The Dark Side of Pleasure

by Margaret Thomson-Davis

  She found Mrs Cameron prostrate in bed in a deep sleep. A nurse in attendance told her that the doctor had left instructions that laudanum should be administered until Mrs Cameron recovered from the initial shock. Augusta paid the woman a week’s wages to ensure that her mama would be properly taken care of for at least that length of time. Then she developed a headache with the worry of how to successfully cover up such a sum from Luther in her housekeeping accounts. Despite her headache, however, she called on her father’s solicitor and discussed with him the arrangements for putting Cameron House along with most of the contents up for auction. A small cottage could then be purchased with the proceeds. Having done this, she returned to Blythswood Square, glad that she had managed to get something organised, yet wound up to a pitch of restlessness that made her sharp-tongued and impatient, even with the children. So much could go wrong, and the thought that Luther might discover what she was doing made the strain on her nerves almost unendurable. Yet she felt the necessity of helping her mother so strongly that she even went so far as to risk paying another week’s wages to the nurse.

  It was a great relief as well as a sadness when Cameron House went under the auctioneer’s hammer. The money it raised was a pathetic sum for the house that had once been not only elegant and impressive but also a happy home. However, it was enough to pay off the debts and purchase a cottage with an apple tree and a small vegetable patch at the back, plus a few chickens. At least her mother would have a roof over her head and with a little tuition and application would be able to keep herself with something to eat. Of course, it would not be easy for a lady to adjust to such circumstances, but the adjustment would have to be made none the less. Augusta dreaded the day when she would have to introduce Mrs Cameron to her new spartan way of life and she nursed a grievance against Luther that such a nerve-racking ordeal was necessary.

  Every time he mentioned his ideas for the building of a grand new mansion in the West End she froze with disapproval. She refused to contemplate living in luxury in a mansion when her mother had to face penury in a workman’s cottage.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  ‘What heinous crime have I committed?’ Billy asked Luther.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve just passed Augusta on the stairs and she not only ignored my greeting but just about shrivelled me in my tracks with the look she gave me.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Thank God for that, I thought perhaps my cravat was in poor taste or I had forgotten to genuflect.’

  ‘Watch your tongue.’

  Billy shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

  Luther lit a cigar. ‘You took on some men today.’

  ‘Yes, they applied and I knew we needed more navvies. Did you read the particulars when you got back? What do you think?’

  ‘I think you’re good with figures, Billy-boy, but I’m not so sure about men.’

  ‘What’s wrong with the men I took on? They’ve all had plenty of experience.’

  Luther grinned. ‘No need to get all hot and bothered. I just wondered how the men would take to the English ganger. English and Irish don’t mix all that well as a rule.’

  ‘Scots and Irish aren’t supposed to get on all that well either and look how you’ve got on!’

  ‘Touché. Have a cigar.’

  They both laughed and after they lit their cigars and relaxed back in their chairs on opposite sides of the fire. Luther said,

  ‘Right, me Billy-boy, to what do we owe the honour of your company tonight?’

  ‘I wanted to speak to you, Luther.’

  ‘About something that couldn’t be said at the office.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘You know that I’ve been courting Miss Hester for some time now.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, we love each other and would like to become officially engaged in the hope that we could be married quite soon.’

  Luther’s lips pursed in doubt. ‘Not too soon I hope, Billy. You’re a bit young, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’m twenty and as much of a man as I’ll ever be.’

  Luther regarded the tall gangly lad with affection. ‘You have my blessing.’

  Billy’s earnest face lit up. ‘Thanks, Luther. A lot depends on you, you see.’

  ‘Oh?’ Luther’s eyes twinkled. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, I know Hester’s papa is wealthy and she will have a sizeable dowry and that’s all very well but I want to be able to feel I can support my wife by my own efforts too.’

  ‘You want a rise in your salary.’

  ‘Only if you think I’m worth it, Luther.’

  ‘Of course, you’re worth it. You’re my right-hand man, the most conscientious employee in that office. I’ve never known you even to be one minute late. You always give of your best. You’re a trier, Billy-boy. I like triers. How does an extra twenty pounds a month sound for the moment?’

  ‘Oh, Luther, most generous. That’ll make all the difference. Thank you very much indeed.’

  They drank a toast to Miss Hester and to her betrothal to Billy, and Luther basked in his young brother’s joy.

  He had meant what he said about Billy’s conscientiousness. The lad had still a lot to learn but he was a hard and eager worker. Too eager perhaps. And too excitable, but he was young and had plenty of time to get to grips with himself and his job. To keep a firm grip on the navvies was important. Disturbances were apt to erupt for no reason at all after a few drinks or even without the stimulus of drink. At the moment the small village of Springburn on the outskirts of Glasgow housed a large number of navvies and it was such a hotbed of trouble that twelve special constables had been appointed and each supplied with a baton and a copy of instructions for police. This had proved a complete waste of time. The navvies paid not the slightest attention to the constables who if they did manage to arrest one navvy were overwhelmed by hundreds of them and forced to relinquish their prisoner, long before they reached a Glasgow police station.

  Luther decided to ride out to Springburn the following day and size up the situation, but was prevented from doing so by a meeting with some of the directors in Edinburgh. He was given notice of the meeting in a letter that came into his hands first thing in the morning.

  After reading it he said, ‘Bugger it!’

  ‘Something wrong?’ Billy looked up from his desk.

  ‘I don’t know. Some bloody meeting in Edinburgh. Would you let Augusta know? I probably won’t manage back tonight.’

  ‘Maybe there’s more sections coming up for contracting?’

  ‘There’s been nothing advertised.’

  ‘Maybe they won’t advertise for tenders for the rest of the line. We’ve been doing such a good job so far maybe they’ll . . . .’

  Luther’s broad chest jerked with laughter.

  ‘Nobody serves anything up on a plate, Billy-boy. It has to be fought for every inch of the way. Anyway, I’m leaving you in charge but I suggest you ride out to Springburn today and have a look around the Bishopbriggs section as well. There’s been too many disturbances there recently. We’ll have to do something to keep a tighter control.’

  The words were hardly out of his mouth before Billy was struggling into his coat and eagerly hastening away to comply with his orders.

  Smiling to himself and shaking his head Luther set off for Edinburgh. The meeting turned out to be a dull routine affair. He gave his usual progress report and afterwards could quite easily have had time to return to Glasgow, but McLure who had also been at the meeting suggested they sample the delights of the Edinburgh taverns.

  Luther readily agreed and thoroughly enjoyed the carousal. Next day he had not felt so fit and full of fun and was in no hurry to arise from his hotel bed.

  The pale December sun had disappeared and darkness muffled Edinburgh before he left the city and made tracks for home.

  Later over dinner in the dining-room at Blythswood Square he asked
Billy how he had got on at Springburn and Bishopbriggs.

  Billy hesitated. ‘You did say we must keep a firm grip on things, Luther.’

  Luther nodded.

  ‘And I take it you would agree that in order to do that one must uphold authority.’

  ‘What are you getting at, Billy?’ Luther asked but in a good-humoured tone.

  ‘That English ganger . . . .’

  ‘A spot of bother, eh?’

  ‘Not exactly. But he came to me and complained about one of the navvies, a man called Doolan who had apparently worked under him in Cheshire. Green, that’s the English man, said that Doolan was useless at his job. And apparently when he reprimanded Doolan and some of the other men, Doolan was impertinent.’

  ‘I know Doolan. I’ve always found him a good worker. He’s spirited, though. He could have been impertinent. What happened?’

  ‘Green asked for Doolan’s dismissal. So I paid Doolan off.’

  Luther selected a bunch of grapes and proceeded to eat them in silence.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, what?’

  ‘Did I do the right thing?’

  ‘That remains to be seen, sport.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you have taken the ganger’s side?’

  ‘I might.’

  ‘You’ve taken the ganger’s side often enough before.’

  Luther grinned. ‘Take it easy, Billy-boy. I’m not criticising you. If you get all worked up like this every time you’ve to sack a man you’re going to wear yourself out before you’re thirty.’

  Billy nodded ruefully. ‘I wish I could be more like you.’

  ‘You should be so lucky!’

  Billy grinned then. ‘Will you be going to the diggings tomorrow?’

  ‘Bishopbriggs, you mean? Tomorrow or the next day I expect.’

  ‘I’d like you to have a word with Green. See what you think of him yourself. He seems a really strong character to me. If he can’t keep order there, no one can.’

  ‘All right, I’ll look him over. ‘He glanced across at Augusta who was daintly sipping a cup of coffee. ‘I’ve some plans you might be interested in having a look at.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Plans?’

  ‘Remember I mentioned the idea of a villa out west?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You might be able to come up with some useful suggestions at this stage.’

  ‘You have made up your mind then?’ She neatly folded her napkin and placed it on the table.

  ‘If you’re finished I’ve laid them out in the parlour.’

  They all rose and the maid hastened to open the door for them.

  Through in the other room Augusta dutifully examined the drawings that Luther had spread on the escritoire.

  ‘Well?’ Luther asked. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think that building railways has accustomed you to visualise everything on a very large scale.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about running a place as big as that. We can afford to employ plenty of servants.’

  Her small hand rested lightly on the paper.

  Billy, who was standing at the other side of her, burst out enthusiastically:

  ‘What a place, Luther! This surpasses everything.’

  ‘Augusta?’ Luther looked round at her enquiringly.

  ‘A ballroom?’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’

  She gave the tiniest of shrugs, but the barely perceptible movement of her shoulders irritated him.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s impressive?’

  ‘Oh, if it’s designed to impress,’ she said, delicately separating herself from the word as if it was contagious, ‘obviously it will be successful.’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  It had started snowing during the night and the blackness of the early morning was softly speckled with white. The sound of his horse’s hooves clanged on the High Street cobbles then faded into a muffled crunch as he passed through Cathedral Square. Gas lamps dwindled away as he left the town. Occasionally an isolated cottage blinked with candlelight. Then darkness completely enfolded both man and horse.

  Luther hunched into the fur collar of his coat and dreamed of the mansion that one day would be his. The pleasure in knowing that it would far excel Cameron House in size and grandeur penetrated to his very soul. His gratification was only spoiled by the fact that Cameron had not lived to witness its completion. Gunnet House he would call it. He savoured the name, saw the place in his mind’s eye, conjured it up in all its virility, animation and enthusiasm. No companion could have kept him better entertained or so successfully riveted his attention.

  He hardly noticed when the village of Springburn appeared with cottages huddling like ghosts on either side of the splashing stream. Many of the navvies had lodging in these cottages and also at the villages of Bishopbriggs and Auchinairn. The day shift would have started now. This fact was confirmed by the red glow illuminating the sky in the distance, and as he neared Bishopbriggs the fires and flares blazing in every direction reflected various groups of workmen in ruddy light. Yet he could detect no busy rattling of wagons or rhythmic clanking of hammers. Wrenching Gunnet House from his mind he became immediately alert. He spurred his horse into a gallop and, on reaching the first group of men, quickly dismounted and strode among them.

  ‘What the hell’s wrong here?’

  ‘It wasn’t any of us, sur,’ one of the men said. ‘Although there’s few of us who wouldn’t say he deserved a good batin’.’

  ‘Who’s “he”?’

  ‘Green, the English ganger.’

  Another man ventured, ‘Some of us worked under him in Chester, sur, and a worse bullying divil never was born, praise be to God.’

  ‘Where is he?’ Luther asked.

  ‘Ganger O’Hara took him on a cart to the hospital in Glasgow, sur.’

  Luther was about to ask if they were still there when O’Hara pushed his way to the front.

  ‘He’s dead, Mr Gunnet.’

  ‘Christ!’

  ‘They tried to keep me at the hospital while they sent for the police, could you believe it, sur, and me just trying to do my duty. I had to knock two of them unconscious before I got away.’

  Luther groaned. ‘You fucking fools, what did you have to kill him for? A lot of bloody good that’s going to do you. You’re not Scotland’s favourite folk at the best of times. And, by God, the authorities are really going to be after your blood for this one.’

  ‘He wouldn’t get off our backs, sur. A divil he was. Then he gets Doolan paid off. For no reason, sur, we swear it. Doolan’s a good navvy and like the rest of the gang niver a drop of liquor passed his lips. We’re all wearing Father Mathews’s teetotal medals, sur.’

  ‘All right. All right,’ Luther said. ‘But what happened? Was it Doolan who killed him?’

  The gang of navvies shuffled about in silence for a minute before one of them eventually said,

  ‘They just meant to give him a batin’ and teach him a lesson, sur.’

  ‘Who did?’

  ‘Doolan and two of his mates—Redding and Hickie. They set on Green as he was crossing the line.’ The man jerked a head towards the temporary wooden bridge.

  ‘Boozer Redding?’ Luther asked.

  ‘It’s said Doolan felled him with an iron weapon. But if that’s so then he was driven to it, sur, and niver meant to kill him. You know Doolan, sur. And we know Doolan. We’ve known him from Chester. He’s a good navvy.’

  ‘That’s not going to save him from the Glasgow magistrates. Where is he now?’

  Silence again.

  ‘Boozer and Hickie?’

  Still no reply.

  ‘They won’t get far. I’m surprised the police haven’t been here already.’

  O’Hara said, ‘Holy Mother of God, is this them now? Are they meaning to take the lot of us in?’

  From a watery grey horizon several large omnibuses, each drawn by four galloping horses, came careering towards them. N
o sooner had they reached the workings when out poured not only the sheriff substitute, the procurator fiscal, and a posse of police but a full company of the 58th Foot with pistols at the ready.

  As they began rounding up the men and pushing them into one of the vehicles Luther addressed the sheriff substitute.

  ‘The men you want aren’t here. These navvies had nothing to do with the crime.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt that’s what they told you, Mr Gunnet, but that doesn’t make it the truth.’

  ‘It does for me.’

  ‘Very loyal of you, Mr Gunnet. Very loyal. But the court’s the place to decide what’s true and what isn’t.’

  Afterwards Luther reckoned that twenty-eight men who worked in the neighbourhood of the bridge had been taken away. It was some time before he managed to reallocate the work and get the diggings back to as near normality as possible. On his return to the office he discovered that Billy had already heard the news.

  ‘Oh, God, Luther, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.’

  ‘Nonsense!’

  ‘I engaged that ganger.’

  ‘How were you to know?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have put an Englishman among so many Irish.’

  ‘This wasn’t a racial thing. Forget it, Billy. You’ve got to be able to take the rough with the smooth.’

  ‘How can I forget it? They’ve got twenty-eight of our navvies in the jail, including Ganger O’Hara.’

  ‘I’m going to have a word with the sheriff and the procurator fiscal.’

  The number in fact was whittled down to six detainees. The authorities offered £100 award for any information leading to the capture of Doolan but by Christmas neither Doolan, Boozer or Hickie had been found.

  He had told Augusta about Boozer and she had been shocked and concerned.

  ‘Has Maureen run off with him?’

  ‘No, she’s still at Auchinairn. Boozer didn’t want to put her in any danger, he said. But she believes he’s going to send for her when he finds a safe place. She’s convinced he had nothing to do with the killing. Although she says Green was a sadistic bastard and had been tormenting Boozer’s friend Doolan.’

  ‘Poor woman. She must be suffering dreadfully. Despite the very rough and insulting way she has of speaking to Boozer I’m sure she is very fond of him.’