The House on Rosebank Lane

by Millie Gray

When Jessie had returned from her visit to Jenners she seemed, thanks to the hair and facial treatments, to have lost twenty years. She literally glowed.

  ‘Here, Kirsten, see when the lassies finished with me I didnae recognise myself. I mean I look so good I could gie that Jean Simmons, you know the film actress, a run for her money.’

  Kirsten had just smiled and nodded. Somehow she knew that in the future Jenners would be seeing a lot more of Jessie.

  Most of the guests had arrived and were being served drinks by the newly appointed waiting staff. Bea, Jane and Dixie were serving the canapés. Kirsten paused for a moment: it was a scene that showed exactly how her children were with each other.

  Dixie, who was doing his best not to let things drop off his serving platter, was dutifully trotting behind Jane. But then he would, because he loved Jane, and she loved him so much that it was never a bother to her to look after him. On the other hand, Bea from day one had resented Dixie. Bea liked the world to revolve around her. Kirsten had hoped that in time Bea would stop being jealous of Dixie and start loving him. However, when Duncan left, Bea blamed Dixie for his going. Somehow she’d understood that Duncan, like her, had resented Kirsten’s focus on her son. After Duncan’s departure it didn’t matter what Kirsten did for Bea; she remained sullen and aloof. Kirsten also had to accept that, even although Duncan had deserted her, Bea would never love her as much as she loved him. There was no thawing in Bea’s attitude, but still Kirsten did try to make life as easy as possible for her. A futile effort, if ever there was one. Yes, no matter what Kirsten did she never managed to make Bea smile.

  She was still looking at her children when she became aware of the arrival of another guest. The police representative. Kirsten smiled and glided over the floor to greet Inspector Carmichael.

  ‘How good of you to come,’ she chanted. ‘I take it that your chief sent you in his place, as he abhors alcohol.’

  Removing his cap and tucking it under his arm, Eddie replied. ‘Our old chief did . . . But now he’s no longer in the force. Retired he is, and escaped back to his beloved Isle of Lewis.’

  Kirsten smiled. She was thinking that the retirement of the old chief couldn’t be anything other than good news for her. ‘And the new chief?’ she said with a smile.

  ‘He would have come today, but as he has just taken up his post he wishes to acquaint himself with his team first. After that he intends to do the rounds of getting to know the community he will be serving.’

  ‘And so you drew the short straw?’

  He laughed lightly. ‘No. The admin inspector is off on sick leave. I am filling in for him today, so I volunteered.’

  She smiled again. Both were experiencing the joy of this unexpected meeting. Kirsten was so engrossed admiring him that she was startled when she heard Dixie call, ‘Does the football man want one of these?’

  Before Kirsten could reply Eddie said, ‘Well, hello again, young man. Are you still supporting Hibs?’

  Dixie nodded furiously. ‘They won last week.’

  ‘They did. Did you see the match?’

  Forlornly Dixie’s head shook from side to side. ‘No one to take me.’

  ‘Well, if your mum thinks you are old enough now, perhaps she will allow me to take you to the next match.’

  ‘Mum, are you listening? Has it been long enough?’

  ‘I am listening, Dixie. But . . .’

  ‘Look, why don’t you let me take him to the next home match and see how it goes?’

  ‘That is so very kind of you.’

  Eddie chuckled. ‘Just trying to keep in with the new chief. He is very keen on us not only serving the community but also being part of it.’

  ‘Mum, are you really saying I get to go?’

  Kirsten nodded. Jane, who had been standing patiently waiting to serve them some canapés, said, ‘Mum, I have to circulate, so could you hurry and take one of these fish things?’

  ‘Inspector, this is Jane, the youngest of my daughters.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Jane,’ Eddie replied with a smile. ‘And, yes, I will have one of your delicacies.’

  Jane blushed. ‘My sister Bea is serving today, too. And our frocks are identical because our granny Aileen made them especially for today.’

  Eddie’s eyes scanned the room. Once he spotted Bea, he said, ‘And very smart the two of you look in your red gingham dresses.’

  Before he could comment further three ladies came in through the doors. Stella, flamboyantly dressed in an electric blue flowing gown and bright dangling parrot earrings, was first to grab Kirsten in a tight embrace. ‘This place is just wonderful. It is all so tastefully furnished. My girl, you have done well. But then I knew you would.’

  As soon as she was able, it was then Marigold’s turn to congratulate Kirsten. ‘You and your mother-in-law knocked that hovel I seen last year into this?’ Kirsten was delighted to nod.

  Then it was time for Mrs Baxter. Mrs Baxter, who must have a first name, but who was always just Mrs Baxter. ‘Oh, Kirsten, I wouldn’t mind mucking this place out. Like a palace, it is. Even up market from the wee hotel my man and I go to in Blackpool.’

  Eddie’s feelings, on seeing the three women come in, were mixed. It was good that their arrival confirmed what he’d assumed about Kirsten – that she did not forget past friends, even those who could no longer do anything for her. No, Kirsten was not a fair-weather friend. On the other hand, if the old chief had still been in residence at the Divisional HQ, the three women’s presence at the hotel’s opening party would have confirmed his prejudices about Kirsten. In his nightmares he would have seen Armstrong’s becoming a house of ill-repute. Then he would have not only increased but intensified the surveillance on the hotel.

  While Eddie was deliberating, Aileen, who was at the other side of the function room, was weighing him up. She had noticed that when he came in Kirsten had literally preened. And she was sure that when he’d accepted Kirsten’s hand in welcome he too had seemed more than pleased. Aileen did hope that Kirsten would find another mate one day but – she was so proud of Kirsten and the way she’d always managed to cope. She couldn’t have averted the happenings in her life, but she did always manage to take them head on and she never allowed herself to be beaten or diminished by them. Wasn’t Dixie proof of all that? Ah, Dixie, Aileen sighed. Someone wishing to take on Kirsten and the girls would be one thing; taking on Dixie, whom Kirsten had spoiled rotten because he was the apple of her eye, was another.

  But still, the rest of the celebration went according to plan. Eddie, who was on duty, left early to report that Armstrong’s appeared to be in excellent management hands and he could foresee no problems. That would be true where the hotel was concerned, but was he opening a can of worms, now that he’d promised to take Dixie to football matches from time to time? This would mean meeting up with Kirsten. He pondered as he acknowledged his attraction to her. Was he using Dixie as a means to get into Kirsten’s good books? He hoped not.

  TWENTY-ONE

  When Eddie, dressed in civvies, arrived at Balfour Street to take Dixie to the match, he smiled. Dixie was all ready and eager to go, standing at the window. He waved and grinned when he saw Eddie. But, on entering the house, Eddie could sense that Kirsten was anxious.

  ‘Inspector . . .’ she began.

  ‘Could you call me Eddie? You see, I would prefer that Dixie calls me Eddie instead of inspector when we are at the game.’ He smiled before adding, ‘Just trying to avoid any trouble from supporters who are not keen on the polis.’

  She nodded. ‘It is just that, well, I hope he won’t be wanting home and spoil . . . What I mean is, he doesn’t like loud noises. Have you ever taken any other boy, perhaps your own son, to Easter Road?’

  ‘I am not fortunate enough to have any children.’

  On hearing this admission, she would normally have thought that it was a great pity. But it only served to give her hope. Hope that he was perhaps unmarried. Her gaze then flew to his left
hand again. The wedding ring was still there, so even although he had no children he obviously did have a wife.

  ‘Don’t worry about Dixie,’ Eddie said as he took Dixie’s hand in his. ‘He and I are going to get on just fine. By the way, I will be taking him to a seated area and not to the terracing.’

  ‘You are? But is that not expensive?’ She blushed. ‘Of course, let me get my purse and I will give you his ticket money.’

  Saluting her he said, ‘No need. This is my treat.’

  ‘But I insist.’

  ‘Look, let’s just see how it goes and then if it is to be a regular event then we can talk finance!’

  *

  It’s funny that we all have dreams. Some of these dreams when they do come true are not really what we thought they would be. It was like that for Dixie at the match. From the start, the noise of the shouting fans scared him. Whenever a roar went up his hands flew to cover his ears. His lips trembled and he whimpered. The game had only been going for twenty minutes when Eddie reluctantly accepted that football matches were not for Dixie. Probably never would be.

  Having decided he must do what was best for Dixie, he then annoyed the other supporters in the row by asking them to let him and Dixie pass out into the gangway.

  Once they were out of the ground and into Albion Terrace, Dixie wrestled his hand free from Eddie’s. He then began to gallop towards Hawkhill.

  ‘Hold on, Dixie,’ Eddie shouted to the fleeing figure. ‘You are going the wrong way. Balfour Street is the other way.’

  Thankfully, because of his football days, Eddie was still fit and it only took him a few strides to catch up with Dixie. As luck would have it a taxi was passing at that very moment and Eddie signalled to the driver to stop. All he could do then was bundle Dixie into the cab and tell the driver to head for Balfour Street. On reaching home Dixie bolted from the cab and into the house.

  After paying the driver, Eddie followed. Kirsten, who was enjoying a cup of tea and a natter with her old friend Molly Clark, was taken aback when Dixie hurtled through the door and into her arms.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘The match went on too long, Mum. The noise hurt my ears. And boys were shouting bad words,’ Dixie managed to splutter.

  ‘Look, Dixie, calm down. You are home and safe now. But remember, I did explain to you that there would be noise and swearing. But you were to ignore all that and enjoy the game.’

  Taking his left hand in hers, she began to massage his palm. It was then that she became aware that Eddie was now in the house.

  ‘Sorry it didn’t work out,’ he said, looking sheepish. ‘The noise and crowds frightened him.’

  Kirsten nodded. ‘I thought they would, but don’t you feel bad. You tried and, like me, even though we hope things will work out they sometimes don’t.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘But I am grateful that you put yourself out for my Dixie. On the plus side at least you will get home to your wife early.’

  Eddie lowered his eyes. ‘Yes, at one time that would have been so good to do.’ Now it was his time to pause. ‘Unfortunately my dearly beloved wife Anna died eleven years ago.’

  Kirsten felt a rush of horror at this news. Through Dixie, and the football, she had imagined she could build some sort of relationship with Eddie. Even today, when she was concerned for Dixie, looking at Eddie made her feel like a silly schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. Two minutes ago she’d felt that a door would open for them – but the reality of Eddie’s feelings for his beloved wife meant that door must remain firmly shut. Kirsten shook her head. What was she thinking? Dixie and his sisters must be her first priority.

  Eddie then turned to go, but on impulse he turned back and sought for her hand. All Kirsten’s resolve melted away at his touch. Lifting her fingers to his lips, he murmured, ‘This is not the time for us. At the moment you have your children to see to, but believe me I can wait. Yes, I truly believe our time will come.’

  Kirsten, overcome by emotion, could only nod. She was just trying to order her thoughts when Jane and Bea arrived home. Jane smiled at Eddie, but Bea glowered.

  Eddie stepped away quickly, and threw up his hands as if in defeat. After kicking the door shut behind his departing back, Bea turned her attention to her mother.

  ‘What’s going on in here?’ she screeched.

  Without raising her voice, Kirsten said, ‘Bea, please don’t shout at me.’ She then told Bea that Dixie had needed to leave the football match early, and so Eddie would no longer be coming on Saturdays.

  To Kirsten’s astonishment, Bea jumped up and clapped her hands. ‘Good, at last Dixie has done us all a favour.’

  ‘In what way, Bea?’ Molly asked. She was sitting quietly, drinking in the situation as it unfolded.

  ‘In the way, Molly, that when my dad comes home he won’t take kindly to another man in our house!’

  ‘Bea,’ Kirsten said with emphasis, ‘your dad is never going to come home. I know how angry you are about that, but there was nothing anybody could have done to stop him leaving us. What I am saying is, please, you have to get over it. Stop blaming me, and most importantly stop allowing it to ruin your life!’

  TWENTY-TWO

  1971

  Two years later, Armstrong’s hotel was turning out to be very successful. It had not all been plain sailing. Indeed, no. This was no surprise to Jessie and Kirsten: they’d dived in headfirst with no experience in managing a city centre hotel!

  Every time Kirsten, who was on duty in reception, thought of how at the start she and Jessie had just muddled through, she almost laughed in disbelief. Of course, she had to ‘employ’ Molly Clark to see to the children in the morning. This was no problem for Molly, whose children were older than Kirsten’s and now independent. The arrangement with Molly meant Kirsten could get to the hotel by seven in the morning, thus allowing her to get things underway. She smiled as she remembered how at first serving breakfast and dealing with guests checking out had been nightmarish. In particular, she recalled the infamous morning when the chef didn’t turn up. Jessie, in addition to showing visitors to their tables in the dining room, had to cook the breakfasts. By the time she darted backwards and forwards between kitchen and dining room for the whole breakfast service she was exhausted. So was the supply of eggs. Twenty eggs were required for the guests, but between yolks getting broken and frying pans going up in flames, forty eggs were used. Somehow Jessie went right off fried eggs for a while after that. Then there was the time that Jessie had to summon Kirsten back to the hotel in the early afternoon. When a breathless Kirsten stumbled in the door, she was gasping. ‘What is it? What’s gone wrong?’

  Jessie looked about furtively. ‘It’s room ten.’

  ‘What’s amiss with room ten?’

  ‘Man booked in and paid for the night. He said that the lady with him was his wife, but it turns out she is his secretary and they came in at two then checked out at four.’

  ‘Are you saying that they went for an afternoon nap?’

  ‘Afternoon something, but it certainly wasn’t a nap. What if Super Cop down the road finds out about them and their romp in the hay? Don’t you realise, Kirsten, that that will be all the excuse he needs to shut us down?’

  ‘Calm yourself, Jessie. I am sure if two people book in as Mr and Mrs and leave after two hours that is their affair. Besides, how do you know she was his secretary?’

  ‘Heard her say to him, I did, would she go back to the office or could she just go home. He replied, “I think anything else I officially require can wait until office hours tomorrow.”’

  Kirsten was still reminiscing when she became aware that someone was awaiting her attention.

  ‘I am sorry, my thoughts were miles away. Can I help you?’

  ‘I hope you can.’ It was Eddie, dressed in civilian clothes.

  Caught unaware, Kirsten mumbled, ‘I heard you had been promoted to chief inspector in Leith Division.’

  ‘I have. But today I am not here on polic
e business.’ He chuckled. ‘I received a phone call from a man who addressed me as Mr Scottish Police Football. He then went on to say, “My name is Olav Olsen and I am a detective with the Oslo Police. I wish to bring my football team to Edinburgh to play games with your Scottish teams.”’

  Kirsten laughed. ‘You are joking.’

  ‘No. And I have approached the chief constable about the request and he is very keen for us to accommodate them.’

  ‘So, why are you here?’

  ‘Well, they have asked me to book accommodation for them and their wives and girlfriends.’

  ‘Wives and girlfriends? Are you saying the ladies obediently trot behind the football team?’

  Eddie laughed and winked. ‘No, I am led to believe they will be shopping. Shopping, shopping, shopping until they drop.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Norway is a fine country to live in, but the price of goods . . . let’s put it this way, wives wouldn’t be out shopping every Saturday on a police constable’s salary.’

  Now it was Kirsten’s turn to laugh. ‘So, are you here to book the girlfriends in?’

  ‘No, the whole assembly.’

  ‘But as I only have sixteen rooms, and that is counting the two attics. I wouldn’t be able to house them all.’

  ‘Yes, you will. Olav and the trainer and their partners will lodge with me.’ Kirsten looked perplexed. Eddie knew what she was thinking. ‘Look, Norway is a modern country and if the girlfriends bunked in with their boyfriends at home, then who are we to say, “No, you can’t do that here”?’ Kirsten grimaced. ‘Look,’ Eddie sighed, ‘their sharing rooms will have no repercussion for you or your hotel’s reputation.’

  ‘I accept that,’ Kirsten lied with a shake of her head. ‘But we are just so busy with the festival being in full swing. So, apologies, but I cannot help you.’

  Eddie winked again. ‘Would the fact that they would be coming in November help ease your anxiety?’

  So engrossed were Kirsten and Eddie in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed that Jessie was now beside them. ‘Maybe not hers, but it will suit me just fine.’ She now spoke to Kirsten. ‘You ken fine November and February are the two dead months of the year for us. Here is a chance for us to be full up for a week.’ She stopped to rub her fingers to indicate money. ‘Stupid it would be to turn it down. Now, Chief Inspector Carmichael, or is it plain Mr today?’