The Girl with the Creel Page 14

  ‘Aye, cheerio.’

  If Mick only knew, Peter thought, as he carried on to his own house.

  Lizann was awake in the morning almost ten minutes before George opened his bleary eyes. ‘You’ve come round, have you?’ she asked, with just a hint of sarcasm.

  ‘Oh, God!’ he groaned, his hands going to his head. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Nearly eight o’clock.’

  ‘In the morning?’

  She couldn’t help laughing at him now. ‘Aye, in the morning.’

  ‘But … how did I get … was I drunk?’

  ‘Paralytic!’

  ‘Oh, Lizann. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘But … our wedding night … and I …?’

  ‘I hope you’ve learned your lesson.’

  ‘I’ll never drink again, I swear. It’s like a traction engine’s going full blast inside my skull.’

  ‘Poor George.’ She stroked his brow and his arm came round her.

  ‘Lizann, my darling …’ he said thickly.

  ‘We haven’t time for that. We should be up.’

  ‘But we haven’t …’

  ‘There’s always tonight.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, watching her get up, but the sight of her in her nightdress sent the blood pounding through his veins. ‘Come back to bed … please, my darling.’

  She steeled herself to withstand his entreaty. ‘No, my mother’ll have the breakfast ready in a minute, and you’ll have to rise and all.’

  He got out at her side of the bed and grabbed her round the waist. ‘Give me a kiss, then.’

  The kiss would probably have had the desired effect if Mick had not knocked at the door. ‘Come on you two lovebirds,’ he called. ‘You can’t lie there all day.’

  Lizann jumped away from her husband. ‘I told you. We’d better hurry.’

  When they went into the kitchen, Hannah fixed George with a glare of disapproval. ‘You were in a fine state last night.’

  ‘Ach now, Hannah,’ Willie Alec said, ‘you ken fine it was my fault.’

  ‘He didna need to drink what you gi’ed him.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Jappy,’ George put in. ‘It’ll never happen again.’

  ‘I hope no’.’

  Sighing, Lizann said, ‘I’d like for us to be kirked this morning.’

  Her father beamed. ‘Aye, it would make you feel right married.’

  She wouldn’t feel that until the marriage had been consummated, but it was the custom for manse ceremonies to be blessed in the church and she didn’t want to flout convention. She turned to her brother. ‘Will you and Jenny come with us?’ That, too, was part of the custom.

  He nodded. ‘She was saying last night we’d likely have to go.’

  Breakfast over, he went to collect Jenny, and the four of them walked to church together.

  Left alone with his wife, Willie Alec looked reprovingly at her. ‘You could have been a bit friendlier to George, Hannah.’

  ‘And him that drunk last night Lizann had to help him up the stair?’

  ‘Ach, surely you could excuse him that once.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you as drunk as that. You were aye able to walk, even on our own wedding night.’

  ‘I was able to do a lot more than walk,’ he chuckled.

  Blushing at the memory of what he had done that night, she muttered, ‘I’ll never take to him. I canna forget he’s had a wife already.’

  ‘Ach, woman! There’s nothing wrong wi’ that. He’s a good man, and you should be glad he got free, for if he hadna, Lizann would maybe’ve left us and went to bide in sin wi’ him.’

  ‘Oh, I hardly think that.’

  ‘Hannah, it’s time you broadened your ideas a bit. He’s Lizann’s man now, our son-in-law, and I for one welcome him into my family. In fact, I’m going to buy a boat and take him on a skipper.’

  Her chin dropped. ‘Can you afford to buy a boat?’

  ‘That’s why I couldna give them a big wedding. I’ve got enough to put down, and I could pay the rest bit by bit.’

  ‘You’d buy it on tick?’ She was even more appalled by this.

  ‘It’s not buying on tick, it’s what everybody does nowadays, so stop your arguing.’

  Hannah closed her mouth, but she was now harbouring another grievance against George, for Willie Alec would never have dreamt of buying a boat if it hadn’t been for him.

  George wanted to take Lizann to their room in the afternoon, but he knew that, although Willie Alec and Mick might just make a coarse remark, Hannah would be utterly disgusted that he couldn’t wait, so it was after ten before they went upstairs.

  In the act of slackening his tie, George suddenly said, ‘That’s a real bonnie picture you’ve got, Lizann.’

  She was pleased that he was admiring her most treasured possession; it was good that they liked the same kind of things. ‘It’s my mother.’

  Scarcely able to credit that staid, disapproving Hannah had ever gone round with a creel on her back, he hid his astonishment. ‘It’s really good … lifelike.’

  ‘Father got a man he knew to do it, but don’t say anything to Mother. She doesn’t like being reminded she once sold fish at folk’s doors.’

  He could well believe that. ‘I’ll not say a word, though it’s nothing to be ashamed of.’ Hauling off the tie, he looked at his wife again and was struck anew by her beauty, her appearance of innocence. He had made love to her before, yet he couldn’t banish the feeling that he was on the brink of defiling her. Desire suddenly raged through him, and he turned his back to take off his trousers, so that she wouldn’t see how rampant he had grown.

  ‘George,’ she whispered, ‘you don’t need to be shy with me.’

  Turning round, he wished that he could make a picture of her in her filmy nightdress. She held out her arms to him, and without being aware of crossing the few feet between them, he was holding her loveliness against him and the warmth of her body was driving him frantic. Unable to speak, he lifted her and took her over to the bed, panting as he laid her down.

  ‘You’ve made yourself breathless lifting me,’ she chided him.

  He couldn’t tell her that it wasn’t lifting her that was making him breathless, for he couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  When morning came, their marriage had been well and truly consummated, and George had to drag himself away from his wife. He had to leave at the same time as Mick and Willie Alec – he couldn’t afford a honeymoon – and the door had barely closed behind them when Hannah muttered, ‘You’ll be thinking there’s nae another man in the whole world like him?’

  Determined not to be needled, Lizann smiled. ‘There isn’t.’

  ‘That’ll nae last long,’ Hannah said, grimly.

  Why did her mother have to spoil things? Lizann thought angrily. Her marriage had lasted, so why wouldn’t her daughter’s?

  Chapter Nine

  Willie Alec had ordered the drifter against his wife’s wishes, and by the time the Hannah was fitted out he was as excited as a small boy with a new, expensive toy. ‘It’s nae worth me sitting for a skipper’s ticket at my age,’ he had added, noticing his son-in-law’s hesitation at the offer of the job, ‘and you’re nae getting the good o’yours. You’re family now, and Mick and you’ll get a share of the nets.’

  That had been the deciding factor for George. It wasn’t as good as having a boat of his own, but the Hannah was much grander than his Mary Ann had been. He did sometimes feel guilty that Willie Alec had put himself in debt to give him a job, as Hannah was fond of reminding him when her husband wasn’t within earshot, but it was the man’s own business and he’d sworn it was something he had dreamt about for years.

  The extra money was very welcome, for George was saving every penny he could to buy furniture for the house he hoped to rent. He was grateful to Willie Alec for letting them live at the Yardie, but he had to get away from Hannah’s constant carping. When she was
alone with him, she kept going on about folk saying Lizann had wed a second-hand man, and though they’d only been married for three months, it was getting under his skin. Much more of it and he’d be at her throat.

  By July, George had had enough, and after only two months of being a skipper he knew he’d have to make a move. ‘I think we could chance it,’ he told Lizann.

  ‘Chance what?’

  ‘Looking for a house. If we got two rooms, we wouldn’t need to buy so much furniture, though it would likely clean us right out.’

  Lizann looked at him doubtfully. ‘What’s the rush, George? Are you not happy here?’

  He didn’t like to tell her that her mother had the knack of making him feel like an interloper without saying a word, as if he were only there on sufferance. ‘I’d be a lot happier if I had you to myself every time I came home. The only time we can speak properly here is when we come to bed, and you’re aye so scared your folk’ll hear us you hardly let me …’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ she murmured, nestling against him.

  ‘Willie Alec wouldn’t think anything about it … or Mick.’

  ‘Maybe no’, but you know what my mother’s like.’

  ‘Aye,’ he sighed, grimly, ‘that’s why I want to get away. Oh, Lizann, darling, I want us to be free to do what we want, make as much love as we want … in an afternoon if we feel like it.’ He slipped her nightdress straps from her shoulders to cup her breasts.

  Giving a soft moan, she whispered, ‘That’s what I want and all.’

  He let his hands glide slowly down and down, but even his passionate kisses couldn’t make her forget her fear of being overheard.

  ‘Go on, Peter,’ Elsie urged. ‘What are you waiting for? Better days?’

  Having sampled the delights of her body many times since his first fumbling attempt, Peter grinned at her haste. He liked teasing her, for the leading up to it gave him nearly as big a thrill as the act itself, but there came a point …

  When it was over, Elsie lay back with her hands behind her head, her peroxided hair fanning out on the grass. ‘That was great, Peter,’ she said, languidly.

  This gave his ego a tremendous boost, but he had been wondering for weeks if it was time to tell her it was over. His original reason for going out with her had backfired. She lived too far from the Yardie for Lizann ever to see them together and be jealous, and it would be better if he found a girl in Buckpool. ‘Erm, Elsie,’ he began, nervously, ‘maybe we should stop seeing so much of each other …’

  Her baby blue eyes clouded. ‘Are you tired o’ me?’

  ‘No, it’s not that. It’s … well …’

  Sitting up, she snapped, ‘It doesna matter if you are, ony road. It’s too late.’

  ‘Too late?’ he asked, perplexed.

  ‘You didna think you could carry on like that for months and get away wi’ it, did you?’

  Fear gripped him now. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying you’ve put me up the spout.’

  ‘Up the …? You’re not … expecting?’

  ‘Aye, I’m two month gone.’

  His stomach heaved sickeningly. ‘Two months?’ he gasped, drawing in deep gulps of air.

  ‘It must’ve been you night we’d been to Cathy’s and we stopped on the road hame. I can mind thinking – that’s it! He’s done it this time.’

  In a rush of shame, he recalled how the unaccustomed drink he had consumed in her friend’s house that night had driven him wild with lust for her, and he had got her out as quickly as he could. At the first suitable spot he had pushed her to the ground and taken her forcefully, insistently – and, it seemed, fruitfully. ‘God!’ he groaned. ‘Do your folk know?’

  ‘Nae yet, but they’ll see for themselves in a wee while.’

  So this was it, Peter thought, self-pity flooding through him. He should have known – nothing ever worked out the way he wanted. Instead of getting Lizann back, he’d landed this … this fast, painted piece in the family way, and there was nothing for it but to marry her. ‘I’ll come home with you and speak to your father.’

  ‘You’d better nae say there’s a bairn on the road,’ Elsie warned, ‘or he’ll go for you. When it’s born, we can say it’s come early, and he’ll never ken.’

  This did nothing to relieve Peter’s worry. Even if they could fool her father, her mother would know the reason for the hasty marriage. Women could always tell when a girl was expecting, or so his mother said.

  Only twenty-five minutes later, Peter was making his thoughtful way to his own house, wondering why Nell and Chae Slater had been so ready to agree to a wedding? Did they know the kind of girl their daughter was? Were they glad to get her off their hands? It had looked very much like it to him, and he’d felt like lapping up the whisky Chae had produced, but thank heaven he’d only taken one dram. He had still to tell his own mother and he would need all his wits about him for that.

  He had half hoped that she would be in bed, but she was still sitting by the fire when he went in. ‘Mary Kate died the night,’ she told him, mournfully.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ He really was sorry, for Mary Kate had given him sweets and cakes when he was a boy, and had fed him when his mother was laid low with a terrible flu one winter.

  ‘It was awful sudden, for I was in seeing her yesterday and she was just the same as she aye was.’

  ‘You’ll miss her,’ Peter observed, for the two women had been friends for years.

  ‘I will that.’ Bella Jeannie wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘But when the grim reaper comes, nobody can do nothing about it.’

  Peter wondered if he should wait until morning to tell her his news, but it wasn’t anything that could wait. ‘I’ve something to tell you and all, Mam,’ he said, looking everywhere but directly at her.

  ‘What’s that?’ she sniffed.

  ‘I’ve been going with a girl from up the town for a while, and …’ he hesitated, then ended in a rush, ‘… we’re getting married.’

  ‘Married?’ Mary Kate’s death was brushed aside in Bella Jeannie’s shock at this. Losing her only son to some ill-brought-up lassie was far worse than losing her friend. One hand clutching at her huge bosom, she demanded, ‘Who is she? I dinna even ken her name.’

  ‘Her name’s Elsie Slater, and …’ Peter stopped. He had been about to say she would like the girl, but he knew perfectly well she wouldn’t, so he said instead, ‘… and she works in Pozzi’s.’

  ‘A shop lassie?’ Bella Jeannie sounded happier. ‘Oh, well, she’ll have good manners, for they’re trained to be polite to folk. You’ll be taking her here to bide?’

  ‘We haven’t discussed it yet.’ The thought of Elsie and his mother in the same house was not a pleasant one, and he could foresee the ructions there would be.

  ‘Invite her for her supper on Saturday, so I can meet her.’

  Knowing that they’d have to meet some time, he said, ‘I’ll ask her.’

  Peter’s remorse at what he had done in order to get Lizann back kept him from sleeping, and as the night wore on he was hit by apprehension at how his mother would react to Elsie – and vice versa – plus the dread of what people would say when the baby was born just six months after the wedding. No, not people, just his mother; his father wouldn’t give two hoots, he was an easy-going man, and it was nobody else’s business.

  The winds were fierce for October, Hannah reflected, as she set the table, her thoughts turning to Willie Alec and Mick. ‘Did you hear if there was gales at sea when you were out?’ she asked Lizann.

  ‘I met Auntie Lou in the post office and she said she listened to the trawlers on the wireless last night, and one of the skippers said it was hurricane force gales where he was.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Hannah wrung her hands in her distress. ‘I couldna make out what they were saying for all the crackling. I hope it’s nae in the same place as your father.’

  ‘I hope no’!’ Lizann could not reassure her
mother because she herself was worrying about George. If anything happened to the Hannah she’d lose not only her father and her brother, but her husband as well.

  The two women said little while they had their meal, and sat silently by the fire in the afternoon and evening, but each knew that the other was praying for their men at sea.

  At nine o’clock, Hannah switched on the wireless and tuned it to the trawler waveband. At first atmospherics distorted the intermittent snatches of voices, then four words came through as clear as a bell: ‘… the Hannah’s gone down …’

  ‘Oh, my dear Lord!’ Hannah exclaimed, looking at her daughter in deep anguish. ‘I ken’t it. I’ve had a funny feeling the whole day.’

  Torn between mourning along with her mother and telling her not to worry, Lizann plumped for the latter. ‘Maybe it didn’t mean … maybe it was too rough for them to get to Buckie, and they’ve had to go down to the Broch or Peterhead.’

  Her mother eyed her doubtfully. ‘I suppose it could be that.’

  ‘It must be that!’

  Neither of them went to bed that Saturday night, and the teapot was filled, emptied and refilled a dozen times as they huddled over the fire with aching hearts. Lizann was slightly more optimistic than Hannah, but when it occurred to her that her mother must have endured many ordeals similar to this – if not quite so bad – in the thirty years she had been married, she wondered if she herself would have to go through it again or if George was lost to her already. Her little gulp made Hannah look up.

  ‘Aye, m’quine,’ she said, gently, ‘it’s hard on the wives.’

  In North Pringle Street, Elsie Slater went to bed in a temper. Her visit to Buckpool had been a disaster. She had thought Peter’s mother would make her welcome, but the fat lump hadn’t liked her and hadn’t tried to hide it. Peter had been on heckle pins all the time, and if she’d had any sense she’d have walked out. But she wanted Peter. Not that she had to marry him, for she wasn’t expecting at all, but he was the best catch she’d ever get. She quite fancied being a draughtsman’s wife and she didn’t want him to get away.

  When he was seeing her home he’d said his mother would be the same to any girl he took into the house, and she could well believe that. She’d seen that the woman thought the sun shone out of his backside, so she wouldn’t think anybody was good enough for him. His father hadn’t been so bad; a wee pasty-faced man with a boozer’s red-nose, he’d eyed her like she was a side of beef he wanted to buy, but she was accustomed to men looking at her like that. He’d hardly got the chance to say a word and he’d likely have been a lot happier sitting in a pub. Well, maybe he didn’t mind being henpecked, but his wife wouldn’t have it all her own way when Elsie Slater moved in as Mrs Tait Junior. And when Peter found out she’d tricked him into marrying her, she would easily get round him.