Brow of the Gallowgate

by Doris Davidson

  Vena helped him to unfasten her buttons, and as soon as his hands came in contact with her warm velvet skin, he began to tremble, the firm roundness of her young breasts, and the hardening of her nipples when he squeezed them, making his own hardness increase to an unbearable degree.

  As Bella Wyness had informed Bathie at the time, ‘He kens where to put it,’ so Charlie took Vena Bruce at almost the same time as his father was taking his mother, the only difference being that Vena was willing and more than cooperative.

  With his desperate need, and his inexperience, it was over in a few seconds, but he knew now what his previous wetness had meant, and although he’d gone soft, it wasn’t long before he responded to Vena’s low moaning to do it again.

  After seeing her back to Nelson Street, he felt his heart swelling with pride at what he’d achieved, and crept up to the middle floor when he arrived home, very relieved that there was no one about to see his excitement.

  Donnie opened his eyes when his brother went into their room. ‘You’re late tonight, Charlie. Where have you been?’

  Almost beside himself with delight, Charlie sat down on the edge of his brother’s bed. ‘Not all that far away.’

  He hadn’t meant to tell anybody, but he couldn’t help it, and the words came tumbling out of him as he described every minute of the time he’d spent with Vena in graphic detail.

  ‘And, God, Donnie, it was . . .’ He was stuck for a word to describe the ecstasy he’d felt. ‘It was just wonderful.’ It was inadequate, but it was all he could think of.

  He lay awake long after Donnie had fallen asleep. What he’d done with Vena had felt so natural that it had banished all the shame of what Bella Wyness had made him do. He’d only been seven or eight at that time, of course, too young to understand, but if he’d known then what he knew now, he’d have done all that she wanted him to do and not felt as guilty as he’d done ever since.

  There were no words to describe the thrill of entering a girl. Their bodies were made to excite, made to receive, made to satisfy. Christ! It was standing up again at the thought of Vena’s young, flexible body. Wait till tomorrow night – he’d have her screaming for more, not just whimpering.

  That eventful hour was bound to have repercussions. Five weeks later, both Bathie Ogilvie and Vena Bruce informed the men concerned that their passion had resulted in the making of a child. The reactions were completely different.

  Albert’s pleasure was tempered by apprehension at what Gavin McKenzie might say about it, in spite of Bathie being as strong as a horse now. He had bitterly regretted the way he had treated his wife that night, but after she took to letting him know when she wanted him, and how much she enjoyed him, even taking the initiative at times, he believed that he’d done the right thing, after all. He felt better than he’d done over all the years he’d been afraid to make love to her. This news that he was to be a father again was just what he needed to give him a new lease of life.

  Charlie’s reception of the same information from Vena was exactly the opposite. ‘Oh, God,’ he whispered in dismay. ‘What are we going to do about it?’

  She looked at him scornfully. ‘You’ll ha’e to marry me, Charlie, that’s what you’ve to do about it.’

  He hadn’t known that what he’d done to her would have this result – Albert having shirked his duty as a father – but he would have died rather than admit his ignorance to this girl, who was much more worldly-wise than he was, he knew that. He was quite unable to cope with his tangled emotions. His body desired her, his heart told him he loved her, but his brain warned him that he’d be in trouble if his parents found out. They would never approve of Vena as a daughter-in-law.

  ‘I can’t afford to marry you,’ he blustered.

  She smiled confidently. ‘Your Da’ll gi’e you mair wages.’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure you’re . . . ?’

  ‘Goin’ to ha’e a bairn?’ She finished his question, then banished his faint hope. ‘Aye. I’ve never been late afore.’

  Charlie had no idea what she meant. All that registered with him was that there was no escape from the nightmare, and he racked his brain trying to think who could advise him what to do. He’d no older brother to confide in, Donnie would know less than he did himself, and the boys at the gymnastic club would laugh if he asked them. Wait, though – there was Billy Gammack. He was three years older and should know all the ins and outs – no, that was an unfortunate turn of phrase.

  ‘Are we goin’ to be standin’ here all night?’ Vena’s voice intruded on his deliberations. ‘Are you nae takin’ me into your Da’s store again? It’s good in there, Charlie, for naebody can see what we’re doin’.’

  His heart fluttered, then almost stopped. ‘I don’t want to be making any more babies,’ he muttered.

  To his discomfiture, she burst out laughing. ‘God, you really dinna ken onythin’ aboot it. Once the bairn’s started, you’ll nae mak’ another, suppose you did it sixty times.’

  But his libido had undergone a thorough dowsing, and he wasn’t capable of doing it once, never mind sixty times. ‘I don’t feel like it tonight,’ he mumbled, shamefacedly.

  ‘Suit yoursel’, then. There’s plenty o’ lads that’ll jump at the chance.’ She turned away and flounced off.

  Charlie ran after her. ‘I’m sorry. I need time to think.’

  She stopped, then smiled. ‘I’ll meet you the morn’s night after the club.’

  Billy Gammack didn’t laugh when Charlie told him. ‘You should have been careful, Charlie, lad. If you’d come out in time, your shot wouldn’t have got inside her.’

  Charlie began to understand the biological truth. ‘It’s too late now, and my father’ll kill me if he finds out.’

  ‘If she’s not far gone, you could get somebody to stop it.’

  ‘Are there people who do that?’

  ‘It’s against the law, of course, and it’s a bit dangerous, but maybe she knows somebody herself.’

  Charlie didn’t mind about breaking the law, but he wanted nothing to do with anything that could endanger Vena’s life. ‘I’ll just have to tell my father, I suppose.’

  As soon as Charlie met her, Vena said, ‘My Ma’s boilin’ at you. She says you’ll ha’e to marry me, an’ if you havena tell’t your Da by the weekend, she’s goin’ to go to the shop an’ tell him hersel’, in front o’ a’ his customers.’

  ‘I’ll tell him, Vena, honestly.’ Her moist red lips and her rounded curves were driving him mad again, so, since he knew it would make no difference how often he made love to her now, he took her arm and walked her towards the Links, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t be seen there.

  ‘Are we nae goin’ into your Da’s store the night?’

  ‘I don’t want to risk my father seeing us before I have a chance to speak to him.’ The truth was, he was afraid he’d fail her, so close to his home, with all he had on his mind.

  ‘It’ll nae hide for lang, ye ken,’ she taunted.

  He knew that. When he was younger, he’d often wondered why his mother sometimes grew fat, then went thin again after a new baby came along. When he’d asked her about it, she’d told him that babies came out of their mothers’ stomachs, but what she should have told him, he reflected ruefully, was how they got there in the first place.

  He forgot his worries in the thrills of making love to Vena, and, after he’d seen her home, he was sure that he wanted to marry her, whatever his father might say. He loved her, and she loved him, and that was all that counted, especially with a baby on the way.

  His courage ebbed as he was climbing the outside stairs, and he found himself praying that he wouldn’t see anyone when he went in, but both his parents were sitting in the kitchen, talking over a cup of tea.

  He couldn’t bring himself to say anything in front of his mother, and waited, somewhat impatiently, for her to go to bed.

  At last, she stood up. ‘Goodnight, Charlie. You won’t be long, will you, Albert?’<
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  ‘I’ll be through in a minute.’ Albert was smoking the pipe he’d taken to using, but never in the bedroom.

  Charlie wanted no interruption, so, as soon as the door closed behind her, he said, ‘Father, I’ve something to tell you. Is Donnie home yet?’

  ‘Half an hour ago.’ Albert’s eyes twinkled. ‘Is it a lass that keeps you out?’

  ‘Yes.’ Charlie was glad of the opening. ‘That’s what I want to speak to you about, Father.’

  ‘You’ll be wanting to know the facts of life. Is that it?’

  ‘No, I think I’ve found them out for myself.’

  ‘The lads at the club have been saying things, have they, and you’re not sure if they’ve been pulling your leg?’

  ‘It’s not that. I’ve been . . . I didn’t know . . .’

  Albert’s brows had shot down, and the genial smile had been wiped from his face. ‘Are you trying to tell me you’ve put a lassie in the family way?’

  ‘I didn’t know that’s what would happen when I . . . did it.’ The boy’s eyes were fixed fearfully on his father.

  Albert took his fist hard down on the table. ‘Christ, Charlie. Have you no bloody sense? You must have known.’

  ‘No, I’m telling you the truth. It was a terrible shock when Vena told me.’

  ‘Vena? Vena who? Where does she come from?’ Albert suddenly recalled Arthur Johnstone’s face, purple with anger, and tried to keep himself under control.

  ‘She’s Vena Bruce, and she lives in Nelson Street.’

  ‘What does her father work at?’

  ‘She hasn’t got a father.’ She had told him that once, when he had asked her the same question.

  ‘He’s dead, is he? Well, her mother should have told her to respect her body.’

  ‘She says we’ll have to get married now.’

  ‘Does she, though?’ Albert couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. ‘How old is she, anyway?’

  ‘She’s sixteen, the same as me, and the same age as Mother said she was when she married you.’

  Albert let this pass. ‘Do you want to marry her?’

  Charlie met his father’s stony eyes without flinching. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’ He didn’t want to sound too eager.

  ‘Wouldn’t mind? That sounds damned lukewarm to me. Do you love her enough to live with her for the rest of your life?’

  ‘I couldn’t live without her,’ Charlie said, simply.

  Albert sighed. This wasn’t what he wanted for his eldest son, and he could fully understand how Bathie’s father had felt all those years ago, but maybe this was his own fault for not warning the boy. And it wasn’t as bad as it might have been, seeing Charlie loved the girl, but it was bad enough.

  ‘Have you considered what marriage would mean?’ he said, more kindly. ‘Where you would live, what you would live on?’

  ‘Couldn’t you give me more wages?’

  Albert’s fingers massaged his chin, thoughtfully. The boy’s wages weren’t big enough to rent a house, never mind support a wife and child, so there was only one thing to do.

  ‘I could, and I suppose you could have the attics,’ he said, slowly, ‘but God knows what your mother’s going to say about all this.’

  It had been his father’s reaction that Charlie had been dreading, and it hadn’t been too bad, after all, but his mother! She’d despise him for what he’d done.

  ‘How far on’s this Vena?’

  ‘About five weeks, I think.’

  ‘Good God! The same as your mother.’

  ‘Is Mother going to have another . . . ?’ Charlie’s gorge rose as he pictured his father doing to her what he’d done to Vena. A horrifying thought struck him, and he braced himself to ask, ‘Did you and Mother have to get married?’

  ‘No, we did not!’ Albert’s voice rose indignantly. ‘I respected your mother – I still do – and I never touched her till our wedding night.’

  ‘Will you tell Mother about Vena, please, for I can’t face her?’ The boy felt he’d had enough for one night.

  ‘I’ll tell her when I go through. Get upstairs to your bed now, and pray she doesn’t miscarry from the shock of it.’

  In his single bed, in the room he shared with Donnie, Charlie couldn’t get over how lightly he’d got off so far. His father had surprised him by his eventual calm acceptance of the situation, but his mother might be more difficult. Still, his father would likely talk her round, and he’d likely offer to pay for the wedding, under the circumstances.

  Vena would be delighted about the attics, and he could hardly wait until they were installed in their own little love nest, away from the rest of his family.

  All things considered, Charlie thought contentedly, it had turned out quite well for him after all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  At ten past nine in the shop the next morning, Albert drew Charlie aside. ‘I promised your mother I’d send you up as soon as the young ones went to school.’

  Charlie’s heart sank. His mother had said nothing during breakfast, but she’d been biding her time. He went slowly out of the side door into the close, then up the iron stairs.

  When he stood in the kitchen, waiting apprehensively, Bathie said, ‘Sit down, Charlie, for goodness sake.’

  He sat on the edge of one of the wooden chairs, his knees knocking, his heart palpitating. ‘You want to speak . . . ?’

  ‘You know what I want to speak about, Charlie. I was shocked last night when I learned about . . . what you’ve done to . . . What’s the girl’s name?’

  ‘Vena. Vena Bruce. We love each other.’

  Bathie looked at him keenly. ‘Isn’t it more a case of you loving the idea of being in love with her, this free and easy girl who allowed you to have your way with her?’

  The rather old-fashioned phrase annoyed him, and he tried to forget the memory of Vena helping him to undo her buttons, and then pleading with him to take her again. ‘I . . . I forced her to do it,’ he blustered.

  ‘Is she a nice girl? Is she a nice nice girl?’

  He doubted if his mother would think so, but said firmly, ‘Of course she’s a nice girl, and we’re going to get married, no matter what you say. Father’s not against it, for he told me we could have the attics.’

  ‘He told me, too, and I must say I was very surprised.’ Bathie paused for a moment. ‘You’d better ask her to come to supper on Sunday, so we can get to know her.’

  They’d all have to meet Vena some time, and he wasn’t so blind as to think they’d approve of her, but it was his life.

  ‘All right,’ he said reluctantly, ‘I’ll ask her, but I don’t know if she’ll come. She won’t like being put on display for you all to gape at and criticize.’

  ‘Is she a bit shy?’ Bathie appeared to be pleased about this, so he didn’t correct her.

  He’d made no arangements to meet the girl that night, but he couldn’t wait to tell her what had happened, and went to Nelson Street to pass on the invitation. When the door was thrown open, he stared in amazement at the woman he presumed must be Vena’s mother.

  An enormous mass of fat, her skin was pock-marked, her greasy lank hair hung untidily round her shoulders, her face and hands were filthy. The torn apron she was wearing was stained with gravy, or something brown, and her collar had bits of egg on it. She was by far the most revolting woman he had ever seen.

  She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to state his business, and he tried not to show his revulsion. ‘Is Vena in, please? It’s Charlie Ogilvie.’

  ‘She’s nae in, the now. She’s . . . eh . . . away seein’ her auntie, but she shouldna be lang. Come in an’ wait.’

  Smirking broadly, she led him into an equally revolting room, where three young children, with nothing covering their nether regions, were squatting on the bare boards of the floor. He let his eyes travel no farther, afraid of what he might see.

  Mrs Bruce rushed over to a rickety, wooden rocking chair, with a dark-stained cushion. ‘So you’r
e Charlie Ogilvie, are you? Well, you can sit here, if you wait till I gi’e it a wipe. The littlest ane pee’d on it a wee while ago.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ he said, hastily. ‘I prefer to stand.’

  ‘Suit yoursel’.’ She stopped the desultory rubbing, and set her own ample posterior on the chair, her piercing blue eyes squinting up at him. ‘Are you intendin’ to stand by my Vena now you’ve got her in a mess?’

  It hit him in the face, like a douche of cold water, that this . . . creature would be his mother-in-law if he agreed, but he couldn’t do anything about that. ‘Yes, I want to marry her, and my father says we can have the two rooms in our attics.’

  ‘Well, now.’ She seemed satisfied with that. ‘So you’ve tell’t your Da, have you?’

  ‘I told him last night.’

  While she rocked gently backwards and forwards, mulling over her daughter’s good fortune, Charlie tried to think of something to say to break the overpowering silence. The three children were gazing open-mouthed at him, and he wondered what kind of man their father had been. He must have been glad to get away from this lot.

  ‘How long is it since your husband died, Mrs Bruce?’

  She let out a blood-curdling cackle. ‘My husband? That’s a good ane. I’ve never had a husband.’

  ‘But . . . I thought. . . you’ve got four children?’

  She threw back her head, her roar of laughter making the cracked window rattle. ‘I’ve got five bairns, by five different fathers. Mina’s awa’ oot, but she’s the auldest.’ His shocked face made her stop to laugh once more, then she wiped her eyes and shook her head. ‘I wasna so lucky as Vena, though, for nane o’ them would admit the bairn was his. I wasna even sure mysel’, whiles.’ She gave another cackle and winked lewdly.

  The opening of the door came as a lifeline to Charlie, but when Vena came in, she seemed embarrassed to find him there.