Fortunes of the Heart (20 page)

Daniel’s voice broke with emotion and it took some gentle
persuasion from Kate before the upset youth could continue speaking.

“No, even if I’d wanted to, Dadda wouldn’t listen to me. He
said, now that he can no longer work, I’ll have to become the breadwinner and
look after the family. Honestly, Mammy, I have looked for a job, but there’s
nothin
’ to be had and it’s Dadda himself that makes me keep
on at school. The thing is, he wants for me to try to get a job of some kind in
the shipyards of all places.

Mammy, sorry. I’m not lazy nor
nothin
’
like that, but to work in the shipyards. It’s the very last thing I’d want to
do. Honestly. I’d just fair hate it. All the noise with the
hammerin
’,
rivetin
’, and
bangin
’, the
freezin
’ cold and all that. I just couldn’t stick It Mammy.
Anythin
’ else, but not the shipyards”

Kate leant across the table.

“Listen, Danny. I’m real sorry your father has been having
another go at you about Wee Isabella’s death. That wasn’t fair of him, son, and
if it were not for fear of starting another argument, I would be the first to
tell him so.”

Danny’s pale face grew even more ashen and he put out a hand
as if to wave away the very suggestion that his mother should take up the
cudgels on his behalf. Seeing this, Kate at once reassured him.

“It’s all right, son. I’m not that daft. Anyway, if I know
my own Danny Boy, I think you’ve already made up your mind as to what you want
to do with your life. Am I not right on that score?”

Danny’s face coloured painfully and with his mass of spots
thus highlighted, somehow he seemed even more than usually vulnerable.

“I think,” Kate said, “knowing you as well as I do, I could
make a good guess at your secret ambition in life. You’d like to run away and
join the soldiers. You fancy yourself in a uniform and wearing it as far away
from the
Candleriggs
as possible. Is that right son?”

“Mammy, you’ve got the wrong uniform. I do want to run away,
that’s true enough. But I want to go to sea. I’m set for a sailor boy, that’s
me.”

Kate’s eyes widened in amazement.

“A sailor indeed. My, my, and that’s very strange, for
nobody in my own family back in Ireland ever went anywhere near the sea, far
less wanted to sail on it.”

Kate sat lost in thought for a few minutes, gazing at a past
which only she could see.

“And now my son, my first-born and now my only son, wants to
be off to sea. Forgive me for saying it son, but especially after what happened
... the accident and that, you must be really keen, that’s all I can say.”

After further discussion, Daniel agreed not to rush headlong
into the sea-going idea, but to save it for later. He yielded to her wish that
he would hang on for another six months or so in the hope of getting a shore
job to his taste. But if nothing turned up during that spell, then, yes, he could
go to sea and with her full understanding and blessing.

Chapter 6

Kate had always got on well with the local shopkeepers and
not just on account of her always paying her bills strictly on time. She was
always able and happy to pass the time of day, inquire after the shopkeeper’s
family, and generally be sociable. With her pleasant personality, courteous
manner, and soft Irish brogue, over the years, she had gained not only
friendship but also various perks from the shopkeepers. It was not unknown for
an extra tomato, a chipped egg, or even a wee bag of broken biscuits for Hannah
to be slipped into Kate’s basket by a friendly shopkeeper.

Shopping, after her session with Daniel, the local newsagent
had asked: “That young lad of yours still not got a job, Mrs Kinnon?”

Kate shook her head sadly.

“No, nothing doing so far. But at least it’s not for the
want of trying, Mr McGregor.”

The newsagent nodded.

“Oh, fine well I know that, Mistress Kinnon. He’s a grand
lad. Not an idle bone in his body. Not like some of the layabouts round here.
Some of that lot will neither work nor want. Mind you, it must be said, times
is hard.”

Kate agreed and Mr McGregor went on: “The thing is this, and
I wouldn’t say this to anybody else, but I know you’re a lady of discretion.
I’m beginning to feel my age a wee bit. I could do with an assistant. and with
my own boy away, emigrated to America, I’ve no family to help. I’ve been
thinking I could maybe train up a likely lad like Daniel ... if he took to the
business, that’s to say. What would you think of the idea?”

“Oh, Mr McGregor, do you mean it, sir?”

The kindly face beamed and his chins wobbled as he laughed.

“Too bloody right I mean it, if you’ll pardon my French. I’m
getting too old for all this early-rising carry on. Between that and having to
look after my invalid wife. Anyway, don’t take this the wrong way, Mistress
Kinnon, but I’ve an idea that as well as helping me, the extra money wouldn’t
go far wrong in your own household these days, am I not right?”

Kate, choked with emotion at the man’s offer, had to swallow
several times before she could trust herself to speak.

“Extra money useful, did you say? Man, you never spoke a
truer word. Especially as ...”

The newsagent finished the sentence for her.

“Especially with your husband being the way he is now? Not
able to work and that. Does the Panel Doctor hold out any hopes for him?”

“He won’t hear of going to the doctor. Says a doctor can’t
do anything for what ails him. The death of his lovely Wee Isabella has gutted
him and left him unable to concentrate on anything else. That’s how he lost his
job at the Fruit Market; he made mistakes in his figures.” Kate sighed. “For
all that he’s a big man, he’s no labourer. He wasn’t brought up to it. When we
came here first, he tried heavy jobs, but he wasn’t fast enough or strong
enough ... Now, he scarcely leaves the house. He doesn’t even read any more.
Just sits in front of the fire for hours staring into space, ignoring everyone.
Mind you, that’s better than his raging tempers over nothing.”

“Well, then, my dear, just you send young Daniel along.
We’ll make a newsagent of him yet. Just you see if we don’t.”

Again, Kate thanked him profusely and was on the point of
leaving when Mr McGregor exclaimed: “Oh, I nearly forgot. I’ve another wee
snippet of news for you, my dear.

“As you know, I put those wee adverts in the window as an
obligement
for folk ... well. they do bring me in an odd
shilling as well. Anyway, when a Mrs Delaney came in with her wee message about
wanting to rent a room in a good God Fearing household, well, I thought of you
right away. I said to the good lady I wouldn’t bother displaying her advert but
instead I would give her your address and tell you to expect her round to have
a word with you. So, she’ll be round to see you on Saturday night. The
arrangement might turn out to be mutually agreeable and beneficial. Anyway, Mrs
Kinnon, you can see what you think once you’ve met the widow-woman and made
your own judgement.”

“Oh, Mr McGregor,” Kate said, “you’re far too good to me.
Such kindness I’ll never forget. Never, even if I live to be a hundred – which
God forbid.”

With loud cries of thanks being heaped on his head, the
balding, rotund newsagent blushed like a discomfited teenager. To hide his
embarrassment, he waved her words away, at the same time thrusting into her
hands a couple of bars of Highland cream toffee.

“Here, away with ye woman, yer
haverin
that ye are. Take these toffee bars out to Hannah, for fine well I know that
she always likes her wee sweet bite.”

Kate left the shop and flew home on wings of hope pushing al
enthusiastically-sucking Hannah in her now too-small go-chair. The poor child
now seemed to be all knees and elbows in the rickety old pram and her head
lolled like a puppet’s with the movement of the wheels. As she so often did,
Kate talked to Hannah as they went along the busy streets. She would point out
to her the strong Clydesdale horses pulling the heavy -laden carts, the tram
cars with their important sounding bells, the many street traders who not only
trundled their barrows, but who often had a distinctive cry for their wares,
like the fish-wife, who announced her coming with loud blasts on her bugle.
Hannah particularly enjoyed the fish-wife’s bugle and it kept her entertained
just searching the busy streets in the hope of catching a sight of the
sack-cloth aproned woman, wearing a man’s flat bunnet. Best of all, and what
really tickled Hannah’s fancy, was when she spotted a horse doing its business
in the middle of a stream of traffic.

They had now entered a quieter side street and to keep
Hannah amused, Kate started telling her all about the latest news. The fact
that poor Hannah perhaps recognised, far less understood, only about one word
in thirty was not important, the point was that Mammy was talking and paying
attention to her and that, Hannah loved.

“What do you make of that, Hannah, my love? Our Daniel’s to
get a job and real training for to become a man of business. And your old Mammy
... well, she’s maybe going to be getting a lodger. My, things are really
looking up, eh?”

Already Kate’s mind was racing ahead of her as she made
plans for the prospective and as yet still-to-be-met lodger.

Beaming with happiness, she gazed fondly at the sticky mess
which was now Hannah’s face.

“I’ve got it all arranged in my head already, Hannah. Here’s
what we’ll do. Since your Dadda now spends all his time in the back kitchen
anyway, we’ll all move in there. That will leave the good front room for Mrs
Delaney. Is that not a great idea, Hannah?

“Well, now, we had best get our skates on. I’ve still got a
lot of work to do. Especially if I’m to get the best front room ready for my
lodger. I’ll have to get it looking really nice so that the widow-woman likes
it and wants to become my lodger. So, maybe I’d better not count my chickens
just yet awhile. Oh, dear Lord above, please let the widow-woman like the room
and agree to take it. I don’t care how hard I have to work. I’ll work my
fingers to the bone, that I will, but please let it happen.”

Chapter 7

As had been previously arranged, Mrs Josephine Delaney
turned up at Kate’s door on the following Saturday afternoon, by which time
Kate had cleaned the best front room from top to bottom. Not only had she
rearranged the furniture to the best advantage, but also she had polished the
old wardrobe to within an inch of its life, and, from a length of material
bought at a jumble sale, she had even made opulent new curtains with which to
frame the inset wall-bed. Then as a last, pretty little touch, the previous
evening she had crocheted a couple of small doyleys which she then arranged
tastefully on the knee-hole dressing table.

Kate bustled around putting the final touches to the best
front room. Finally, she rubbed down the dark, wood-grained varnish of the door
and as a
grande
finale, gave a ceremonial flick of
her duster at the picture of Highland stags at bay in pride of place over the
fireplace. That done, she stood back and, hands on hips, surveyed and admired
her handiwork. She nodded her self-satisfaction.

Yes, Kate, my girl. It will do very well. I’m sure there’s
not a finer, nor a cleaner room to rent anywhere in the whole of
Candleriggs
. Come to think of it, even if Mrs Delaney
doesn’t like it or want it after all, then there are plenty more herring in the
sea.

On that happy and positive note, she then went into the
kitchen to attend to Pearce and make him a cup of tea, while she awaited Mrs
Delaney’s arrival. They had just finished their tea and scones when the door
knocker sounded. As if shot from a cannon, Kate leapt to her feet and almost
ran to the hall in her eagerness to open the door, so anxious was she to start
on this new phase of her life. She opened the door and there on the landing
stood a tall, striking-looking woman whose very bearing pronounced she was a
lady of quality. It took all of Kate’s will power not to give a quick bob of a
curtsey, as she had been trained to do whenever, and if ever, she chanced to
meet any of the fine ladies at Laggan House.

As if innately sensing the younger woman was somewhat
discomfited, Mrs Delaney took the initiative. Holding out her gloved hand, and
in a very cultured Irish accent, the visitor said: “You must be Mrs Kinnon. I
believe you are expecting me? Mr McGregor gave me your name and address and
suggested that I call round to see you today. I’m Josephine Delaney – Mrs
Delaney, that is.”

By now, having recovered her composure to some extent, Kate
invited her visitor into her home and set about making her feel welcome. As she
showed her guest into the freshly prepared front room, she first gave a nervous
cough.

“Here it is, Mrs Delaney, the room I can offer you. I’ve
arranged the furniture to make it a bed-sitting room, and with that little
table over by the bay window, I’d be able to serve you all your meals, which
I’d cook for you in the back kitchen.”

Kate stole a quick look at Mrs Delaney’s face to gauge the
woman’s reaction. But all she could see was a poker face giving not the
slightest clue to what the woman was actually thinking.

In her acute nervousness, Kate babbled on.

“Of course, if you preferred only attendance, by which I
mean you would buy and bring in your own food, do your own marketing, in other
words, then, of course, I’d be happy to cook it for you and serve it in here at
whatever times would be most convenient for you. And of course, I’d be happy to
attend to your laundry needs if you wanted me to and ...”