The Girl with the Creel Read online

  Elsie shrugged. ‘Well, I wasna expecting it to be so short, but … ach, you couldna help it.’

  ‘The doctor said it was the strain o’ the coughing on top of all the excitement of the dancing.’

  Another five minutes passed before Peter said, ‘What happens now?’

  His mother sighed. ‘You’ll have to see the undertakers, but they’ll nae be open on Sunday, so you’ll have to go first thing on Monday.’

  ‘I’ll do that. Now, it’s still only after three, and we all need some sleep …’ He stopped, his cheeks colouring.

  She didn’t notice his confusion. ‘Take Elsie up to your room, the bed was all ready for you, any road, and I’ll just sit here.’

  Elsie jumped to her feet, but Peter said, ‘No, Mam, I can’t let you do that. You go to bed with Elsie and I’ll sit here.’

  To Elsie’s relief, Bella Jeannie shook her head. ‘No, no. I’ll be fine here. Away you go.’

  When the house was quiet and she was sure that the newlyweds were asleep, Bella Jeannie crept upstairs to take another look at her dead husband. ‘I was maybe wrong in what I thought about you, Bowfer,’ she whispered, stroking his brow, ‘but you’re away from temptation now, and I’m pleased you enjoyed the last hours you had in this world.’

  As she stepped back, she saw that his face had a peacefulness about it that hadn’t been there when he died … more than peace, really, almost a smile … or was that just her imagination?

  Chapter Twelve

  That same night, Lizann was lying in bed worrying about her father. He had been a changed man since the Hannah went down, three weeks before, though he had been lucky to get a berth on the Endeavour. She didn’t know if he was the same at sea, but he was moody and withdrawn at home … when he wasn’t raging her mother for being extravagant.

  ‘You ken fine we canna afford to eat meat like this,’ he had ranted a fortnight ago, when she served him a plate of boiled beef and carrots.

  ‘It was the cheapest Lizann could get,’ Hannah wailed, ‘and I got a big pot o’ soup out o’ it.’

  ‘A bone would have done for soup,’ he growled.

  ‘It was near closing time when I went to the butcher,’ Lizann had put in, ‘and he was selling off what he’d left at less than half price.’

  He was even worse now, she reflected. He hardly opened his mouth to any of them, his hair had turned white almost overnight and his face was greyer than ever. He had lost so much weight his clothes were hanging on him, and if he carried on like this he would make himself ill.

  George and Mick were both on the Dawn Rose, and after buying new gear, they had given what was left of their savings to Willie Alec to help him recompense the other crew members of the ill-fated Hannah. Lizann didn’t know how Jenny Cowie felt about it – she must have known why Mick had been saving – but she herself felt that there must be a jinx on her and George, that something would always happen to prevent them getting a house.

  Lizann’s mind returned to her father. The Endeavour had been late in landing, and when he came home he complained of pains in his chest and shoulders. ‘It’s the weather,’ he had moaned, as Hannah rubbed in some strong embrocation, working from his chin to his waist. ‘Driving rain, running down under the collar o’ my oilskins. It’s nae much wonder I’ve got rheumatics.’

  Lizann suspected that it was more than rheumatics – he had been at sea since he was thirteen and should be accustomed to soakings – but she had kept her fears to herself. It would have been better, however, if she had voiced them to her mother; it might have prepared Hannah for what was to come.

  On Sunday, Willie Alec hunched morosely in front of the fire all day. He had no appetite and took only a few cups of tea, but when Hannah said, after she and Lizann had eaten supper, that he should miss a trip to give his rheumatics a chance to get better, he growled, ‘You ken I canna afford to miss any trips.’

  Willie Alec went to bed early. When he appeared on Monday morning Lizann was alarmed at the blueness in the grey of his face and at how deep his eyes were sunk in his cheeks. He sat down at the table, waving away the plate Hannah set in front of him. ‘I couldna eat anything. The top o’ my stomach feels like there’s a lump o’ lead in it.’

  ‘It’ll be indigestion,’ she said, already on her way to get the baking soda out of the press. ‘Something you’ve ate on the boat hadna agreed wi’ you.’ She hadn’t even opened the poke of soda when he said, ‘Och, I’m going to be sick.’ His hand to his mouth, he scraped back his chair and hurried outside.

  ‘That’s the first time he’s ever been sick,’ Hannah observed in some concern, ‘in all the time I’ve ken’t him. I hope it’s nothing serious.’

  Lizann tried to allay her anxiety. ‘He’ll be all right when he’s got rid of whatever’s upset his stomach.’

  ‘Aye, I suppose so.’ Reassured, Hannah finished her porridge. Willie Alec had been a rock for her to lean on all their married life and she couldn’t imagine him letting her down by being ill.

  But Lizann did not feel easy, and when some ten minutes had elapsed, she said, ‘He’s a long time. Maybe I should go and see if he’s …’

  ‘I’ll go. He’ll not want you to see him spewing.’

  Hannah had only been gone for a second when a prolonged eerie scream made Lizann rush outside. She drew in a sharp breath when she saw her mother kneeling on the ground, still screaming, with her hand under Willie Alec’s head. He was lying absolutely motionless, and when Lizann put her finger on his pulse, there wasn’t even a hint of a beat. As she had suspected, the pains he had complained of hadn’t been rheumatism; they must have come from his heart.

  She stood paralysed for a moment, then knowing that she would have to do something, she tried to pull her mother to her feet, but Hannah clung on to her husband, refusing to believe that he was gone from her.

  To Lizann’s relief, Jake Berry from next door came out to see who was making such a din. He took in the situation at a glance. Hoisting Hannah up, he ordered Lizann to take her inside. ‘I’ll go and see if young Joe Rennie’s at hame,’ he went on. ‘He’ll help me to carry your father into the house, and then I’ll send him for the doctor. You’ll need him to gi’e you the death certificate.’

  ‘Thanks, Jake,’ she murmured as she led her mother away.

  Hannah sat down meekly, her eyes dull, her hands twitching, but when the two men took in her husband she started to scream again, reaching such a pitch that Lizann felt like screaming at her to stop. Willie Alec now in his own bed, Joe went to tell the doctor, but Jake, knowing that Lizann was being driven crazy by the noise her mother was making, went across to Hannah and, without a word, gave her a resounding slap on the side of her face.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to Lizann, ‘but it’s the only way to stop her.’

  ‘Aye,’ she nodded. She couldn’t have done it, but it had certainly been effective.

  ‘Will you be all right now?’ Jake asked. ‘Or will I send Babsie in?’

  ‘No, we’ll be fine.’ She didn’t want outsiders around her. She wished that George and Mick were at home, but the Dawn Rose had sailed early this morning and wouldn’t be back till Friday or Saturday. Then, like a welcome surge of heat in a chilled room, she remembered the only other person her mother would want to see, and turned to Jake again. ‘Would you go for my Auntie Lou?’

  ‘Aye, that’s a good idea, lass. Rannas Place, isn’t it?’

  When he left, Hannah whispered, ‘I aye thought I’d lose your father to the sea.’

  ‘You should be glad he was at home,’ Lizann said, gently, ‘not with other folk.’

  ‘He wasna wi’ onybody,’ Hannah gulped. ‘He was out at the door wi’ nae a soul near him. I should have been there for him.’

  ‘You weren’t to know.’

  Her mother sat thoughtfully for a while then burst out, ‘It’s all that George Buchan’s fault.’

  Deeply wounded, Lizann said, ‘How do you make that out?’

  �
�If Willie Alec hadna wanted to make him a skipper, he wouldna have bought that boat and landed in debt. It was worrying about paying the shipyard that killed him.’

  ‘That’s not fair, Mother. Father said he’d always wanted a boat of his own. You can’t blame George for that.’

  ‘Willie Alec wouldna have bought it if it hadna been for him,’ Hannah repeated stubbornly.

  Lizann stopped arguing. Her mother was still in shock; she’d never say wicked things like that once she came to herself.

  When Lou Flett came bustling in with Jockie – retired for four months now – at her heels, she said, ‘I couldna believe Jake Berry. “Nae Willie Alec?” I says, and he says, “Aye, Willie Alec. It must have been a heart attack.” So I shouted to Jockie, he was outside speaking.’

  After closing the curtains, she went to her sister. ‘I’d like a wee word wi’ Lizann in private, Hannah, but Jockie’ll bide wi’ you till we come through again.’ She beckoned to her niece to follow her into the tiny lobby. ‘Where’s your father lying?’ she whispered.

  ‘In his bed. There was nowhere else to put him.’

  ‘Aye, that’s what I thought. You’ll be taking your mother to sleep wi’ you the night, then?’

  ‘I think I’d better. There’s Mick’s bed, but I don’t like the idea of her being on her own. She’s in a terrible state.’

  ‘I could see that, though I dinna think it’s sunk right in yet.’

  ‘It has sunk in. She … blames George for it.’ Lizann swallowed, then relayed what Hannah had said.

  ‘Mercy on us!’ Lou exclaimed. ‘But Willie Alec’s been saving for years to get his own boat, though he didna tell Hannah. George was just an excuse. So dinna take it to heart, lass, for she hadna meant it.’

  They returned to the kitchen, where Jockie was standing uneasily at the fireside, his hands over his paunch, unable to think what to say to the bereaved woman. ‘Sit down, for ony sake,’ Lou ordered. ‘You’re just making the place look untidy.’ She turned to her sister now, her voice softening. ‘Jockie’ll see to things for you, Hannah, but he canna go till the doctor’s been.’

  As if he had been waiting outside for his cue, Dr Mathieson walked in. A small, rather stout man, he had attended Hannah at her difficult confinements, but he had never been called in for other members of the family. Living locally he knew them all, and any time he had spoken to Willie Alec in the street he had thought him forthright and sensible. After telling Hannah how much the whole community would feel the loss of such a fine man, he drew Lizann aside and asked her to describe the manner of her father’s death.

  The preliminaries over, Lou took charge and ushered him through to see the body. ‘It seems a straightforward coronary,’ he announced, in a few minutes. ‘All the signs were there, according to Lizann – the pain in the area of his chest, the blueness of the skin, the final sickness – and I doubt that I would have been able to avert it even if I had been called in yesterday. It’s a sad business.’

  ‘It is that,’ Lou agreed, ‘though I suppose you’re used to it.’

  ‘Unfortunately I meet with sudden death quite often, but I have never got used to it.’ He sighed deeply, then, remembering his duty, he opened his bag and took out a pad of blank forms. Scribbling something down, he handed it to Lou. ‘Whoever registers his death will need this.’

  His departure left Jockie free to carry out the errands his wife had volunteered for him, to the registrar and the undertaker, and when he went out, Lou at last had the chance to tell her sister what had been decided for her. ‘You’d best sleep wi’ Lizann till after the frunial.’

  Hannah regarded her in some surprise. ‘I’ll sleep in my own bed.’

  ‘You canna sleep wi’ a corpse, Hannah. Go wi’ Lizann and you’ll be a comfort to each other.’

  ‘I’m nae going wi’ her!’ Hannah declared loudly, saying the last word with some venom. ‘If she hadna taken that man here, my Willie Alec would still be alive.’

  ‘Ach, Hannah, you dinna ken what you’re saying.’

  ‘I ken fine what I’m saying, and I’ll sleep in the street before I’ll sleep wi’ her.’

  Glancing at Lizann, whose mouth was trembling in her chalk-white face, Lou raised her shoulders helplessly. ‘Would you go to Mick’s bed?’

  ‘Aye, Mick wouldna wish me ony ill.’

  Lizann could stand it no longer. ‘I never wished you ill, Mother, and neither did George. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t!’ Her throat tight with the injustice of the accusations, her eyes hot with unshed tears, she had to stop. If she carried on she would go into a fit of hysteria, as her mother had done earlier.

  Looking at her sympathetically, Lou murmured, ‘Go and change Mick’s bed for her, lass. I’ll sleep there wi’ her the night, Jockie’ll nae mind, and she’ll maybe have come to herself by the morn.’

  It was two hours before Jockie returned. ‘The undertaker canna come till the morrow,’ he said sadly. ‘They’ve other three bodies to see to, two up the town and one in Buckpool.’

  ‘I wonder who died in Buckpool?’ Lou said reflectively. ‘You’ll maybe ken them, Lizann.’

  Lizann shook her head. She didn’t care who else had died, whether she knew them or not. Her own sorrow was more than enough to cope with.

  At half past four, Jockie eyed his wife hopefully. ‘Ony chance o’ some supper? I’ve had nothing to eat since breakfast time.’

  ‘Either have we,’ she said indignantly – none of them having wanted a dinner, she hadn’t made anything – ‘but I suppose we’ll need something in our bellies to see us through all this.’

  Hannah and Lizann scarcely touched the cheese pudding she made, Lou herself took only half of what she put on her plate, but Jockie scraped his clean. ‘I was needing that,’ he observed, giving a loud belch. His wife glared at him, but rose to pour the tea without making any comment on his lack of manners.

  Even Lou felt the strain of sitting by the fire in the early evening with hardly a word being said, and it was only a quarter to eight when Jockie rose to his feet. ‘It’s time we went hame, Lou. You can come back the morrow if you want.’

  ‘I’m sleeping wi’ Hannah the night,’ she told him.

  Her sister, who had been looking vacantly into the fire for the past hour, looked up now. ‘I want to be by myself.’

  ‘I thought we agreed …’ Lou began.

  ‘No, you agreed,’ Hannah corrected her. ‘I’m going to Mick’s bed, and I’m not having anybody wi’ me.’

  Lou bridled but stood up. ‘I’ll get my coat and we’ll be off then.’

  When Lizann saw them out, her aunt said, ‘Try and get her to sleep wi’ you, for I wouldna put it past her to sneak in beside your father.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Lizann sighed, ‘but you heard what she said about me.’

  ‘Aye, well, but try just the same. And if she’ll nae go to your bed, you’d best lock her in Mick’s room.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t! She’d kick up a terrible fuss.’

  ‘It’s for her own good. God kens what it would do to her if she went into the same bed as the body. It could put her out o’ her mind.’

  Jockie giving her sleeve a tug, she said, ‘Aye, I’m coming, but mind what I said, Lizann, and try to get some sleep yourself, for you look like death warmed …’ Her gaffe made her clap her hand over her mouth, and turning away she hurried to catch up with her husband.

  Lizann went inside reluctantly. Her mother was almost out of her mind already, and crossing her could be dangerous. But surely, if she got her own way, whatever she decided on, she would settle down. ‘Do you want a cup of tea before we go to bed, Mother?’ she asked.

  Hannah kept her face averted. ‘I want nothing from you.’

  Fighting back an urge to shake her, Lizann said, ‘And you’re going to Mick’s bed?’

  ‘Aye, my son’s bed.’

  ‘All right, then, I’ll help you up the stair.’

  ‘Keep your hands off me!’ Hannah shouted.
‘I ken what you’re up to. When you get me to the top, you’ll shove me down so I’ll break my neck.’

  Shocked at this attack, Lizann watched her mother levering herself off her chair and making her unsteady way into the lobby, then, afraid that she would fall, she went upstairs behind her, but not too close in case she was accused of something else. When Hannah reached Mick’s room, she scurried in and slammed the door in Lizann’s face, leaving her shaking daughter sure that Lou had been right. In her present state of mind, her mother might easily sneak down to her own bed during the night. It would be safest to lock her in, whatever the consequences … but the key was still on the inside!

  Wishing that she had thought of removing it earlier, Lizann stood for a moment on the landing considering what to do. Should she chance going in for it? Her mother might go for her, though. It would be best to wait till she was asleep and wouldn’t hear. Locking the door of her own room as a precaution, Lizann lay on top of her bed, prepared to jump at the slightest squeak.

  Her mind went back to the morning, to her father … to the beloved man she would never see alive again, and the tears she had been forced to keep under control for her mother’s sake refused to be held back any longer. Even in her anguish, her thoughts ranged over the other events of the day, and the silence around her seemed to press in upon her, to magnify the horror of what her mother had said about her, about George.

  Giving way to her grief did help, so that gradually the heaviness of the silence eased and she relaxed. Then, hearing a creak as if someone had stood on a loose floorboard, she shot off the bed to stop her mother going downstairs. But when she unlocked her own door, Mick’s was still tightly shut and there was no sound from inside when she put her ear to the keyhole. It must have been the joists of the old house groaning, she thought, as they do in all old houses.

  Deciding that it should be safe now to get Mick’s key, she edged his door open, slid her hand round the corner and eased it out. She froze as the figure on the bed moved, but Hannah was only shifting position, and the breathy sighs she had been making in her sleep began again when she was settled. Letting her own breath out, Lizann inserted the key in the outside of the lock and turned it cautiously.