicious if he went away on another Sunday, and his absence on a weekday would be difficult to explain.
‘I’m having a problem with a wholesale firm in Aberdeen,’ he told her one morning, this hopefully plausible excuse having occurred to him during the night. ‘They say I owe them for my last consignment of goods, but I paid it some time ago. I seem to be getting nowhere by writing, so I shall have to go to see the manager in person and show him the receipt. Do you think you could take over the shop for me? The sooner I get it sorted out the better.’
Betty gave a fond smile. ‘How would tomorrow do?’
‘That would be ideal. Thank you, my dear.’
Angus set off at his usual time the next morning, humming tunelessly after he dropped Betty off at the shop because he had the feeling that today
was the day. He had remembered that the farmer’s wife at Struieburn had said she sent Katie to the Temperance Hotel, so all he had to do was go there and ask to talk to her.
His spirits were dampened when he found the hotel and put his request to the manager – he had not known Katie. Angus had no option but to leave, his disappointment so great that a fierce throbbing started up inside his head. He could not think what to do next, and was cruising round the streets when he saw a small bakery which also laid claim to being a café, and hoping that a little refreshment might stop the alarming pounding in his head, he stopped the car and went in. The tea did help him, black and strong as he liked it. His brain clearer, it came to him that he had seen the café before and that it was quite near where Katie used to live. Perhaps the woman who served him had known her.
Lottie McRuvie did not like the look of this customer – a dark man with staring eyes, his conservative suit and hard-brimmed homburg suggesting he was a prosperous businessman. He looked out of place here, where the usual rig-out was a navy ganzy and rough serge trousers, topped by a cloth cap. Curious to know why he was there, she went eagerly to his table when he beckoned her over.
‘I wonder if you can help me?’ he began. ‘I am looking for a Katie Mair who lived in Marischal Street at one time, and I thought, since her house was not far from here, that you may be able to tell me where she is now.’
His manner was pleasant enough, but Lottie knew that this didn’t mean a thing, and she wasn’t going to give anything away until she found out why he was asking. ‘Katie Mair?’ she said, pretending to think.
‘She was living with a young man the last time I saw her – Sammy, I think his name was – but I mislaid her new address and I have something of great importance to tell her.’
Coming to the conclusion that he must be a solicitor with news of a legacy, Lottie still didn’t altogether trust him. ‘Oh, aye, I know who you mean now,’ she said, snapping her fingers as if it had just dawned on her. ‘It’s a good while since she left, and she didn’t say where she was going. But Dennis McKay might know, she was real friendly with him for a while, and I can tell you where to get hold of him.’
The man sat up, beaming. ‘I would be most obliged.’
Watching the stranger coming in, Dennis could not understand the ripple of apprehension that ran through him – maybe it was the expression on the man’s face, sort of secretive yet tinged with excitement. ‘Lunch for one, is it, sir?’ he said, stepping forward with the smile he always presented to new patrons of his restaurant. ‘May I recommend the …’
‘Ah, no, I did not come in for a meal. I merely wanted to ask you … you are Mr McKay, I take it?’
The smile fading, Dennis snapped, ‘Yes?’
‘My name is Angus Gunn, and I believe you knew my niece, Katie Mair.’
Dennis did not reply at once. The name had rung a bell, and he was searching his brain to place the man. Wasn’t it Katie herself that had mentioned it? Sammy’s father, that’s who he was – the man she had believed was dead. ‘Katie isn’t your niece,’ he snapped.
‘So you do know her?’ Angus sounded triumphant. ‘Yes, I am afraid I was not entirely truthful, but I would like to know her present address.’
‘What do you want with her?’
‘You may not know that my son is in Ladysbridge …’
Astonished that Sammy’s father had not been told of his death, Dennis played for time. ‘Yes, I knew that, but I’d like you to tell me what you want with Katie.’
Angus had thought this out on his way to Le Denis. ‘I want to hear about my son. Knowing what he thought of me, I did not go to visit him, it might have upset him, but I am quite sure that Katie goes to see him regularly.’
‘Are you now? I wouldn’t be so sure if I was you.’
‘I do not care for your tone of voice, Mr McKay.’
Dennis gave a sardonic snigger. ‘Is that a fact?’
‘I came in here to ask you a civil question and I expect you to give me a civil answer.’
‘Right you are, you asked for it. Sammy died months ago, so Katie wouldn’t be visiting him. Is that civil enough?’
Taken unawares by this information, Angus staggered to a chair and thumped down, his sallow skin a yellowish white, and Dennis regretted springing it on him so suddenly. ‘Are you all right? Will I get you some water? Or a whisky?’
‘Water, if you would be so kind.’
By the time Dennis filled a glass from the carafe on the table, Angus was rather more composed. ‘You will think it strange that I did not know, but I suppose I gave up my right to be informed of his well-being when I did not answer the letter telling me he had been admitted to Ladysbridge. I should have acknowledged it, but I had married again and did not want to run the risk of having him sent back to me. How could I burden my wife with the responsibility of looking after him? You must understand my position.’
‘There’s nothing about you I understand,’ Dennis sneered, ‘and if you’re feeling better, I’d be glad if you left me to run my restaurant. I don’t know where Katie is, though I heard she left Peterhead, and I’m sure she wouldn’t want to see you, anyway.’
Angus tottered to his feet. ‘In that case there is nothing more to be said.’
Watching him stumbling out, Dennis thought that, whatever Mr Gunn wanted with Katie, it wasn’t to hear about Sammy, and he was glad he hadn’t said she might be at Cullen.
‘I should have wrung that impertinent young devil’s neck!’ Angus muttered, as he opened the door of his car, oblivious to the suspicious look a passing woman was giving him. ‘He was making a fool of me, and he does know where Katie is.’
Starting the engine, he recognized the same pains in his chest that he had felt before. ‘I can’t let him see me like this,’ he gasped, driving off slowly and praying that he could hold on until he was out of the town. He had only just reached the open road when he was forced to stop, doubled over the steering wheel in agony.
It was hours before the pains let up and he lay back in his seat sweating, but thankful that he was still alive. How ironic it would have been, he thought, if he had died as a result of trying to find Katie Mair. This had not occurred to him on the other two occasions, but he had learned his lesson now. Nothing – even the hatred he had harboured for years – was more important to him than his own wellbeing.
***
‘Oh, George, I’m glad you’re back,’ Katie cried, when she opened the door to him.
Over her head, the young man caught Mary Ann’s eye and was disconcerted by her unblinking stare. Wondering why she was glaring at him, he decided it could wait, for he had a very important question to ask Katie first. Turning to her again, he said, ‘Put on your coat. We’re going for a walk.’
They had not gone far along the shingle when he stopped. ‘Have you thought about what I asked you before I left?’
‘I’ve thought about little else,’ she smiled.
‘If I say I love you, what would you say?’
‘I’d say I love you, and all.’
‘Honestly, Katie?’
‘Honestly, George. I love you with all my heart.’
He crushed her to him. ‘Will you promise to marry me, then? It’ll not be for a while yet, not till I save enough to set us up in a house, but we could get engaged.’
‘We won’t need to get a house, I couldn’t leave Grandma. We’ll have to live with her … I hope that’s all right?’
‘I’d rather we were on our own, but I won’t mind as long as you’re my wife.’
His kisses left her gasping for breath, and her whole body was aching with love as he pulled her down on the ground. Then, to her dismay, his mouth stopped being gentle, and she wrenched her head away when his tongue tried to prise her teeth apart.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, his breathing unsteady.
‘I don’t like you kissing me like that.’
He pulled her face round. ‘I was kissing you like a man, not a boy. G
od, Katie, I want you.’
‘No, George, not till we’re married.’
‘What difference would it make?’
‘You might … land me in trouble,’ she faltered.
‘What if I do? We’ll get wed all the sooner.’
‘But folk’ll know …’
‘I don’t care a damn about other folk!’
‘George,’ she said, very quietly, ‘if you love me enough, you’ll wait.’
He struggled to regain control of his desire. If this had been Lizann she’d have … but he would never see her again. ‘Righto, Katie,’ he sighed, ‘I don’t want to force you.’
He kissed her again, very gently, teasing her so much that she felt like giving in after all, but when he said, ‘It’s getting too damned cold here,’ she was glad that she hadn’t.
‘What was wrong with your Grandma tonight?’ he asked when they were walking back to the house.
‘What do you mean?’
‘She was glowering at me like I’d done something wrong.’
‘Never heed her,’ Katie smiled. ‘I think she’s jealous of me being young and in love. She tried to put me off you, you know. She said you’d likely been taking up with one of the fisher lassies when you were away.’
‘As if I would.’ He couldn’t give her a proper denial, and hoped she hadn’t noticed.
Katie grasped his hand. ‘I knew you wouldn’t, any more than I’d take up with anybody else when you’re not here.’
‘Have you ever taken up with anybody else? What about that Sammy you told me about?’
‘Sammy? I told you he was simple.’
‘Well, he could have forced you. Can you swear to me you never went to bed with him?’ Her gasp made him free his hand and glare at her. ‘So you did! And you say he was simple? He couldn’t have been all that simple if he knew how to …’
‘I never went to bed with him,’ Katie interrupted, wishing that she hadn’t given herself away. ‘He was scared of the thunder one night, and he … I told him not to, but he … came into my bed beside me.’
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