STOLEN BAIRNS: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  There was always something happening on the passageway between the mouths of the harbour to the moorings further up the river mouth. Since North Sea oil had been discovered, the harbour had become even busier with old fishing trawlers changing into standby ships, and the large supply vessels dominating the harbour, occupying the berths where once only fishing vessels had stood.

  Marty’s other household tasks included taking his aunt shopping in his car and carrying, fetching and replacing anything which needed brute force. His aunt laughed at him when he told her that he did not want her to go climbing up on things and falling. She told him that he might think that she was over the hill at fifty-seven, but she had plenty of energy and life left in her yet. She did not mind though, she was more than happy to ask Marty to do things for her, it made them seem close and able to share their lives together.

  Molly was extremely proud of her nephew when he had told her that he was thinking of becoming a hairdresser. She had at first thought he meant that he would be a barber. No, he had told her, he wanted to do women’s hair as much as he wanted to style men’s. She recalled how, a few eyes had been raised by her friends when she told them of Marty’s plans. Some whispered that it was only pansy boys who went in for this, although Marty in no way could be described as such.

  Molly had insisted that if he was going to enter into this trade that he do it properly and attend college. He did well and had just completed his apprenticeship in a rather smart hairdresser’s in the centre of Aberdeen. Jacques was viewed as one of the best hairdressers in Aberdeen and Molly had been pleased that Marty had been offered a full time permanent position. She had briefly enquired whether he wanted to consider starting up his own business, but Marty had shaken his head. He enjoyed working for Jacques and still had a lot to learn he had told her. He could make a real career and wanted to become the best hairdresser in the city.

  Molly believed that he could easily reach his potential, her only concern now was that Beth had come to stay and she might distract him from his career.

  Chapter 16

  It was as though being rescued by Marty from Cairn View had given Beth permission to collapse. Being relieved of all responsibility and being shown love and compassion had allowed Beth to lower her defences and hand herself over into the care of Marty and Aunt Molly.

  Marty had had reluctantly to return to work the following day. He knew that he could trust and rely on his aunt to care for Beth, but now that he had found her again, he could hardly bring himself to leave her. Molly soon recognised that the girl needed a great deal of care. She did not think that any doctor’s medicine would cure whatever had happened to this young girl. Tender love and patience would be, she was sure, more beneficial.

  While Beth slept, Molly slipped out to visit Marks and Spencer’s where she had purchased new underwear and a couple of nice pairs of trousers and tops. When she returned and helped the young girl to dress in the new clothes, she did not think she even noticed. She could have easily been dressing her in a couple of ragged hessian sacks for all the notice she took.

  On the first few mornings Molly would help the girl to get up from her bed and then take her to the bathroom where she would leave her to go to the toilet, before she helped her into a sweet smelling bath. She would encourage her to eat a big plateful of porridge before she sat in the armchair staring out of the window.

  Marty would race home to see whether there was any change in Beth. He would try and hide his disappointment when he found that she was still spending much of her time asleep. Molly tried to reassure him that it was her way to start to heal, and she obviously needed all of this sleep.

  It was the first Sunday when they noticed a change. First Beth found her own way to the bathroom and ran her own bath. She then allowed Marty to cut and style her hair properly. It was short, but he had managed to shape it so that it was fashionable and made her features stand out. She did look thin and her cheekbones were more prominent than they should have been.

  Marty watched Beth as he showed her the new hairstyle in the mirror; it was the first flicker of interest he had noticed. Her eyes had stared into the mirror, they were open and wide, and for just a moment there was a flicker of life behind them. She had reached up and first felt her face, her fingers touching her hollow cheeks and her thin nose. She touched her hair, her fingers stroking and feeling the length. She had never in her life ever had anyone cut her hair properly and gone was the long hair which had been restyled into a modern cut.

  ‘It’s different,’ she told him, before the lids of her eyes closed down and the life disappeared once again.

  That afternoon turned out to be a lovely sunny autumn day. Marty suggested that they go for a walk along the side of the cliffs which took them along to Torry Battery and up beside the lighthouse. Beth agreed and allowed him to take her hand as they began their walk.

  There was a slight breeze, but today the waves ebbed and flowed against the craggy rocks, which lined the coastline. The seagulls called to each other as they swooped down towards the sea. Neither Beth nor Marty talked they just walked in silence.

  Beth smelt the fresh sea air; it was like a balm to her soul. She looked out towards the never-ending sea and felt a rush of new life filter into her body. While they sat on the cliff they both felt the glimmer of some peace and allowed this to wash over them. When Marty took hold of her hand he felt hers return the pressure. It was the first sign to him that she had begun her recovery.

  It was a slow progress. Neither Marty nor Molly questioned Beth about what had happened to her and the children. They decided that she would tell them in her own time. She was allowing them both to slowly enter into her world. She allowed Marty to hold her and hug her tight. She allowed Molly to rub her shoulders and stroke her face; she now did this without recoil.

  It was three weeks after she arrived that Beth asked Molly one morning if she would mind her doing a bit of gardening. Molly was delighted and told her to go ahead. Anything she needed Beth just had to let her know and she would get it for her.

  Molly watched the young girl as she hauled and pulled dead plants and weeds from the garden. By the afternoon the front garden was weeded and transformed into a presentable tidy array of plants.

  Beth sat at the small table that evening and devoured every morsel of a large plate of stovies. Her cheeks had regained some of their fullness and there was some colour and vibrancy in her face. It was her eyes that were most noticeable, there was a glimmer of a spark appearing in them, just a glimmer, nevertheless it was a start.

  Beth continued to recover, every day brought a slight improvement. She continued through October to tackle the back garden. There was a significant difference in the way in which she went about this, she only ventured into the garden when the weather was dry, and she no longer felt the need to drench herself in the obsessive manner as she had done in the garden at Cairn View. Allowing the rain to penetrate her body, had been one of Beth’s measures she had adopted to try and cleanse herself of the desperate feeling of filth and sin she had felt.

  She also offered to help Molly around the house, and although Molly did not relish the idea of another woman in her kitchen, she realised that this was all part of Beth’s recovery. She forced herself to sit back and observe while Beth made one of her special pans of broth. While she was chopping the vegetables, Beth began to share some of her experiences of her upbringing with Molly.

  Molly was not shocked by what she told her, the older woman was far too streetwise and knew of many families who behaved in a similar way. When Molly worked in the fish houses she had heard many men and women whose home life would make her want to weep, it was incredibly cruel. She also had witnessed how many of these people were hard workers, had pulled themselves up and were living good wholesome lives. She did not judge the Menzie’s, no, sometimes things happen for a reason and circumstances dictate.

  Encouraged by Molly’s non-judgmental attitude, Beth continued to talk to her. She still did not
share anything about the children, it was almost if she was awaiting her moment, a moment she knew that Marty needed to share.

  It was on the following Sunday afternoon when the time came. It would be six weeks come the following day since the rescue had taken place. It was a cold, wet, dreich October day. Molly and Beth had produced a traditional Sunday lunch. The companionship the two women worked under continued well into the afternoon as they cajoled and teased Marty into helping with the washing up. He laughed with them realising that, with joy, he was listening to Beth’s laughter once again.

  He ordered them to go and sit in the sitting room while he brought the two ladies in his life a nice cuppa. They giggled as he swooped down and kissed both on the cheeks.

  The fire had been lit in the grate and was sending a cosy glow into the already darkened room. Marty sat in one of the armchairs while Molly settled into the other. Beth chose to sit on the floor in front of the fire, leaning with her back onto Marty’s legs. It just seemed the right moment to mention the children. It helped that while she spoke she could talk while watching the flames flicker, and she did not have to look into either of her companions faces. She could be mesmerised by looking into the glowing embers. Normally on dark afternoons, Molly would draw the curtains and switch on the standard lamp, but she sensed there was an air of tension and anticipation and just allowed them to continue to sit in the semi-darkness.

  Beth started to tell her story about the bairns, starting with Stevie. She described the wee boy to them, telling them about the joy of holding him, his first smile and his first steps. Everything she could remember. She felt Marty’s hand caress the back of her neck as she spoke.

  She knew that she would have to confess to them how she became pregnant the second time. Once she started she found it easier than she thought, this was the first time she had ever said terrible words out loud. The first time she had put the words to the images which flashed through her mind when she remembered those events. She told them everything in a flat tone; it was almost as though she was reading a recipe. She shivered as she described how she had scrubbed herself raw after every visit she had had from Roger. How she was as much to blame as her father in this. She should have stopped him. Looking back on it, she could have run away, told someone. Except she did not, so she must have been responsible.

  If the room had been light then she would have seen the anger in Marty’s eyes. In Molly’s she would have seen compassion. Neither of the two members of her audience spoke. They felt that if they had done, it may have broken the spell; they both instinctively knew that Beth must be allowed the silence to continue to tell her story.

  The air became even tenser when she recounted every detail of what had taken place on the morning of 19th June 1977. It was the first time she had articulated the events to anyone. The first time she had shared the depths of her despair with another being. She told them of the sense that her bairns must be better off with these people; she, after all, was such a bad person. She alluded to how she had tried to end her life, but knew that she would hurt the only person who had shown her any compassion, Jason.

  Beth continued to share her story until the coal in the fire had burned through leaving only the embers glowing in the grate. Marty was the first to speak. ‘Beth, none of this was your fault, and before you disagree Beth, just listen.’ As he spoke he moved out of the chair and onto the floor to sit beside her. As he did so, he placed his arm around her shoulders and when level with her, he took her face into his hands and locked his eyes on to her.

  ‘Beth, I love you, I have always loved you, and I know you are not a bad person, you are a lovely, beautiful woman who would never in a million, zillion years ever harm anyone.’ His voice was shaking from the pent up emotion he was feeling. ‘Of course you could not do anything to stop that man. How could you, when your father had threatened you? Beth, you have got to believe me when I tell you it was not your fault.’

  She responded by laying her head onto his shoulder and allowing him to stroke her head. Slowly, very slowly, the tears began to trickle down her face, however, this time they were different, this time they were mixed with a sense of relief that someone had said the words that she was not bad and it was not her fault. She was not sure whether she believed them, but she had heard them.

  Sensing that this had been a breakthrough, Molly stood, ‘Well, I think it’s time for another cup of tea don’t you?’ She switched on the standard lamp which sent its soft glow through the room. ‘And lassie,’ she moved to bend down to get eye contact with Beth, ‘I need to tell you that I agree with Marty. I am sorry to say it, on the contrary if there is anyone to blame for any of what’s happened to you… then it’s your father who must be the prime suspect. It is most definitely not you, for goodness sake, you are not more than a bairn yourself.’ She stood to her full height, puffing out her small chest as she did so. She knew what she would say if one Fred Menzie was in front of her now.

  Molly left the young couple and took an extraordinary long time to make the tea, feeling that they needed time together. The time gave her an opportunity to curse under her breath and send these curses through the air to the despicable man who would sell his daughter. The bastard. What man would do that? Now it took a great deal to shock Molly, but this was one thing that shocked her to her core.

  It seemed natural and inevitable that Marty would take Beth into his bed that night. This was not for sex, but for comfort. He held her in his arms until she fell into a deep sleep; while she slept, Marty reflected on all that she had told him. He felt exhausted just thinking about it, and could only imagine what it must have been like for Beth to have to cope with it on her own.

  He felt himself experience that first wave of anger, which he knew would be followed by gigantic and overwhelming rages. He also knew that he needed to keep these at bay for the moment. His immediate major task was to stay calm to comfort and reassure Beth. He did allow a sense of overpowering need to protect and shield his love from any further hurt. This he vowed to himself he would do for the rest of his life.

  Molly did not sleep much that Sunday night; in fact, she gave up about five in the morning and crept downstairs to fill the kettle to make a cup of tea. The sleeplessness was not due to her nephew taking this girl into his bed; no, she knew it would only be a matter of time before that happened. It did not really bother her. The two young people needed each other and why would she want to try and prevent that?

  No, what had kept her awake was imagining what Beth had gone through. It was only now that she could understand why the young lassie had arrived in such a state. No wonder it had taken her six weeks before she could trust them enough to share such painful memories, she had needed to be sure that they would not reject her, but how could they have?

  Every time she had closed her eyes to try and sleep she could only picture that awful man taking advantage of her. It had awakened painful memories of how her own virginity had been disposed of, by a drunken man who had dragged her up a back alley during the blackout. She had been twenty-two years old and had thought she should have been able to look after herself. She had never told anyone about this; her parents had had enough to cope with, what with losing her brother. So she had tried to put it behind her and get on with her life, although she made doubly sure she would never allow herself to let a man get close to her again.

  However, listening to Beth had re-awakened all of the memories of what it felt like that she somehow had brought it on herself. She remembered questioning herself, had she behaved in a certain way to give the man a signal that she had wanted it to happen? She recalled that these thoughts had occupied her mind for many months after the rape. And it had been rape, and this was what she believed had happened to Beth as well. Beth was nothing but a child and, as a child, how she could have prevented that man from doing what he had done, especially as that man had the consent of the one person who should have been objecting and protecting his daughter?

  Several cups of tea late
r, Molly heard footsteps on the stairs and went and refilled the kettle yet again. A ruffled-haired Marty appeared. It was his day off so there was no hurry for him to get his breakfast.

  ‘How is she?’ Molly enquired.

  ‘She’s still sleeping. She woke up, although has fallen asleep again, so I have slipped out.’ He took a sip of the tea which she placed before him before continuing, ‘You don’t mind, do you, Aunty, you know about Beth being in my bed?’

  ‘Listen, son, I know you are both very young, and perhaps I should be acting like the Victorian aunt, but after what you have been through, who am I to try and prevent what seems to be destined? I would rather it was out in the open than creeping around. All I would advise, Marty, is be careful, that wee lassie has had enough hurt to last her a lifetime. Take it slowly, that’s all.’

  ‘Thanks, Aunty, you’re one in a million.’ He walked over and placed a big kiss on her cheek and then returned to his seat. ‘I know what I would like to do to that bastard of a father of hers, and her mother too for not protecting her.’

  Hearing her beloved nephew speak with such anger caused Molly some anxiety. ‘Now lad, you’re not thinking of doing anything silly, are you?’

  She was relieved when he shook his head. ‘No. Not anything that would make the situation worse that’s for sure. No, for as much as I would like to, beating up that bastard would not make it better for Beth.’ He finished his tea and allowed the cup to be refilled again. ‘I wonder where those bairns are. All I can hope is that this couple who have adopted them will be good to them.’ He paused a moment, clearly reflecting that one of them was his own flesh and blood. He continued, ‘And make sure they are well looked after.’