Towards a Dark Horizon

by Maureen Reynolds

  Much later that night, he arrived back home. I didn’t hear him come in so it must have been very late indeed but that didn’t mean he was in the company of Mrs Connors all this time. Perhaps he had paid a visit to Joe but then, if I believed that, I would believe anything.

  I asked him the next morning. ‘Where were you last night, Dad? Rosie was fair mad at you.’

  He looked horror-stricken. ‘Oh, no! I forgot about her. I was supposed to have my tea with her and her mother.’

  ‘Aye, she said so,’ I told him bluntly, still feeling angry with him.

  ‘Was she annoyed?’

  I recalled her red face and her manner. I told him the truth.

  ‘I just forgot. I just wish she wouldn’t want me to visit her every night. It’s just not possible.’

  Of course it wasn’t – not now that the cool, yellow-dressed Margot was on the scene.

  I asked him, ‘Is there any news about Harry?’

  He looked unhappy as he shook his head. ‘I just wish I knew what was in his mind that day and maybe I could have helped him.’

  I knew this was the truth because he was fond of Harry. Then something I had ignored last night reared its ugly head.

  ‘Why did you tell Rosie that Harry’s wife was an old woman?’

  He looked guilty. ‘Och, well, Ann, you know what women are like. I didn’t want Rosie to feel jealous so I just told her a wee white lie. I don’t want her to think I’m enjoying myself with another woman.’

  He could have fooled me. ‘What are you doing then, Dad, if you’re not enjoying yourself in the company of Mrs Connors? I mean you’ve been to see her just about every night since June.’

  He was annoyed. ‘No, I haven’t – not every night.’

  ‘Well, maybe that’s an overstatement but it looks like it. You’re ignoring Rosie and it’s not fair because she doesn’t deserve this. Either tell her the truth about Mrs Connors and give her up completely or stop seeing Mrs Connors.’

  He looked at me with dismay. ‘That’s a terrible thing to tell your father. I’m just seeing a woman through a bad patch. If you can’t help someone when they need it, then it’s a sorry old world.’

  ‘So you’re just helping her come to terms with the disappearance of her husband?’

  He was hurt. ‘Of course I am. What do you take me for? Harry was one of the best gaffers a man could have and I just wish I knew what had happened to him.’

  I suddenly felt sorry for him and I knew I shouldn’t have questioned him like this. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. It’s my fault and I know it’s none of my business but Rosie was really upset last night and I felt sorry for her.’

  ‘I’m sorry as well, Ann, but I really forgot about her. Still, I’ll go to see her tonight.’ He seemed almost cheery as he picked up his piece bag and hurried through the door.

  Within a minute he was back. ‘Blast it but I forgot – I promised to see Mrs Connors later to cut the grass for her.’

  ‘To cut her grass?’ I was mystified.

  He explained, ‘Well, you saw the size of yon garden she’s got. Somebody has to keep it neat.’

  ‘Does she not employ a gardener?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, seemingly Harry aye did it and I feel I have to keep it shipshape until he turns up.’

  ‘So you think he’ll do that, Dad? Turn up I mean.’

  He looked unhappy. ‘Nobody knows what to think any more – even Mr Pringle, my boss. He goes to see Mrs Connors as well but he aye takes his wife along with him for some reason. Margot gets a good laugh at it.’

  ‘Does he look like his brother? Maddie’s dad?’

  He shook his head. ‘Maybe it’s because Maddie’s dad is a solicitor and that gives him a stuffy look.’ He stopped when he saw my face. ‘That doesn’t matter because Maddie’s dad is a great man but he is very precise while his brother is more fun. He likes a good laugh and a joke.’

  Mentally I gave full marks to Mrs Pringle for not letting her husband go to see Mrs Connors on his own. For some reason, I couldn’t get her cool image out of my mind.

  Later that week, I ran into Minnie Fraser and her little boy. The hot spell had continued and it felt as if every day was hotter than the one before. Minnie was still as I remembered her. Her small slim figure and elfish face with its almond-shaped eyes and short dark hair always reminded me of Hiawatha’s bride Minnehaha. This was my secret pet name for her.

  Her little boy didn’t resemble her in the slightest and I thought he must take his looks from his father. Fair haired with blue eyes, he was eating a large ice-cream cone. The ice cream was all over his face and it had even dripped down the front of his shirt and short trousers.

  Minnie seemed pleased to see me. ‘How is Danny?’ she asked. Before I could reply, she said, ‘I was really sorry to hear about his broken engagement, Ann.’

  I didn’t realise it was common knowledge but I should have guessed that bad news always gets around.

  ‘I don’t know Maddie very well but I’ve aye been fond of Danny so it’s a rotten shame this has happened.’ She sounded genuine.

  I asked her, ‘Did Danny tell you, Minnie?’

  She grinned. ‘No, it was Bella. I met her a while ago and she told me.’

  Bella – I might have guessed. I thought my outburst would maybe have cured her but it would seem that old habits die hard – especially with her because gossip was like her life’s blood.

  Minnie continued, ‘I don’t want to hear chapter and verse, Ann, but I wanted to say how sorry I am about it.’

  She glanced down at Peter, her son, as he dropped his ice-cream cone. For a moment, I thought he was about to lick it up from the pavement but she pulled him away and he burst into tears.

  I turned to go on my way but she seemed desperate for company. She said, ‘I can’t stand in the street with the bairn howling like this. Can you come up to the house?’

  The schools were back after the summer holiday and I had an hour to spare so I nodded. We went to her mother’s house in the Hawkhill with the boy still crying for his lost ice cream.

  ‘I’ll get you another one, Peter, so just be quiet. Everybody is looking at you.’ This made him cry even louder but, thankfully, we soon reached her close which lay between Hunter Street and Kincardine Street. Like most of the houses in this teeming part of the town, the close was long and dark and her mother lived on the third floor of a dingy-looking tenement.

  Climbing the stairs seemed to tire her son out and he almost stopped crying, just giving a heavy sob now and again.

  ‘I hope my mother is out,’ she said. ‘She did say she was going to the Sosh for her messages.’ This was the large Co-operative grocery shop which was a few hundred yards up the street – a shop that catered for the needs of most of the families who lived around its doors.

  She ushered me into a small dark kitchen that looked quite bleak. This was because the fire was unlit and the grate resembled a yawning sooty mouth. My own kitchen looked the same and it was clear to see that a bright glowing fire was what made these rooms look cosy.

  But, as it turned out, Mrs McFarlane wasn’t at the shop. She was on her knees with a tin of polish and a duster and the linoleum had a lovely shine which matched the rest of the immaculately clean room. She took one look at her grandson and stormed. ‘For heaven’s sake, Minnie, can you not keep your laddie clean? He’s aye clarted with something – if it’s not mud, then it’s ice cream.’

  At the mention of the latter, the boy burst into a fresh bout of tears. Mrs McFarlane paid no heed to his howls as she carried him over to the sink and sat him on the wooden coal bunker. Rinsing a cloth in cold water, she vigorously wiped his face which made him howl even more. Meanwhile his granny was having no sympathy with him.

  She then inspected his hands and rolled her eyes at her daughter. ‘Will you look at the dirt? He looks like he’s been down a coal mine. I’m aye telling you to keep him clean but do you listen? No, you don’t.’

  By this time I knew
Minnie was regretting asking me to the house but, to our relief, her mother picked up her message bag, took Peter’s hand and they both departed for the shop. He was still grumbling about his lost ice cream.

  The room was quiet after they went and we sat down on the chairs beside the unlit fire. They were covered in a prickly sort of fabric and the chair backs were snowy white linen.

  Minnie poured out two glasses of lemonade and we sat in silence for a few moments. As she was a girl I hardly knew, I didn’t know what to say but, thankfully, she was eager to talk.

  ‘I don’t know what to do, Ann. I can’t get a house of my own because they’re like gold dust to rent.’

  I knew what she meant. We had been in the same boat when we’d given up our house after mum’s death but, thankfully, we had managed to get our present flat.

  ‘My man is still in Glasgow and he’s living in the house we have there but I was hoping he would put in for another transfer back to the Overgate shop.’

  I wondered if she knew about Danny’s transfer request.

  It became obvious that she did because she went on to say, ‘If Peter does come back here, then Danny can move to his job in Glasgow. The only thing is that Peter’s quite happy there and it was just me who couldn’t make any friends. I know it’s my fault because I’m too quiet but I get really lonely with just the bairn for company.’

  She looked so unhappy that I couldn’t help but ask her, ‘So you want to stay here and hope that Peter will also come back?’

  She nodded. ‘But he’ll not come back to stay with my mother. She’s so house-proud that it’s unbelievable. You saw how she was with the bairn. I’m frightened to get a bit of dirt on him and I’m aye washing him. It’s no life for a bairn to live like that.’

  ‘And there’s no chance of a house in the near future?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve tried all the house factors in the town but there’s nothing available.’

  I didn’t know what to say to her. I could hardly tell her that I always associated her not with a house but a wigwam on some Red Indian reservation.

  ‘I’ve made up my mind tae go back to Glasgow,’ she sighed.

  At that moment her mother appeared with her bag in one hand and a whimpering Peter in the other.

  She sounded exasperated. ‘Will you take this grumbling bairn away, Minnie? He’s been whinging all the time I’ve been in the shop.’

  Minnie took his hand and turned to me. ‘I’ll walk down the road with you, Ann.’

  We set off and, when we reached the small ice-cream shop, she bought the boy another cone.

  She warned him, ‘Now make sure you don’t make a mess because it annoys your granny.’

  She looked at me, her face screwed up in the sun. ‘I have to get away from my mother because she’s driving me barmy. As I was saying when she came in, it’s not that I hate Glasgow – it’s a great place – and it is my fault that I’m lonely. I know that.’

  I felt sorry for her and for little Peter. I knew her mother was extremely house-proud and bossy because granny told me this when Minnie got married. As Granny had said at the time, ‘Her mother will not be pleased with a bairn around the house. I’ve heard she washes and polishes her floors twice a day.’ At the time, I hadn’t believed it but it was true. Poor Minnie and Peter had to toe the line in the house or else return to Glasgow where Minnie was unhappy. I made a mental note to keep an eye out for an empty house for her but I also thought that maybe it would be best if she went back to her husband and tried again to settle down.

  The sun beat down from a cloudless blue sky and the heat was almost unbearable. I glanced at Peter and, to my dismay, his ice cream had melted and was now dripping down his shirt front.

  Minnie cried out, ‘I told you to keep clean, Peter, and now look at you!’

  ‘It’s not his fault, Minnie. It’s the heat and the poor bairn can’t eat it quickly enough.’

  She sighed loudly. ‘I sometimes think I’m getting to be as bad as my mother.’

  By now we had reached the Overgate and I suggested they come up to Granny’s house to clean him up.

  Granny was pleased to see them. ‘My, he’s getting to be a big laddie, Minnie.’

  We cleaned him up as best we could while Granny made some tea. Peter found a box of old comics that had once belonged to Lily and he sat quietly on the floor to look at them.

  Minnie relaxed. ‘Oh, this is great – being able to sit down without worrying about dropping crumbs on the floor.’

  Granny smiled at her. ‘Well, you’re welcome to come here for a visit any time you like.’

  Later on, as she was leaving, Minnie said, ‘If I do go back to Glasgow, it’ll mean that Danny won’t get his transfer – at least not this one. Will he mind?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, Minnie. I suppose he’ll just have to stay where he is and get on with it.’

  She smiled. ‘Well, as long as he’ll not be disappointed.’

  As I watched them walk away towards the Hawkhill, I knew her mind was made up.

  One thing I was thankful for was the fact I hadn’t seen Rosie since her angry exchange that night and I had no idea if Dad was still seeing her. He was still visiting Margot Connors but he had to sort out his own problems as I had enough to cope with.

  The hot weather lasted for most of that week with the temperature rising each day. The paper shop was dim and cool and I was thankful for that.

  Sylvia, Edith and Amy appeared each morning wearing their pinnies but no coats. Full of life and chatter, they bounded into the shop like young deer.

  ‘The mill is so warm that we’re just wearing our peenies over our petticoats,’ said Sylvia, buying the usual cigarettes and sweeties.

  Connie gazed at her in mock alarm. ‘Don’t you lassies go showing your legs to the gaffer or else I’ll get to hear about it.’

  The three girls burst into peals of laughter.

  ‘The gaffer,’ said Amy. ‘Have you seen him, Connie? He’s an old man about fifty. He’s forgotten what a woman’s legs look like.’

  On that cheery note, they all ran off towards their work while Connie shook her head.

  ‘If they think being fifty is old what does that make me?’

  I thought of Margot. What was her age? I wondered.

  I was waiting for Lily at the school gates when the sky became ominously black. I was also without a coat and I hoped the rain would hold off till we were home. But it didn’t. Suddenly a loud crack of thunder sounded overhead and it was followed by large drops of rain. Lily appeared and we raced up the road towards the house. The rain became a torrent and lightning lit up the black clouds. Lily was frightened but I put my arm around her as we raced through the deep puddles of rainwater. By the time we reached home, we were both soaked and we had to strip off our wet clothes. Leaving large wet puddles on the kitchen floor.

  As I dried her hair, Lily said, ‘I hope it’s not like this tonight when we go down to Granny’s. I don’t like the thunder and lightning.’

  I confessed that I didn’t like it either. ‘I’m sure the storm will be over by then, Lily.’

  But it wasn’t. Dad arrived home soaking wet and in a bad mood. Whether because of the soaking or the fact he couldn’t visit Margot I wasn’t sure.

  ‘Any word about Harry, Dad?’

  He shook his head.

  We ate our tea and then listened to the wireless. Dad couldn’t settle and he was getting on my nerves. He kept walking over to the window to see if the rain had stopped and, when he saw it hadn’t, he drummed his fingers against the arm of the fireside chair.

  ‘What’s the matter, Daddy?’ asked Lily, also noticing his restlessness.

  He smiled at her. ‘Nothing’s the matter, wee pet. It’s just that I’ve got a lot of grass to cut at Mrs Connor’s house and this rain is stopping me.’

  I looked at him cynically – a trait I was aware of. As I grew older, I had noticed how cynical I had become and I was trying hard not to be.


  He saw me and raised his eyebrows, as much as to say, ‘What? Don’t you believe me?’

  It was very hard to believe that he loved grass-cutting so much that he couldn’t sit in peace in his own home. No, it was more like it was Margot Connors he was missing and it was then that I realised that Rosie had no chance.

  It was nine o’clock before the rain stopped. I quickly got Lily ready and we set off towards the Overgate while Dad made his way towards Margot and the grass. He muttered as he went through the door, ‘I don’t suppose I’ll get it cut tonight but I better go and tell her I’ll do it tomorrow.’

  As far as I was concerned, he could tell her anything he wanted. I was still annoyed at his treatment of Rosie.

  The storm had cleared the air and it was much fresher. The pavements gleamed in a late burst of sunshine and a mini river ran down the gutter, carrying loads of rubbish in its wake.

  Lily kept glancing at the sky in case of more thunder but all was calm. Granny thought we weren’t coming and Lily told her the whole story of her journey through the storm. She made it sound so dramatic that I wondered if we had both been in the same rainstorm. ‘The jagged lightning was just over my head, Granny, and Ann had to cover me up because it was thunder as well. The rain was stotting off the pavement and we got soaked.’

  Granny nodded in harmony and the story went on and on. I left them in the middle of it.

  The storm caused some flooding in Dock Street and turned the Tay into a seething mass as brown water flowed into the drains and into the river.

  At 1.30 p.m. the next day, the river gave up its dead. Harry Connors’ body was found.

  Dad arrived home early. I was barely in the house with Lily after school when he hurried through the door.

  ‘I’ll not be here for my tea,’ he said, quickly filling the basin to get shaved. ‘Mr Pringle and I have to visit Mrs Connors. Her man’s body was washed up today.’

  I sat down, numb with shock. ‘Oh, no, Dad, what a shame for his wife.’

  There were tears in his eyes. ‘Aye, it’s a damn shame. He was a great guy and really good to me. I’ll miss him as well.’