Dragon Land (13 page)

Mum and Granny were eager to hear how I got on, and I put on a bright expression and told them everything was going to be great. I mentioned Pat Hogan and Mum said what a blessing it was that I was able to come home every night, a sentiment I totally agreed with.

Over the next few weeks, Laura and I became very friendly with Pat and we spent a lot of our spare time together. Laura’s mother invited Pat to visit any time she felt lonely at the hostel and we had some good nights at the Hawkhill, with Irene playing popular songs on the piano, with the three of us singing along.

I invited Pat to come to Victoria Road, but I did warn her our house was much quieter than Laura’s. Once again I shouldn’t have worried about our lack of social skills because Laura brought her knitting with her and it turned out that Pat was a whiz at doing crochet. Granny thought they were two very nice girls.

I would sit in our living room as Granny, Laura and Pat were busy with their handicrafts while I felt like an alien who had accidentally landed in Smith and Horner’s wool department, and I felt that restlessness surge up inside me and I wished that the two-year course would soon be over, then I could look for something overseas, just as Margaret had suggested.

We also liked going to the pictures and secretly smoking a cigarette while watching the films that were now billed as ‘talkies’. Smoking was a habit that we never really took to, but at the time it made us feel grown up.

One night Laura said, ‘Do you remember when we used to be in love with Rudolph Valentino, Lizzie?’

I laughed. ‘He was very handsome when he played “The Sheik”.’ I turned to Pat. ‘We used to fall out over which one of us he would fall in love with. Do you remember that, Laura?’

‘Oh, I do. I used to dream of him and wished I could be in the desert with him.’

Pat, being a country girl from a farm, confessed she had never seen him, although she had read about how women adored him.

At the time I was so busy with my studies at the college and our outings that I didn’t notice Mum becoming more of a recluse. It was Granny who said one night that she should make an effort to go out more.

‘You’re a young woman, Beth. Why don’t you go out with Lizzie and her friends to the pictures?’

Mum looked horrified. ‘They won’t want me hanging around with them, Mary. No, I just like listening to the wireless and reading my library books.’

I felt so guilty about not noticing how much Mum had retreated into a self-imposed shell.

‘Why don’t you come to the pictures with me one night, Mum? It’ll be just the two of us, unless Granny wants to come as well.’ I looked over, but Granny shook her head. ‘We can look at the paper and see what films are on.’

Mum said she thought that was a good idea, so we made plans to see what film Mum fancied. That week we both went to the Plaza cinema on the Hilltown to see a Laurel and Hardy picture and we both laughed so loudly that Mum had tears in her eyes. When we arrived home, Granny seemed so pleased that she had enjoyed her night out.

‘You should make this a weekly thing, Beth, as it’s good to get out of the house for a change.’

Mum said she would think about it, but nothing came of it, so Granny and I just said that there was nothing else we could do about her. As a result, Mum sank back into her quiet life, listening to music and plays on the wireless, and reading her books.

I often looked at her when she was engrossed in her stories and I thought what a waste of life, because she was still a very pretty woman, with her light-brown hair, hazel eyes and a pale but clear complexion. I was quite sad about her, because I’m sure she would never have been like this if Dad had still been alive. It was as if her life had come to an end the day she got the telegram in 1917.

I wrote a letter to Margaret every week, giving her all the news from the college, and I looked forward to her replies. She said her husband would soon be retiring from his career and that they both looked forward to moving back to Scotland with a house by the sea. I knew that Mum would be a different person if Margaret stayed nearby.

It was coming up to December and the college was closing for the Christmas and New Year holiday from 13 December until 7 January. We were all looking forward to this break, although we wouldn’t see much of Pat, as she was going home to the farm in Kirriemuir.

She was quite wistful a few days before the break. ‘I’m going to miss all the fun and activity when I go home. There’s nothing but fields where I live, although we do manage to get to the town now and again.’

Laura said she was welcome to come and stay with her for a few days if she got bored, but Pat said her mother needed her to help in the big farmhouse, where she had a job as a cleaner.

‘My dad’s boss and his wife always have visitors over the festive season, so Mum has a lot of extra work to do. I’ve always helped out before, so it’ll be the same this year, I expect.’

Laura said to me later that we were lucky we didn’t have to fetch and carry for visitors and clean a big old farmhouse, and I agreed.

The weather had turned cold and wet, but there was no snow, so Pat managed to catch her train and we went to see her off.

‘Have a lovely Christmas,’ she said as she humped her suitcase into the half-empty carriage.

‘The same to you, Pat,’ we called in unison as the train puffed out of the station.

We wandered up into the High Street to look at the shop windows, then went into Woolworth’s store to look for presents. I didn’t know what I wanted so I said I would leave it until the following week and Laura agreed. We were full of plans for the holiday and I knew we would be spending time together in each other’s houses. Granny loved Christmas and she always decorated the house with paper chains and the festive ornaments she brought out from below her bed, like the fairies with gossamer wings and the elves with their green trousers and red hats. Then when New Year was over she would carefully wrap them in tissue paper and shove the box back under the bed.

Christmas Day was a normal working day for Mum, but she was planning on having a good rest at the New Year holiday, when the store closed for two days. The week before Christmas, Mum got a card from Milly with a letter. She told us about it at teatime.

‘Milly is getting married at the New Year to the son of the owner of the shop she works in. She wants me to be a witness at the quiet ceremony they’ve planned, but I don’t think I can manage it.’

Granny said, ‘That’s wonderful news, Beth, but I do think you should reconsider being with Milly on her big day.’

Mum turned the letter over in her hand before slipping it into her pocket. ‘It will be difficult to travel to Glasgow over the holiday, as I’m not sure about the trains.’

Granny picked up her knitting and she seemed immersed in the complicated pattern, but she said softly, ‘Well, think about it, Beth.’

I was disappointed, as I felt it would have done Mum the world of good to be among people and enjoy their company. Granny felt the same thing, but we both knew not to push Mum into something she didn’t want to do. It was a lesson we had learned over the years.

Laura and I were very busy during the next couple of days, as we were both in a quandary about buying gifts for our families.

‘I’ve got a book of Ivor Novello’s music for Mum, as she likes his songs, but I’ve no idea what to get for my dad. I could get him a new spirit level or a chisel, I suppose.’

I looked at her and she laughed.

‘I’m just joking.’

I said I was in the same boat. ‘I’ve seen a lovely brooch in Marshall’s jewellery shop, but it’s too expensive, and I haven’t a clue what to get for Mum.’

We were walking down the Wellgate at the time when I gave a sigh. ‘Why do we always give presents at Christmas anyway?’

Laura looked shocked. ‘It’s because of the gifts brought to the baby Jesus from the Three Wise Men.’

I laughed. ‘I know that. I’m not stupid when it comes to stories from the Bible, but that all happened thousands of years ago.’

Laura just gave me one of her famous looks that spoke more than a hundred words and we continued to gaze in the shop windows.

Later, when I got home, I saw Granny was excited about something.

‘What do you think, Lizzie?’ she said. ‘Your mother has changed her mind about being Milly’s witness and we will be going to Glasgow after Christmas. I’ve written to a guest house and booked two rooms for two nights.’

I said nothing but was perplexed about the ‘we’.

‘Oh, I forgot mention that I’m coming as well.’

‘When did Mum change her mind?’ I asked.

‘Just before she left for work this morning, but I went to see Maisie before you got up, and when I got back you had left to go and see Laura. Isn’t that good news?’

I said it was great news.

When Mum arrived home that night, I tackled her about her change of mind.

‘Well, I’ve been friends with Milly for years and I thought I had to be with her on her wedding day. Your granny wanted to come as well, so we’ve planned to stay for two nights, then be home in time to bring in the new year here.’

I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of money. ‘How much will it cost, Mum?’

‘Granny is paying for the rooms at the guest house and I’ll pay for the train tickets and the wedding present. I’ve bought a pair of Egyptian cotton sheets for the gift, as they were on offer at the store.’

I wasn’t sure about mentioning the cost of Christmas presents in the face of this new financial plan, but time was running out and I had to get my shopping done in the next few days.

‘I was going to buy Granny a lovely brooch I saw, but it’s too dear.’ I hesitated. ‘Do you think we can buy it together as a joint gift?’

Mum said that was a good idea, but added, ‘You’re not to spend money on anything for me, as I know you need all your money for your course at the college.’

On Christmas Eve we decorated the house with the usual paper chains that Granny kept in the wooden box under her bed and I bought a bunch of holly from the florist in Victoria Road. Later, I went round to Laura’s house to exchange our presents and we sang Christmas carols round the piano. Irene then produced a small bottle of port and we had some with lemonade, clinking our glasses together and wishing each other a merry Christmas.

It was a cold, misty night as I walked home. The streets were thronged with people, and small shops were still busy with customers. At that moment I experienced such a feeling of well-being and happiness that I almost stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t ever recall feeling like this and I almost cried.

When I got home, Mum and Granny were sitting with cups of hot cocoa and the firelight glimmered off the paper chains and the bunch of holly that was placed in a vase on the mantelpiece. After they went to bed, I took Dad’s photo out of my handbag and saw once again the droplets of water dripping from his dark hair. He looked so alive that it was hard to believe he was lying somewhere in France in an unmarked grave. ‘Happy Christmas, Dad, wherever you are,’ I said before going to bed.

The next morning Granny was overcome with her lovely brooch, and Mum and I laughed when she pinned it on her nightgown. Mum looked delighted at the two books I gave her. Granny gave me an angora jumper and Mum also chose books for me, while Laura’s present was a fountain pen. This was something I had been going on about during the time at the college, but I didn’t realise she had noticed. I hoped she liked the bracelet I had chosen for her and I smiled at the thought of the well-wrapped chisel her father might be opening at this very minute.

Later, Maisie Mulholland joined us for our evening meal, and she was pleased with her small present of three handkerchiefs with her initial on the corners.

On the Sunday morning Mum, Granny and I left for the train station to go to Glasgow. Mum had packed the wedding present and the suit she was going to wear, while Granny and I had our clothes in her suitcase. The train station was busy when we arrived, but the train was on time and we were pleased to get a carriage all to ourselves.

‘Milly said she would meet us at Glasgow,’ said Mum. ‘She said it’s to be a small wedding at the registry office and we’ll be going for a meal afterwards.’

‘Have you met Milly’s future husband, Beth?’

Mum shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t. I only know he’s the son of the owner of the shop where she works.’

I had a window seat and was quite content to sit and watch the wintry scene as the train swept through little villages and larger towns. There had been a fall of snow overnight, but it was just a slight sprinkling over the fields. Then before long we were going through the outskirts of Glasgow before finally coming to a stop at the large station that was bustling with people and trains.

Mum spotted Milly standing on the platform and she hurried along when she saw us. She gave Mum a big hug, saying how pleased she was that Mum had agreed to be with her on her big day.

‘I’ve booked a taxi to take you to the guest house, and after you get settled in I want you to come to the house for your dinner and to meet Albert and his father. Albert and I are going to stay with him after the wedding.’

Mum gave Granny one of her looks, but nothing was said until we were in the guest house, which was near Sauchiehall Street.

Mum looked worried. ‘Milly didn’t say anything in her letters about living with her father-in-law.’

Granny said it was probably a temporary arrangement until they could maybe get their own house.

At one o’clock, the taxi came back and we all piled in. We thought we would be going to one of the tenement houses that surrounded the guest house, but the driver drove out towards Kelvingrove before turning into a drive that led up to a large stone-built house with a veranda and a beautiful garden. At least it would be lovely come the spring and summer.

Milly was at the door and she looked radiant in a blue dress with long, wide sleeves that seemed to be in the height of fashion. Standing beside her was a man who looked about forty years old, of medium height, and with hair that was beginning to thin. However, he had a pleasant, smiling face and was also well dressed.