In a League of Their Own

by Millie Gray

  “No problem! She’ll believe she’s died and gone to heaven!”

  Hannah smiled before agreeing, “Of course, you’re absolutely right there, Father.”

  “He is?” questioned a bemused Carrie.

  “He sure is that! Because hasn’t Gregor got Jezebel’s adored bull housed on his very own croft?”

  By the time Carrie was due to leave for Edinburgh, Hannah was still having nagging doubts about standing in for the District Nurse. Training on the job had been suggested and she was keen about that. Yet she continued to be uncertain.

  “Look, Hannah,” Carrie grumbled when she saw her sister going into one of her dithery moods, “the children won’t always be young and by the time they’ve all flown the nest and Flora has retired you could end up being the nurse here. And just think of the added bonus!”

  “What added bonus is that?” asked Hannah incredulously.

  “Mum being so cock-a-hoop when she realises that all the sacrifice she made to educate you and put you through your training is finally going to pay off!”

  “You’re right, Carrie.” Hannah hesitated before adding, “But don’t say a word to Mum – just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  Hannah shrugged. “In case Stornoway doesn’t give its approval or, what’s more likely, that I take cold feet!”

  16

  GRAND FINALE

  Sam was giving a quick brush to his uniform jacket before hanging it in the cupboard when a sharp knock at his office door had him call out briskly, “Come in.” The unexpected appearance of Pimpernel Pete, however, led to a groan of, “Oh no!”

  Pete raised his hand. “I know, I know. With the disciplinary hearing tomorrow I shouldnae be talking to you but…”

  “No, you certainly shouldn’t!” Sam replied sharply, seating himself behind his desk with an official air that he thought would indicate to Pete that he was to be kept firmly in line.

  “Look, Sam,” began Pete. “We’ve been mates for years.” Sam said nothing but bent his head, unwilling to let Pete see how upset he was at being selected to chair the panel at Pete’s forthcoming disciplinary hearing. Pete coughed awkwardly before going on. “So I thought I would put you out of your agony and tell you there won’t be any need for the hearing tomorrow.”

  Sam’s head shot up. “What?”

  “I’ve put my ticket in!”

  “You’ve resigned?” Sam exclaimed incredulously. “But even if it is proved that you’ve been…er…”

  “Fornicating with a married woman?”

  “Whatever. You’ll not be fired for that tomorrow – just fined – so why throw a full thirty-year pension away?”

  “I’ve had enough. Besides, living in a broken down caravan…”

  Sam shook his head wearily and continued for him, “… that has no sanitation and is illegally parked on waste ground in Salamander Street.”

  Pete scratched his head. “You knew about that?”

  “Of course I did, but rather than have to pull you in myself, I decided on taking a blind eye approach.”

  Pete feigned a cough and chuckled. “Not much gets past you.” Sam nodded in agreement. “Anyway, what I reckon is that I’ve now got twenty-five years in and that’ll give me half-pension right away and, well, I’ve got quite a few irons in the fire where other jobs are concerned.”

  Sam smiled. When was it that Pete didn’t have a few irons in the fire? In fact, he had so many that Sam was sure he should have been a part-time blacksmith. “And why this decision now?”

  “Ken the pert wee blonde they all say I’m chasing? Well, I do see her every chance I have because…I can’t …” Pete circled his head and rolled his eyes. “Would you believe it? The guy with a woman on every street corner just cannae live without this one!” He paused and looked down at his hands before adding, “And when I decided to stop lying to Sheila and told her I would be leaving next month, her answer was to pick up her gutting knife and –” Pete held out his right hand which showed a long angry wound.

  “Must be real expert at filleting, your dear Sheila,” said Sam with a sigh.

  Pete continued, “I decided it wouldn’t be in my best interests to be castrated. Better to leave there and then.”

  “I accept that…but couldn’t you have moved in with your Mum – on a temporary basis?”

  Pete chuckled. “Move in with my Mammy? Nae chance! She’s one of the old school. Can you no just hear her say, ‘You made your ain bed so now lie on it.’ No, Sam. The caravan was the only place I could find refuge.”

  “And your future plans?”

  Pete’s face turned red before blurting out the next words: “Jinty’s leaving Alex and the two of us will… will really try and make a go of it.” Sam sat dumbfounded as Pete remonstrated: “Try and understand. Jinty makes me feel just wonderful. She’s all I ever wanted in a woman. Everything a woman should be – beautiful, brilliant company, energetic and – what’s the word?”

  “Charismatic?” suggested Sam.

  “Aye, that’s it – charismatic.” A very long pause followed. “Of course you wouldn’t understand, Sam. Women don’t rule your head.”

  Sam shook his head at that. Since his father’s death six weeks ago, he had somehow found himself becoming increasingly close to Crystal Glass and her two sons. Any day that he didn’t see them, the sun didn’t shine. And what was he going to do about it? Of course he knew perfectly well what he hoped to do – but he’d need to find out whether Crystal felt the same way. Biting his lip, he thought – what if she gives me a dizzy just like Emma had done? Dear Emma, who once had been his Jinty.

  “Quite sure you’re doing the right thing?” he reluctantly asked Pete. “If anyone should know about these things, it’s me – that being head over heels for a girl isn’t everything and that it doesn’t always last.”

  Pete looked warily round the room, whose walls he was sure had ears, before saying in no more than a whisper, “I’m more than sure, pal. And I know passion cools, but with Jinty, if and when it wanes, we’ll be lucky enough to be left with love!” Then, changing the subject abruptly, Pete suggested, “How about a pint? We can talk freer out o this place.”

  “Only wish I could,” replied Sam, “but I’m already late for an important, very important family powwow.”

  When Sam arrived at Learig Close, all the family, with the exception of Alice, were already assembled. The happy sight made him beam with pleasure. There was something so heart-warming when they were all together in the house they’d been brought up in. Berating himself for being so sentimental, he focused his eyes on Hannah. “Great to see you, kid,” he chuckled. “But you’ve only got two of your brood with you. Where’s the rest?” he went on, unable to hide his disappointment.

  “At school. But Father Donald arranged for them to be looked after while I took a wee break,” replied Hannah, not admitting Carrie had told her that Rachel was completely exhausted and threatening to go out and scrub stairs now the bakery had closed. That was the true reason she had come – to reassure her mother that she was indeed going to take on the post of relief District Nurse on Herrig, which meant she wouldn’t need to be helped out financially any longer. “Peggy Mack is looking after four of them,” she went on quickly, lifting her youngest one, Ishbel, on to her knee, “and Katie-Mary was volunteered by Father Donald to take on the other two.”

  Sam laughed. “The good Father Donald is very persuasive!”

  Rachel stood up. “I’ll put the kettle on,” she said. “You’ll all be staying a while?”

  “We have to,” replied Paul, “Sam apparently has something urgent he needs to discuss with us.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Sam, walking across to take up his stance in front of the unlit fire. “Perhaps we should get that business out of the way first.” Motioning to his mother to sit down again, he cleared his throat. “Ahem. As we all know, Dad died six weeks ago. Well, yesterday Father O’Malley came to see me because a problem has aris
en that will need …” he hesitated and looked directly at his mother, “… a fair bit of tolerance and understanding.”

  “Tolerance and understanding? Is that your fancy way of saying there’s going to be trouble ahead?” Carrie butted in.

  “Yes, it is. You see, Father O’Malley said that Aunt Ella asked him to intercede with us because – well, because she can’t pay the funeral expenses.”

  “Don’t tell me she’s got the nerve to expect us to pay?”

  “Yes and no, Carrie. You see, Dad left more than enough to cover his funeral but it’s sitting there in a bank book with his name on it – and, since he left no will, it needs the sheriff court to say who actually is his next of kin. And because a legal wife takes precedence over everybody else, it means that you, Mum, will inherit the proceeds of Dad’s bank book. But you’ll also be responsible for settling the funeral expenses and any other debts.”

  Rachel laughed as she stood up momentarily and then sat down again. “You’re telling us Saint Ella even tried to have herself declared his legal heir?”

  “Correct. But now she knows she can’t beat the law,” replied Sam. “So I’ll do everything legally, Mum, and you’ll be declared his next of kin. Once that’s done, and you have the money, we’ll be able to pay all the bills.” Sam took a sheaf of papers from his inside pocket and handed them to his mother.

  No one broke the silence while Rachel scanned the papers – not even when a frown crossed her face as she carefully scrutinised one hand-written bill. “The expenses of the undertaker, Sam,” she said slowly, still carefully examining each document but gaining confidence as she realised the ball was in her court. “These are okay by me but…does she really expect me to pay for this insulting intimation in the Evening News that completely ignores the existence of all of you – his own children?”

  “Mum,” said Paul, who didn’t want any adverse publicity to be washing over him. “Is there enough to pay it all?”

  “More than enough,” Sam replied. “In fact, there’ll be a tidy wee sum left over when everything’s been settled.”

  “Oh, just a minute, Sam,” Rachel intervened. “This isn’t about money. It’s a matter of principle. And as she said…”

  “No, Mum, we don’t go down her road. Pay it.”

  “And will I also pay this, Paul?” exploded Rachel, tossing the hand-written account to him.

  “So she wants the money for the boiled ham tea, the tombstone inscription, the…”

  “That’ll be the one that doesn’t mention our existence!”

  “Quite so, Carrie,” Paul responded curtly. “And don’t let’s forget the wreath. Please, though, let us keep our dignity and pay it all!”

  Hannah handed Ishbel to Sam before going over to sit on the arm of her mother’s chair. “Mum,” she said quietly. “Give her what she needs – but no more than that.”

  “You’re right, Hannah,” said Carrie. “Know something, Mum? A new teacher came into the school this week and we got blethering. When she came to asking me about my family, I was able to say in all honesty that you were alive but that my father was dead. I didn’t have to feel embarrassed or humiliated any more. He’s gone now – and so should all the hurt that his desertion caused us. What I’m saying is, let’s close the book now.”

  Rachel gave a quiet sigh, realising she was beaten. All her children were decent human beings with not a trace of vindictiveness in them. Did she really want to have them get embroiled in a family feud? Of course she didn’t.

  Eight weeks later everything was settled and a balance of two thousand pounds had been given to Rachel. She’d proposed to the children that she should divide it between them as she was sure that was what Johnny would have wanted. She acknowledged he was no fool and would have known perfectly well that by not leaving a will she would inherit. Maybe he’d also been aware that it would also leave his sister believing it was an oversight! The only puzzle left to solve now was why Carrie wanted to have a copy of Johnny’s death certificate. Rachel had asked her straight out but all she would say was, “Look, I may be wrong, so I don’t want to say anything until I’m absolutely sure.”

  Meantime, Rachel and her psychic friend Bella were enjoying a cup of tea with a little dram in it – just to give it some flavour – when Bella asked what Rachel was going to do with all that money. Rachel lifted a teaspoon and began thoughtfully to stir her tea. “Going to get rid of it as fast as I can.” She breathed deeply and then exhaled slowly before confiding to Bella, “D’you know something? When the bairns and me were struggling to survive, without having a shilling to spare for a pint of milk and a loaf of bread, Johnny was amassing his wee fortune by saving it up – two, three, or even five bob a week. Oh, aye. Must have taken him years to hoard three thousand quid.” A satisfied cat-like smile spread over Rachel’s face. “But know something you can do for me, Bella?” Her friend looked up in expectation. “When you next get in touch with Johnny, will you please tell him I mean to blow it all in just one week!”

  “One week!” exclaimed Bella, thinking how Johnny would whirl in his grave at that news. She remembered well how panic-stricken he got whenever Rachel was on one of her compulsive buying sprees – so much so that after deserting the home he’d placed an advertisement in the local paper announcing that he would not be held responsible for any debts she incurred. However, not wishing to remind Rachel about Johnny’s qualms, she simply asked, “But what on earth are you going to spend it all on?”

  “For a start, I’ll get one of those modern gas fires.”

  “But there’s something awfy cosy about a real coal fire, don’t you think?”

  “Aye, but it’s a real bind having to clean it out every day – not to mention having to go out in all weathers to get the coal out of the bunker.”

  Bella agreed, thinking perhaps Rachel was right enough about the fire. After all, she was quite worn out with all the toiling she’d done to bring up her bairns. So all Bella said was, “And what else is on your shopping list?”

  “Well,” Rachel continued, trying to smother her giggles as she pointed to the gas stove. “A new cooker, of course. I mean to say, that one has seen its day, hasn’t it? Oh, and a fitted carpet for the living room. And for me, I’ll have one of these beaver-lamb coats – all the rage they are nowadays.” By now Bella was so crestfallen that Rachel thought it was time to put her out of her agony. “But that’ll only take care of a few hundred. Now what on earth am I going to squander the rest on?”

  “How about another wee drappie whisky to brighten up our tea?” suggested Bella, stretching up to take the bottle of Glenfiddich from its shelf and then liberally topping up their tea.

  “Och, I can buy that and some more of these half-coated digestives out of my petty cash,” rejoined Rachel, opening a paper bag lying on the table and bringing out a fistful of biscuits, two of which she passed to Bella. “No, I was thinking more about what you were saying earlier …” Rachel stopped briefly, being aware that Bella seemed perplexed. “Remember you said that you had been speaking to my mother and she thought I should go out to Canada and visit our Alice.”

  Bella brightened up and sat bolt upright in her chair before adding another two spoonfuls of sugar to her fortified tea and licking the chocolate off a biscuit. “Aye, so she did. Your Mammy’s met up with Johnny – and by the way, Rachel, he’s feeling a lot better now and no gasping the way he did in the hospital – and he was telling her he’s real glad about the ways things have worked out. And he’s hoping that you’ll put the money to good use and go to Canada to visit Alice.” Bella stopped and looked about her warily. “And he says he doesn’t want you to go all that way on your own.”

  “Wants me to take someone with me, does he?”

  “Aye,” nodded Bella vigorously. “Mind you, it would need to be someone older and very responsible.”

  “Wonder who that could be?” teased Rachel.

  But just then Carrie flounced in at the front door. “Mum,” she shouted,
“I’ve got great news for you!”

  Rachel smiled. “And what might that be?”

  “Good to see you, Auntie Bella. How’s things?” said Carrie before answering her Mum.

  “Oh she’s just tickety-boo,” replied Rachel. “Going to chum me to Canada, she is.”

  “Oh, so you’ve had a windfall too?” queried Carrie, who knew Bella was always going to save up the money for her fare but somehow all she managed to do was barely scrape through the week.

  “No, I’m paying for her to go.”

  “Naw, naw, Rachel. I just couldn’t hae that… But here, wait a minute.” And Bella looked over her shoulder, repeatedly nodding her head and interjecting, “Thank you. Oh, thank you again.”

  “That was your Mammy, Rachel, and she says it’s okay for you to pay my fare but I’ve not to be a sponger so I’ve to find my ain spending money!”

  Rachel agreed to that. She had always felt indebted to Bella’s mother who had taken her in as an infant when her mother had died, thus saving her from having to go into the poorhouse orphanage. Aunt Anna and her own girls were living below the subsistence level but for all that she’d willingly shared what little they had with her. Now Rachel was in a position to pay something back by taking Bella with her to Canada – Bella who so longed to see her girls once again and never did she imagine she’d ever be able to do so.

  “Mum,” said Carrie, breaking abruptly into her mother’s thoughts, “know what?”

  “No, Carrie, I don’t.”

  “Well, remember that lassie, Celia, I helped?”

  “Was that the one whose was catapulted off her motor bike when it skidded in Leith Walk?” Carrie nodded and Rachel continued to Bella, “Poor lassie, ended up face down in the gutter with her leg turned the wrong way round.”

  “That sounds like a real terrible accident,” exclaimed Bella.

  “Not really,” replied Carrie. “You see, it was her artificial leg that had got out of control so once I got her sitting up she just birled it back round again. Anyway, all that is by the by. Hasn’t it turned out Celia is a very clever lassie. Works in the Social Security down at Maritime House and she’s a real expert on benefits!”