Towards a Dark Horizon (7 page)

‘Please, please, Ann, can we go?’

I had little choice in the face of such eagerness so we set off for the bus. I was actually quite relieved to get away from the house and my worries for a few hours.

Jean and I had met up on a few occasions since my departure from Whitegate Lodge but most of these meetings had been in the Broughty Ferry in a small teashop on the High Street. She still lived with her husband in Long Lane and I knew that her inheritance from Mrs Barrie had made their lives comfortable – something we had in common.

The street was almost deserted when we got off the bus and I was once again reminded how quiet this place was compared to Dundee – except maybe during the summer months when people were attracted to the beach and the water. Today, in spite of some watery sunshine, the wind blew cold and straight from the North Sea.

Lily was full of excitement as we stood on her doorstep. She was as fond of Jean as I was. She was a good friend to me and had been my ally against Miss Hood in my days at Whitegate Lodge.

Jean opened the door, her hands covered in flour. ‘Well, I never! I was just thinking about you, Lily.’ Pleasure was written all over her face. Being childless herself she always spoiled any child in her company.

Lily hopped from one foot to another, desperate to be asked in but remembering her manners which I had warned her to do earlier.

Jean knew this and she teased Lily by making her stand outside. Doing a good imitation of Granny, Lily put her hands on her hips and said, ‘Can I come in, please?’

Jean roared with laughter and I was suddenly grateful for this joyous sound. It had been days since I had heard anyone laugh or even seen someone smile. We had been all wrapped up in Danny’s private gloom. She ushered us into her small living room. The flames from the blazing fire were reflected in the old-fashioned but highly polished furniture.

Lily went to help with the tea. Jean called out from the tiny scullery. ‘You know where the biscuit barrel is, my wee pet.’

Lily set the table with such a serious look that I almost burst out laughing. As I didn’t want to hurt her feelings I managed to control this urge.

There was no sign of Mr Peters. ‘He’s out,’ said Jean. ‘Gone to do a job for one of our neighbours.’ She put the teapot down beside the fire. ‘He’s more or less retired now but he still likes to keep his hand in and do the odd job now and again. My legacy from Mrs Barrie has made our lives more comfortable.’

She placed a large plate of floury scones in front of Lily. ‘Well, wee lass, eat up.’

Lily needed no second bidding and she proclaimed after scoffing her third scone and jam, ‘I aye feel hungry when I’m at the Ferry. Granny says it’s the sea air.’ She sounded so comical that we both burst out laughing.

She was certainly growing up fast these days and, thankfully, she was healthy and sturdy. I thought of Maddie’s sister Joy and the differences in their appearance. Although both born on the same day, when they were together, Lily towered over the fragile-looking Joy.

After tea Jean suggested a walk to the beach. Lily had her coat on in a flash and we set out. The watery sun had disappeared and was replaced with a cold greyness. The sea and sky seemed to merge on the horizon and the beach was deserted. The sand, left shiny wet by the receding tide, stretched before us in a pristine panorama and was unmarked by any human feet. Abandoned by the receding seawater, a brown strip of seaweed lay like a tide-mark of lost, drowned souls.

Thankfully I couldn’t see Whitegate Lodge from this vantage point. As if reading my mind, Jean said, ‘I never go near the house now that Mrs Barrie’s dead.’

Tears came into my eyes when I recalled my late employer. It had been in the month of January when I started work as a housemaid at Whitegate Lodge and it had been my first sight of Miss Hood. I wondered if all my troubles were destined to happen in January.

Jean squeezed my arm. ‘Is everything going well for you now, Ann?’

I thought of Maddie and Danny and, although I didn’t mean to mention them, it all came out. However, I kept quiet about Pat’s wartime experience. I knew Danny wouldn’t want his father’s name bandied about or for the whole sorry story to become public knowledge. I just told Jean that he was upset after Dad Ryan’s death.

Jean listened quietly as we watched Lily run over the expanse of wet sand. She said softly, ‘Well, Ann, I hope they manage to sort it all out but you mustn’t let it worry you. They have to make their own decisions and mistakes.’

‘But Danny was aye there for me, Jean,’ I protested. ‘You mind how much he helped me when Lily was a baby.’

‘That’s what I mean, Ann – you were just a bairn yourself then and you had your baby sister to look after and support but that was a good few years ago and you are both older now. He must make up his own mind, either rightly or wrongly, and Maddie must do the same.’

She was right of course. I looked at her, my eyes glassy with tears.

She continued, ‘You’ve carried enough on your young shoulders, Ann – your sister and your dad plus the sad death of your mum. Maybe it’s become a way of life for you to take on all your family’s burdens.’

I looked at Lily. She was trying to outrun a seagull. Her face registering dismay as it flew into the air with a noisy squawk.

‘I would advise you to let go and just enjoy yourself,’ said Jean. ‘Your sister is growing up, your father may marry Rosie, Danny may or may not marry Maddie but these things are out of your control, lass. Take Jean’s advice and let go.’

I still said nothing as I watched Lily run over the sand with the sheer exuberance of being alive.

She went on, ‘What about Greg? No doubt you’ll want to settle down one day with him.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Then you’ll know what real worries are like when you’re an old married woman.’

‘Greg is still in Glasgow and anyway we are just friends. I could never leave Lily and go off into the far blue yonder. You know that, Jean.’

She shook her head sadly. ‘What a pity! At your age, you should be out enjoying yourself and not worrying over everybody – especially not Danny or Maddie. Now promise me, Ann.’

‘I promise,’ I said but I didn’t believe I could keep such a promise.

Lily ran up to us. Her shoes plastered with wet sand and her cheeks red with the chafing wind. Her eyes were full of laughter.

‘Och, me, would you look at yourself?’ said Jean, throwing up her hands in mock horror. ‘Let’s get back for our tea.’

Lily led the way with an excitement that made me wonder if my sister’s life revolved around food.

As we walked back I asked Jean about Miss Hood.

‘As far as I know, she’s still in the mental hospital but, of course, I haven’t been to visit her.’ She stopped and looked at me keenly. ‘Now promise me you’ll not go back and see her – after all, she did try and kill you.’

I shook my head. ‘No, Jean, I’ll not go back. It’s just that I feel so sorry for her but I know I’m being stupid.’ I didn’t add that I still had nightmares about the housekeeper. Although I sympathised with her sorry life, I still recalled the heavy candlestick in her hand and the noise it had made when it missed my head and hit the wooden banister at Whitegate Lodge. ‘No, Jean, don’t worry – I won’t see her again.’

‘Mrs Barrie left us both our legacies so we could have some comfort in our lives so please do what she would have wanted you to do and that’s to enjoy yourself.’

Dear, dear Mrs Barrie, I thought, as tears came into my eyes.

After a lovely tea, we said our goodbyes to Jean and my heart felt lighter. Her advice was sound and I fully intended to stop worrying about Danny but, back home in the Hilltown, all my good intentions flew out the window.

Maddie was waiting for me in the house. Dad and Rosie sat beside her but the atmosphere was heavy. As if conversation had been difficult. On seeing me, Dad and Rosie both jumped up. It was as if they were both being worked by identical strings.

They took Lily’s hand. ‘Let’s go and see Granny,’ they said, almost in unison.

Lily looked delighted. She was certainly having a busy Sunday.

When they disappeared through the door, Maddie burst into tears. ‘Danny has called off the engagement but he won’t tell me why. Do you know?’

I took her hands in mine. ‘No, Maddie, I can’t help you. It has to come from Danny.’

She looked at me with bewilderment. ‘Then you do know why?’

‘No, Maddie. All I can say is that he’s taken Dad Ryan’s death very badly but just give him time on his own.’ I felt terrible. On the one hand, I wanted to tell her the whole sorry story because she had a right to know but, on the other, I knew I couldn’t betray Danny. He would never forgive me and I couldn’t live with that.

Maddie wiped her eyes. ‘I offered to give him back the ring but he didn’t want it.’

For some reason this cheered me up. ‘Well, then, Maddie, the engagement is not really broken, is it? Cheer up – it’ll all work out. Believe me.’

‘Do you think so, Ann?’

How could I tell her I wasn’t a hundred per cent or even ten per cent sure? But I couldn’t let her leave without a bit of hope.

We walked back to the infirmary together and I left her at the porter’s window. As she walked away down the long corridor, she turned and waved – a golden vision in the drab painted corridor.

I was suddenly so angry. ‘Blast you, Danny Ryan!’ I said aloud. ‘You’re going to lose her to somebody else and it’s your own fault.’

The porter stuck his head out of the window. ‘Did you say something, Miss?’

Still angry, I said, ‘No, I’m just talking to a brick wall.’

My heart wasn’t in my job next morning when Amy, Edith and Sylvia came tumbling in. They were roaring with laughter and my mood immediately picked up and even Connie was amused.

‘What’s causing all this hilarity?’ I asked them as I weighed out Edith’s sweeties and gave the other two their cigarettes.

Sylvia piped up. ‘We’re just drawing lots to see who’ll write to the dishy King Edward and offer him her hand in marriage.’ They collapsed into peals of laughter.

Connie said, ‘Oh, he’ll have somebody in his sights if I know men. They aye do, the cunning beggars.’

The girls set off for work and, once again, I could hear their laughter as they hurried off down the hill.

Amidst the pomp and ceremony of a state funeral that contrasted starkly with Dad Ryan’s, King George V, ruler of Great Britain and the Empire, was laid to rest the following day. It did cross my mind that maybe the royal household also had skeletons in their closet but I quickly dismissed the idea. It had been a long week.

The German army was on the march again. Dad’s friend Joe arrived at the house, waving a newspaper. ‘German troops march into the Rhineland in defiance of the treaties of Versailles and Locarno.’

Dad had just finished his meal and was sitting with a cup of tea beside the fire. He looked at his old friend. ‘Aye, I’ve seen it, Joe, but I don’t think they’ll start anything this time – not after the carnage of the last war.’

Joe wasn’t so sure. He said gloomily, ‘I disagree with you, Johnny, and what makes it worse is that nobody seems to be able to stop them. You mark my words – if they get off with this, then it’ll be the turn of some other country next year. You know what this lot are capable of.’

I left them talking about this possible new war. As far as I was concerned, I was too busy worrying about the uneasy peace that had settled on us since January.

I took Lily’s hand and we set off for the Overgate. When we arrived, it was clear that Granny hadn’t heard about this new aggression from Germany as she was too busy with Bella.

‘I’m telling you, Bella, that there’s nothing wrong with Hattie or Danny.’

Bella was having none of this whitewash – or ‘twaddle’ as she called it. ‘Well, tell me this then, Nan. Why have they broken off their engagement? I mean one minute they’re both hunky-dory and then the next they’re not speaking.’

Granny made a dismissive noise.

Bella went on. ‘Aye and there’s Hattie – she’s going around with a face like thunder, looking like she’s lost a half a crown and found a tanner.’

Granny knew she couldn’t escape from this cross-examination. ‘Danny and Maddie have decided to wait a wee while before they get married and Hattie is not pleased with it.’ Her voice was firm. ‘And, as far as I’m concerned, the matter’s closed.’

Bella didn’t look convinced and I didn’t blame her. As far as excuses went, it was pretty flimsy but this was the story that Hattie had invented.

‘It’s nobody’s business but ours,’ was her general statement after she had recovered from that terribly traumatic night when the doctor was called out.

It was then decided, after her return to work, that, if anyone asked, this was the answer to give. In fact, we couldn’t do much else when faced with Hattie’s firm refusal to let the Pringles know the truth. Both Granny and I had tried to reason with her but to no avail.

‘What will the Pringles think?’ she had said at the time.

‘I would just tell them the truth, Hattie, but, if you don’t want to do that, then at least tell Maddie and she can decide if she wants them to know. Then take things from there.’ Granny had tried to be tactful but it had all fallen on deaf ears so that was the story we all stuck to.

Thankfully, as far as Hattie was concerned, Maddie had said very little except to say the engagement was off for the time being. So we all settled into this uneasy calm. I didn’t see much of Danny and even less of Maddie and, in a way, I was grateful because I didn’t know what to say to them. I was also grateful to be kept busy at the shop and looking after Lily and the house.

Joe became a regular visitor. ‘I’m telling you, Johnny, that this Hitler guy is a dangerous wee dictator.’ He also kept referring to the last war and telling Dad about a possible new one as if Dad could do anything to stop it – as if he could wave some magic wand.

During these visits, I normally left the two men to their cigarettes and blethers. Connie had said I could visit her at her house if I ever wanted to get away from Joe’s doom and gloom. She knew him well. Her house was in Stirling Street, in a nice block of tenement houses. It was much more posh than ours but it wasn’t better kept. The square-shaped living room held so much furniture that reaching the fireside was like tackling an obstacle course.