She does not understand. Why must her husband always keep her in shackles?
When Nurse Lynn comes out, the man continues his painful journey in to see his doctor, and the woman beside Ellie says to her friend,
‘That Bill Mathie’s not long fur this world, ah reckon, Bella.’
‘Whit is it? Dae ye ken?’
The woman whispers something that Ellie cannot make out, but she hears several intakes of breath.
It is only when the Bella woman is called and leaves to see a doctor called Hurry that Ellie understands why her husband has stopped her from speaking. As soon as Doctor Hurry’s door has closed on Bella, the woman next to Ellie addresses the man who sits opposite her across a table scattered with magazines.
‘It’s a right shame, thir always the last tae ken.’
‘Is it still goan oan then, Isa?’
‘Aye, Bella’s man is niver done sniffin’ roon Tess Mitchell. In fact, no jist sniffin’, Shug, no jist sniffin’.’
‘It’s a pure shame, so it is.’
James rises from his seat and moves to the table between them breaking the eye contact of the two gossips. The time he takes to rummage for a magazine seems longer than necessary and is enough to halt the conversation and the waiting room falls into silence.
When ‘Mr Mason for Dr Wishart’ is called, Ellie is sure she hears several clicking noises from the busy mouths in room.
She had expected Dr Wishart to be an old man but he is not.
James shakes his hand and says, ‘Thanks for seeing us without an appointment.’ He signals to the door.
‘They’re not too happy out there about us being taken so soon.’
The doctor laughs a gentle laugh. ‘Don’t worry about them; give them something to gab about. Most of them are here every week, I’m sure they only come for the blether.’
‘What a beautiful baby.’ The doctor holds out his arms and takes Nat onto his knee. ‘What can I do for you?’
James explains about Ellie and Nat’s recent arrival and about the nurse’s suggestion they should be registered. He coughs and says,
‘I also think my wife may not be too well.’
Ellie can feel her heart quicken and her skin begin to bristle like a cat backed into a corner. Is she not here, does she not have a voice of her own?
The doctor looks at Ellie over his glasses.
‘In what way not well?’ he asks her.
‘She cries a lot and thinks everyone hates her,’ James says.
Ellie can feel heat in her blood. Her head bows; she does not want this man to think she is possessed by some evil spirit even though sometimes she feel she has been.
‘I see,’ is all he says, before turning his attention to Nat. He delivers Nat back onto Ellie’s lap and asks her to undress him. He looks at the notes on his desk.
‘I see here in the nurse’s report a mention of a rash on Nat’s hand - has that cleared up?’
‘Yes,’ Ellie whispers.
‘And a bruise?’
‘Is a mark of birth.’ She points to it.
‘So it is,’ he says. ‘Sorry, she should have known.’ He sounds Nat with a stethoscope that Nat tries to grab, but the doctor is too quick for him. Dr Wishart then takes his temperature and examines his eyes and mouth. He returns to his desk, makes some scratches with a pen and then asks Ellie to dress Nat again.
‘Well, Ellie, you have a fine healthy son there,’ the doctor says. ‘Breast-fed, I assume?’
‘Yes,’ Ellie whispers again, but she feels a small smile pull at her cheeks. The doctor looks at James. ‘You should be proud of your wife. She has given your son the best possible start.’
‘Yes, yes, I am,’ James says, but Ellie thinks he does not sound so sure and would prefer to throw the blanket over them again.
The doctor writes some more then stands and takes the baby from Ellie and hands him to James.
‘Take Nat into the waiting room, James, while I examine your wife.’
Ellie can see her husband’s reluctance, but he submits to the doctor’s request.
When the door closes, the doctor does not return behind his desk but sits in the seat James has just vacated next to Ellie.
‘Now, Ellie, I am just going to give you a quick look over and ask you a few questions, it shouldn’t take long. How long have you been here, in this country?’
‘Three months.’ She finds her voice is leaving her, and is replaced with tightness in her chest.
‘And how has your health been?’ he asks as he looks in her ears.
‘I had a cold last week, not bad.’ She takes a deep breath to quell the quiver in her throat. She wills this doctor to stop being nice to her. She is sure she will cry and does not want the people in the waiting room to see her tears.
‘What did you take for your cold?’
She can feel herself stiffen as he rubs the stethoscope with his hands to make it warm.
‘Did you take anything for your cold?’ he repeats. She wonders if he has heard of the police officer’s visit and of the accusation.
‘I take herbs.’
‘Really?’ he says as he listens to her chest and her pounding heart.
He sits down beside her again. ‘What herbs did you take?’
‘Raspberry leaf and sage.’
‘And did it work?’
She nods, ‘Yes, I am better.’
‘Good,’ is all he says. A small wrinkle appears in his brow, making him look older.
‘How do you feel in yourself?’
‘I do not understand.’
‘Do you miss your home?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you miss about your home?’
‘My mother.’ The pressure in Ellie’s chest makes it hard for her to breath. She wishes this doctor would stop asking her questions. She wants to go home to her kitchen.
‘What do you find hardest about living here?’
Ellie looks at his kind white face and considers lying, but knows this is wrong. She swallows and says, ‘All the white faces. Everywhere, white faces.’
‘Yes, I can see that would be a problem.’ The doctor says. ‘Do you ever get depressed, Ellie?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Your husband said you cry a lot. Do you cry?’
Ellie nods her head before she gives him his evidence.
‘Do you often feel tired?’
Again she nods.
The doctor rises and begins to write something in the notes and then on a prescription pad.
‘When was the last time you left Hollyburn?’
Ellie stares at the doctor and shakes her head. And he mirrors her.
‘It cannot be easy for you, being here. I’m giving you something to make you feel better.’ Then he scores it out and says, ‘But you probably won’t take it, will you?’
‘No.’
‘Well, you find your own herb and eat plenty greens.’
He holds out his hand to help her out of the seat.
‘I have a baby clinic on the last Wednesday of every month. I would encourage you to bring Nat.’ His smile warms her. ‘It would be good for you to meet others, and you would be a good role model to the mothers here. They think breast-feeding is a waste of time.’
‘Goodbye, Ellie. Make an appointment to come back in two weeks to see me again and we will see how you are feeling.’ He shakes her hand. ‘Try to get out of the village more.’
Ellie expects the doctor to ask to speak to James again, but he does not.
As she leaves the waiting room with her husband and baby, Ellie hesitates at the reception desk. The doctor told her to make an appointment.
‘What did the doctor say?’ James asks.
‘He says I am fine. I need to get out more, is all. Eat more greens,’ she says as she walks away from the desk knowing she does not lie to her husband.
The Pairty Line
‘Whit dae ye hink is wrang wi’ her?’
‘Ah dinnae ken, but she wis
a hell o’ a long time in wi’ him.’
‘Dae ye hink oor doctors will ken aboot foreign illnesses?’
‘Goad knows. She certainly looked happier comin’ oot than goan in.’
‘My, but that’s a bonny bairn she’s got. Eh?’
‘Ah ken. How did you get oan onywey?’
‘Och, the usual. Ma doctor hus ye in an’ oot afore ye’ve a chance tae git yer coat aff.’
‘Ah ken whit ye mean. Mine hus the prescription written an’ hondit tae ye as ye come in the door.’
‘Thir jist no interestit.’
‘No wi’ the like o’ us, but ah bet that wee black baby gits lots o’ attention. Eh?’
‘Dae ye think he could huv some horrible African diseases tae pass oan tae oor bairns?’
‘Mebbes, ah’ll be keepin’ ma bairns away fae um onywey.’
‘Ah’d hardly ca’ you’re bairns bairns.’
‘Disnae metter how auld they ir, they’ll ayeways be bairns tae me.’
‘If you say so.’
Chapter Eighteen
In the living room there is a gramophone that looks like a piece of furniture. A shiny front door with one handle pulls downwards with a soft shoof to reveal the turntable. Sad memories of the Reverend Mother’s study are evoked by the smell of beeswax polish that fills the room each time the gramophone door opens. Sometimes when Ellie is alone, she will sit in the living room and stare at this marvel, then temptation will grab her and she will open the door to capture those familiar feelings again.
Reverend Mother’s study was the only room in the mission school that did not smell of little children. It was the room you were sent to receive special news. Ellie had only been in the room three times. The first was the day she was told her father had died. She had not cried; she had asked to go home, but this was not permitted; it was too expensive. The mission would never survive if it paid for very child to return home when a family member died, the Reverend Mother had told her.
The second time was when the Reverend Mother had tried to persuade her to take her vows. That time did not last so long because the nuns already knew she had made up her mind. The third was when the Reverend Mother informed Ellie of her new home at the clinic up river. She would leave her home of ten years the next day and should be grateful she had this opportunity.
The dial beside the turntable in the gramophone has 33, 45 and 78 stamped round the edge like a cooker dial. In this house most of the records are heavy plastic and scratch out with the thick needle the music of Bing Crosby and Ruby Murray. There are a few lighter records too: Tchaikovsky and Mozart. To play these it is necessary to lift the gramophone arm and twist the needle to the other side because a thinner needle is needed.
Ellie has played all the records she could find in the house, including Andy Stewart’s A Scottish Soldier and Donald Where’s Yer Troosers - songs she has never heard on the Pirate Radio or even the Light Programme. She wants something she can dance to. High life music from home or music from America, the music she hears from the Pirates, that is what she wants.
James arrives back from an evening meeting at the big hoose just after nine. He bundles into the kitchen carrying a packet from the chip shop even though she has given him a tea of jollof rice before he left for his meeting. He kisses her and dumps the packet on the table
‘Wait till you see what I’ve brought you,’ he says, pushing the packet towards her and going to the cupboard for plates. He unwraps the packet and reveals two golden crispy tubes.
‘Spring rolls - they are Chinese and the chip shop has just started cooking them. Old Giuseppe said he got the idea when his daughter brought a ‘Chinkie’ back from the town.’
Ellie stares at the food.
‘Have you not had your meal? Am I a bad wife, do I not feed you enough?’ Ellie says. The jollof rice was good and filling, and yet here he is stuffing himself to busting with grease.
He munches into the golden rod. ‘I was a bit peckish, that’s all. They are lovely, try some.’
‘No, thank you, I am getting fat; I need to eat less.’ Ellie ignores her husband’s grin. He received one of those white envelopes from his mother that morning and Ellie wants to ask what it contained but pushes her tongue behind her teeth. Their silence ticks in time to the kitchen clock.
He shoves the packet towards her. ‘Come on.’
She can see the vein in his head throb which makes his smile false.
‘Have you been to the village today?’ he says, trying to stir the atmosphere.
‘Yes, I go after lunch time now, when the housewives nap and the shop is quiet. I do not frighten little children. Is that not good?’
James munches with his head down and does not answer her. Once she thought he was brave but now he is back in his own environment, she can see that he is not.
‘Where can I buy a record?’ she asks with a straight mask.
He stops chewing and stares at her with the second spring roll raised to his mouth.
‘What?’
‘Oh, you hear me now.’
‘Don’t start, Ellie.’
It is always ‘Do not start, Ellie, do not be daft, Ellie’ with him. He can never face an argument. This is the man who embraces Sister Bernadette’s rule of never going to bed with an angry word between them, a rule which only seems to work one way as she remembers the many slammed doors when he storms off to bed at a single mention of his mother. This is a rule which has served him well in avoidance, she thinks.
‘A record, I want to buy a record to play on the gramophone. I am bored with Bing Crosby and Troosers.’ She sees a tick of a smile at her attempt at a Scottish accent.
‘There is a record store in town, tell me what you want and I will go and buy it.’
‘No, I go next week – on my own and on the bus.’ She is satisfied at his shocked face. ‘The doctor says I am to get out of this village now and again. For my health.’
‘On the bus? Come on, Ellie, are you sure? You haven’t been on a bus before.’
‘You forget I travel all over my country on rough tracks and dried-up river beds. You forget that you met me when the valley bus broke down and you and your henchmen helped pull it from the ditch that your construction lorry ran us into.’
‘You mean winch man, not henchman.’
‘I know what I mean. I will go on the bus to town and then maybe I will take your son on the bus to Perth to visit his grandmother. How will she like that?’ Her tongue slips, even though her vow was to not mention his mother.
He looks at her, then away, and she knows by his flickering attention that he suspects she is serious.
‘Look, Ellie, about my mum. I’ve already told you, she just needs a little time.’
‘Time?’ She hears her voice rise and she forces herself to lower it. ‘Time, James? We have been married for two years.’
‘Yes, but she didn’t know. I thought it best not to tell her until just before you both moved over.’ His face colours, he knows this is wrong.
Ellie can feel the heat boil up in her chest, her fists clench and unclench on her lap. She lays them on the table, pressing hard to prevent her from hitting this husband of hers.
‘You did not tell her when Nathaneal was born? What is wrong with you? You did not rejoice, as all new fathers do? You hid behind distance. You tell me this now?’ The force of her anger robs her of breath. She pulls back her shoulders and sits erect, her neck stretched taut like King Cobra. ‘I cannot believe you are telling me you did not inform her about this marriage, about your baby until a few months ago.’ She grinds her teeth, she can hear the growl in her voice but that is what she wants.
‘Tell me, James, if you had not been sent back here, when were you planning to tell her? When Nat was in school, when he was himself married? Does your mother have claws or perhaps she has poison on her tongue? What are you afraid of, James?’
He pushes back his chair and stands up.
‘This is nonsense, Ellie, she knows now and
that is all that matters. She just needs time to adjust. Now I am going for a bath unless you have used all my hot water.’
Now it is his hot water. He forgets she is the one who cleans out the ashes, fills the coal scuttle from the bunker outside. It is she who heats the water while he is visiting his mother and goes to buy chips. This is no different from a woman’s life in her fatherland.
‘No, you are not running away this time.’ Ellie stands to block his way. Even though she is much shorter than he, she is heavier. He towers above her and places his hands on her shoulders.
‘Ellie, please don’t …’
‘No,’ she says, ‘I want you to promise to stand up to this woman.’ She can feel the grip on her shoulders tighten. The breath she has been holding in her chest is slowly releasing. ‘Take Nat to see her. Not me, I do not matter, but take Nat.’ She places her hand on his chest and feels his heart beating through his shirt. ‘Please take Nat.’
His eyes are downcast like a woman’s and she cannot see the truth in them when he says, ‘OK, I will speak to her next week and arrange something.’
With his hands still on her shoulder he moves her gently to the side of the door and escapes to his bath. All energy leaves Ellie’s body as she sits down at the kitchen table, lays her head on her crossed arms and prays that her husband keeps his word.
The Good Friday dinner dishes are clean and stacked, James has taken the Fairbairn boys to afternoon mass, and Nat is down for his nap. Ellie will sit quietly by the fire and write a letter to her mother. She has not heard from her family for a while and is becoming worried with the deepening political troubles in her fatherland. The phone rings. Ellie expects it to be the hoose calling. They are the only ones who call. Often it is Mrs Watson to ask James to fetch her some provisions from town, or the Fairbairn boys demanding James to take them to a friend’s house or back to boarding school. But the boys are with James so it must be Mrs Watson. Ellie has grown used to her chats with Mrs Watson and rushes to answer the phone before it rings off. She will ‘pass the time of day’ with her friend.
‘Hello.’
There is almost silence, just a faint insect buzz. Ellie wonders if it is the party line. When she first moved into the house James had tried to explain to her that they shared a telephone line with someone in the village. When the other party uses the line, James cannot. Sometimes when he has to make a call he picks the phone off the cradle, listens for a minute then slams it down again.
The Incomers Page 15