Fortunes of the Heart (22 page)

“No, I had you do a special clean on Monday and Wednesday so
that we could have this little party today. Before you go, I have some cake and
shortbread wrapped for you to take with you.”

Kate was overwhelmed by Mrs Scott’s kindness. She had felt
that the pair of them had got on very well together, more of a feeling of one
friend helping out another than the mistress servant relationship she knew only
too well, but she had not expected this.

At her usual time to go Kate put on her coat and hat then
collected the parcel Mrs Scott had ready for her. As she turned to leave, Mrs
Scott handed her a crown, twice her usual weekly pay of two shillings and
sixpence.

“I can’t take this, it’s too much,” Kate protested, trying
to thrust the money back into Mrs Scott’s hand.

“Nonsense, girl. It’s only money and what else do I have to
spend it on? I’ve never stopped blessing the day when I was nearly run over by
that tram car. Take it and welcome. Merry Christmas.”

Chapter 10

Dazed, Kate left Mrs Scott’s home, but instead of heading
straight for home she turned and walked in the direction of the book barrows.
These handcarts, a Glasgow institution in their own right, were to be found
throughout the city, sited on many a busy street corner, when they were not
actually being trundled through the dense traffic.

Today one book barrow, just off Hope Street, caught her
attention and she stopped to browse through the selection of second hand books
on display. She had taken Dr Clancy’s advice to heart and taken up a hobby,
reading, and found she could lose herself and forget the trials of her busy life
immersed in the pages of a book. First she had read the books that Daniel
brought home from the library, but had come across the book barrows and found
the books there were affordable and, better still, some of the owners would let
her exchange books she had read for a different book. Some charged a small fee
for this, some didn’t, and Kate enjoyed the haggling involved.

Today as she rummaged through the books on the barrow she
was aware of the owner watching her for some time before he stepped forward.

“Are you looking for something in particular’?” he asked in
a soft Irish brogue very like Kate’s own.

“No, just something to read.”

He laughed. “I think you may find something here. As you
see, I don’t sell fruit or vegetables.”

Kate smiled, more at his accent than at the feeble joke.
“Aye, that I can. I’ll just look for myself, thank you.”

“They’re arranged more or less by subject.” He came and
stood beside her. “To the left of this cardboard up to the end of the barrow
you’ll find text books and non-fiction. Between the two cardboards is all
fiction, and in the last three rows you’ll find poetry.”

“I don’t think any of the other barrows do that,” Kate said.
“It’s very helpful.”

He laughed again. “And good for trade. Students from the
Uni
know just where to look for used texts without wasting
time going over my whole barrow.” He turned to face Kate. “You have a lovely
accent, mistress. Have you been in Glasgow long?”

Somehow it seemed quite natural to talk to this complete
stranger and Kate replied: “Since 1877.”

“And have you never been back to the Old Country since?”

“No, never.”

“I go back every now and then to buy books and visit my old
mother.”

He shook himself as if suddenly aware they were drifting
away from business.

“Just take your time then, Mistress ...”

“Kinnon, Kathleen Kinnon,” Kate said, without pausing to
think.

“Terence O’Neil, at your service, Kathleen
Mavourneen
.” Kate left Terence’s barrow with two books and
a feeling that she would be back soon.

Over time, Kate became something of a regular customer.
Terence, in addition to a fine stock of second-, third-, and sixtieth-hand
books, also had a grand line in Irish banter–definitely one who’d kissed the
Blarney Stone. Each time he saw her approach, his laughing Irish eyes would
sparkle and he’d call out: “Why, if ’tis not Kate
Mavourneen
herself. And ’tis Terence O’Neil here, entirely at your service, Ma’am.”

No matter the day, the time, or the weather, the genial
greeting never changed. And somehow, the panache, the cheeky grin with which he
so obligingly offered his services, always left Kate with the feeling there
might well be other commodities on offer apart from the more mundane books. No
matter what her family problems, Kate always felt the better for a chat, no
matter how brief, with Terence.

After the first few visits, Kate took to bringing with her a
few fresh baked scones and they would stand by Terence’s barrow discussing the
books Kate had read. Terence introduced her to the pleasures of poetry –
something Pearce had never attempted although in their early days she had often
asked him what he found so enthralling in his books of verse.

Chapter 11

The morning of Monday, March 20th , 1893, started off like
any other day for Kate, and she set off reasonably contentedly for Mrs Scott’s.
There she and Mrs Scott chatted as Kate went about her work, then, as usual
now, they sat and gossiped over a cup of tea before Kate left.

I’m really lucky, Kate thought. Things are working out
pretty well. Mrs Delaney seems to keep Pearce happy and quiet, and even though
she can be a nuisance, her money is regular. Jenny is doing well at school and
Pearce has agreed she can stay on and maybe even become a teacher. Danny seems
happy enough with Mr McGregor, even if he’d like a job with a bit more money.
And I’ve got a good job and a good friend with Mrs Scott.

Kate surfaced from her daydream and looking round her,
realised she wasn’t on her way home. She was headed towards the book barrows.

Well, why not? It’s a fine day. I don’t need to rush back to
make a lunch for Mrs Delaney; she said she would be out till time for her
afternoon tea and there’s plenty of bread and cheese in the house. Pearce can
fend for himself for once.

Terence saw her approach and met her with his usual effusive
greeting. They stood side-by-side at his barrow animatedly discussing a book
Terence had recommended to her.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said from the other side of
the barrow, “I asked how much this book would be.”

Kate looked up and there across the barrow was Mrs Delaney
staring at her.

Terence took the book and named his price.

Mrs Delaney paid without quibble.

“My landlady, Mrs Kinnon, can take it home for me to save me
carrying it about town. Don’t let Pearce see it. It’s a surprise for him. Put
it in my room.”

She turned and walked off without a backward glance.

“Now there’s a polite one,” Terence said. “Not as much as a,
‘Nice day,’ or `How’d you do,’ to you, and you her landlady.” He glanced at the
book. “And I don’t think much of her choice of poetry either. Here, Kathleen, I
hope her husband enjoys it.”

Kate didn’t correct his misconception. The day was spoiled.
She said her goodbyes and left for home.

She entered the house to the sound of raised voices.
Hurriedly, she hung up her coat and hat and walked into the kitchen.

Pearce and Daniel stood facing each other on either side of
the table.

“I will not make your damned tea,” Daniel shouted. “What did
your last slave die of?”

“Don’t you use that language to me. You are my son –”

“Then treat me like one. Mr McGregor’s more like a father to
me than you’ve ever been.”

Kate stepped forward.

“Sit down both of you. You’re quarrelling like children over
who’s to make the tea? I’ll make it.”

“Who cut off his legs?” Daniel said. “You’re out working all
day, every day, while he sits here on his backside ordering everyone about – “

“That’s enough out of you,” Pearce shouted. “You’re not too
old yet for a thrashing–”

They were both on their feet again and Pearce stepped to one
side. Kate moved to step between them and Pearce with an oath pushed her. She
stumbled, her foot caught on the rug, and she fell heavily. Ignoring her,
Pearce advanced on Daniel, slackening his heavy leather belt as he did so.

“Not again, Dadda, never again,” Daniel said, and taking advantage
of the fact that both his father’s hands were engaged, landed one heavy blow on
Pearce’s midriff, followed by a right uppercut to his jaw.

Pearce fell and, before he could rise, Daniel looked down at
him.

“If you’re wondering where I learnt to do that, I had a
fight near every day at school just because I was the son of the Laird o’
Candleriggs
.”

Daniel turned and walked out of the house.

Kate struggled to her feet. She put out a hand to Pearce to
help him up, but he ignored her and stood by himself.

“If that boy ever sets foot in this house again, I’ll thrash
him within an inch of his life.”

“Don’t talk daft, Pearce. Don’t you see he’s way past that.
He’s not a wee boy to stand still for a leathering. He’s nearly your height.
He’d fight back.”

For answer Pearce kicked Kate’s basket across the room. It
tipped over and Mrs Delaney’s book fell out. Pearce pounced on it.

“More rubbish from your damned book barrows?” He glanced
inside. “Aye, rubbish it is. Can’t you even recognise bad poetry when you see
it? Here, take your damned book.”

He threw it across the room at her and turned around to see
who she was staring at.

Mrs Delaney stood framed in the kitchen doorway.

“Mistress Kinnon, your ruffian son almost knocked me down on
the stairs. I’ll not put up with it. I’ll have my afternoon tea now, if you
please. Pearce, would you care to join me?”

With Pearce and Mrs Delaney ensconced in the front room with
their afternoon tea, Kate took the opportunity to go to Mr McGregor’s shop. As
she suspected, Daniel was there.

“Are you all right, Mammy? I’m sorry, but he was after me
all afternoon, the tea was the last straw.”

Mr McGregor appeared at the counter.

“Mrs Kinnon, come away into the back shop and have a seat.
Danny, put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea –”

He looked puzzled when both Kate and Daniel burst out
laughing, and Kate hurried to tell him of the afternoon’s event.

“Danny can stay with us for a spell, Mrs Kinnon, if that
will help.”

“We wouldn’t want to put you out,” Kate said.

“Nothing grand, we have a wee truckle bed that he can sleep
on in the hallway of the house or we can bring it down here for him to sleep on
in the back shop.”

“Thank you, Mr McGregor. I’ll bring your stuff down to the
shop for you, Danny. I don’t think you should be up there for a while.

Chapter 12

Over the next few weeks calm reigned in the Kinnon house.
Daniel’s name was mentioned only once, when Jenny asked where he was,
fortunately out of Pearce’s hearing. Mrs Delaney made no mention of the book of
poetry she had bought, or of seeing Kate at the book barrow.

Kate dropped in to the newsagent’s shop from time to time to
chat to Daniel and on one occasion Mr McGregor made a point of sending Daniel
out on an errand.

“I don’t want to interfere, Mrs Kinnon, but Daniel knows I
know some of the sailors that ship out of here and that I could probably get
him a place as a ship’s boy ...”

“Has he asked you to get him a ship?”

“Well ... not in so many words ... yet ... but I don’t think
it will be long before he leaves us. He wants some adventure – more than
running a wee newsagent’s–and he wants to earn some more money.”

“Then he’d be better placed by someone you know than
chancing his luck by himself, wouldn’t he?”

“I hope so. Then, if he asks, I should talk to my friends?”

Kate sat silent, thinking for a spell.

“If he’s as close to just going as you think, Mr McGregor,
maybe you should broach the subject yourself. I’ll be sad to see him go, but I
think there’s no stopping him now.”

Two weeks later Kate was not surprised when Daniel told her
he would be shipping out as a ship’s boy the next day.

“But if your ship’s registered here, you’ll be back from
time to time, right?”

“No, Mammy, the company sails out of Liverpool. The ship
only called in here with cargo of tobacco. It’s not her regular run. Their
ship’s boy broke his leg. That’s why they’ve got a spot for me.”

Pearce shrugged when told the news, then after a long
silence told Kate and Jenny to sit down.

“With Daniel gone, one source of income for the family is
gone – “

“Pearce, he didn’t bring in very much,” Kate objected,
fearing what was coming.

“Never the less,” Pearce continued, ignoring Kate, “it means
less income. Jenny will leave school and seek employment at the mill. They’re
always looking for girls there.”

“But, Dadda, you said I could stay at school and maybe
become a teacher,” Jenny said.

“I’ve changed my mind, and there’s an end to it. It’s
foolish to give a girl an education. Years without income to the family and
then they’re off to get married.”

Despite Jenny’s tears and Kate pleadings, Pearce’s mind was
made up and he would not be moved.

So Jenny, at fourteen, much against her will, left school
and went to work at the local mill. Kate came to an arrangement with Mr
McGregor to take over some of Daniel’s jobs in the newsagents, dropping her
stair cleaning activities, but keeping her job with Mrs Scott. It wasn’t quite
as convenient to Mr McGregor since Kate’s times had to be fitted round feeding
Mrs Delaney and Pearce, and her mornings with Mrs Scott.