The Sunday Girls (34 page)

Mr Pringle had said the job would start in August but so far there had been no more word about Willie retiring. Deep down in my heart, I prayed that nothing would happen to change this plan. I was frightened to count Dad’s chickens.

‘Let’s go and see the house now, Ann.’ He looked at granny. ‘You come as well, Mum. Are Lily and Dad out somewhere?’

I nodded. ‘Aye, they’ve gone for a walk along the Esplanade.’

Dad nodded. ‘Och, well, they can see the house another day.’

We set off in happy spirits and, for the first time since Lily’s birth, Dad was full of plans. The house was one stair up and we all thought it was wonderful. It had three rooms and, although they weren’t large, they weren’t tiny either. They were a bit like Goldilocks’s third choice – just right. A lovely small bay window overlooked the street and the Shakespeare bar in particular. At this time of day, the bar was quiet but it would be busy at weekends. Still, I liked the sound of voices and the general hubbub of daily life on the streets.

Although I loved the Ferry, I could never get used to the silence and the sound of the wind and sea. We inspected the flat and the minuscule toilet which was situated on the stair. Another bonus was the postage-stamp-sized drying green that lay to the rear of the building.

‘You’ll need some Congoleum for the floor and curtains for the two windows. Luckily the wee room at the back has such a tiny window it’ll not need much material,’ said Granny.

For the first time, Dad looked downcast. ‘I should never have sold the furniture.’

Granny, desperate to keep his spirits up, suggested, ‘You can always take the wee bed out of Ann’s room at the Overgate and maybe Mr Bell will have some bargains in his shop. It’ll just be a matter of furnishing it slowly.’

He cheered up. ‘Aye, that’s true – one step at a time.’

‘What about Hattie?’ I said. ‘Does she not have anything spare we can borrow till we get settled and Dad gets his job?’

Dad looked mortified. ‘Over my dead body, Ann. That woman would torment the devil and still come off the winner. She would never let us forget her help.’

Granny chided him again, ‘Now, Johnny.’

This time he did look ashamed. ‘I know, I know. She does have her good points.’ He gave me a quick wink and muttered something under his breath which I didn’t catch.

Granny and I then measured the floors and windows before Dad locked up and we all trooped down the hill. Mr Bell’s Rake and Rummage shop was packed with furniture but the prices all seemed to be out of our range. Forever the optimist, Granny said, ‘Leave it for now, Johnny. Something always turns up.’

As it turned out, the Pringle family was that something. Maddie came round that night and she was as pleased as we were about our house. ‘My mother has loads of material in her sewing room that she never uses – maybe we can make curtains from it.’ She sounded excited.

I tried to protest but Danny’s appearance soon put a stop to our plans. ‘Hullo, girls,’ he said, ‘are you still coming to the pictures with me on Friday, Maddie?’ He had a twinkle in his eye when he said it.

Maddie beamed. ‘Of course I am.You can pick me up after your work.’

I looked at her, my face a picture of disbelief. Whatever happened, I thought, to her life of celibacy? A life without love and Danny and certainly without pleasures like going to the pictures?

I hadn’t seen Danny for over a fortnight so I was obviously out of touch with the news. I gave him my wide-eyed, innocent look – the look he always said was intimidating. I didn’t mention Minnie but I was wondering if he was still taking her to the pictures.

No doubt reading my thoughts, he squirmed slightly under my scrutiny. ‘I’m taking Maddie to the King’s,’ he said.

Maddie grabbed the measurements and said cheerio. ‘See you on Friday, Danny.’ On that cryptic note she was gone.

Danny looked amused. ‘Did Maddie not tell you that I’m not seeing Minnie now?’

I shook my head.

He said, ‘Minnie was just a school pal and we both felt that way. It was just a friendship for both of us. Anyway, she has her eye on another lad in the shop. When I realised I was never going to see Maddie again, well, I had to tell Minnie.’

‘Never see Maddie again?’ I was puzzled by this statement.

‘Aye, she stopped coming into the shop – completely stopped,’ he emphasised the words. ‘Then, when I asked her out to the pictures, she refused. After a few weeks, I was missing her so much I decided to tell her that Minnie had a new lad and she seemed pleased by this.’

‘Danny, your love life is so complicated,’ I said.

He blushed. The sight of his beetroot-red face reminded me of the old Danny I knew. ‘I’ve always been besotted by her,’ he confessed, ‘ever since I was a laddie but I thought she would want someone more prosperous and in a good job. I never thought I stood a chance and there was also the fact she was still at school. But she’s passed her exams and hopes to take up a nursing career soon.’

I knew all this as Maddie had been full of her exam success and I knew she was looking forward to joining the world of work. As Danny rattled on, I was struck again at the stupidity of the male population. Dad couldn’t understand Marlene and he understood Rosie even less and Danny didn’t think he stood a chance with Maddie – even after all her attempts to attract him, excite him and downright browbeat him. I was glad we both had good news.

Then, without warning, Maddie rushed in. She was clutching a large parcel and her face was red with exertion.

Granny was mystified. ‘What have you got it that huge parcel, Maddie?’

Maddie opened it and a small bale of flowery material spilled out on to the kitchen table. ‘My mother was going to put this out,’ she said, trying to look like she was speaking the truth. ‘She says we can make curtains with it.’

I didn’t believe her and I said so.

‘Honestly, she doesn’t want it. Maybe she wasn’t going to throw it out but she said she doesn’t need it and I’ve to give it to you, Ann.’

Granny intervened. ‘Ann and her dad can’t take this Maddie. Your family have been so good to us but we can’t keep on being a burden to your mum.’ She suddenly stopped and looked at the bulky parcel. ‘Don’t tell me you carried that heavy parcel all the way from the Perth Road?’

Maddie shook her head. ‘No, my father gave me a lift in the car. He’s on his way to the office.’

Granny looked at the clock. ‘At this time of night?’

Maddie nodded again. ‘My mother says she doesn’t need this material. It belonged to some old relation who left it and never picked it up again. It was in our attic. Also my father remembered the office floor got recovered a few years ago and some spare linoleum was put away in a stockroom. He thinks there might be enough to cover the floors of your new house.’

We all looked at her – my grandparents, Dad, Danny and me – and the only person oblivious to this grand gesture was Lily who was running around, making the sound of a train. Watching the trains cross the Tay Bridge was her favourite thing on her walks along the Esplanade.

Maddie went on. ‘My father will deliver the linoleum to the house but just if you want it.’

For the first time, Dad spoke up, ‘Well, Maddie, it’s really good of your parents to help us out again. We’ll take them but on one condition – when I start work at your uncle’s warehouse, your dad gets him to deduct a few shillings a week to pay for them. We can’t accept charity all the time.’

Maddie clapped her hands together. ‘Right then, Mr Neill, I’ll get him to do that.’ She turned to me. ‘We can make up the curtains next weekend, Ann, and you can put them up.’

On that note, it was all settled and Granny spoke for us all after Danny and Maddie departed. ‘What would we do without the Pringles? You should be thanking your sister for being there, Johnny, so no more miscalling her.’

Dad grinned. ‘Aye you’re right – another three cheers for Hattie.’ But he only said it after Danny had gone, I noticed.

The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of household chores. The curtains looked lovely when hung and the blue linoleum proved to be of a far better quality than we could ever have afforded. The fact that it was all to be paid in instalments meant we could enjoy it with feeling guilty. The rooms had an empty look due to the lack of furniture but we were prepared to furnish them slowly when the money became available.

As it turned out, it was Rosie who came to our aid. She turned up at the flat one Sunday afternoon. Dad looked pleased to see her and this fact delighted me. She seemed flustered to start with. ‘Hullo, Johnny. Now I know how you feel about the Salvation Army but I want you to listen to what I have to say.’ As this was all said without taking a breath, she stopped to regain her breath. I realised she was nervous. ‘We occasionally have to clear out houses if someone leaves them.’ I noticed she didn’t use the words ‘dead people’. ‘Well, some furniture has turned up and we were wondering if you would like some of it for the house.’ She lapsed into silence and gave Dad a nervous glance, no doubt expecting a withering reply.

To our astonishment, he gave her a big smile, making her face go red with pleasure. ‘That’s very good of you, Rosie. Of course we’ll take some of it. But only what we need and maybe someone else can benefit as well.’

Rosie glowed. ‘It’s in a shed at the moment but you can look at it any time you want.’

We decided that now was the best time so we made our way to this shed which was situated behind a tall tenement on the Hawkhill. We were expecting the things to be tatty but were pleasantly surprised to see they were in good condition. There was a double bed with a spotless, blue striped mattress, a table and four chairs, a dresser and a sideboard.

Rosie explained, ‘This belonged to Mrs Moncur – her husband was in the band before he died a few years ago. She originally came from a small hamlet in Angus and she inherited this furniture from her folks so it’s good quality. When I heard about your house, I thought you might be able to use this.’ She swept her hand over the shed’s contents.

Dad said, ‘As I told Maddie, we’ll only take it if we can pay for it.’

I was mentally tallying everything up. At this rate we would be paying for things forever. I wished we had some savings put aside but this was out of the question.

Rosie looked disappointed. ‘Oh, well, Johnny, you can’t have it. Mrs Moncur said in her will that it had to be given to a family with her blessing and that no money was to change hands.’

Dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. After a few moments, he said, ‘Right, we’ll take it, Rosie, and thank you very much.’

Rosie’s face glowed with pleasure once more and I let out a sigh of relief at such a wonderful windfall. We were truly blessed I thought – especially compared to all our neighbours who had so little. We didn’t have a lot either but things kept dropping in our laps – my job, this house and the furnishings and very soon, Dad’s job. Oh yes we were truly blessed.

I knew in my heart that things would be hard in the beginning but, as soon as Dad got his job, then things should look up. At the Ferry, Jean must have grown tired of hearing my happy chatter. Still, she never showed it and she was always happy for me. ‘I did say your star was rising, Ann.’

I nodded happily. ‘You must come and visit us in the new house when we get everything in place, Jean. Dad and Joe laid the linoleum first and I put up the curtains. Maddie did say the material wasn’t suitable for heavyweight curtains but they are so fresh and flowery and a lovely sunshiny yellow – just like a garden.’

Jean smiled. ‘What about the furniture? Have you got it delivered yet?’

The thought of that brought a smile to my face. Dad had suggested asking Mr Bell if we could maybe rent his little horse and cart but, on second thoughts, had rejected the idea. The late Mrs Moncur’s shed lay on a steep part of the Hawkhill and our house was, likewise, on a steep part of the Hilltown. The thought of the poor wee spindly-legged pony pulling a heavy load had filled me with horror. So, instead, we rented the coalman’s horse and cart.

The horse was large and furry-legged with a huge halter around its neck. His name was Henry and he was stabled in a small street off the Seagate. He looked so strong that I could well imagine him pulling a troupe of circus elephants. I said as much to Jean. ‘The coalman is charging us two shillings for a couple of hours and Dad has enlisted lots of helpers … Well, we’ve got Dad and Joe and Danny and me but, between the four of us, we’ll manage fine.’

The following weekend, we did manage it, albeit with a lot of sweat, muscle and huffing and puffing. Afterwards, the four of us stood in a small knot in the middle of the kitchen and I was so happy I could have cried. The small flat was clean, snug and homely.

Joe spoke for us all when he said, ‘I hope you all have years and years of happiness, health and prosperity in your wee house. You certainly deserve it, Johnny and Ann and Lily.’

I repeated this story over the following few days to Maddie and Jean.

One day, over our morning tea, Jean asked, ‘Any word of your father’s job yet, Ann?’

We were now in the middle of August and Dad was becoming a bit alarmed at not hearing anything. Also, we were becoming more financially stretched by the day. The plan had been to keep Lily with her grandparents all week and Dad and I would have her on my days off. This situation meant that most of my wages went to Granny every week while the remaining tiny sum went towards the rent. Dad paid the balance of rent and also the food and pennies for the gas meter. Later, come winter, we would also need coal for the fire.

I shook my head. ‘No, not yet – Maddie’s uncle did say it would be in August but here we are in the middle of the month and he’s heard nothing.’

As it turned out, at that precise moment, Dad was hearing about his job but the news wasn’t what we were expecting. I heard all about it on the Sunday afternoon.

Dad said, ‘The old man who’s due to retire wants to stay on for a wee while yet. He seemingly needs his wages.’ He stopped when he saw my face which was tight with anxiety. ‘Now, Ann, don’t get all upset because it’s not all bad news. John Pringle is a very fair man and, although he wants the job to go to me, he obviously doesn’t want to cause trouble for his old employee.’ He stopped again to wipe the perspiration from his face. It was one of those warm humid days that often appear in August and it seemed as if thunder wasn’t far away.