The Girl with the Creel (43 page)

An hour later, as she was taking some dishes out of the dresser, Elsie eyed the old woman coldly. ‘I'm putting you to your bed after your supper.'

Hannah's brows came down. ‘That's ower early for me to go to my bed.'

Tossing her bleached head, Elsie said, ‘I'll go to your bed, then, and you can bide in that chair all night.'

The familiar searching look came into Hannah's eyes. ‘You'd do it and all. You're a bad woman, I ken that!'

Elsie pretended she didn't hear this. ‘When you're settled, I'll nip home for some things, seeing I'll be biding here the night. Rosie Mac said she'd keep Pattie and Tommy for me.'

‘Pattie and Tommy?'

‘My two loons.' Elsie filled three plates with stew.

‘But Pattie and Tommy's my grandsons.'

Not wanting the quarrel just yet, Elsie kept her attention on spooning out the potatoes. After taking a tray up to Jenny, she came back to feed Hannah, who took one taste of the meat and screwed up her nose. ‘That's nae fit for pigs! I couldna eat that!'

‘Please yourself!' Elsie whipped away the plate and sat at the table to eat hers.

Hannah sat in a brooding silence – shaking her head at the semolina she was offered later – until the table was cleared and the kitchen was tidied again. ‘I'm nae going to my bed!' she declared then.

‘Aye are you!' Elsie heaved her up and half carried her to her room. ‘You can maybe get round Jenny, but nae me!' Dumping her on the bed, she undressed the frail body roughly and yanked the nightgown over her head.

‘I said you was bad,' Hannah quavered, ‘and now I can mind why!'

‘Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you!'

But Hannah's eyes were no longer wild or vague. ‘It was you that made Lizann run away, wasn't it? You said she'd been taking up wi' Peter, and you tell't her to keep away from him. But I ken she wasna fit to take up wi' onybody, she wasna that kind ony road, so that was a load of lies you made up.'

Elsie rammed the skinny arm into the old cardigan. ‘Supposing it was, what can you do about it? You'll never get Lizann back … and neither'll Peter.'

Hannah looked up at her balefully. ‘I'll tell Mick what you did.'

‘He'll nae believe you, everybody kens you're aff your head!' Yet, even as she lifted the other arm and twisted it roughly into the second sleeve, Elsie was doubting this. Mick must know that Hannah had short rational spells and, naturally, he would believe what his mother said rather than take an outsider's word … especially an outsider with an axe to grind. Knowing Mick, the first person he would tell would be Peter, and then … she'd be right in the shit! Peter would throw her out, without her bairns, and she couldn't go back to her parents. Her father would half-kill her for what she'd done. She'd likely end up on the streets, and though there were some men she wouldn't mind pleasuring, men who would treat her with respect, she had heard there were perverts who couldn't get satisfaction unless they were causing pain.

Her entire future at stake, she tried desperately to think of a way to avoid being found out, and as she looked down at the old woman who posed such a threat to her, a strange sense of excitement arose in her. The old bitch was so frail she couldn't live much longer, but being her, she might hang on just long enough to spill the beans before she popped off – the beans that would destroy Mrs Peter Tait. Yes, Elsie decided, Hannah had signed her own death warrant and there was no point in being squeamish.

Bending down, she lifted the grey head for a moment and gently removed one of the pillows. ‘That'll help you to get a nice long sleep,' she murmured, then, waiting until the faded eyes closed, she pressed it down over the nose and mouth, not relaxing until the feeble struggles stopped – in only a matter of seconds.

She stood up now, her breathing rapid and ragged, but it wasn't long before a cold smile stole across her face. Going upstairs, she went into Jenny's room. ‘That's her sleeping like a baby. Rosie's keeping my two, but I'll have to go hame for my nightie and things. I'll nae be long.'

Walking to Main Street, she had misgivings about what she had done. Bella Jeannie's death hadn't exactly been her fault, but Hannah's was … definitely. Would the doctor know she'd been smothered though her face wasn't blue? She hadn't put up a fight, for she'd been on the verge of dying anyway … hadn't she? She was better away! It would be a big relief to Jenny and all.

Having thus dismissed her fears, Elsie went to her neighbour's house to check on her sons before collecting what she needed from her own, and was back at the Yardie in less than twenty minutes. Undressing in front of the fire, she felt an irresistible urge to make sure everything was as it should be, and slipped through to the other room. Giving a shivery sigh of relief that nothing had changed, she jeered, ‘Aye, Hannah Jappy, you'll nae be telling Mick or naebody else what I did to your Lizann.'

Chapter Twenty-four

When Mick arrived home the following night – having moved hell and high water to be there in time for the birth of his child, and not knowing that he'd missed it by twenty-four hours – he was surprised to find Elsie Tait by the fire, tired and distressed. His first thought was for his wife. ‘Is anything wrong with Jenny?'

Elsie had passed a traumatic day, pacifying her patient and telling lies to the doctor, who, she had thought at first, seemed suspicious at Hannah dying so suddenly, so her voice was genuinely low and unsteady. ‘She'd a baby girl yesterday, and they're both fine, but … your mother … died some time last night.'

‘Oh, God!' His shocked face worked spasmodically, and he was obviously torn between which of the two women he loved to be more concerned about.

‘Go up and see Jenny,' Elsie murmured, ‘and I'll tell you about Hannah when you come back.'

Still in a fragile state, Jenny burst into tears as soon as she saw him, and holding her shaking body he said, ‘Don't upset yourself, my pet. Mother hasn't been herself for ages, and she's had her life. We're just starting ours. Now, let me see my daughter.'

Drawing aside the covers, he looked down at the tiny bundle in the cradle. ‘Oh, she's a wee darling, Jen. What'll we call her?'

Hastily drying her eyes, Jenny said softly, ‘I think we'll have to call her Lizann. That'll be a George and a Lizann together again, and she said herself that's what she'd wanted to do.'

Her husband's face showed his pleasure at her thoughtfulness. ‘Jenny, it's no wonder I love you.' His expression sobered. ‘I just wish to God I knew where she is, for she'd be pleased about this. Now, I suppose I'd better go and speak to Elsie.'

He had never liked Peter's wife, but he was inclined to feel sorry for her now. ‘You must have got an awful shock this morning,' he said, when he went downstairs.

‘I haven't got over it yet, though I should have expected it for your mother was in a terrible state yesterday. You see, Jenny couldn't manage to get up the stairs when Tibbie came, and Hannah wouldn't hear of them using her bed, so she saw everything.'

‘What d'you mean, she saw everything?'

‘Jenny had the baby on the couch, and Hannah was screaming things, and she fell on the floor, and I couldn't get her up …'

‘God Almighty!' Mick could visualize the scene, with his mother trying to get attention, her peace disrupted, and no one having time to bother with her. Taking out his handkerchief, he wiped his clammy brow. ‘I'm sorry you got the brunt of it, Elsie. I bet you'll never forget the day my wee Lizann was born.'

He was quite correct in this, and not only because of the circumstances of the birth. Her peculiar expression, however, was anger at learning his daughter's name, not, as he thought, agreement with what he had said. ‘Will I make you a cup of tea?' he asked sympathetically.

At her nod he put the kettle on to boil, then went into his mother's room. She looked so peaceful that he found it hard to believe she was dead, but he was glad that she had passed away in her sleep. She hadn't had much of a life since his father died, and it was a good thing she hadn't known about Lizann. That was one heartache she had been spared. Heaving a gusty sigh, he went back to the kitchen.

It was only when Elsie rose to wash the dirty cups that he remembered something. ‘Who's looking after Pattie and Tommy?'

‘Rosie Mac.'

‘Well, Peter got his leave changed at the last minute as well, so you'd better get home to him. I'm here to look after things, though I wish I'd been here … Oh, before you go, has anything been done about the funeral yet?'

‘No. Jake Berry said he would ask your uncle … Jockie?, but I thought you'd want to do it yourself. I'll be glad to get to my bed, Mick, for I'm fit to drop, but I'll be back in the morning to see how Jenny is.'

He stood up and, to his own surprise as well as hers, kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thanks for all you've done, Elsie.'

When she went out, he closed the front of the fire and went upstairs, where Jenny said, ‘I've been thinking, Mick. I didn't really take in what was happening yesterday, but I can mind Hannah going on at Elsie, accusing her of something, but she couldn't get it out. What could it have been?'

‘Nothing, likely. You know how muddled she was, and Elsie said all the commotion made her a lot worse.'

‘She got awful upset,' Jenny said, thoughtfully. ‘She was pointing at Elsie and shouting, “It was you!”, and when Tibbie told her to be quiet, she said, “Lizann's my lassie.” ‘

‘She was always thinking you were Lizann,' Mick said gently.

‘But Tibbie told her nobody had seen Lizann for months.'

‘Oh, no!' Mick groaned. ‘And I thought she went to her Maker without knowing that.'

‘That was when she fell trying to stand up, and Elsie couldn't lift her, and Tibbie said to leave her lying. Then after the baby was born she started saying “Lizann and Peter”, and Elsie screamed at her that she should be in an asylum.' Jenny looked at her husband pathetically. ‘She shouldn't have said things like that to a poor old woman.'

‘She'd've been all on edge.'

‘It's funny, though. Tibbie said she was as bad as Hannah, the noise she was making, and Elsie said, “How would you like it if she said your man was taking up with somebody else?” It was like she thought something had been going on between Lizann and Peter.'

Mick's face screwed up. ‘I know she was jealous when Peter went to see Lizann after George was lost …' He stopped, recalling how he had found his sister in Peter's arms that morning, then shook his head vehemently. ‘No, no! There was nothing going on, I'm sure of that.'

Nonetheless, he couldn't help wondering as he got into bed if Elsie had been right. Had Lizann been carrying on with Peter? Had she run away because she felt guilty about him being unfaithful to his wife? It was a more reasonable explanation than Jenny's remark, and he knew Peter had always loved Lizann, but still … No, he couldn't believe it.

He was almost asleep when he thought of a different angle. Had Elsie in her jealousy gone to Lizann and accused her of having an affair with Peter? It couldn't have been true, but his sister wasn't strong enough at the time to cope with anything like that … she would have wanted to get away from it. That was why she'd left Buckie! It must be! She'd had nobody to confide in, with Mother stuck in the house, and Jenny and Lou both too busy to visit her. The agony she must have gone through!

His peace totally ruined, he decided to confront Elsie in the morning … then he remembered how much she had done for Jenny. He was grateful to her for that, and with no proof of what he thought it would be best to say nothing. Anyway, he was probably wrong.

*   *   *

When Peter arrived home he was astonished that nobody was in the house, and sat down at the fireside to wait for his family's return. Noticing that the fire hadn't been lit, he presumed that Elsie had taken the boys to visit their grandparents. She hadn't been expecting him home for at least another month, of course.

After ten minutes, he felt quite chilly, and contemplated lighting the fire in the parlour so that it would be warm when he went through to the couch. Then, realizing that it was just after seven o'clock and it could be two or three hours before Elsie came back, a better idea came to him. Why shouldn't he have a lie down upstairs? He would shift out when Elsie was getting the boys to bed.

Just taking off his blouse and trousers, he stretched out on the big double bed, absolute heaven after the hard bunk he was used to … when he had the chance to go to it. Still feeling cold, he shifted himself until he was under the blankets, and then he heard a key in the outside door. Propping himself up on one elbow ready to call to his sons when they came upstairs, he frowned when only Elsie appeared. ‘Where the hell have you been?' he asked angrily. ‘And where's the boys?'

‘They're with Rosie,' she sighed, opening the waistband of her skirt with trembling fingers, for she was too tired to quarrel with him. ‘I've been at the Yardie. Jenny had her baby yesterday, and Hannah's dead, and I just got away because Mick's home, so don't start going on at me.'

His mouth had dropped open, but she looked so worn out that he felt a warmth for her in his pity. ‘I'm sorry.' Watching her undressing, he said, ‘How did Hannah die?'

‘The stir must have been too much for her. She got in an awful state, and I'd a job getting her to her bed. But she was sound asleep when I left her, so I near passed out when I found her dead this morning.'

‘She died in her sleep? Oh well, it's the best way to go.'

‘I suppose so.' Elsie unfastened her brassiere and took it off, but not with the usual flourish and lifting of her breasts, which, if she had but known, had disgusted rather than titillated her husband since the night of Lou Flett's funeral.