The New Breadmakers

by Margaret Thomson-Davis

Sammy felt tense. He was wondering if he dared make another move on Julie. Should he take advantage of the back row in the Princes and put his arm around her? The mere thought made him sweat. Yet he was beginning to realise that he could not go on as he had been. It had become too much of a strain to be in her company so often, to be so close to her and yet so far away. He was beginning to have wet dreams about her. He had made passionate love to her a hundred times in his imagination. If she pushed him away again, so be it. But their relationship had to change one way or another.

  They walked along Springburn Road cheerily, arm in arm. Feeling her body so near to his made him ache inside, he wanted her so painfully.

  In the cinema, the usherette showed them to seats in the back row and, after they settled down, he stretched his arm along the back of her seat. Then he tightened it around her shoulders. She smiled up at him.

  ‘Oh Julie,’ he said. Then before he could say or do anything else, she kissed him.

  23

  ‘If I go on like this,’ Catriona confided to Madge, ‘I’ll have to employ a full-time assistant.’

  ‘See what I’ve always said? The luck of the Irish. I bet you’re making a fortune. You are, aren’t you, hen?’

  ‘Well, not a fortune exactly but I’m doing surprisingly well.’

  ‘What’s Melvin saying to it? Proud as punch of you, I bet, eh?’

  Catriona immediately regretted saying anything about her business to Madge.

  ‘I don’t tell him anything about it and I don’t want you to mention it either.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘He’s not interested. He doesn’t want to know. Now, promise me, Madge.’

  ‘Here, I know what you’re up to. You’re coining it and stacking it all up for yourself. Och, well, good luck to you, hen.’

  ‘Thanks, Madge.’

  ‘I’d do the same myself if I could. But what chance have I got with seven weans and that big useless midden I’m married to?’

  ‘You know fine that you wouldn’t want it any other way. You love the lot of them, including Alec. Especially Alec.’

  ‘Listen, hen, I could murder the lot of them. First they were screaming at Elvis and hopping about like maniacs at that Bill Hayley, now it’s The Beatles and see these wee pelmets of skirts – it’s not decent. Girls are the worst. That’s another thing you’re lucky with – you haven’t got girls.’

  Catriona gave up. Her mind turned again to the success of her business or complementary therapy practice as it was known. She didn’t need to advertise now. She had built up quite a reputation. Even a few men came to her for help, mostly for sports injuries. She had got to know a young physiotherapist called Patricia Brown through Andrew, who had worked with her during one of his hospital placements. Quite often, she would suggest physiotherapy as well as her medicines, and Patricia would treat these patients in the next room. It only happened occasionally but, still, it could be a possibility to let out that other room to somebody like Patricia. Although it probably wouldn’t be her, because it looked as if Patricia was going to get married and move to Inverness. But there would be plenty of other physios or osteopaths who might be glad of a room. Osteopathy was becoming more and more acceptable. It might be tricky, though, to have someone else working regularly without Melvin knowing. He would definitely object to that if he found out.

  Her ‘little hobby’ was one thing and he had long since happily accepted it. He never bothered to ask her how she was getting on or even go through to the back to see what was happening. As long as the house was kept clean and polished, his meal was ready for him when he arrived home in the evening and the television was switched on and as long as she was outwardly the quiet, acquiescent little wife, he was happy and content. Or at least as happy and content as a man of his temperament was able to be. He complained about the customers. He complained about the bakers and the girls in the shop. Even the cleaner, it seemed, didn’t do her job as well as she should. He always found something to grumble about. If it wasn’t people, it was the state of the nation or the weather. Everything accentuated the sour downward twist of his mouth. He even grumbled about the television, although he watched it avidly every night. Grumbling had just become a habit with him. He used to read the newspapers in the evenings but now he read them during his morning tea break in the bakehouse. That way he didn’t miss a moment’s TV. He now had a tray attached to the arm of his easy chair so that he could watch the screen while he ate. He even watched the adverts.

  It would have driven Catriona mad if she hadn’t been able to enjoy a secret life of her own while he was at the bakery during the day. She was even attending a course on homeopathic treatment at the university without Melvin knowing. Once she got a certificate she would have it framed and hung on the wall of her consulting room. Although she had been doing exceptionally well without any certificate. Her bank account – in a different bank from the one where Melvin had his account – was amazingly healthy. She had even increased her fees and no one had objected. Money was pouring in. If Madge had known exactly how much she was ‘coining’ and ‘stacking away’ for herself, she would have gone on and on ad nauseam about how lucky Catriona was. Madge’s mind was closed to all but her own problems. She could be very kind and supportive but she had this fixed idea that her friend Catriona was the luckiest woman on the planet.

  She did work hard, whether Madge believed it or not. And there was always the element of underlying stress and fear that Melvin would find out how successful she was and put a stop to all her efforts. He would be furious. He wouldn’t be able to cope with a successful woman. Especially now that his business was not nearly as successful as it used to be. Supermarkets had arrived in a big way and, on their shelves, was the magical wrapped and sliced white bread.

  Most housewives, mothers especially, regarded it as the best invention since the wheel. No more hacking at a loaf with a half-blunt knife. Now children’s sandwiches would be made with ease No more crumbs on the kitchen floor. The children could even help themselves.

  These days there was a huge range of food offered on supermarket shelves, all attractively packaged. Now that refrigeration was the thing in shops and most homes, the supermarkets had fresh fish on display. There were cheeses and beautiful fruit from all round the world. It was like a whole new, magic world. Also, because of home refrigerators, shopping was no longer a daily necessity. Weekly shopping was becoming more convenient. It suited Catriona very well. As did all the new convenience food, like tinned soup and rice pudding. Rice pudding especially was a godsend. Previously it had seemed to take all morning in the kitchen making it. Now there were ready-made meals and even ‘boil in the bag’ foods. She could whip up a meal for Melvin, and Fergus and Andrew if they were there, in no time at all. All this helped her to cover up her other activities – Melvin still thought she had been busy all day in the kitchen as well as cleaning and polishing the house.

  But what with the washing machine, the Hoover and all the other gadgets she had, and the cleaning lady a couple of mornings a week, she never thought about housework. She never wasted any time on the house.

  In the evenings, Melvin liked her to sit with him with a tray on her knee and watch television. Once a week, she managed to get out to visit Madge or Julie without too much fuss. He grumbled of course, but then something on the box would catch his eye and he’d burst out in exasperation, ‘Away you go before you make me miss Opportunity Knocks.’ Or whatever programme it happened to be.

  Now she didn’t see so much of Julie because she had started going out with Sammy Hunter. Catriona was glad for them both. At the same time it made her feel sad. She longed to love and be loved as they had been and were again. Most of the time, though, she was able to concentrate on her job and feel fulfilled in that. It was only at times when she saw Julie and Sammy strolling happily along, arm in arm, that she felt the pangs of longing. Even visiting Madge could trigger off emotional pain. Madge was the happy centre of her brood and, despite
all the names she called him, she had a loving husband. Not just loving either but handsome and sexy. Madge was the lucky one.

  To counteract these feelings of desperate unhappiness, Catriona would seek comfort from examining her bank book like a miser nursing a secret hoard of gold. It gave her some sense of worth and self-confidence to have the proof of her success in facts and figures before her eyes. Here was the proof that she was not the useless, hopeless, laughable idiot that Melvin had always made her out to be.

  Even with the facts and figures, though, she still took a lot of convincing. For so long, first with her mother and then with Melvin, she had been brainwashed to believe that she was not only helpless and hopeless but wicked. Deep down, she still believed it. And because she still believed it, she continued to try her best to please her mother and to be nice to her. For the same reason, she continued to try to please Melvin and see to his every need and comfort. She also worried about the shop. She could never be cruel enough to say, ‘I told you so’, or ‘I warned you ages ago but you just told me to shut up.’ But the supermarkets were affecting Melvin’s trade and the trade of many small corner shops, just as she’d feared they would. Now she hardly dared to think what would happen to the bakery if trade continued to decline in the way that it seemed to be going.

  Melvin hadn’t said anything. He would never be able to admit failure. She had taken a look at the books, however, and had spoken to Baldy. They were losing customers, all right. Baldy was planning to get married and had confided in Catriona that he was worried about losing his job. She had assured him that there could be no danger of that. He was the most valuable and necessary worker in McNair’s.

  She wasn’t so sure herself that there was no danger, though. The prospect of Melvin losing the shop was too awful to contemplate. Every time anything went wrong, he always blamed her. She couldn’t quite see how he could blame her for the shop failing but no doubt he’d find some way. Then the vision came to her of Melvin being in the house all day. She couldn’t bear to dwell on such a terrible prospect and hastily banished it from her mind.

  Sammy’s father had been ill, she’d heard, and Mrs Hunter wanted to go back to look after him but Sammy wouldn’t let her. Quite a few people thought this was terrible of Sammy.

  Mrs Pater said, ‘And him supposed to be a Christian. Of course, he’s some queer sect. Quakers, I think they call themselves. What kind of Christians are they supposed to be?’

  Mrs Pater lived up the same close in Broomknowes Road as the McKechnies, who belonged to the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Apparently, she and Mrs McKechnie had crossed swords more than once and, as a result, Mrs Pater had no time for what she called ‘queer sects’.

  Madge also lived up that close and never, it seemed, had any problem with the McKechnies. But then Madge thought about everybody in a friendly, good-natured, trusting kind of way. Except about Alec, of course. Catriona thought how wise Sammy was in protecting his mother from the grim fate of nursing that awful old man. She’d never liked Hodge Hunter. The fact that Melvin liked him was enough to put her off. He and Melvin had their army days in common. A couple of times Mr Hunter had visited them in the past and they had spoken in loud, aggressive, boasting voices about nothing else and both had treated her like a servant and one of the lower orders at that. Firstly, Melvin had showed Mr Hunter around the house. That was soon after he’d first met the old man and when they’d not long moved in to Botanic Crescent. Melvin had just wanted to show off his big house.

  Hunter, apart from reminiscing about the army, had wanted to make Melvin see the advantages of joining the Masons. But Melvin was not a social kind of person. Catriona couldn’t imagine him just going out for a drink with friends for a laugh and a blether about football, for instance. She wasn’t sure what men did or talked about at Masonic meetings.

  Anyway, she hoped for Mrs Hunter’s sake that Sammy’s way would prevail and the old woman would never again be trapped and isolated in that eerie house with that horrible old man.

  At least Melvin’s father hadn’t been that bad. Then Catriona suddenly remembered what age Melvin was. Already he looked like an old man.

  ‘Oh, God,’ she thought. ‘Oh, my God!’

  24

  Sammy knew perfectly well what Julie was up to. She did not want to get a house in Bishopbriggs simply because, as she insisted, ‘It’s such a lovely place. So near the Campsie Hills. Yet it’s only fifteen or twenty minutes away from the centre of town in the bus. And there’s the railway station as well. There’s even a nice wee cinema. What could be handier?’

  What indeed? But handier for seeing her daughter was what she really meant.

  He had no personal objection to looking for a house in Bishopbriggs and starting a new life there with Julie. But there were problems and not just of Julie forever hanging about trying to catch a glimpse of Alice. (She’d found out her daughter’s name when she heard one of the other schoolgirls call it out.) There was the problem with his mother as well. If he and Julie got a house in Bishopbriggs, he wanted his mother to come with them. Julie assured him that she wouldn’t mind. She was fond of his mother and got on very well with her. His mother, however, was refusing to leave the Springburn flat.

  ‘I’ll be fine here, son. It’s such a cheery wee house, being on the main road like this. I’m never lonely sitting at the front-room window looking at all that’s going on in Springburn Road. There’s never a dull moment.’

  There certainly wouldn’t be if his father turned up. He could just hear him wheezing up the stairs – probably spitting on the stairs as well. He’d arrive at the door and put on a dying swan act for his mother to play on her pity. He’d allow her to help him into the house. His stick would thump noisily on the floor, no doubt, alarming the downstairs neighbours. He’d crash into a chair and wait for a glass of whisky to be administered to him.

  Then he’d take either of two tactics. He’d either adopt his usual bullying, snarling style: ‘Get your coat on, woman. You’re coming back with me.’ Or he’d wheeze and cough and splutter and eventually manage, ‘You’re my wife. In sickness and health, you vowed before God and the church. Till death us do part. Cherish, you said, but as soon as I’m ill, you scuttle off. Some Christian! The minister came to see me the other day and the reverend gentleman was so shocked, he could hardly credit it …’

  His mother would be conned into going back to look after him and would have to endure absolute hell in the process. He would soon be the death of her. But he would determinedly wheeze on for years.

  ‘We could get a flat in the main road in Bishopbriggs, Mother,’ he kept telling her. ‘It’s a busy road – Kirkintilloch Road, it’s called. Lots of people doing their shopping there and buses and trams going by. You’d love it. You could sit at the front-room window there and watch everything that’s going on.’

  Julie tried to persuade her as well. ‘And we could take you for trips to Kirkintilloch and Blanefield. There’s lots of lovely country places to visit.’

  ‘I really appreciate it, dear,’ Mrs Hunter told Julie. ‘You’re always so kind to me and I’m so happy that Sammy has found someone as nice as you. But to start married life with your mother-in-law is not the best way. You and Sammy should get a decent start on your own. I’m an old woman. I don’t want to be a burden to either of you.’

  Nothing either of them could say could make her change her mind. Eventually, Sammy had to agree but on one condition. ‘I’ll only going to leave you here if you promise me, Mother – promise me – that you’ll never go back to Father. Even if he comes pleading with you on bended knee.’

  She shook her head. ‘Son, can you imagine your father either pleading or bending a knee? To me – or to anybody?’

  ‘Well, no matter what he does to try and persuade you, Mother, you must promise me that for no reason will you ever go back.’

  ‘All right, son.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘Yes, I promise.’

  He had the teleph
one installed too and he planned to have one in the flat that he and Julie would rent. ‘That way I’ll just be on the other end of the phone for you, Mother,’ he told her.

  It was certainly true what Julie had said about Bishopbriggs being an attractive place. The centre was called the village and had a row of shops, mostly family businesses, on either side of Kirkintilloch road, with grey stone flats above them. Large old villas, a church, a chapel, burgh hall, a library and a leafy park were all nearby. New houses were mushrooming up and, further back, brightly coloured bungalows and semis. But there hadn’t been many changes in the village for a hundred years or more.

  Along Kirkintilloch Road from the bank was the Kenmure cinema. Sammy knew he and Julie could be very happy in Bishopbriggs. Except for the worries about his mother and about Julie because of her obsession with Alice.

  However, he could not bring himself to spoil Julie’s happiness by voicing objections to the move. As a result, he agreed to rent the flat they eventually found above one of the shops. It was almost exactly opposite where Alice lived. They could have got a larger flat in far better condition in Springfield Road, but Julie’s heart was set on the one in Kirkintilloch Road, for obvious reasons.

  It was agreed that the wedding would be held in the Quaker Meeting House in Newton Place in Glasgow. As usual with Quaker weddings, it took place as part of a normal meeting for worship. Everyone sat on rows of benches on three sides of the room. On the fourth side there was only one bench and a table. On the table, as usual, was a Bible, a book of Quaker faith and practice, a copy of Queries and Advices and a little bowl of flowers.

  Sammy sat at the table waiting for the arrival of Julie. When she did arrive in her wide-brimmed straw hat with its band of turquoise ribbons and matching turquoise suit, she immediately brightened the whole room, and radiated light and colour. A gasp of admiration broke through the silence as, smiling radiantly at Sammy, Julie clipped over on her high-heeled shoes to join him. She settled herself comfortably on the bench, her head held high with pride.