The Watercress Girls (9 page)

T
here were not so many around the table at breakfast as there had been last night at supper. At seven o’clock some had already departed to work, or in hopes of obtaining a job of any sort. There were always long queues at the employment offices.

The Scotsman joined their family party, enquiring if they were refreshed after a good night’s sleep. He introduced himself as Mungo McBride, the fiancé of Ma Smith’s niece Jeannie. ‘We met in Edinburgh, shortly before Jeannie left for Canada to be with her aunt. We kept in touch over the past four years. You could say, we became engaged by letter! Like you, I am travelling on to Moose Jaw today. I have a teaching post, and lodgings arranged. I want to be established before Jeannie joins me and we are married.’

‘We will be glad of your company,’ Griff told him. He would not dream of saying so, of course, but he felt rather weighed down with the unexpected extra responsibility of Grace and her family. He had spent a restless night, missing Mattie. Also, Tommy suffered from enlarged adenoids and snuffled and snored while he was asleep.

Ma Smith banged the side of each plate with the ladle in order to dislodge the helpings of thick grey porridge. She indicated a large
sticky-rimmed
jar. ‘Syrup. Salt for Mungo.’

This was the not golden syrup Mattie sometimes had at home, in preference to demerara sugar, but maple syrup. She was not too sure that she liked the taste. At the Plough, and recently at Sybil’s, she’d enjoyed porridge made with milk. Here, it was steeped overnight in water, then cooked first thing. Only added milk made it palatable.

Jeannie brought them their mugs of tea. ‘Would you care for fried bacon and eggs? You need to travel on a full stomach, if you are not booked on the restaurant car. Ma will pack you food for the journey, if you wish it, but you can buy hot drinks at stopping points along the way. You’ll need to carry a rug or two, in case the temperature drops very low while you are travelling overnight. But you save a lot going third-class.’

‘Thank you for your good advice,’ Mattie said gratefully. She looked
at Griff. ‘We’ll all be glad of the extra breakfast, I’m sure, eh? And the food for the journey.’

He nodded. He read into Grace’s hesitation that she was worrying whether she could afford further expense. ‘For four, please,’ Griff said. ‘On my account.’

Mattie squeezed his hand to let him know she was pleased at his quick response.

‘That will be added to the bill then,’ Jeannie said.

Griff winked at Mattie when they observed that Mungo’s plate had an extra egg and a whole slice of fried bread. ‘Will I get the same
privilege
when you serve our breakfast?’ he whispered in her ear.

Mattie gave him a look of mock reproof. ‘
You’ll
be doing the cooking, I reckon.’

Mungo overheard this exchange. ‘I must admit that I have never been involved in matters domestic. I am the youngest by several years of six, the only son; I was spoiled by my sisters, none of whom married, after my mother passed away. They had been educated at home by my father, who was a minister of the Church of Scotland. They determined that I should go away to school and then on to university, I am very indebted to them for that. Jeannie and I met when she joined the evening class where I taught geography. I learned that she intended to emigrate to Canada. I was bored with academia; the idea grew in my mind that I would do the same. So here I am.’

‘Yes, here you are, but not for long,’ Jeannie commented, as she collected crockery.

She looks like a younger edition of her aunt, Mattie thought, as she tucked in. She and Mungo don’t seem, well, very romantic, but then, they must be nearer forty than thirty.

Tommy dipped his bread in egg yolk. He spoke with his mouth full, despite his mother’s frown. ‘Why aren’t you wearing your kilt today’?’ he asked Mungo.

‘It was a special occasion yesterday, laddie. Today and travel is more suited to sober attire, eh?’ Mungo’s voice was high in pitch, his tone precise. It contrasted with Jeannie’s Glaswegian accent.

‘What special occasion?’ Tommy asked.

‘Tommy, It’s rude to ask personal questions!’ his mother reminded him.

‘Indeed, he is just curious, and why not? I was asked to play my bagpipes at a luncheon party for some of the Scottish contingent in Quebec.’

‘Bagpipes! Are you bringing them to Moose Jaw?’ Tommy wanted to know.

‘My pipes and I are never parted. But don’t expect me to pipe you on to the train!’

‘My mother plays the piano—’

‘Tommy!’ Grace was embarrassed. She patted Lydia’s back, her head bent.

‘Then we may play in harmony one day, perhaps,’ Mungo said gallantly.

When she reflected on the journey in years to come, Mattie would remember the biting cold, the bleakness of some of the countryside, then the contrasting beauty of the landscape, as the rail car sped along the tracks. The great lakes were silvery in unexpected sunlight; snow still capped the hills and the tall pine trees, and blanketed rooftops of the townships. When they halted, in remote areas, to take on coal or water, it seemed to Mattie that they were in no man’s land. However, they became aware that mail was being sorted continually while they were on the move, and that this was collected and delivered at rural and city stations
en route
. Passengers had the opportunity to stretch their legs at the city stations, to purchase food from cheerful vendors.

Late on the first evening, when they sat huddled in the rugs while Grace nursed her baby discreetly, they were surprised and delighted when they arrived at a country station to a warm welcome from the station master and his wife, with an urn of tea at the ready, ham
sandwiches
and buttered fruit scones. This repast was served in the waiting room, by a good fire. Griff, Tommy and Mungo later strolled along the platform, while Grace and Mattie made the baby comfortable in the rush basket.

When it was time to reboard the train they discovered another cheering development. The stove in the corner of their carriage had been lit, and a basket of wood chips provided. This heat was a godsend during the long night’s travelling ahead.

A new day dawned. The men ruefully rasped their stubbly chins, the women shared a billy-can of hot water, heated on top of the stove, and had a perfunctory wash. There was a yawning line of people waiting outside the WC in the corridor. Only little Lydia had a change of clothes. Tommy was bored; he was reprimanded by Grace for trying to open the carriage window. ‘D’you want us all to freeze?’ she demanded.

Mattie had a crick in her neck. Not surprising, she thought, when she’d rested her head on Griff’s shoulder all night. She’d been the first of their party to wake, and had observed Grace similarly supported by Mungo. Quite innocent, of course, she told herself, but just as well that Jeannie is not with us, or Grace’s husband….

What a vast country this was, with scenery which changed
continually
. They glimpsed boats on busy rivers, rolling pastures, distant mountains. They would spend another night on the train and most of
the following day, and they were all becoming very travel-weary. Grace was preoccupied with the baby, so Mattie, Griff and Mungo did their best to keep young Tommy happy, with a pack of battered playing cards and pencil-and-paper games.

There were more mail stops, then, at last, the signs that they were approaching a prosperous area: Regina! They had travelled almost 2,000 miles. The name was written large and black on the map Griff had purchased in Quebec. They were in Saskatchewan, Central Canada; in another hour or so they would arrive at Moose Jaw, which was some forty miles away.

‘How did it get its name?’ Tommy wondered.

Griff had been primed by Evie, who was fascinated by such facts. ‘Apparently it’s derived from a Cree name for a place. Did you know that the male moose is the largest animal in the world with antlers?’ he asked.

‘Bet it’s got a very big jaw then, too!’

‘At least it can’t jaw-jaw like you,’ his mother put in ruefully.

Moose Jaw had expanded considerably since the early pioneer days. The population was cosmopolitan and Mattie’s and Griff’s first impressions were favourable. They were impressed by the amenities on offer. The bustle of the place reminded them of Plymouth but, as with any city, Griff thought there could be a darker side, too.

Here, they parted company with Mungo, who was going by taxi downtown. They exchanged addresses and promised to keep in touch.

Mungo ruffled Tommy’s hair. ‘Maybe you’ll be enrolled at my school – it would be good for me to see a familiar face.’ He looked over the boy’s head at Grace.

‘Oh, I hope so!’ Tommy said fervently. ‘Then I could learn to play the pipes!’

They didn’t have long to wait before Griff’s uncle arrived to collect them and Grace was reunited with her husband. It was the first time Edwin, a small man as befitted a jockey, had seen the baby. Poor Tommy stood disconsolately by, not even acknowledged by his stepfather. He moved back to stand by Mattie and Griff.

Mattie hugged him impulsively. ‘Well, we’re off, but hope to see you again soon!’

‘I wish I was going with you and Griff,’ he whispered.

‘Oh, Tommy, your mother couldn’t do without you!’

‘You don’t know what
he’s
like. He wants her to himself. He doesn’t like me. I’m afraid of horses, he thinks I’m a sissy. He says I need
toughening
up.’

‘I hope if we have a son one day, he’ll be like you!’ Mattie said stoutly.

Uncle Charlie, a long, lean man with a weatherbeaten face, wore his Sunday suit in their honour. His sparse hair was slicked down with lard and he’d trimmed his moustache. His welcoming smile revealed gaps in his teeth, and later he would cheerfully tell them that he had pulled
troublesome
molars himself with pliers.

He handed Mattie up into the trap. She tried to smooth down her crumpled skirt. She thought ruefully that her trousseau would likely remain in the trunk, but she longed for a hot bath and a complete change of clothes.

Fifteen minutes after passing through the nearby town of Morse, they rattled and jolted along a dirt track, iron-hard from the grip of winter and scored by wagon wheels.

Charlie indicated a small wooden building with an adjacent barn. ‘Built that with my own hands when we first come here. I’d trained as a carpenter back home. When we laid claim to the land and got the papers signed, my son and I began work on the farmhouse. Still adding to that! That’s the beauty of wood, eh? We’ll be glad to have your company for a while; we miss our family since they moved to North Dakota. They’re doing well, building their own homestead now. The sod house is still standing! When we retire, we aim to join them.’

The farmhouse was a pleasing sight with its gabled roof, smoke curling from the chimneys, and a veranda running the length of the house. There were outbuildings, a grain store, a brick well, an
impressive
vegetable patch, a ploughshare in the drive and horses in the stable.

Aunt Anna came hurrying out to meet them, wiping floury hands on her sacking apron. Like Charlie, she had a ruddy complexion, but her abundant greying hair was bundled into a knot on top of her head. She was obviously strong and energetic.

‘Here you all are, then,’ she cried, almost lifting Mattie off her feet, in her embrace. ‘Not much of you,’ she told Mattie, ‘We’ll need to feed you up!’

‘You sound just like my mother!’ Mattie had a sudden rush of tears to her eyes.

‘My dear, you’re all worn out after all that travelling.…’

‘I feel –
frowsty
!’ Mattie was crying now. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she gulped.

‘Griff, you’ll have to wait for
your
hug! Leave the trunks to Charlie. Let’s take Mattie upstairs, then I’ll fill the hip bath with hot water – a good old soak will help. But first, I’ll get Charlie to bring you a nice cup of tea. Supper will be served in an hour.’

The bath was behind a reed screen in the bedroom. The furniture was plain, hand-made, of unvarnished pine, like the floorboards. There were shaggy rugs beside the low bed and, as Mattie discovered, when she sat
on the side to undress, the softest of feather mattresses. She was tempted to curl up on it that minute.

‘I think I’ll get in the bath after you,’ Griff said. ‘We can’t waste all that hot water.’

Mattie undressed behind the screen. Anna had provided a big towel, a bath mat, and a bar of green soap. Mattie thought ruefully of the
luxuries
she had become used to in Plymouth, a proper bathroom, fragrant bath salts, hot water on tap.

She called out to Griff, ‘Can you delve into the depths of my handbag? You’ll find a small bottle of Mitcham lavender.…’

She was immersed in the steaming water, leaning comfortably against the curved back of the bath, when a hand appeared round the screen, waving the scent bottle.

‘Oh, bring it to me, please. I can’t get out and drip everywhere.’

‘I thought you wouldn’t want me to see you,’ he floundered.

‘Don’t be silly. We’re married, aren’t we? It’s perfectly normal. Anyway, I was hoping you’d wash my back.’

‘In that case—’ The rest of him emerged. He handed her the bottle, with a bemused smile. As she tipped the contents in the water he added softly. ‘You’re beautiful, Mattie. I’m so lucky.’

‘So am I. You really must stop being bashful. I may have held you off before we tied the knot, but now we’ve a lot to catch up on, eh?’

At Griff’s urging Mattie had changed into the red-wool dress she had worn when they travelled to Suffolk to tell her parents the exciting news of their engagement.

‘You may feel we have gone back in time coming here, Mattie, but I can’t visualize you in shawl and clogs.’

‘No, but I’ll need longer skirts to avoid chapped knees,’ she joked.

‘Let your hair down, you’re still a girl, not yet twenty, even though you’re married.’

Charlie gave Mattie an appreciative wink when he saw her. Anna batted him on the head with a cork table mat. ‘That’s enough of that, old man!’ she said.