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Authors: Margaret Thomson Davis

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BOOK: The New Breadmakers
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‘I know. I was the same. But we’ll go out today again and look for a wee flat of our own. And we’ll get the wedding all organised. We’ve to put up banns or something first. They’ll tell us at the registry office how long it’ll all take. It’ll be a few weeks at least but that’ll give us plenty of time to get organised.’

‘You make it sound like a big affair. It’ll be only the two of us at the registry office, won’t it?’

‘Yes. We’ve no choice about that, Chrissie.’

‘I know. It’s just – I can’t help imagining what it would be like to have a big family celebration with all our folks there and a big cake and everything, and me in a lovely long dress and veil and holding a bouquet of flowers.’

‘I’m so sorry, Chrissie.’

‘It’s not your fault. Me and my silly imagination. As long as we can be together, Sean, that’s all that matters.’

He gathered her into his arms and she felt happy then. Grateful too. Sean was not only a kind and loving man, he was tall, dark and handsome, sexy too. She gladly succumbed to his kiss and was just at the point of deep, swooning arousal when she heard the front door open and a cheery voice cry out, ‘It’s only me, folks.’ Into the kitchen bustled Aunty Mary. ‘You’re going to enjoy this,’ she announced. ‘That baker down there makes the best rolls for miles ground. And I’ve got plenty of butter so don’t stint yourselves.’

It was terribly frustrating and Chrissie could hardly wait to get outside. Sean said, ‘She means well.’

‘Och, I know. She’s really an awful nice wee soul. I suppose we’ll just have to try and be patient.’

She was on the afternoon shift at the Mitchell and Sean had arranged for a couple of days off. Chrissie and Sean had thought of inviting Sammy and his wife Julie to their registry office wedding. They’d need witnesses after all. But they’d decided against it eventually. For one thing, it would mean Sammy and Julie taking time off work. For another, it would be an added blow, they supposed, to the family that strangers had been at the ceremony instead of them. Although Sammy and Julie weren’t strangers as such and the family would never have agreed to come. Ailish would be too frightened of ‘a doing’ or of being flung out of the house if she came. So there it was. All stupid and unnecessary. All the same, Chrissie decided to go to Copeland & Lye’s and tell Ailish. At least she would have the chance to come to the wedding ceremony.

Sean said, ‘As long as our families don’t do anything else to try and stop us.’

‘How do you mean?’ Chrissie felt suddenly anxious. ‘They couldn’t, could they?’

‘No, no,’ Sean said hastily. ‘We’re both of age. There’s nothing in law anybody can do.’

But the anxiety didn’t go away.

36

‘Are you all right, Julie?’ Sammy asked. He had come in from work, gone into the kitchen as usual and, finding it empty and the house unusually quiet, he’d looked into the front room. Julie was standing gazing wistfully out of the window.

‘Yes, fine.’ She turned towards him, avoiding his eyes.

‘You never mention Alice these days, but you’re obviously still thinking of her.’

‘I’ve never stopped thinking of her. I never will. I’ve just decided it would be best for her if I didn’t contact her, that’s all.’

‘She’s doing well, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, I’ve heard Mrs Robertson talking about her a few times. She’s been studying to be a doctor. A doctor, Sammy. Isn’t it wonderful? She must be almost finished her studies by now. I can just imagine her going around the wards in her white coat, with her stethoscope round her neck.’

Sammy went over and gathered her into his arms.

‘You know, Julie, I’ve been thinking. Now that she’s settled in a career, it surely wouldn’t do any harm to get in touch with her. No doubt Mrs Robertson has long since told her that she was adopted and it’s not as if she’s a child any more. There wouldn’t be the same risk of her getting a shock or being upset. I really believe it would be all right.’

‘Maybe I’m getting old, but I feel too nervous. What if she didn’t want to have anything to do with me, didn’t like me? Despised me, even, for giving her away?’ Julie shook her head. ‘And what would she think of me moving here and spying on her and her family?’

‘She would be touched that you loved and wanted her so much that you felt you had to be near her.’

‘I doubt it, Sammy. It’s been so deceitful of me. I’ve even spoken to Mrs Robertson. What would she think of me if she found out who I really am?’

‘She would be touched that you loved Alice and missed her so much that you had to be near her. And she would appreciate how you never tried to interfere or influence Alice or try to get her back when she was a child.’

‘I’ve left it too late.’

‘Nonsense. I’m going through to put the kettle on.’

‘Oh, Sammy, I’m sorry. I should have had your tea all ready. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Maybe it was overhearing that conversation about Alice in the butcher’s. It brought it all back again. There’s never a day passes when I don’t think of her at some time in some way, but I really believed I had everything, all my feelings, subdued, under control, you know. But now, here I am again …’

‘It’s perfectly understandable.’ Sammy led her away from the window of the room. ‘Now, sit down by the fire and I’ll make the tea. What’ll we have? Scrambled eggs?’

‘No, no. I’d rather keep myself busy. I’ve a couple of meat pies to heat up. That butcher has such good pies. You can set the table if you like. I’ll make some chips.’

As she stood cutting the potatoes at the sink, even her back showed her unhappiness, Sammy thought. His heart went out to her and he longed to do something to help banish her misery once and for all.

‘It would be such a lovely Christmas present for Alice – to find her real mother and to be reunited with her.’

Julie turned to smile at him. ‘There you go again.’

‘Well, wouldn’t it?’

‘Sammy, if she had wanted to be reunited with me, she would have tried to find me long ago.’

‘There could be several reasons why she hasn’t.’

‘Such as?’

‘Mrs Robertson might not have told her she’s adopted. But I doubt that. Lots of people tell their children that they’re adopted as soon as they’re able to understand. They usually explain that the child is special – especially chosen and wanted.’

‘I agree. OK, the chances are Alice knows. So why hasn’t she got in touch?’

‘One of the most likely reasons is that she doesn’t want to hurt or appear disloyal to the woman who has brought her up and has obviously been so loving and good to her. I’ve heard of several cases where that has happened. A colleague of mine in the Red Cross and his wife actually told their adopted son that they don’t mind if he tries to find his biological mother, but the boy refuses to do so. He insists they have always been his parents and always will be. Loyalty, you see.’

‘And love.’

‘Yes, of course, and Alice loves Mrs Robertson. You must accept that, Julie.’

Julie nodded. ‘I do. And I know that I don’t deserve any of Alice’s love. I never will.’

‘Oh, stop feeling so sorry for yourself and do something about it. I always believed you had more spirit than that.’

‘Cheeky devil!’ Some of the sparkle flashed back into Julie’s eyes. ‘I’ve plenty of spirit, don’t you worry.’

‘And you’ll do something about it?’

She turned away again. ‘We’ll see.’

He imagined she sounded more positive, more determined, and he felt glad. He had always admired her perky bravado in the face of difficulty and the courage that lay underneath it. He admired her but most of all he loved her and he knew that, no matter what happened, they could face it and get through it together.

He fetched the tablecloth from the dresser drawer and smoothed it over the table. His mother had embroidered the cloth for them as a wedding present. As he set the table with cutlery and china, he experienced an unexpected glow of happiness. How lucky he was to have such a beautiful and loving wife. How wonderful it was to be together in their perfect, homely house. To other eyes, it might only look like an ordinary one-bedroomed, grey stone tenement flat but, to him and Julie, it was perfection. A haven of comfort and privacy and love. Quite apart from what might happen with Alice – and he hoped and prayed that there would be a happy reunion of mother and daughter – they had another Christmas and New Year to look forward to.

They had been invited to a Christmas party at Madge and Alec’s house. That would be a really noisy occasion with such a big family but it would be good fun. Catriona was going to be there too. A real happy-go-lucky bloke at heart, Alec usually had them all laughing, even Madge. Alec was always at his best in company. Many another man would have gone under with Madge’s overpowering personality – not to mention her voice – and with the house forever packed with so many squabbling offspring. Most young people nowadays were flying the nest, going to college or university and living in halls of residence on university campuses. But not Alec’s brood. Madge often said, or bawled more like, ‘Am I never going to get rid of you lot?’

She didn’t want to, of course. Madge was all mouth. Always had been. But it must be very wearing for poor Alec living under the same roof as her and such a noisy family all the time.

No wonder he was glad to escape to work, or to go to the pub with Sammy after work, and to matches every Saturday afternoon. They were looking forward to the 1971 New Year Old Firm match in a few weeks’ time, at Ibrox, although neither of them relished the prospect of all the fighting and trouble usually involved.

Since Sammy had joined the Red Cross, he and Alec had to separate during the match if he was on duty. Then they’d meet up for a drink in a pre-arranged pub afterwards.

This time, with it being such a big match with such a huge potential for trouble and injury, every Red Cross man and St John Ambulance man that could be mustered would be on duty.

But first there was the Christmas party to look forward to. Then, on Hogmanay, Madge and Alec and Catriona were coming to ‘first-foot’ them. They were going to pick up his mother in Springburn on the way and bring her out to Bishopbriggs with them. So far, thank God, his father had not come after his mother. He had obviously taken the threat to his reputation to heart. Some people might have believed his excuse about burying the dog thinking the animal was already dead. But, if his wife and son spilled the beans about what a monster he’d been behind closed doors for so many years, he really would be finished. Without a friend in the world – if he wasn’t in that situation already.

The word ‘friend’ reminded Sammy of the Society of Friends and he felt a twinge of guilt. He should not, he knew, feel any satisfaction at anyone not having a friend in the world. He tried to banish Friends with a capital F from his mind. He felt suddenly angry at them as well as himself. What could they know about such a man as old Hodge Hunter? Talk about optimists! He felt himself shivering inside with secret fury. If there was anything inside Hodge Hunter, it was the Devil. Evil old bastard!

As Sammy set the table with the cruet and the bottle of HP sauce, the sugar bowl and the milk jug, he felt a terrible confusion in his mind, as well as the anger. He couldn’t rid himself of an element of guilt and of the part of himself that, like it or not, was a Quaker. At that moment, he hated Quakerism for making things so impossibly complicated in situations like this.

Deep down he knew that hatred itself was wrong. Hatred, bitterness, all these negative emotions only harmed oneself. It didn’t matter who or what was the target of that hatred.

Of one thing he was absolutely certain – according to everything he believed in, to leave his father, now a very old man, alone at Christmas was wrong.

Bloody hell!

37

Despite the danger of being found out, Ailish had volunteered to come to the wedding in the registry office and then for a modest meal at Miss Cranston’s Tearoom afterwards. Chrissie and Sean couldn’t afford a licensed place – they could only toast each other in cups of tea. They were desperately trying to save up. At first, for a few mad minutes, they had considered inviting their respective parents, and even Maimie and Dermot. They had imagined a last-minute reconciliation at the wedding ceremony but they soon realised that it was only a pipe dream.

‘It would have been so nice. If only …’ Chrissie sighed.

‘Yes,’ Ailish interrupted. ‘If only … if only. How many times in our lives have we said that, Chrissie? But we might as well face it. They’ll never be any different and, if they came to the registry office, it would only be to fight with each other and spoil what should be a happy day for you.’

‘Well, I’m glad at least you’re coming, Ailish.’

‘Who’s to be the other witness or best man or whatever?’

‘A pal of Sean’s from the office. We thought of inviting Sammy but that would have meant Julie as well and maybe even Catriona and Andrew. Apart from anything else, we just can’t afford any more for the tea. We’ll need every penny we can scrape together to get a place of our own and buy furniture and everything. I know it sounds awful but …’

‘No, it doesn’t.’

‘We’re really desperate to get away from Aunty Mary’s. Not that we’ve anything against her personally,’ Chrissie added hastily. ‘It’s so kind of her to have taken us in the way she did. But we never get a minute to ourselves – not to talk, not to do anything. We’re nearly going mad with frustration. The only way she would recognise us getting married is if we tied the knot in the chapel. She never stops trying to talk us into it. I’d have given in for the sake of peace but Sean’ll have none of it.’

‘Good for Sean. It’s the only way to stop all this nonsense carrying on from one generation to the next. We’ve got to make a stand, beat the bigotry, not let it beat us.’

‘Easier said than done.’

‘I know, but you and Sean are making a start.’

‘Do you think you’ll be next?’

‘Marrying out of the faith, do you mean? Well, I must admit I won’t go looking for trouble and a Protestant lover.’ She grinned. ‘I’ll just look for a lover. If he turns out to be a Catholic, fine. If not, hard luck, Mammy, Daddy and Dermot.’

BOOK: The New Breadmakers
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