Dragon Land (6 page)

Andy said that was true. ‘I just wish I could find a job, but what job could I do? Anything manual is out of the question and I have to take one day at a time.’

Mum cried out again, ‘I know Peter is alive, he is a survivor and he survived that bomb blast.’ Her face was red as she realised she was repeating herself, while I stood in shocked silence.

Andy was distressed and looked at Granny. ‘Well, maybe he did. Miracles do happen.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll get off now, but I did want to see you and tell you that your husband was a hero.’

Granny got his coat and stood at the door speaking to him before we heard the door close and the key being turned in the lock.

When she came back into the room, Mum and I were crying. Granny looked shocked but, gathering up her courage, she said perhaps we should all go to bed.

‘He’s not dead, Mary. I don’t believe it,’ said Mum. She looked pale and her eyes were rimmed red with her tears.

Granny said maybe things would look better in the morning.

I thought Mum was going to protest, but she let Granny gently lead her to our bedroom. She waited until she was in bed. I lay awake to the sound of the rain on the window and Mum’s crying.

After what seemed like hours, Mum eventually fell asleep while I was still awake. I could hear Granny moving about, so I quietly got up and went into the living room.

Granny was looking at a photo album, and she looked up in surprise when she saw me.

‘I couldn’t sleep, Granny,’ I said. ‘Do you think Daddy is dead?’

She didn’t answer my question but said, ‘I’m just looking at all the photos of your dad. Come and sit beside me and we’ll look at them together.’

I curled up on the sofa beside her and gazed at the photos all neatly arranged in the album. There was one of the swimming club, and I felt tears in my eyes when I saw how young Dad looked as he held up a silver trophy from a swimming contest. He stood looking so proud and I was able to see the droplets of water from his hair. Standing behind him were the other members. They were all smiling with pleasure and I was shocked to see a very youthful-looking Andy Baxter. He had the world at his feet and couldn’t have known what lay ahead of him. Nor could the rest of the team, Dad included. Now Andy was a broken young man with his terrible injuries and I felt so angry about this awful war.

‘I think it’s time for bed,’ said Granny, standing up and putting the album back in the sideboard drawer. She still hadn’t answered my question, but I went back to bed and lay awake for ages until tiredness took over.

I thought Granny was very courageous in her attitude to Andy’s story. However, I noticed a change in her behaviour when she got ready for church on the Sunday morning. She always wore a black hat, but every week she would pin either a small bunch of artificial cherries or a small posy of silk flowers close to the brim, but on that Sunday and every Sunday afterwards she wore the black hat unadorned.

I knew it was he r sign of mourning for a son, a husband and a father.

As the weeks went on, Mum went off to work looking like a ghost. She had always been slim, but now she had lost so much weight that her dress and coat hung from her slender shoulders. I knew Granny was worried about her, but after the fateful night of Andy Baxter’s visit, Mum seemed resigned to the fact that Dad wasn’t coming back from what the papers were calling ‘the war to end all wars’.

Then suddenly, a week before Christmas 1921, she perked up and announced she was going out on the Thursday night to meet up with Milly, her colleague. She spent some time getting ready and at seven thirty she went out. I saw her standing at the tram stop across the road from our close. She waved before climbing aboard and I went back to my book. I was rereading
Treasure Island
and was immersed in the adventures of the characters, wishing I could live a life like them.

Granny was sitting by the fire, engrossed in her knitting pattern. I could see from the cover that it was a jersey for a child and I suspected it was a Christmas present for me. The pattern looked quite complicated, with a rope-like cable climbing up the front of the jersey. I wasn’t enamoured with it, but I knew I would be expected to wear it.

Suddenly she stopped looking at it and said, ‘Lizzie, did your mum say where she was meeting Milly?’

I dragged my eyes away from an exciting part of my book. ‘I think she’s going to Milly’s house.’

Granny nodded. ‘Oh, I see.’

I was in bed when Mum returned and I heard her speaking to Granny before she came through to the bedroom. Her cheeks were pink with being out in the cold wind and she didn’t seem her usual self.

‘Are you awake, Lizzie?’

I sat up in bed. ‘Did you enjoy your visit to Milly?’

She didn’t look at me as she climbed into bed. ‘Yes, I did. We had a good blether.’

The next day brought some good news for her in the shape of a letter from Aunt Margaret. Gerald’s posting in Rio was over and they would be travelling to his new post at Easter. They were heading to Lisbon, in Portugal, and Margaret said she was coming to see us before joining her husband.

Mum was thrilled at the thought of seeing her and so was I.

It was Easter 1922 and Aunt Margaret was in the country. She was planning to visit us soon. Mum was so excited at the thought of seeing her after such a long time, and I was pleased to see that she seemed to be back to her usual self. Granny noticed this as well and she also looked pleased by the forthcoming visit.

I thought the time dragged by and I began to get impatient, but Mum warned me to behave. ‘You have to learn to be patient, Lizzie. You know what people say: Rome wasn’t built in a day.’

I was puzzled by her remark and wondered what Rome had to do with my aunt’s visit, but I wisely stayed silent and just nodded.

The weather was lovely and sunny but with a cool breeze and Mum couldn’t help saying, ‘I hope it gets warmer when she comes, as she will notice such a difference from South America.’

I would soon be moving to primary seven at school and I planned to tell my aunt all my news. Mum, however, warned me not to hog all the conversation when she arrived because she was going to spend an entire week with us. I felt it was like Christmas instead of the start of the Easter school holiday and I was ready to burst with suppressed excitement.

Mum was still visiting Milly on a regular basis, and one night Granny asked her as she put on her coat to leave, ‘Is Milly keeping well, Beth?’

Mum was just about to leave, but she stopped to look at Granny. ‘She’s fine, Mary, but obviously still heartbroken over the deaths in her family. Her mother has never recovered from the shock of hearing the terrible news and neither has Milly. They have a little shrine in their front room with the photos of both men and they mention it every time I visit.’

‘Don’t you find this upsetting, Beth?’ Granny seemed to be concerned about these visits.

‘Yes, I do, but I do my best to cheer them up.’ Mum glanced around the house to make sure she had her bag, scarf and gloves before giving me a quick kiss on my cheek as she went towards the door.

‘Can I come with you, Mum?’ I asked.

She shook her head. ‘It’s too late for you to be out, Lizzie.’

Granny looked thoughtful, but when she saw me staring at her, she smiled and said it was time for my cocoa, then bed. I wanted to ask her why she didn’t go with Mum; then I realised she had to stay at home to look after me.

Although I pretended to be asleep, I was always awake when Mum arrived home and I had noticed before her bright-eyed look, as if she had won some kind of victory, but I couldn’t figure out what victory Mum could have won.

The week before Aunt Margaret’s visit, however, she seemed distracted and pale when she arrived back, and I heard her suppressed sobs as she lay down in her bed.

I was alarmed. ‘What’s the matter, Mum?’

The crying stopped and she sat up. ‘Oh, I thought you were asleep, Lizzie.’ She searched for her hankie in the bedside-table drawer and wiped her face. ‘I’m just crying with pleasure at the thought of seeing Margaret again.’

After counting the days till our visitor arrived, a taxi drew up outside the close and Aunt Margaret stepped out onto the pavement and glanced up at the window where I had spent the past hour gazing out. She waved, and Mum and I went downstairs to meet her.

I was expecting her to have loads of luggage, but all she carried was a small suitcase. Mum ran to greet her, while I stayed in the background.

‘Margaret, it’s so good to see you.’ Mum was in tears as she spoke.

Margaret, in her usual practical fashion, said, ‘Let’s go upstairs, Beth.’ She turned to me and took my hand. ‘I hardly recognised you, Lizzie, you’ve grown so tall.’

I carried the suitcase upstairs and Granny was waiting at the door. Margaret laughed. ‘What a great welcoming party I’ve got. I feel like the prodigal daughter returning to the fatted calf.’ She gave Granny a big hug. ‘How are you keeping, Mary? It’s so good to see you all again.’

Granny and Mum had made a special meal for Aunt Margaret’s homecoming: mince and mashed potatoes followed by rhubarb crumble and custard. Margaret gave a small whoop of joy when she was told what was on the menu. ‘It’s been years since I had mince and tatties and rhubarb crumble and custard.’

Margaret put her suitcase in our bedroom and hung her coat on the hook on the back of the door. She was quite tall, with short grey hair and a weather-beaten complexion. She saw me looking at her and she laughed. ‘I’ve spent too many years living in a sunny climate, Lizzie.’

She wasn’t as pretty and petite as Mum, but she was better dressed, with a grey woollen skirt and a white, high-necked crêpe de Chine blouse. Her black boots had a row of tiny buttons up the side – I wondered how long it took her to fasten them up every morning.

Then Mum came in and looked at the suitcase. ‘Is the rest of your luggage arriving later, Margaret?’

‘No, Beth, this is all I’ve got with me, as I’ve booked into the Royal Hotel for a few days.’

Mum looked disappointed. ‘Oh, I thought you would be staying with us.’

Margaret put her arm around Mum’s shoulder. ‘I didn’t want to put Mary to a lot of trouble with my visit, but we’ll spend loads of time together.’

Then Granny called out that the dinner was ready and we all went through to the table by the window. Margaret enjoyed her meal, and afterwards when we were having a cup of tea she said, ‘I’d forgotten how good Scottish cooking is. I really enjoyed that.’

I was impatient to hear all the stories about some of the countries she had lived in, but I remembered Mum’s warning about me not bombarding her with my questions and childish chatter so I bided my time.

Later, when we were sitting around the fire, she produced three parcels from her case. ‘It’s just a small present for you all,’ she said as she handed them out. Both Mum’s and my parcels were small, while Granny’s was larger.

When we opened them, Mum and I were delighted with a golden bangle each, while Granny had a very soft purple stole, which she put around her shoulders with a cry of pleasure.

‘I’ve never felt anything so soft, Margaret,’ said Granny, while Mum and I put our bangles on our wrists, where they almost glowed with magnificence.

‘Your stole is made with alpaca wool, Mary; it’s made from the fleece of a llama. And the bangles are made from South American gold, Beth. I hope you like them.’

We assured her that we were delighted with our gifts. I was on the verge of asking my questions, but she said, ‘This visit is for two reasons, Beth: firstly I wanted to see you all, but I’m on a house-hunting quest as well.’

Mum said, ‘What about Gerald’s new posting?’

Margaret explained the situation. ‘Gerald and I hope to come back here to live after he retires. He doesn’t fancy going back to Edinburgh but wants a house by the sea. I’m hoping to find something suitable in Monifieth or Carnoustie.’

Mum was delighted by this news. ‘When will this be, Margaret?’

Margaret laughed. ‘Oh, not for a few years, but you know what he’s like, he wants to be prepared when the occasion happens.’ She picked up her bag and took out a brochure. ‘I’ve booked into this hotel in Carnoustie for next week and I wondered if you would all like to join me while I look at houses.’

I jumped up. ‘Can I come as well?’

She laughed. ‘Of course you can.’ She turned to Granny. ‘I would love it if you could come, Mary.’

Granny shook her head. ‘Thank you, Margaret, but it will be better if it’s just the three of you, as you don’t want a decrepit old body tagging along.’

I happened to glance at Mum and was dismayed to see a look of relief on her face. Thankfully, Granny didn’t see it.

Mum said she would try to get a holiday from her work and it was all settled that we would head off to Carnoustie at the end of the week. The hotel looked quite grand and I was almost squirming with excitement at the thought of being away on holiday.

At nine o’clock, Margaret said she would have to get back to her hotel in Union Street, and Mum said she would go with her to see her settled in. I wanted to go as well, but Granny said it was my bedtime, so I had no choice but to go to the bottom of the close with them and stand and watch as they both boarded a tramcar.

The night had turned colder and I was freezing by the time I got back upstairs. Granny was cross with me for my foolhardiness in standing on the pavement.

‘You’ll catch your death of cold and then you won’t be able to go to Carnoustie,’ she warned me.

Appalled by this warning, I made up my mind not to get a cold, but once I was in bed and tucked up in my flannelette sheets and cosy quilt I soon warmed up.

It was almost eleven o’clock when Mum arrived back. Granny was asleep and I could hear Mum humming a tune as she got ready for bed. I was so pleased to hear Mum singing. I couldn’t recall a time in the last five years when she had been this happy.

The plan was to leave for our holiday on Saturday evening after Mum had finished her work. Mum had been talking about nothing else since Margaret’s arrival. She was a changed woman, and as she sat down for her tea on the Friday night she chatted happily about the plans for the coming week.