by Joan Lingard
‘You’d never get me in a thing like that,’ said Elma.
‘Me either,’ said Pauline, who had returned the day before from Aberdeen. She had been homesick, had missed Edinburgh and seeing her dad and her best pal Willa. She was back in the double bed with her though it had been made clear that it would have to be for only a limited time for its rightful occupier would soon be on his way home. It was a fact which Willa was trying to keep to the back of her mind. Reading Tommy’s letters she felt as if she were reading a piece of fiction related by a made-up character called Tommy.
Rio is an enchanting city, especially at night when it is brilliantly illuminated. ‘Rio Nights’ are famous. People are out and about in the streets until all hours. They love to dance the nights away, samba-ing and tango-ing. Cafés stay open as long as there are customers. We have frequented quite a few. Rum is cheap! The locals are being friendly to us boys in blue.
‘I bet they are!’ said Bunty. ‘Very friendly.’
‘Do you have to keep making remarks like that?’ said Ina.
‘I thought rum was cheap for the Navy anyway,’ said Pauline. ‘A sailor I met once at the Palais told me.’
Elma gave her a look of disapproval. Willa read on.
We are making the most of our time here since once we leave South America we shall be heading for Cape St Vincent, which, sad to say, will hold none of the delights of Rio or BA. And, after that, back to dear Old Blighty!
‘What date was that written?’ asked Elma.
‘The fifth,’ said Willa.
‘It’s the twenty-fourth today,’ said Bunty.
‘So where will he be now?’ asked Ina.
‘At sea, possibly,’ said Willa.
‘I can’t believe he’ll soon be home,’ said Ina. She looked down at Malcolm who was on the floor building a tower with wooden blocks, putting one on top of the other with careful precision. ‘Your daddy’s coming to see you, Malkie.’
She had been telling him that ever since they’d come back to stay with his grandmother. For the first few days Malcolm had been wary of his grandmother and wouldn’t go near her but gradually he’d got used to her again though he didn’t cling to her as much as he had before, which gratified his mother. She had come to the conclusion that babies were infinitely adjustable and if she were to take him to London he would soon forget the life here in his granny’s flat with his great-aunts coming and going. Was she really thinking of going to London or was it a fantasy that she allowed herself to entertain before drifting off to sleep, in the hope that she might be happy in her dreams? Richard talked about it as if it really were feasible. But how wonderful it would be to go and live with him in London – anywhere at all in the world away from Edinburgh!
Malcolm looked at the tower which he had so patiently built and with one swift movement of his chubby hand he demolished it and then crowed with delight. He looked up at his mother seeking her admiration.
‘I see you,’ she said. ‘Now do it again.’
And he began to do so.
‘Tommy’s going to be over the moon about that boy.’ Bunty stood up and stretched herself. ‘I must be on my way.’
‘Me too,’ said Elma. “I’m going to get us some tripe for our tea and do it in milk. Gerald’s got a bit of a dicky stomach at the moment. It comes and goes with him.’
After they had gone Willa asked Ina if she’d like to take Malcolm out for a stroll in his pram. She’d carry it down the stairs for her. Ina was pleased to be asked.
‘I might walk him up to Bruntsfield and get us an ice cream. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Malkie? Your old granny knows what you like.’
He was more interested in his building blocks at the moment. Sitting on people’s knees had lost its appeal for him.
‘I was thinking,’ Ina began hesitantly, ‘that I might call in on Miss McIndoe on the way, see about getting fitted for a new pair of stays. The old ones are not that comfy anymore.’
‘That’s a good idea. If you’re needing some help with the money…’
‘No, no, I’ve some put by.’
Willa carried Malcolm down the stairs and buckled him into his pram – he was becoming too strong for his grandmother to handle – and watched them setting off up the hill. She was going to the library, which had become the main meeting place again for herself and Richard now that she was no longer living in Mrs Mooney’s flat. Maureen had decided to move back to Dublin. ‘Well, there’s nothing here for me, dear, is there?’ she’d said to Willa.
‘I’ll chum you up the road, Willa,’ said Pauline, who had come down the stairs behind her. ‘I thought I’d pop into the Infirmary and see if they need any extra staff in the office. You never know.’ She’d been attending some classes at McAdams Institute for shorthand and typing.
On their way up Lauriston Place they met Maureen. She’d been shopping. She was carrying bags from several stores and had Daffy on the lead trailing behind her.
‘I’ve sold my flat,’ she told them, ‘so I’ll be off in a couple of weeks.’
‘Dublin sounds exciting,’ said Pauline.
‘It does and it doesn’t. I like the place, don’t get me wrong, but there’s an awful lot of poverty and that can get you down if you let it.’
‘There is in Edinburgh too,’ said Willa.
‘But more in Dublin, believe you me! Ireland’s poor as dirt. Maybe we should have kept in with Britain! You should see the shawlies in Dublin – the women in their black shawls with their hordes of childer – begging in the streets and at the railway station. Smelling like all get out. I know it’s the church that keeps them that way, breeding all those childer. Still, I’m going back. There’s something about the oul’ place that gets to me. And an old friend of mine, well, we’ve been in touch.’
‘And Gerry?’
‘He’d be like fish out of water over there. He’d never make the break, you know that. He belongs here.’
With Elma, thought Willa. Did she belong here, with Tommy? But, then, would Tommy ever belong anywhere?
‘Will you be taking Daffy with you?’ asked Pauline.
‘Probably not. There could be a problem with quarantine. Would you fancy having him, Willa? They say dogs are good for children.’
‘I’m sorry but we’ve no room.’
‘I asked Gerry but he says his wife can’t stick animals.’
‘She can’t stick much,’ said Pauline.
‘Oh well, I expect I’ll find a good home for you somewhere, won’t I, Daffy pet? Your mammy won’t leave you in the street. One of Bunty’s customers’ll come up trumps.’
‘Will we see you before you go?’ asked Willa.
‘You certainly will! I’m not going quietly. We’ll have a good old knees-up.’
Willa left Pauline at the Infirmary gates and wished her luck.
Richard was at his old table in the library, writing in his exercise book. He closed it as she approached.
‘How’s it going?’ she asked.
He made a face. ‘So-so. I haven’t been working at it consistently enough. Too many other distractions.’
They smiled at each other.
‘Shall we go and have a cup of tea?’ he said. ‘I’ll just pop down to the gents first.’
When he’d gone Willa took a peep inside the exercise book, something she had been longing to do for a while. He had said he would let her read it sometime. She opened it at a page and froze.
Trinconmali, Ceylon
Dear Margaret,
We arrived here in a very heavy rainstorm. You never see the likes of it in Edinburgh! It just buckets down for hours without stopping.
Her eye travelled on to the signature at the end. Love, Danny. She had never read out the ends of the letters to Richard so there was nothing about giving mother his love.
She did not notice him returning.
‘You shouldn’t have read that,’ he said quietly, taking the book from her.
‘You’ve been writing a novel about a s
ailor called Danny and his wife Margaret! You’ve filched it all from Tommy’s letters and what I’ve told you!’
‘Writers often do take things from life, you know that yourself.’
‘But this is stealing, from me, in cold blood!’
‘It’s not, Willa, believe me.’
‘You’ve betrayed me.’ She was up on her feet now. They stood face to face. ‘You’ve used me!’
‘I haven’t, I swear I haven’t! Please let me talk to you about it.’
‘Would you two go and continue your conversation elsewhere, please,’ said the nasty librarian, coming across to them. ‘You can be heard all over the library.’
Willa ran from the room, leaving the door swinging behind her. Richard stayed long enough to gather up his possessions and then he went after her. By the time he got outside she was half way along George IV Bridge. He didn’t catch up with her until the top of Middle Meadow Walk. He caught hold of her and held her fast.
‘I love you, don’t you understand that? I do. For God’s sake, listen to me!’ He was shouting. A couple of women had stopped to stare at them.
Willa collapsed. ‘Why then? Why then did you do it?’
‘I started because I was interested in what you were telling me. It was such a different world to mine, yet here we were, Tommy and I, both born and raised in Edinburgh. And then, after a while, I carried on because I wanted to try to understand what was happening to me. To us, Willa. But I didn’t intend to publish it and I won’t, I promise you. Trust me, please! For I do love you. How many times do I have to tell you?’
She shook her head, bewildered.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he said. ‘Let’s go up Arthur’s Seat. It’s far away from everybody.’
They stopped halfway up the hill and sat in a sheltered hollow out of the wind.
‘Willa, I am prepared to give up university and take you away somewhere. We could still go to London. I’ve been thinking it out. I’ve a bit of money in the post office and I’d get a job. I’m certain I could, in some kind of office.’
‘But your degree?’
‘It’s not the be-all and end-all of everything. Anyway, I want to be a novelist and you don’t need one for that. But it would take time of course to earn a proper living.’ He seized her shoulders. ‘Look at me! Don’t look away! I mean it.’
She looked at him and she believed him. He was one of the most truthful people she had ever known. She caught her breath. Could it be, was it, might it be possible? ‘But Malcolm?’
‘He can come, too. I know you’d never leave him and I wouldn’t want you to.’
‘I wish, Richard, you don’t know how much I wish it!’
‘For goodness sake then let your wish come true!’
‘But I’m worried that Tommy might get custody of Malcolm. I’d be the guilty party if I left him.’
‘He wouldn’t get custody. He’s away most of the time. How could he look after a child?’
‘His mother could. Courts don’t like women who walk out on their husbands. They seem to think it’s the woman’s duty to sacrifice everything for the sake of the family, never mind the price! And maybe it is,’ she added.
‘You can’t believe that!’
‘I don’t know!’
‘Now listen, they would not give custody to his mother. Why should they? She’s too old and they couldn’t make you out to be a bad mother.’
‘Sometimes I wonder.’
‘Because you leave him with his grandmother from time to time?’
‘But I’ve committed adultery!’
‘And what about Tommy?’
‘Oh that doesn’t count, does it? He’s just having a wee fling while he’s away from home doing his duty to king and country. That’s understandable. And you know what sailors are! It’s different for me. I would be considered to have “ruined my reputation”.’
‘Are you worried about that? What people would say?’
‘I wouldn’t if I were going away with you, far away from here.’
‘That’s what I’m asking you to do.’
‘And I’m tempted, yes, I am! But Richard, you might come to resent it in time—’
‘Never!’
‘You might because you’d given up your chance of finishing your education.’
‘I wouldn’t. Not if I had you.’
‘You sound so sure.’ He is so wholehearted, she thought. She could not be; she was torn too many ways.
‘That’s because I am. Willa, you love me, don’t you?’
‘You know I do!’
‘Well then!’
~ 26 ~
Rio de Janeiro
A view of Rio with Sugar Loaf Mountain in the background. Thought you’d be interested to see it.
Tommy xxx
She was not. Not remotely. She gave the picture postcard a scant look before laying it on the kitchen table beside her note for his mother. Ina had gone to have her hair permed in anticipation of her son’s homecoming. She would be away for at least a couple of hours, more likely three. They were slow in that hairdresser’s. Women went for an afternoon outing.
Malcolm was playing on the bedroom floor with his bricks. He looked up as she came in and grinned and she dropped a kiss on his head before going to the wardrobe. She took out her best clothes and shoes, wanting to leave most of the space in the bag for Malcolm’s. She worked quickly and within minutes she had packed. She could take only what she could carry in one hand; she had to keep the other arm free for Malcolm.
When the bag was closed and ready to be lifted, she put on her own coat and then his.
‘We’re going on a journey, love, on a train,’ she told him, as she hoisted him up onto her hip, ‘so you’ve got to be a very good boy.’ He chortled and reached up to bat her face with the palm of his hand.
She felt calm this morning after a turbulent night during which neither she nor Pauline had slept. Pauline had cried and said she would miss Willa and Willa had cried for a number of reasons. Do you think you’re doing the right thing? Pauline had kept asking. I don’t know what the right thing is, Willa had said in return. I simply know that I am doing what my heart tells me to do. I will never love anyone again the way I love Richard.
She took a quick look round the room, lifted the bag and walked out of the flat, pulling the door shut behind her. There, she’d done it!
Outside, on the landing, she paused. It was very still and quiet in the stairwell. Almost eerily so. Not even a cat seemed to be moving. Malcolm sat immobile on her hip, his eyes large and bright. She descended the stairs carefully and at the bottom took a cautious look into the street before venturing out. Seeing no one she recognised she crossed the road to the tram stop on the other side to wait for a tram going to Princes Street.
A dray rattled by, its barrels rolling a little. The driver was yawning. The horse looked tired, too, about ready for the knacker’s yard. A sweep passed carrying his spiky black brushes over his shoulder, whistling softly. Mrs Begg came out of the wool shop opposite. Willa shrank back but she hadn’t noticed them. Now she was going into the stair door. Willa leant out to get a better view of the street. She didn’t normally have to wait so long for a tram. But this wasn’t a normal day. What if there’d been an accident? A hold-up? What if Ina were to come out of the hairdresser’s early and see them?
What a relief when she saw a tram loom into sight and come swinging down the hill towards them, its bell clanging. She clambered aboard with Malcolm laughing and wriggling so that he could see what was going on around him. He’d come back to life. He loved riding on trams and crowed whenever the bell clanged. She sat at the window and he stood up on her knee to look out, putting his hands flat against the window pane. With a lurch, they were off.
As the tram took the bend into Lothian Road, swaying on its tracks, Willa began to feel sick. She swallowed, opened the top button of her blouse. The tram was packed. A woman in front of her began to cough, a worrying, racking sound. A man, who had com
e down from the top deck, was smoking a foul pipe. Outside in the street, women were going in and out of shops, unaware of Willa in the hot, crowded tram, struggling to control her nausea.
What was she doing? Could she go through with it? Take Malcolm away not only from his father but his grandmother and his aunts? His family. They formed a circle around him, a protective one. They loved him, even Elma, who would never say so in words. Bunty, she knew, would be sympathetic and not blame her. She would miss Bunty. She’d wanted to talk to her before leaving but had thought it might be too big a secret to ask Tommy’s aunt to keep.
But she loved Richard, more than she’d ever loved Tommy, and she wanted to live with him: that was what she would have told Bunty. That was all! It sounded simple, but of course was not; there were too many people involved whose lives would be touched. In the end, though, did she not have a right to some happiness herself? Was it so very selfish to want that? Her thoughts ran on and turned back and reran.
The tram braked at traffic lights and the man with the pipe took the chance to jump off, leaving a whiff of acrid smoke behind him. The red light ahead of them, caught in a blaze of sunshine, glistened like a sucked fruit lozenge. Willa, her eyes transfixed by it, felt hypnotised. They seemed to sit there for ever. Was the light never going to change? The woman in the seat in front was still coughing. Malcolm, annoyed by the lack of movement, began to bang on the window. A woman across the aisle glared at him but Willa did not notice. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.
And then the light changed from amber to green and they were off again but only briefly for soon the bell was clanging and the tram pulling into a stop.
A woman with a large shopping bag got on and sat down beside Willa. ‘I’m not squashing you, dear, am I?’
‘No, no, I’m fine.’ Willa moved over.
The woman eyed Malcolm. ‘That’s a great wee lad you’ve got there. What bonny eyes you have, son! I see you there!’ She wriggled her fingers at him. ‘He doesn’t look like you at all. He must take after his dad?’