Double Danger (6 page)

‘I suppose I could, right enough. But it won’t matter, will it? I mean the preacher will still marry me?’

‘Of course, you daftie. Why shouldn’t he?’

‘I must write to Brian right away.’

‘Well, for goodness sake, send it airmail this time.’

‘OK. OK.’

‘And another thing, Jessie. You’d definitely be better and safer staying here with me until after the birth. What if you went into labour on your own in the flat and I was away out here in Vale of Lennox? And you know and like Dr Plockton here and he knows you and your condition. He’d be the best person to deliver your babies.’

Jessica thought for a minute or two. ‘I suppose you’re right. But are you sure that would be all right with you? It seems an awful imposition.’

‘Don’t be daft. Aren’t you the only family I’ve got here now?’

Jessica gave her a hug and a kiss. ‘Oh, thank you so much. I know how you must miss your own family and I really appreciate all you do for me.’

‘I keep having to remind you of all that you do for me. How could I run the stall without you? And by the way, it’s time you did as much knitting for it as I do. All right?’

‘OK.’ Jessica grinned. ‘It’s a deal.’

Much as she still loved the flat and the Calton, she felt glad to be in Vale of Lennox now and safe in Mrs Mellors’ cottage and so near to Dr Plockton. Also, if necessary, it was good to know that the hospital annexe was not too far away at the end of Blair Street. Blair Street ran parallel to Abercromby Street.

The plan nearly went terribly wrong, however. Jessica went into labour just as they were about to leave the stall and drive back to Vale of Lennox.

‘Come on, it’s just begun,’ Mrs Mellors said. ‘We’ll get back to the cottage in plenty of time.’

‘Oh, are you sure?’ Jessica was nursing her bulge, her eyes strained with anxiety.

‘Yes, come on. Let me help you up into the van.’

With some heaving and difficulty, Mrs Mellors got Jessica on to the van seat and then hurried round to her driving seat. They set off at some speed with both of them busy with silent, fervent prayers.

They didn’t even have time to get to the hospital. On the way, they called in at the cottage to pick up a case that was all packed and ready with everything Jessica needed for herself and the babies. However, as soon as they reached the cottage, Mrs Mellors had to make an urgent call to Dr Plockton. He was only minutes away, far nearer than the hospital, and he responded immediately to the call. Within minutes, he had delivered a healthy little boy and an equally healthy little girl.

‘Nothing wrong with their lungs anyway,’ Mrs Mellors laughed. Mrs Mellors washed them and wrapped them and gave them both to Jessica to hold.

Jessica was exhausted but deliriously happy. ‘They’re OK?’

‘Of course,’ Mrs Mellors said. ‘More than just OK. They’re perfect. Right, Doctor?’

Dr Plockton gave one of his shy smiles. ‘Yes, indeed. I’ll call back to see you tomorrow. Meantime, just rest and relax. Will you manage all right, Mrs Mellors? I could arrange for a nurse.’

‘No, no, but thanks all the same, Doctor.’

She saw him to the door and then hurried back to the bedroom, where Jessica was gazing with fervent love and delight at the bundles held in the crook of each arm.

‘Well,’ said Mrs Mellors, ‘this’ll be some news for your Brian, eh?’

‘Do you think he’ll be pleased?’ A look of anxiety immediately strained at Jessica’s eyes.

‘Pleased? He’ll be over the moon with pride and delight.’

Jessica relaxed again.

‘Fancy me managing to have twins!’

Mrs Mellors laughed. ‘Nobody could have done it better. But now we’ll have to get you that twin pram. I put the word around as you know, and Bobby from Bobby’s Bikes promised you one. I’ll send word to him to bring it out here right away.’

‘All this is putting you off your knitting for next Saturday’s stall.’

‘Stop worrying. I’ve plenty of stuff in reserve and wait till you see. Having a twin pram parked beside the stall will attract loads of extra customers wanting to come closer to admire the babies. And you know me – once I get them to the stall, I’ll start the patter and have them buying stuff no bother.’

True to her word, Mrs Mellors’ stall had never done such good business and both she and Jessica were nearly run off their feet trying to keep up with the extra sales. Tommy and Fiona were fortunately good babies and just lay gurgling and smiling up at everybody. Though Mrs Mellors said it couldn’t be smiling at their age, it was just wind.

‘You’re awful,’ Jessica protested. ‘You say it’s just wind, but they’ve beautiful smiles. Everybody says so. Everybody says they’re beautiful babies.’

‘I know, and you’d better watch they don’t grow up spoiled rotten.’

‘They are good though, aren’t they? They never cry. They don’t seem to mind all the noise and crowds. They seem so happy and contented. I’m so glad and happy for them.’

‘When’s Brian due now?’

‘I told you the date ages ago. Now there’s only a couple of weeks to go.’

‘Oh yes, I booked the meal in that Italian place. You can take the pram in there. Italians are great with children. I don’t know any other place that would welcome children like they do.’

‘I know. I remember that time we went ages ago and there was a wee girl toddling about and the waiters were making such a fuss of her, patting her head and giving her sweeties and a balloon to hold. I hope Brian’ll like my dress.’

‘Stop worrying. It’s a lovely dress.’

‘At least I’ve got my figure back. He always said I’d a slim, sexy body. I hope he doesn’t mind us not having a white wedding. It seemed such a fuss and expense.’

‘I told you to stop worrying. If anything, he’ll be glad. It would have meant him seeing about a kilt and all the Highland gear. I don’t know why men always have to wear the whole kiltie outfit at a wedding.’

‘Oh, I like to see a man in a kilt.’

‘Well, you’d better keep your eyes and your mind off men in kilts from now on.’

Jessica laughed. ‘Brian is, and always will be, enough for me.’ She suddenly did a wild dance around, her hand flaying the air. ‘I’m so lucky. Oh, so lucky …’

‘Is that another song or did you just make it up?’

‘I wonder if Brian had red hair when he was a baby. That dusting of hair Tommy has is a bit red, isn’t it?’

‘More like you. You’ve still a bit of auburn in your hair. I can see it when the sun shines on it. Brian’s hair is as black as soot and most likely always has been.’

‘Anyway, I stopped Mrs Plockton calling Tommy names. So I’m not as daft as you always make me out.’

‘Calling Tommy names?’

‘Yes, another wee Pinkie, she said, and when I objected, she patted his head and said, “Yes, maybe wee ginger nut would be better.” ’

‘The cow!’

‘I said very firmly, “His name is Tommy and he’ll be called nothing else.”You would have been proud of me, Mrs Mellors.’

‘Good for you, Jessie. But I was just thinking. Are you managing the stairs all right with the pram?’

‘You help me get it up and down.’

‘When I’m here, but that’s just at weekends. I still think you’d be much better in Vale of Lennox during the week. And I’m sure Brian will think the same. He likes the Campsie area, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes, he used to do a lot of hillwalking and climbing when he was young, he told me.’

‘There you are then.’

‘I’m fine just now. I’m managing the pram up and down the stairs.’ Her feelings about the flat and it being such an intimate part of the market hadn’t changed. She still loved it.

However, Brian agreed with Mrs Mellors after he came home and saw the struggle she must be having with the pram.

‘But I’m going to get one of those smaller buggies when the twins are a bit older, and better at sitting up.’

‘Yes, older and heavier, Jessica.’

‘But I can’t leave my flat. You know that.’

‘Just during the week. You can still be in your flat every weekend when Mrs Mellors would be there to help you with the pram.’

‘I bet she’s been on at you about the flats in Vale of Lennox.’

‘Yes. However, she also said you could stay with her in the cottage if you still don’t want to take on one of the flats there.’

Jessica tutted and shook her head.

‘I wish the pair of you would stop nagging at me.’

Brian enfolded her in his arms and kissed her brow, her cheeks, her lips.

‘Darling, I’m only thinking of what’s best for you. And I’m sure Mrs Mellors is too.’

‘OK. OK. I’ll think about it. I’ll just think about it. I’m not going to be rushed into anything.’

But she was still in the Calton flat when Brian came on his next leave. The children could toddle about by then. She could even take their hands and help them to climb the stairs, one on either side of her. Once in the flat, she’d stand them in their high-sided cots and then race back down for the buggy that had replaced the bigger pram. Several more leaves later, the twins were ready to go to the local primary school.

‘Talk about being spoiled at the Barras!’ Mrs Mellors said. ‘Now their daddy spoils them as well. If he brings them any more presents, you won’t have enough room in the flat for them all.’

Jessica laughed. ‘But they’re so adorable, aren’t they?’

‘Yes, I know, but it’s not good for them, Jessie. It might get them into trouble at school. Other kids might resent them and try to bully them. Even the teachers might not like spoiled kids.’

‘Now you’re worrying me.’

‘Just warning you.’

Jessica knew in her heart the truth of what Mrs Mellors was saying. What to do about it, that was the problem. By the time Tommy and Fiona were seven, Jessica could see that they were indeed being picked on. They were suffering fear and unhappiness. On more than one occasion, they had come home clinging to one another and weeping broken-heartedly. In much distress, Jessica had gone to the school to speak to the head teacher in an effort to find out exactly what was going on.

The head teacher had been polite but cool. She would look into the matter, of course, but she was sure, she said, that no bullying or wrongdoing could take place within the confines of her school. The staff supervised behaviour in the playground and would never allow any bullying to take place.

Jessica felt this was not exactly true. There had been times when she’d gone to the school gates at play time with a cake or a bag of sweets for the twins and she had not seen any sign of any teachers.

Something had to be done. She couldn’t go on watching the children be scared of going to school and seeing their obvious distress and unhappiness.

She eventually spoke to Brian about it on his next leave.

‘There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do,’ she told him.

‘Darling,’ he said quickly, ‘of course there’s something.’

‘What?’

‘You can bring them out to Saudi and stay with me and be together all the time as a proper family. There’s a nursery school and a primary school. There would be a lot fewer children, compared with the big school they attend here. The children all love it in the compound. I’m sure Tommy and Fiona will love it too.’

Jessica was speechless. She had never considered uprooting herself and leaving everything she’d been used to all her life and going to live in a strange, far-off land.

Now, for the first time, she began to consider it.

She couldn’t do it. Yes, something had to be done. Each day, she’d take the children to school and then wander around the Calton area treasuring every sight and sound and smell. The streets were so lovingly familiar to her. She’d toddled around them when she was little more than a baby. She remembered being fascinated by the escapologist setting up shop on the road, being locked into thick chains, and then getting out of them. She remembered Saturdays and Sundays when crowds streamed into the Barras. She remembered the smells. There were hot roasted chestnuts and salty-smelling whelks. You could get a little pin with the whelks to pull them out of their grey shells. There was the tangy smell of old cheeses – big slices of strong Scottish cheddar and racks of mature yellow and cream-coloured cheeses, some the size of small barrows. The smell of poultry too – rows of birds hanging up, plucked and ready. The fusty smell of potatoes from shopping bags. Pungent sweat squeezing from innumerable armpits. The shouts of stall holders and shopkeepers. The babble of passers-by, the laughter.

Jessica crushed through the crowded streets, her mind overflowing with memories. Soon she found herself outside the drop-in centre and decided to visit Evie. As usual, she had to climb over drunken bodies slumped in passageways. Sad songs slurred from loose mouths. As usual, she marvelled at Evie being able to spend so much time in the place. On this occasion, she was lucky in the fact that Evie was able to go out for lunch.

‘We’ve got enough staff now to take over for an hour and help at lunch time, so each of us can get out if we want to.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Jessica told her. ‘You need to get right away for a decent break. Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the St Enoch Centre.’

They chatted about Evie’s work on the way to the St Enoch Centre and when they reached it, Jessica said, ‘Did you know that this is the largest glass-roofed structure in Europe?’

Evie laughed. ‘Still the Glasgow historian? I agree with what Brian said, Jessica. You would have made a marvellous tourist guide.’

‘He wants more from me than that now.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He wants me to go out to Saudi and that awful compound place and live with him and the children there.’

‘The compound might not be as bad as you imagine. And he’s not wanting something
from
you. He wants to be fully committed to you, share his life with you and the children all the time. Not just for a few weeks a year. Why did you say he’s wanting something
from
you?’

Jessica shrugged. ‘My life here and all my memories, I suppose.’

‘Well, I know how much you’re attached to the Calton. I can understand that. You’ve been here since you were born. All the same, Jessica, he’s your husband. Your place is now with him.’