AN APPLE FROM EDEN
EMMABLAIR .
Book Jacket.


The Seatons, affluent membersof the Protestant
gentry, own The Haven, an opulent estate in the
Scottish countryside. The Flynns, proud Catholics,
spend their working days in the factories and laundry
houses of industrial Glasgow. Divided by class,
wealth and religion, two families could not live more
different lives. However, as the Great War fades from
memory, young Bridie Flynh lands a job as a domestic
servant at The Haven and falls madly in love with lan
Seaton, heir to the family estate. Bridie breaks every
convention to pursue herpassion, little realising how
seriously - and tragically - the affairs of the Flynns
and the Seatons are about to become entangled...


romance


Cover illustration: Melyyn Warren-Smith


ISBN 0-7089-?044-4



CHARNWOOD

LARGE PRINT


9 '780708"990445"


SPECIAL MESSAGE TO READERS


This book is published under the auspices of

THE ULVERSCROFT FOUNDATION

registered charity No. 264873 UK


Established in 1972 to provide funds for
research, diagnosis and treatment of eye diseases.

Examples of contributions made are: -- v

A new Children's Assessment Unit at

Moorfield's Hospital, London.



Twin operating theatres at the

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A Chair of Ophthalmology at the

University of Leicester.



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You can help further the work of the Foundation

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w

In Australia write to:
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co The Royal Australian College of

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N.S.W. 2010.

V


Emma Blair was born in Glasgow and now
lives in Devon. She is the author of sixteen
bestselling novels, including Scarlet Ribbons, shortlisted for the Romantic Novel of the
Year Award.

AN APPLE FROM EDEN


The Seatons, affluent members of the
Protestant gentry, own The Haven, an
opulent estate in the Scottish countryside.
The Flynns, proud Catholics, spend their
working days in the factories and laundry
houses of industrial Glasgow. Divided by
class, wealth and religion, two families could
not live more different lives. However, as the
Great War fades from memory, young Bridie
Flynn lands a job as a domestic servant at
The Haven and falls madly in love with lan
Seaton, heir to the family estate. Bridie breaks
every convention to pursue her passion, little
realising how seriously --- and tragically -- the affairs of the Flynns and the Seatons are
about to become entangled . . .


Books by Emma Blair
Published by The House of Ulverscrofi:


WHERE NO MAN CRIES
NELLIE WILDCHILD

HESTER DARK
THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN

JESSIE GRAY

THE PRINCESS OF POOR STREET

WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

A MOST DETERMINED WOMAN

SCARLET RIBBONS

MAGGIE JORDAN

THE WATER MEADOWS

THE SWEETEST THING

THE DAFFODIL SEA

HALF HIDDEN

PASSIONATE TIMES

FLOWER OF SCOTLAND

EMMA BLAIR

AN APPLE
FROM EDEN


Complete and Unabridged




CHARNWOOD

Leicester

First published in Great Britain in 1998 by

Little, Brown and Company

London


First Charnwood Edition

published 1998

by arrangement with

Little, Brown and Company UK

London


The right of Emma Blair to be identified as
he author of this work has been asserted by her

in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988


Cover Artist: Melvyn Warren-Smith


Copyright  1998 by Emma Blair
All rights reserved


British Library CIP Data


Blair, Emma

An apple from Eden.--Large print ed.Charnwood
library series

1. Social classes--Scotland--Fiction

2. Scotland--Social life and customs-- 20th century--Fiction 3. Love stories
4. Large type books
I. Title
823.9'14 F


ISBN 0-7089-9044-4


Published by
F. A. Thorpe Publishing Ltd.
Anstey, Leicestershire


Set by Words  Graphics Ltd.

Anstey, Leicestershire

Printed and bound in Great Britain by

T. J. International Ltd., Padstow, Cornwall


This book is printed on acid-free paper


1


'L'amour.' Bridie Flynn sighed, then repeated the word.

'Zamour.'

'You what?' queried Teresa Kelly in astonishment.

'It's French for love,' Bridie informed her. 'I
go prickly all over every time I say it.'

Teresa shook her head. 'I suppose you learned
that from one of those daft books you're always

reading.'

'They're not daft at all!' Bridie retorted.
'Amongst other things they're very informative.
Why, I'd be lost without my books. Thank
Heavens for the library. The best thing I ever
did was joining.'

Bridie -glanced about her. The rest of the
family were out -- a rare enough event as there
was usually someone else around in the evenings.
Her mother, father and sister Alispn had gone
to visit Granny Flynn who was suffering from
lumbago. As for her brother Scan, who knew
where he was? He could be anywhere. Probably
with one or some of his many pals.

'You know what I'd really like to have been
in life,' Bridie suddenly stated.

'What?'

'A schoolteacjier.'

Teresa gave a derisory laugh. 'You, a
schoolteacher! My my, we have got ideas
above our station, haven't we? Our kind don't

become schoolteachers. That's for posh folk.'

Bridie pulled a face. 'I know. But a lassie
can have dreams, can't she? If things had been
different, if I hadn't been born into an ordinary
working-class family, then that's what I'd like to
have been. A spell at university, then training
college followed by teaching.' Her eyes took on
a faraway look. 'Oh but that would have been
grand. The bees' knees.'

Well, it's the lemonade factory for you, my
gin, and thankful you should be that you have
a job at all. There's many don't, as you well
know.'

Bridie thought with distaste of the lemonade
factory, her place of employment, as it was
Teresa's, since leaving school.

'I don't know about I'amour, but if it's
boys you're talking about, well, I'm certainly
not against them. Quite the contrary.' Teresa
giggled. 'I wonder what it's like?'

'What's what like?'
Teresa gave her friend a conspiratorial wink.
'That. L'amour.'

Bridie reddened slightly. 'I'm not just talking
about that, though of course it is part and parcel
of love. No, I mean the act of being in love,
of existing for someone else and they for you.
On counting the hours, minutes and seconds
till you see them again. The sheer elation of
being in their company. The thrill when they
touch you, the bliss of their lips on yours. The
time spent together when the rest of the world
ceases to exist.'

Teresa snorted. 'Well, there sure isn't much

of that around here. Could you imagine my
ma and da gazing adoringly into each other's
eyes? The only thing my da stares adoringly at
is food when it's put in front of him. Especially
after a hard day's graft. Then he gazes adoringly
enough. Particularly if it's his favourite mince
and potatoes. I swear he'd murder for a heaped
plate of that.'

Bridie leant further back into the rather
ancient fireside chair which had belonged to
Pat and Kathleen Flynn since early on in their
marriage, one of the first items of furniture
they'd acquired, and even then it had been
second hand from Crown Showrooms in the

town.

'You can mock all you like, Teresa Kelly,
there's a Prince Charming out there for each
and every one of us. Or if there isn't there
should be. And one fine day I'm going to meet
mine. I just know it.'

'You're away with the fairies, you are. Always
have been in my recollection, and God knows
I've known you long enough.'

Teresa stared hard at her friend. 'Those silly
books you've forever got your nose stuck in have
a lot to answer for, and that's a fact. They've
made you expect too much out of life. You'll
settle for some nice lad just like all the rest of
us, someone plain and ordinary and a far cry
from a blinking Prince Charming. There'll be
the wedding followed by weans and years of
toil as is the case with all the women round
here. There'll be precious little time for gazing
adoringly into eyes when you'll be spending


most of your time down the steamie boiling
dirty nappies or else at home slaving over a
hot stove and trying to make ends meet.'

Despair filled Bridie. What Teresa said was
true enough, though she was reluctant in the
extreme to accept it.

'Life's real, and hard,' Bridie went on. 'What
you read in those books of yours are only
stories. Sort of ... well, things to get you out
of yourself. A pretence if you wish.'

Bridie closed her eyes and pictured a
handsome, dashing young man with flaxen
hair and piercing blue eyes. 'Zamour,' she
breathed again. 'A meeting of souls.'

Teresa barked out a laugh. 'Your arse in
parsley, hen. A meeting of souls indeed. Utter
tosh.'

'It is not!' Bridie retorted fiercely.

It is sought. Och, I admit when you find the
right chap there should be a lot of loveydovey
stuff during your courting. But that, from what
I understand, is soon over once the wedding ring
is on your finger. Then it's down to reality and
getting on with it.'

Bridie came to her feet and leant against the
mantelpiece. She suddenly wished her friend
would leave so she could get back to her
current book. There was still a while before
bedtime, time enough for a couple of chapters
at least.	*

Bridie started when she heard the front door
open.

'Cooeee, we're home!' Kathleen Flynn called
out. 'Get the kettle on.'

And so ended the conversation about i amviand Prince Charming.


*


'Come in,' Willie Seaton responded to the knock
on his study door. As he'd expected it was lan,

his only son.

'You wanted a word with me, Pa.'

Willie indicated an adjacent chair. 'Sit yourself
down. And aye, I do wish a chat.'

Willie rubbed his eyes which were painful
from long hours poring over ledgers. He was
going to have to give in and see an optician,
he told himself, something he'd been fighting
against these past few years. But although he
still considered himself a relatively young man at
forty-four time was beginning to take its toll.

'Would you care for a dram, son? I know I'm

ready for one.'

lan immediately rose although he'd only just
sat. 'Yes, I will join you, Pa. I'll do it.'

Willie produced cigarettes and lit up, not
offering the packet to lan who didn't smoke.

'Hard day, Pa?'

Willie nodded. 'What about yourself? What

have you been up to?'

'Did a bit of rabbit shooting earlier. Knocked
over half a dozen of the buggers. Mrs Kilbride
was pleased to get them.' Mrs Kilbride was

their cook.

'So it'll be rabbit stew or pie tomorrow,' Willie
mused, which pleased him. He enjoyed rabbit,
hare even more.


'There you are,declared lan, placing Willie's
drink in front of him, before returning' to
his chair.

'Slamthe!' Willie toasted. 'Slainthe, Pa.'

Willie tasted his drink, smiled in appreciation,
then steadily regarded his son. 'It's a fortnight
now since you returned home from your studies.
I wanted to give you time to settle back in before
speaking to you.'

lan nodded, knowing what was coming next.
'What do you have in mind?'

'You've always been aware you'll be taking
over from me some day. Though not for a
while I hope. I have no wish to depart this
world just yet.'

lan laughed softly. He and his father got on
extremely well, and always had done. With one
exception that is, but that subject had long been
accepted by lan, the animosity forgotten.
'So when do I start?'

Willie nodded his approval. 'Keen, eh? That's
the stuff, lad. I like keenness in a person. Apart
from anything else it shows character. And I
hope the son and heir of Willie Seaton would
have that.'

Willie squirmed himself into a more comfortable
position while lan waited patiently for him to
go on.

'I want you to learn as I did and my" father
before me, which means starting at'the bottom.
When you're finished there won't be a job on
this estate, including mine, which you won't be
able to do if necessary. Understand?'

'The hard way in other words lan comffienfea


ruefully.
'Exactly.'

It was what lan had expected. Thanks to his
studies he was well versed in the theory. Now
came the practical side of things. He had to
admit he was looking forward to it.

'You start next Monday under Jock Gibson.
Jock is getting on in years and it won't be too
long until his retirement. When that happens
you'll be the next estate manager.'

lan thought of Jock Gibson, a dour Scot,
though kindly underneath, if ever there was.
He'd known Jock all his life.

'While you're working for Jock he's the boss
and you do as he says. I don't want you trying
to pull rank on him. Is that clear?'
'Quite clear, Pa.'

'It would be rude if nothing else and I can't
abide rudeness. Never have.'

lan recalled the several cuffs he'd received
when a youngster for cheeking his father,
incidents he still vividly remembered. There
had been nothing token about those cuffs,
they'd hurt like billy-o. Willie wasn't joking
when he said he couldn't abide rudeness.

'And make sure you dress properly. You're
going to get more than your hands dirty.' He
added sarcastically, 'It wouldn't do to ruin one
of those smart suits of yours now, would it?'

lan laughedThe idea of him turning up for
work under Jock wearing a suit appealed to him.
He was almost tempted to do so just for a lark.
Dear old Jock would have a fit.

mueeu, ray fie replied in mock seriousness.

Willie took a deep breath. He'd been looking
forward to this ever since lan had been born.
How proud Mary would have been, just as prouc
as he himself was. Darling, lovely, departec
Mary.


'Any queries?'	-I lan considered that. 'I don't think so, Pa.Except for remuneration of course.' That was!
said slightly tongue in cheek.
v 'Your allowance will continue as before. And
consider yourself lucky, it's far more than the
estate workers get.'


Willie decided to tease his son. 'Though on
second thoughts perhaps I should pay you what
they earn. That way you'd really learn the value
of money. Xhat a ha'penny is hard come by.'

Alarm flared in lan. Surely his father wasn't
serious? 'Pa?' he queried anxiously.


Willie's eyes twinkled. 'Just a wee josh, son.
You'll continue on with your allowance as
I said.'


He finished his whisky, stared at the empty
glass for a moment, then looked again at lan and
smiled. 'I believe I'll have another. It's not every
day you welcome your son into the firm.'

lan again did the honours.


*


JssSKKrss

second wife, said to lan across the dinner


8


'That's right, Georgina.'

'Good.'

Willie indicated to a hovering maid to refill
the wine glasses. Georgina covered the top of
her glass with a hand, having had her quota.
Ever mindful of her figure she took great care
with what she ate and drank.

'I must say it's all very exciting,' she declared.

Rose Seaton made a small harumphing sound.

lan raised an eyebrow. 'You wish to make an
utterance, sister dear?'

Rose shook her head.

'Oh! I thought you might have.'

'Only that it was so quiet and peaceful when
you were away,' she stated sweetly.

'I thought you missed me.' That dripping
sarcasm.	**-. ..*

'B*4fc

'Dreadfully. It was so dull without you
charging about the house. That and the general
hubbub, you always seem to cause when you're

around.'

'Rose!' Willie admonished sharply.

'Yes, Pa?' she smiled, innocence itself.

Til have no such banter at the dinner table.
It's most unseemly.'

Georgina secretly enjoyed 'such banter' as
Willie called it. It livened things up. She
glanced at Willie and not for the first time
wondered what her life would have been like
if Harry had lived. Harry who'd gone to war
and never come back. Harry whom she'd simply
adored. He'd been another lively one, just
like lan.

'Georgina?'

She roused herself from what had only been

a few moments' reverie. 'Yes, Willie?' '	
'You had the strangest expression on your

face. Are you all right?'

'Perfectly, thank you very much.'
'Not a tinge of indigestion, I trust?'
She laughed throatily. 'Not at all. I was
simply reflecting on how delicious this lamb
is. Airs Kilbride has quite excelled herself imust remember to compliment her.'	*Rose, with a tendency to plumpness, agreed;
with Georgina about the lamb and considered!
whether or not to have a second helping. She
envied Georgina her figure and Georgina's
discipline regarding it.


'I thought we might play whist after dinner,'
Willie announced. 'Or canasta perhaps.'
lan and Rose both inwardly groaned.
'I was thinking we might play the gramophone,'
lan said.


Georgina would have much preferred the
gramophone to whist or canasta. And several
dances with lan who was a marvellous dancer,
unlike Willie who was terrible. Many a time
Willie had succeeded in trampling on her feet.
'I think the gramophone is a splendid idea,'
Georgina declared.


That didn't suit Willie at all. He'd had his
mind set on a game of cards. 'How about we
have some whist then the gramophdne?' he
suggested hopefully.

Georgina decided to humour him. 'Better still.
That way honour's satisfied all round.'
Willie beamed at her, Georgina's heart sinking


10


when she recognised a particular gleam in
his eyes.

It was going to be one of those nights.


*


Kathleen Flynn glanced over at the mantelpiece
clock. As was usual on a Friday Pat was late
home from work. She knew where he was -- the
same place he went every Friday evening after
being paid -- the pub.

Kathleen sighed. How much, or little, would
he bring back with him this time? And how
drunk would he be? Mind you, she was lucky,
a lot luckier than many in their street. Pat
rarely hit her, while others she knew got a right
battering each and every Friday night.

She didn't begrudge him his drink, it was the
culmination of a hard week's graft after all. A
man had to have something to look forward to.
If only he wouldn't get carried away and spend
so much.

Kathleen briefly closed her eyes. How she
hated the eternal scrimping and scraping, half
the time robbing Peter to pay Paul. How many
Thursdays and Fridays had they been reduced
to eating bread and dripping? Times without
number.

Another half hour she calculated. For Pat
never left until after last orders.

Would he eat something or go straight to bed?
You never knew with Pat. It never bothered him
that when he did insist on going straight to bed
without a wash he made a terrible mess of the


11



sheets. He was a coalman after all. As far as
he was concerned that was something for her
to worry about.


'Why don't you put the kettle on?' Kathleen
suggested to Bridie sitting opposite, her face in
one of the books she constantly devoured.

Bridie blinked and looked up. 'Did you say
something,, Ma?'


'Why don't you put the kettle on?'
'Not for me. Ma, I don't fancy a cup right at
the moment. Shall I put the kettle on for you
. though?'


Kathleen considered that. It seemed a waste
to make a pot just for herself, tea being so
expensive nowadays. Why, only the previous
week it had gone up again, that and many
other things. It was scandalous. How was a
body supposed to get by on those prices! If
only wages would go up as well, but there was
little likelihood of that.


'No, I'll leave it for the now,' she replied.
Bridie nodded and returned to her book. The Maid of Avalon was a humdinger in her
opinion.


*


Willie rolled off Georgina. 'That was wonderful,
darling. Thank you.'


'It was wonderful, thank you,' she lieU in the
darkness.


As was his custom, after every session of
lovemaking, he took her into his arms and held
her close, savouring the perfumed smell of her.


12


'Happy?' he queried softly.

'Completely.'

'That's fine then.'

'And you?'

'You know I am. Just being with you makes
me so.'

'It's the same with me.'

He released her. 'Goodnight then.'

'Goodnight.'

Georgina waited for him to turn on to his
side, facing away from her, as he always did.
She smiled cynically when that happened.

How predictable he was in bed, she thought.
How utterly, awfully predictable. Sometimes
she felt like screaming at just how predictable
he was.

She drew in a slow, deep breath, trying to
calm herself. Willie was the only man she'd
ever slept with. Was all lovemaking like theirs,
she wondered? She couldn't believe that to be
so. Surely there had to be some satisfaction in
it for the woman.

She'd asked him in the past to try and take
longer which he'd genuinely tried to do. To no
avail. Willie's clock was a fast one, hers slow.
His alarm bell always went off long before hers
was ready to ring.

She didn't love Willie, never had. Perhaps that
had something to do with it; she didn't know. If
only she had spmeone to talk to, to discuss the
matter with. But that sort of thing was never
spoken about in polite society, of which she was
most definitely a member.

Willie began to snore gently, informing her


13



he5d dropped off. Quickly, as again was alwaythe case. Other nights he might toss and turn
but never after they'd made love.

She thought of Harry. What would it hav
been like with him? The same as with Willie,
or different? That was something she'd nevei
find out.

Willie had asked her if she was happy anc
she'd lied by saying yes. Truth was, she wasn'i unhappy. Dissatisfied perhaps. Frustrated was
tfte word that came to mind. Frustrated that
when they joined it didn't give her anything
like the pleasure it gave him. It was as if she
was forever trying to climb a mountain but
never getting to the top, always being stoppe
halfway. Sometimes not even halfway.

She moved restlessly, knowing it would bfci
some while before sleep claimed her. She was
all on edge, a-jangle.

Should she or shouldn't she? She'd feelguilty after, a little soiled somehow. Guilty and ashamed.	It was only the previous year she'd discovered
she could do such a thing. The idea had simply
never entered her head until one particularly bad
night after Willie she'd found herself doing it
without thinking. And then ... oh the glorious
release, release that had made her gasp and
shake all over.


How fearful she'd been afterwards that Willie
might have realised, but he'd been asleep and
known nothing.


Her hand crept downwards to find herself.
She would, she decided.


14


*



Scan Flynn let himself into the house, pausing to
listen just inside the door. As he'd expected the
rest of the family were in the land of Nod.

He closed the door and then tiptoed through
to his bedroom. He groaned as he began to
undress. Christ, but he hurt. At least, as far as
he could tell, none of his ribs was broken, but
he'd be black and blue come morning.

He suddenly grinned, thinking of the other
two. What a pasting he'd given them. He'd be
sore tomorrow but not nearly as sore as that
Proddy pair. Hell mend the bastards.

It had been a good night he decided, though
he could have done without the rammy. And
trust him to be on his own, for once caught
without his pals around to help and back

him up.

He hadn't meant to jostle the Prod, it had
been an accident. But that hadn't stopped them
waiting outside the boozer and jumping him.

'Effing Prods,' he muttered. 'Effing bloody
Prods.'

He hated them.


*


Jock Gibson watched lan stride towards him and
smiled inwardly. He had a little treat planned
for lan's first day.

'Hello, Jock,' lan greeted the estate manager.

'During working hours I think it had better
be Mr Gibson,' Jock stated.


15



lan swallowed. Jock had always been Jock fc,
as long as he could remember. Even as a we
boy it had been Jock. 'I understand.'

'That would be best in the circumstances
don't you agree?'

lan nodded. 'Whatever you say Jo -- ,
Gibson.'
'Fine then.'
lan rubbed his hands together. 'So where d
I begin?'	i
*'I thought with the pigs. You'll be helping
mucking out. A filthy job I admit. But one thhas to be done.'
'Of course.'

'The lads there are expecting you, so of.
you go. I'll drop by later to see how you're
getting on.'

Pigs! lan thought ruefully as he walked away;
He'd never liked pigs. Nasty, unpredictable
creatures.

His nose wrinkled in disgust as he approachec
the first pen and he got a whiff of what la
ahead.


*


Bridie came hurrying up to Teresa and the pair
of them fell into step together.

'Another Monday morning and another week
at the lemonade factory Bridie groanfed. 'The
thought makes me sick.'

Teresa grinned at her friend. 'Oh come on,
it's not that bad.'

'Bad enough. It's the boredom that gets me


16

down more than anything. Ktpennon, repeuuuu,
repetition. Bottles into boxes, bottles into boxes,
bottles into boxes.'

'Well, if you're that cheesed off you could always ask the gaffer to shift you to another
part of the factory. That would make a change
if nothing else.'

'Fat chance of that. Do you not remember
Sheena McLaughlan tried that last year and got
told to get on with what she was doing in no
uncertain terms.'

Teresa pulled a face. 'Oh aye, I'd forgot.'
Tacking is where I started and where I'll no
doubt finish, whenever that might be.'

'When you find your Prince Charming you
mean?' Teresa teased.
'I suppose so.'

They walked a little way in silence. 'Are you
going to the dance next Saturday?' Teresa
queried. 'Who knows, you might meet Prince
Charming there.'

Bridie thought of the dance in question, a
local affair held once a month. She had about
as much chance of meeting Prince Charming
there as she had of flying to the moon. Still,
you never knew.

'I haven't decided yet.'

'There was a lad at the last one took my eye.
But he never asked me up.'
'You never,mentioned.'
Teresa shrugged.
'Nice, was he?'

'I've no idea as we never spoke. But he looked
nice enough. The shy type I'd say.'


17


'Not too many of those round here Bridie
commented. "They're a forward lot by and
large.'

'True enough.'

Bridie recalled the last dance they'd attended,
the one Teresa was referring to. She'd been
asked up far more times than Teresa, as was
usually the case. Teresa was verging on being
plain while she . . . well, she was hardly a
ravishing beauty but folk did say she had
'locks'.

'It'd be a laugh,' Teresa went on.
'Hardly that,' Bridie commented wryly.
'Well, where else do you want to go? There's
always the flicks, though you won't meet any
fellas there. You don't get a lumber at the
pictures.' Lumber meant meeting someone and
being escorted home.

'I don't really fancy the flicks either.'
'You're becoming a right stick in the mud, so
you are. I suppose you'd rather stay indoors on
a Saturday night with one of your books.'
Bridie didn't reply to that.
A few minutes later her heart sank when the
lemonade factory came into view.
'Here we go again,' Bridie muttered.
'Here we go,' Teresa agreed.


18


'Well, I'll be damned!' Willie exclaimed. He
was at the breakfast table sorting through the

morning post.

Georgina glanced up from her kipper. 'Bad

news, darling?'

Willie beamed at her. 'Quite the contrary. It's
from an old chum of mine who served alongside
me in the First Essex. He's going to pay us
a visit.'

'That's nice.'

Rose was the only other person at the table,
lan having long since gone to work.

Willie re-read the letter then laid it aside.
'It'll be wonderful seeing Andrew again. He's
a terrific chap.'

'You certainly sound enthusiastic,' Georgina

commented.

'How old is he?' Rose queried.

Willie considered that. 'About the same age
as me I suppose.' He suddenly chuckled. 'Far
too old for you, my poppet.'

Rose coloured slightly. 'That wasn't why I
asked at all.'

Willie regarded his daughter thoughtfully. He
sometimes regretted not having sent her off to
school as he had lan. Not that the various tutors
hadn't done a first-rate job, they had. It was
simply that she lacked a wider experience than
might have been otherwise.


19



'Is tills Andrew married?' Georgina inquired.

'Doesn't say. Certainly wasn't when in - the army. I recall he was engaged at one point, to
an Irish lass . . . ' He broke off and shook hisi
head. 'Sad business.'

'What happened?' a curious Rose asked.

Willie's expression became grim. 'She wasi
killed and let's just leave it at that. Andrew
was deeply hurt. Took it very badly indeed.'

This sounded intriguing Georgina thought,'
wohdering how the fiancee had been killed. 'So;
when's he coming?'

'Beginning of next month. He's not certain
about the actual date yet but will write again
when he is. In the meantime I shall write to
him saying we shall be delighted to have him
as a guest for as long as he wishes to stay.'

Willie paused, then said, 'Andrew is Drummond
of Drummond whisky. We must get some of
that for when he's here. Can't offer him another
brand now, can we?'

Til speak to Mrs Coltart and see it's
ordered,' Georgina declared. Mrs Coltart was
the housekeeper who did all the ordering and
buying for the household.

Willie leant back in his chair, breakfast
temporarily forgotten. 'It's six years since I
last saw him, I wonder if the old bugger's
changed much.'

'Willie!' Georgina admonished, nodding in
Rose's direction.

'Wouldn't it be fun if he'd gone bald or
something,' Willie chuckled. 'That would upset
him. He was always rather vain about his good


20

looks. Bald ana a pauucsif___

further.

'You're being evil,' Georgina chided.

'Quite the ladies' man I remember. Had an
easy way with them that I always envied. Myself
and quite a few others.'

Pity he was so old, Rose reflected. This
Andrew Drummond sounded fun.

Til write later today,' Willie announced.


*


'A gang of our own?' Noddy Gallagher repeated.

Scan nodded. 'Why not? There are enough of
us, to get started anyway.'

'All Catholics of course,' Sammy Renton


said.
Sean gave him a withering look. 'Of course,

you eejit. That would be the whole point.'

Sammy grunted.

'I like the idea,' Mo Binchy declared
thoughtfully. 'We could hardly rival the Billy
Boys or the Norman Conks yet. But who knows,


one day.'
Scan's eyes gleamed. Tve even got a name


for us.'

'Oh aye?' prompted Noddy.

Sean glanced from face to face. There were
ten of them present, huddled over cups of coffee
in an Italian cafe they frequented. All eyes were
glued on him3 something he was enjoying.

'The Samurai,' he stated proudly.

The response was blank stares.

'The what?' Bobby O'Toole queried.

21
CocQo H-CfeCSl OP _________

'The Samurai,' Scan repeated.

'And what the hell's that when it's at home?'
Scan's expression became one of superiority.
'You're a bunch of ignorant sods, so you are.
Samurai are Japanese warriors.'

'Is that a fact,' breathed Jim Gallagher,
Noddy's brother.


'How come you know that?' Mo queried
of Scan.

'I saw a picture all about them last year at the
Poxy Roxy. They have funny haircuts and carry
.bloody big swords which they use to cut their
enemies' heads off with. It was a rare film. I
took Maeve Dunphy, you know her with the
really big ones, and she got all upset with me.'
Scan laughed. 'Said I was more interested in the
film than I was in her.' He laughed a second
time. 'And she was right too.'

'Will we have to carry bloody big swords?'
Dan Smith queried, shivering at the prospect.
This was frightening and exciting at the same
time.

'Not to start with anyway,' Scan replied
slowly. 'I mean to say, Japanese swords aren't
exactly thick on the ground around Glasgow.
Perhaps we can eventually lay our hands on a
few though.'

'The Samurai,' Sammy Renton mused. 'It
certainly has a ring about it.'

A murmur of agreement ran round the group.

'If we're going to be a proper gang then we'll
need someplace to meet. If we gets lots of
members then this cafe will hardly do,' Sammy
went on.


22

Scan nodded. 'I've already thought oi that
too. You know that old condemned building
at the end of Thistle Street. The one they've
been going to pull down for years but never got
round to it. Well, how about there?'

'Would it no be dangerous, I mean, it's
condemned after all?' Mo Binchy queried.

Scan shot him a contemptuous look. 'Are you


feart? Is that it?'
Mo went quite red. 'Don't call me feart. I'm

nothing of the sort.'

'Well, I had a shufty round the other day
and it's all shored up inside. There's nothing
to worry about.'

'That settles that then,' Don McGuire stated

emphatically.

Noddy Gallagher cleared his throat. 'If we're
going to be a proper gang and all that we're
going to need a leader. A heid bummer so to

speak.'

Scan 'sat back in his chair and waited, not
wanting to put himself forward, confident
someone else would.

'That has to be Scan then,' Jim Gallagher
duly obliged. 'If he agrees that is.'

'What do you say, Scan?' Bobby O'Toole


queried.

'Is that what you all want?'
Another murmur of agreement ran round the

group.

Elation swelled in Scan. The leader of his own
gang, oh that was dandy indeed.

'So be it,' he declared.


23


*


'Would you care for a brandy, son?' Willie
inquired of lan sitting slumped on a sofa.

'You appear done in,' Georgina smiled.

,Ian nodded. 'I am. It's all this hard physical;
work that I'm not used to. It really takes it outof you.'

'You'll soon toughen up,' Willie commented,!
smHing also. 'Georgina dear, something for
you?'

She shook her head.

'And what about you, Rose?'

'A sherry would be lovely, Pa. Thank you.'

lan closed his eyes. He ached all over despite
the hot bath he'd wallowed in for over half an
hour. Toughen up, his pa had said. The soonerthe better.

'I'm thinking of planning a trip to Edinburgh,
darling,' Georgina informed Willie. 'I desperately
need some new clothes.'

Desperately, Willie thought wryly. Why, she
had wardrobes full of clothes.

'Can I come, Georgina?' Rose asked hopefully.
Sometimes Georgina took her on these trips but
on other occasions her stepmother preferred to
go on her own.

'Of course you can, Rose. We'll stay for
several days at least. How does that sound?'

'Exciting,' Rose beamed.

'And it'll be new clothes for you too.'

'Spiffing!'

Willie groaned inwardly. More expense!
Honestly, those two thought money grew on


24

trees. Still, if he was honest wltn niffiseit
he didn't really mind. He enjoyed indulging
the pair of them. What was money for after
all? As the saying went, you couldn't take it


with you.
When he came to hand lan his drink he found

he'd fallen fast asleep.


*


'He's going to ask you up,' Teresa whispered
excitedly. She and Bridie were at the local dance,
sitting side by side on two of the chairs that lined
the wall.

'Who?'

'Him coming over. The chap in the blue suit
and swanky tie.'

Bridie quickly picked out the young man
in question. He had a serious, determined
expression on his face as he carved his way
in their direction.

'How do you know it's me he's going to
ask?'

'He's been watching you for some time now.
I'm surprised you haven't noticed.'

Watching her indeed. She had another look at
the chap whom she'd never seen before. There
were lots of people present who were friends
and acquaintances or whom she recognised
as regulars to these dances. This was a new
face.

The chap came to stand in front of them.
'Hello,' he said, almost defiantly, to Bridie on
whom he was focusing his entire attention. For


25


some reason she found that a little disconcerting!
'Are you for up?'

The usual charming proposal, Bridie though!
wryly. She slowly rose. 'That would be nice.'

'Right then.'

They took a position on the floor, the bane
struck up, and he swept her into his arms. Ti
Bob,' he stated.

'And I'm Bridie.'

He wasn't a bad dancer, she thought. Noi
brilliant but not bad either.

'Do you live round here?' he queried.

'Near by. And you?'

'Not that far away. Walkable, you understand?'i

She nodded. 'I haven't seen you here before?*

'That's right. I usually go into town to the
Locarno. It was a pal suggested we come tonight
and I thought, why not for a change?'

'Good band,' she commented.

'Aye, fair enough. Not a patch on the ones
at the Locarno, mind. They're something else.
Ever been there?'


'You mean the Locarno? No, I'm afraid I
haven't.'

'Maybe I'll take you some time.'

Bridie laughed. 'You are quick off the mark.
What makes you think I'll stay up for a
second dance far less go to the Locarno with
you?'

'Because of my devastating charm and wit,'
he flashed back in reply.

Bridie laughed again. 'I can tell you're the
modest type.'

'Modesty never got you anywhere, that's my


26

Relief.' He suddenly gave her a fttige smiie.
'You're lovely, so you are. A real cracker. But
then you must have been told that hundreds of

times before.'

'Are you taking the mickey?'

He detached a hand from her waist and waved
it over his chest. 'Cross my heart and hope to
die if I'm doing that. I mean it, you're a cracker
all right. The best-looking lassie here tonight in


my opinion.'
'Flattery will get you everywhere,' she replied


somewhat coyly.
'That's what I'm hoping, Bridie. That's what


I'm hoping.'
When he asked her to remain on for the next

dance she, fascinated, agreed.


*


'Well, goodnight then the pair of you,' Teresa
said to Bridie and Bob, Bridie having insisted
that Teresa accompany them while Bob walked

her home.

'Goodnight,' Bridie and Bob answered in

unison.

Teresa giggled before turning and hurrying
into her close -- the entranceway into her
Glasgow tenement.

Bridie and Bob, hand in hand, continued on

their way.

'At last I've got you to myself,' Bob said.

What a character, Bridie thought. Despite his
bumptiousness she rather liked him. And would
go out with him if asked.


27



A few minutes later they reached Bridie's clos
which was lit with soft yellow gaslight.

"This is it,' she declared.

Bob glanced into the close then back at he
giving her another of his broad, disarmii
smiles. 'We can't stand here, shall we
inside?'

She'd already decided about that as well. 'a right.'

We'll go through to the back close,' he sai
'There's mo*e privacy there.'

Bridie wasn't so sure about that. The ba
close, an area out of sight of the rest of
close, was for serious snogging while a quic
kiss was what she had in mind.

'I've only just met you,' she whispered.

'So what! I feel like I've known you a
my life.'

And with that he tugged her in the directioi
of the back close.


*


'So how did it go?' Teresa demanded as Bridie
joined her. It was Monday morning again anc
the pair of them were on their way to the
lemonade factory.

Bridie's face hardened. 'If you're referring to;
that Bob, I stupidly went into the back close with
him which turned out to be a terrible mistake.
The man is an animal.'

They fell into step, hurrying on their way.

'What happened?'

'Before I knew it he had me pinned against


28

pie wall with his tongue sorar uuwn mj =,
If honestly thought I was going to choke. His
hands were everywhere, and I mean everywhere.


jt was horrible.'
Teresa's eyes were wide as saucers. 'How


awful.'

'It was, believe me. At one point I thought
he was going to rip the front of my dress.
Completely ruin it.'

'So what did you do?' Teresa couldn't wait


to hear.

'He was far too strong for me to push off
so when he finally got his tongue out of my
mouth I told him if he didn't stop I'd scream
the place down and then he'd have my father
and brother to deal with. And that they were
both real hard nuts.'
'So did he stop?'

'Sort of. He was full of apologies, saying he
didn't know what had come over him and all
that guff. But even as he was telling me that he
was still touching me. He even tried to get his
hand up my skirt.'

'An animal right enough,' Teresa agreed with


a nod.
Td only just met him, for God's sake. What


did he take me for?'
'Some blokes,' Teresa sympathised, shaking


her head.

'It was so unromanuc, Teresa,' Bridie complained
bitterly. 'There was no tenderness or affection.
Nothing like that at all. Just sheer lust. He was

like a maniac.'

'Well, that's the end of him.'


29


'You're darned tooting.'
'He seemed such a nice chap too.'
'It only goes to show how you can misjuc
people.'

'Aye Teresa agreed. 'Aye indeed.'


*


Georgina glanced out of the tea-room windc
at the castle dominating the Edinburgh skyli
She and Rose were having a break during rl first day's shopping.


'My feet hurt Rose stated, emphasising
by pulling a fa*ce.


Georgina brought her attention back to
stepdaughter. 'Badly?'

'Oh, I'll survive.'

'I hope so. We've a lot more to do todai
She paused, then said, 'If they really are th
bad you can go back to the hotel and we'll me
up again later.'

'Oh no!' Rose exclaimed in sudden alarq

'Being here is such a treat I don't want to mi

out on a moment of it.'	
Or miss getting something, Georgina though

Something she entirely understood.

Rose reached out and picked a cream cat

from the stand in the centre of the table. 'Thes

are so yummy she declared.	I

Georgina frowned at her. 'Do you really thin

you should? It is your third after all.'

30

Rose averted her gaze. 'I said coming t
Edinburgh was such a treat and this is pi of it.'


t,'Hmmh Georgina mused, studying her
tepdaughter. i do believe you're putting on


iore weight.'
'I'm doing nothing of the sort Rose

protested.

'Oh yes you are, and you know it. You really
should learn to curb your appetite, young lady.
You'd have an extremely good figure if only
you'd learn to look after it.'

Rose placed the cake on her plate and studied
it. Should she or shouldn't she? It was such a


temptation.
'You want to be popular with the young men,

don't you?'

Rose nodded.

'Well, stuffing yourself full of cakes isn't the
way to accomplish that.'

It was true, Rose reflected miserably. Trouble
was she had such a sweet tooth, and a liking for
food in general. If she ate the way Georgina did,
like a bird, she'd end up starving all the time.
Where was the pleasure in that?

'Of course some men do prefer plumper
ladies, it can't be denied. But in my experience
they're in the minority.'

That made Rose feel even more wretched.
With a sigh she pushed her plate away. 'There
she declared.

Georgina nodded her approval.


*


n the dot of eleven o'clock everything came
to a halt for the morning break. Bridie reached


31


for her flask. A cup of tea "would be a welcc
relief.

Teresa came hurrying over. 'Have you he
Bridie frowned. 'Heard what?'

'The whisper has been going round si
early on. A number of staff have been  the push. Nobody seems to know exactly
many yet.'

Bridie was shocked. 'The push?'
 Teresa nodded vigorously.

Sally Dunn and Vicky Grieve, co-worl
joined them. 'What's that you're saying, Tei
We couldn't help but overhear.'

Teresa repeated herself.

Sally and Vicky were as visibly shocke
Bridie. 'But why?' Vicky demanded.

'It seems sajes have been, falling away
the past few months and as a result it's
decided to have a cut-back on staff.'

Bridie's flask and tea were forgotten. This ,
terrible news. The worst. For what happened
sales fell even further? More staff for the cl
was the inevitable conclusion.


'Do we know who these people are?' Si asked.


Teresa shook her head. 'Though I imawe'll find out at dinnertime,'

Bridie loathed her job at the lemonade factc
but it was a job and a wage coming into
house. Who knows how long: it would take .,
to find another job should she lose this of
They were hard to come by.

'It makes you think, doesn.'t it,' Teresa sai

'Aye,' Vicky breathed. In would hit


32

jcularly hard to be laid off as she lived
ie with a crippled mother.
PThey continued speculating amongst themes
until it was time to resume work.


*


BOo-al! Coal!'

IfsPat Flynn scanned the surrounding tenements

r the cards issued by his firm which, when

iced in a window, told him that coal was

jded. He reined in Jasper, his horse, when vm spotted one.
j 9-With a sigh Pat tied off then jumped to
tfte ground. This particular customer, a Mrs
Itichanan, was a new one, she and her husband
having only moved into the area a few months
previously.

iHe manoeuvred a bag on to the side of the
cart then heaved it on to his back, a back
protected by a thick leather pad.
i Into the close he went and up four flights
where he found Mrs Buchanan waiting for him
with the door open.

'Just put it in the bin,' she instructed.

There was the usual swirl of dust as the
coal thudded into the almost empty wooden
bin situated inside the kitchen.

Pat shook out the bag. 'One or two?' he
queried.

'Just the one. I'll go and get my purse.'

Pat's reply was a grunt.

Mrs Buchanan made to move away then
stopped as though she'd suddenly remembered


33


something. Turning again to Pat she smileo'I'm sorry to be in my dressing-gown. It's quit
lazy of me at this time of the morning.'

Pat shrugged. 'Nothing new to me, missus
You see all sorts in this job. You'd be surprised
'I suppose you do.' She clutched the dressing
gown more tightly about her. 'I'll find thpurse.'	'.
Good-looking woman. Pat reflected wheshe'd disappeared from view. Lovely pins, fror
what he'd been able to see of them. An unusua
face too, brown eyes and blonde hair. You didn'
come across that combination very often. horn
old? Early thirties, he judged. Strange ther wasn't any sign of children. There was invariably
some evidence knocking about. Maybe th Buchanans couldn't have any.


Mrs Buchanan returned with a ten-shilling
note. 'I'm afraicU this is all I have. Have yoi
got change?'

'Oh aye, plenty of that.'	s
He delved into the leather bag that dangled

from his waist and was soon giving her what she

was due.	' He noted the peculiar expression on her face
and wondered about it. She seemed quite

mesmerised.


'There we are then,' he declared when the
transaction was complete.
'Thank you, Mr . . . ?'
'Flynn.'
'An Irish name.'


'Aye, we are that. Second generation in both
my case and my wife's.'


34


'You're married then.'

'With three children. The oldest is nineteen.'

'Quite grown up.' She smiled.

'He is that.'

'And the others?'

She was chatty, he thought. 'Two lassies.
Bridie and Alison.'

Mrs Buchanan nodded, while her eyes strayed
briefly to his wrists. Something he didn't fail to
notice.

Td better get on my way then,' he stated.

'Of course. I'm holding you back.'

'Not at all.'

And with that he headed for the front door.

'Bye!' Mrs Buchanan called out as she was
closing the door.

'Bye!'

Odd woman, he thought as he remounted his cart. Though exactly why he couldn't have
said. Perhaps it was that peculiar expression he'd
noted. And why glance at his wrists the way
she had?

They were perfectly ordinary wrists as far as
he was concerned!


*


Pat sat studying Kathleen who was busy darning
socks. She hadn't aged all that well, he thought.
Her hair wasshot through with grey and pulled
back in a tight bun from her lined face. She'd
also put on considerable weight since their
marriage. Her bosoms were far larger than
they'd been then and sagging now where before


35


they'd been tight and firm.

Well, what did you expect after having, an
nursing, three weans? Of course that took it
toll. Stood to reason after all.

He wasn't exactly a spring chicken himself anf
more. Far from it. And as for a lined face, yeai
out in all weathers had left its mark. His hwas still jet black though, he reminded himseproudly. And lots of it. There was no thinnin
r receding he was glad to say.

'Penny for them?' Kathleen queried, glancinacross at him.

'Eh?'

'Penny for them.'

He pursed his mouth and shook his head
'Only day-dreaming, that's all.'

'About?'

'Nothing in particular. Just day-dreaming.'

And with that he picked up the evening papei
from his lap and again immersed himself in it.
'In the pink. And all the better for seeing


you.'

Willie chuckled. 'Come on in and meet
everyone. With the exception of my son lan,
that is. You'll meet him later.'

'Jolly good.'

Willie's arm went round Andrew's shoulders
and they mounted the long line of stone steps
that led them to the massive oak door.


*


'Andrew!'

Andrew shut the car door and strode to meet
his friend. The pair of them warmly shook
hands.

'Welcome to The Haven,' Willie declared.

Andrew glanced over Willie's shoulder at the
pile called The Haven and thought it even more
magnificent than Drummond House. In fact in
some ways it reminded him of ... He swiftly
put that memory from his mind.

'So how are you, old bean?' Willie queried.


36


37



3


'I know it's early but how about a drink?' Willie?
queried, rubbing his hands together. 'It's not!
every day a chum I haven't seen for yearsi
turns up.'

The four of them were assembled in the;
drawing room, Willie having already made thei
introductions.

'Not for me, Willie. But a little soda water
would be nice,' Georgina replied.

Rose thought of the conversation she'd had
with her stepmother in the Edinburgh tea room.
'Same for me, Pa, thank you.'

'And what about you, Andrew?'

'Whisky if you have it.'

'I not only have it, I have Drummond.'

Andrew laughed. 'That would be excellent.'

Willie busied himself with the drinks. He'd
also have whisky.

'Can I ask what brings you to this part of the
country?' Georgina queried of Andrew.

'Business. I'm en route to visit a few people.
I'm a great believer in the personal touch, can
work wonders in my opinion.'

'I understand. Willie tells me this is your first
time at The Haven.'

'That's right. I should have been before
but . . . ' He shrugged. 'Something always got
in the way.'

'I hope this business of yours isn't too


38

pressing,' Willie said. 'We're hoping you'll stay


a few days.'
Andrew hadn't planned on that. The night

yes, but not a few days.

'Oh please do,' Georgina urged.

Andrew considered. 'Do you have the telephone
here?'

'We do indeed,' Georgina replied.

'Then I shall make several calls later today
and give you my answer afterwards.'

'Splendid.'

What a handsome, dashing man, Rose was
thinking. He certainly didn't look as old as her
father, but considerably younger. In fact Andrew was younger by six years.

There was something dangerous about Andrew
Drummond, Rose decided. That was apparent
even on this short acquaintance. He wasn't a
man to be trifled with.

Willie handed Georgina and Rose their soda
waters then returned for the whiskies.

'Are you married now, Andrew?' Willie
inquired. 'You never mentioned in your letters.'

A lopsided, slightly cynical smile twisted
Andrew's mouth. 'No I'm not. That's just

never happened.'

Willie regarded Andrew thoughtfully. 'Pity.'

Andrew, still smiling, shrugged.

Willie changed the subject. 'So what have you
been doing, 'apart from running your distillery
that is? And which I'm sure you're being most

successful at.'

Andrew accepted the glass Willie gave him.
'Not a lot, to tell the truth. The distillery


39



takes up most of my time.'

'But you must do something else?' Georginqueried with a frown.

'A bit of this, bit of that. I shoot on occasioi
and have even been known to use a fly rod.'

'And socially?'

'I used to receive quite a few invitationsbut rarely nowadays. I simply never took thei up.'

*You have changed,' Willie mused, sitting
down beside his wife.

'I suppose so.'

'Willie says you were quite the ladies' man a one time.'

Willie shot his wife a warning look which she
chose to ignore.

'I suppose I was,' Andrew confessed. 'But that
was in my salad days.'

'Surely you'll have to get married sometime,'!
Georgina went on. 'You'll need a son and heir
to pass the distillery on to.'

'There is that,' Andrew acknowledged. 'It isa matter I have given some thought. But until
the right woman comes along ... ' He trailed
off and had a sip of whisky. 

'You were engaged once I understand. But
your fiancee died.'

This time the look Willie gave Georgina was
withering.

'That's correct.'

Georgina waited for Andrew to continue, but
he didn't.

'I say, how are those sisters of yours?' Willie
asked, again changing the subject. He was


40

F

furious with Georgina for trying to probe.

'Fine,' Andrew replied. 'Charlotte married the
local minister and they now have two children.
They're very happy. Nell is also married with a
brood of her own.'

'Good for them,' Willie enthused.
'Charlotte keeps an eye on the distillery for
me when I go off on these occasional trips of
mine. She ran it by herself for a while after Pa
died and I was still in Ireland.'

'By herself!' Rose exclaimed. 'She must be an
extraordinary woman.'

'She is. A very determined and resourceful
lady. I have every admiration for her.'

'I thought I might give you a tour of the estate
after lunch,' Willie proposed.

Td like that.'

'Not all of it of course. You'd have to stay a
week for that. It is rather large.'

'And thriving I trust?'

'Oh, very much so.'

'He works ever so hard,' Georgina stated.
'Too hard at times in my opinion.'

'I'm afraid it has to be done. However, I'll
soon have lan to help and that'll take something
of the burden off my shoulders.'

'Did you enjoy Ireland, Mr Drummond?'
Rose asked.

'Andrew, please.'

Rose blushed. 'Andrew then.'

'Yes, I did. In retrospect that is. At the time
I wasn't so sure.'	';.;.

'I loved it,' Willie declared. 'Dublin is such
an exciting city. It positively throbs.' He smiled


41


at Andrew. 'We have a great deal of reminiscini
to do.'

'Indeed.'

'Do you remember . . . '


*


'He's a very sad and lonely man,' Georgina sail
to Willie that night after they'd retired.
'That's the impression I got.'

'Fun though. I enjoyed his company.'

'I thought you did.'

Georgina paused in her undressing. 'What di
happen to his fiancee, Willie?'

Willie glanced away. 'That's something I thinl
Andrew should tell you himself. Which I doubt
he will. You could see how touchy he is on the
subject.'

'I'm intrigued, darling. Positively intrigued.'

'Then you'll just have to stay that way. I'n
not willing to discuss the matter. Let's just!
say it was all bound up in The Troubles over
there.'

'The Troubles?' she repeated, her tone!
innocence itself. She was probing again.

But Willie wasn't taken in. He knew his wife
only too well. 'And that's an end to it,' fte stated
firmly.

Her curiosity was killing her. But when
Willie spoke like that nothing would budge
him.

He could be such an obstinate man.


*
42

Rose crawled beneath the sheets and lay back to
think about Andrew Drummond. What a pity he
was so old. Ten years younger and . . . Well,

who knew.

Closing her eyes she conjured up a picture
of him. Recalling the way he smiled, the habit
he had of flicking back a lock of hair when
it dropped over his forehead. The delicate
hands that had a somewhat feminine quality
about them. The only thing that was feminine

about him.

With a sigh she opened her eyes again,
knowing she was going to have trouble sleeping.
Andrew Drummond had disturbed her in a way
no other man, of whatever age, had ever done
before.


*


'Andrew!'
He turned to find Rose tripping towards him.


'Hello.'
'Hello as well,' she said on reaching his side.

'Do you mind if I join you?'
'Not at all. I was just admiring those roses.'
She glanced at the roses in question. 'They

are rather splendid, aren't they. Do you like

gardens?'	i b
He gazed about him. 'Very much so. I find

them, especially when the flowers are in bloom,

extremely relaxing.'

'Do you have one at your house?'

'A number actually. I take great delight in

strolling amongst them whenever I can.'


43



Strolling alone, she thought. 'I should like t
see them one day.' Now that could be construe
as being forward, she chided herself.

'And so you shall. It was already in my mil
to invite the family to Drummond House. T
repay your hospitality for having me here.'

Andrew bent and smelled a rose. 'BeautifuU
he murmured.

As he was, she thought.

*'I have a friend in Dalneil, that's the villaf
where I live, who sits for hours in his gardei
when the weather's clement. It's his favourit
place. Only a small garden, mind you, as hi
lives in a cottage, but he says it inspires him.'!

'Inspires?'

Andrew smiled. 'Jack is a writer. And prel
successful too. He's had several plays on in th
West End of London, one also in New York.:

'I say. How thrilling!'

'Jack almost went to see the New Yorf
production, but in the end didn't.' Andre
paused. 'Did I say see? I meant listen to, foi
Jack's blind.'

'How awful for him,' Rose sympathised. 'Has
he been blind from birth?'

'No, it happened during the war on theiWestern Front. Your father and I were lucky!
in being posted to Ireland for the duration. Jackand my elder brother Peter were the, unlucky
ones. Peter was killed and Jack not only blinded
but horribly scarred on the face.'

'Your elder brother. Does that mean he would
have inherited the distillery?'

Andrew nodded. 'It was always his by right.


44

Fj had a career in the army planned, but of
course all that changed when Peter bought it. His death literally broke my father's heart. He
dropped down dead when he received the official

telegram.'
Rose covered her mouth. 'That's ghastly.'

'Peter was Father's favourite, between the pair
of us I mean. I believe Pa always considered me
the black sheep of the family.'

'Surely not?'

Memories came flooding back. 'Oh yes, I'm
afraid so. And he was quite right. I was a bit
of a bounder when younger. More than a bit
when I come to think of it.'

That only added to his charm she decided.
'But you're a changed man now?'

Was he? Perhaps. Perhaps not. It was said that
leopards never change their spots after all.

'That's for others to judge. Not me.'

Rose stared at his finely chiselled features,
then glanced away as an emotion she'd never
experienced before trembled inside her.

'Was Peter much older than you?' She was
being crafty here. At least so she hoped.

'Two years.'

'And how old would he have been now?'

'Why, eh ... Forty I suppose.'

Which told her what she wanted to know.
Andrew was thirty-eight, twenty years older than
herself. An insurmountable barrier? Not really in
her opinion, though many would have thought
so. Father had been wrong about Andrew's age,
Willie being forty-four.

'Do you miss him?'


45



Andrew considered that. 'Yes I do. We wen
never very close, but he was my brother whei
all's said and done. Yes I miss him. Though
have to say Jack Riach has been far more of
brother to me than Peter ever was.'

'You're very fond of this Jack, aren't you?'

'Extremely. He and his wife Hettie have beei
good to me. I can drop by there any time an
be welcome for a meal or whatever. Jack and
trj to go once a week to the local pub together
We invariably have a good laugh.'

'I've never met a writer,' Rose stated. 'Bul
then what do you expect being born and brough
up on the estate. It's very limiting, you know
'You shall meet Jack and his wife Hetti
when you come to Drummond House, that'!
a promise.'

'Thank you,' she smiled.	I

'Hettie used to work for Jack when h
farmed. A farm he sold after he lost his sight
and couldn't personally run it any more. He
adored that place and yet he sold it. I cai
understand why.'

'And what did Hettie do for him?'

Andrew gave a small laugh. 'She was a daii
maid. A real down-to-earth country lass if evei
there was. The pair of them are a strange!
combination, but it works. They idolise oneanother.'

'Would you care to walk for a whife?' Roseasked.

Andrew frowned. 'I really should be getting
back to the house. Willie will be wonderin*
where I've got to.'


46

She tried not to show her disappointment.
'A short walk then? Just enough to stretch

the legs.'

He conceded. 'A short walk it is. And during
it you can tell me all about yourself.'

She laughed. 'I've already explained, there's


very little to tell.'
Pretty girl, he thought. If a trifle overweight.


Nice personality too.
They walked for longer than Andrew had

intended.


*


'Now don't forget,' Andrew said to William.
'You'll come to Drummond House.'

'In the winter when things are quieter round
here. You have my word.'

The two men shook hands.

'I really have enjoyed myself. Thank you

all.'

'It was a pleasure having you, Andrew,'
Georgina declared. They'd come out to see
Andrew off, with the exception of lan who was


working.
Did he know her well enough? Andrew

decided he did. Going to Georgina, he pecked

her on the cheek. 'You've been most kind.'
'Not at all. As I said, it was our pleasure.'
He turned to Rose who was finding his

departure a terrible wrench. Andrew Drummond

-had made a big impression on her. A very big
impression indeed. She'd have given anything

*r him to be staying longer and couldn't wait


47



for the proposed visit to Drummond House.
'Goodbye, Rose.'
'Goodbye, Andrew.'

Disappointment flooded her when he startc
towards the car. 'Don't I get a kiss as well?'

'I say!' Willie exclaimed. 'Where's yoi
modesty, girl?'

Rose blushed deeply. 'I'm sorry. I didn't me*
to offend.'

vYou didn't offend at all,' Andrew declare!
gallantly. 'I'm the one at fault.' And with ths
he returned to Rose and kissed her as he'd kiss
Georgina.

'Thank you, lovely miss,' he smiled, amuseby her continuing blushes.

'Have a safe journey,' Willie said.

'I'm sure I shall.'

Andrew climbed into the Rolls and woun
down his window. 'Here we go then.'

He started the car which purred sweetly int
life. 'Toodeloo!' He waved.

It was with a heavy heart that Rose turnec
towards the house. It might have been a shoi
acquaintance but she'd miss Andrew dreadfully.;

Once inside she headed for her room, wanting
to be alone.


*


Scan Flynn gazed about him, taking in the
flickering candles illuminating the room of the
condemned house they'd taken over as their
own. There were ancient curtains on the window,
closed to ensure their privacy, while a number off


48

broken-down sofas and chairs provided seating.
It was hardly the Ritz but suitable for their

purposes.

'Home from home,' he breathed, which raised

a laugh from the others present.

'Some home,' Don McGuire commented,
raising another laugh.

Mo Binchy gingerly sat on one of the sofas,
liberated from a dump, in case it collapsed under
his weight. 'What now?' he queried.

Scan focused on him. 'How do you mean?'

'I mean, what now? Where do we go from

here, O leader?'

'Less of your bloody sarcasm. Don't you know

it's the lowest form of wit.'

'That's me,' Mo riposted. 'Real low life.'
Scan produced a cut-throat razor which he'd

stropped before coming out. 'I think we should

have a gang insignia. Our own mark so to

speak.'

Sammy Renton frowned. 'What sort of mark?'

Til show you.'

Scan took off his jacket and dropped it to the
floor. He then partially rolled up the left sleeve
of his shirt. 'A cross right here,' he declared,
indicating a patch just above his wrist.

Sammy swallowed hard.

'Done with that razor?' Noddy Gallagher

queried.

Scan nodded.

That was greeted with a deathly silence.

Til go first,' Scan proposed. 'Once marked
you're in the gang for life. And no one can be
a gang member without it.'


49



'Christ,' Jim Gallagher whispered.

Sean did it quickly. One deep stripe wa
instantly followed by a second. Blood spurte
from the cuts and ran down his hand.

Sean stared triumphantly at them. 'Who'l
next?'

There were no takers.

'Come on, you bunch of Jessies. Who's next?f

Don McGuire came forward. 'See's that razoi
Sedn.'

When they left the house a little later all bor
the mark of the Samurai on their left arm.


*


'Have you heard the latest?' a clearly worriec
Vicky Grieve queried of Bridie and Teresa as
they arrived in the cloakroom where they huntheir coats, exchanging them for the large white
aprons they wore while working.

'What's that?' Bridie asked.

"The rumour is there's to be more sackings.'

Teresa swore. 'Are you sure?'

'It's only a rumour, mind. That's all I
know.'

Bridie bit her lip.

'What'll I do if I lose my job?' Vicky choked.
'God help me if I do, what with my ma
and that.'

This was a worry, Bridie thought. A real
worry. 'Sales must have dropped again.'

'If the rumour's true,' Teresa added. 'It
might just be a right load of rubbish. Someone
said something that was overheard wrongly


50

and passed on the same way. That could be

all it is.'

'Aye,' Bridie agreed.

'Whatever,' Teresa went on. 'We'd better get
moving. I for one don't want to be late on the
floor with the rumour of possible sackings flying
about. I don't want to give them any excuses to


pick on me.'
The three of them quickly changed and

hurried from the cloakroom.


*


Ellen should be along any minute now, Andrew
thought, staring up at the ceiling. He was eager
for her presence, and body.

It was Jack Riach who'd given him the idea
one night when they were talking in the pub.
Jack had been worried about his 'wellbeing', as

Jack had called it.

Andrew had been amused when Jack had
come out with the suggestion, further amused
by Jack's embarrassment.

'What made you think of that?' he'd asked.

'I heard of someone else who'd come to the
same arrangement,' Jack had lied in reply, not
wanting Andrew to know that the arrangement
had been between him and Hettie when she'd
been his dairy maid.

'One of trie servant lassies?' Andrew had

repeated.

'Perfect, if you fancy one that is and she'll
comply. You'd have to be careful in picking
the right one. One who'll keep her mouth shut


51


whether she agrees or not.'

Andrew had considered that a wise piece
advice.

He brought himself out of his reverie an
yawned. What was keeping the damned girl
He wanted her and he wanted her now.

Andrew smiled in the darkness. Ellen Templ
had been the only one he'd approached and
good choice it had been. He'd read her charactt
correctly. Underneath that prim exterior lay
natural tart. And so it had proved.

A deal had been struck. An agreed sum paic
once a month and the assurance that she'd b
well taken care of should she fall pregnant.

How long had it been now? Just over a yearAndrew reflected. A year of having access tdher body whenever he wished it. And a finef
body it was too, a body she was enthusiastic
in using. Just as she'd been enthusiastic aboutl
learning all the little tricks and refinements he'dtaught her.

Andrew's ruminations were disturbed when;
his bedroom door opened and a shadowy figure
slipped inside. The door was closed as silently
as it had been opened.

The shadowy figure flitted to the side of his
bed where Ellen dropped her dressing-gown to
the floor. Still wearing her nightdress, which
would soon be removed, she got in beside
Andrew and snuggled up.

'I was beginning to think you'd gone off me.
You've been back a whole week without giving
me the nod until tonight.'
His hand sought out a breast. 'I haven't been


52

in the mood, that's all.'

'Are you certain about that?' she queried

anxiously.

'Absolutely.'

She sighed with relief. The last thing she
wanted was to lose this added income. An
added income that would one day release her
from the life of service she so loathed.

Strictly business, Andrew thought, that was
the nice thing about their arrangement. He
didn't have to pretend to be romantic in

any way.

'If you weren't in the mood before you
certainly are now,' she whispered as his hardness
pressed into her.

'Let's get you out of this,' he whispered in
reply, always preferring her to be naked when
in bed with him.

The nightdress was removed and tossed aside.


*


Kathleen Flynn shook Bridie's shoulder. 'Time

to be up, lass.'

Bridie groaned as she came awake. She never
liked getting up in the morning. Especially when
she had work to go to.

Tm dead beat,' she declared. 'Alison has kept
me awake most of the night.'

Bridie and her younger sister Alison shared a
cavity bed in the kitchen. This was a peculiar
Glasgow device, a bed set in a wall recess looking
rather like a cave.

'Why's that?'

53

'She's got another cold. Hour after hour sh
was sniffing and snorting. And talk about beinrestless!'


'I'm sorry Alison wailed from underneath the
covers. 'I couldn't help it.' She popped her heat,
into view. Her eyes were puffed and streaming
her nose quite red.

Kathleen placed her hands on her hips an
studied her youngest child. 'I don't know how
you manage it, young lady. If it's not one thinthat's wrong with you it's another.'	

Alison clutched the bedclothes to her chin'It's not my fault. Ma. I don't ask to get ill alii
the time.'	i


'You manage it nonetheless,' Bridie retorted!
caustically.


Kathleen leant across Bridie and felt Alison's
forehead. 'Aye, you've got a temperature right
enough.'

'I'm sorry,' Alison repeated.

Bridie lay back and closed her eyes. She was
so tired that for two pins she'd have taken the
day off work. But that was something she daren't
do. Fourteen people had now had the sack at the
factory and she didn't want to be amongst the
next batch if there was one. And if what she
heard was true, that sales were still dropping,
there could well be.

'You'd better get a move on, Bridie, before
your father and Scan come through.'

Uttering another groan Bridie swung her feet
out of bed. It was the same every morning,
Kathleen was up first, then Bridie so that she'd
be dressed before her father and brother came


54

through to shave and have their breakfast, which
was invariably a cup of tea and thick slice of

bread.

Bridie padded to the sink where she splashed
cold water on her face. A quick dry and
then back to her clothes which she began to

put on.

'I feel like death warmed up,' she complained.

Alison was about to say, 'And you look it',
then thought perhaps not in the circumstances.
'Can I have a hanky please, Ma?' she asked
instead. 'I had to make do with my sleeve
during the night.'

'Of course, lassie. Of course.'

'I just hope you haven't given me your rotten
cold,' Bridie admonished her sister. That would
be disastrous.


55



4


Mrs Buchanan was waiting for Pat by her dooi
'Good morning to you, Mr Flynn,' she smilec

Pat's reply, weighed down as he was with
bag of coal, was a grunt.

fc'Come away in,' she said, leaving the doo
open as she followed him into the kitchen.

What a glamour puss, Pat was thinking as h
filled the bin. She was all done up like a disl
of fish.


'Just the one again?' he queried, shaking out
the bag.

'That's right.' The smile so far hadn't left hei
face. 'Are you in a hurry, Mr Flynn?'

He frowned. 'Why do you ask?'

'I wondered if you had time for a bottle oi
beer. My husband left some behind when he;
went away and I never touch it. I will have a wee
whisky on occasion, but never beer. Filthy stuL
in my opinion.' She laughed, a tinkling sound.

Pat had never refused a free alcoholic anything!
in his life. 'That would be nice,' he replied, also
smiling.

'Right then.'

She delved into a cupboard and produced a
screwtop. Til just get a glass to go with it,' she
declared, handing him the bottle.

Pat wasn't fussed whether he had a glass or
not. He watched her as she opened another
cupboard. Classy piece right enough, he thought.


56

She didn't half look smart in her warpaint.

'Dougal, that's my husband, is in the Royal
Navy. When he goes to sea it can be for months

on end.'

Pat accepted the glass from her. 'That
wouldn't suit me at all,' he said, making
conversation.

'Dougal loves it. Joined when he was only
fifteen. He was at the Battle of Jutland you
know.'

'Really.'

'Lost quite a few of his mates there. But he
was fortunate to come through all right. That
was the only action he ever saw. What about
yourself, Mr Flynn, were you in the war?'

'Wasn't nearly everyone,' Pat replied softly.

'Did you see action?'

Awful memories crowded his mind. Vividly
recalling that particular day when he'd come
within a whisker of ... 'Oh aye, I saw a bit.'

'Which regiment were you in?'

'The HLI. Highland Light Infantry. And a
better bunch of blokes you'll go a long way
to find.'

Pat had a long pull of beer. 'That's grand
stuff,' he declared, wiping froth from his mouth.
'It sure hits the spot.'

Mrs Buchanan stared in fascination at the
wrist of the Jiand he'd used where thick tufts
of hair jutted; from under his cuff. Her mouth
went dry thinking what the rest of him would
belike. Should be like.

'Mrs Buchanan?'

She started. 'Sorry, I was lost in thought there


57



for a moment.' The smile returned. 'Somethii
IVe got to do later she lied.

Pat topped up his glass, the smell of the heal
perfume she was wearing strong in his nostrils,
was a pleasant smell, very feminine. He couk __
remember the last time Kathleen had woi
scent or perfume. He found himself comparii
Kathleen and Mrs Buchanan. There was
contest, Mrs Buchanan won hands down.
v 'I'm Geraldine by the way.' 'Oh aye.'

She raised a well-plucked eyebrow in anticipate
Tat,' he said slowly. 'Short for Patrick
course.'
'Of course.'

He couldn't resist himself. 'My wife's call
Kathleen. As Irish as Pat and Flynn.'

Geraldine's smile became slightly razored. Sh
didn't reply to that.

Pat saw off what remained in his glass anc
then emptied the bottle into it. 'This is certainl
going down well. I had quite a thirst on me. It's
the coal you see, it gets in your throat.'

Offer him another, she wondered? Anc
decided not to. She mustn't be too pushy. Thai
might scare him off. 'How are the children?' she
inquired.

'Och, the wee lass's got a bad cold. There's
always something wrong with that one.'

'I'm sorry to hear so. Alison isn't it?'

He nodded. 'That's right.'

She swallowed hard when a tuft of hair

suddenly popped up from underneath his collar.

Now she knew for certain. God, how she


58

r

tdored hairy men, the hairier the better. Hair
Covering their chests, their backs, their bottoms.


Hair ...

'Well, that's that,' Pat declared, laying the
empty glass to one side. 'Thank you very much,
Geraldine. It was most appreciated.'

'I'm sure you deserve a little treat.' The treat
she had in mind wasn't beer.

'I'll see you next time then.'

When he'd gone she closed the door and
leant back against it. In her mind's eye she
was picturing Pat stark naked, hairy from neck


to toe.

'Oh God,' she whispered, wishing not for the
first time that Dougal wasn't a sailor and came
home every night like most normal men.

But a sailor he was and she had to put up

*


Andrew laid the tray he'd been carrymg on the
table then placed Jack PS
in front of him. It was one of their Friday nights


UTve be'enmeaning to ask for a while, how's
your little arrangement going?	imqAndrew stared at his friend whose eyeless
sockets were covered widi dark glasses. Jack
knew an arrangement had been made but not
. the name of the lassie it was with. Fine.
'That's good then. No problems?
'None at all.'

59


with it.
With certain exceptions that is.



Jack nodded. 'A man shouldn't be alone
the time, Andrew. It isn't good.'

'I'm not alone. Jack. I'm at the distillery evi
working day.'


'You know what I mean. I worry about yt,
old pal, rattling around in that big house all 3
yourself.'

Tm hardly that. There are the servants.'

'Not quite the same though, is it. You no
aproper companion, Andrew. In other wort
a wife.'

Andrew sighed. 'Not that again.'	..

'Your Alice was years ago. In the past. We
in the present which has to be lived.'

Andrew conjured up a picture of Alice in
mind. Dear sweet Alice whom he'd started w
wooing because of her wealth and then fallt
in love with. Even now, after all this whihjust thinking about her brought a lump to
throat.

'Apart from anything else, Andrew, you ne
a son and heir to pass the distillery on to.' :i

Andrew gave a low laugh. 'Someone else sail
that recently.'

"Oh?'

'Willie Seaton's wife. The chap I servec
alongside in Ireland.'

'Well, she's right. And so am I.'

'All in due course, Jack. All in due course. 1'iu
sure the right person will come alongin time.
And I'm hardly decrepit yet.' He thought of his
last session with Ellen. 'Hardly,' he repeated,
with a chuckle. Ellen could certainly testify
to that.


60

'You want to get out and about more.'
 'To where? Besides, when I get home most
f nights all I'm good for is having a meal, a few
drams and then bed.'

1 don't believe that.' Jack held up a hand. 'I
know you work hard, but the rest is a state of
mind. You don't really want to do anything so
you don't.'

'Nonsense.'

Jack picked up his pint. 'Is it?'

Andrew found himself thinking of Georgina
Seaton. Now there was a woman he could be
interested in. Pity she was already married.

Jack cleared his throat. 'Changing the subject.
Can I ask your advice?'

'Naturally. What is it?'

'First of all, promise you won't laugh.'

'I swear. As if I'd laugh at a friend.' That was
said tongue in cheek as Jack was only too well


aware.

Tm serious about this.'
'Oh go on, Jack, you're blethering on like an

old biddy.'

Jack took a deep breath. 'I've only spoken
about this to Hettie, no one else, apart from
you tonight that is. Nor will I.'

Andrew waited patiently.

'Do you think I'm up to writing a novel?'

Andrew had no compulsion whatever to laugh.
If anything he was taken aback. 'What sort of

novel?'

Jack cleared his throat. 'A love story actually.'
'I see,' Andrew murmured, and tasted his

dram.

61


'Well. Do you think I'm being daft? Oveiv
reaching myself?'

'I don't think that at all. It would be a big
departure for you, as I'm sure you appreciate.
There must be a huge amount of work in a
novel compared to a play.'

'I know,' Jack replied softly, and nibbled a
thumbnail. 'I must confess, the whole idea rather
frightens me. It's a tremendous challenge, but
that in itself is exciting.'

'I do believe you've already made up your
mind to have a go.' Andrew smiled.

'I have nothing of the sort!' Jack protested.

'No?'

Jack shook his head. 'I swear.'

He had really, Andrew thought. Jack just
didn't know it yet. 'Well, I hope you go ahead.
And, having a great deal of faith in you, I'm
certain if you do you'll carry it off. So there.'

Jack groped for his whisky wishing he had the_
same faith. 'Slainthe!' he toasted.

'Slainthe Andrew responded.


*


Rose reined in her horse Trixie and, after a few!
moments, dismounted. She needed a breatherafter a good gallop.

'Come on, Trix, let's have a little ,walk,' she;
said, patting the mare's nose.

Trixie whinnied in reply.

As they walked Rose thought of Andrew'
Drummond, wondering what he was doing at
that very moment. Work probably, it being a


62

Wednesday morning. He was bound to be at
the distillery. Unless he was off on another of
his business trips, that is.

When they went to Drummond House she
must ask Andrew to take her round the distillery
and show her everything. Just the two of them if
possible, she didn't want her father or Georgina

playing gooseberry.

Was she being silly, she asked herself? Andrew
hadn't shown any particular interest in her, not
that sort of interest anyway. He'd been polite of
course, and attentive, when they were together.
But that was only manners.

She recalled the kiss on the cheek he'd given
her as he was leaving and reaching up caressed
the spot where his lips had touched her. She
flushed slightly remembering her embarrassment
at asking for the kiss. Shameless hussy, she
thought, which made her smile.

'Andrew,' she said. How she enjoyed saying
his name. 'Andrew.' A tremor ran through her
as she said it a second time.

Winter seemed an eternity away, years not
months. She knew it to be her imagination
but the days were positively dragging by. Each
so long it made her want to scream from


frustration.

Oh to be in his arms, to have his lips on hers

and not her cheek. For them to ...

Rose shook her head. Enough of that, girl,
she chided herself. She shouldn't be having
such thoughts. Not about Andrew or anyone


else.
Remounting Trixie she continued on her way,


63


trying unsuccessfully to get Andrew out of her
mind.


*


God, but they were tedious, Georgina reflected.
She loved her parents dearly but her yearly week
with them was hell. No wonder her father was
called Boring Bob behind his back. A nickname
he'd had for as long as she could remember.

She gazed in distaste around the somewhat
shabby room, shabby as was the rest of the
house. A house that, in its entirety, could
have fitted into the drawing room of The
Haven.

Well, maybe not in its entirety, there were

two floors to it after all, but it seemed that

way.	

'More tea, darling?' Margaret Galbraith

queried.

'No thank you, Mum.'
'Bob?'

'A spot more wouldn't go amiss.'

Georgina stared at her father. A small, balding,

waspish man, he looked exactly what he'd been

in life, a clerk. He blinked back at her through

wire-framed spectacles.

'Yes, Georgina. You wish to say something?'

'No, Father. I was just thinking.'

Bob knew Georgina disliked her visits there,

which he could well understand. She'd become

used to far grander things after all. Far grander

things and people. But it was her duty to come,

to visit her mother if nothing else.


64

g


Margaret took Bob's cup and refilled it. 'What
do you intend doing tomorrow, dear?' she asked

Georgina.

'I thought I might go shopping.'

That scandalised Margaret. 'But you've already
been shopping twice, Georgina. You'll have
bought up the whole of Perth before you're

finished.'

Georgina laughed. 'Hardly!'

'Why don't you take your mother with you
this time,' Bob suggested.

Georgina sighed inwardly. That was the last
thing she wanted. If her mother went along
all she'd get was a constant lecture on how
expensive everything was and how much she was
spending. Her spending horrified Margaret.

'Mum?'

Til stay at home if you don't mind, dear.
I'd planned a spot of baking.' She beamed.
'Your father so enjoys my baking, isn't that
correct, Bob?'

He nodded.

What a relief, Georgina thought. What a

blessed relief.


*


'Georgina, this is incredible. How are you?'

Georgina, just stepping out of a cab, turned to
stare at Andrew Drummond in surprise. 'Why,

hello!'

'Here, let me,' he said, and paid off the driver.
'What are you doing in Perth?' he queried as the
cab drove off.


65



'My parents live here. I visit them once a year.
And you?'

'A little bit of business.'

'I see.' She smiled.

'So where are you off to?'

'Just the shops.'

'Looking for something in particular?'

She shook her head. 'Passing time, that's all.
My parents are lovely, but not in long stretches.
They tend to be rather . . . claustrophobic, shall
I say.'

Andrew laughed. 'I understand.' He glanced
about him. 'As we've bumped into one another
why don't we take coffee? It's about that time
of morning.'


Something jumped inside her. 'That would be
splendid.'

'There's a coffee shop not far from here that
I sometimes frequent. We could go there.'

'What's it called?'

'Darling's.'


Georgina smiled. 'I know it well. An excellent
choice.'


'Pity I sent away that cab,' he commented,
looking to see if he could spot another.

'We can walk,' she protested. 'It's only a few
minutes' stroll.'


Offer his arm or not? Not, he decided. 'Then
shall we?'

*


*


Andrew's eyes lit up when the cake stand
was placed on their table. 'French cakes,' he


66

enthused. 'I adore those. Have ever since I was
a nipper. Especially the chocolate-covered ones.

Yummy.'

Georgina laughed. 'Do you have a sweet

tooth?'

'Not really. But French cakes are an exception.
I'd murder for one.' For a brief instant a strange
glint came into his eyes.

'Coffee for two please,' he instructed the
waitress who'd reappeared to take their order.

'Certainly, sir.'

'So, where are you staying?' Georgina inquired.

Tm not. I motored down early and will motor
back later on this afternoon when my business
is concluded.'

'In that gorgeous Rolls-Royce.'

'Yes,' he murmured.

'You will have to give me a spin in it when
we come to Drummond House.'

Td be delighted.'

He really was such a handsome man, she
thought. Quite dishy as the younger folk would
say. Far better-looking than Willie. Not that
Willie was unattractive, far from it. But he wasn't
in the same league as Andrew Drummond.

'How are things at The Haven?' he inquired

politely.

'More or less the same. Nothing changes there
very much. It can be quite humdrum actually
which is why it's always such a pleasure getting

to a city.'

'Even Perth,' he grinned. Perth might be
lovely but it was hardly the most exciting of
places.



67


'Even Perth,' she agreed. 'For the shops.'

'So tell me, I never did find out. How did
you and Willie meet?'

She vividly remembered the occasion, a night
that had completely altered the course of her
life. 'At a small gathering held by mutual
friends.'

'Here in Perth?'

She nodded. 'Willie and I struck it off right
away. Well, one thing led to another and
eventually to marriage.' She paused, then added
reflectively, 'So many women of my generation
never got a first chance, far less a second.'

Andrew frowned. 'Second chance?'

She hesitated, then went on. 'There was a
chap before the war, his name was Harry.
We were very much in love and intended
marrying. Then the war happened and . . . '
She sucked in a breath. 'Harry was killed in
France.'

'I'm sorry,' Andrew sympathised.

'I thought I was left on the shelf, there
being so few men to go round after the war.
That's why there are so many spinsters of my
generation.'

'And then Willie popped up and that was
that,' Andrew smiled. 'He whisked you off the
shelf and the pair of you lived happily ever
after.'

'That's right.' It was too, she reflected. For
she was happy, though only to an extent. She'd
never loved Willie, not when she married him,
or now. Fond of him, yes. Very fond. But that
was as far as it went. Her feelings for him were


68

nothing like those she'd had for Harry. Now that


haidf onliecVoeuld satisfy her in bed it might
make a difference, but he didn't, and never
ih She'd become reconciled to that. Even
Thehad she shouldn't have loved him, but
Jhe might have felt more towards him.

vff a catch Willie had been a catch
sheM grabbed with both hands when given
the opportunity. Never in her wildest dreams
had she imagined she'd end up mistress of a
Land house like The Haven, or wifc a husband
fTwealthy. Harry, bless him, had worked m
a bank as a teller. A good job, he d otten
assured her. And he'd had aspirations He'd
be a manager one day he'd repeatedly said,
it was only a matter of time and passing the


roTL still achingly missed. Her
biggesiregret was that they'd never made love
Even when he was off to fight she'd still refused
hkn wanting to be a virgin on their wedding
3t Well, die had been on her wedding night
only it had been Willie she'd given herself to and


n'TT wonderful man,' Andrew declared,

referring to Willie.	,

'Yes ' she agreed. 'Wonderful.

And ew wondered why the mood between
them had suddenly changed. Before it had been
iff and jocular but within the last few moments
it had become sombre.	,

'So now I know how you and Willie met.

She was lucky, she reminded herself, damned


62



lucky to have had that second chance.
Even if love was absent.


*


'Pooh!' Rose exclaimed. 'You don't half pong.'

lan Seaton glared at his sister. 'Well, what
do you expect after a day like I've put in. It
wasn't only hard graft but nasty smelly work, I
can1 tell you.'

'You don't have to tell me, the smelly part
is obvious.' Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust.
'Pooh!' she repeated.

Sometimes his sister irritated lan beyond
belief. 'Anyway, I'm off for a bath now,' he
declared.

'And don't you need one.' Rose's derisory
laugh followed lan up the stairs.


*


'Well, well, well,' Scan muttered, and gave a
small belch. He and the rest of the Samurai
were out for a Saturday night boozeup.

'What is it?' Noddy Gallagher queried, noting
Scan's expression.

Scan nodded across the horseshoe-shaped bar.
'Remember I mentioned those Proddy bastards
who jumped me a while back.'

'Aye.'

'That's them over there.'

Noddy peered in the direction Scan had
indicated. 'Which ones?'

Scan described the two in question.


7,0

'What's up?' Jim Gallagher, Noddy's brother,
asked on joining them.

Sean explained the situation.
'I don't think they're regulars here Jim mused 'I've certainly never seen them before mSean recalled with grim satisfaction that he'd
beaten the Prods, though at no small cost to
Self He'd been sore for days afterwards.
Hfehand went to the hard metal object he was
carrying in his inside jacket pocket.

sT time we started making a name for
ourselves,' he declared softly	.
'You mean as Samurai?' Jim queried.
Sean nodded. 'Exactly.'
'What do you have in mind?
'Get the lads over here. This is a night those
bastards are going to remember for the rest of


thNoddyS swallowed hard, shivering at the look
on Sean's face. It was frightening.

'Right,' Jim said, and moved oil.

Sean's eyes strayed to the clock above the
gantry. They'd wait till nearly closing time and
Sen leave. In the meantime he'd ensure he
wasn't spotted by the Prods.


*


One moment the Prods were laughing and ,okmg
between themselves, the next they'd been set
upon and bundled into an alleyway.

'Give them a right doing,' Sean mstructed,
landing a heavy punch.

The Prods didn't have a chance, they were


7,1


simply overwhelmed by numbers. When they
were both on the ground the boot went in.

'Keep them conscious Scan yelled, his own
boot flashing.


A Prod screamed in agony as the boot found
its mark between his legs.

Scan stepped back and reached into his inside
pocket. The cutthroat razor he produced had an
ebony handle.

v'Now hold the fuckers there he hissed.
The Samurai swiftly obeyed.
Scan straddled his first victim to smile evilly
down at him. 'Remember me?'
The Prod didn't answer.
'Remember me, you bastard?'
'Fenian cunt.'

Scan laughed and made small circles in the air
with the now fully opened razor. 'Well, you're
certainly right about me being a Fenian, and
proud of it I am too.'

The pinioned Prod spat at Scan. 'That's what
I think of you and your like.'

Cold fury erupted in Scan as spittle ran
down the front of his shirt. 'You're going to
regret that.'

'Stop it, Tom. Don't antagonise them any
further,' the other Prod counselled.
'Is that your name then, son? Tom.'
'Up yours.'
'Tom what?'
'Tom Thumb.'


Scan laughed again. 'Quite the comedian,
aren't you?'

Mo Binchy glanced anxiously at the entrance


72

to the alleyway. 'Hurry up, there are always lots
of polis around on a Saturday night. We don't
want to get caught.'

'We won't get caught,' Scan replied.

He bent over Tom. 'We're the Samurai. Don't
forget, pal.'

There was no reply.

Tom shrieked when Scan scored a deep cut
down one side of his face. He continued
shrieking as another furrow was added on the


same cheek.
Two furrows on each cheek, then Scan sliced

off a thumb.

'There's your thumb, Tom.' Scan leered
malevolently, placing it on the lad's chest.

Tom didn't reply. He was out cold.

Then it was the second Prod's turn. Two
furrows on each cheek, only he got to keep his
thumbs.


73



5


Willie found lan standing by a window staring I
out over the autumnal landscape, his son clearly
lost in thought.

'Am I intruding?'

lan started and turned to face Willie. 'No, I
was just . . . thinking I suppose.'

'Oh?'

lan watched his father light a cigarette. 'About
how much I love this place.'

Willie smiled.

'Always have done. I wouldn't want to live
anywhere else. Not in a million years.'

'I know what you mean. It's the same with
me, I wouldn't trade The Haven for any other
place on earth.'

lan nodded.

'How's the work coming along?'

'Fine.'

'Enjoying it?'

'Some of the experiences I could do without,'
lan replied ruefully. 'But on the whole it's
. . . well, you could call it good fun.'

'Jock Gibson treating you all right?'

'He's a hard taskmaster right enough. But
fair, you have to give him that. He's well
respected and admired by all those under him.
As I hope I'll be when in time I take over
his job.'

There was a change in lan of late, Willie


74

thought. A resolve about him that hadn't been
there before. And certainly a new maturity. 'So
what's it tomorrow?' he inquired.

'I'm not sure. Mr Gibson hasn't said.'
Willie smiled inwardly at the use of the title


Mister.

'There are some trees needing felling so it
might be that.' lan shrugged. 'On the other
hand it could be any of a dozen things. I won't
know until I'm given my instructions.'

'Would you say you've learned a lot?'

'Oh certainly. But more importantly I've
learned how much more I've still got to learn.'

Willie chuckled, pleased by his son's progress.
When he passed on, the estate would be left in
good hands. Of that he now had no doubt.

'Was there . . . anyone special when you were
away studying?' Willie asked casually.

'You mean a girl?'

'That's right.'

lan shook his head. 'I met a few nice lassies I
have to admit, but no one you would call special.


Why?'

'You'll get married one day and I just
wondered . . . Well, you understand.'

'When I meet someone like that you'll be the
first to know. All right?'

'All right,' Willie agreed.

He moved to stand beside lan. 'Talking of
loving this place, your mother certainly did. She
said to me once that every day she spent here

was a sheer joy.'

lan smiled to hear that. 'I still miss her.'
'As do I, son. As do I. She was a wonderful


75


woman with an enormous heart.'

Willie's face clouded with memory recalling
Mary's death from influenza. Her last words, as
he'd held her in his arms, were that she loved
him. What a terrible loss that had been. He'd
thought the anguish of her passing would kill
him as well.

Tm glad you've long since made up your
differences with Georgina,' he said softly. 'As
I explained a dozen times in the past, she was
never trying to take your mother's place.'

'I understand that now,' lan replied. 'It was
stupid of me, and selfish, to expect you to go
through the rest of your life alone.'

'You were young, lad, and deeply hurt. You
saw Georgina as an intrusion on your mother's
memory. But, as they say, life goes on. Even
I had to accept that after a while. And you
can't deny Georgina's been good for me, not
to mention yourself and Rose.'

lan thought he couldn't deny it. Georgina
made Willie happy and that was what counted.
'Tell you what, Pa, why don't we go for a walk?
Just the pair of us, together.'

Willie nodded. 'I'd like that. A lot.'

'We could go down to the churchyard and
pay our respects?'

'We could do, lan. We could indeed.'

A beautiful warmth pervaded Willie as they
left the room. Moments like these were so
precious.


*


76

Kathleen glanced round in surprise as a long
faced Bridie entered the kitchen. 'What are you
doing home at this hour? Why aren't you at


work?'

'I got laid off, Ma.

'Laid ... Oh my God! Your father will be


iT wasn't my fault, Ma. Do you think I
wanted to be shown the door? Hardly.' Bridie
slumped into a chair. 'There were three of us
eot the push this time. And I was one.

Kathleen, who'd been washing dishes, dried
her hands on a towel. This was awful.
'Could I have a cup of tea? I need one.
'Aye, me as well.' Kathleen busied herself with
the kettle, her mind whirling.

'Pa can't blame me. Ma. It would be
completely unfair if he did.'

Kathleen knew that to be true enough. But
you could never be sure with Pat, all he would
see was a wage not coming into the house. It
would be just like him to fly off the handle.

'Teresa's still there. Though worried sick she 11
be next' Bridie shook her head. 'I simply can't
understand why there's been such a slump
in sales. Glasgow folk have aye been heavy
lemonade drinkers.'

Bridie was still in a state of shock from her
sacking. She'd guessed the moment she'd been
summoned to the manager s office what lay in
store for her. And her guess had been only


too right.	, ,
'Well, you'll just have to get something else,
Kathleen declared. 'First thing the morn's morn


77


i



you're out doing the rounds. And tonight we'll
look in your da's paper to see if there's anything
there.'

Bridie nodded her agreement.

'And I'll ask around when I'm out and about.
There's always the possibility that someone will
have heard of a job going.' A possibility, but not
much of one, Kathleen thought.


*	*


Hettie Riach's eyes were filled with tears when
Jack finally stopped talking. 'So what do you
think?' he asked after a few seconds' hiatus.

'It's a smashing idea for a book. Jack. I . . . '
She broke off, then smiled. 'It's about us,
isn't it?'

'More or less. Though changed somewhat. I
want a happy ending. The hero doesn't come
back blinded and scarred in my story.'	I

She went over and knelt in front of him.
Reaching up she gently stroked his cheek. 'You'll
always be my hero. For ever and for ever.'

A lump came into his throat. 'It's funny how
things work out, isn't it? If it hadn't been for
the war and my wounds we'd probably never
have got together.' He paused, then added, 'And
what a loss that would have been.'

'For both of us, Jack. For both of u.'

'Are you certain? You don't regret anything?'

'No,' she whispered. 'I swear.'

He recalled the cocky gallant of yesteryear,
the dashing figure who'd used Hettie as no
better than a common whore. Paying her for


78

their weekly rendezvous where he'd have his
way with her. What a different man he was
now from that person.

He grasped Hettie by the hand. 'You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Hettie.
God does indeed move in mysterious ways.'


*


'Your husband must have left quite a bit of this
stuff behind,' Pat commented drily to Geraldine
Buchanan. This was the fourth time he'd been
invited to stay on and have a beer.

Geraldine dropped her gaze. 'To be truthful,
Pat, I've bought the last couple in.'

He raised a bushy eyebrow.

CI enjoy the company you see. It gets so lonely
being on your own.'

'I can imagine.'

'And being new here I haven't any friends
in the area. Oh, the neighbours are polite
enough, but that's as far as it's gone so


far.'

'Where did you move from?' he asked.

'Paisley.'

He waited for her to go on, and when she

didn't asked, 'Why was that?'

She had no intention of giving Pat the real
reason behind their move. Dougal had found
out about Charlie, the last man she'd been
entertaining while Dougal was away. What a
ruction that had been, Dougal storming round to
Charlie's house and punching him. That evening
Dougal had informed her they were moving, he


79



didn't care where as long as it was out of Paisley.
She never had discovered who it was had told
Dougal or how that person had known about
Charlie.


'It was to be closer to Dougal's parents
she lied. 'Now it's far easier to pop over
and see them than it was while we were in
Paisley.'


Pat nodded that he understood.
Jit's the evenings that are the worst,' Geraldine
said. 'They just seem to go on and on when
you're alone.'


Pat had another swallow of beer and didn't
reply.


'I was wondering . . . ' She trailed off and
dropped her gaze again.


'Wondering what?' he prompted softly, pretty
certain he knew what was coming next.

'Don't get the wrong idea but I was wondering
if you'd care to drop by some night. We get on
so well that we could have a right old laugh
together. I'd lay in some beer of course, and
whisky.'


Beer and whisky, both compliments of
Geraldine. What a temptation. And the rest
too he thought. Get the wrong idea indeed!
She must think him daft.

'I'd be ever so appreciative,' she said.

I'll bet you would, he thought, regarding her
over the rim of his glass. In all his years as a
coalman this was the first time he'd ever had
an offer like this.

'Well, Pat?'

He decided not to commit himself right away.


80

He had to think this through.

'How about I give you an answer next time
I come up with your coal?'

She gave him an alluring smile. 'I doubt your
wife would be pleased if you told her.'

'Pleased! She'd have a fit. No, Geraldine,
if I do decide to come Kathleen won't be
knowing anything about it. I can assure you

of that.'

'It gets so lonely,' she repeated wistfully.
Randy cow, he thought.


*


'Any luck?' Kathleen queried as Bridie walked
through the door.

Bridie shook her head.

'Where did you try?'

'Templeton's, the carpet people. They suggested
I go back in a month when they might have
something. Then I tried a big bread bakery
in the Cowcaddens. There was nothing there

either.'

Kathleen bit back her disappointment. She'd
come to rely on what Bridie gave her at the end
of the week, just as she relied on Scan. Little
enough though it was in both cases. Damn Pat
for being such a boozer.

Bridie sighed. Til go out again tomorrow.
Who knows?'

Who indeed, Kathleen thought.


*


81


'You on a committee!' Kathleen exclaimed in
astonishment.
'Aye, me.'


Kathleen stared at Pat in wonderment. 'Would
you credit it.'


'I was right proud I can tell you. It's quite an
honour for the Union to ask you to serve on a
committee.'

'What's the committee about?' Scan queried
from where he was sitting.


'The taking care of widows and orphans,' Pat
replied glibly.

Scan shook his head. 'Don't take offence, Pa,
there's none intended. But it's hard to see you
on a committee. You're not the type.'

Pat winked at his son. 'Hidden qualities,
Sean.'

'What's a committee?' Alison piped up.

'A group of people who talk about things and
then decide on them,' Pat informed her.

'Is it important to be on a committee?'

'Very, lassie. Indeed it is.'

'And what nights will this committee be held?'
Kathleen inquired.

He played his trump card. 'Fridays.'

Kathleen's eyes lit up. That meant Pat
wouldn't be going to the pub. What a blessing,
not to mention saving of money. This was
terrific news.

'It might vary of course,' Pat went oh. 'But
as far as I understand it will mainly be Friday
nights.'


Kathleen couldn't have been more delighted.
'Well, are you proud of me, girl?'


82

Kathleen went to him and pecked him on the
cheek. 'I am, Pat. I never thought a husband of
mine would be on a committee. That's quite


something.'
He laughed. 'You'll see me in a new light

now, eh?'

'I will that,' she replied, pride swelling within
her. Her man on a committee! He'd be running
for Parliament next. On the Labour ticket of

course.

Hook, line and sinker, Pat congratulated
himself. The committee thing had been inspirational,
so it had.

Inspirational.


*


Despite three large drams in the pub round the
corner Pat was still nervous as hell. He'd never
done anything like this before. He was quite

unnerved.

Think of the beer and whisky, he reminded
himself. Aye, think of those and get cracking.
It's not as if she was ugly or anything, quite
the opposite. And his for the taking.

He timidly knocked on the door and waited.


*


What a fool he'd been, Pat reflected ruefully.
What a bloody idiot. They'd sat there drinking
for hours and he hadn't made a move. Not a
single one, not even to kiss her.

He closed his eyes, remembering the vision


83



that had been Geraldine Buchanan. And a
vision she'd been too. Dressed up to the nines,
smelling like . . . well, no woman he'd ever smelt
before.

When he'd left her disappointment had been
obvious, though she hadn't said anything. It had
been simply,, with a big smile, I hope you'll come
again soon, Pat.

Would he? He didn't know.

'Imagine him being scared! It was a joke when
you thought about it. Him, Pat Flynn, scared of
a woman. Scared to get to grips with her. And
yet he had been. He groaned.

Tat?'

He opened his eyes to stare at Kathleen who
was gazing at him in concern.

'Are you all right, Pat?'

'A wee bit indigestion that's all. They had
some sandwiches there that couldn't have agreed
with me.'

'I must say you looked real smart when you
went out to your committee. Collar and tie and
everything.'

'Aye, well you have to.'

'And it all went well?'

'Didn't I say it did.'

'And you spoke?'

'Once or twice.'

He glanced over at Bridie whose head, as
so often, was buried in a book. He couldn't
imagine where she got her bookishness from.
Certainly not him, or Kathleen. During their
entire married life together he'd never known
either of them open a book to read.


84

He yawned. 'I suppose I'd better get on
through. Being on a committee makes you


tired.'
'Especially after a hard day's work,' Kathleen

added sympathetically.

'Aye, it does that.'

Bloody idiot, he thought, heaving himself out
of his chair. But at least the beer and whisky
had been good, and lots of it.


*


lan, sitting on a fallen tree, opened the packet
of sandwiches that had been made up for his
lunch. He was starving, but then who wouldn't
be, grafting the way he had that morning.

'What have you got the day?' Jimmy
Carruthers asked in a friendly way. He was
one of the four of them working together.

lan peered inside the sandwich he'd taken
from the packet. 'This one's egg.'

'I like egg,' Jimmy commented affably. 'I often


have it myself.'
'What's yours?'

'Spread.'

lan loathed spread, no matter what sort.
Unscrewing his flask he poured himself some


coffee.

As he hungrily munched lan reflected on the
plans for the estate that had recently been
forming in his mind, plans he wouldn't mention
to Willie until he was manager.

The estate was well run, there was no denying
that. But times change and Willie hadn't really


85


moved with them. lan didn't blame his father,
that's the way Willie was. Someone straight out
of the old school.

lan continued eating and ruminating, finding ' the former satisfying, the latter exciting in the
extreme.


*


'Let me get this straight,' Andrew said. It was
another of his and Jack's nights at the local.
'The plot is about a domestic servant who's
secretly in love with her employer, a young
wealthy landowner. Right?'
'Right,' Jack nodded.

Andrew couldn't help but smile. 'And this
landowner doesn't know until he gets back from
the war?'

'That's correct.'

Andrew sat back in his chair and gazed at his
friend. 'Why do I think this has a somewhat
familiar ring about it?'
Jack pretended innocence. 'Do you?'
'It wouldn't be about you and Hettie by any
chance?'

Jack had the grace to blush. 'Certainly not.'
'Are you sure? Your plays have been
autobiographical after all, about your experiences
in the trenches. So why not your book?'

Jack cleared his throat. 'Hettie was never a
domestic servant.'

'She was your housekeeper when you first
moved into the cottage. And you employed her
before that.'


86

'True.'

Andrew laughed. 'You never were a good liar,

old cock.'

Jack had a drink of beer while he thought.
Damn Andrew for seeing through his story.
He'd wanted that to remain strictly between
Hettie and himself.

Suddenly it dawned on Andrew where Jack
had got the idea for the arrangement between
him and Ellen. It wasn't something Jack had
heard about at all; a similar arrangement had
existed between Jack and Hettie. Of course! It

made sense.

'I think it a good plot, as far as it goes,'

Andrew said slowly.

'Do you?'

'But a bit thin so far, wouldn't you say.'

Jack shrugged. 'I've got to work out the
details, flesh the whole thing out so to speak.'

'Can I make a comment?'

'Of course.'

'Your protagonist comes back safe and sound

I take it. All in one piece?'

'Uh-huh.'

'It might be more poignant if he returned
disabled to find out the servant still loves him

despite that.'

Jack tensed. 'What sort of disablement?'
'How about an amputee? God knows, there

are enough of those came home from France.

A chap who'd lost both legs for instance.'
'I want a happy ending, Andrew.'
'To my way of thinking that is a happy ending.

The chap reappears thinking his life is more or


87


less finished. Only it isn't. I do believe you could
do a lot with that.'

'Hmmh,' Jack murmured.

Andrew snapped his fingers. 'Of course!'

'Of course what?'

'What if... I'm no writer, mind. This is only
a suggestion. Instead of the domestic simply
being secretly in love with him, what if they'd
had an affair before the war?'

Alarm flared in Jack. Had Andrew guessed
about him and Hettie?

'He'd have to be a cad naturally, a real
bounder who was just using her for his own
pleasure, completely oblivious to the fact of her
true feelings.'

Jack winced inwardly. For hadn't it truly been
something like that?

Andrew went on. 'When he comes back,
minus his legs, he's a totally changed man.
No longer the cad and bounder. She helps him
come to terms with his injuries and during this
period he genuinely falls for her. Eventually they
marry and Bob's your uncle!'

Andrew beamed across the table. 'That sounds
pretty good to me.'

Jack sipped his whisky and didn't reply.

'Well, old cock?'

'It has potential,' Jack murmured.

'More than potential I'd say.'

'Maybe you should be writing this book and
not me.' Jack commented drily.

'Hardly. Haven't got that sort of imagination.'

'Well, you were doing all right there for a few
minutes.'


88

U


Andrew laughed. 'I was too, wasn't I? But no,
writing is your province, Jack. Not mine.'
A cad and a bounder, Jack thought. That


hurt.

'Anyway, I'll leave it with you,' Andrew
declared. 'Only trying to help after all. That's
what friends are for.'

Andrew threw his whisky down his throat.
'Drink up and I'll get a couple more drams

in.'

'It's my round,' Jack said, reaching for his

wallet.

Andrew stood. 'By the way, have you got a

title yet for this epic?'

'I'm considering An Apple From Eden.'
'An Apple From Eden,' Andrew mused. 'I

like it.'


*


'He suggested what!' an aghast Hettie exclaimed.

Jack repeated himself.

Hettie sat. 'Does he know about us? Have
you ever mentioned that you used to pay me,

Jack Riach?'

'I swear, Hettie, not a word.'

'It would be so embarrassing if he did know.
Imagine if it got out that I'd taken money from
you before the war. My reputation would be in
tatters. Our reputation. Oh Jack!' she suddenly

wailed.

'There's no question of that,' Jack assured
her. 'Andrew never mentioned cash when we
were talking. Only that the couple had had


89



an affair and that the chap in question was a
bounder who returns from the war completely
changed as a person.'

That calmed Hettie a little. 'You swear you've
never told him?'

'I just have sworn. Only two people know
about you and me, and that's you and I.'

Hettie swallowed hard. 'I got the wind up
there for a moment.'

'There's nothing to worry about, I promise.'

'I sincerely hope so.' But there was a niggle
of doubt in Hettie's mind.


*




Scan strolled over to the lassie who'd caught
his eye, a pretty piece with dark hair and dark
eyes. She was wearing a long blue dress with a
cream lace collar and turned-back cuffs that he
thought rather becoming. Her shoes were black
of the button-bar variety.

'Are you for up?' he queried.

She rose and smiled tremulously at him.
'Aye, fine.'

'Right then.'

He grasped her by the arm and steered her on
to the floor. As the dance had been organised
by the chapel he knew she must be Catholic.

'What's your name?' he asked as the band  struck up.

'Muriel. And you're Scan Flynn.'

He glanced sharply at her. 'How did you
know that?'

A combination of fear and awe came into


90

her eyes. 'You're the leader of this new gang,

I hear.'

'Aye, that's so. The Samurai.'

'Is it true you gave two Prods a real doing,
marked them and cut off one's thumb?'

His chest expanded with pride. 'True as you're
here the night.'

Muriel shivered, unable to believe that such
a worthy had asked her to dance. 'You must be
right hard,' she said.

He gave her a condescending smile.

So, people were talking about him and the
Samurai. Word was getting round. It made him

feel ten feet tall.

At the end of the final number he said
-- didn't ask but said -- he'd take her home.
Muriel was thrilled.

He acknowledged a conspiratorial wink from
Noddy Gallagher as he swaggered, with Muriel
on his arm, from the hall.


91



6


'Come away in. I'd almost given you up.'
Geraldine greeted a nervous Pat.

'Sorry I'm late. It was just one thing after
another.'

*It doesn't matter. You're here now, that's all
that counts.'

Geraldine closed the door again, her eyes
gleaming. She was determined this wasn't going
to be a repetition of the last visit which had been
so dreadfully disappointing.

She ushered him through to the sitting room
where she instructed him to take a seat.

'You look smashing,' he declared. Her dress
was cream coloured, the hem about six inches
above her ankles. It was tied loosely at her waist
by a strip of matching material.

'Why, thank you.'

That perfume, he thought. Erotic wasn't in
Pat's vocabulary, but if it had been it's the word
he would have used to describe the perfume and
the effect it had on him.

'Dram?'	I

'Please.'

She moved sinuously across to a sideboard
and opened it. He couldn't take his eyes
off her buttocks when she bent over. They
mesmerised him.

'Soda as last time?' she queried.

'Aye, that's right.'


92

She poured a small one for herself, a large
one for Pat, adding soda to both. She then bent
again to retrieve a bottle of beer from the same
sideboard cupboard.

'There you are,' she smiled, handing Pat the

bottle and his dram.

'Better service than the pub,' he joked.

Geraldine sat facing him and they proceeded
to make small talk, she periodically getting up
and refilling his glass.

Pat sighed, that well-known warm glow
spreading through him. Oh, but this was grand.

The very dab.

'I couldn't help but notice, and I hope you
don't think me being rude, that you're a hairy
man, Pat,' Geraldine said in what was almost a
croon. 'Dougal's the same way. Hairy all over.'

'I'm certainly that,' Pat retorted.

Something twisted inside Geraldine's stomach.
It was taking all her self-control not to throw
herself at him and rip his clothes off.

'I adore hairy men,' Geraldine went on. 'I
find them so ... attractive.'

'Oh?'

'So attractive,' she repeated, a husk coming

into her throat.

'I, eh ... I don't ever really think about it.
That's how I've been for most of my life. Ever
since I sort of grew up like.'

Geraldine had another sip of whisky. 'Why
don't you come and sit beside me on this
sofa,' she suggested, patting the cushion next

to her.

'Can I have another drink first?'


93



'Certainly, help yourself.'

Geraldine was ready to home in for the kill.


*


Bridie felt wretched. She'd been so close, so very
close. Now she was home all she wanted to do
was burst into tears.

'Well?' Kathleen demanded anxiously when
sne entered the kitchen.

'I had it. Ma. I know I did. And then he asked
me what school I went to and that was that.'

Kathleen swore under her breath.

'The moment I mentioned St Xavier's his
whole attitude changed. He went on with the
interview as though my being Catholic didn't
matter, but it did.'

'The dirty Protestant dog,' Kathleen muttered.
The old Glasgow story, what school did you go
to? Not are you Catholic or Protestant, but which
school did you go to? How many Catholics had
missed out because of that question. Catholics
without number.

Bridie ran a hand over her face. 'It was a great
job too. Good money. And then . . . ' She broke
off and sobbed.

'There there, lass,' Kathleen said, hurrying to her daughter and enveloping Bridie in her arms. W
'It isn't the end of the world.'

'It's so unfair, Ma. Why should me being
Catholic make any difference? It's whether or
not I can do the job well that should count.'

'I know, Bridie. The world's a harsh place
at times. And as you say unfair. But there we


94

are. That's how it is and we just have to live
with it.'

Bridie sobbed again.

'Shall I put the kettle on?'

'That would be nice. Ma.'

'And I have a wee packet of chocolate biscuits
in. We'll have a couple of those each. But don't
mention them to Alison or that greedy madam
will scoff what's left given half the chance.'

Kathleen, heart heavy with Bridie's disappointment
and the reason for it, held her
daughter for another minute before releasing
her.


*


'I thought I might write to Andrew Drummond
and propose we visit next month. What do you
think, Georgina?'

'That's fine by me, Willie, as long as you feel

you can get away.'

Rose's face had lit up. At long last she was to
get to see Andrew again. 'How wonderful!' she
exclaimed, and clapped her hands together.

Georgina glanced over at Rose in surprise.
Now why should her stepdaughter be so excited
about going to see Andrew Drummond?

Til stay behind if you don't mind, Pa,'
lan declared. 'I don't want to disrupt my

work here.'

Willie nodded his approval.

Disrupting his work had nothing to do with
lan's decision not to accompany the rest of
the family. The real reason was that he didn't


95



like Andrew Drummond very much. There
was something disturbing about the man that
bothered him. Something he didn't trust.

Rose was positively bubbling inside. How
she'd been looking forward to this.

'You seen very keen. Rose Georgina
commented quietly.

'And why not Rose prevaricated. 'It'll be
lovely to go somewhere different, to get off the
'estate for a while.' Then, ingenuously, 'Surely
there's nothing wrong with that?'

'Nothing,' Georgina agreed, still wondering.

lan roused himself from his chair. 'If you don't
mind I'm off to my bed. Today was a killer.'

'Not too much for you, brother?' Rose
remarked sweetly.

He glared at her. 'Not in the least. It was
tiring, that's all.'

Willie sighed. Did those two never let up?
What annoyed him most was that it was all so
unnecessary. Why couldn't they just get on?

'Goodnight, lad,' he said, forcing a smile on
to his face.

'Goodnight, Pa, Georgina.' lan drew in a deep
breath. 'Goodnight, Rose.'

'Goodnight, brother dear.'

Rose went back to thinking about Andrew
Drummond.


*


Willie glanced up from his paperwork when there
was a knock on the door. 'Come in,' he called
out. He was dreading this, it was so distasteful.


96


An ashen-faced Lizzie McTaggart appeared
followed by Mrs Coltart, the housekeeper. Mrs
Coltart's expression was grim in the extreme.

Willie leant back in his chair to stare at Lizzie
through eyes that had gone quite cold. 'Well,
Lizzie, what do you have to say for yourself?'


he demanded.

'Oh please, sir, let me have another chance. I'll
never do it again. I promise,' she blurted out.
'But it wasn't the first time though, was it,
Lizzie? According to Mrs Coltart you've stolen
quite a number of things.'

'Some of which were found in her room,' Mrs
Coltart commented quietly.
Lizzie hung her head in shame.
'All small articles, knick-knacks and the like,'
Mrs Coltart went on. 'Which she no doubt
thought wouldn't be missed. But I knew they'd
gone all right. It was only a case of finding the


thief.'

There was a few seconds' hiatus, then Willie

asked softly, 'Why, Lizzie? Why?'

Lizzie shrugged.

'That's hardly an answer.'

'I thought to sell them to make a wee bit
extra,' Lizzie finally choked.

'Indeed.'

Lizzie swallowed hard. 'I know it was wrong.
I'm sorry. Honest I am. Please don't sack me,
I like it here. Everyone's so friendly.'

Mrs Coltart snorted. 'If you want my opinion,
Mr Seaton, should you find a rotten apple in the
barrel then throw it out. There's nothing else
for it.'

97

'I could prosecute, you know, Lizzie. That
might mean going to prison.'

A thoroughly frightened Lizzie reeled where
she stood. 'Oh, Mr Seaton, you wouldn't do
that. The shame.'

'Aye,' Willie murmured. 'Shame indeed.'

'My ma and da would be mortified. They'd
disown me so they would. I couldn't bear
that.'

Willie knew the McTaggarts, a fine upstanding,
church-going family. Mortified they'd certainly
be. As for disowning their daughter, that was a
distinct possibility.

'Mrs Coltart, any further comments?'

'No, sir. I've stated my feelings.'

Mrs Coltart was right, he told himself. A
rotten apple had to be discarded. Though,
because of the parents, it pained him to do so.
Lizzie had to be punished, there was nothing
else for it.

'I won't prosecute,' he declared, which
brought a gasp of relief from Lizzie. 'But
I'm afraid I will have to let you go.'

'Oh please, sir,' she pleaded.

Willie shook his head. 'Nor will I give you a
reference. That's out of the question.'

'But . . . but . . . ' Lizzie stuttered.

'I simply can't, Lizzie. What if you should
succumb to temptation again? That woul.d reflect
on me.'

'I think you're getting off lightly, my girl,' Mrs
Coltart said to her.

'You have half an hour to pack your things
and leave. Mrs Coltart, stay with her the entire


98



time if you don't mind and escort her from
the premises. When you've done that come
back and see me here. We'll have to discuss
a replacement.'

'Yes, sir.'

Throughly distasteful, Willie thought as
he rocked forward and continued with his
paperwork.


*


'Pat, is there something wrong?'

Pat tensed in the darkness. He and Kathleen
were in bed. 'How do you mean?'

'It's been weeks now since . . . Well, it's just

so unlike you.'

She meant lovemaking of course. The fact
was he'd gone right off Kathleen since sampling

Geraldine's delights.

'Are you ill in some way?' Kathleen further


probed.

'No,' came the gruff reply.

'Well then?'

'I just haven't felt like it, nothing more.'
Kathleen considered that. It had certainly
never happened before. During their entire
married life Pat had been regular as clockwork
where that was concerned.

'Now wheesht, woman, and go to sleep.'
He'd have to make an effort soon, he thought.
Otherwise Kathleen might get suspicious.

He imagined Geraldine, picturing the pair of
them together, and smiled. He still couldn't get
over what it was like to be with her. Utterly


99


fantastic. That body and free booze too.
Sheer bloody paradise.


*


'Hey, Scan, haud on a bit.'

Scan turned to see Bill O'Connell hurrying
towards him. The pair of them were in a long
stream of men leaving Barry's Iron Foundry after
the day's shift.


Bill fell into step beside Scan. 'How's it
going?' Scan asked.
'Real dandy. And you?'


'Couldn't be better. So what can I do for
you?'


'I was wondering., Scan,, you and me have
known each other a long time now. Right?'

Scan nodded that was so.
'I've been hearing about this gang of yours.
The Samurai, isn't it?'

'Correct. It's Japanese you know. That's what
their warriors were called.'

'Is that a fact?'

'It is. I chose the name myself.'

'Real class. Scan. Real class.'

Sean smiled in appreciation.


'The thing is, I rather fancy joining. If you'd
have me that is.'


Sean considered the request, and couldn't see
any objection. 'The others have a say, mind. It's
not just up to me.'


'But you could put in a good word like.
Would you do that for me? I'd be hellishly
obliged.'


100


I

i



'Of course I will.'

'Thanks.'

Sean thought with satisfaction this would be
the fourth new member since the Samurai were
formed. He had no doubt the others would be
only too pleased to welcome Bill into the fold.
Apart from anything else Bill was a right hard
nut. He'd be a real asset.

'Tell you what,' Sean said. 'We're having a
meeting the morrow night. You wait for me
outside my close at half seven and I'll personally
take you along. How's that?'

Bill beamed. 'I'll be there. You can count
on it.'

'On the dot, mind. I'm not hanging about.

'On the dot,' Bill promised.


*


'There just isn't anyone available locally, Mr
Seaton. I've asked everywhere,' Mrs Coltart
announced.

'Hmmh,' Willie mused. If his housekeeper
said that was so, then it was.

Mrs Coltart waited patiently for a reply.

'I suppose we'll just have to advertise,' Willie
said eventually. 'We have done so before as
you know. Though I have to say I prefer local
lassies.'

'Shall I leave that to you then, sir?'

'Yes, I'll deal with it, Mrs Coltart. Thank you
for what you've done.'

She left him to it.


101



*


Ellen squealed. 'That hurt!'

Andrew grinned to himself. Of course it had
hurt, he'd intended it to. 'Are you complaining?'
he queried, a slight hard edge to his voice.

'No, not at all,' Ellen replied hastily, thinking
of the money.

'Now keep quiet. I don't want anyone to
hear.'

Ellen gritted her teeth as Andrew continued
with what he'd been doing.


*


'Can we get Mrs Black to call? I've lost weight
and my clothes need taking in,' Rose requested
of Georgina. Mrs Black was the wife of one of
the estate workers and a first-class seamstress,
her occupation before marrying.

Georgina studied her stepdaughter. Rose was
quite right, she had lost weight.

Rose ran a finger along the inside of the
waistband of the skirt she was wearing. 'See
what I mean.'

Georgina nodded her approval. 'Well done
you, Rose. I've noticed you haven't been having
puddings of late.'

And she'd been doing without other things
too, Rose thought with satisfaction. The effort
had been worth it. And she intended losing
more weight before their visit to Drummond
House. She wanted to be sleek and svelte when
she next met Andrew.


102

'I've taken a leaf out of your book.' Rose

smiled at Georgina.

Georgina had a thought. 'I do believe it's
time we went to Edinburgh again. Instead of
having your current wardrobe redone we can


replace it.'

'A whole new wardrobe!' Rose gasped. Pa
wouldn't like that. She could almost hear his


objections.

'Well, maybe not an entire new wardrobe,'
Georgina replied, thinking that had been
something of a rash proposal. 'But certainly
quite a few items. It is your birthday coming
up after all. I shall persuade Willie that what
we get will be his and my present to you.'

Georgina smiled inwardly. She knew exactly
how to get Willie to agree to this. She'd entice
him in the bedroom, then, when he was all
worked up, put it to him. It was a ploy she'd
used countless times before and one which never


failed.

And while in Edinburgh she'd also buy for
herself. She wanted to look her very best
when they went to Drummond House. Andrew
Drummond rather fascinated her.

Shopping, it was the best tonic in the world
and something she absolutely adored.


*


sT7SSoS

U0P shon Moments later the door be.l was
pinging as he went inside.

103


The shopkeeper was old and fat with thinning
hair, a long lock of which he had plastered across
the top of his forehead.

'Yes, sir, can I be of assistance?'

Sean jerked a thumb in the direction of the
window. 'There's a sword in there I'd like to
look at.'

'You mean the Japanese sword, sir?'

'Aye, that's the one.'

vSean watched the shopkeeper move away. A
Japanese sword in Glasgow! What a stroke of
luck. He might have searched high and low for
years before coming across one for sale. It was
his lucky day.

'There we are, sir.' The shopkeeper smiled,
laying the sword in front of Sean.

Sean wrinkled his nose. 'It's a bit rusty,
isn't it?'

'Some rust, I grant you that, sir. But it will
polish up beautifully.'

'That's as might be.'

Sean lifted the sword and pulled it slowly
from its black enamelled scabbard. The rust
was mainly confined to the hilt, with only a
few spots on the blade.

'What's the asking price?' he queried.

'Thirty shillings, sir.'

Sean pretended to be shocked. 'You must be
joking! What are you, a comedian or something?'

The shopkeeper inclined his head slightly. He
was used to haggling. 'These are extremely rare,'
he countered.

'So what? It's only an old sword when all's
said and done. It's probably been lying in that


104

window of yours for years.' Sean ran a hand over
the scabbard. 'See what I mean!' he exclaimed
when his palm came away covered in dust.

The shopkeeper grinned ruefully. 'It has been
with me for a while, I admit. But that doesn't
take away from its value.'

'I'll tell you what,' Sean said, sounding
reluctant. 'I'll give you ten bob and I reckon
I'm still being done.'

The haggling continued until at last a
triumphant Sean left the premises having
bought the sword for a pound. A pound
he could ill afford but nonetheless a pound
he considered well spent.


*



'Here, look at this, Bridie,' Kathleen said,
tapping the newspaper she'd been reading.
'What is it, Ma?'

'A position as a maid on a big estate.'

Bridie rose from her chair and hurried across

the room to stare over her mother's shoulder at

the ad Kathleen was indicating. 'I don't know,'

she demurred. 'Look where it is. It would mean

leaving home.'

'Aye, that's so,' Kathleen agreed.
'What are the wages?' Pat asked.
'That's not mentioned,' Kathleen informed


him.

He sniffed. 'A domestic servant. A bit of a
comedown for a Flynn. Plenty of Irish folk have
been domestics, but never us Flynns. We've
always considered ourselves above that.'


105



'Beggars can't be choosers,' Kathleen commented
quietly.

'Unemployment the way it is there are bound
to be lots of applicants,' Bridie said.

'True enough,' Kathleen agreed. 'But it
wouldn't do any harm to write. No harm
at all.'

'And it is in the country,' Bridie mused,
straightening up, thinking how wonderful it must
be'to live there. Trees, grass, animals no doubt.
The prospect sent a little thrill racing through
her. What a difference it would be to the life
she'd known so far. The dirty grimy Glasgow
streets, the filth, the squalor. Air that could
make you choke when you breathed it in.

Suddenly she was filled with excitement,
wanting this job badly. Til write straight away
and catch the morning post. There's nothing to
lose after all except a sheet of paper, an envelope
and a stamp.'

The country, Bridie thought again, eyes
shining. Oh but wouldn't that be lovely.


*


'What's that you're carrying?' Sammy Renton
queried when Scan strolled into the room of the
condemned house where the others were already
gathered and awaiting his arrival.

Scan held up the long brown paper-wrapped
object. 'You'll never guess. It's a wee present
from me to us all.'

'Is it a piece of fancy plumbing,' Mo Binchy
joked, and guffawed.


106

'Or a year-old turd?' Dan Smith said, which
raised a laugh all round.

'Very funny,' Sean retorted, and began
unwrapping the object.

'Wow!' Bobby O'Toole exclaimed when the
sword was revealed. A sword that sparkled
and was completely free of rust, Sean having
attended to these matters in the privacy of his


bedroom.

'Holy Mother of God,' an awed Noddy

Gallagher whispered.

'It's the genuine Japanese article,' Sean
proclaimed, brandishing the weapon.

'Is it sharp?' Bill O'Connell queried.

'As my razor. It would cut your head off quick


as wink.'

'No thanks, Sean,' Bill hastily replied,
fingering his throat. Til go without that if
you don't mind.'

That raised another laugh.

'Would anyone else like a demonstration of
head cutting?' Sean teased.

The response was a chorus of refusals.

Sean waved the sword in front of him. 'Not


bad, eh?'

'Where did you get it?' Jim Gallagher asked.
'A junk shop I happened to be passing. Cost


me a quid.'

'She's a beauty,' Noddy Gallagher commented.

'It is indeed,' Sean agreed.
'Can I hold it?' Mo requested.
'Aye, sure.' Sean handed it over, Mo holding
the sword gingerly while he admired it.

'I thought we'd put it in pride of place on


107



the mantelpiece. What do you say?'

Sammy Renton nodded at Scan. 'That's a
grand idea.'

'Will you take it outside anytime?' Mo Binchy
inquired.

Scan's eyes gleamed. 'Who knows. Mo. Who
knows?'

He grinned wolfishly. 'Maybe.'


*


'So, what's the big mystery?' Bridie demanded of
Teresa, the latter having arrived at her house to
urgently request they go for a walk together.

'I couldn't talk with your parents and sister
about. What I have to say is confidential like.'

Bridie noted how twitchy her friend was.
'Well?'

'You know I've been going out with that chap
Tony from work.'

Bridie smiled. 'And what a surprise it was
when he asked you. You were quite taken aback
from what you said.'

'I was. He'd never shown any interest before,
and then suddenly, out the blue, would I like
to go out? Darned tooting I would. I jumped at
the chance.'

'So what's the problem?'

Teresa swallowed hard. 'Remember that dance
we went to when the bloke mauled you in the
back close.'

Bridie remembered only too well. 'Horrible
it was. He was a right animal.' She stopped
abruptly. 'Has Tony done the same to you?'


108

Teresa coloured. 'In a way, only in my case it
wasn't a mauling, more of his being insistent.'
'Insistent?'
'Aye, you know.'
'You didn't let him touch you . . . there,


did you?'

Teresa was now bright red. 'I did.'

'Oh Teresa, how could you!'

'It was easy enough at the time, Bridie. He's
not a bad looker, and his kissing! I just melted.
I didn't know whether I was coming or going,
only that I liked it.'

Bridie shook her head. 'I'm ashamed of you,
Teresa Kelly, I really am.'

Teresa almost changed her mind then about
telling Bridie the rest. But she had to confide in
someone, unburden herself. 'I'm afraid it went
further than touching,' she stated in a quiet,

cracked voice.

Bridie was aghast. 'You mean . . . ?'

Teresa nodded.

'All the way?'

'All the way,' Teresa repeated.

Bridie couldn't believe she was hearing this.
It was awful. Apart from anything else, what if
Tony opened his mouth and word got round?

'That's not the worst thing though,' Teresa
went on, tears beginning to overflow.

Bridie knew with sudden certainty what was

coming next.

'I've missed my monthly.'


109


7

i


Andrew bustled into the drawing room where the
Seatons were grouped together talking. 'Sorry
I wasn't here to meet you but I got caught
up at the distillery. A minor crisis that I had
to sort.'	li

'*

He was slightly dishevelled, a lock of
hair having escaped over his forehead, which
Georgina thought charming. Catching his eye
she smiled.

'I see you've already been given a drink, good.'
Andrew nodded his approval to Ellen who was
also in the room.

'One for you, sir?' Ellen inquired.

'Please. A Drummond.'

'Well,' said Andrew, briskly rubbing his hands
together. 'How was the journey?'

'Thoroughly enjoyable,' Willie replied. 'I must
say your Perthshire scenery is quite beautiful.' 

'Why, thank you. I've always considered it to
be so.'	1

The long-awaited moment had finally arrived,
Rose thought gleefully. She was in Andrew's
company again. And how wonderful that felt.
A small flush of excitement crept on to her
cheeks which she hoped no one noticed.

'Here you are, sir,' Ellen said, offering a silver
tray to Andrew.

'Thank you, Ellen.' So prim and demure
while on duty, he smiled inwardly. Well, he


110

knew what the real Ellen was like, a different


"StaTS his glass aloft in a toast. 'Slainthe. And welcome to Drummond House
'To Drummond House and you, Andrew,
Willie responded.


*


Scan was alone in the condemned tenement,
sitting gently caressing the sword on his lap.

What now for the Samurai, he wondered?
Were they just a gang, a bunch of hooligans?
Or could they be something else? Only what?

The other city gangs did nothing, at least not
that he was aware of, except fight and create holy
terror wherever they went. Surely there could be
more to it than that.

And then he had the glimmerings of an idea.


Profit. Was that it?
Not just a gang but some sort of business that

made them money.

'Money,' he murmured aloud. 'Money.'

He continued caressing the sword, deep in

thought.


*


'This saddle of lamb is really superb, Charlotte
Andrew's sister, pronounced. 'Mrs Clark has
excelled herself.' Mrs Clark was Andrew's cook
who'd been with the family for years.

Til pass on your compliments, Andrew


replied.

Ill

ir


'No need, I'll tell her myself later. I'll also
ask her what she's done to make it different to
any saddle of lamb I've ever tasted before.'

Andrew laughed. 'Oh come on, sis, you know
Mrs Clark won't divulge any of her secrets.'

'She will to me,' Charlotte stated firmly. 'You
see if she doesn't.'

How contented his sister looked, Andrew
observed. Being a minister's wife and a mother
suited her. He couldn't have been more pleased
for her, she thoroughly deserved her happiness.

Charlotte was doing a splendid job of hiding
the unease she always felt on returning to
Drummond House. On the one hand it held so
many wonderful memories of her childhood and
growing up. On the other, it was in this house
that her first husband Geoffrey had hanged
himself.

Poor Geoffrey, what a changed man he'd been
on returning from the war. So changed she'd
hardly recognised him as the same person. She'd
put it down to the war, of course, and tried to
cope. And then the dreadful truth had finally
emerged.

Geoffrey had lost his manhood to a German
grenade. The torment he'd gone through because
he was unable to be a proper husband, as he
put it, to her. Torment and despair that had
ultimately driven him to taking his own life.

She closed her eyes, recalling how it had
once been between her and Geoffrey. Those
golden, carefree days before the conflict, in
stark contrast to the time afterwards. There
were still occasions, usually late at night when


112


John was fast asleep but she lay awake, when
the nightmare vision of Geoffrey hanging there
came back to haunt her.

She knew she couldn't blame herself for his
suicide. She'd done everything in her power to
assure him what had happened didn't matter.
Except it had, very much so, to Geoffrey, God

rest his soul.

Andrew was thinking how gorgeous Georgina
was looking that evening. She was wearing a
low-waisted dress in silk georgette. The bodice
was cut straight and beaded in a swirly pattern.
Thin straps with matching beading snaked across
her shoulders. The skirt had soft gathers that fell
into points at the hem.

Was it the stunning dress or something else
that had brought such a twinkle to her eyes,
he wondered? Again, he thought it a pity she
was married. And to a friend at that. Forbidden
territory. Beyond the Pale.

'I've never met a writer before.' Rose smiled
across the table to Jack Riach.

The neither,' added Georgina.

Hettie gazed in admiration at Jack, sitting
beside him as she always did, helping him with

the meal.

'There's one thing I've been wondering about,'

Rose said hesitantly.

'Which is?'

She cleared her throat. 'I hope you don't think
this rude or insensitive of me, I don't wish to

offend.'

Jack guessed the question. 'How does a blind

man write? Is that it?'

113

'Yes Rose nodded.

'I'm also curious about that,' Georgina said.
Jack laughed. 'It's simple really. I dictate to
Hettie who puts it down on paper. She then
reads the dictation back to me and does any
changes I wish to make. As I said, simple
really.'

'Oh!' Rose exclaimed. Now why hadn't she
thought of that. 'You must be a very clever
man to write Rose went on. 'I envy you the
ability.'

'He is clever Hettie agreed.
'I wouldn't say that,' Jack demurred.
'Come on. Jack, you're just being modest.
You're a hero hereabouts. And I'm not referring
to the war either. Getting not just one but two plays on the West End stage takes some doing
John McLean stated.

'I was lucky Jack, becoming embarrassed,
replied.

'Luck be damned Andrew declared. Then,
to the rest of the table, 'Jack is about to start
his first novel, aren't you, Jack?'
Hettie tensed.

'A novel!' Georgina exclaimed. 'I say. What's
it all about?'

'I really don't want to talk about it Jack
answered. 'Anyway, to be truthful, I'm not quite
certain what it's all about myself yet.'

Fibber, Andrew thought. Jack knew well
enough. He gestured to Heather, one of the
maids, to refill their glasses.

Willie was thoroughly enjoying himself. The
meal was splendid as was the company. He


114


couldn't have asked for a better evening. And
later, perhaps, he and Andrew could do some
more reminiscing. Which might also be the
chance to put the proposal he had in mind to
Andrew -- the reaction to which was uncertain.

'Do you keep horses, Andrew?' Rose queried.

'Of course.'

'Would it be possible to go out for a ride
tomorrow morning?'

Andrew recalled another young lady who had
also enjoyed riding. That was how he'd met her
when her horse had bolted and he'd gone to the
rescue. The start of what had become a love
affair.

'That's fine, Rose. Tell the groom to give you
Sophie. She's probably the best horse for you.'

'Thank you.'

When the main course was cleared away,
dessert was offered. Both Rose and Georgina
declined.


*


'Another?' Andrew queried. He and Willie were
alone, the McLeans and Riachs having left long
since while Georgina and Rose had excused
themselves and gone up to bed pleading that
it had been a long day.

'Please.'

Andrew fetched the decanter and crossed to
Willie, recharging first Willie's glass then his
own. They were reminiscing about their time

in Ireland.

Willie hesitated, then said, 'It's been on my


115



mind for a while now to go back there, you
know. Take Georgina and Rose, make a holiday
of it.'

Andrew sat. 'Really.'

'Not for too long, of course, a fortnight seems
about right to me. The thing is, I'd love to see
old Dublin town again and show Georgina and Rose the sights.'

'When shall you go?'

'In the New Year, certainly before spring when
it all starts to get hectic again on the estate.'

Andrew pondered that. 'You might have a
rough crossing at that time of year.'

'Possibly.' Willie laughed. 'At least we won't
have to worry about damned U-boats and being
torpedoed.'

'True,' Andrew mused.

Willie had a sip of whisky. 'Have you ever
thought about returning?'

That startled Andrew. 'No, I can't say I have.
When I left I . . . ' He broke off. 'I certainly
never envisaged a return.'

Willie swirled the amber liquid round his
glass. 'May I speak openly, Andrew? As one
friend to another?'

'Go ahead.' He leant back in his chair and
waited.

'It worries me that you've never married.
None of my business, of course, but it worries
me nonetheless. I can't help thinking you may
still be carrying a torch for Alice.'

Andrew continued watching Willie, and didn't
reply.

'It seems to me that going back there might


116



help. Lay the ghost so to speak.' Willie took a
deep breath. 'If you wish me to shut up just
say so.'

Andrew had a swallow of whisky. 'That's all
right, old boy,' he said in a voice that was just
above a whisper.

'Would I be correct about Alice?'

Andrew gave a self-mocking laugh. 'If anyone
had told me before I met her that one day I'd
carry a torch for a dead woman, any woman
come to that, I would have roared in their face.
And yet, that's precisely what's happened. I have
met women over the past few years, but no one
I could really get interested in. Not that way
anyhow.'

Willie nodded that he understood.

'How did you manage it, Willie, after you lost
your wife?'

'I don't know,' Willie replied slowly. 'I too
thought I'd never be interested again, then I met
Georgina and all that changed. I do believe Mary
would have given her blessing to the union. In
fact I'm convinced of it.'

'Perhaps there's a Georgina somewhere for
me,' Andrew mused. 'Though I haven't come
across her yet.'

Willie lit a cigarette. 'And Ireland,' he queried
through a cloud of smoke. 'Why don't you come
with us? We could travel as a foursome, myself,
Georgina, Rose and you.'

Would it help, Andrew wondered? He simply
didn't know.

'Can you leave the distillery for a couple of
weeks?'


117



'That would depend entirely on Charlotte. She
would have to take my place while I was away.
But yes, given enough time to arrange things
I'm sure I could.'

'Then you'll think about it?'

A number of seconds ticked by before
Andrew finally answered. 'I'll think about it,'
he promised.


*


Bridie was hovering by the front door when she
heard the postman mount the stairs and then go
on past. She turned away in disappointment.

'There should have been a reply by now she
said to Kathleen on re-entering the kitchen.
'It might still come.'

Bridie shook her head. 'The people on the
estate might at least have had the courtesy
to answer my letter., even if it was to say I
wasn't suitable or the position had already been
filled.'


'That's the toffs for you. No manners
whatsoever,' Kathleen declared angrily.

Bridie just didn't know where to try next for
a job. Despair, which was never far away these
days, filled her yet again.


*


Andrew, Willie and Georgina were emerging
from the distillery when Rose appeared riding
towards them.

'There she is now,' Willie said. He was cross


118


with his daughter for not turning up when she
should.

Rose reined in and slid to the ground. 'Is it
over?' she queried.

'Yes it is,' Willie retorted. 'We waited and
waited then finally went ahead with the tour
when you failed to show. What happened?'

Georgina gave Rose a hard, disapproving look
which Rose ignored.

'I'm afraid I got lost.' To Andrew she said,
'Sophie's a beautiful horse. We had a fantastic
time together.'

'I'm pleased.' He smiled.

Rose hadn't got lost at all. For the past
half-hour she'd been observing the distillery
waiting for them to come out again. It was
part of a plan she'd hatched the previous night
after the arrangement to tour the distillery had
been made.

Rose patted Sophie on the nose. 'Who's a
lovely girl then. You are, Sophie.'

'You might at least apologise to Andrew,'
Willie declared.

'I am sorry Andrew. Truly I am. I was so
looking forward to the tour and now . . . ' She
pulled a face. 'I've missed it.'

'Hardly your fault you got lost. Easy to do in
strange surroundings. Another time perhaps.'

'Unless . . . ' She trailed off. 'Probably not. I
don't deserve it. I've caused you enough trouble
as it is.'

'Hardly trouble, Rose. Unless what?'

'Do you think you could bear to take me
round now? I'd be ever so grateful.'


119


'Rose!' Willie admonished. 'You can't ask
that.'

Andrew laughed at her crestfallen expression.
'Of course I can. Rose. I'd be delighted to
do so.'

Her heart leapt. The plan had worked. She'd
get him to herself after all, just as she'd
hoped.

'Could you take Sophie back for me. Pa.
Please?'

'I suppose I'll have to,' Willie grumbled,
grasping the reins.

'See you both later,' Rose called out as she
and Andrew went inside.


*


'And this is the inner sanctum,' Andrew
declared, throwing open the door.

It smelt of him, she thought. A most pleasant
odour as far as she was concerned. She glanced
around. 'Very workmanlike.'

Til take that as a compliment.'

'It was meant as one.'

'So tell me, Rose, what do you think of my
distillery? You've seen it all now.'

'Wash stills, pot stills, wort and all sorts of
other funny names. It all seems very complicated
to me.'

He laughed. 'Not that complicated, I assure
you. But it does take some learning which I
had to do more or less from scratch when I
returned from Ireland. My brother Peter was the
one trained to take over, I had no experience of


120

4

the distillery whatsoever. I soon learned though,
I was a willing pupil.'

He rubbed his hands together. 'Can I offer
you a dram? I'm going to have one myself.'

That shocked her. 'Whisky! Women don't
drink whisky.'

'My sisters do. They were brought up to it as
are all the women in my family. It's a tradition

with us.'

'How extraordinary,' she commented.

'How about a weak one with lots of water. Nor
will I take offence if you don't like it, whisky is
something of an acquired taste.'

'And strong she pointed out.

'That too.'

She decided to tease him. 'I hope you're
not thinking of getting me tipsy in order to
take advantage.' She fluttered her eyelashes.
'Are you?'

'Most certainly not,' he protested.

She turned slightly away. 'Who knows? I
might even enjoy succumbing.'

The little minx was flirting with him, he
thought. Well, well, well.

'You might,' he replied slowly, seeing Rose in
quite a different light. She'd lost weight, he now
noticed. It suited her. Made her more mature
somehow.

And how fetching she looked in her riding
gear. Underneath the hacking jacket was a plain
white, broadcloth shirt undone at the neck,
that tucked into fawn jodphurs which in turn
were tucked into black leather riding boots. He
wondered what son of underwear she had on.


121


Rose felt herself flushing under his direct
gaze. Damn! She could have done without
that.

Andrew smiled inwardly on seeing the flush.
Til get those drams,' he stated, and strode
past her.

Rose swallowed hard. What on earth had
possessed her to say 'succumb'. God alone
knew what he'd made of that.

There you are,' Andrew declared. 'Well
watered down as promised.'

He held his own glass up in a toast. Slainthe.r

'Slainthe,' she responded, and nervously had
a sip. It took all her self-control not to screw
her face up in a grimace. Whisky was foul! She'd
never tasted anything so awful.

'The verdict?' he queried with a smile.

'Very nice,' she lied.

Tm impressed.'

'Are you indeed?'

'Oh yes.'

She had another sip, thinking it as foul as the  first. If his sisters could drink this stuff then so
too could she, she told herself.

When they finally left the distillery her head 
was swimming.

*




Georgina, standing at their bedroom window,
saw Andrew and Rose coming towards the
house. To her surprise she found herself feeling
jealous. She wished it was her out there with
him.


122



'What are you staring at?' Willie asked.

'Andrew and Rose on their way back here.
They must have enjoyed themselves, they're
both laughing.' That fact increased her jealousy.
Again she found herself thinking of Andrew in
a way she shouldn't.

Georgina turned to Willie. 'Are you all right,
my dear?'

It was now his turn to be surprised. 'Yes, fine.
Why do you ask?'

She went to him and stroked his head. 'No
reason.'

Women baffled him at times, Willie thought.
They were creatures that quite defied understanding.


*


Teresa hurriedly left the breakfast table and
rushed to the sink where she was violently sick.
Her mother, Father having already left for work,
stared on in astonishment.

'Teresa?'

Mrs Kelly went to her daughter and put
a consoling arm round her shoulders. 'What
caused that, girl?'

Teresa shook her head. 'I haven't been feeling
well, Ma.' Which was true enough, she hadn't.
There had been recurring bouts of nausea over
the past few days.

Mrs Kelly placed a hand on Teresa's forehead.
'You don't have a temperature.'

Teresa picked up a cup and pumped cold
water into it. She swilled out her mouth and
then spat into the sink. 'That's better.'


123


'Perhaps you should stay home today.'

'No fears. Ma. I don't want to be given the
push like Bridie. I'm going to the factory if I
have to crawl on my hands and knees.'

Mrs Kelly could well understand the lass's
predicament. There had been two more sackings
since Bridie. 'Well, sit down for a moment or
two while I clear out this sink.'

'I'm sorry, Ma. I couldn't help it.'

There's no need to be sorry. If you're ill
you're ill. Nothing more has to be said.'

Teresa staggered back to her chair and plonked
herself down. She now knew without any shadow
of a doubt she was pregnant. She might have
missed only one period but all the dreaded signs
were there. Up the duff. In the pudding club! If
Ma found out, if Da ... All hell would break
loose.

And it had only happened just the once, that
was what was so unfair. It wasn't as if she'd
been doing it with Tony for months on end.
There had only been that single occasion in the
back close. He'd tried since of course but she'd
always managed to stop him.

'You are looking pale now I come to think
about it,' Mrs Kelly commented from the
sink.

Teresa didn't reply. She couldn't go on being
sick in the morning. Her ma wasn't cjaft, she
would soon realise what the situation was. She
groaned inwardly. What to do? She'd speak to
Bridie that evening, she decided.


*
124

'She really is the most beautiful car, Andrew.
I think I shall try and persuade Willie to buy
one,' Georgina said as the Rolls purred through
the Perthshire countryside. He was keeping the
promise he'd made when in Perth and giving
her a spin.

Andrew drew into the side of the road and
switched off the engine. Rolling down the
window he inhaled deeply.

'Shall we get out and stretch our legs?' she
suggested.

'If you like.'

She waited for him to open her door.

'The Pass of Killiecrankie,' he declared when
they were both standing together.

'Wasn't there a famous battle fought here?'

'Oh indeed. A lot of good men died that
day.'

She gazed about her. 'There is a melancholic
feel about the place. It sort of lowers, if you
know what I mean.'

Andrew thought of that long-ago battle and
tried to imagine what it must have been like
to take part. For some reason an image of his
brother Peter came into his mind.

'Can I ask you something, Andrew?'

He roused himself from his reverie. 'Of
course.'

'It's personal.'

'Go on,' he said softly.

'I asked Willie what happened to your fiancee,
but he wouldn't tell me. Said it would have to
come from you.'

'I see,' Andrew murmured.


125


'Will you tell me?'

He closed his eyes for a moment, memories
flooding back. Dreadful memories that didn't
only include Alice.

'The Fenians murdered her, torched her
house. She and her mother and father were
burned to death.'

Georgina covered her mouth. 'How ghastly!'

McGinty, Andrew thought grimly. At least the
Fenian bastard had paid, him and his. An eye
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. He hoped the
bastard was roasting in hell.

'And you've never got over it?'

Andrew ran a hand across his face, remembering
. . . remembering . . .

'Andrew?'

He shook himself, returning to the present.
'Sorry. I was miles away.'

'With her?

'Yes,' he said. 'I was thinking of Alice and
what might have been.' He paused, then added
quietly. 'A single night and it was all over. My
future, hers, all gone.'

'A single night?'

'The one she died.'

Compassion filled Georgina. He'd obviously
been very much in love. Suddenly the day wasn't
so glorious any more.

Andrew sighed. 'But that's in . the past.
Gone for ever. Now is what's important, and
tomorrow.'

She wanted to take him in her arms, hold
him, comfort him. 'Yes,' she agreed.

He turned to face her, a crooked smile lighting


126

up his face. 'And you?'

'Something similar. The war.'

'I see,' he murmured.
'Why . . . Why does it all have to be so
difficult. So painful?'

He shook his head. 'I don't know. Perhaps
that's what life is really all about. Pain. Pain
and the way it affects you. The way you cope.'
He shook his head again. 'I don't know.'

Georgina stared up over the Pass of Killiecrankie,
imagining the clash of swords, the screams of
wounded and dying men, the total carnage of
battle. It was horrible.

The Pass of Killiecrankie was a spot Georgina
would never forget after that day.

Two wounded souls had touched.

Silence descended between them.

'Willie has asked me to go to Ireland with
you,' Andrew eventually said.

'Really?'

'He said it might help lay the ghost.'

'Of your Alice?'

'Yes.'

'I wasn't aware we were going to Ireland. I
knew Willie was thinking about it, but not that
we were actually going.'

'Well, it seems you are.'

'And shall you come?'

'Until now I wasn't sure, hadn't decided. But
now I have. I will.' Again he thought of McGinty
and McGinty's family. Revenge was fine, but in
retrospect... It took away part of yourself, your
soul. In the afterlife he'd pay for what he'd done.
Of that he was absolutely certain.


127


Georgina shivered. 'It's cold.'
'We'd best be getting back.'
She laid a gloved hand on his arm. 'I'm sorry
for what happened, Andrew. Truly I am.'
'So am I,' he replied softly. 'So am I.'


8


Bridie and Teresa were having another walk
together so they could speak freely. 'You're
absolutely certain?' Bridie queried.

'I couldn't be more so. I was sick again
this morning, that's the third time this week.
Ma's beginning to look at me very strangely
indeed, though so far she hasn't said anything.
Besides the sickness and missing period I
just feel different. It's hard to explain, a
sort of ... contented wellbeing that wasn't
there before.'

'You'll have to face Tony about this, Teresa,'
Bridie counselled. 'Tell him he must do the
proper thing and stand by you.'

But would he, Teresa worried? There was no
saying.

'When are you seeing him again?'

'This Friday. We're supposed to be going to
the flicks.'

'Then speak to him on the way home. Explain
the situation.'

The street was hardly the place to give a chap
such news, Teresa thought. It would have to
be the back close where the deed had taken
place.

'From what I know of Tony he's a decent
lad. He won't let you down.' Bridie hoped she
was right.


128

129


*


'What's wrong with you?' lan Seaton demanded
of Rose sitting in front of the drawing-room
fireplace. 'You look miserable as sin.'

Rose snapped herself out of her reverie. 'Do
I?'

'Worse.'

She'd been thinking of Andrew and her stay
afc Drummond House. It had all gone well
enough but, to her disappointment, Andrew
hadn't taken any special notice of her. Not in
the way she'd wanted anyway. Now she wouldn't
see him again before the proposed visit to Ireland
some time in the new year.

'Well?' lan queried.

'I suppose I'm just down in the dumps.'

'Oh. Any special reason?'

'No she lied.

'I know how you feel, I get that way myself
occasionally. Though not too often I have to
admit.'

That afternoon Rose had come within an
inch of confessing her feelings about Andrew to
Georgina, then at the last moment had decided
not to. Some instinct had warned her that would
be the wrong thing to do.

If only she could talk to someone though.
Certainly not her brother, she wasn't going to
hand him that kind of ammunition.

'Is there anything I can do to help buck you
up?' lan asked kindly.

'No, I don't think so.'

'How about a joke. Or some funny faces?' And


130

with that he contorted his features and squinted
both eyes inwards.

'Idiot.' She smiled.

'See! It's working already.'

If only a few funny faces could sort out her
troubles, she thought.

'Perhaps a board game then? I could dig out
one of those we used to play as children.'

'No thanks, lan. I'm not in the mood.'

'Oh well,' he sighed. 'Don't say I didn't try.'

'It's sweet of you and I appreciate it. But I'd
really rather be left alone.'

'If you wish.'

'Thank you, lan.'

At the door he paused and glanced back at his
sister who'd gone into herself again. He closed
the door quietly behind him.


*


Bridie was outraged. 'He said what!'

'Wanted to know if I was certain the child

was his.' Tears welled in Teresa's eyes to go

running down her cheeks.

'I hope you smacked him for that.'

Teresa shook her head. 'I was too taken aback,

too hurt. I mean, how could he possibly think I

might have been with someone else? WTiat does

he take me for!'

'And what about getting married?'

'He wouldn't entertain the idea, Bridie. Said

he was too young and didn't earn enough

money. He also said it was best we didn't see

one another again.'


131


'He just . . . walked away?'

'More or less.'

Fury filled Bridie that her best friend had
been treated in such a manner. If Tony had
been present she would have slapped him.

'Oh Bridie,' Teresa whispered. 'What am I
to do?'

'Tell your folks I suppose. What else?'

Terror lit up Teresa's face. 'Pa will thrash
mer with his belt, and it'll be the thrashing of
a lifetime. As for Ma ... I daren't even think
what she'll say. She'll be beside herself and go on
about our good name being dragged in the dirt.'

'Surely your father won't thrash you, being
pregnant.'

'Oh aye, he will. And I wouldn't put it past
him to do it on my bare backside either. My
pa's got a terrible temper.'

They walked a little way in silence, Teresa
snuffling into a handkerchief. 'There is of course
another way,' Bridie said eventually.

'How do you mean?'

'There are women who I've heard can get rid
of it for you. I don't know any myself, but they
are around.'

Teresa went white. 'That's a mortal sin, Bridie.'

'Aye,' Bridie agreed.

'I could never do such a thing, murder my
own baby.'

'It is a grisly prospect right enough. But
consider the alternative. I don't mean the
thrashing or your ma having fits. Who'd marry
a lassie with a bastard in tow? Not many round
here. If any at all.'


132

'They'll call me tart and whore,' Teresa
whispered, wishing with all her heart she'd
never gone out with Tony, or let him . . . She
shuddered.

'At least Tony's kept his mouth shut so far,
that's to his credit, if little else is. And I can't
see him bragging that he's got you in the family
way. Not when he's abandoned you like he has.
That would hardly put him in a good light.'

Murder her baby, Teresa thought, and
shuddered again. A mortal sin if ever there
was. If only she could wake up and find this
was all a nightmare. What she wouldn't have
given for that. Only she wouldn't be waking
up, for although it was a nightmare it was real
enough.

They arrived back at Bridie's close. 'Do you
want to come up with me?' Bridie asked.

Teresa shook her head. 'No, I'll go on
home.'

'And face the music?'

Teresa considered that. 'Not yet. Who knows?
A miracle might happen. I could still lose it
naturally.'

'Aye, there is that possibility.' Though
unlikely, Bridie thought. Teresa was as healthy a young woman as you'd find. Still, as Teresa
said, a miracle could happen.

'Oh Teresa,' Bridie murmured, and touched
her friend gently on the cheek.

Teresa attempted a smile which was pathetic
to see. 'At least things can't get any worse.
There's at least that.'

'Aye, there's at least that.'


133


*


Bridie was humming as she washed up the
breakfast dishes. Kathleen had gone to the
communal toilet their family shared with the
other two families on the landing.

Kathleen re-entered the kitchen. 'You'll never
guess what.'

Bridie turned to her mother. 'What?'
v Kathleen held up a letter. 'They've finally
decided at long last to answer your application.'

Elation filled Bridie for a brief moment, then
died. 'Throw it on the table. Ma. I'll read it
later.'

'It might not be bad news.'

Bridie shrugged. 'Some hope after all this
while.'


'You never know. Come on, open it. If you
don't I will.'

She picked up the tea towel and dried her
hands. 'All right, give it here. May as well get
it over and done with.'

It was from the estate right enough, Bridie saw
from the postmark. Anyway, who else would it
be from? She never received any mail.

Bridie unfolded the single sheet of paper and
quickly scanned its contents. Colour mounted
her cheeks.

'So?' Kathleen demanded.

'They ... ' She couldn't contain her
excitement. 'They want me to go for an
interview next Monday and they'll reimburse
my expenses getting there and back.'

Kathleen laughed and clapped her hands.


134


'There you are. It wasn't bad news after all.'
Bridie simply couldn't believe it. She'd

become convinced there wasn't going to be

a reply to her application. Now she not only

had a reply but an interview too.

'I wonder how many they'll be seeing or have

already seen?' she mused.

'Aye, there is that,' Kathleen nodded.

Til have to get the money for the rail

ticket and things, Ma. That's going to be a

problem.'

'You leave that to me, lass. I'll see to it.'
She mustn't get too excited, Bridie told

herself. It was only an interview after all, not

a job offer. It could still all come to nothing.


*


Hettie answered the door to find Andrew
standing there. 'Andrew! What a lovely surprise.
Come away in.'

'I'm not intruding I hope?'

'When did you ever do that. You're welcome
as always.'

Not for the first time he thought what a
wonderful atmosphere the inside of the Riach
cottage had. Warm, cosy and . . . full of love.
It enveloped one like a blanket.

They went through to the sitting room.
'Where's Jack?' he queried, seeing the room
empty.

'Upstairs putting wee Tommy to sleep. Telling
him a story no doubt. Something horrible about
pixies and goblins probably, Tommy adores


135


those. The more bloodcurdling the better.'

'Is the lad well?'

'Never better. Now how about a cup of tea,
or perhaps something stronger?'

'Whisky would be fine.'

'Then whisky it is.'

Andrew settled himself into a comfortable
chair. 'I came to ask Jack's advice.'

'Oh?'


'You remember the Seatons who came to
stay?'


'Of course. Nice people. It was a grand
night.'


'Willie is planning a holiday in Ireland and
wants me to go with him. Or them actually. I
said yes, but now I'm having second thoughts.'
She handed him a glass. 'And why's that?'
'You know my fiancee was killed by the
Fenians, Hettie. Ireland has bad memories and
associations for me.'

'I see.' She sat facing him.
Hettie didn't know about McGinty and
neither did Jack. Only he did. It was a secret
he'd never divulged to anyone.
'Are you scared?'


That startled him. 'Scared? I wouldn't put it
exactly like that.'

'Then how would you put it?'
He considered that. 'I'm not sure. .There's
certainly nothing to be scared of.'

'Except what's in yourself,' she said softly. He smiled at her. 'How very perceptive of
you, dear Hettie. Jack fell on his feet when he
married you.'


136

'And so did I, Andrew. Most certainly so.'

'I envy the pair of you. In the nicest way of
course. You're so very happy together.'

'I certainly can't deny that,' she agreed.

Hettie studied Andrew, seeing the loneliness
that was in him. A loneliness he so often
succeeded in disguising.

'Will you go?' she queried.

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened
them again. 'It would mean going to the
graveyard. I couldn't be in Dublin and not.'

'You're saying that would be opening an old
wound.'

'Definitely, Hettie. Definitely.'

She sighed. 'Well, I don't know what to
advise, Andrew. It seems to me only you can
make up your mind whether or not you go.
But . . . ' She trailed off.

'But what, Hettie?'

'If I was in your shoes I would.'

He nodded.

'By the way, speaking of the Seatons. Jack
says that lassie Rose is sweet on you.'

Andrew stared at her in amazement. 'Jack
says?'

'Heard it in her voice. Don't forget that
being blind Jack's other senses are heightened.
He hears things, nuances if you like, that we
sighted people often miss.'

Andrew recalled the day in his office when
Rose had flirted with him. He thought it just
a female lark. But perhaps there was more to
it than that.

'I'm old enough to be her father,' he protested.


137


Hettie raised an eyebrow. 'She's pretty.'

'And young.'

Hettie didn't reply to that.

'Hmmh,' Andrew mused.

'Would the age difference worry you all that
much?' Hettie queried softly.

'If it didn't me it certainly would her father.'

They both laughed.

'Willie would turn cartwheels if he thought I
was interested in Rose. No no, the whole thing's
preposterous. Completely out of the question.'

'I liked her Hettie stated. 'I liked them
all, but particularly her. You could do worse,
Andrew Drummond.'


'She's far too young,' Andrew repeated. 'Only
a child.'


'You've a lot to learn about women I fear, Andrew. Oh, I know you may have had plenty
of experience with them in the past, but you
still have a lot to learn.'

It suddenly dawned on Andrew that Ellen
Temple was only a few years older than Rose.
But that was different. Quite different. And
Ellen wasn't the daughter of a friend and
ex-colleague.


*


'Oh come along, son, you've always got a few
quid stuffed away somewhere. Lend it to me,
it's only for a few days.'

Sean Flynn shook his head. 'Honestly, Ma,
I'm skint. If I had it I'd give it to you.'

Kathleen wasn't sure whether to believe Sean


138

or not. 'Are you certain? This is important.'

'I swear to you, Ma, on any saint you care
to name, I'm totally and utterly broke.'

When Kathleen had gone Sean sat on his bed,
angry with himself for not being able to help his
ma whom he held in high esteem. Money, why
did so many things always boil down to that?
If only he was rich, able to afford whatever he
fancied. My God, wouldn't that be something.

He thought of what it must be like being a
toff. No hard graft for them, but a life of luxury.
A big house, car, fancy women. Never having to
worry where the next penny was coming from.

It could be worse, he consoled himself. He
was in work, things would be ten times harder
if he wasn't. Look at Bridie, she never went out
nowadays unless it was searching for a job. Poor
bitch. He pitied her.

He swore, then lay back on his bed. A big
house, car and fancy women. The stuff of
dreams.

Or more than that?


*




Kathleen stopped outside the pop shop, a place
she loathed going into. It was so degrading and
she always felt soiled after being in there.

'Why hello, Mrs Flynn.' The pawnbroker
smiled at her when she was inside.

'Hello, Mr Gordon.'

'Your dad's watch again, is it?'

She hated when he said that, which he
always did. For years now she'd wanted to


139



slap Mr Gordon across the face. Tm afraid
so.'


'A little financial difficulty I take it.'
How he got under her skin. 'I wouldn't be
here if there wasn't.'
'Aahhh!' he sighed.

He loved the plight of the poor unfortunates
who had to use him, she thought. Positively
revelled in it. The man was an utter swine
through and through.

Kathleen laid her father's watch on the
counter. How often had it been here, she
wondered? Times without number. 'The same
amount,' she said.


Gordon considered beating her down a little,
add a bit of zest to the day. Then decided to
be magnanimous. 'Naturally.'


It would be enough, Kathleen thought. Bridie
would have her train ticket.

'I'll be back to reclaim it next week,' she
stated when the money had been counted out
and safely deposited in her handbag.
'Of course,' Mr Gordon replied.
She had to force herself not to slam the door
behind her. If anyone could make you feel small
it was Mr bloody Gordon.


*


'That's wonderful!' Teresa exclaimed, having
called in on Bridie and been told the news
about the interview.

Tm thrilled to pieces.'

Teresa's face fell. 'Except it means that if you


140


get it you'll be away from here. What will I do
for a pal?'

Tm sorry, Teresa, there's nothing I can do
about that. Besides, it's only an interview.
There's no saying I'll get the job.'

That brightened Teresa somewhat. It wasn't
that she didn't wish Bridie every success with
the interview, she did. But on the other hand
it would be awful to lose her.

'Monday morning you say.'

'Aye, that's right. I've already been to the
station and bought my ticket. I'm raring to

go-'

Pat came into the room. 'I'm off out then,

hen,' he declared to Kathleen.

'He's on a very important committee,'
Kathleen informed Teresa. 'What about that!'

'A committee,' Teresa repeated. Tm impressed.'
'Oh aye,' Kathleen went on proudly. 'My Pat's
becoming somebody nowadays so he is.'

'What sort of committee?' Teresa inquired.

'To do with the Union,' Pat lied. 'Right then,
that's me.'

'Wait and I'll walk you out,' Kathleen said.
'It's time I fetched Alison.' Alison was at a
neighbour's playing with their daughter who
was in her class at school.

'Aye, sure. But come on then, I don't want
to be late. Looks bad.'

Kathleen hurried from the kitchen to get her
coat with Pat following her.

'So tell me,' Bridie said to Teresa when the
outside door had clicked shut. 'Have you spoken
to your folks yet?'


141



Teresa shook her head. 'I've been too feart.
Anyway., the morning sickness seems to have
stopped. At least for now. Which gives me some
breathing space.'


'You're going to have to speak to them sooner
or later.'


'I know. It's just . . . Well I keep hoping for
that miracle to happen. I pray every night that
it will.'

v'And if it doesn't?'

Teresa thought of her father and his belt.
And that would only be for starters. She hung
her head.


Bridie took her friend in her arms and held
her close.


*


'Jesus, you're good, Patrick Flynn,' Geraldine 1
Buchanan murmured to him later that night.

He visibly swelled.

'It's like being rogered by a steel piston.'

Pat had never heard the word roger used
in that context before but understood what it
meant. 'Aye, well, there you are!'

She ran a hand over the forest of hair covering
his chest. Dougal was good in bed but couldn't
compare to Pat. What a find he was.

'Will you get me a drink?' he asked.,

'Of course.'

'Whisky and beer. I'm thirsty as hell.'

She laughed. 'I'm not surprised after that
performance. You were terrific.'

Kathleen never said that to him he reflected.


142

She took it all as a matter of course. Nor
was she as responsive as Geraldine who, on
occasion, could make so much noise he thought
the neighbours must surely hear.

Geraldine slipped from the bed and into her
negligee, an exotic delight Dougal had brought
her back from the Far East. It was made of pure
silk and patterned with fiercesome dragons and
brightly hued birds.

Pat watched her as she tied the belt round
her waist. What a figure, he thought, smiling
at the memory of what he'd just been doing to

it.

Til just be a minute, lover,' Geraldine said,

and left the room.
Lover! Pat sighed with satisfaction.


Ar


Bridie stared in awe through the window of the
car that had been sent to meet her as The Haven
came into view. It was like something out of one
of those romantic novels she read.

And the grounds surrounding it, they defied
description. She might have died and gone to
paradise.

Bridie closed her eyes. Dear God, Holy
Father, please let me get this job. Now I've
seen this place I've never wanted anything so
much in my life. I'll work ever so hard, I
promise. They'll never find fault with me. Not
in a thousand years.

She opened her eyes again to continue staring
at The Haven. How many rooms did it have?


143



She couldn't even begin to imagine. Oodles and
oodles.


Bridie glanced down at her clothes in dismay,
her church Sunday best. The black three
quarter-length coat suddenly looked old and
shabby while the shepherd-checked tailored suit
she had on underneath was hopelessly out of
date and fashion.


She was only going for a position as maid she
reminded herself. They wouldn't expect her to
turn up looking a glam puss or wearing the very
latest style. No, no, she was adequately dressed I
and neat and tidy with it.

What would this Mr Seaton be like, she
wondered, for it was he who'd written to her?
Formidable no doubt. And posh as all get out.
She must mind her P's and Q's right enough.
Excitement throbbed within her.


*


Mrs Coltart popped her head round the door.
'Can I have a word with you, sir?'

'Of course, Mrs Coltart.'

She came to stand before him.

'Now what can I do for you?'

'I've just interviewed the last girl for the
maid's post, sir, and wish to talk to you about
her as she's the one I'd like.'


Willie leant back in his chair. 'So wh'at's the
problem?'

'It's her religion. She's a Roman Catholic.'

'Aahhh!' Willie breathed.

'We've never had a Catholic here before, sir,


144


and I don't know your feelings on the matter.'

'She's definitely the one you want, Mrs
Coltart?'

'Definitely, sir. There were only four
applications as you're aware and as far as
I'm concerned she's the most suitable.'

'And why's that?'

'Her enthusiasm, sir. She was bubbling
with it.' Mrs Coltart smiled. 'She'd never
been outside Glasgow before and thinks the
countryside is absolutely wonderful. She was
full of it.'

Willie made a pyramid with his hands and
frowned in concentration. A Catholic working
at The Haven? He wasn't at all sure about
that. It might lead to trouble. 'It was a poor
response to my advertisement,' he murmured,
still thinking.

'Very, sir.'

'I expected far more applications.'

'In truth, sir, so did I. But there were only
the four.'

'What about the rest of the staff, would she
fit in?'

'I believe so, sir.'

'Not only as a person but with the religious
difference?'

'I still believe so, sir. If I'm wrong, and there
was conflict, then the matter would have to be
sorted.'

He nodded. 'Did you explain there isn't a
Roman Catholic church hereabouts?'

'Yes, sir. She was disappointed but said she'd
just have to put up with that.'


145


'Hmmh. What's her name?'

'Brigit Flynn, sir. They call her Bridie.'

Willie gave a soft laugh. 'You can't get a more

Catholic name than that. Irish I presume.'
'Descent, sir.'
Willie took a deep breath. 'Leave this with

me, Mrs Coltart. I wish to mull it over for a

while.'

'Certainly, sir.'
Mrs Coltart left him to it.


*


Kathleen's eyes were fixed on Bridie as she
eagerly tore open the letter that had just arrived.
Seconds later Bridie squealed with delight.

'I've got the job, Ma. I've got it! I start the
beginning of next month.'


Kathleen breathed a sigh of relief. 'Well done,
lass. Well done.'


Her prayers had been answered, Bridie
thought in exhultation. Thank you, God.
Thank you.


146


9


'We must be feeding this lassie too much,' Mr
Kelly commented affably across the tea table.

Teresa went very still, a piece of sausage
halfway to her mouth.

'Oh?' Mrs Kelly smiled at her husband.

'Look at her, she's putting on weight like
billyo.'

Mrs Kelly glanced at Teresa. 'I do believe
you're right. I hadn't noticed.'

Teresa returned the piece of sausage to her
plate and swallowed hard. She had started
putting on weight though she'd been pretending
to herself that she wasn't.

Mr Kelly chuckled. 'It's your good cooking,
Ma. And her healthy appetite.'

Mrs Kelly was frowning. 'She hasn't been
eating more than usual. So why should she
suddenly start putting on weight?'

'It must be the cakes,' Teresa muttered.

'Cakes?' Mrs Kelly queried.

Teresa's mind was whizzing. 'Aye, a few of
the lassies at work take it in turn to bring some
in. Cream cakes and the like. It's just a wee treat
amongst ourselves,' she lied.

'She's always had a sweet tooth, Ma. You
know that.'

Mrs Kelly nodded her agreement. That was
true enough. She had a sweet tooth herself,
simply adoring chocolate whenever she could


147



get her hands on some.

Should she speak up now., Teresa wondered,
quailing at the prospect? No, she couldn't, not
after that cock and bull story about cakes. She
couldn't see her father's belt from where she
was sitting, but pictured it in her mind. The
belt would be pulled free and . . . She shuddered
inwardly.


Her da might appear the genial sort, always
laughing and joking. But you crossed him at
your peril as many, including herself, had found
out. As though a switch had been nicked he'd
turn from a nice, pleasant man into a raging
monster. She'd seen it happen many times.

'Well, you'd better watch it, girl. We don't
want you becoming a two-ton Tessie now,
do we?'
'No, Da.'

'Go easy on those cakes.'
'I will, Da. I promise.'

'A funny thing happened at work today,' Mr
Kelly declared, changing the subject, and the
others listened attentively while he recounted
the story.


She was running out of time, Teresa thought
desperately. Who would've imagined she'd have
already begun to show!


*


'What's a Samurai?' Alison Flynn piped up from
the floor where she was playing with her golly.
'No idea, lass,' Pat replied from behind his
newspaper.


148



'You know, don't you, Sean? You're the leader
of that gang.'

Sean could have wrung his little sister's neck.
'Leader of a gang?'

Pat's newspaper slowly descended to his lap.
'What's all this then?'

'She's blethering, Da. Forget it.'

'I am not blethering,' Alison snapped hotly.
'Molly Molloy's parents were talking about it
the other day when I was round there. They
didn't know what a Samurai was either.'

'Son?' Kathleen queried softly.

'Are you in a gang, you stupid bugger? Do
you want to get yourself marked or something?
I thought you had more sense.'

Sean glared at his father. 'So what if I am.
What's it to you? And don't call me a stupid
bugger ever again.'

'Or what?'

'Stop it you two,' Kathleen said sternly. She
then rounded on Sean. 'Are you?'

'Yes I am.'

'And its leader?'

He nodded.

'Holy fuck!' Pat swore, and dashed his
newspaper to the floor. 'I can't believe I'm
hearing this.'

'The Samurai were ancient Japanese warriors,'
Sean explained to Alison.

Bridie, who'd been out to the toilet, breezed
in, then came up short. 'What's going on?' she
queried, looking from face to face. Something
clearly was up. You could have cut the
atmosphere with a knife.


149


'Your brother is the leader of a gang Kathleen
informed her.


Bridie was incredulous. 'You must be joking.
Our Scan?'

'Aye, our Scan,' Kathleen responded.

'Well, not for long,' Pat declared. 'I forbid
you to belong to any gang, Scan, far less be its
leader.' He leant forward. 'Do you hear me?'

'I'll do what I bloody well like. I'm not having
you. lay down the rules to me any more.'

Pat was immediately out of his chair. 'How
dare you speak to me like that? I'm your
father.'

'So what?' Scan replied insolently.

Kathleen also came to her feet ready to divert
any trouble. 'Will you two give over. I'm not
having any trouble in my house.'

'He started it,' Scan declared.

A frightened Alison had gone to Bridie and
taken her hand. Bridie squeezed it reassuringly.

'It doesn't matter who started it. Enough is
enough.'


Pat was staring daggers at Scan. 'You're going
to finish with this gang. I want your word on
that. Heaven's sake, do you know what the gangs
get up to? You could end up dead or scarred
for life.'

'That's right, son,' Kathleen agreed.

Should he lie, make a promise he had no
intention of keeping? He didn't see the point. If he lied they'd only find out eventually.

'I'm old enough to make my own decisions.
And I'm staying in the gang and I'm staying its
leader.'


150

'Like hell you are!' Pat roared and, pushing
his way past Kathleen, advanced on Scan who
instantly leapt up.

'Don't hit him, Pat, don't hit him!' Kathleen
pleaded, clutching at Pat's shirt.

He tore himself free and continued on towards

Scan.

'Hit me and you'll regret it,' Sean spat.

Pat's fist flashed, smacking Sean on the
shoulder. 'I won't be defied,' he shouted. 'I
won't be defied!'

The blow was only a glancing one but enough
to make Sean lose his temper. 'Right, you old
fart, you've been asking for this for years!'

Kathleen screamed as the two men fell upon
one another.

'Holy Mary mother of God,' a wide-eyed
Bridie whispered. This was awful.

Alison whimpered and fled behind Bridie's
skirt from where she peeped out.

A kitchen chair went crashing. Pat roared
again when Scan's fist found its mark. Blood
spattered from his nose.

Neither of them were pulling their punches,
this was in deadly earnest. Another kitchen chair
went clattering away.

Sean grunted, that had hurt. He lashed out

in retaliation.

'Stop it! Stop it!' Kathleen shrieked, hitting

them both.

Some mantelpiece ornaments, including a
plaster madonna, went tumbling to the floor
where they all broke.

Pat succeeded in getting Sean in a bearlike


151


grip., the pair of them swaying to and fro.

Suddenly it was all over. Somehow Scan's
head smashed into his father's chin knocking
him unconscious. Pat's arms dropped away
and when Scan released him he fell to lie
sprawling.


Scan stood over Pat, sucking in deep breaths.
'You old fart he repeated.

'You've killed him!' an hysterical Kathleen
gapped. Next moment she was on her knees
beside the fallen Pat. Bridie, with a now crying
Alison still clinging to her skirt, hurried over.

'Pat, Pat, speak to me,' Kathleen urged,
slapping him lightly on the cheek. Pat's reply
was a groan.

'He's not dead,' Scan stated.

'No thanks to you!' Kathleen retorted.

Bridie knelt beside her mother. 'He's just
knocked out, Ma. He'll soon come round.'

'I'm off,' Scan declared and, wheeling about,
strode from the room.


Pat opened one eye, then the other. 'What
happened?'

Kathleen explained.

'Where is he now?'

'Gone out.'


Pat was secretly pleased. He didn't fancy
another tangle with Scan. The lad had surprised
him.

_

'Let's get you back into your chair,' Bridie
suggested.

'Oh, Dada. Dada,' Alison wailed.


*
152


'I've been thinking,' Georgina said.

Willie looked over. 'Usually when you say that
it costs me money.'

She laughed. 'How right you are. As it could
in this instance.'

Willie sighed. 'Well?'

'Why don't we have a party on Hogmanay?
Invite about a dozen folk or so. Maybe more.'

'What a smashing idea,' Rose chipped in.

'Who would we ask?'

'The McLarens I thought. Their daughter
Moira isn't long back from Switzerland. It
would be interesting to hear how it went over
there for her.' Moira McLaren had been to a
Swiss finishing school.

lan grunted. He remembered Moira as a
horrible little so and so. They'd never got on.

'Hmmh,' Willie mused. He rather liked the
idea of a party. It was ages since they'd
entertained properly. 'lan?'

'Sounds all right.'

'We could also invite Andrew Drummond.'
Rose smiled innocently.

That startled Georgina, inviting Andrew being
the whole reason for her suggesting the party.
Now Rose had saved her the trouble of
mentioning him.

'He must be lonely in that house all by
himself,' Rose went on. 'Though no doubt he
usually goes to his sister's on Hogmanay, or to
his friend Jack Riach's. Coming here would be
a change for him.'

Georgina eyed Rose shrewdly. Not for the
first time she wondered about Rose's interest


153



in Andrew. There again, Andrew was excellent
company.

'I quite agree Willie said. 'It would be a
change for him. And while here he and I could
discuss plans for Ireland.'

'Settled then?' Georgina asked.

Willie nodded. 'You go ahead and do what
has to be done. A Hogmanay party it is.'

Georgina smiled inwardly with satisfaction
while Rose was trying hard not to show her
excitement.


*


'That's brilliant Teresa said. 'I couldn't be
more happy for you.' Bridie had just told her
the news about her job.

'We're all delighted,' Kathleen declared. With
the exception of Pat that was, for he was still
scornful of a Flynn being a domestic.

'I start the beginning of next month,' Bridie
beamed.

Til miss you.'

Bridie's face fell. 'I am sorry, Teresa. But you
do understand.'

'Oh aye.'

'I'm going to love it there. You should see
the house and grounds, they're fantastic.'

Teresa nodded. Catching Bridie's eye she
glanced meaningfully towards the door.

Bridie was only puzzled for a moment, then
got the message. 'Anyway,' she declared. 'I've
been home all day and could use a breath of
air. Do you fancy a walk, Teresa?'


154

'I do indeed.'

'I really am pleased for you,' Teresa said as

they left the close.

'Thank you. Now what's all this about? Has

that miracle happened?'

Teresa gave a hollow laugh. 'If only it had.
No, I need your help, Bridie. The help of

a pal.'

'Of course. Just say.'

'I've, eh ... ' Teresa broke off, she still
couldn't believe she was going to be doing this.
But in the end, what choice did she have? 'I've
decided to use one of those women we spoke of
and want you to come with me for support.'

Bridie frowned. 'What women?'

'The ones who . . . ' She gulped. 'Give you

an abortion.'

Bridie halted and stared at Teresa in
consternation. 'Are you serious?'

Tm afraid so. I couldn't face bringing up a
bastard, Bridie. And as you pointed out, what
man would marry me with one of those in tow?
I'd be a spinster for the rest of my life.'

'But you were so against it.'

'I know. I know. Only I've changed my

mind.'

'A mortal sin, Teresa. Don't forget that.'
Tears welled in her eyes. 'I'm not forgetting.

But maybe God will be merciful. Understand

my reasons and forgive me.'

They resumed walking, Bridie full of sympathy

for her friend. It was a terrible decision to have

to make. 'I thought you didn't know any of these

women?'
155

'I didn't. And then., quite by chance, a name
came up in conversation at the factory. She's
called Mrs Quinlan and she's agreed to do it
this Friday.'

'You've been to see her?'

'Well, I had to. You can't just turn up at
her door and ask for it to be done there and
then.'


Bridie was curious. 'What's she like?'
'I wasn't sure what to expect, some old crone
perhaps. But Mrs Quinlan is as normal as can
be. She's not even old. Late thirties I'd judge,
maybe early forties.'
'What about money?'

'I've been saving up for a while now. Nothing
much, just a wee bit put by every week for a
rainy day.' She laughed again. 'Well if this isn't
a rainy day I don't know what is.'
'How much?'

'Five quid. Paid up front on the night.'
'I see,' Bridie murmured. The last thing she
wanted was to be party to this sort of thing,
but she could hardly let Teresa down. Teresa
certainly wouldn't have let her down if the
positions had been reversed, not that they ever
would have been.

'What time Friday night?' she queried.


*


Scan, Noddy, Jim Gallagher and Mo Binchy
strolled into the ice-cream shop which was empty
apart from the owner behind the counter.
'Hello, Mr Rizzio,' Scan said casually.


156

'Hello, lads. What can I do for you? Some nice
cornets with raspberry sauce on top perhaps?'
'It's more what we can do for you.'
Rizzio's face became anxious. There was
something wrong here. He could tell. 'Like

what?'

'You get trouble from time to time, don't

you?'

'Not really.'

'Well you could do. I'm certain of it.'
Mo Binchy pretended to slip, knocking over
a large glass bowl of wafers in the process. The
bowl smashed on the floor sending wafers flying

everywhere.

'Oh, sorry, Mr Rizzio,' Mo said. 'How clumsy

of me.'

'Hey, you do that intentionally.'

Mo was all innocence. 'What a nasty thing

to say.'
'You did. I no wrong.'

'An accident,' Scan smiled thinly. 'Amazing
how they happen when you least expect it.'

Rizzio was becoming extremely uneasy. 'What
this all about?'

Scan glanced around. 'Lovely place you've
got here. It would cost a lot of money to do
up again.'

'Do up . . . ' Rizzio spluttered.

'You know how violent this area is. Fights
break out all the time. If a big one happened
in here it could wreck the shop. I can just see
it, broken tables and chairs, ripped wallpaper,
even your ice-cream machine there might get
broken.'


157


Rizzio was appalled. That sort of damage
could put him out of business.

'Mind you, it wouldn't if you were protected,'
Sean said slowly.

'Protected?'

'Aye, by the Samurai. Have you not heard
of us?'

Rizzio shook his head.

Sean produced his cut-throat razor, flicked it

open and laid it on the counter in front of the

now terrified Italian. Rizzio stared at the razor as

though it was a deadly snake about to strike.

'We're the gang round here,' Sean stated.
'There are lots of us in it.'

'A gang,' Rizzio said, and swallowed hard.

'Some of the others are outside making sure
we're not disturbed like. Understand?'

Rizzio nodded.

'Now for a small sum per week we'd make
sure nothing happened here. We'd put the word out that if it did whoever was responsible would
have us to deal with. And that wouldn't be
healthy for the person or persons. Get my
meaning?'

'Oh yes,' Rizzio breathed.

'So what do you say?'

'It's daylight robbery.'

'Not at all,' Sean replied smoothly. 'It's
insurance, that's all. And that's how yo.u should
think of it.'

Mo Binchy put his heel on a piece of broken
glass and scrunched it underfoot. Rizzio winced
at the noise it made.

'Why me?' Rizzio queried.


158

'Why not? As I said, you've a good business
here, it would be a crying shame to see it . . . '
He broke off and shrugged. 'Well you know.'
'And what this . . . insurance cost me?'
The agreed sum had been two pounds a week.
Sean now changed his mind thinking, what the
hell! The man was almost shitting himself.

'A fiver.'

'A fiver,' Rizzio gasped. 'That no possible.'

'Oh yes it is,' Sean said, voice loaded with
menace. 'Oh yes it is.'

'And what if I tell police?'

'That would be a terrible mistake on your
part.' He picked up the razor. 'One you'd regret
the rest of your life I assure you.'

Rizzio knew he was beaten. Sean's threats
were no idle ones. You didn't make idle threats

in Glasgow.

Rizzio nodded. 'I take your insurance.'
'Payments starts right now and someone will

be round once a week to collect from now on.

Clear?'

'Clear,' Rizzio mumbled, going to his till.

Number one, Sean thought triumphantly. The
first of many.


*


lan Seaton was in a bad mood. The weather
that day had been terrible, little outside work
had been done on the estate and those who had
been outside had soon been soaked through. He
still felt chill, despite the roaring fire and bath
he'd had, and wondered if he had a cold coming


159


on. He listened to the rain. Had it stopped at all
since early morning? It was hammering against
the window panes,
'lan?'

He glanced over at Georgina. The pair of
them were alone in the drawing room. 'Yes?'
'Can I speak frankly?'
He raised an eyebrow. 'If you wish.'
'You worry me sometimes.'
*Do I indeed. Why, Georgina?'
'You never seem to show any interest in
women. It doesn't seem natural to me.'

He laughed, amused. 'Do you think I might
be a nancy boy or something?'

Georgina coloured. 'Such things are known.'

'Well, you can put your mind at rest. I have no

interest in that direction, nor have I ever dabbled

as some chaps do at school. I'm quite normal.'

'I'm pleased to hear it.'

He leant forward. 'You didn't really think I
was queer, did you?'

'No, but . . . well it does happen, even in the
best of families.'

'I like girls well enough, Georgina, but you
can't say they're exactly thick on the ground
round here now, can you?'

This time she laughed. 'True enough.'
'I meant suitable ones of course. There are
always the maids, mind you, but I hard,ly think
either you or Father would be best pleased if I
cast an eye in that direction.'
'No,' she agreed.

'Besides, I'm too busy at the moment learning
about the management of the estate to worry


160

about girls. I doubt I'd have the time to go
gallivanting even if I wanted to.'

'I hardly meant gallivanting.'

'Call it what you will. Come the evening I'm
far too tired to think of anything other than food
and bed.'

'Fine then.'

lan lapsed back into his own thoughts which
brought an end to that conversation.


*


'This is it,' Teresa said, stopping outside a close.
'Mrs Quinlan is two nights up.'

'How do you feel?'

Teresa gave Bridie a pained smile. 'How do
you think? I'm scared out of my brain.'

'Aye,' Bridie sympathised. 'I can well understand
that.'

Teresa stared into the close which had cream
coloured tiles to halfway up its walls. Her
stomach was knotted, her heart beating wildly.
She'd have given anything not to have had to

go in there.

'You can still change your mind,' Bridie said


softly.
Teresa laughed hollowly. 'Can I? I don't

think so.'

Bridie took her friend's arm. Tm with you.

Just remember that.'

'And I'm grateful. Far more than you probably
realise. I doubt I could do this on my own.'

'It's almost eight, Teresa. We should go
on up.'

161


Teresa sucked in a deep breath. 'I just hope
it doesn't hurt too much, that's all.'
Bridie failed to see how it couldn't.


*


For the umpteenth time Bridie glanced at the
clock on the mantel-piece. It was over an hour
now. What was keeping them?

She started when she heard a muted scream.
Dear God! She suddenly began to sweat
profusely, her armpits quickly awash, sweat
coursing down her back.

And still the clock continued to tick.


*


'All done.' Mrs Quinlan beamed, ushering
Teresa into the sitting room where Bridie was
waiting.

Bridie caught her breath at the sight of Teresa
whose face was milk-white and strained in the
extreme.

'Everything go all right?'

'Perfectly,' Mrs Quinlan replied, still beaming.
'Now I recommend you take her home and put her to bed where she should stay for the weekend
if she's any sense. Come Monday morning she'll
be right as rain.'

Teresa staggered over to Bridie and clutched
her. 'Let's get out of here,' she mumbled.

Til see you both to the door,' Mrs Quinlan
declared, still beaming.

'How was it?' Bridie queried as they slowly


162

made their way down the stairs, Teresa holding
tightly on to her.

'Don't ask. And don't ask how she did it. The
answer to that would give you nightmares.'

Teresa began to cry and they stopped while
Bridie searched for a handkerchief.


*


Teresa woke from what had been a deep sleep.
Not fully awake, but a sort of peaceful state in

between.

Her ma had been full of concern when Bridie
had explained that she'd come over ill which
was why Bridie had brought her home. Mrs
Kelly had thanked Bridie profusely and then
proceeded to take her through to bed which,
at that moment, had been the most welcome
sight she'd ever seen.

The pain had gone, she realised. That terrible
griping pain that had been gnawing at her insides

ever since . . .

'Dear God, forgive me please. And understand,'
she muttered. Til be a good girl from
now on. It'll never happen again. I swear to you
on all that's holy.'

Sleep was beckoning her again, blissful,
blessed sleep. Sleep she desperately craved.

Was it her imagination or could she really hear
a voice saying she was forgiven? Imagination
surely. And yet it seemed so real somehow.

Forgiven.

She drifted off with a smile on her face.


163


*



Mrs Kelly answered Bridie's knock. It was
Saturday morning. 'Hello, Mrs Kelly. I thought
I'd call by and see how Teresa is. Maybe cheer
her up a little.'

Mrs Kelly's face crumpled. She tried to speak,
but couldn't. She tried again, and this time
succeeded. 'Oh lass, oh lassie,' she croaked.

A sudden chill ran through Bridie, goose
bumps breaking out all over her. 'What is it?
What's happened?'

The crumpled face collapsed even further
while tears sprang into what Bridie now saw
were red-rimmed and puffy eyes.

'It's Teresa. She had a haemorrhage in the
middle of the night and . . . and . . . ' Mrs
Kelly swallowed hard. 'And died.'

164


10


'Turn round, girl,' Mrs Coltart instructed.

Bridie, wearing the black and white uniform
she'd been issued with, did as she was bid.

Mrs Coltart nodded her approval. 'It'll do.
Though when you have the chance you might
take the hem up an inch. Can you do that,
Bridie?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Well turn round again then.'

Mrs Coltart studied Bridie who'd arrived
earlier that afternoon. 'The girl you're replacing
was dismissed for theft and not given a character.
I trust we'll have no such problems with you.'

'You won't, Mrs Coltart.'

'Right then. Now go and find Jeannie Swanson
whom you're sharing a room with, she should be
on the second floor, and she'll show you what to
do. Stay with Jeannie till the end of the week by
which time you should have learned the ropes.
At least as far as your current duties will be.
Do you understand?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Then off you go.'

'Thank you, Mrs Coltart.'

Bridie went in search of Jeannie Swanson
whom she found easily enough.


*



165

Bridie's eyes were popping at the amount of
food that had been laid out for their supper.
The table was positively groaning.

She accepted a tureen from the girl next to
her and helped herself to thick pea soup.

The atmosphere in the servants' hall was
warm, literally., and friendly. Everyone seemed
most relaxed.

Mrs Kilbride, the cook, reigned at one end
of'the table, Mrs Coltart at the other. They
kept their own counsel, but others were chatting
amongst themselves. It was Mrs Coltart who'd
said grace.

When the meal was finally over Bridie felt as
though she must surely burst. Whatever else you
could say about being a domestic, lack of food
wasn't something you apparently had to worry
about.

Not at The Haven anyway.

Bridie collapsed on to her bed, an iron affair
that was surprisingly comfortable, having just
completed her first full day, and groaned. 'My
feet are killing me. As for my legs, they ache
like billyo.'

Jeannie Swanson, a thin stick of a girl with
popping, protuberant eyes, grinned at her.
'You'll soon get used to it, I promise you.'

'And getting up when we do. That's something
else. I rose early in my last job, but that was a
long lie compared to this.'

Jeannie started to remove her uniform. 'Apart
from the moans do you think you'll like it here?'

'Oh yes. The rest of the staff are ever so nice
and helpful.'


166

'Aye, they're a good bunch right enough. We
all get on well so I hope you fit in.'

Til certainly do my best.'

Jeannie paused, then glanced curiously across
at Bridie. 'Is it true what I hear? That you're a
Catholic?'

Bridie nodded.

'We've never had one of those here before.'

'Is it likely to cause a problem, Jeannie?'

Jeannie considered that. 'I don't think so.
We're all fairly tolerant, at least to the best of
my knowledge we are.'

Bridie lay back on the bed, quite exhausted.
'Tell me about Mrs Coltart,' she requested.

Jeannie poured water from their jug into the
bowl it had been sitting on. 'She's very fair. True
she can be a Tartar at times, but only with those
who've asked for it. Strict, mind, oh she is that.
But as I said, fair with it.'

Jeannie washed her face which she then dried
with the towel provided. There were two towels,
one for each of them. The water in the bowl she
slopped into a bucket.

'The only trouble with being here is that it's
so isolated. When you get your day off there's
absolutely nothing to do or anywhere to go.'
They were given one day off a month.

'That won't bother me,' Bridie replied."'! shall
walk which will give me enormous pleasure. The
countryside around here is so beautiful it quite
takes my breath away.'

'Aye, it is that,' Jeannie agreed.
'Walk and read. If I can lay my hands on any
books that is. I love reading.'


167



'The master has a library downstairs,' Jeannie
informed her.

Bridie sat up. 'Really?'

'He must have thousands of books in it, at
least it seems like thousands. All of them leather
bound.'

'What sort of books?'

Jeannie shrugged. 'I don't know. I've never
really bothered to look.'

A sudden gust from under the door caused
their single candle to nicker wildly sending all
kinds of weird and wonderful shapes dancing
round the room's walls and ceiling.

'It's cold up here as it always is in wintertime,'
Jeannie said, shivering. 'The sooner I'm in bed
the better.'

She too, Bridie thought and, getting up, also
began undressing.

Jeannie slipped a flannel nightdress over her
head and once that was on removed her
underthings.

'Last one into bed puts out the candle,'
Jeannie declared, diving under her covers.

A library, Bridie marvelled. She couldn't wait
to see it.

'Goodnight,' she said slightly later, snuffing
out the candle.

'Goodnight, Bridie. Sweet dreams.'

'And you.'


*


Pat reined in Jasper. The card was in Geraldine's
window which meant she wanted a bag of coal.


168

It also meant he'd be having a bottle of beer.

She was waiting for him on the landing, a
nervous smile on her face. 'Hello, Mr Flynn.
How are you today?'

Mr Flynn?

'Please come in, Mr Flynn. You know where

the bin is.'

There it was again, Mr Flynn. And why was

she acting so strangely?

'Dougal,' she whispered as he went past her.

No wonder she was nervous, her husband was
back from sea. There would be no bottle of
beer today, or Friday night visits for a while.
He inwardly cursed.

Til get your money,' Geraldine declared as
he was emptying the coal into the bin, and

hurried away.

Pat was snaking out the bag when he heard a
man's voice, though he couldn't make out what
the man was saying.

Geraldine reappeared. 'There you are, Mr
Flynn,' she said, handing him the correct money.

'Thank you, Mrs Buchanan.'

Pat was leaving the kitchen when Dougal
came into view. He was very tall and very
powerfully built with hands the size of shovels.
Not someone he would wish to tangle with, Pat
thought. No indeed.

'Nice day for this time of year,' Dougal
commented affably to Pat.

'It is that.'

Pat was consumed with jealousy as he left the
Buchanans. All he could think about was what
Dougal would be enjoying that night.


169



Something he'd come to regard as his.

'The committee work is finished for a while,'
Pat announced to Kathleen later on.

'Oh?'

'We've done what had to be done. For the
present anyway.'

'I see.'

He glanced across at Scan sitting morosely
in a chair. He was wary of the lad ever since
the fight, uncomfortable in Scan's presence. He
was only too horribly aware that the balance of
power in the house had changed, and that he
was no longer top dog. In truth, his son now
frightened him.

'But we'll be meeting again soon enough.
Though I don't know exactly when.' How long
before Dougal returned to sea, he wondered?
He had no way of knowing.

Pat shrank back a little as Sean suddenly came
to his feet. 'I'm off out,' Sean declared to his
mother.

'Will you be late?'

'No idea, Ma. I'll be back when I get here.'

Pat felt himself relax as the outside door
clicked shut.


*


Rose stared at herself in her vanity table mirror.
She touched both cheeks, thinking how good
her skin was looking. She could now see bones
where she hadn't before. Losing weight certainly
suited her.

She smoothed down the sides of the envelope


170

chemise she was wearing, the chemise of silk
crepe de chine and the step-in style. It was neatly
trimmed in front with rows of lace insertions,
top and bottom edged with lace to match. Set
off with rosettes, the chemise had silk ribbon
shoulder straps.

Only two more weeks till Andrew arrives, she
thought, a thrill of expectation running through
her. He was coming for four whole days! Four
days in which to try and get him to notice her
the way she wanted him to.

'Andrew,' she whispered, and sighed. How
she craved seeing him again. With all her heart

and soul.

She coloured at the sudden thought of him
standing there staring at her, his gaze feasting on
her near nakedness. How vulnerable that made
her feel. And excited.

In her mind's eye he was now bending down
kissing first one bare shoulder, then the other.

'My darling,' he murmured.

A hand crept round to enfold a breast
which he began to lightly caress. Her eyelids
drooped at the sensations which tingled inside
her. Sensations to die for.

Rose brought herself out of her reverie with a
laugh. She was being daft letting her imagination
run riot like that. Quite silly really.

There again, who knew? The time might
come when fantasy became reality. Beautiful,

wonderful reality.

And it would, if she had anything to do with
it. She was determined about that.

Oh yes.


171



*


'Jack?'

'Yes, Hettie?'

'Why are you looking so odd?'

He chuckled. 'Am I?'

'Your expression is very odd indeed.'

It was night and Hettie had just returned from
putting Tommy to bed which had taken quite a
wMe as he hadn't wanted to go to sleep. And
when Tommy wanted he could keep himself
awake for ages, fighting sleep all the way.

'I was thinking about the book,' Jack stated.

'And?'

Tm considering changing the ending. Not
a happy one as I intended, but something
tragic.'

'But you were so adamant . . . ' She trailed
off.

'Of course I haven't decided yet. I'm still
toying with the idea.' Jack rose from his chair.
Tm going out into the garden for a breath of
fresh air.'

'But it's freezing out there. You'll catch your
death.'

'Not if I put my coat on.' He hesitated. 'Tell
me, Hettie, are the stars out tonight?'

'Yes.'

'A clear moonlit night with lots of stars?'

She smiled. 'Yes.'

'Aah!' he sighed. 'I love starry nights.
Thousands of sparkling pin pricks shining
down from heaven. It's a sight I've always
found so uplifting. It makes you sing inside.'


172

Hettie laughed. Sing indeed! What a funny
way Jack had with words at times. But he was
a writer after all.

'Except during the war,' Jack said softly.
'Starry moonlit nights could be the most
dangerous of all. It's the visibility you see.
For both sides. An awful lot of good men went
west on nights like that.'

Hettie could well imagine. 'Don't forget the
coat,' she said.

'I won't. I promise.'

Once outside he lifted his face to the heavens.
He might be blind but he could see the stars.


*


Andrew was standing at his bedroom window
gazing out, waiting for Ellen to arrive.

He was in a troubled mood. The proposed
Irish trip still worried him. How was he going
.I to react when there?
"	Well or badly? That was the question.

Alice, how he missed her. Dear sweet Alice
whom he'd come to adore with every fibre of

his being.

He closed his eyes. Remembering . . . remembering
. . .


*

*,


'Just our luck to be stranded in bloody Ireland
when there's a war on,' Second Lieutenant
Roberts complained to Andrew, as the pair of
them were out riding.


173



Andrew was a far more experienced rider than
Billy who'd only taken it up eighteen months
previously. He glanced sideways at his friend not
at all sure he agreed with those sentiments.

'Think of the promotions that will be going,'
Billy went on. 'There are bound to be stacks.'

Only because of casualties, Andrew thought
grimly. He gazed about him. It was beautiful
countryside, lush in the extreme. But he wasn't
too keen on the climate, it rained even more
than in Scotland.

'That Captain Kennington's a right bastard,'
Billy said. 'I can't tell you how much I dislike
him.'

Andrew smiled. He got on with Kennington
well enough, it was simply a case of how
you handled the man. Toadying, some people
might have called it, but it worked and, as
far as he was concerned, that was all that
mattered.

'You rub him up the wrong way,' Andrew
commented quietly.

'It's his attitude that gets me, supercilious
swine.'

Andrew reined in on spotting another horse,
the rider a woman obviously in distress.

'I say, look at that,' Billy exclaimed. 'The
beast appears to have bolted.'

'She needs help,' Andrew declared, kicking his
horse forward. Billy immediately followed.

Andrew urged his horse, a powerful gelding,
into a gallop. Slowly he began to narrow the
gap between him and the woman.

The young woman heard their approach and


174

turned her head to stare at Andrew and Billy.
'Help!' she cried.

'Just hold on,' Andrew shouted back, thinking
she could easily be killed or badly hurt if she
came off at that speed. He was well ahead of
Billy whose horse wasn't nearly as fast as his.

Yard by yard, aided by some clever maneuvering
on his part, Andrew gained on them till at last
his horse and hers were neck and neck. Leaning
across he managed to grab the bridle.

For a few moments it was a fierce clash of
wills between them, then the horse began to
ease back and gradually slow.

When the horse finally came to a halt Andrew
leapt to the ground and grabbed hold of its reins.
He then assisted the young woman down.

'Thank you,' she panted. 'That was truly
frightening.'

'What happened?'

She gave a wry grin. 'I was stupid and arrogant
enough to think I could control Midnight, which
clearly I can't.'

Midnight was an apt name, Andrew thought.
The animal was velvet black from nose to tail.

'Just let me catch my breath a minute,' the
young woman said, placing a hand on her

chest.

Billy came charging up, reined in and also
dismounted. 'Everything all right?'

'I think so,' Andrew replied.

Midnight whinnied and threw his head, but
Andrew had him firmly under control.

'Dashed large beast for a girl,' Billy commented.

'He's my father's horse,' the young woman


175



explained. 'My own is unwell and I wanted a
ride. A mistake with Midnight as you witnessed.'

Andrew stroked a neck that was flaked with
foam. 'There there, boy. There there,' he
crooned.

'I'm Alice Fortescue by the way,' the young
woman said.

'Andrew Drummond, Second Lieutenant in
the First Essex based at Dublin Castle. This
is 'my chum Billy Roberts, also a Second
Lieutenant with the same regiment.'

'Delighted to meet you, Miss Fortescue,' Billy
declared, giving her a small bow.

'And I the pair of you. Who knows what the
outcome might have been if you hadn't been on
hand.'

'How far away do you live?' Andrew inquired.

'Several miles in that direction,' Alice replied,
pointing off to their left.	'

'Well I think it best we walk the horses for
a bit,' Andrew said. 'They all need a breather
after that.'

Pretty girl, Andrew was thinking. He placed
her in her late teens, possibly early twenties.
She was dressed in a black hunting jacket below
which flowed an ankle-length grey skirt.

'I lost my hat somewhere along the line,' she
explained. 'It just blew off.' She shuddered.
'I don't mind admitting that gave nxe quite
a scare. Father will be furious if he finds
out.'

'Well, we won't let on, will we, Billy?'

Billy grinned. 'Find out what?'

Alice smiled. 'You're .both very kind and


176

gallant.' She pronounced the latter in the French

fashion.

'As every army officer should be,' Andrew

retorted.

The three of them laughed at that.
Andrew could see she'd got her breath back.
'Shall we get started then?' he suggested. Til
lead my own horse and Midnight.'

'Fortescue isn't an Irish name,' Billy commented
as they got underway.

'The family is originally English. We came
over here in the seventeenth century when
we were granted lands for services to the
Crown. Lands that succeeding generations have
managed to enlarge considerably.'
'I see,' Billy nodded.

'We don't think of ourselves as English any
more, but Irish through and through, albeit
we're Protestants.'

That was interesting, Andrew thought. 'And
what does your father do? If you'll pardon my
inquisitiveness.'

'He runs our estate, which is quite a task I can
assure you. He'll be out now, doing whatever.'
Damn it, Andrew thought, when it started
to rain. A light smir as the Scots call it
which nonetheless soon had them soaking. Alice
seemed oblivious to it.

They made small chat as they proceeded in
the direction of Alice's house till eventually
Andrew decided they could remount. Alice was
instructed to take Billy's horse, the smallest of
the three, while Andrew took Midnight.

'Is this your land we're on now?' Andrew


177



inquired as they proceeded onwards, keeping
the horses to a walking pace.

'Oh yes. Everything round here is ours.'

Andrew wondered just how rich the Fortescues
were. Considerably, he reckoned. Though owning
land didn't always equate with having money in
the bank.

Andrew reined in Midnight when the Fortescue
house came into view. Dear God, he thought, it
made Drummond House look like a cottage! It
was vast.

'Greystones,' Alice smiled to Andrew.

'Very imposing I must say.'

'Far too big of course, costs an absolute
fortune to maintain. We only live in the central
part, both wings have been shut off for years.'

'You're not a large family then?'

'No, only my parents and myself. They'd
hoped for more children but weren't blessed.'

'I have a brother and two sisters myself,'
Andrew informed her. 'While Billy here is one
of five brothers of whom he's the youngest. That
right, old thing?'

'That's right,' Billy confirmed.

Td have loved to have brothers and sisters,'
Alice said wistfully. 'But it wasn't to be.'

'They're a dashed nuisance at times I can tell
you,' Billy grumbled.

'True enough,' Andrew nodded.

'But you wouldn't be without them, surely?'

Andrew considered that. 'I suppose not. Billy?'

'I suppose not either. Though in the past,
when I was growing up, they could make one's
life a misery.'


178

'Well I'd still love to have someone,' Alice

said.

They came on to a long drive that wound its
way towards Greystones, the drive intermittently
flanked by conifer trees. Then they were on to
the driveway itself which, it seemed to Andrew,
could have taken an entire regiment of cavalry.

They dismounted in front of terraced steps
leading to a massive wooden door.

'Would you care to come in and dry out a
bit?' Alice asked.

Andrew was about to accept when Billy
produced his watch. 'I'm afraid that's impossible,
Miss Alice. We really must be getting back.'

Andrew sighed. 'Duty calls I'm sad to say.' If
Billy said it was time to get back then it was.

Alice's face creased with disappointment.
She'd taken a shine to these two young,
personable men. 'I can't thank you enough
for what you did,' she said to Andrew.

'My pleasure, miss. In every cloud, what? It
gave us a chance to make your acquaintance.'

A smile replaced the look of disappointment.
'You're most kind. Perhaps you'll call another

day.'

'Perhaps,' Andrew replied.

He formally shook her hand after which Billy
did the same. Then he and Billy remounted.

'Goodbye, Miss Alice,' Billy said.

'For now,' Andrew added.

They waved as they rode off.


*


179


Andrew brought himself back to the present
with a shake of the head. How clear it all
was in his memory., that first day he'd met
Alice. That day and many others. So very
very clear.

He started when a hand was placed on his
arm. 'Oh, Ellen, it's you. I never heard you
come in.'

'Sorry, did I startle you?'

'No. Not really.'

Suddenly the last thing he wanted was Ellen
in his bed. Not after what he'd just been
remembering.

'I've changed my mind about tonight,' he said
softly.

'I see.'

'Nothing to do with you, so don't worry. It's
simply that I've decided to stay up and think
about some things. Business matters.'

'In the dark?'

'I do my best thinking in the dark. Helps
concentrate the mind.'

She hesitated. 'You're certain it's not me?'

'Absolutely, Ellen. Now toddle off.'

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek then
quietly left the room.

The last thing he now wanted, he thought,
taking off his heavy winter dressing-gown and
climbing into bed.

He wondered what had become of Billy
Roberts, they'd never kept in touch. He must
ask Willie if he knew when he was at The
Haven.


180

*


'Oh I'm sorry, sir,' Bridie said hastily and
returned the book she'd been glancing through
to its place.

lan regarded her with amusement. 'Do you

like books?'

'Oh yes, sir. I've always adored them.'

'And what was that one?'

'Dickens, sir.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Have you ever read
him?'

'Oh yes, sir. But I prefer Sir Walter Scott

myself.'

lan was amazed. A maid who read Dickens
and Sir Walter Scott. How fascinating.

'It's a wonderful library, don't you think?' he
smiled, making a gesture that took in the entire
room.

'Oh yes, sir. That smell, it's unmistakable.
Books, books and more books. It's a smell you
only get in libraries and bookshops.'

'I see you're supposed to be dusting.'

'Yes, sir. I only stopped for a few moments.
I swear.'

'The temptation was too much I take it.'

She coloured slightly. 'Yes, sir. I apologise,

sir.'

'There's no need for that. We're not slave
drivers after all. At least I hope we're not.'

'No, sir.'

He studied her, thinking how attractive she
was. For a servant girl that is. 'You're from
Glasgow I believe.'


181


'That's correct, sir.'

'It must be quite a change for you coming
here.'

'It is, sir. A change for the better. The
countryside is lovely. I plan long walks in it
on my days off.'

'Indeed. And what about reading?'

Her face fell. 'That's the only problem, sir.
I don't now get much time for that as you'll
appreciate. And even if I had it's impossible for
me to lay my hands on books. All mine came
from the public library.'

'Which aren't exactly thick on the ground
round here,' he commented wryly.

She grinned. 'Not exactly.'

'What's your name?'

'Bridie, sir.'

'It suits you. Sometimes people's names don't
but yours most definitely does.'

He crossed to a large imposing desk, extracted
a folder from one of its drawers, the reason he'd
entered the library in the first place, and headed
for the door.

'Goodbye for now, Bridie.'

'Goodbye, sir.'

She hurriedly resumed her dusting.


182


11


'You remember Moira McLaren, don't you,
lan?' Rose smiled. It was the Hogmanay party
and the drawing room was humming with
conversation. In the end thirty invitations had
been sent out, all of them taken up.

lan's jaw nearly dropped open. My God! he
thought. What a stunner. Where was the horrible
little so and so he'd once known and thoroughly
disliked? In Moira's case the ugly duckling truly
had turned into a swan.

'Of course. How are you, Moira?' he said,
extending a hand. The hand that briefly touched
his was cool and elegant.

'I'm very well. And you?'

'Learning the estate business at the sharp end.
Hard work, but enjoyable and rewarding.'

He took in her dress which was made of dainty
all-over embroidered net, the skirt displaying
graceful godet flare inserts of harmonising silk
georgette crepe that had also been used for a
cascade scarf. A nosegay situated on the shoulder
added a pretty touch.

Moira was thinking that he'd matured
considerably. She warmed to him in a way
she never had previously.

'I understand you're not long home from
Switzerland,' he said.

'That's right.'

'And how was it there?'


183


She pulled a face. 'Boring beyond belief. But
it did have its moments I suppose.'

'Wasn't it a finishing school?'

'The boredom nearly finished me off.'

lan laughed.

'But now I'm back and that's all that matters.'
She glanced around. 'Quite a do you've laid on.
I've no doubt we're all going to have a wonderful
time.'

'That was the idea. There'll be dancing later.
Scottish dancing to an accordion. I do hope
you'll have one, if not several, with me.'

'That would be jolly.'

'It's settled then.' He signalled to a maid
carrying a tray of drinks.

'A little refreshment?' he proposed.

Rose smiled to herself. It was as though she
wasn't there, lan and Moira were so intently
focused on one another.

Muttering an excuse she left them to it.


*


Georgina had managed to manoeuvre Andrew
into a corner of the room where, temporarily at
least, she had him to herself. The scent of the
cologne he was wearing filled her nostrils. 'Well,
Andrew, any young lady on the horizon yet?'

He found that somewhat direct, and wondered
at the strange glint in her eyes. 'I'm afraid not,
Georgina.'

'Maybe I shall do something about that.'
He regarded her quizzically. 'Who exactly do
you have in mind?'


184

Herself, she thought. Though would never
have dared say so. 'That's my secret, Andrew.'

'Secret, eh?'

She was teasing him now. 'I don't want any
resistance on your part. I know what men can
be like when they think something, or someone
in this instance, is being pushed at them.'

'Hmmh,' he murmured, and had a sip of
champagne.

Rose was watching them enviously, wishing
it was she who was with Andrew. The two of
them alone together.

'I say, Rose?'

She turned her attention to Alastair Dundee,
a drippy lad who'd been mad on her for years.
'Yes, Alastair?'

It was a good five minutes before she could
get away.


*


Bridie was helping lay out the buffet supper
that Mrs Kilbride and the kitchen staff had
been slaving over for days. There was enough
to feed the entire British army she thought as
she placed a platter of smoked ham on one of
the special trestle tables that had been brought
in for the occasion.

Ham, venison, hare, rabbit, pork, beef, those
were the meats. Then there were salads of all
varieties, potatoes, bread, pickles and chutneys.
The piece de resistance was an enormous bowl
of trifle dominating the centre of the buffet. Her
mouth watered just looking at it all.


185


was making her that way, but also the proximity
of Andrew.

'Miss Rose, a top up?' Bridie queried,
brandishing a bottle of champagne.

'Please.'

'And you, sir?' she asked as she filled Rose's
glass.

'Thank you.'

When she'd done that Bridie moved swiftly
on.

'That's a nice cologne you're wearing,' Rose
remarked. 'I noticed it earlier.'

'I'm glad you like it.'

'More men should wear cologne I always
think.'

'Yes, I quite agree. But it is a personal thing.
Many men consider it effeminate.'

Something Andrew could never be accused of, Rose thought. He was one hundred per cent
male. His maleness positively oozed out of him.

'A minute to go!' Willie called out.

Rose knew what she was going to do, and
thrilled inside at the prospect.

It was almost as if everyone in the room was
holding his or her breath, Andrew thought,
staring out over the assembly. There again, this
was the biggest moment in the Scottish calendar.
The English could have their Christmas, for the
Scots it was Hogmanay. Seeing out the old year
and ushering in the new.

'Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . ' Willie counted
down.

Willie raised his glass aloft. 'A happy new year
to ane an' a!'


188

The room erupted, well wishing, back slapping,
handshaking and toasting going on everywhere.

'A happy new year, Andrew,' Rose said, gazing
deeply into his eyes.

'And a happy new year to you, Rose.'

He bent to kiss her on the cheek, but at the
very last instant she moved her face so that his
lips landed on hers.

That startled Andrew, who now remembered
what Jack Riach had said about Rose.

Rose wished Andrew would put his free arm
round her, but naturally that was out of the
question. But it would have been lovely.

'Well,' Andrew murmured when their lips
parted.

Suddenly embarrassed, Rose glanced away.
She didn't regret having done that, not in the
least. She only wished she could do it again.

The accordionist appeared and immediately
struck up. It was now time for the dancing.

People moved away from the centre of the
room to line the walls. The furniture had been
rearranged the previous day so that there was
now a large area where the dancing could take
place.

Willie took Georgina's hand and led her on
to the floor, quickly joined there by others.

The accordionist stopped, announced an
eightsome reel, and then struck up again.

lan was already up with Moira McLaren.

'Rose?'

Her heart leapt. 'If you're asking me to dance
I'd love to, Andrew.'

'Then shall we?'


189


*


'Here you are, Bridie,' Miss Coltart said,
handing her a schooner of sherry.

'Thank you, miss.'

'It's the only time of the year I condone
drinking amongst the staff. But it is Hogmanay
after all.'

'Yes, miss. Happy new year.'
v Miss Coltart's face softened. 'And you,
Bridie.'

There was still masses to do, the celebrations
would go on for hours yet, so Bridie didn't linger
over her drink.


*


At last, Georgina thought some time later, when
she saw Andrew approach. She'd been waiting
for him to ask her up, which he was now surely
going to do.

'The whisky is all Drummond you'll be
pleased to hear.' Willie beamed at Andrew.

'I should hope so.'

'Champagne is fine, but it gets tedious after
a bit. Not like good old Scottish whisky,
eh?'

'Never that.' Willie had quite a load on
board, Andrew noted. Unlike himself who'd
been taking it easy.

'I was wondering if you care to dance,
Georgina?' he asked.

Td be delighted to.' She handed her glass to
Willie. 'Take care of that for me, darling, will


190

you? Andrew and I are about to trip the light
fantastic.'

Andrew laughed. 'Hardly that.'

'We'll see.'


*


It was a rare event for Willie to get drunk, but
he certainly was now. He sat heavily on their bed
and ran a hand over his perspiring forehead.

'Went excellently I thought,' he slurred.

'Yes it did.'

He struggled out of his jacket and threw
it aside. 'Wine and whisky, shouldn't mix
them.'

'No you shouldn't.'

He beckoned to her. 'Come here.'

Georgina crossed to Willie who pulled her on
to his knee. 'You were the belle of the ball
tonight. Know that?'

'Was I?'

'Without a doubt. By far the best-looking
woman there. I couldn't have been more proud.'

She hoped he wasn't going to kiss her, which
he promptly did. His lips were sloppily wet
which she found disgusting.

'How about a little . . . ?' He broke off and
winked slyly at her.

Georgina laughed. 'You're in no fit state for
that sort of thing, Willie Seaton. You wouldn't
be able to manage it.'

'How do we know unless I try?'

'I know all right. Now the best thing for you
is to crawl into that bed and get some sleep.


191



You're going to have a dreadful hangover in the
morning.'

'Never!'

'Oh yes you will.'

She slipped from his lap. 'Here,, let me help
you with those trousers.

'Don't need any help,' he further slurred.

She stood watching in amusement as he
struggled with his braces, eventually managing
to pull them over his arms. 'You're right, it is
difficult,' he confessed.

'Let me.'


She removed his shoes and socks, then assisted
him out of his trousers. Til hang this lot up,' she
declared.


Willie wormed his way up the bed until his
head was resting on the pillows. He closed one
eye in order to try and focus, something he was
suddenly having a problem with. 'Best-looking
woman there,' he repeated.

Moments later he began to snore.


*


Bridie's last thoughts before she dropped off
were about Teresa. As always she'd remembered
Teresa in her prayers and asked God to forgive
her.


She recalled the funeral and how awful that had been. As had the wake afterwards. During Jthe latter Mrs Kelly had drawn her aside.	*

She'd denied knowledge of knowing anything. As far as she was concerned Teresa had died of
a sudden haemorrhage, presumably the result of


192


internal bleeding, and that was that.

Mrs Kelly hadn't believed her, but was willing
to accept she'd keep her mouth shut about
the real reason for Teresa's death. It was an
unspoken pact between them to save Teresa's
reputation and the Kelly family's good name.

Goodnight, Teresa, she said in her mind.

Then she was asleep.


*


Georgina sat staring at herself in her vanity
mirror. Dare she? Dare she actually do it?

She pulled the duck-egg blue negligee she
was wearing tighter about herself. She knew
such things went on, were commonplace even
in certain circles. It was wrong of course, terribly
wrong. But oh so very tempting.

Willie snorted and turned over. Georgina
glanced at him and thought of their lovemaking
two days previously. Another failure as far as
she was concerned. He'd left her so high up in
the air it had taken ages for her to come down
again. Nor, because of the circumstances, had
she been able to give herself satisfaction.

Georgina drew in a deep breath, then slowly
exhaled. She was tipsy, but not to the point
where her thinking was muddled, not fully
appreciating what she was contemplating. There
would be no excuses come morning.

She smiled inwardly. Hardly come morning
for it was already that. But it would be hours
before anyone stirred in the house, apart from
a few of the staff. The party had finished so


193


late it would be noon before most were up and
about.

Dare she? That was the question. She could
make an awful fool of herself which would be
terrible. There again, as the saying went, nothing
ventured nothing gained.

And she was so curious. So very very curious.


*


Andrew came groggily awake, dimly aware that
Ellen was sitting on his bed. Now why was
that, he hadn't asked her to come. Then he
remembered he wasn't home but at The Haven.
His eyes snapped open.

'Sshhh!' Georgina whispered, placing a finger
over her lips.

'Georg . . . what's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong.'

'Then why the hell are you here?'

'I just wanted to ... be with you.'

'Jesus Christ!' Andrew swore, pulling himself
upright. 'Where's Willie?'

'Sound asleep, drunk as can be. It'll be hours
and hours before he comes to.'

Andrew's mind was whirling. This was bloody
dangerous. 'You'd better get back to him at
once. On you go and we'll forget all about this
madness.'

'Please don't be cross with me,' she pleaded.

Tm not cross.'

'Yes you are.'
He studied her in the darkness. 'What do you
mean be with me?'


194

'I should think that was obvious.'

'But you . . . you're Willie's wife and he's my
good friend.'

'I know,' she replied softly, reaching out for
his hand which he quickly snatched away.

'I thought you found me attractive,' she said.
'I've seen it in your eyes.'

'I do, Georgina.'

'As I do you.'

'That doesn't alter matters. I can't take
advantage of a friend's wife. Only a bounder
would do that.'

Georgina hung her head. 'It wasn't easy for
me to come here. I knew I risked making a fool
of myself.'

He softened towards her. 'You haven't done
that.'

'No?'

'You've simply made a mistake, that's all.'

'I see.'

'Now you'd better leave.'

Georgina shivered. 'It's cold in here. Our
room is far warmer.'

'Then you'd better get back there.'

'I don't want you to think I make a habit
of this kind of thing. The truth is, I've only
ever been with one man in my life, and that's
Willie.'

Andrew wasn't sure whether to believe that or
not. 'Why me then?'

'Because you fascinate me. I keep wondering
what it would be like being made love to by
you. I wonder all the time and have done ever
since meeting you.'


195


Andrew swallowed hard. Dear God, he'd never
realised. Forbidden fruit., he reminded himself.
Beyond the Pale. 'I'm flattered, Georgina,
honestly I am. If things had been different
I wouldn't hesitate. If you were even someone
else's wife, not a friend's. But I just couldn't.'

'I understand.'

Damn it, he thought. He was becoming
aroused. If only she didn't smell so damned
gorgeous. She moved slightly so that one of
her breasts was silhouetted against the curtained
window.

He swore again when she began to cry
softly.

'You mustn't do that. You musn't,' he
pleaded.

'I'm sorry.'

And then Georgina played her trump card.
The one she'd hoped she wouldn't have to play.
But having gone this far, why not?

Standing, she slowly undid the belt of her
negligee, and held the garment open. 'I want
you to see what you're missing before I go.'

It was too much. What a sight. What a
glorious sight. His resistance crumbled.

Andrew banished Willie from his mind as,
with a groan, he reached for her.


*


Georgina lay staring at the ceiling, not having
slept a wink. Alongside her Willie continued to
snore.

She couldn't believe what it had been like.


196

The sensations she'd felt, the things Andrew had
done to her. Again and again he'd brought her
to fruition until she'd thought she must surely
die from the sheer pleasure of it all.

She ran her hands over her breasts, they still
throbbing, over her stomach and along her
thighs. Thighs Andrew had so recently been
between.

What an experience. One simply out of this
world. And to think she'd been missing that all
these years. Compared to Andrew, Willie was
. . . well, pathetic. There was no other word for
it. Pathetic.

That wasn't fair, she chided herself. She was
being cruel. But it was true nonetheless.

Andrew. She wanted to shout his name aloud.
A few short hours and she'd come to worship
the man.

She shivered in recollection of how it had been
between them.


*


Andrew was pacing his bedroom as he'd been
doing since shortly after Georgina had left. How
could he have been so stupid. So bloody weak
willed! What he'd done was appalling.

One thing was certain, it must never happen
again. If Willie ever found out it would destroy
the poor bugger, and that was something he
never wanted to have on his conscience.

He'd been all right until she'd opened her
negligee. Then he'd been lost. Quite overcome
at the sight of that voluptuousness.


197


Andrew stopped and ran fingers through his
hair. Go home straight away? That's what he
wanted to do. But what would he say to Willie,
what possible excuse could he make? None he
could think of.

Willie would be upset to say the least, wishing
to know why he was going. What was wrong.
Had he been insulted. What?

No, he had to stay and brazen it out. That
was all he could do. And pray Georgina didn't
pay him any more visits.

He glanced at the door which he'd already
checked earlier. It didn't have a lock, worst luck.
He'd have felt a great deal safer if it had.

Andrew threw himself into a chair. What he
wouldn't have given for a glass of whisky right
then. Several glasses. And now he was going
to have to get dressed and go downstairs. How
long before he had to face Willie? Not long he
shouldn't think.

He must keep the guilt out of his face.
He must.

Andrew swore viciously, bitterly regretting
what he'd done. At least part of him did.

If only she'd been someone else's bloody
wife!


*


He met Georgina first, bumping into her in the
corridor. She was positively glowing.

'Hello, Andrew,' she beamed.

'Hello, Georgina.'

'There's some late buffet luncheon set out to


198

tide us over to dinner. I've already had a plateful
myself.'

'How's Willie?'

She chuckled. 'Like a bear with a sore head,
which is precisely what he has. An extremely
sore head according to him.'

'Is he up and about?'

'Well, he is up, but I'm not sure whether he's
about yet.' She dropped her voice. 'Andrew . . . '

'No,' he interjected quickly. 'It never happened,
understand? It just never happened.'

'Oh, but it did,' she replied, eyes sparking.

He stared at her in dismay. 'Well, it won't
ever again. I assure you.'

She touched him lightly on the arm. 'I thought
you enjoyed it.'

'I did. But that's irrelevant.'

Now that she'd tasted the delights he had to
offer she wasn't about to give them up. Oh no.
Somehow, some way, Andrew would be hers.
She'd decided that while dressing.

'I'd better get along,' Andrew said.

'Goodbye for now . . . lover.'

Andrew blanched, and moved on his way.


*


'You look very sombre.'

Andew turned to find Rose standing beside
him. 'Do I?'

'Sombre to the point of being grim. Have you
also got a hangover?'

Andrew shook his head. 'I feel right as rain.'

'Poor Father. He swears he'll never mix wine


199


and whisky ever again.'

'I haven't seen him yet. Is he that bad?'
'Terrible. His eyes are all sunken and he

cut himself shaving. He's feeling very sorry for

himself.'


'He'll survive.' Andrew laughed. 'I should
know. I've suffered a few hangovers in my
time.'

'Were you very wild when younger?'
fc That surprised him. 'Why do you ask?'

'You have that air about you. I think you
must have been very wild.'

'A bit,' he acknowledged.

'I think young men should be. It shows spirit.
And every worth-while man should have that.'

'I see. I take it you're an expert on these
matters,' he teased.

'Perhaps I am.'

He didn't want to pursue this any further.
'I've been standing here looking out this window
contemplating, strange as it may seem, having a
drink. Would you care to join me?'

'There's nothing I'd like better, Andrew.'

'Then let's find one.'


i

12


200


It was his first day back at work after the new
year which didn't please Pat Flynn one little bit.
He'd much rather have been home in front of
a nice cosy fire than out here in the snow. He
glanced up at a leaden grey sky from which
millions of swirling snowflakes were falling. No
signs of a let-up there he thought.

He reined in Jasper when he spotted one of
their cards in a window. Another sale, one of
many in an exceptionally busy morning. He'd
have to return to the depot shortly and reload.
At least that meant he'd get a cup of tea.

He was about to jump down from the cart
when a couple appeared round a corner heading
in his direction. It was Geraldine and Dougal,
the pair arm in arm.

Dougal said something which caused Geraldine
to laugh and pull herself even more tightly to
him. She looked happy as Larry.

Pat turned his face away, not wanting them to
see his expression. Jesus, but he was jealous.

'Why, hello, Mr Flynn,' Geraldine said as they
came alongside.

'Hello, Mrs Buchanan. And you, Mr Buchanan.'

'Not the best of days for your job,' Dougal
commented with a smile.

Pat shrugged. 'That's how it goes.'

Then they'd gone past, continuing on their
way.


201


Pat glared after them. How long to go before
Dougal went back to sea?
He wished to hell he knew.


*


'You what!' Jack Riach exclaimed. It was a
Friday night and he and Andrew were in
the local.

'You heard me.'


Jack sat back in his chair. 'I'm disappointed
in you., Andrew.'


'I'm disappointed in myself. I feel rotten
about it.'

'I should think so.'

Andrew had a swallow of whisky. 'You
should have seen her though,, Jack. She's got
a magnificent body.'


'Which you simply couldn't resist Jack
replied sarcastically.


'She was standing there naked, flaunting
herself in front of me. I'm not made of stone.
Jack. I'm only flesh and blood after all.'
'She's that good looking?'
'Believe me, she is.'


'And she just turned up in your bedroom out
of the blue?'

'Out of the blue, Jack, I swear.'
'Had you been leading her on in any way?
You know, flirting and that sort of thing?'

'No I hadn't. I did dance with her at the party
of course, well that was obligatory. She was my
hostess after all. Manners dictated that I did.
Not that it was a chore, quite the contrary.'


202


'How extraordinary,' Jack commented, feeling
for his pint.

'I kept as much out of Willie's way for the
rest of my stay there as I could. Out of his way
and Georgina's. I ended up spending quite a lot
of time with Rose.' Andrew hesitated, then said,
'You were right about Rose.'

'You didn't . . . not Rose as well?'

'Of course not!'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Jack replied drily.

'She is very pleasant to be with. In fact she
rather reminds me of ... ' He broke off.

'Who, Andrew?'

'Nobody.'

Jack smiled. 'I can hear it in your voice, old
boy. It's Alice, am I right?'

'Only a little. The occasional gesture, the odd
inflection. What she does do is ride like Alice,
there were times when, if I hadn't known better,
I would have sworn I was back in Ireland and
it was Alice I was watching.'

'Interesting,' Jack mused. 'Speaking of Ireland,
how does all this affect your plans?'

'I did consider cancelling, but Willie would
be terribly put out if I did.'

'So you'll still go.'

'Yes.'

'And what if Mrs Seaton takes it upon herself
to visit you again?'

'She won't, I'm convinced of that. Hotels
are too public, Jack. Besides, hotel bedrooms
have locks on their doors. So I'll be quite
safe.'

Jack chuckled. 'It's funny hearing you talk


203


about being safe from a woman. Usually it's
the other way round, or it used to be in the
past anyway. They had to worry about being
safe from you.'

'Aye, true Andrew said with a smile. 'But
that was a long while ago. Before Alice.'

'Before Alice,' Jack repeated, and nodded
his understanding. He couldn't imagine what
it would be like to lose Hettie. The end of
the world as far as he'd be concerned. Hettie
had become everything to him. Hettie and wee
Tommy.


Andrew had a swallow of whisky, emptying
his glass. Following that with a pull from his
pint. 'Anyway, I really want to go to Ireland
now. I was in two minds for quite some time,
not sure at all how I'll react. And I'm still not
sure. But I've come to the conclusion that it'll
be a good thing for me to go back. No matter
what happens.'


*


'Well, it couldn't be going better,' Scan Flynn
declared to the rest of the Samurai. They were
gathered together in the condemned tenement.

He indicated the pile of money in front of
him. 'Look at that, eh?'

'It's like taking sweeties from a baby,' Sammy
Renton chuckled. 'A few words from you, Sean,
a bit of a threat like, and they're falling over
themselves to give us cash.'

Sean nodded, that was true enough. After
Rizzio it had just got easier and easier as


204


word got round. The shopkeepers not already
on their list were almost reaching for their tills
the moment he and some of the others walked
through the door.

'So what are we going to do with it?' Bobby
O'Toole queried, gesturing at the money.

'A divvy?' Dan Smith suggested hopefully.
'Then we could all go straight down the boozer
and have a whale of a time.'

'That's a possibility,' Sean acknowledged.

'Do you have something in mind?' Jim
Gallagher asked, guessing that he did.

'I have.' Sean paused for effect. He was getting
the hang of this leader thing, he thought. 'I
propose we use it to rent ourselves a proper
place which we can fill with decent furniture.'

'A proper place?' Jim frowned.

'Aye, look about you. This house stinks and
it's got rats in it. I hate rats.'

'We could get a cat,' Bill O'Connell joked.

'Bugger a cat,' Sean snapped in reply. 'A
decent house with decent furniture. Now what
do you say?'

'I still fancy a divvy,' Dan Smith grumbled.

'Shall we take a vote on it then?'

Dan Smith was the only one to vote against
the house and furniture idea.


*


lan was shown into a room where Moira and
her mother were sitting. It was a Sunday
afternoon. His eyes immediately sought out
Moira's.


205



'Why, lan, how nice of you to call,' Delphine
McLaren declared.

'I hope I'm not intruding.'

'Not at all. We were just about to take coffee.
Will you join us?'

'That would be lovely.'

'If you'd ring that bell pull for us then.'

lan crossed to the indicated bell pull and
tugged it. He then returned to the ladies and sat close to Moira. He'd have liked to sit
beside her on the sofa but thought that a bit
forward.

She'd expected this to happen, Delphine
thought with satisfaction. She hadn't failed to
notice how well lan and Moira had got on
during Hogmanay. Well, it certainly suited her
purposes, the Seatons were an excellent family
to marry into, should it come to that. Which
she fervently hoped it would.
The three of them began making small talk.


*


'Is something wrong or worrying you, darling?'
Willie inquired.

Georgina, at her vanity table brushing out her
hair, glanced at him in the mirror. 'No, why do
you ask?'

He shrugged. 'You haven't been quite yourself
of late. In fact since the party.'

'I can't say I've noticed.'

'Distant somehow, detached.'

She carefully laid her brush on the table and
turned to face him. Oh dear, she thought. Had


206

she been distant and detached? She certainly
hadn't meant to be.

'It's probably the time of year,' she smiled.
'I've never enjoyed winter as you well know.'

He gave an inward sigh of relief. It would
appear he hadn't offended her in any way, which
he'd thought might be the case. 'I wondered if
it was me getting drunk on Hogmanay? I did
apologise as you will remember.'

'No, silly. I wasn't put out by that. Most of the
male guests were one over the eight when they
left anyway, why should you be any different?
Hogmanay is Hogmanay after all.'

She must be more careful in future she told
herself. Truth was since new year's morning
she hadn't been able to get Andrew out of
her mind, awake and asleep. Andrew, and
their lovemaking. How she desperately craved
for another bout of that. Craved so much there
were times it made her teeth ache.

As for Willie, she hadn't exactly gone off him.
No, that would be taking it too far. He was still
the kind, generous man he'd always been, and
still a most unsatisfactory lover. Perhaps she had
been somewhat detached as Willie put it. Yes,
she must be more careful.

'Anyway, Ireland is coming up shortly,' Willie
went on. 'I'm sure a break away from here
will do you the world of good. Buck you up,
what?'

Tm sure,' she replied, returning to her
brushing.

She couldn't have been more sure about
anything. For Ireland meant Andrew.


207


She didn't know how. But she'd engineer
another bout of lovemaking between the pair
of them.

She trembled at the thought.


*


'Come in, Mr Flynn,' Geraldine Buchanan
said.

Mr Flynn, that meant Dougal was still there.
Pat swore inwardly.

'You know where the bin is. I'll just go and
fetch some money.'

Pat upended the coal bag into the bin. How
much longer before that sod Dougal went back
to sea? How much bloody longer!

Geraldine reappeared. 'And how have you
been, Mr Flynn?'

'Fine, thank you.'

'All this snow gets you down, don't you
think?'

He nodded, accepting a ten-shilling note from
her. He delved in his bag for change.

'Thank you,' she said, accepting it.

'Goodbye for now then.'

She let him get to the door. 'Oh, before
you go.'

He hesitated. 'Yes?'

Her face broke into a huge smile. 'Would you
care for a bottle of beer, Pat?'

'Bottle of ... 'He broke off, had the cow
been teasing him? 'Where's Dougal?'

'Gone away again. Two days ago. And it'll
be a long voyage. He doesn't know where but


208

he does know it'll be a long one.'

'You

Geraldine tinkled a laugh. 'I couldn't resist it,
Pat. I simply couldn't. Your face when I offered
you the beer was a picture.'

'This Friday?' he croaked.

Til be waiting.'

She bent to open a cupboard, provocatively
sticking her bottom in the air.

If Pat hadn't been so filthy he'd have had her
there and then.


*


'Hey, you, come here!'

The pimply-faced lad turned to face Scan and
Mo Binchy. 'Aye, what is it?'

'You've been nicking off Harris's the newsagent's.
Haven't you?'

'Fuck off.'

He made to move away but Scan grabbed him
and spun him round. 'I'm talking to you, son.
Where's your manners?'

'Who the hell are you?'

'We're the Samurai and we give Mr Harris
protection. Do you understand?'

For a moment fear flickered in the youth's
eyes. He'd heard of the Samurai. 'Protection?'

Sean produced his razor. 'That's right.'

Pimple face stared at the razor, then up again
at Sean. His mouth had gone dry. 'I didn't know
that,' he replied, still trying to give an outward
show of bravado.

'Well, now you do. I'm giving you a warning.


209



If it happens again we'll come after you, and
when we find you . . . ' Scan flicked his razor
several times. 'Mince.'

There was no reply to that.

'Have I made myself clear?'

The youth, his assumed bravado ebbing away,
nodded. He knew what the result of a razoring
was like.

'Now hop it. Bugger off.'
vThe youth didn't exactly leave at a run, but
it wasn't far off it.


*


Pat swaggered into the kitchen. 'Well, that's me
off to my committee meeting,' he announced.

'You look very smart, Pa,' Alison said.

He beamed at her. 'Why, thank you, lass.'

'You do indeed,' Kathleen declared. Tm right
proud to see you like that.'


If only you knew, he thought. If only you
knew.


*


Bridie brushed snow off a fallen tree, making
a space for herself, and sat. How stupid this
was, how incredibly bloody stupid. She banged
her gloved hands together trying to restore some
warmth to them. She was frozen through.

A glance at the sky told her it wouldn't be
long before it got dark. What then? She daren't
even think of that.

She mustn't panic she told herself. That would


210



i

be fatal. Once she'd caught her breath she must
trudge on.

'Hello.'

Bridie started and swivelled round to find
lan Seaton staring at her, his expression one
of puzzlement. She gasped with relief. 'Thank
God!'

'What are you doing out here all by yourself?'

She rose from the tree. 'It's my day off and
I went for a walk. Only somehow I got lost.'

'I see.'

'I've absolutely no idea where I am.'

He smiled. 'City girls shouldn't go wandering
around the countryside alone. Especially not in
weather like this. What if I hadn't happened
along?'

She hung her head. 'I know. I've just been
telling myself how stupid I've been.'

'How long have you been out here?'

She shook her head. 'Ages. And a lot of that
time has been spent trying to find my way back
again.' Bridie suddenly sobbed. 'I've been so
scared.'

lan went to her and took her into his
arms. 'There there. It's all right now. You're
safe.'

'You must think me a fool.'

'Not a fool exactly. Silly perhaps, but not a
fool. As I said, city girls shouldn't go wandering
around the countryside alone. Especially . . . '

'Not in weather like this,' she finished for
him.

They both laughed, which brightened her
considerably.


211



'Let's make a move then he said. 'Are you
up to it?'


Til have to be. I'm certainly not staying
here.'


She fell into step beside him. 'Where have
you been?' she asked.

'There's a stretch of fence been blown down
and I was sent out to see precisely what the
damage was.'

.'Lucky for me you were.' Bridie glanced about
her. 'These trees are spooky.' They were passing
through a large wood.

'Only if you're not used to this sort of thing.
I find them rather comforting myself.'

'Comforting?' She found that hard to believe.

He nodded. 'Yes. But don't forget I was
brought up on the estate and know it in all
its moods and seasons.'

'It's very large, isn't it? The estate I mean.'

'Very.'


Somewhere an owl hooted, a melancholy
sound.

'The trouble started when I left the path I
was on,' Bridie explained. 'I wanted to explore.
Except I explored too far and couldn't find the
path, or any other path, again.'

'Next time I suggest you don't leave the path,
or go beyond sight of the house.'

'Don't worry, I won't. I'll be extremely careful
from now on.' Bridie shivered. Tve probably
caught my death of cold.'

'Have a bath when you get back.'

'I can't. We're only allowed one a week and
I'm not due mine till next Tuesday.'


212



lan had forgotten about those particular staff
arrangements. 'Tell you what, I'll have a word
with Mrs Coltart. I'm sure she'll make an
exception in this case.'

'That's very kind of you.'

'It's the least I can do,' he smiled.

What a lovely smile, she thought, really
noticing it for the first time. 'I shall always
think of you as my knight in shining armour,'
she declared.

That amused him. 'Why so?'

'Well, I was a damsel in dire distress and
you came to my rescue. My knight in shining
armour.'

He laughed, liking the idea.

'Perhaps I shouldn't have said that, me being
a maid and you the son of the house. I didn't
mean to be impertinent.'

'I know that, Bridie.'

'Thank you.'

He'd forgotten she read a lot, no doubt where
her fanciful ideas came from.

They emerged from the wood into a field
bounded on three sides by high hedges. 'The
house is about half a mile from here. It shouldn't
take us too long.'

Bridie was glad about that, she was exhausted.

'Have you ever read the story of Robin Hood?'
he asked.

'Oh yes. It was terrific, though sad at the end
when he died.'

'Then you know of Maid Marian.'

'Of course.'

He was teasing her now. 'That's how I shall


213


think of you in future. If I'm the knight in
shining armour you shall be Maid Bridie. As
you said, you are a maid after all.'

'But not that sort.'

'No?'

If she hadn't been so cold she'd have blushed
on realising to what he was referring. 'Well, yes
I am.'

'So Maid Bridie you shall be.'

She wasn't going to let him get entirely away
with that. 'And you will be Sir lan of Seaton.'

'Done.'

Sir lan of Seaton, that further amused him.


*


Kathleen was on her way home from 'the
steamie' as the communal wash house was
known. She was struggling under the weight
of the weekly laundry.

It never seemed to let up, she thought.
From morning to night it was all go. Cooking,
cleaning, ironing, on and on it went in a never
ending circle.

Sometimes she wished . . . But what was the
point in wishing for something that would never
happen? Her lot was housewife and mother with
the drudgery that accompanied those roles.
Drudgery that made you old before your time.
Lined your face, ruined your figure, reddened
and chapped your hands.

She sighed. A nice cup of tea when she got in.
And a biscuit she'd put by. Then it was down to
ironing before Alison arrived home from school.


214

At least it wasn't all bad, she reflected. Bridie
was working for toffs and her man was on a very
important committee.

Aye, it wasn't all bad.


*


Hettie had watched Jack get more and more
fidgety with every passing day. From past
experience she knew what that was leading to.

'Monday morning,' Jack suddenly said. 'We'll
make a start then.'

'All right.'

He shook his head. Tm still not certain I can
manage a novel though.'

'Well, you won't know until you try, will
you?'

'That's true enough,' he grudgingly admitted,
and gnawed a thumbnail.

'There's something I've been meaning to
speak to you about, Jack. Do you think you
could buy me a typewriter?'

'A typewriter,' he mused. 'I can do that
without any bother. But don't you have to
go on some kind of course to learn how to
use one?'

'That's the proper way of doing it, but I can
hardly go on a course in Dalneil.'

They both laughed, their village being a
small one.

'So I thought I'd try and teach myself. It can't
be that difficult. I shall simply persevere until
I've mastered it.'

And master it she would, he thought. That


215


was his Hettie for you.	-.

'It would make it all so much easier, Jack. And more professional too.'	
He nodded. 'A typewriter you shall have.'	
Too late for this book, Hettie reflected. But if if
Jack did manage a full manuscript there might
be others.

'Monday morning,' he repeated, and went
back to gnawing his thumbnail.


*


Bridie snuffled into one of several hankies she'd
had to borrow, feeling wretched beyond belief.

The bedroom door swung open, and moments
later Jeannie Swanson breezed in carrying a tray.
'Your luncheon, madam,' Jeannie announced in
an affected posh voice.

Bridie struggled to sit up in bed where she'd
been sent by Mrs Coltart when the heavy cold
had manifested itself. Mrs Coltart had said she
was to stay there until better.

'What is it?'

'Chicken broth and freshly baked bread. Mrs
Kilbride told me she doesn't want to see
anything left when the tray is returned.' Jeannie
set the tray in front of Bridie. 'And a book from
Master lan.'

Bridie's eyes lit up. Sure enough, there was
also a book on the tray.

'How kind of him,' she breathed.

'Gave it to me personally. Said it should help
keep boredom at bay.'

Bridie picked up the book and glanced at the


216


title, delighted it wasn't one she'd already read. 'Fame,' she murmured. 'By Micheline Keating.'
A quick glance at the back informed her it was
the story of a great actress who rose from the
gutter, and of her daughter who eclipsed her
triumphs. 'I say, it couldn't be better. Sounds
like a cracking tale.' She frowned. 'I wonder
where Master lan got it from?' Not leather
bound, it clearly wasn't part of the library
downstairs.

'He explained that. Said his sister Rose bought
it last time she was in Edinburgh. He also
mentioned that Miss Rose reads a bit herself and
will be happy to lend you more books in future.'

'How wonderful. When you next see the pair
of them will you thank them for me?'

Til do that,' Jeannie replied. 'Now you get
on with that soup before it gets cold.'
Bridie laid the book to one side and hurriedly
attacked her meal. She couldn't wait to get
started on Fame.

Jeannie laughed as she left the bedroom. She'd
never seen Bridie so excited. The book would do
her the world of good.


*


Willie lit a cigarette and sucked the smoke deep
into his lungs, thinking how enjoyable a cigarette
was directly after a meal.

'You've been seeing Moira McLaren, I
understand.' Georgina smiled at lan.

He glanced over at his stepmother. 'That's
right.'


217


'Is it serious?'

Rose sniggered, which earned her a disapproving
look from Georgina.

lan shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. 'I've
no idea. It's early days yet.'

'But you do like her?'

'I'd hardly be seeing Moira if I didn't,' he
replied sarcastically.

'Pretty lass,' Willie commented.

v'Good figure,' Rose added, and sniggered
again.

'Rose!' Georgina admonished.

lan glared at his sister. Trust Georgina to
bring up the subject of Moira when Rose was
present.

'When are you seeing her again?' Georgina
queried.

lan sighed. 'With all due respect, isn't that
my business?'

'I'm only showing an interest.'

Being nosy more like, lan thought.

'Have you kissed her yet?'

'That's enough, Rose,' Willie said quietly.

'Well, I too was only showing an interest, Pa.'
She rounded again on lan. 'So?'

'That's for me to know and you to wonder
about.'

And having said that lan got up and left the
room.

Bloody prying women, he thought angrily.


218


13


Andrew stood on deck staring out over the
choppy sea. There it was, just discernible, the
coast of Ireland.

He closed his eyes. Remembering . . . remembering
. . .


*


'I don't believe it,' Billy Roberts exclaimed
softly. 'I just don't believe it.' He and Andrew
were sitting by themselves in the mess having
a drink, and Billy had just glanced at the front
page of that evening's newspaper.

'Don't believe what, old boy?' Andrew smiled.

'Wait a moment, let me read this through.'

Andrew sipped his whisky, wondering what
had perturbed his friend.

Billy looked at Andrew, his expression grim.
'It's the Fortescues,' he said, voice tight.

'What about them?'

'They're dead!'

It was a joke, Andrew thought. Billy was
pulling his leg. 'Oh yes? All three I suppose.'

'All three,' Billy nodded. 'Here, read for
yourself.' And with that he passed the newspaper
to Andrew.

The headline hit Andrew like a hammer blow.
Greystones, their home, had been gutted by fire.
He went white as he read through the report.


219



'I am sorry Billy murmured when Andrew
finally stared up from the paper.

Andrew was in shock, his mind reeling. This
couldn't be true. It had to be a lie. It had to
be. Alice, his Alice dead!

'Let me get you a refill,' Billy said, and picking
up Andrew's glass he hurried to the bar.

Andrew started re-reading the article. The
tragedy had occurred the previous night according
toit, the entire family and some servants
perishing in the blaze. Other servants had
escaped to raise the alarm, to no avail. Arson
was suspected.

Alice! Dear sweet Alice whom he loved and
was engaged to. Alice dead.

Billy was still at the bar as Andrew rose and
stumbled from the mess. All he wanted was to
be alone.

Alice dead.	1

It was impossible. Impossible.

He managed to hold back the tears until his
room door was shut and locked behind him.


*


'Andrew?'

Andrew blinked, then turned to find Willie
standing a few feet away. 'Oh, hello.'

Willie stared at him in concern. 'I .say, are
you all right?'

Andrew pulled out a hanky and pretended to
blow his nose, but was actually wiping tears from
his eyes. 'Perfectly.'

'You do look rather rough, old boy. Here,


220


have a swig from this.'

Willie produced a hip flask which he handed

to Andrew.

'Thank you, I don't mind if I do. It's damned
chilly out here. Doesn't take long to get through
to the bones.'

Andrew unscrewed the flask's top and took a
deep swallow. He sighed. 'That's better.'

'I think I'll join you.'

Willie also had a swallow and then stowed the
flask away again, into the depths of the heavy
Crombie coat he was wearing.

'How's Georgina?' Georgina had succumbed
to seasickness shortly after they'd got underway
and had remained in her cabin ever since.

'No change there I'm afraid. She's convinced
she's going to die.'

'Still that ghastly colour you mentioned?'

Willie nodded.

'And Rose?'

'Continuing to play nursemaid. Thank God
she was with us. I doubt I'd have managed
by myself. The female side of things, you
understand.'

Andrew took a deep breath. 'Tell Georgina
she won't have to suffer for much longer. I've
just sighted Ireland. It shouldn't be too long
before we dock.'

He pointed into the distance. 'There she is.
The Emerald Isle.'

Willie guessed then why Andrew was looking
so awful. Memories. Not pleasant ones either.

Willie snapped open his cigarette case and
proceeded to light up. The smoke he exhaled


221



was immediately snatched away by the wind.

'It'll be strange going back, don't you think?'
Willie said, making conversation.

'Very.'

'I wonder if it's changed all that much?'

'I shouldn't imagine so.'

'I hope it hasn't. It would be nice if it's just
as it was.'

Andrew wished Willie would stop prattling on
and go away. He wanted to be alone with his
thoughts.

'Does it bother you, me speaking like this?'

'Not in the least,' Andrew lied.

'Good. That's a healthy sign.'

They stood in silence for a few minutes
while Willie continued to smoke. When Willie
had finished his cigarette he threw the butt
overboard.

'I'd better get below again and give Georgina
the good news.'

Til stay on up here.'

'We'll meet up at disembarkation then.'

'Right.'

When Willie had gone Andrew returned to
watching as the coast of Ireland loomed closer
and closer.


*


The first thing Andrew did on reaching his
hotel bedroom was unpack the two bottles of
Drummond he'd brought with him and pour
himself a stiff one.

Glass in hand he crossed to the window and


222

.'

gazed out over St Stephen's Green. A park he
and Alice had strolled in on several occasions.
He thought of the following morning and
what he intended doing. It brought a lump to
his throat.


*


Andrew rose as Willie and Rose approached the
table he'd secured for them. 'No Georgina?'

' 'Fraid not,' Willie replied. 'She went straight
to bed and intends remaining there until
tomorrow.'

Willie assisted Rose to a seat and then sat
himself.

A wine waiter came over and they placed
their order. Then they fell to studying their
menus.

'I'm so excited,' Rose declared, finally laying
her menu aside. 'It's the first time I've ever been
abroad.'

'It'll widen your horizons.' Willie smiled at
her.

She lowered her voice. 'Their accents are
very odd. I can hardly understand what they're
saying.'

Andrew laughed. 'You'll soon get used to it.
I know I did.'

Willie glanced about him. He'd dined here
many times in the past, always with fellow
officers. It was Dublin's finest hotel with an
excellent reputation. It had never crossed his
mind for them to stay anywhere else.

Rose, still with a lowered voice, said, 'Doesn't


223


it all smell so different to home. So very

foreign.'

Andrew chuckled. 'That's because it is.'
She pouted. 'No need to be sarcastic, Andrew

Drummond.'

'Who me?' he replied, pretending mock

innocence. 'As if I'd do such a thing. Particularly

to a beautiful young lady like yourself.'

Rose blushed. 'Thank you. If you're being

serious that is.'

'Never more so, Rose, I assure you.'

At which point their conversation was

interrupted by the arrival of a waiter to take

their food orders.


*


'Can we go sightseeing after dinner?' Rose asked
halfway through the main course.

Willie picked up a crisp white linen napkin
and wiped his lips. Tm afraid not, darling. I
can hardly leave Georgina.'

She'd known that's what he'd say. Her face
appeared to fill with disappointment. 'Sorry, I
should have thought. Yes, of course you must.
And I can't go out by myself.'

Andrew smiled, realising what her game was.
'How would it be if I took you?' he suggested.

The disappointment instantly vanished. She'd
achieved what she'd been after. 'Would you,
Andrew!'

'My pleasure to do so.'

'None of those dives and haunts you used to
favour, Andrew,' Willie said with a frown.


224

'Dives and haunts,' Rose repeated, eyes wide.
That sounded wonderful.

'Don't worry, Willie. I wouldn't dream of it.
She's your daughter after all.'

'Precisely.'

Andrew thought of a little club he'd frequented
in Baggot Street. Friendly, discreet and, in his
opinion, perfect for Rose. He only hoped it was
still there.


*


'Now don't drink too much of that champagne.
Your father would be furious if I took you back
tipsy.'

'I won't,' Rose promised.

Andrew turned his attention to the singer, an
Irish woman with flowing black hair and piercing
blue eyes, thinking she was very good. Not to
mention attractive.

'Any idea what she's singing about?' Rose

asked.

Andrew shook his head. 'I don't speak a word
of the language. Though from the sound of it,
it might be a love song of some sort.'

A love song, Rose thought. How romantic.
'You said to Pa you wouldn't be accompanying
us tomorrow morning. Would it be rude to ask
what you're doing instead?'

He took his time in replying. Tm going to
visit an old friend. Someone very special.'

'That sounds mysterious. Is it a woman?'

He nodded.

Jealousy filled Rose. 'I see.'


225


Oh no you don't, he thought. You don't 1
at all.	'

'A woman you obviously knew from before,
I take it?'	I

'That's right, Rose.'

'And haven't seen since?'	_

'You are inquisitive, aren't you?'	

'I'm sorry,' she apologised. 'I didn't mean to  be . . . '	I

*Nosy?' he interjected.

She dropped her gaze. 'You're telling me to
shut up.'

'Not at all. But shall we change the subject.'

'If you wish.'

'I most definitely wish.'

The singer finished her song and the audience
broke into rapturous applause.


*


'Thank you for a fabulous evening,' Rose said
to Andrew as they waited for the hotel lift to
descend.

'You're welcome.'

She looked into his eyes and wondered at what
she saw there. Something she couldn't fathom.
Something that sent a shiver through her.

Once upstairs he walked her to her room.
'Well, goodnight, Rose.'

'Goodnight, Andrew. I hope you enjoy
tomorrow.'

Enjoy? It would be far from enjoyable. He
made to turn away.

'Don't I get a kiss?' Her heart fluttered at


226

being so forward. She could hardly believe she'd
just said that.

He turned back to her in surprise. 'Rose, I . . . '

He had to break off when her lips landed
squarely on his. Instinctively his arms started to
go round her, then realising what he was doing
he pulled them away again.

'Thank you,' she whispered when the kiss
was over.

When he returned to his room he locked the
door securely behind him.


*


The grave was well tended, which pleased him.
As was her parents' one alongside. He'd wanted
to bring some flowers but there had been none
to be had anywhere. It was simply the wrong
time of year.

'Hello, Alice,' he said softly. 'I've come to
visit you. It's been a long time.'

And then he couldn't speak any more, his
throat too choked for words.

He began remembering . . .


*


It was a combined funeral for Sir Henry, Lady
Fortescue and Alice and the church was packed.
Andrew was present with Billy Roberts there for
support.

The hymn finished and they all sat. 'Now we
will pray,' the minister announced.

Andrew didn't hear a word of the prayer. All


227


he could think of was Alice and how much he
desperately missed her. He still couldn't really
take on board that he'd never see her again,
that she was gone.

At the end of the prayer he looked up and
the first person he saw was Seamus McGinty.

Was that the hint of a smile on McGinty's
face? Surely not. It couldn't be. And yet . . . and
yet . . .

Then Andrew recalled the conversation with
Sir Henry when he had mentioned the two
Protestant houses in West Cork being torched
by Fenians. And the row Sir Henry had had with
McGinty and the fact McGinty had threatened
him, a threat Sir Henry had dismissed.

Suddenly, and with absolute certainty, Andrew
knew it was McGinty who'd torched Greystones.
Or if he hadn't done so personally had been
behind it.

Arson had been suspected but so far the police
hadn't made an arrest. Their investigations
hadn't come up with anything.

But Andrew knew who the culprit was.

Sitting there in church, consumed by grief and
hatred, Andrew swore an oath to himself.

McGinty, the bastard, would pay.

An eye for an eye.

So it would be.


*


Willie had knocked on Andrew's door and, on
not receiving a reply, gone looking in the hotel
bar where he now found him. He hesitated on


228

seeing Andrew's face.

'Can I join you or would you prefer being left
alone?'

Andrew pointed to a chair. 'Sit down.'

Willie did and beckoned a waiter over. 'Refill?'

'Please. Just ask for scotch, they don't stock
Drummond.'

Andrew took a deep breath. 'So how was the
day out?'

'Grand. I showed them Dublin Castle where
we used to be billeted, which they thought quite
impressive. And a few other places. We had the
most splendid lunch in a fish restaurant we came
across. The prawns were magnificent, every bit
as good as I remembered them.'

Willie gave their order, then turned again to
Andrew. 'How about you?'

'I went to Alice's grave.'

'Oh.' That explained Andrew's expression
when he'd come into the bar. 'How was it?'

'Pretty awful to tell the truth.'

'That's understandable.'

Andrew locked his fingers together and twisted
them. 'I was pleased I went though. Painful as
it was.'

'Will you go again?'

'Oh yes. At least once before we leave. I'll
also go to Greystones at some point.'

Willie nodded. 'Did visiting the grave . . . help
in any way?'

Andrew considered that. 'It's too soon to say
really. But I think so.' He paused, then added,
'Yes, I do believe it did.'

'Good.'


229


*


Andrew stared grimly at the burnt-out shell
of what had been the McGinty farmhouse.
It hadn't been rebuilt and he wondered if
Greystones had.


230

'I never went back after the funeral,, you know.
Couldn't bear to. Several times I almost did, but
changed my mind at the last moment. If it was
painful today God knows what it would have
been like then.'

Willie was thinking of his dead wife Mary.
He still went to her grave at least once a
month, staying for ten or fifteen minutes on
each occasion. It had become a ritual with
hirn over the years. He never asked Georgina
to accompany him, the visits were strictly private
affairs.

Their drinks arrived and Willie signed for
them.	
'I intend getting drunk as a lord tonight,' 
Andrew declared.

'I see.'

'The other thing is I shall be having dinner
in my room. It's all right talking to you here
like this but I won't really be fit company for
the ladies.'

'I shall make your apologies and say you're
not feeling all that well.'

'Thank you, Willie.'

When Andrew went to pick up his glass he
noted his hand was shaking.

Willie noted it too but didn't comment.


So long ago and yet it was as though it was
only yesterday. An eye for an eye he'd sworn.
And so it had been. McGinty, the bastard, had
paid in full for Alice and her parents.

Andrew slowly closed his eyes, remembering . . .


*


He'd bided his time, now the score would be
settled. He was standing in front of the McGinty
farmhouse in the early hours of the morning,
three full jerrycans of petrol at his feet.

The house was dark, the McGintys, he
presumed, fast asleep. It was an overcast night
with no stars or moon showing. Perfect for his

purpose.

He thought again of Alice, dead and lost to
him, all because of the Fenian bastard inside.

He picked up two of the jerrycans and walked
softly towards the house. Stopping at the door he
opened both cans. Then, using a knee to assist,
he began pouring petrol through the letter box.

When the two cans were empty he took them
back to the third with which he returned to the
door and letter box. When that can was empty
he took a deep breath, struck a match, dropped
it through the letter box, picked up the can and
ran like mad.

There was an enormous whoofl behind him
which brought a smile of grim satisfaction to
his face. He placed the can beside the others
and turned to watch.

It didn't take long. Seconds later he could
see flames licking behind the front downstairs


231



windows and then wisps of smoke began to
appear.

Would the smoke get them or the fire., Andrew
wondered? If neither he had an alternative.

There was the sound of a small explosion.
Now what was that? Could have been any of
a dozen things.

Then he heard a female scream. Mrs McGinty
or the daughter? He couldn't tell. Whoever,
someone was now awake.

A young woman appeared at an upstairs
window and threw it open, staring out in blind
terror. She clearly considered jumping, then
changed her mind and vanished from view.

Andrew took out his service revolver just in
case it was needed. Using his thumb the slipped
off the safety catch.
He wondered if they'd try the rear door. Well,
if they did they wouldn't have any luck there,
he'd jammed it. If they did come out it would
have to be at the front.

The daughter's name was Roisin and she
was twenty-two years old. Andrew knew that
from discreet inquiries he'd made. She was the
McGintys' only child, just as Alice had been the
Fortescues'. Roisin opened the front door and
rushed out, her long hair ablaze.

Andrew took careful aim and shot her through
the head. She tumbled to the ground, hair still
ablaze, where she lay still.

The entire house was now an inferno. Through
the open door Andrew could see banks of flames
leaping and dancing.

Mrs McGinty was the next to emerge,


232

coughing and spluttering, her nightdress burning
at the hem.

'For Lady Sybil, you bitch,' Andrew muttered
as he pulled the trigger a second time.

And then McGinty was there, stark naked,
which Andrew considered, for some reason or
other, an added bonus. McGinty stopped to
stare at the bodies of his wife and daughter.

Andrew pulled the trigger a third time, only
there was to be no quick bullet in the brain for
McGinty. Andrew shot him in the stomach.

McGinty grunted and slumped to the ground
beside his wife where he writhed in agony, blood
dribbling from his mouth.

Andrew went and stood over him, smiling at
the knowledge of how excruciatingly painful that
particular death could be. McGinty stared up at
him through bulging eyes.

'It's for my Alice and her parents the
Fortescues,' Andrew explained, wanting McGinty
to know why he'd done all this.

'Protestant cunt,' McGinty croaked through a
froth of pink-tinged bubbles.

'You're going straight to hell, and that's
exactly where you belong. You're going to
roast,' Andrew crooned in reply.

McGinty continued to writhe, all the while
clutching where he'd been shot.

Then Andrew had an idea. He put his revolver
away and grasped McGinty by the shoulders.
McGinty, too weak to resist, groaned as Andrew
dragged him towards the doorway.

The heat was almost too much for Andrew
but he was determined to do what he intended.


233



Sweat rolled down his face as he hoisted
McGinty to his feet and pointed him at the
door.

'No . . . no!' McGinty choked.

'And the roasting starts here,' Andrew
declared, pitching McGinty inside.

McGinty screamed and continued to scream
until it was all over.

Andrew collected the three jerrycans and
tossed them through the door as well, then
beat a hasty retreat.

He walked away, not looking back. Alice had
been avenged.

And sweet revenge it was.



234


14


Kathleen frowned. She was putting the weekly
wash together and it seemed to her she'd caught
a whiff of scent. Picking up the shirt Pat had
worn to the last committee meeting she brought
it to her nose.

She hadn't imagined it, there was a definite
smell of scent. And a rather nice one too, she
thought.

But how could Pat get scent on his shirt?
There wouldn't have been any women at the
meeting for him to accidentally rub up against.
So where had it come from?

Kathleen stared at the shirt in consternation,
unable to think of an explanation for this. How
on earth had scent got on Pat's shirt!

She shook out the shirt and examined its
front. Nothing unto wards there. Neither on the
collar nor body of the shirt. Turning it round
she began examining the back.

Kathleen caught her breath when she saw
the faint red smudge close to the left armpit.
She smelled that too to confirm it was what
it appeared, lipstick.

She went very cold all over. Scent on his shirt
and a smudge of lipstick could only mean one
thing. Pat, her Pat, her husband, was seeing
another woman.

Tears welled into her eyes. Surely not, Pat and
someone else. And yet there was the proof.


235


Still clutching the shirt she staggered to a chair
and slumped into it. It seemed obvious there
were no such things as the committee meetings,
they were just an excuse for Pat to meet up with
whoever the bitch was. What a fool she'd been.
What a complete and utter fool.

Why? That was the question, why? Hadn't
she been a good wife to Pat? As far as she was
concerned she had. She hadn't been remiss in
any' way.

All right, their marriage was fairly humdrum.
But they had been married for years and people
like them didn't have exciting lives anyway. It
was a constant day-to-day struggle just trying to
make ends meet.

Another woman, it seemed . . . well, just
impossible. It had never once entered her mind
that Pat might stray. Men like him didn't, at
least she wouldn't have thought so.

Kathleen sniffed, and wiped the tears from her
eyes. What a hammer blow this had been. And
so completely out of the blue. She was stunned
to say the least.

What to do? Confront him with it later on?
She wasn't sure about that at all. Apart from
anything else it would be embarrassing and
humiliating.

She stared again at the shirt. Then, on a
sudden impulse, grasped hold of it with both
hands and tried to rip it. But the material was
too strong for her and refused to be ripped.

Not to be beaten Kathleen got out of the chair
and crossed to the drawer where she kept a large
pair of scissors. She didn't cut the material, but


236



.

stuck the point of the scissors through it and
ripped it that way. Not just once but several
times. When she was finished she felt a whole
deal better.

'Damn you Pat Flynn,' she muttered. 'Damn
you to hell for a cheating bastard.'


*


'Is something wrong, Kathleen?' Pat inquired
on returning home from work that evening. The
atmosphere was icy cold.

'No,' came the terse reply.

'Ma's in a bad mood,' Alison declared.

'I am nothing of the sort.'

'Oh yes you are, Ma. You've been ever so
grumpy since I got back from school.'

'Can I get you anything?' Pat asked.

She glared at him, wanting to smack him
across the face. 'Just sit down and be quiet
while I get on with tea.'

'What is it tonight?' he queried.

'Potted hough.'

Alison pulled a face. 'I don't like potted
hough,' she complained.

'That's too bad, young lady. It's what I'm
serving up. If you don't want any you can go
without.'

Pat glanced at Alison and raised his eyebrows.
Heaven knew what this was all about. It was
obvious Kathleen was in a right old paddy.


*


237



'Get off me!' Kathleen hissed and pushed Pat
away. They had just come to bed. The thought
of him touching her made her want to vomit.

'Will you please tell me what's wrong? You've
been in a hellish mood ever since I arrived
home.' He didn't really want to make love to
her but had thought it might ease the situation,
whatever that situation was.

Kathleen didn't reply.

*'Is it me? Have I done something? Or have I
forgotten to do something?'

Kathleen turned her back on him. Let him
get that from his fancy piece. He'd get no more
of it from her.	-*

'Kathleen?'

Again there was no reply.

'Buggeration!' he swore angrily.


*


'Another cup?'

lan Seaton shook his head. He'd had more
than enough.

The neither,' Moira McLaren smiled. The
two of them were alone, on a Sunday afternoon
with lan paying what had become a regular
weekend visit.

Moira glanced at the window, purposefully
showing off her profile of which .she was
justifiably proud. 'I do hate winter,' she
declared.

lan shrugged. 'It's not that bad.'

'I much prefer summer. We'll go for picnics
when that arrives. I know the most beautiful


238

shady spot beside the river. It will be quite
heavenly.'

lan smiled, totally charmed by her. Tm
looking forward to the first one already.'

Moira brought her attention back to lan. 'Tell
me about your week,' she requested. 'Was it
terribly hard?'

'Oh, very.'

She didn't really wish to hear about his week
on the estate which would undoubtedly be boring
in the extreme, but she knew men enjoyed
talking about their work, and themselves, which
was why she'd made the request. She forced
herself to sit and listen attentively, apparently
hanging on his every word, as lan prattled on.*


*


Bridie sighed as she closed Fame, which she'd
just finished. It had been absolutely smashing.

She glanced over at the sleeping Jeannie
Swanson, smiling when Jeannie gave a soft
snort. She then laid the book carefully aside and
blew out the candle situated by her bedside.

When Miss Rose returned from Ireland she'd
give her back the book and ask if she could
please borrow another.

That night she dreamed of being a great
actress.


*


'Hello, Bridie, how are you today?'
'Fine, thank you.'


239


He decided to tease Bridie. 'What, no title. I
thought it was to be Sir lan of Seaton?'

Bridie flushed slightly.

'And I was going to call you Maid Bridie.'

She was aware of being teased. 'So you were,
Sir lan.'

'Sir lan he mused. 'You know I really do
like the sound of that. A title in the family at
last. Pa will be delighted.'

Bridie was suddenly anxious. 'Oh you won't
tell him, please? It was only our little joke
between the pair of us.'

She was a pretty little thing, lan thought.
Couldn't compare with Moira of course, but
pretty enough. She'd make some lucky chap a
dashed fine wife.

He chucked her under the chin. 'Don't you
worry, Bridie. I shan't tell Pa or anyone else.
As you say, it's our little joke between the pair
of us.'

'Thank you.'

'Sir lan?'

She smiled. 'Thank you, Sir lan.'

' 'Bye, Maid Bridie.'

'Goodbye, Sir lan.'

Laughing softly, lan continued on down the
corridor.


I

i

*


Sean gazed with satisfaction round the sitting
room of the three-bedroom tenement house that
they'd rented. Between them they'd painted it
then decent second-hand furniture had been


240

bought and installed.

'It's quite a wee palace,' he declared.

'Aye, it is that,' Bobby O'Toole agreed from
the sofa where he was lounging.

'There's just one thing still to be done,'
Noddy Gallagher said. 'And by you, Scan.'

'What's that?'

Jim Gallagher produced the samurai sword
from behind a chair. 'The nails are already in
the wall, Sean. All that's left is for you to do
the honours.'

Sean accepted the sword from Jim and crossed
to the fireplace. Standing on the hearth he
hooked the sword on to the nails.

'Looks even better here than in that other
dump,' he declared to mutterings of agreement.

Sean rounded on the gang. 'I've been thinking.
As time passes our numbers will continue to
grow, no doubt about it. That being so we
can't allow everyone in here, it wouldn't be
long before we'd be packed like sardines.'

That got a laugh from several of the others.

'So from now on only present gang members
are allowed to use this place. Me as leader, and
you lot as lieutenants. Anyone who joins after
today is just an ordinary gang member who
defers to us, right?'

'Right!' came the delighted chorus of replies.

Lieutenant, Mo Binchy thought. Oh, that
made him proud right enough. It really made
him someone.

'Now I've got some other plans,' Sean
announced.

He sat while the others prepared to listen.


241


*


Georgina placed her cup back on its saucer. She,
Willie, Rose and Andrew were in a coffee shop
where they'd stopped for a rest and refreshment.
'If you'll excuse me for a few minutes I want
to drop by a chemist shop I noticed on the
way in.'

'Chemist shop?' Willie repeated with a frown.
Ts something wrong, my dear?'

She patted him reassuringly on the hand.
'Nothing at all, Willie. I merely need a few articles.'

'Shall I come with you?'

'No, you stay here. I'm quite capable of going
into a chemist shop by myself after all.'

'Of course you are.'

Willie hurriedly helped her with her chair as
she got up. 'A few minutes only,' she repeated,
and swept away.


*


Til come to your room around midnight
tonight,' Georgina said quietly to a startled
Andrew shortly afterwards. She and Andrew
were walking a little behind Willie and Rose.

'Are you mad! What about Willie?'

'Don't you worry about Willie. I'll take
care of him. He'll know nothing about it. I
promise you.'

'You can't, Georgina. It's far too dangerous.
What if you're seen, for God's sake!'

'I won't be. And even if I am who's to know


242

I'm keeping an assignation.'

Andrew swallowed hard. 'No, Georgina. I
want nothing to do with this.'

She thought of the desperate craving inside
her, a craving only Andrew could properly
satisfy. She had to go to bed with him. She
just had to. Her whole body ached for it.

'Scared?' she teased.

'Damn right I am. I've told you, Willie's my
friend.'

'And I'm your lover. Don't forget that.'

'You're nothing of the sort. Not in the real
sense anyway. It was once and once only.'

Her eyes glittered with determination. Since
marrying Willie she was used to getting what
she wanted. 'Around midnight,' she repeated.


*


At half-past eleven Andrew switched off his
beside light, and lay back to wait. Damn and
blast the woman, he thought. Damn and blast
her to hell.

He closed his eyes, recalling the night of
passion they'd had together. The voluptuous
body that had so eagerly moulded itself against
his. The sweetness of her mouth. The firmness
of her breasts. The hot wetness that had . . .

He snapped his eyes open again. He mustn't
give in. All right, so he desired her, but
that wasn't the point. He had no intention
of continuing their relationship. If Willie was
ever to find out it would be the end of
the man.


243


What he couldn't understand was how she
would get away from Willie. Surely she wasn't
just going to wait until he fell asleep and then
take a chance he wouldn't wake to find her
gone. That would be sheer insanity.


*


'Willie?'

There was no reply.

'Willie?' Said a little louder.

Again no reply.

Turning to him she grasped his shoulder and
gently shook him. 'Willie?'

Still no reply or reaction.

Georgina smiled to herself. The draught the
chemist had sold her had done its stuff. Willie
was out for the count and would stay that
way until morning. Three drops for a good
night's sleep the chemist had advised. She'd
put six into the cocoa she'd had room service
bring, and insisted he finish before they went
to bed.

She slipped from under the covers.


*


Andrew heard a small sound as the doorhandle
was turned. Christ! she'd come after all. He'd
almost persuaded himself she wouldn't.

There was a pause, followed by the soft
rattling of the doorhandle being repeatedly
turned, to no avail. The door was securely
locked.


244

'Andrew?' Her voice was quietly urgent.
'Andrew?'

How long would she stay there, he wondered?
Seconds only if she had any sense. He couldn't
believe he was keeping a beautiful, and available,
woman from his room. The callous Andrew of
old would have had no compunction about
letting her in, friend's wife or not.

'Andrew, I know you're in there. Open up.'

He took a deep breath, then ran a hand over
his face. He was surprised to find his forehead
damp with sweat.

'Andrew!'

Go away, he silently commanded. Go away,
Georgina!

A furious and very frustrated Georgina did
just that.


*


If looks could kill, the one Georgina shot
Andrew next morning across the breakfast table
would have sent him tumbling stone-cold dead
to the floor.

Willie yawned. 'Sorry,' he hastily apologised.
'I'm still frightfully tired for some reason. Most
unlike me after a full night's sleep.'

'You were very restless,' Georgina lied. 'That's
probably the reason.'

'I slept like a log myself,' Rose informed
them.

Andrew was feeling most uncomfortable,
having already decided to beg off accompanying
the Seatons that day. Instead he'd go to


245


Greystones, his last port of call. And later,
perhaps Alice's grave again.

'How about you, Andrew?' Georgina smiled
thinly. 'Did you sleep well?'

'I did, thank you.'

'Good.'

Willie yawned again. 'Dear, oh dear, what's
wrong with me?'

'Old age, Pa?' Rose teased.

He smiled benignly at her. 'Wait till it catches
up with you, my girl, you won't be so flippant
then.'

'You're not old, Willie,' Georgina snapped.
'You're in your prime.'

'Aaahh!' he sighed. 'If only t'were true.'

How cross she was, Andrew thought. But then
that was perfectly understandable. Cross, and
gorgeous with it. He addressed himself once
more to his bacon and eggs.


*


Andrew stood at the ship's rail watching the
Irish coastline recede into the distance. He
knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, he'd
never return there.

'Andrew.'

He turned to find Georgina standing beside
him. This was the first time they'd been, alone
since the night she'd come to his hotel bedroom.

'Hello, Georgina. Taking a turn on deck?'

'Something like that. Willie's having a nap so
I came up for some fresh air.'

He sniffed. 'And fresh it certainly is. I've


246

always liked sea air, it's so bracing I find.' He
was nervous about this, wondering what she was
going to say.

'I've never been so embarrassed and humiliated
in my life,' she stated.

'I told you not to come,' he replied softly.

'I felt so ... cheap ... so dirty.'

'I'm sorry about that.'

'You were inside, weren't you?'

'Yes,' he admitted.

'I knew you were. You could have at least let
me in.'

'And then what?' He shook his head. 'No,
what I did was for the best, believe me.'

Tears misted Georgina's eyes. 'You don't
understand, Andrew. You don't at all.'

'No?'

'I don't wish to sound disloyal to Willie, which
I suppose is laughable in the circumstances. I
told you he was the only other man I've ever
been to bed with, and that's true. The thing
is, he just doesn't satisfy me. Not in the least.
I never knew what it could really be like, what
I've been missing all these years, until you.'

Andrew gazed out over the sea.

'I had more pleasure with you that night,
Andrew, in that one night, than all the times
put together that I've been with Willie.'

'He can't be that bad, surely,' Andrew said
softly.

247


things to me, made me feel sensations, I'd never
dreamed of.'

She paused, then said meaningfully., 'Can you
blame me for wanting more of the same?'

He couldn't, but wasn't going to admit to the
fact. If only she wasn't Willie's damn wife!

'You must think me a shameless hussy talking
like this.'

'Not at all, Georgina.'

'But I wanted you to understand, fully
understand. And now you do.'

'I'm so sorry,' he said.

'Not nearly as much as me, I can assure
you.'

He shouldn't say this, he really knew he
shouldn't. But he'd taken pity on her. 'There
are other men you know.'

She stared grimly at him. 'Other than you,
you mean.'

'Yes.'

Then I could . . . have an affair with.'

He was hating this. 'It seems a possible
solution. Don't you think?'

Georgina bit her lip. 'I suppose so. Except I
wouldn't know where to start. You just sort of
wandered into our life and it went from there.
My curiosity got the better of me.'

'In what way?'

'If there was a difference between men, or if
they were all like Willie. The answer stunned
me somewhat.' She hesitated, then went oh. 'I
don't regret anything, Andrew.'

He did, but didn't say so.

'If I do have a regret, and I surely do, it's that


248

there can't be more of the same. More nights
like the one we had.'

He could suddenly smell her, a smell he found
terribly exciting. Closing his eyes for a brief
second he pictured her as she'd been when
she'd opened her negligee to him. A twitch,
and then a stronger twitch. He was becoming
aroused.

'I'd better get back.' Georgina smiled sadly.

'Before you go, what did you do to Willie
before you came to my hotel bedroom?'

The sad smile became an amused one. 'A
sleeping draught I got from the chemist. Willie
went out like a light.'

He nodded. 'I thought it must be something
like that.'

She fixed him with her gaze. 'There's still
plenty left, Andrew. Any time I wish to use
it.'

And with that she turned and left him.

Andrew stared after her. Get behind me,
Satan, he thought. Get behind me.


*


Andrew pulled up in front of Drummond House
and switched off the car's engine. He sat there
for a few moments thinking how good it was to
be home again.

As it was a Sunday Charlotte wouldn't be at
the distillery so he'd drop by the Manse later
to see how she'd got on. Not that he had any
worries in that respect, Charlotte had run the
business before he had after all.


249


He thought of Ellen; he'd summon her to his
room that night. It might only be a fortnight but
it felt as though he'd been away for months.

He needed a woman and he needed one
badly.

Very badly.


*


Antirew sighed and rolled off Ellen. That had
been quick by his standards. But was only an
hors d'oeuvre as far as he was concerned. The
main course would follow shortly.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

'I'm just trying to catch my breath, that's
all.'

He laughed softly.

Ellen wasn't sure what Andrew's reaction was
going to be to this, but it had to be said. She
just hoped he wasn't going to be angry.

'Andrew.'

'What?'

Tm getting married.'

He came on to one elbow. 'Who to?'

'George Forsyth. You know him.'

'Of course I know him. How long has this
been going on?'

'A wee while. He proposed last week.'

'Well, congratulations, I suppose.'

'You're not cross are you?' she queried
anxiously.

He laughed again. 'Why should I be? It's only
an arrangement between you and me after all.'

'It's a big chance for me. He came into that


250

small farm when his father died. He needs a
wife and I consider myself lucky that he's
asked me.'

Andrew thought of George Forsyth. A
personable young man if a bit of a clod.
'Do you love him?'

'He loves me. At least he swears he does.'

'That doesn't answer my question, Ellen.'

'No,' she whispered in the darkness. 'But I'll
come to, given time. And I'll make him a fine wife. He wouldn't get better.'

'I presume this means you're going to leave?'

'That's right.'

'Well, I can only wish you all the very best,
and I mean that. I'm happy for you.'

'Thank you.'

He was going to miss her, he thought, but
was already wondering if there was anyone else
in the household he could approach to strike the
same arrangement. He couldn't think of anyone
offhand.

He ran a hand over her naked thigh. 'It's none
of my business, but have you and George . . . ?'

She turned her face away from him. 'Yes.'

Sharing a woman with George Forsyth he
found quite repugnant. He wouldn't have Ellen
in his bed again. 'I think we'd better stop this
after tonight, don't you agree?'

'If you wish.'

'I believe it best. So when's the wedding?'

'June.'

That was only a couple of months off. Til
give you a damned good present. How's that?'

'You're very kind,' she replied appreciatively.


251


He wouldn't have her to bed again, he
reflected, but in the meantime she was lying
here beside him. George Forsyth or not, it
would be stupid to lose the opportunity. Who
knew when he'd get another.

Ellen had well earned her money when she
finally left Andrew's bedroom.


*


Willie laid down the last of the ledgers he'd been
studying. 'You've done well in my absence, lan.
By which I mean you haven't mucked anything
up. At least not as far as I can make out.'

'Thanks, Pa.'	.
Willie regarded his son. 'And how's Moira?'
'Fine. Tip top. I was there again on Sunday.'
Willie nodded his approval. He had high
hopes of this relationship. 'We must have her
and her parents over to dinner shortly. I'll speak
to Georgina about it.'
'Sounds grand.'

'Right, you toddle off and get on with your
other duties. The old man's back in charge.'


*


'Who in the hell can that be?' Pat grumbled
when there was a knock on the outside door.
He was tired after his day and, having had tea,
had thought to settle down for a snooze.

Til get it,' Kathleen said, and hurried from
the room. She knew precisely who it was.

'We've a visitor,' she announced on returning


252

to the kitchen. 'Father O'Banion.'

'God bless all here.' O'Banion smiled.

Pat struggled to his feet. 'This is a surprise,
Father.'

'And sure, isn't the world full of them,'
O'Banion replied in his thick Irish brogue.

'Alison, you come with me. We're going out for a while,' Kathleen declared.

That further surprised Pat. 'You're not going
out with the good Father here?' he protested.

'Ah, but you're the one I've come to see,
Pat.'

The?'

'You indeed.'

Kathleen bundled Alison from the room,
closing the kitchen door behind her.

Pat was mystified. Then he thought he had it.
'I know, it's because I haven't been to confession
lately.'

'Not for some time I understand.'

Pat shrugged. 'You know how it is, Father.
You miss once which becomes twice, and
so on.'

'I'm sure God will understand when you
explain that to him one fine day,' O'Banion
replied, still smiling.

Pat blanched.

'Now may I have a seat?'

'Of course, Father. How rude of me.
Please ... 'He indicated a chair. 'And how
about a cup of tea? I'm afraid I've nothing
stronger in the house.'

'No tea for me, Pat. But thank you all the
same.'


253


Pat sat facing the priest. 'Now what's this all
about, Father?'


*


The house was empty when Kathleen returned.
A quick examination of her now empty purse,
which she'd inadvertently left behind, told her
where Pat had gone.


*


Pat, who'd been to a pub he didn't normally
frequent, one that sold neither beer nor spirits
but poured glasses of cheap red wine and
strong cider, a lethal combination when drunk
in tandem, as was the custom there, was roaring
drunk when he arrived home.

'Don't wake the wean!' Kathleen pleaded
when, wild eyed, he came bursting into the
kitchen.

Pat grabbed Kathleen and pushed her out of
the room and into their bedroom. 'How did you
find out?' he demanded.

She explained about the scent and smudge of
lipstick.

'And you went to the priest, you fucking
bitch!'

'I . . . '

Kathleen got no further. Pat's balled fist
flashed to crack against her cheek.

And that was only the start.

254

'What the hell happened to you, Ma?' Scan
demanded next morning on seeing his mother's
battered face.

A horrendously hung-over Pat tensed. He'd
returned the previous night before Sean had
come home so his son knew nothing, nor had
heard anything, of what had happened.

Kathleen dropped her gaze for an instant. 'It
was my own fault, I was going to the toilet when
I tripped on the stairs and fell the length of them.
You can see the result.'

'It looks right sore.'

'It is, Sean. It is.' Not only on her face but all
over her body, Pat had given her a humdinger
of a leathering.

Pat turned away, filled with relief. If Kathleen
had told the truth, who knew what the outcome
might have been.


255



15


Who knows how these things happen? Or why?
The only thing certain is that they do.

lan was going upstairs, deep in thought, when
he met Bridie coming down. Their eyes met,
locked, and in that instant they each saw the
other quite differently. In that instant they fell
in love.

lan stopped in his tracks, flustered, while
Bridie reddened. Their eyes remained locked.
'I, eh . . . I, eh . . . ' lan stuttered.
Bridie broke their gaze to study the carpet
beneath her feet. She could feel her heart going
nineteen to the dozen. She was as stunned
as Jan.

'How are you today, Bridie?' lan eventually
managed to get out.

'Fine, thank you, sir,' she replied in a small
voice.

'And a beautiful day it is too.'
'Yes, sir.'

His mind had gone from being suddenly
numb to whirling. He couldn't believe what he
was feeling. He had a mad impulse to wrap her
in his arms and hold her tight. Hold Jier tight
then kiss her deeply.

Bridie swallowed hard. What she'd seen in
that moment was the prince of her dreams come
to life. This was for real, she told herself, not a
story book imagining or a bit of banter between


256

the pair of them. She'd called him her prince
that day in the wood, and now . . . Now he
actually was.

'I'd better get on,' lan said, and brushed
past her.

Bridie went around for the rest of that day in
a daze.


*


'What's wrong with you?' Jeannie Swanson
demanded as they were getting ready for bed.

'Nothing, why?'

'You look very strange.'

'Do I?'

'Very. Are you ill?'

Not ill, Bridie thought. But in love. Desperately
so. So much she ached from it. She shook
her head.

Jeannie shrugged. 'I see you've got another
book to read.'

'Yes, I borrowed it from Miss Rose.'

'You wouldn't get me wasting precious sleep
time on a book. We get little enough as it is.'

'I enjoy it,' Bridie replied simply.

'You'd have to, and that's a fact.'

Bridie smiled thinly and continued undressing.

A few minutes later she was snuggled up in
bed with the candle flickering by her bedside.
She opened her new book and attempted to
start it, but all she could see was a jumble of
words overlaid with an image of lan.

lan meanwhile was sitting on the edge of his
bed trying to make sense of what had occurred,


257


and utterly failing to do so.

It was ridiculous, he told himself. Preposterous!
How could he fall in love with a housemaid. The
whole thing was laughable.

Except, if it was that, why wasn't he laughing?


*


'How's the book coming along?'
fack Riach sighed. 'I wish I knew.'
'Oh?'

'The more I get into it the more lost I seem
to be.'

Andrew frowned. 'Lost? I don't understand.'

'Neither do I really. You know the expression
about being unable to see the wood for the
trees, well that about sums it up. I'm in there
somewhere, but just can't for the life of me get
an overall picture.'

Andrew wasn't sure what to make of that.
'What does Hettie say?'

'That it's all right.'

'There you are then.'

Jack had a sip of whisky. How he looked
forward to these Friday nights out with Andrew,
always pleased when they came around again.
'It's just as difficult as I imagined it would be,'
he declared softly. 'The scope is so much bigger
than a play.'

'You'll cope.'

'I only hope so.'

'And how's Hettie getting on with her typing?'

Jack smiled. 'I love sitting there listening to

her trying to learn the infernal machine as she


258

now calls it. Tap tap tap tap tap, it's very
soothing.'

Andrew smiled, not for the first time wishing
he was in a relationship as good and strong as
Jack's. How he envied him, in the nicest way
possible.

'Have you heard from the Seatons?' Jack
inquired casually, already knowing what Georgina
had tried to do in Ireland.

Andrew shook his head. 'No.'

'Maybe just as well if you ask me.'

'I'm not.'

Jack laughed. 'I see.'

'No, you don't. The girl I had an arrangement
with at Drummond House is leaving to get
married.'

'Ah!'

'Damn and blast.'

'That would be Ellen Temple then.'

'You've heard of the impending marriage I
take it.'

'Something of the sort. George Forsyth, I
understand.' Jack chuckled. 'He'll keep her busy.
A lusty lad is George by all accounts.'

It depressed Andrew to think of Ellen. She
had been so ... well, convenient. And not bad
in bed either, once he'd taught her a few tricks.
Tricks that had been taught him years ago.

'So what are you going to do now?' Jack
queried. 

'I'm not certain. I'll have to think about it.'

'There must be someone else in your employ
who'd like the same arrangement.'

'Possibly. As I said, I have to think about it.'


259


And in the meantime you're thinking about 
Georgina Seaton?'	'


I

I

Andrew gazed into his pint. 'To be truthful
Jack, the answer's yes. I haven't slept with Ellerx
since she told me her news. And frankly . . . you
know how it is.'

are
my


its

'You always were a libidinous swine.'
'That's me Andrew agreed.
'And how about the young one, Rose?'
'I said before, I'm not interested.'
'Then why is it I don't believe you?'
Andrew sighed. 'Honestly, Jack, there
times when I think you can see into
very soul.'

Jack laughed. 'Being blind does have _
compensations. Your voice gives so much away,
Andrew. It's most expressive.'


'If she was older, then perhaps. But it's the
age, Jack. That and . . . her being Willie's
daughter.'

'Hmmh,' Jack mused.

'Despite the age difference we do get on rather
well. We spent a considerable amount of time in
each other's company when in Ireland.'

'You said. While you were keeping out of
stepmama's way.'

Andrew saw off what remained in his whisky
glass. 'Will you have another round?'

'I'd be delighted to, old boy. And several
after that.'

Both men laughed.


I

*


260


'Pat strolled into the kitchen. 'Well, that's it then.
I'm off to my committee meeting.'
A tight-lipped Kathleen refused to look at

him.

'Kathleen?'

'If you must,' she forced herself to say.

'Oh but I do. I most certainly do.' He knew
he was being cruel, but couldn't stop himself.
She should never have set that damned priest
on him. That was going too far.

Til be home around the usual time,' he said.

Kathleen didn't reply.

' 'Bye, Pa,' Alison beamed.

"Bye, angel.'

He sauntered from the room and moments
later the outside door snicked shut.

Kathleen swore inwardly. How could he do
this, how could he? It was beyond her.

At least she'd stuck to the promise she'd made
herself. Pat wasn't getting any at home. Nor
would he ever again. Let him go to his fancy
piece. Hell mend the pair of them.


*


It was nearly midnight when a far from sober
Pat left Geraldine Buchanan's. Hands deep in
pockets he set off down the street.

It hadn't been as good as usual, and he
didn't know why. Oh, there had been drink
a-plenty with Geraldine looking just as desirable
as always. And yet, if he was honest with himself,
he hadn't enjoyed it, or her, nearly as much as
he normally did.


261


Conscience,, he wondered? Probably. It had
been different somehow when Kathleen didn't
know about him and Geraldine. Different and
more exciting.


Pat shook his head. What was he complaining
about? All the free bevvy he could get down his
throat and a woman like that to boot. There was
certainly nothing to complain about.

He stopped and closed his eyes for a few
moments, feeling giddy. He hoped he wasn't
going to be sick, waste of good alcohol that.

He opened his eyes again to stare up at a
sky filled with stars, stars that all seemed to be
staring directly down at him.

He suddenly shuddered and was filled with
dread. God was watching, and judging him. He
knew that. Just as he knew he was in the wrong.
It frightened him.

Pat stumbled on his way.


*


'Are you working or having a wee daydream
to yourself?'	

lan started, then smiled somewhat foolishly at Jock Gibson whose approach he hadn't
heard. Tm sorry. You're quite right. I was
daydreaming.'

'Oh aye?'

'A personal matter.'

'A personal matter is it!' Jock replied
sarcastically. 'Could you not day-dream about
that in your own time?'

'I said I'm sorry, Mr Gibson.'


262


Jock regarded him shrewdly. 'There's been
something wrong with you these past few days.
I've noticed it.'

lan didn't respond.

'Anything you want to talk about?'

lan shook his head.

'Well, if it's that personal and bothering you
so much maybe you want to speak to your
father.'

'No, I'll work it out myself.'

Jock nodded. 'Well, I want you to do a bit
of logging later on so for Pete's sake keep your
mind on the job when you've got an axe in
your hand. I don't want you doing yourself
damage.'

'I will and I won't, I promise.'

Jock grunted. 'See that you do.'

lan watched Jock walk away. It had been
Bridie he'd been thinking of, wondering about.
He'd spoken to her again that morning in
passing, nothing much, the usual sort of thing.
Was it his imagination or had she seemed as ill
at ease as himself? It had certainly appeared so.
Ill at ease and most uncomfortable.

Again he'd had the mad desire to wrap his
arms around her and then kiss her deeply.

'Silly bugger,' he muttered to himself, and got
on with the task in hand.


*


How handsome he was, Bridie thought, standing
at a window observing lan trudge home from
work. He paused for a second, and seemed to


263


stare directly at her which caused her to blush.
Hurriedly she turned away.

She mustn't think of this in a romantic sense,
she told herself. She could no more have lan
Seaton than fly to the moon. He was of the
landed gentry, way beyond her, she a working
class Glasgow lassie.

And yet ... oh, but it was lovely to dream.
If only things had been different. If it had been
atall possible.

But it wasn't, she must always remember that,
lan would marry this fine Moira McLaren he
was courting, or winching to use the Glasgow
word. And what a beauty she was. A right looker
and no mistake.

Bridie sighed. How had this happened to her?
Falling in love with the master's son. It was daft
when you thought about it. She had no hope
there, none at all.

'lan.' She said the word aloud. Tasting
it, savouring it. A common enough name in
Scotland, perhaps the most common, but now
it had taken on a whole new meaning for her.
'lan.'

She shivered.

Imagine being married to him. Sharing the
days with him, and the nights. Her throat was
suddenly dry at the thought of the latter. She
and lan in bed together. He ...
It could never be. Would never be.
But wouldn't it have been wonderful.


*


264

'Are you taking the piss, son?'

Scan stared at Bob Mather, owner of The
Sheugh pub. 'Not in the least.'

'Let me get this straight. I'm supposed to pay
you protection money, is that it?'

'Insurance is a better word.'

Bob laughed. 'Away to fuck, you wee nyaff.
Don't try to put the frighteners on me. I could
eat you and this poxy lot with you for breakfast.'
Bob stuck out a barrel chest. 'Do you know who
in the hell I am?'

'Of course.'

Bob brought his face to within inches of
Sean's. 'I don't think you do, son. I used to be
the middle-weight champion of Scotland. One
punch from me and you'd be flat on your arse
and staying there.' He gestured at Mo, Noddy,
Jim and Bill O'Connell. 'Same with these cunts.
A single punch each and that would be that.'

'Are you all right, Mr Mather?'

The speaker was a barman wearing the
traditional white jacket. 'Oh aye, fine, Tarn.'

Another barman appeared from out back.
'Come over here, Alex,' Bob called out.

Bob turned again to Scan. 'This is Tarn, he
fought in the war. That right, Tarn?'

Tarn nodded.

'How many Gerries did you kill?'

'I don't know how many in all, but a definite
six in hand to hand.'

Bob smiled at Scan. 'And you, Alex, how
many did you kill?' he said over his shoulder.

'Like Tarn, I can't say how many in all. But
five in hand to hand.'


265


'Five,' Bob repeated, eyes glittering. 'And how
did you do the last bastard?'	i
'I strangled the fucker.' Alex paused, then '
added softly, 'Very slowly.'

A tremor of fear ran up Scan's spine. This
was a different proposition entirely to scaring
an ice-cream shop owner and the like.

'And let me tell you this, sonny boy,' Bob
went on, his tone chilling. 'These lads, and
others like them, are always here. So you try
any funny business and you'll find you've bitten
off more than you can chew. Understand?'

Scan didn't answer.

Bob grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket.
'Do you understand?'

Scan swallowed. 'Yes.'

'Good.'

Bob released Scan. 'Now get your miserable
arses out of my pub before I have them
kicked out.'


*


'That was humiliating so it was,' Mo declared
when they were outside, and spat on the
pavement.

Sean glared at him.

'Well, it bloody well was.'

'Are we going back mob-handed?' Bill
O'Connell asked.


Sean didn't fancy the idea of going up against
the likes of Tarn and Alex. He didn't fancy it
one little bit. Not even with the advantage of a
razor.


266

'Let it be for now, all right?'

Bill gave a sigh of relief. Nor was he the
only one.

When they got to 'the place', as they now
referred to it, Sean took himself off to a bedroom
where he closed the door before lying down. A
bed a number of lassies associated with gang
members had already had experience of.

Sean knew one thing was certain. He wasn't
going to be beaten. He was damned if he was.

But what to do? Aye, what to do?


*


'Sammy, I've a wee job for you.'

Sammy Renton glanced up at Sean. 'And
what's that?'

'You've heard what happened at The Sheugh?'

Sammy nodded.

'Well, leave it a few days and then get yourself
round there. You must be casual like, I don't
want you to arouse any suspicions, but try and
find out if Mather has a family, and if he does
what it consists of.'

'That should be easy enough,' Sammy replied.

'And I mean it when I say casual like. Even
if it takes going back a couple of times. We'll
pay for the drink.'

'Hey, why him?' Mo queried.

Sean gave Mo a withering look. 'Because they
know you now. You'd be spotted the moment
you walked through the door.'

'Oh!'

'Got it?'


267


'Aye, Scan Mo said sheepishly.

'Have you got a plan?' Jim Gallagher inquired.

'Maybe,' Scan replied thoughtfully.


The message was simple:


*


She'd been pointed out to Scan by a classmate.
He now went over to the lassie who was just
leaving school with several of her pals.
to 'Are you Annie Mather?' he smiled.

The girl, whom he knew to be eight years
old, stared suspiciously at him. 'What of it,
mister?'
'I wonder if you'd do me a favour, Annie.' He
produced an envelope from his pocket. 'Would
you give this letter to your da.'

She gazed at the envelope, then up at him.
'Why don't you do it yourself?'

'The letter's urgent and I have to get off to
work. I do shifts you see,' he lied, handing her
the envelope which she reluctantly accepted.

'You're a good lass. Thank you very much.'

And with that Scan strode swiftly away.


*


'A letter?' Bob Mather frowned. This was strange
indeed. 'From a man at the school gate?'
'That's right, Da. He said it was urgent.'
He took the envelope. 'You'd better get off
and have your tea.'

'Can I go out to play afterwards?'

'Ask your ma. That's her department.'

Bob opened the envelope, pulled out the single


268

sheet of paper it contained, and started to read.
He went white.

Llr VVWAAL VYiiiU.

SHE'S A PRETTY LASS. IT WOULD BE A TRAGEDY
IF SHE WAS TO BE RAZOR-SCARRED FOR LIFE.


*


'Is Mr Mather about, Alex?'

Alex glared at Scan and the others with him.
'Aye, I'll get him for you.'

Scan glanced up the length of the bar where
Tam and another barman were staring at them.
The look on Tarn's face spoke of a desire for
more hand-to-hand combat.

Bob Mather appeared. 'What do you want?'

'Twenty pounds a week. First payment now.'

Bob could hardly contain himself. 'Call
yourself a man, threatening a wee lassie.'

'Your pride and joy I shouldn't wonder, being
an only child.'

Bob's lips thinned until they almost disappeared.
He didn't doubt for one moment that the threat
in the letter was real.

He reached for his wallet.


*


They went straight from The Sheugh to an off
licence where they bought whisky and screwtops
of beer. Then it was back to 'the place' to
celebrate.

Sean couldn't have been more chuffed.


269


*


'I enjoy walking so much Moira McLaren
declared.

'So do I,' lan smiled. That was true enough,
he did enjoy walking. But he wouldn't have
elected to go for one by himself on a Sunday
afternoon,, because he got enough of it during
the week while working on the estate.

Moira slipped an arm through his. 'Mind?'

'Not at all.'

There was a feline look about her that day
he thought. She might have been a cat who'd
just consumed a large bowl of cream and was
now lying in front of a roaring fire.

He glanced about, ensuring they weren't being
observed. Then stopped. 'I want to kiss you,' he
stated.

Her answer was to close her eyes and pucker.

Her mouth was sweet, her scent strong in
his nostrils. He could feel her breasts pressing
against him.


'That was lovely,' she breathed when the kiss
was over.

Lovely? It certainly hadn't been distasteful in
any way. And yet there had been a certain
nothingness about it. No fire, no real passion. At
least none that he'd experienced. He wondered
what it would be like to kiss Bridie.

Moira reached up and stroked his cheek with
a gloved hand. 'A penny for them?'

'Nothing. I wasn't thinking anything at all,'
he lied.

'You appeared to be.'


270

They resumed walking. 'My father and
stepmother are very keen on us, you know.'

'So are my parents.'

'They all ... seem to see us having a future
together.'

'Do you, lan?'

There was a few moments' silence before he
replied. 'It is early days, Moira. Don't you
agree?'

That disappointed her. 'I suppose so.'

'We don't want to make a mistake after all.
Do we?'

'No,' she reluctantly agreed, for she was set
on having lan for her own.

He thought again of Bridie. How could he be
talking like this, even if it was halfheartedly,
about having a future with Moira when he was
in love with another woman. It was absurd.

Moira shivered.

'Are you cold?'

'I am a bit.'

'We'd better start back then.'

They turned around and began retracing their
steps.

'There will be toasted crumpets when we get
in,' Moira stated.

'Yummy.'

'And coffee.'

'Just the ticket.'

Would he always love Bridie, he wondered? Or
would that pass as quickly as it had happened?
He had no idea whatsoever.

Moira, arm again through lan's, pulled herself
closer to him.


271


*


'Flynn!'	*

Scan stopped work. 'Aye, what is it?' The
speaker was his foreman Neil Donaldson.
'I've been meaning to speak to you.'
'Well, now's your chance.'
Donaldson didn't like Scan, the bugger was
too cocky by half. Cocky and cheeky with it.
'It's about all these days off,' he said.
'What about them?'

'This can't go on, Flynn. It seems you're only
here half the time.'

Which was true enough, Scan thought. He'd
been busy with Samurai business.

'I've been ill. I can't help that,' Scan declared
defiantly.

'That's as may be . . . '
'Are you calling me a liar?' Sean interjected
aggressively.

Donaldson took a step backwards. 'Nothing
of the sort.'

'You'd better not. Or else . . . ' He left the
threat unsaid.

'It's just . . . well I've got my boss to
account to. And he's mentioned you on several
occasions.'

'Has he indeed,' Sean smirked. 'I didn't know
he was even aware I existed.'

'He does, believe me. The thing is, you've got
to buck up, Flynn, or it's the sack I'm afraid.'
'The sack,' Sean mused.
'Aye, the sack.'
Sean made a sudden decision. He didn't need


272

this poxy job anyway. His income from the
Samurai was more than enough to live on.

'Tell you what,' he smiled. 'Why don't you
take your job and stick it up your arse.'

Sean laughed as he strode away. He was
finished with hard graft for ever. From here on
it was the life of Riley for him.

'Up your arse!' he shouted back over his
shoulder.


273



16


Kathleen's eyes flew to the clock then back again
to Sean when he strolled into the kitchen. 'Why
aren't you at work?' she demanded anxiously, remembering the last time a member of the
family had returned home unexpectedly.

'Because I've left. Told them what to do with
their job in no uncertain terms.'


Kathleen's hand went to her mouth. 'You
what!'

'You heard me. Ma.'

He crossed to a chair and threw himself into
it. 'What a relief to leave that bloody hell hole.
I've always hated it there.'

'But . . . ' She was suddenly angry. 'What do
you think you're playing at, Sean? You know
how hard jobs are to come by these days. God
knows when you'll get another.'

'I won't be getting another, Ma. I'm finished
with all that.' He fixed her with his gaze. 'And
don't you go worrying about the money I give
you every week. You'll get that as usual.'
'But how can I when you're not working?'
He tapped his nose. 'That's for me to know.'
She guessed this was to do with the Samurai of
which she'd been hearing dreadful tales of late.
It was a subject never discussed in the house.

What was it all coming to, she wondered in
despair? A husband who was seeing another
woman, a son who was a gang member and


274

now, it seemed, living off that. She shook her
head and turned away.

'It'll be all right, Ma, I promise.'

Would it? She doubted that.

Sean clasped his hands behind his head and
closed his eyes, thinking of those he'd left behind
at Barry's Iron Foundry. A bunch of wankers
he thought. That's what they were, a bunch of
wankers. Not like him. He was the clever one.

'Any chance of a cup of tea, Ma?'


*


'What time is this to put in an appearance?'
Kathleen queried next morning when Sean
entered the kitchen. 'It's gone ten o'clock.'

'No need to get up early any more, is
there.'

Kathleen sighed. 'I suppose you'll be wanting
your breakfast.'

'Aye, that's right, Ma.' He placed a ten
shilling note on the table. 'I fancy something
a bit special this morning, to sort of celebrate
like. Why don't you go down the shops and
get some bacon and eggs. For the pair of
us.'

'Bacon and eggs during the week!' she
exclaimed, scandalised.
'A wee treat, eh.'

Kathleen eyed the ten-shilling note. 'Is that
part of your lodging money?'

'No, it's extra. I can afford it.'

Kathleen reluctantly picked up the note, her
mouth watering at the prospect of bacon and


275


eggs. 'I only hope you can,' she said, crumpling
the note in her hand.

Scan laughed as he crossed to the sink to get
washed. The life of Riley he'd told himself, and
that's precisely what it was going to be from
here on.


*


'What is it? What's wrong?' Hettie demanded,
having found Jack sitting alone with the most
terrible expression on his face. She immediately
went and squatted beside him.

He reached out and found her hand. If he'd
been capable of crying he would have, but his
tear ducts had gone along with his eyes. 'Oh
Hettie,' he croaked.

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed
it, taking great comfort from that. 'I was thinking
about the war,' he said softly.
'Oh.'

'There was one young chap, I don't even know
his name but he couldn't have been more than
seventeen or eighteen, who fell off a duckboard
one day. Within seconds he was up to his waist
in mud.'

Jack paused, and swallowed hard. 'I can still
hear his screams as he continued to sink. We did
all that we could but the mud had too strong a
hold on him. If only we'd had a rope we might
have saved him, but we didn't and there wasn't
time to fetch one.'

'Oh, Jack,' Hettie murmured, and rubbed his
hand against her cheek.


276

1

'When the mud reached his neck I couldn't
look any longer and turned away. I stayed
turned away until those awful screams were
finally silenced. When I looked again there
was nothing to show where he'd gone down.
Nothing at all. He'd completely vanished.'

Jack shuddered. 'I think we feared the mud
most of all. If we had to go we all prayed it
would be quick and clean. A bullet through the
brain, blown to bits in an explosion, that sort of
thing. But the mud . . . that evil foul-smelling
mud. God alone knows how many men it
claimed.'

Hettie couldn't even begin to imagine what
it must have been like. Horrendous beyond
belief.

'It's a scene I'm going to put in the book,'
Jack said. 'It'll help the reader understand why
my hero changed so much between going off
to the Front and coming back. That scene and
others which haunt me.'

That night Jack dreamed it was he in the mud
and not the young lad he'd told Hettie about.
He woke with a great gasp, sitting bolt upright,
to find himself covered in hot, sticky sweat.

When he explained to Hettie, who'd also
woken, she took him into her arms and rocked
him as she would a baby.


*


'Thank you, darling,' Willie said, and stroked
Georgina's bare shoulder.
Another failure, she thought bitterly. All right


277


for him, but for her? That was a laugh. She'd
have to remedy matters later when he was
asleep.


Willie sighed. 'We should have a child you
know. One of our own.'


That startled Georgina somewhat. 'A child?'
she repeated.
'Wouldn't it be nice?'

Yes, she thought, it would be. She'd always
wanted a child. lan and Rose were hardly the
same thing. 'We haven't been blessed so far she
replied. 'There's nothing I can do about that.'

'I appreciate the fact, Georgina. I merely
mentioned that it would be nice if we ever
were.'

She tried to imagine what a child of theirs
would look like. Would he or she favour
Willie or herself? Or would he or she be an
amalgamation of both?

'I'd wish for another boy,' Willie mused. 'Not
that I'd mind a lass, but if I had my preference
it would definitely be a boy.'
'Why?'


'I've no idea. It would simply be my
preference.'


A boy, she thought. Her son. Their son. 'What
would we call him?' she queried.

Willie considered that. 'How about Willie after
me? The name lan was Mary's choice, that of
her father.'


A little Willie she thought, and laughed
inwardly.

'What do you say?'

'It would be fine, and appropriate.' She was


278


pleased it was dark and Willie couldn't see her
expression. 'And what about a girl?'

'You suggest.'

A girl, she wondered? What would she call a
daughter? 'I don't know,' she said eventually.

'You must have some idea.'

'I've always rather liked Rebecca.'

'Rebecca,' he murmured. Biblical. 'Yes, I
approve of that.'

Willie was in a chatty mood and it was ages
before he finally dropped off leaving Georgina
to do what her body was craving for.

During it she thought of Andrew Drummond.


*


'Can I come in?'

Andrew glanced up and there was his sister
Charlotte who'd popped her head round the
office door. 'Of course. It's lovely to see you.'

'As it's almost coffee time I've taken the
liberty of asking for a cup.'

'Saves me the effort.'

Charlotte perched on the edge of his desk.
'So how are you?'

'In the pink.'

'Hmmh,' she mused.

'You sound unconvinced.'

'That's because I am. There's been something
wrong with you lately. I've no idea what, but
definitely something. It's been worrying me.'

Andrew shook his head. 'There's nothing
wrong, Charlotte, I swear.'

'You've been very edgy, irritable. Snappy


279


almost. John's noticed it as well.'

He knew the reason for that. After such a long
time without he'd got used to having access to
Ellen Temple. Now she was denied him he
damned well was irritable. He hadn't realized
it showed so much.

'Maybe it's just the time of year,' he lied. 'The
changing of season, that sort of thing.'
'Could be.'

He leant back in his chair and ran a
hand through his hair. 'I'm looking forward
to summer. Let's hope it's a good one.'

Charlotte's gaze went to the second desk in
the office, the one that had originally been her
brother Peter's. She could see him sitting there,
and her father Murdo where Andrew now was.
'Do you ever wonder what it would have been
like if the war had never happened?' she asked
softly.

'Occasionally.'

'Father might still be alive. Peter certainly.'
'And I'd no doubt have remained in the army.
Probably off in India or whatever. At least a
Captain by now, possibly even a Major.'

'And very grand you'd be too,' she laughed,
teasing him. 'I can just imagine it.'

'Grand maybe, but not pompous I hope. You
get a lot of that amongst the senior ranks.'

Charlotte suddenly glanced away, her mood
completely changing. 'And I'd still be married to
Geoffrey. He'd never have . . . ' She trailed off,
hanged himself being what she hadn't said. Poor,
demented Geoffrey, unable to live with himself
because he couldn't be a proper man any more.


280


'How different things would have been,' a
sombre Andrew murmured.

At which point their conversation was interrupted
by the arrival of coffee and biscuits.

'Do try and buck up,' Charlotte said as she
was leaving.

'I will, sis.'

He kissed her on the cheek, and then she
was gone.

Andrew returned to his desk, not feeling in the
least like work any more. He thought of Georgina
Seaton, something he'd been doing a great deal
of recently. How tantalising that prospect was.
Tantalising, and forbidden because of Willie.

He had a business trip coming up during
which he'd have to pass relatively close to the
Haven. He could arrange it so that he'd be
there on the Friday coming back which meant
he could spend the weekend with them.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, recalling Georgina in all her naked splendour.

'Christ,' he groaned.

He hadn't approached any other of the female
members of staff at Drummond House due to
the fact, on reflection, that he simply didn't
fancy any of them. There was only one and
she was a mere fourteen. He just couldn't bring
himself to proposition a fourteen year old. He
did have some scruples after all.

Or did he?

He decided he did. But did they still include
Georgina?


*
281


Willie signalled to Bridie who was tending table.
'Can you pour some more wine please.' He
smiled.

lan was feeling acutely uncomfortable with
Bridie and Moira in the same room, the
McLarens having come for dinner. Moira was
seated beside him wearing the most exquisite
dark blue voile dress. It boasted clusters of fine
tucks, hemstitching and narrow ruffles trimming
the 'square collar. The front of the waist was
set off with pretty pearl buttons, harmonising
in shade with the colour of the dress. Moira
looked quite stunning in it.

The evening was agony for Bridie who'd done
everything she could to try and get out of serving
at table. She positively hated Moira for being
so beautiful. While she . . . well, was downright
plain by comparison.

'More wine, Miss McLaren?' she queried on
reaching Moira.

Moira covered her glass with an elegant hand.
'No thank you.'

Bridie, who'd been desperately trying to keep
the daggers out of her eyes, moved to lan.

'You, sir?'

'Please.'

'What do you say, lan?'

lan glanced at his father. 'I'm sorry, I missed
that.'

As Bridie left lan's side her uniform brushed
against him sending a tingle through him. Again
he wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
Would there be a different reaction to that he'd
had when kissing Moira?


282

1

Georgina was bored. She'd thought the
evening would be rather exciting but it was
turning out to the contrary. Probably her mood,

she reflected.

The big news, and Georgina's stomach
contracted at the thought of it, was that
Andrew was coming in a fortnight's time to
stay the weekend. Mind you, that was something
of a mixed blessing. He'd be with them, but
unavailable to her.

Damn! she inwardly swore. Those few nights
were going to be absolute hell. Sleeping with
Willie and Andrew so close. Lifting her glass
she drank almost half its contents at one go.

Rose wasn't thinking of Andrew, but had been
earlier. She thrilled at the prospect of seeing him
again. Perhaps they could go riding, she'd enjoy
that. Especially if it was just the two of them.

Delphine McLaren was pleased to see lan
and Moira getting on so well together. What
a handsome couple they made, she thought
not for the first time. And he such a catch!
Things couldn't have been rosier as far as she
was concerned.

Bridie finished her wine round and replaced
the bottle on an antique silver and cork coaster.
For an insane moment she imagined how
glorious it would be to have an accident and
pour some of the wine over Moira's dress
which she envied dreadfully. Idiot, she berated
herself. She'd probably get the sack for such an
'accident'. Or at least a severe ticking off.


283


Bridie glanced up in surprise as lan entered the
room. She was clearing away after dinner.
'Hello,' he smiled.

She nodded, thinking not for the first time
that night how dashing he looked.

'Moria's lost a pearl button and thinks it
might be in here,' he explained.

She set down the dishes she was holding. Til
help you search for it if you like.'
v 'That's kind of you.'

She felt a blush tinge her cheeks. 'If it fell off
it's probably round where Miss McLaren was
sitting.'

'Probably, if it's here at all.'
Their gaze held for several seconds. Then,
embarrassed, she glanced away.

'I must say Miss McLaren looked awfully
pretty tonight,' she heard herself declaring.
'Yes. I agree.'

For some reason she could have slapped him
for that, wondering why he was staring at her in
such a quizzical fashion. Her blush deepened.
'Is something wrong, Bridie?'
She shook her head. 'Nothing at all, sir.'
'Sir? What happened to Sir lan of Seaton?'
She knew he was teasing her and wished he
wouldn't. It was totally inappropriate in the
circumstances. 'Not indoors, sir.'
'But we're alone, Maid Bridie.'
Those words sent a thrill through her. A
thrill that seemed to tickle her insides. She
tried to reply but maddeningly the words stuck
in her throat. She thought of all the men she'd
known in Glasgow, none of whom even began


284


1


to compare with lan Seaton.

'Let's search then, shall we?' he proposed.

They both crossed to Moira's chair and started
looking, lan going down on his hands and knees
to peer under the table.

'It doesn't appear to be here,' he frowned.

What a lovely bottom, she reflected. All taut
and hard and . . . This time her blush was what
they call in Glasgow a real 'reddie'. She was
beetroot.

'I hope it isn't lost,' lan murmured. 'It might
be difficult to match a replacement.'

'If it's in the house I'm sure we'll find it. It's
bound to turn up in time.'

'No doubt,' lan agreed, scanning the area
around them.

Then Bridie spied the button glinting underneath
the drawn curtains. God alone knew how
it had got there.

She swiftly crossed and picked it up. 'Here
we are,' she stated.

lan beamed at her. 'Clever lass. Moira will
be pleased.'

Bridie didn't give a fig whether Moira
McLaren was pleased or not. But lan was,
and that mattered a great deal.

She went to lan and handed it to him. For a
brief moment their hands touched which Bridie
found quite unnerving.

'I'd better get on,' she stammered. 'Miss
Coltart will be wondering what's keeping me.'

'Just tell her what happened and she'll
understand. I'd hate to get you into trouble.'

His concern touched her.


285


'Thank you, Bridie.'

'It was nothing.'	I

He smiled once more, his eyes fastened on,

her face. 'And don't go walking in the woods'

by yourself again.'

'I won't. I've learned my lesson.'

He would have liked to stay and chat with

her but that was impossible, the company was

waiting. 'Goodbye for now then.'
it 'Goodbye.'


He left the room, shutting the door behind
him.


Bridie briefly closed her eyes, thinking of
Moira McLaren and lan. She had to admit they
made a handsome couple together and seemed
well suited. She could only wish them well.

When she came to pick up the dishes she'd set
down she found her hands to be trembling. I


*


Andrew, who'd already been to bed and then got up again, paced the drawing room with a
large glass of whisky in his hand. There was a
fever in him which had nothing to do with any
illness.


It was cold in the room, the fires having gone
out, but he didn't notice it. All he could think
of was Ellen Temple upstairs.	. 
He swallowed his whisky and crossed to the
sideboard where he poured himself another
hefty one.	I

It was ridiculous, he thought, that he, a grown
man, should be acting like this. It wasn't as


286	1


though he cared for Ellen, he didn't. It was
what she had to offer that was disturbing him.

He wouldn't go to her, he told himself. He
damned well wouldn't. Surely he had more
self-control than that.

Andrew slumped into a chair and ran a hand
over his forehead. If he was honest with himself
it wasn't really Ellen who was bothering him,
but Georgina. She was who he really wanted.
Ellen would only have been a substitute, had
she been available.

A fortnight until he visited the Seatons, and
then what? Would he play Judas? He feared he
would. In fact it was almost inevitable.

He swore, then swore again.

Moments later he was back at the whisky
bottle.


*


'Is it me?' Geraldine Buchanan asked softly.

'Is what you?'

'That's wrong.'

'There's nothing wrong,' Pat replied just a
little too hastily, and unconvincingly.

'Oh yes there is. It's as though you're with
me and not with me at the same time.'

Pat shook his head. 'That's not so.'

She regarded him quizzically. 'Has something
happened? Is that it?'

'Nothing's happened, Geraldine. I swear.'

'Then why the coolness?'

He didn't reply to that.

'Come on, Pat,' she urged.


287


He sighed, deciding it might be best to
unburden himself. Though he was loath to
do so. 'It's Kathleen, she's found out about
us.'


'Ahh!' Geraldine breathed. That explained it.
'How?'


He told her about the scent and smudge of
lipstick.


'Careless of me Geraldine replied. I 'It doesn't really make any difference Pat
went on.


But Geraldine knew it did. 'Is she aware
you're here tonight?'

Pat nodded.	'

Poor bitch, Geraldine thought. 'Will she leave
you?'

Pat barked out a laugh. 'Not a chance. Where
would she go, and how would she keep herself?
People like us don't leave one another. Only
death separates us. Once wed we're bound
together for the rest of our lives. That's just
the way it is.'

There were those whom it didn't bother to
commit adultery, Geraldine reflected, and she
was one of them. She was able to completely
divorce what she did with Pat from her
relationship with Dougal. But clearly it wasn't
the same with Pat.

'So what happens now?' she queried.

'We go on as we have, I suppose. I don't
intend changing anything. No fears.'

Geraldine was curious. 'And what about
Kathleen? Do you love her?'

Pat stared blankly back. 'What the hell has


288

love got to do with it? She's my wife, and
that's that.'

Typical Glasgow male, Geraldine thought.
She'd often wondered what Dougal got up to
when away. Those foreign ports he visited where
women were always available. Did he indulge?
She suspected he did. Nor did she feel jealous
about that.

Geraldine ran a hand through the forest
covering Pat's chest. How she adored hairy
men, the hairier the better. And Pat was hairy.
She didn't want to lose him. He was perfect for
her when Dougal was away.

'Why don't you pour us both a drink,'
Geraldine suggested. She needed one. That
had been quite a session. Pat might be disturbed
about his wife knowing but it hadn't physically
affected his performance in any way.

Pat handed her a glass then studied her from
beneath thick bushy eyebrows. 'You're class so
you are, Geraldine. Real class.'

She smiled. 'Thank you.'

'I never thought I'd ever get to go with a
woman like you. You're sheer bloody magic.'

'Am I indeed?'

'Oh aye. A real lady.'

'Hardly that, Pat. But I appreciate the
compliment.' And she did. She found it
touching.

'You're not to worry about this, Geraldine. If
I have been . . . well, not quite myself it'll soon
pass. I promise you.'


*
289


Scan strolled out of The Thirty Shilling Tailor
wearing the new suit he'd had made and which
he was extremely pleased with. Wasn't he the
dandy;, he thought with great satisfaction.

Now what to do with the rest of the day?
There wasn't any Samurai business to attend
to. The boozer of course. A few pints and a
natter with whoever might be there.

What a lark this was. No more Barry's Iron
fe Foundry, but him swanning about as if he was
Lord Muck.

Another three pubs were paying them protection
since The Sheugh, and more would follow. The
story of Mather's wee lassie had got round which
had put the fear of God into the other publicans.
Not to mention shopkeepers and the like.

Who knew where this might lead?

*


'Rose, how are you?' Andrew smiled. 'It's lovely
seeing you again.'


Not as much as seeing you, she thought. Tm
fine, Andrew. And yourself?'

'Enjoying life, Rose. Enjoying life.'
Now what did that mean? Had he found
someone? Jealousy stabbed through her to think
he had. Jealousy and extreme disappointment.

Andrew was nervous and had almost decided
not to come at the last minute. He'd actually
parked the Rolls far down the drive, wondering
whether or not to go on. But in the end lust,
for it was no more than that, had got the better
of him.


290

'You've lost weight,' Rose commented.

'Have I?'

'I think you have.'

She had too, he observed. What had once been
a plump pigeon was turning into a right cracker.
Her bust was fuller too, he noted. Or was that
merely his imagination? He didn't think it was.

'How was your journey?' she queried.

'Nothing untoward.'

'I thought we might go riding later. Or
perhaps tomorrow?' She'd been determined to
get that suggestion in as soon as possible.

'Tomorrow sounds fine. I'd like that.'

Her eyes sparkled. 'Then it's agreed.'

'It's agreed,' he laughed.


*



'Well, if you'll excuse me I think I'll have an
early night,' lan Seaton declared, stifling a yawn
that he'd faked. Truth was, he just didn't
like Andrew Drummond's company. There was
something about the man, something he couldn't
put his finger on, that disturbed him.

'Goodnight then, son,' Willie said.

lan rose, went to Georgina and pecked her on
the cheek. 'Toodooloo!' he called out as he left
the room.

Andrew had been trying to have a private
word with Georgina since his arrival, and so
far had failed. There had always been someone
else around.

Willie glanced at the clock, then got up. 'I
have to make a phone call. Shan't be long.'


291


And with that he also left the room.

Andrew focused on Rose. If only she too
would go. 'What time shall we start out
tomorrow?' he asked her.

'I thought directly after breakfast.'

'That's fine by me.'

'What's all this?' Georgina queried.

'We're going riding,' Andrew informed her.

Rose held her breath, hoping her stepmother
wouldn't ask to come. But Georgina didn't
really like riding and was unlikely to want to
accompany them.

Andrew saw off what remained in his glass,
having already noted the decanter was empty.

'Would you care for another?' Georgina
inquired.

'Please.'	

'Would you do the honours, Rose dear.' j
Rose went to the decanter to discover it empty. 'I'd better ring for more,' she said.

Damn! Andrew inwardly swore.


*


Andrew began undressing. He'd begun to think
he'd never get Georgina alone and then suddenly
the opportunity had presented itself. A surprised
Georgina had quickly agreed to visit him later.
All he had to do now was wait.


*


Georgina was in a lather of excitement and
desperately trying not to show it. Andrew wanted


292


her, she could hardly believe it. She couldn't
imagine what had made him change his mind.
Not that she really cared. All that mattered was
he had.

She joined Willie in their bedroom carrying
two balloons of brandy. 'I thought we might
have a nightcap.' She smiled.

He stared at her in amazement. This was most
unlike Georgina. 'A nightcap?'

'I just felt like one. I hope you'll join me.'

Willie shook his head. 'I've had a bit of
indigestion come on. I'd better not. But you
go ahead.'

Her excitement evaporated. She hadn't banked
on this. 'How about if I send down for some hot
milk. Would that help?'

'I don't think so,' Willie replied, rubbing his
stomach. A gleam came into his eyes. 'But I
know what might.'

Georgina felt like screaming. Not tonight of
all nights! Oh please God, no.

'I must say, you're looking particularly
attractive, and seductive. Not that you don't
normally, but even more so at the moment.'

Geraldine had a large swallow from the
balloon without the drops in it. She could
cheerfully have murdered Willie.

'Come on, join me,' she urged. 'Brandy is
good for the stomach.'

He again shook his head. 'Not tonight. I'll give
it a miss if you don't mind. Now why don't you
come over here.'


*
293


How long was she going to be, a drowsy Andrew
wondered? It was getting so late he was rapidly
going off the idea. A good dinner plus lashings
of wine and whisky were taking their toll. He
felt his eyes drooping.



*


At long last Willie was asleep. But what use
was that without the drops inside him? It was
just too risky, just too damned risky to go to
Andrew under the circumstances.

As usual she'd been left high and dry, her
body aching for release. And Andrew who could
more than effect that release was only a few
doors down the corridor.

She'd take the chance, she decided. To hell
with it. As gently as she could she started to
pull back her side of the covers.

'Georgina, darling, cuddle me.'

There it was. That was it. She was stuck for
the night.

'Of course, Willie.'

'Aahh!' he sighed as her arms encircled him.


17

294

'Race you,' Rose challenged.

'You're on!'

Rose quickly kicked her horse into a gallop
and sped off with Andrew hotly in pursuit.

She laughed, thoroughly enjoying this. That
and the fact that for once she had Andrew to
herself. She urged Trixie to go even faster.

Rose could certainly ride a horse, Andrew
thought in admiration. Again he was reminded
that she sat a horse just like Alice had done.

They raced for all of five minutes before
Rose reined in, unaware that Andrew had let
her win.

'There!' she gasped as he came up beside
her.

Andrew took in her blazing eyes and flushed
cheeks, thinking how gorgeous she looked.
Delicious in the extreme.

'Well done,' he congratulated her.

'Thank you, kind sir.' Rose slid to the ground.
'I think we'd better walk them for a bit. Don't
you agree?'

He also slid down. 'Quite.'

They began walking the steaming horses, both
of them on the inside. 'I'm so pleased you've
come to visit,' she declared.

'Oh?'

'Don't be coy with me, Andrew Drummond.
It doesn't suit you.'


295


'Well, I'm pleased to be here.'
'Pity it's only for the weekend.'  He shrugged. 'That's all I can manage, I'm
afraid.'


'The trouble with weekends, those you enjoy
anyway, is that they tend to fly by. At least that's
my experience.'

'Mine too.'


Rose clapped Trixie on the neck, Trixie
whinnying in response.

'I did a lot of riding in Ireland,' Andrew said
slowly.
'Really?'


'The Irish are mad on horses. And damned
fine breeders to boot. But you probably already
know that.'

She glanced sideways at him, wishing he'd
stop and take her in his arms. She shivered at
the thought.

'Something wrong?'

'No.'

'Certain?'

'Absolutely, Andrew.'

They walked on a few paces. 'I dreamed of
you last night,' she suddenly stated.

That surprised him. 'I'm flattered.' He'd
done a bit of dreaming himself, but it hadn't
involved Rose.

'It was ever so lovely.'

He wasn't quite sure what to reply to that.

'Don't you want to know what happened?'

'In your dream?'

'Of course, silly.'

'Then what happened?'


296

A strange look came over her face. 'I couldn't
really tell you. I'd be too embarrassed.'

'Now who's being coy?'

She laughed. 'I suppose I deserved that.'

'So what did happen?'

'I said I can't tell you.'

'But it was lovely,' he repeated drily.

'Very much so.'

'If you're not going to tell me then why bring
it up in the first place?'

'Because I wanted you to know.'

'You're a teasing minx, Rose Seaton.'

She laughed again. 'Perhaps I am.'

'Who should have her bottom spanked.'

She came to an abrupt halt and stared at him.
'What an awful thing to say.'

'Well, it's true.'

She turned away. 'Perhaps I wouldn't mind
that. If it was you doing the spanking.'

He wagged an admonishing finger at her.
'Rose, you should be ashamed of yourself.'

'I've heard that some people do it all the time.
To each other that is. It gives them pleasure.'

'And where did you hear such a thing?'

She shrugged. 'I can't remember.'

'Fibber.'

'I am not!' she replied hotly.

'Oh yes you are.' His gaze dropped to her
rear, thinking . . . He hastily put that thought
from his mind.

'Fiona Bell,' Rose declared.

'And who's Fiona Bell?'

'A friend. She also told me all sorts of other
interesting things.'


297


'Like what?'

Rose didn't reply for a few moments, 'About
the birds and the bees I suppose.'

Andrew couldn't help smiling. 'I see.'

'I tried to get Georgina to explain to me some
years ago but she wouldn't. And of course I
couldn't ask Father. He'd probably expire on
the spot if I did.'

'But come on, Rose, you're a country lass.
You must have seen animals.'

'Oh yes. But that's just basics. I wished to
know . . . well, more than that.'

'Very enterprising of you,' Andrew commented
drolly.

'Well, it is difficult. You must agree. I
mean . . . well, there's the wedding night to
consider. I want to be aware of what I should
be doing.'


'Maybe you should leave that up to the
chap?'


'And what if he knows nothing either? That
would be awful. And quite unsatisfactory I
should imagine.'

Andrew had a sudden thought. 'And was that
what you were dreaming about last night?'

Rose went scarlet.

'Well?'

'Sort of,' she mumbled.

'You and me that is.'

Oh Christ, she thought. Her and her big
mouth. Why hadn't she kept it shut. This
must sound dreadful. 'You know I like you,'
she said.

'And I like you.'


298


She took a deep breath. 'More than like,
Andrew. Or like in a different way if you

prefer.'

'Were we in bed together?' He was teasing

her now.

'In a way.'

'What do you mean in a way? We either were
or weren't.'

She turned to him, but wouldn't look him in the eyes. She was still bright red. 'You think I'm
too young for you, don't you?'

'Yes.' That came out baldly, matter of factly.

'Well I'm not, Andrew Drummond. And it's
high time you married. I've heard Pa say so on
a number of occasions.'

'Have you indeed.'

'He worries about you.'

Andrew glanced up at the sky, a picture
of Alice in his mind. 'I worry about myself
sometimes. As for marriage, I've nothing against
that where I'm concerned. In due course, I
imagine, when the right woman conies along.'

'Which I'm not?' she queried in a small
voice.

'Most decidedly not. You're the daughter of
my friend, for God's sake.'

'So?'

'The age difference, Rose. Remember that.'

'I have thought about it, and it doesn't matter.
You're not exactly decrepit, Andrew. And a lot
younger than Pa. He may be your friend but I
fail to see how that matters. If anything it's a
bonus.'

'How do you make that out?'


299


'Wouldn't it be nice to marry the daughter of
a friend? No remarks now, but it's almost like
keeping it in the family.'

Good grief, the girl was actually proposing.
Or suggesting he do. That stunned him. 'I
think we'd better terminate this conversation,'
he said.
'Why?'


'Because . . . it's inappropriate, that's why.' '18 there someone else, Andrew?'
He shook his head. 'No.'
'I wasn't quite sure. There have been
occasions when it seems to me there might
have been.'

'Well, there isn't, I assure you.'
Forward? She didn't give a damn any more.
This was far too important. 'Kiss me, Andrew.'
He stared blankly at her. 'I beg your pardon?'
'You heard. Kiss me.'
'I, eh ... This isn't a party now, Rose.'
'I'm well aware of the fact.'
He studied her grimly. 'You really are the
most precocious child.'

'I am not a child!' she retorted. Tm a grownup
woman. Now kiss me, damnit.'
What else could he do? 'All right.'
She moved into his embrace. 'And kiss me
properly.'


'You mean passionately?' he teased.
'Precisely.'

When it was over her eyes remained closed.

'Rose?'

'Now do it again.'

He laughed. 'You are a glutton for punishment.'


300


'There was no punishment about that,' she
sighed. 'None whatsoever. Now do it again.'


*


Georgina stood at her bedroom window watching
Andrew and Rose cantering back from their ride
out. She was still furious about the previous
night, and deeply frustrated. There was only
one night remaining during which she could
get to Andrew's room. Somehow she had to,
she simply had to.

What had made things worse was Willie
wanting to make love to her. Of all nights
for him to pick it had to be that one. What
an acting performance it had been on her part.
If awards were given for such things she would
certainly have been honoured.

She sighed and moved away from the window,
not wishing Andrew to see her.

How to get some of those drops down Willie's
throat that evening? How!

And then she had another idea. One that sent
prickles up her spine.


*


Andrew had bathed after his ride and was
dressing when his bedroom door opened
and Georgina entered. He stared at her in
amazement.

'What is this?' he demanded. 'Are you out of
your mind?'

She went straight to him. 'Maybe I am.'


301



'The servants, anyone could have seen you.'

'That was a risk I was prepared to take.'

'Well, I'm not,' he exploded. 'You'll have to
leave at once.'

'No please, please. Don't send me away just
yet.'

'Where's Willie?'

'Busy with estate business. He'll be tied up
for quite a while. Hours probably.'

''Andrew glanced at the door, nervous as could
be. He certainly hadn't bargained for this.

Georgina wrapped herself around him. 'I'm
sorry about last night, truly I am.' She went
on to explain what had happened.

There was a wildness about her, Andrew
observed. That and an abandonment which he
found very erotic.

'I must have you, Andrew, I must,' she
breathed huskily. 'You've no idea what I've
been going through.'

He liked the idea that she was begging, that
too was erotic. Despite himself he found he was
becoming aroused.

He suddenly pushed her away. 'Not now, not
like this, Georgina. It's out of the question.'

'Willie's away from the house, Andrew. He
won't find out.'

Christ but she was tempting. A ripe peach
just waiting to be devoured. His hand went
to a breast which he gently squeezed. Georgina
moaned in appreciation.

What a to-do, he thought. First the daughter
proposing to him, and now the stepmother
begging him to have her. His ego swelled.


302

'But the servants, some might come in,' he
protested.

'They won't. Your room has been done while
you were out riding, there won't be anyone till
early evening when it's time to light your fire.
We're quite safe.'

He was still in two minds about this. But he
had to admit, it was exciting. 'We'd have to be
quick,' he said.

She groaned. 'Not that, Andrew. That's the
last thing I want.'

He swore inwardly, thinking it lucky the door
had a lock on it. 'Wait here,' he said.

Georgina hurriedly began to strip.


*


Jesus, he thought later, Georgina asleep and
cradled in his arms. That had been unbelievable.
There had been nothing tender and loving about
it, quite the contrary.

Georgina's eyes flickered open. 'Thank you,
my love,' she whispered.

Her body was at peace, completely satiated.
That had been even better than their first time
together. She stretched languorously, every fibre
of her being relaxed.

'Georgina, I don't wish to seem ungentlemanly,
but you really must go. Willie ... ' He
trailed off.

She marvelled again at what she'd been
missing in life. There was simply no comparison
between Andrew and Willie. Any comparison
would have been a joke.


303


'I'll try and come again tonight she
whispered.	,


He wanted her to, that was the trouble, where
common sense told him he should forbid it.
They'd already taken a big enough risk as
it was.


'If you do you must be very careful he
warned.

'I will be. I swear.'

llf we get caught out there'll be all hell let
loose. Not to mention the end of your marriage
I should think.'

For the moment Georgina didn't care about
any of that. All she could think of was Andrew
and what it was like being with him. If only he
was her husband instead of Willie. Oh3 but that
would be Heaven on earth.	

'Now come on, you'd better leave,' he
declared, disentangling himself and swinging
out of bed.

Her expression was as though she was about
to purr. 'Do I really have to?'

'You know you do.'

She sighed. 'I suppose you're right.'

'I am. Tempus fugit.'	

Georgina sighed again. The last thing she
wanted to do was get up. She could have stayed
in his bed for ever. 'Andrew?'

'What?'

'Come here.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Why?'

'I want to touch you while you're still naked.'

She squirmed on to an elbow exposing her
breasts, breasts still flushed from their recent


304

activities. Her eyes had narrowed almost to slits.

Andrew, against his better judgement, went to
her and sat alongside. 'This won't do, Georgina.
Not at all.'

She ran a hand over his groin, thinking,
remembering, what pleasure that had given
her. Exquisite pleasure. 'You're a lovely man,
Andrew Drummond. I wish I'd met you years

ago.'

'Do you?'

'Oh yes,' she crooned.

For someone who'd only slept with two
men in her life she'd certainly learned quickly,
Andrew reflected. Not only quickly but had been
the most eager of pupils. If there had been time
. . . But there wasn't.

'Kiss me,' she said.

He couldn't help but smile. That was the
second time today a woman had asked . . . no,
demanded, he kiss her. It really was extremely
flattering.

He bent and pecked her on the lips. 'There.'

'A proper kiss, Andrew,' she pouted.

But he knew himself only too well and what
it would lead to. 'No,' he said, rising again.
'That'll have to wait.'

Georgina shivered in anticipation.


*


'What's wrong with you two?' Sean queried, as
he and the rest of the family were having tea.

Kathleen glanced at him. 'I don't know what
you mean, son.'


305


'Oh aye you do, Ma. The atmosphere in this
house has been awful for ages. I'm getting sick
of it.'

Pat kept his head down and got on with
his meal.

'Well, Ma?'

Kathleen was tempted to land Pat in it, well
aware of how scared he now was of Scan.
'You're imagining things.'

Alison laid down her knife and fork. 'I don't
want any more. I don't like it.'

'Eat up,' Pat growled. 'Food's hard enough
to come by as it is without wasting any.'

'What your da says is true,' Kathleen agreed.
'It's a struggle to make ends meet.' She thought
of the extra money Scan was giving her and
which Pat knew nothing about. That had been,
and was, a right Godsend. Even so, it went
against the grain to waste food.

'I still don't like it,' Alison complained, a hint
of tears coming into her eyes.

'It's great scoff,' Scan declared. Picking up
his little sister's plate and giving her a wink,
he forked what remained of her meal on to his
own plate. 'There, problem solved.'

'You spoil that lassie so you do,' Kathleen
said disapprovingly.

'Aye well, what of it?'

Alison beamed at Scan who gave. her a
second wink.

Pat hated it now when Scan was home,
although it was rare enough, mainly confined
to mealtimes.

'Are you out tonight?' Kathleen asked Scan.


306

'It's Saturday isn't it. Of course I'm out. Me
and the lads are going for a bevvy.'

Kathleen thought of the Samurai. 'You just
take care, that's all. You know Glasgow on a
Saturday night.'

Scan grinned wolfishly at her. 'No need to
worry about me, Ma. I'll be safe as houses, and
that's a promise.'

Pat belched. 'That was terrific,' he declared.

Kathleen thought of how he'd come home
smelling of that woman again the previous
night. No scent this time, just female smell.
Lying there in bed with him snoring his head
off it had disgusted her.

'So what about this atmosphere of late?' Scan
persisted.

'There isn't any,' Pat replied quietly. 'It's your
imagination, Scan.'

'Like hell it is.'

Pat cringed inside.

'So?'

Kathleen couldn't resist it. 'Ask your da.'

'Da?'

Pat picked up his cup of tea and had a
swallow before replying. Scan was his mother's
boy, always had been. If he found out about
... It didn't bear thinking about.

'Your ma and I have had a few problems,
that's all.'

'What kind of problems?'

Answer that, Kathleen thought.

'Och you know, the sort all married couples
have.'

'Oh aye?'


307


Pat took a deep breath. 'I understand your
concern, Scan, but this is strictly between your
mother and myself.'

'Not when I've got to come home and put
up with it, it isn't.'

'Can I be excused please?' Alison asked.

'Of course, pet,' Kathleen replied.

Alison got down from her chair. 'And can I
go out to play?'

'On you go,' Kathleen said. 'Just make sure
you put your coat on.'

Alison skipped from the room.

'What's wrong?' Scan demanded belligerently
of Pat when Alison had gone.

'I told you.'

'Aye, but what sort of problems?'

Kathleen was enjoying seeing Pat squirm. It
was a little bit of revenge.

'It's personal, Sean.'

'Is it indeed, Da. I just hope it isn't causing
Ma any unhappiness that's all.'

Kathleen decided to let Pat off the hook. If the
truth came out there would be another barney
which she didn't want. 'We'll sort it, Sean. Now
leave it alone, there's a good lad.'

He nodded. 'All right, Ma. Whatever you
say.'

Pat heaved an inward sigh of relief. Thank
God and all his angels for that. He rose. Til
get on with my paper. Haven't read the half of
it yet.'

Sean stared at his mother, unconvinced by all
this. If that old swine was giving her grief he
swore he'd give Pat a right seeing to. One his


308

father wouldn't forget in a hurry.

'If you're going out you'd better get changed,'

Kathleen smiled to Sean.

'I'll be in late. You know what it's like.'
Pat immersed himself in his newspaper.


*


Pat glanced up from his paper as the outside
door snicked shut behind Sean. He'd been
worried there for a few minutes. That could
easily have become nasty.

Kathleen was piling dishes up at the sink,
preparing to wash and dry them. She didn't
expect any help from Pat, for a Glasgow man
that would have been unthinkable. Nor would
she have welcomed his offering -- he had his
job, she hers.

Pat's gaze slowly traversed the room. How
cosy it was, he reflected. And welcoming like.
A real home and no mistake.

He thought of Geraldine's house. That was
different somehow. He couldn't put his finger
on why, it just was. Mind you, it wasn't his
home, but there were some places you felt more
relaxed in than others.

It was all rather showy there, he further
thought, frowning. Not that he didn't like it, he
did. And Geraldine was tremendous company,
not to mention a damned good hostess, provider
of beer and whisky. There was always plenty
of that.

He wondered what it would be like living
with Geraldine. It was fine and dandy making


309


his Friday night visits, especially what they got
up to during them. But could he actually live
with her? The day-to-day thing, rubbing along
together through thick and thin.

Kathleen began to hum, an old Scottish
ballad that was one of her favourites, which
made Pat smile. How often had he heard her
quietly sing the same ballad? Times without
number. He found it a comforting sound, the
familiarity of it.

'Would you like another cup of tea?' Kathleen
asked over her shoulder.

'No thanks. I've had enough.'
'Suit yourself.'

'But don't let that stop you.'
'It won't, Pat.'

He recalled their courting days. Nothing
spectacular, more or less the same as everyone f
else round there, he imagined. The usual initial
shyness, he trying to be the big man, she laughing
up her sleeve at him. But still continuing to go
out with him nonetheless.

They'd been through a lot together, he mused.
Well, you didn't bring up three children and not
have problems. Bad times, good times, and he
had to admit, earlier on anyway before it had
all begun to grind them down a bit, a lot of
laughs.

He recalled her getting drunk one night, What
a to-do that had been. He helping her stagger
home, she apologising profusely with every
wobbly step. The hangover in the morning
when she'd sworn she'd never touch another
drop ever again was something to behold.


310

And then there was the wedding night. He'd
never forget that, it being the first time he'd ever
seen a naked woman. There had been experiences
before Kathleen mind, oh aye, but nothing really
of any consequence. A few rumblings here, a few
gropings there. Certainly not the whole hog.

Talk about a blushing bride, Kathleen had
been that right enough It had taken him ages,
not that she hadn't been willing enough, to calm
her down before he could do anything.

Had it been good? Well, all right, he supposed.
But then what did you expect in that situation?
He remembered cuddling up to her holding her,
listening to her sleep.

Pat sighed. He was enjoying being in that
night, now that Scan had gone, that was.
There was a great contentment about it. A
rare experience for him of recent years when
all he'd really wanted to do was put on his
jacket, cap, and go to the pub but couldn't
because there wasn't enough money to do so.

He closed his eyes, thinking of him and
Geraldine the night before. Wonderful in its
own way, and yet. . . There had been something
missing. An ordinary something that he both
missed and enjoyed.

Kathleen continued to hum, wondering about
Bridie and how she was getting on. There hadn't
been a letter for a couple of weeks now, but then
Bridie, as herself, wasn't much of a letter writer.
No doubt there would be one shortly.

Pat yawned. The meal had been a good one
even if wee Alison hadn't like it. He felt full
and satisfied.


311


I might have that cup of tea after all,' he
declared.

Kathleen turned to look at him. 'Oh?'

'Aye, if you don't mind.'

She shrugged. 'It's no bother.'

When she eventually came to him with his
cup of tea he'd dozed off.


*

i.

t


Having been keen to get to The Haven, Andrew
was now eager to get away. His conscience was
bothering him far more than he'd thought it
would. And still there was later to contend with
when Georgina might visit him again.

He wanted her to, and at the same time
didn't. Why did life always seem to end up
so bloody complicated!

'Another ride tomorrow?' Rose asked across
the dinner table.

'Why not.'

She flushed slightly, delighted at having got
him to agree.

Georgina was smiling at Willie, having devised
what she considered to be a sure-fire plan for
him to take the drops.

Her stomach knotted at the thought of a
second session with Andrew.


1


312


'18


Mo Binchy was drunk, which was hardly
surprising considering the amount of alcohol
he'd consumed. There were four of them out
for a bevvy together.

'It's your round, china,' Sean said to Bobby
O'Toole, swallowing the remains of his pint.

'Aye, fair enough.' Bobby turned his attention
to the bar, waiting to catch the eye of a barman.
Being a Saturday night the pub was full to
bursting and doing a roaring trade.

'I've been meaning to ask you something,' Mo
slurred to Sean.

'What's that?'

'This hint you've been seeing, Muriel. And a
lovely lassie she is too. You've taken her back to
'the place' often enough, but how come you've
never had her in one of the bedrooms?'

Noddy Gallagher laughed. 'That's true enough.
How come, Sean?'

Sean, who was far from sober himself, focused
on his companions. 'How do you know I haven't
when we've happened to be on our own?'

Mo tapped his nose. 'I can tell.'

'Can you now.'

'Oh aye. Without any disrespect, Sean, I think
she'd be a right goer. You should be in there
getting your end away.'

Sean didn't like this topic of conversation at
all. Why hadn't he taken her into one of the


313



bedrooms? The truth was, though he'd never
have admitted it to the others in a millipn years,
he was scared to do so.

'More haufs?' Bobby O'Toole asked over his
shoulder. Haufs were whisky.

'Too right,' Jim Gallagher replied, and
hiccuped.

Scan was suddenly angry, thinking it a right
liberty for Mo to have put him in this position.
He tried to act in what he considered to be a
nonchalant manner. He could cheerfully have
punched Mo.

'That one I had in a bedroom last week was
something else,' Noddy declared. 'Talk about
squeal, you'd have thought I was slaughtering
a pig.'	

The others laughed, but not Sean.	;

'You should have seen the tits on her,'
Noddy continued. 'Big as bloody melons they
were.'	.

Sean wished they'd change the conversation. ;i

'That big?' Bobby queried, again over his
shoulder.

'Massive. I stuck my face in them and
slobbered like a baby.'

'When are you seeing Muriel again?' Jim
asked Sean.

'Wednesday night. We're going to the flicks.'

'Why not give her a treat and take her to 'the
place' instead?'

'I might just do that,' Sean replied in an
offhand manner.

'Would you like some FLs?' Mo offered,
reaching for his wallet.


314

'No thanks, I've got my own,' Sean replied
in a steely voice.

'Here you are, Sean,' said Bobby, handing
him a hauf and a pint.

'Thanks, pal.'

Sean was seething inside. Mo and his big
mouth, he could have seen them both far
enough. Now he was committed, providing
Muriel agreed that was. There again, she might
not which would suit him just as well.

He didn't know why he should be so scared
of doing what should come naturally after all.
There was no reason for him to feel that way.
He was perfectly capable.

Right then, he decided. He'd take Muriel to
'the place' and when there give her a right
seeing to.

By God and he would.


*


'Hello, Maid Bridie, your day off again?'

She'd seen him approaching and wondered
if he'd talk to her. Her heart was thudding.
'Yes, sir.'

'Oh, what's happened to Sir lan of Seaton?'

She shrugged.

'Bad mood, eh?'

'Something like that.'

His expression became one of concern.
'Everything going all right in the house?
Nobody's giving you aggravation, are they?'

She couldn't help but smile. 'No, nothing
like that.'


315


Bridie thought of the sleepless nights she'd
had since falling so hopelessly in love with lan
Seaton. Nights during which her imagination
had often run riot. If only he'd been working
class like herself instead of who he was. But that
could never be. Wealthy and landed gentry he'd
been born and that was how he'd stay. The gulf
between them was insurmountable.

'Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?'
t That surprised her. 'Not at all.'

He joined her on the bench. 'So what have
you been doing today?'
'Nothing much really.'
He raised an eyebrow. 'No more forays into
the countryside?'

She knew he was teasing her. 'I didn't want
to get lost again. That last time quite frightened
me. Who knows what might have happened if
you hadn't come along.'

'Who knows indeed,' he mused. 'When we'd
eventually found you you'd probably have been
stiff as a stone statue.'

What a frightening thought. Scary. To end up
like that. She shivered.


'I'm sorry he apologised. 'Has that upset
you?'

'A little,' she admitted.

'I'm sorry again.'

There was a few seconds' silence between

f

them, then he said, 'I'm going out after foxes
tonight. We've been having chickens taken
recently due to the blighters.' His face darkened.
'I hate foxes. Destructive beasts.'
'Are there many round here?'


316


'Oh, quite a few. We try to keep them down
as much as possible.'

Bridie wasn't certain about that. Foxes had
always seemed rather adorable animals to her.

lan laughed when she told him that. 'You're
a town person, Bridie, not familiar with the ways
of the country. Adorable looking or not, foxes
are vermin and should be treated as such.'

'I suppose I am a town person,' she said. 'And
I'm not learning much about the countryside
either. Even though I've been here quite some
time now.'

'Well, you hardly get much of a chance to
do so.'

'No,' she agreed.

He had a sudden thought. A rather inspirational
one at that. 'Would you like to come out with
me tonight? After the foxes I mean.'

'Tonight?'

'That's right. I shall leave about ten.' He
glanced up at the sky. 'It promises to be blowy
later which should be ideal.'

'And why's that?'

'Foxes have acute hearing. Try to get close to
them when the weather is still and you haven't
a chance. But when it's windy they don't hear
nearly as well which gives you a chance.'

Bridie found that rather fascinating.

'Well?'

'I don't know,' she replied slowly. 'I mean,
how would I get away?'

'Your time's your own today. Who's to say
where you go or get up to?'

Be with lan alone, just the two of them as they


317



were now. 'How long would we be out for?' shi
asked.

'A couple of hours.'	i
Oh, but she'd love that. Not the shooting o:

foxes, but to be with lan.	
What she didn't know was that he was

thinking the same thing about her. He was

also excited at the prospect.

*


*


'Bridie?'

She emerged from the shadows. 'It's me.' i
He laughed softly. 'Any trouble sneakin

out?'

'None at all.'
'Good.'


He felt different somehow when he was win
her. A good feeling, the sort of feeling he migh
have been searching for all his life. In a way
scared him.

'Have you wrapped up well?'
'Just as you said.'
'It'll be cold out there.'
Til be fine. Master lan. I promise you.'
He hesitated for a second. 'Why don't yo
just call me lan. For now anyway.'
'All right she whispered, thrilled.
'Then let's go.'	. lan
glanced up at the sky. As he'd predicted
there was a wind blowing, but there were also
the elements of a storm brewing. He wondered
whether or not to go on.
'What's wrong?'


318

He explained to her.

'Oh.'

He could hear the disappointment in her voice
and decided they would continue.
'It's so dark,' she breathed.
'There's a moon above.'
'It's still dark.'
He chuckled. 'Townie.'
'I can't help that.'
'No,' he agreed. 'You can't.'
They proceeded over the fields, she at his


side.
There was a sharp crack of thunder which

brought lan up short. 'Hell!' he swore.

'lan?'

He took a deep breath. 'It's all right, Bridie.'

'Are you sure?' Any moment now she expected
some horrible monster to come out of nowhere
and attack them. Talk about spooky! Give her
a town any day to this.

Thunder cracked again, followed by a brief
flash of lightning. lan knew he should abandon
this, but didn't want to lose Bridie's companionship.
He produced a squeaker and blew into it.

'What's that for?' she whispered.

'I'm trying to call up a fox.'

He blew into the squeaker again.

What an odd sound, she thought. If she'd
been asked to describe it she wouldn't have
been able to.

There was an answering bark from what
seemed a long way off. lan blew on the squeaker


again.
Another lance of lightning followed by a


319


othunder clap. And then it began to rain. 'Damn,'
he muttered.	I 'lan?' I
'What?'

'I want to go back.'

He immediately broke his gun. It was ovei
anyway. There wouldn't be any foxes that night.
Not with this weather. 'All right.'

I
The moon had vanished, obscured by cloud.
V And the rain was rapidly increasing in intensity.
Moments later it was hammering down.

Bridie thought of how far they'd come., she
was going to be soaked through before she got
back to The Haven. Even though she was with
lan she wasn't best pleased.

'I didn't think it would rain,' he apologised.
'Honestly I didn't.'

'Well, it is,' she replied almost tartly.
Suddenly the heavens were alight with
lightning, flash after flash banging and booming.
Bridie wished with all her heart she was in bed
with the covers pulled over her head.

'There's a wee hut not far from here,' lan
said. 'We'll take shelter there and hope this
passes over.'
'A hut?'

'Rather small I'm afraid. And full of stores.
But at least it'll get us out of the rain.'
'You lead then.'

He considered taking her hand, then decided
against it. He didn't want her getting the wrong
idea. 'Come on then.'

It took them about ten minutes to reach the
hut, stumbling through the terrible rain while


320

verhead the lightning continued to flash and
the thunder crashed.

'Christ!' lan swore when they were finally
inside. 'If I'd realised it was going to be like
this I'd never have come out myself, far less
brought you.'

Bridie was trying to catch her breath. 'That
was awful.'

Tm sorry, truly I am.'

'Not your fault, lan. You weren't to know.'

'Oh, but I should have done. I should have
read the signs better.' He propped his gun
against a wall and wondered how long the
storm would take to abate, if indeed it would
before morning.

'You know what I'd love,' Bridie said.

'What?'

'A cup of tea.'

He laughed. He'd have preferred a whisky
himself. Tm afraid I can't do that for you.'

Bridie was thinking of Glasgow and how
different this all was. In a perverse way she
was enjoying it.

'What now?' she asked.

'Wait, I suppose. And if it doesn't let up too
bad on us.'

Bridie moved, and hit some sacks, almost
falling over. There was a smell in the hut she
couldn't place, but a nice one. For some reason
it reminded her of Christmas.

Bridie suddenly giggled. 'Jeannie Swanson
must be wondering where I am. She probably
thinks I'm out with a secret . . . ' Bridie broke
off in confusion.


321



ii

'A secret what?'

'I can't say, lan,' she mumbled. ,
'Of course you can.' It was so dark in the hut
he could only make out the merest hint of an
outline.

'Lover,' she whispered.

The effect of that statement on lan was
electrifying. 'Lover?' he repeated.

She didn't reply.
V 'Bridie?'
'Yes?'
'Nothing.'

He cursed himself for being so cowardly. She
was only a servant after all. No one to be afraid
of. So why should he be afraid?

Because he didn't see her as a servant. He
was in love with her, as a woman, that's why.
Her station in life had nothing to do with it.
'Tell me about Glasgow,' he requested.
That surprised her. 'Glasgow?'
'Your life there before coming here.'
'What about my life there?'
'I don't know. All of it. Your home for
example.'

Bridie had to smile. 'Well, if you can imagine
something as different to The Haven as can be
then that's it.'
'Was it a slum?'

Bridie was immediately indignant.. 'I can't
deny we live in a poor part of the city but our
house is absolutely immaculate. My ma would
be furious if she heard you suggest otherwise.'
He chuckled at her indignation. 'I wasn't
meaning to offend, Bridie, that's the last thing


322

I intended. I was referring to the area you come
from. Not your home conditions.'

She relaxed a little. 'Well we don't live in a
posh part I have to admit. We're working folk,
through and through. But my ma takes great
pride in our house. Works her fingers to the
bone to keep it neat and tidy so she does.'

'I believe you,' he said softly.

'And Da's a hard grafter. A coalman by trade.
Out in all weathers.'

lan smiled to himself. 'Sounds a bit like me
and many others on the estate. We're also out in
all weathers. So we have something in common
there.'

Bridie hadn't thought of it like that. 'I suppose
you do.'

'I don't exactly lead a life of indolence you
know. But then you must appreciate that.'

'It's not quite the same, lan. You're rich with
a house that . . . well it's a palace. You don't
want for anything whereas we . . . ' She trailed
off for a moment. 'It was a real problem when
I lost my job at the lemonade factory. Not only
because my wages weren't coming in any more
but the fact that other work was so hard to
come by.'

'I understand, Bridie.'

'Do you?' she queried, almost accusingly.

'Oh yes. I might have been born into a
well-to-do family but that doesn't mean I'm
not aware of what it's like for less fortunate
people.'

She wondered what her ma and da would
make of lan Seaton. She hated to think.


323


Especially where her da was concerned.

She was so vulnerable, he thought. Sp very
vulnerable. Which wasn't the case with Moira.
Moira had ... a veneer about her. A class thing?
He didn't know. What he did know was he
much preferred the vulnerability. It made him
feel extremely protective. And more of a man
somehow.

'We can't stay here all night,' she said.

'Hardly.'

'And I'm freezing.'

He instantly took off his coat. 'Here, put this
round your shoulders.'

'What about you?' she queried in concern.

'I'm made of sterner stuff.'

Bridie shivered, something that had nothing to
do with the cold. Her mind was running riot.

'We'll leave it for a little while,' he declared.
'And then if there's no let up we'll simply have
to make a dash for it.'

'Yes.'

'Again, I'm sorry I got you into this.'

'That's all right.'

'No it's not. I'm angry with myself. I'm
supposed to be the countryman after all. You
the novice about these matters.'

How kind he was, and thoughtful. She
shivered again.

He listened to the rain rattling against the
hut's roof, while outside it sounded like a
firework display.

'I can hardly see you,' he said. 'Even though
you're standing right there.'

'Nor me you.'


324


I


'Perhaps . . . and don't take this the wrong
way. If I held you it might warm you up.'

Oh God, she thought. Please.

'Bridie?'

'I am cold.'

'Babes in the wood,' he joked. 'Just like
them.'

His arms went round her and she pressed
against his chest. He could feel her thudding
heart.

'Sir lan of Seaton,' she murmured.

'Maid Bridie.'

Then, throwing caution to the wind, not
giving a damn, he pressed his lips on hers,
she eagerly responding.

For the space of a minute or more it seemed
that time stood still for the pair of them.


*


'You know, you're one of the best things that's
ever happened to me.'

That shook Georgina, coming as it did so
completely out of the blue. 'Willie?'

He beamed at her. 'It's true. When Mary died
I thought. . . And then eventually you happened
along. You make me very happy. I want you to
know that.'

She averted her gaze, guilt and shame strong
within her. 'Thank you.'

'I was very lucky. And still am.'

'And so was I,' she mumbled.

He went to her and knelt, something that
further disconcerted Georgina. 'We make a good


325


couple you and I, don't you agree?'

All she could think of was Andrew and the
pair of them in bed together. What bliss that had
been, what sublime ecstasy. And now here was
Willie not only proclaiming his love for her but
also his devotion. It made her feel so cheap.

'Any regrets?' he asked quietly.

She wished she was anywhere but where she
was. How could she answer that? Certainly not
with the truth. Willie was a dear sweet man, she
couldn't hurt him. Though if he ever found out
about Andrew . . . But he wouldn't, she assured
herself. He wouldn't. She'd never let the cat out
of the bag, and Andrew wasn't likely to.

'Don't be silly,' she smiled.

He took her in his arms and held her close.
'Darling Georgina,' he whispered.

They stayed like that for a few moments and
then he released her, rising again to his feet.

'What brought that on?' she queried.

'I don't know. I simply felt like saying it.'

'And I'm glad you did,' she lied. 'Women
need to hear such things and so many men don't do it.'

'I appreciate that. Which is perhaps why
I did.'

She closed her eyes, remembering Andrew and
their lovemaking. While with Willie . . .

'I don't have any regrets either,' she further
lied.

'Are you sure?'

'What do you think?'

His smile was one of pure contentment. 'I was
thinking, I know we've recently been to Ireland.


326

But how would it be if we had a few days away

together? Just the pair of us.'

Her heart sank. 'What about the estate?'
'lan did such a splendid job I don't have any

fears about leaving him in charge again. And it

would only be for a few days. A long weekend

perhaps.'

'That would be wonderful, Willie.'

'Let's call it a second honeymoon.'

'I'm looking forward to it already.'

'Good.'

She thought once more of Andrew. If only

. . . Oh if only . . .


*


On reaching her room Bridie closed the door
and started to strip out of her wet things. She
was soaked to the skin.

When naked she vigorously towelled herself
then slipped into her nightie and dressing
gown. Sitting on the bed she started combing
her hair.

There hadn't been any let up in the storm so
in the end they'd had to brave it. Not that she'd
cared about the rain by then any more. lan had
kissed her. A dream come true.

He'd apologised afterwards, muttering he
didn't know what had come over him. She
had replied that it didn't matter. They'd then
lapsed into an awkward silence, neither sure
what to say next.

Bridie stopped combing and closed her eyes,
recalling the kiss. She'd been kissed before but


327



never like that. It was as though . . . She'd
felt that kiss right down to the very spies of
her feet.

She mustn't be taken advantage of, she
thought. She wasn't going to end up at an
abortionist's. Look what the outcome of that
had been for poor Teresa.	

She had to put this out of her mind,, she told
herself. It was something that had happened
on 'the spur of the moment. lan was a young
man after all, hot blooded as they all were.
She didn't mean anything to him, how could
she?

Perhaps he'd sensed some of her feelings
towards him and the kiss had been his natural
reaction. Well, it was possible. Though she'd
tried hard not to let those feelings show.

Tried, but possibly failed. She resumed
combing, wishing he'd kissed her a second
time, and a third, and . . .

'Och stop havering, Bridie Flynn,' she said
aloud. It had just been one of those things.
Nothing more.


*


Scan swore and swung his legs out of bed.
He felt so bloody humiliated, not to mention
embarrassed.

Muriel raised herself on to an elbow and
stared at him. 'It doesn't matter,' she said.

'Of course it bloody matters,' he retorted
angrily.

'You were just nervous, that's all.'


328

Nervous! That was a laugh. He'd been

terrified.

'Maybe it was my fault,' she said placatingly.

'Aye, that's it. Must have been you.'

Muriel wasn't sure what to do in this situation.

She'd never been with a lad who couldn't

manage it before. It was a totally new experience

for her.

Calm down, Scan counselled himself. And
don't raise your voice. He didn't want the
others in the next room to hear. He smacked
a fist against a palm. 'Shite!' he muttered.

Muriel reached out and touched his back.
'Why don't we try again?'

He wrenched himself away. It would be
useless to do so, he just knew it would. 'No,'

he growled.

Muriel gazed at Scan, wondering what he
might do next in this highly volatile mood. She
put a hand to her mouth and worried a nail.

Sean thought of the other lads in the house.
He couldn't admit to them what had happened.
He'd be a laughing stock, his credibility straight

down the pan.

He swung on Muriel. 'You'll keep your mouth
shut about this. Understand?'

She nodded.

'Because if you don't I'll mark you.'

Her eyes grew large with fear. 'I won't
mention a word, Sean. Believe me.'

'See that you don't.'

She swallowed hard.

Sean glanced down at what dangled between
his legs, hating it for failing him. It had been


329


like a dead thing, no reaction whatsoever. He
couldn't believe it.

'Get dressed,' he instructed, and proceeded
to do the same.

When she was ready he suddenly grabbed her
by the throat. 'Mind what I said. If this gets out
you're marked.'

When he released her Muriel sagged and
sobbed.

'Rifeht then,' Scan declared, pulling himself
together. 'Big smiles and you all over me like
a rash when we get through there. And let me
do the talking.'

'Yes, Sean.'

'It was a big success, savvy? A belter. I'm a
real stud.'

He was smiling broadly when they joined the
others, Muriel clinging on to his arm.

'Wo-hey!' Mo Binchy called out.

'Wo-hey!' Sean repeated, his smile becoming
even broader.

Muriel felt like throwing up.


I

*


'What have you done to yourself?' Bridie
exclaimed in alarm as lan came through the
front door, a large blood stain on his trousers.

'I got careless and cut myself,' he explained.
'My fault, no one else's.'

Bridie, en route from one task to another,
instantly went to him in concern. 'Shall I send
for the doctor?'

lan shook his head. 'No, it's not as bad as it


330

looks. A gash that's all.'

She stared into his face. 'You look in pain.'
He shrugged. 'As I said, a gash that's all.'
Bridie immediately took charge. 'Well, it has
to be seen to. We'd better get you to the kitchen
and Mrs Coltart's medical box.'

That was what he'd intended and why he'd
returned home. The gash certainly needed
attention if it wasn't going to turn septic. He
smiled when she took his arm. 'Nurse Flynn is

it?' he teased.

Bridie disregarded that, worried about him.
This wasn't a time for jocularity. 'If you lean
on me I'll help you there.'

He didn't really need help but rather liked
the idea of leaning on Bridie. He winced when
he started to move again.

'I don't want to get blood on the floor,' he

declared.

'Your leg is far more important than that.

Blood can always be mopped up.'

There was an authority about her which
appealed to lan. In a way it rather reminded
him of his mother. 'This is very good of you,'
he said as he hobbled along.

'Nonsense.'

It was one of the few occasions in the
day when the kitchen was deserted. 'You sit
there,' she instructed, pulling out a chair. She
considered trying to locate Mrs Coltart, who
might have been anywhere in the house, then
decided to deal with the matter herself. She was
entirely capable after all.

'Pull up your trouser leg and let me have a


331


look,' she commanded.

He did as he was told. Bridie made a face
when she saw the wound, a nasty ragged tear.
'How did you do that?'

'With an axe, would you believe. I'm lucky it
wasn't worse.'

She couldn't have agreed more. It was the
work of a few moments to pour some hot water
and pick up a newly washed cloth.

'You're being very kind, Bridie.'

'Don't talk rot. I'm only doing what any of
the others would do.'

He noted how tender her touch was. Firm, yet
tender at the same time. Despite the discomfort
he was in he was actually enjoying this.	

'Maybe it should be stitched,' she murmured.

'It's not bad enough for that. Once bound
it'll heal well enough.'

She glanced up at him thinking how brave he
was. A real man in her opinion. 'It'll probably
leave a scar.'

He shrugged again. 'That doesn't bother me.
A small scar is neither here nor there.'

'Hold on a sec,' she said, and went to find
a pair of scissors which she used to snip away
hair covered in congealed blood.

How lovely she smelt, he reflected. A most
enticing smell. He wanted to bend down and
touch her but of course didn't.

'There,' she declared at last. 'That's as clean
as I can get it.'

'Thank you.'

Rising, she crossed to where Mrs Coltart's
medical box was kept, usually used for accidents


332

in the kitchen, and returned with it. From the
box she produced a roll of bandage and bottle
of iodine.

'This is going to sting,' she said, taking the
stopper off the bottle.

He smiled, a smile that quickly turned to a
grimace. 'Ouch,' he whispered through gritted

teeth.

'I warned you.'

He dragged in a deep breath which he slowly
exhaled. She hadn't been exaggerating when
she'd said it would hurt. He wanted to jump
up and hop around but felt he couldn't do so
in front of her.

The iodine applied, Bridie now began to
bandage the wound, pulling the bandage tight.
There were small brass safety pins in the medical
box which she used to fasten the bandage off.

'All done,' she finally announced.

lan flexed his leg a little. 'You've done an
excellent job, thank you.'

'I think you should go and lie down for a
while, don't you?'

He considered that a good idea. 'I believe
I will.'

She nodded her approval. 'Shall I take you
up?'

'I'm sure I can cope.'
'It's no trouble, honest.'

He was tempted, but decided against it.
Now the gash had been dealt with he should manage under his own steam. Til be fine, I
assure you.'

For a few moments their eyes met and there


333


was something between them, an intimacy.

'What's all this then?'	,

That sudden intrusion startled the two of
them. They turned to discover Mrs Kilbride
framed in the doorway. lan swiftly explained.

'Dear me,' Mrs Kilbride sympathised.

'My own fault,' lan repeated as Bridie began
putting things away again.

He came to his feet. 'Bridie here has been
splendid. I couldn't have been better looked
after.'

Mrs Kilbride beamed, obviously pleased to
hear that.

'Now if you'll excuse me. At Bridie's
suggestion I'm going to lie down for a while.
The leg is throbbing somewhat.'

'Shall I send you up something, a cup of tea
perhaps?'

lan shook his head. Til have a stiff whisky,
that'll do me a lot more good than tea.'

He was at the door when he turned to stare
directly at Bridie. 'Thank you again, Bridie. I
appreciate what you did.'

She didn't reply, but a faint smile danced on
her lips.


334




19


Kathleen woke to find Pat flailing about in bed.
Tat, what's wrong?'

He didn't reply, his arms and legs continuing
to thrash wildly. 'Pat?'

He suddenly sat up, said something she
couldn't make out, then fell back again.

Dear God, she thought. When she touched
his shoulder it felt red hot.

Kathleen lit a candle, then caught her breath
when she saw Pat's face. His eyes were open
and staring, sweat streaming down his forehead
and cheeks. He looked like a man demented.

Tat, can you hear me?'

Again there was no reply.

She shook him. 'Wake up. I want to speak
to you.'

He turned his head to stare at her, but his
eyes were unseeing.

'Holy Mary Mother of God,' she whispered.
What was all this? He was in a dreadful state
and no mistake.

She had to think, she told herself, forcing
herself out of the deep sleep she'd been in.
The first thing to do was get Sean. She
needed help.

'WTiat . . . what is it?' Sean mumbled a few
moments later.

'Your da's been taken ill. Come on through.'

'111? Pissed more like.'


335


'It isn't that. He wasn't out tonight. And he
was fine when he went to bed.'

Scan groaned. 'Bloody hell!' Trust the sodding
old man. 'Aye, all right, Ma. Just give me a sec
to collect myself.'

Kathleen hurried back to Pat who was now
dribbling at the mouth. She had a thermometer 1
somewhere, she remembered. Maybe she should
take his temperature.	

She placed a hand on his forehead, which '
frightened her. He seemed to be literally burning


UP-	 'I'm here, Ma,' Scan yawned.

'Come and take a look at this.'	lf

Scan crossed to the bed and gazed down at Pat. 'Jesus wept,' he muttered.

'You'll have to run for the doctor, son. This i
is serious.'

Scan shook his father as Kathleen had done,
only more vigorously. 'Da? Da, wake up!' He
knew when there was no response that his
mother was right. Here was a job for the
doctor.

Til get round there right away,' Scan declared,
and vanished from the room.

Kathleen started to cry, this was awful. What
was wrong with him, what was wrong? She
wrung her hands praying for the doctor to turn
up as quickly as possible.

Pat briefly returned to his senses. Slowly he
focused on Kathleen sitting by his bedside, her
expression one of grave anxiety. Christ but he
was boiling.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing


336

came out. No sound at all. And then he was
drifting off again. A great black hole beckoned,
a hole into which he was falling.


*


Dr Robertson shook his head, this was beyond

him.

'Well, Doctor?' Kathleen demanded, Scan
hovering in the background.

'To be honest with you, Mrs Flynn, I don't
know what's wrong. So what I'm going to do
is go home and read up some books and then
come back again in a few hours.'

'Have you no medicine you can give him?'
Scan queried.

Robertson considered that. 'Not really. Until
I know what the problem is I can't treat it. If I
gave him the wrong thing now it might do more
harm than good.'

'Some bloody doctor,' Scan muttered
ungraciously.

Kathleen rounded on him. 'Sean!' she
admonished. 'The doctor's doing his best.'

Robertson shrugged. He was used to this
sort of behaviour. It often happened. A natural
enough reaction in the circumstances. So many
people expected him to turn up, give the patient
a pill, and hey presto! Well, sometimes it just
wasn't like that.

'In the meantime all I can suggest is you keep
him covered. I don't want him catching a chill
on top of everything else, and see if he'll take
some water.'


337


Robertson stood up, then regarded Pat
quizzically. This really was a poser. , He'd
never seen anything quite like it. 'As I said,
I'll be back later.'

'Thank you for coming at this hour, Doctor.
It can't be any fun having to get out of your
bed in the middle of the night.'

He wanted to laugh at that. It was an ongoing
part of his life he'd never got used to. As for
Betty his wife . . . she'd become stoic in the
extreme about the telephone ringing in the early
hours, or, in this case, a bang on the door.

Til be on my way then.'

Kathleen saw him out.

'Would you like a cup of tea, Ma?'

'Oh thanks, son. That would be lovely.'

Til put the kettle on.'

Kathleen brought her attention back to Pat.
At least the flailing of limbs had stopped. And
his eyes had shut. In fact he was now so still
he might have been . . .

Kathleen shuddered. What if he died? What
then? It didn't bear thinking about.

Pat could hear voices, one of which he
recognised as Kathleen's. That gave him
enormous peace of mind. He somehow felt
safe with her close by.

Kathleen, his wife of so many years. The
woman he'd married and who'd borrie his
children. The woman who was almost an
extension of himself.

He knew he'd be all right as long as she
was there. Kathleen would take care of him.
Wouldn't let him down.


338

Not as he'd let her down.

The heat had gone out of Pat's body, and now
he began to shiver with extreme cold. Kathleen
piled the spare quilt on top of the bed, and when
that didn't help climbed in beside him and held
him close, giving him her own body heat.

It was possible what he had might be
contagious, but she wasn't bothered about
that. All she wanted was for him to get better
again.

Tat,' she crooned. 'Oh Pat.'

The smallest of smiles crept on to his face.


*


'It's hospital for him I'm afraid, Mrs Flynn,' Dr Robertson announced.

'What about those books you went home to
read?'

'Didn't shed any light I'm afraid. I'm still
stymied. Mr Flynn needs to be seen by a
specialist in my opinion.'

'Can I go with him?'

'To hospital?'

'Aye, that's right, Doctor.'

'Of course you can. If you wish.'

'I do.' Then simply, 'He's my man.'

Robertson nodded that he understood.

Half an hour later the ambulance, which
Robertson had already ordered, arrived.

Sometime during the journey to the hospital
Pat lapsed into a coma.


*
339


lan stopped and sat on a grass-covered tussock.
He was on the moor which formed part of the
estate. He should be getting on, he thought,
there was so much to do. But, as so often of
late, all he could think about was Bridie.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
It was madness really, he told himself for the
umpteenth time. Falling for a servant. Daft
beyond belief.

Except he hadn't asked to fall in love. It had
simply happened. An event over which he had
had no control.

He smiled, recalling the kiss in the hut. How
responsive she'd been. And how sweet her
mouth. A mouth he yearned to taste again.

Then his mind turned to Moira. That's where
his future lay. Or if not with Moira, then some
girl like her, of her class and standing. Anything
else was a nonsense.

Moira would be a good wife, he thought. And
they made a handsome couple together, everyone
said so. There was only one drawback. He didn't
love her.

Liked her, yes. Respected her, yes also. And
she was certainly beautiful, a real knock out.
Far prettier than Bridie.

But it was Bridie he loved, there was no
getting away from that. And damnable it was
too.

Damnable!

Getting up he continued on his way, trying
-- and failing -- to put Bridie out of his
mind.


340

*


Kathleen was waiting in a side room while Mr
Durie the specialist was with Pat. She glanced
again at a wall clock, wondering how long this
was going to take. Mr Durie had already been
with Pat a good half hour.

The seconds continued to tick slowly by.


*


Kathleen stood up the moment Mr Durie,
accompanied by Dr Robertson, entered the
room. Her expression clearly denoted how
worried she was.

'Well, Mrs Flynn.' Durie smiled. 'I've
examined the patient and had some tests
made. Hopefully we'll know more when we
have the results of those tests.'

'So you still can't say what's wrong with
him?'

'I'm afraid not, Mrs Flynn. To begin with
I suspected meningitis, but that was soon
discounted. Then I . . . ' He broke off. 'I won't
go into all the details, merely that I haven't yet
been able to diagnose the problem.'

Disappointment filled Kathleen. She'd been
sure Durie would have made a diagnosis by
now and they'd know what was what. 'I see,'
she murmured.

'Now I suggest you go home and have some
rest. You can come again this evening at visiting

time.'

Kathleen stuck out her jaw. 'I want to be with


341


im, Doctor. All the time he's here.'

'That isn't possible, Mrs Flynn,' Durie replied
sympathetically. 'Hospitals have rules which
can't be broken.'

Kathleen's defiance immediately vanished and
she crumpled in on herself. 'I'm sorry,' she
apologised as she began to weep.

Robertson went to Kathleen and put an arm
round her shoulders. 'What I'm sure we can do
is let'you have a little time with him before you
go home. Five or ten minutes say.' He glanced
at Durie who hesitated, then nodded.

'So how about that?'

'Thank you, Dr Robertson.'

'There might be a risk involved should you
touch him so I'd prefer you didn't. Not for now
anyway. Understand?'

Kathleen nodded. 'Anyway, if I'm going to
catch anything from Pat I've already done so. I
was in bed with him for most of the night don't
forget. And I got back in again and cuddled him
when he became cold.'

Durie wondered if he should keep Kathleen
in for observation. 'And how do you feel, Mrs
Flynn?'

'Beside myself.'

He smiled. 'I meant physically.'

'Tired. Worried. Nothing else.'

That seemed normal enough. 'I'd like to check
you over just in case. Then you can visit, Mrs
Flynn.'

Kathleen had no objection to that. 'There's
one thing I want to ask you, Doctor. And I'd
appreciate it if you're frank with me.'


342

I

'What's that, Mrs Flynn?'

'Could Pat die from whatever he's got?'

Durie took a deep breath. 'Then frank I'll be.
Your guess is as good as mine right now. But I
have to admit there is that possibility. He is in
a coma after all.'

Kathleen made a choking sound and turned
away from the two men so they couldn't see her
expression.


*


Sean was at 'the place' which he had to himself.
He was staring at the money belonging to the
Samurai. It was kept in a steel box which
was now open on his lap. Recently the gang
numbers had swollen to thirty-five members
but only the originals shared out the cash they
brought in every week. Cash that kept growing
and growing in quantity as they expanded their
operations. Fourteen pubs were now paying
them protection plus a great many shops. The
gang were rolling in it.

'All thanks to me,' Sean said aloud, and
smiled. Yes, the whole thing had been his
idea, the gang, the protection, everything. To
his way of thinking he was due more than he'd
been paying himself.

The others would never know, he reasoned.
They got their divvy every week and that was
that. What was left over was kept right here
in the money box, no one knowing how much
there actually was apart from him.

'Fuck it!' he swore softly. It was his right.


343


hHe counted out thirty pounds and slipped the notes into his pocket. He then shut and Ipcked I
the box before returning it to its hiding place.

King of the castle! That was him right enough.
He felt no qualms whatsoever about stealing
from his friends.

They were all dummies anyway. Not like
him.


*


Mail to the staff was always given out over
breakfast. A delighted Bridie accepted the letter
from Mrs Coltart and, on recognising her
mother's writing, eagerly tore it open and
began reading the contents.

She went pale. 'Dear God in Heaven she
muttered.

Mrs Coltart, who'd just sat down, glanced
over at Bridie who was only two places away.
'Something wrong, Bridie?'

Tears sprang into Bridie's eyes. 'It's my da.
He's . . . he's . . . ' She swallowed hard. 'He's
ill and maybe going to die.'

The chatter round the table ceased.

Mrs Coltart regarded Bridie steadily. 'Does
the letter say what's wrong with him?'

Bridie shook her head. 'They don't know but
he's in a coma.'

She glanced at the letter again, tears spilling
on to the pristine white and heavily starched
table cloth. 'My ma wants me to go home and
see him just . . . just in case.'

'Understandable,' Mrs Coltart murmured.


344

Bridie gave Mrs Coltart a pleading look. 'Can
I?' she whispered.

On brief reflection Mrs Coltart came to the
conclusion this was a matter for Mr Seaton to
decide. 'Can I have that letter?' she asked.

It was passed to her. 'Wait here and finish
your breakfast, Bridie. I shan't be long.'

Finish her breakfast? How could she do that?
It was impossible.

Jeannie Swanson, sitting next to Bridie,
squeezed her arm while the rest of the table,
including Mrs Kilbride, remained silent.

As chance would have it lan was with his
father when Mrs Coltart came in. 'Sorry to
bother you, sir, but something's come up.'

Willie and lan had been deep in conversation
about matters regarding the estate, the pair of
them in disagreement over one of them. Willie
was subsequently in a rather testy mood.

'Yes, what is it, Mrs Coltart?'

She explained the situation.

'Poor lass,' lan exclaimed in concern.

'Here's the letter, sir,' Mrs Coltart said,
handing it to Willie who swiftly scanned it.

'I thought whether or not she was allowed to
go should be your decision, sir.'

'You must let her go, Pa, you must,' lan
urged.

'Must I indeed?'

'Well I certainly think you should.'

lan was right of course, what he would
have done anyway. 'I presume she'll want
to leave straight away?' Willie said to Mrs
Coltart.


345



'In the circumstances that would make sense,
sir.'

'Right then, see to it. She can have as long
as she likes, within reason that is.'

'With pay, sir?'

Willie considered that for a moment. 'Yes,
with full pay. And I shall also take care of her
train fare. See she's given sufficient funds out
of petty cash, Mrs Coltart.'

'You're very generous, sir.'

Willie didn't reply to that.

Mrs Coltart was turning to leave when lan
had an idea. 'I think I'll drive her to the station
myself.'

Mrs Coltart paused to hear the outcome of
this exchange.

'You?' Willie queried in astonishment. 'But
you've got work to be getting on with.'

'It won't take that long, Pa. And I'd like to.
She's a nice girl, and hard working as I'm sure
Mrs Coltart will testify.'

'She is indeed, on both counts,' Mrs Coltart
stated quietly.

'So is it all right, Pa?'

Willie shrugged. 'Suit yourself. As long as you
make up the time when you return.'

'I will, Pa. I promise. Now I'll go and bring
the car round.'

lan accompanied Mrs Coltart from the room
leaving a puzzled Willie staring after his son.

Now why was lan volunteering to drive a
member of staff to the station when there were
others who normally did that sort of thing?

'Hmmh,' he mused. Could it be there was


346

something between lan and Bridie Flynn,
something he knew nothing about? It wouldn't
be the first time after all that there had been
a relationship, purely on a sexual basis of
course, between the two classes. Could that
possibly be it?

No, he was letting his imagination run away
with him. lan wasn't that sort. It just wasn't
part of his nature. At least he didn't think so.

And lan had Moira, he wouldn't jeopardise
that. Surely not! Not for a little dalliance with
a maid.


*


Everyone looked round when Mrs Coltart came
back into the kitchen. 'All right, Bridie, go and
get packed. You're on the first train home. And
you're being driven to the station by Master lan
himself no less. So get a move on, girl.'

Bridie hastily rose. 'Thank you, Mrs Coltart.
Thank you.'

'It's Mister Seaton you want to thank. Not
only for giving you paid leave but offering
to meet the cost of your train fare into the
bargain.'

'Ooh!' Bridie breathed, that was a huge
bonus.

'Now hop to it. You don't want to keep
Master lan waiting. He's a busy man.'

'Right then,' Bridie said, and, excusing herself,
rushed away.

Mrs Coltart caught Mrs Kilbride's eye and
they both nodded. This only confirmed yet


347


again what they'd often said to one another.
Mr Seaton was a gem of an employer,. They
didn't come any better. And it looked as though
Master lan was taking after his father in that
department.


*


'Are you close to your dad?' lan asked Bridie
asthe car moved away from the house, her case
lodged in the boot.

Bridie hesitated for a few seconds. 'I suppose
so, sir. Though not as close as I am to
my ma.'

'I see. And it's lan when we're alone.'

'Yes, s . . . Yes, lan.'

'We don't have to rush by the way. I checked
the timetable before leaving and there won't be a
train for a while. I'll wait with you at the station
to make sure you get safely aboard.'

'There's no need to do that, lan. I don't want
to put you out any more than I have to.'

He grinned. 'I insist. As Jock Gibson the estate
manager says, if a job's worth doing then it's
worth doing well. And he's right. So put you
on the train I shall.'

'You're very kind. Driving me yourself anda that.'

'Not particularly kind, Bridie. It's something
I want to do.'

She glanced sideways at him, then again at
the road stretching ahead. 'About that night in
the hut, lan.'

'Yes?'


348

Til never mention it to anyone.'
'I know that, Bridie.'

There was silence between them, then Bridie
said, 'Can I ask you a question?'
'Go right ahead.'
Tve been wondering . . . why did you kiss

me?'

Tell the truth? He couldn't do that. Not all
of it anyway. 'Because I find you very attractive,
that's why.'

She tried to digest that. He found her
attractive! 'You wouldn't ever ... try to take
advantage of me, would you?'

lan sighed. How did he answer that one? More
than anything else he wanted to take advantage
of her, as she put it.

'Because I wouldn't let you. Not you or
any other man. Not even if it cost me my
position.'

'Don't worry, Bridie, I won't.'

'Thank you, I appreciate that.'

Again silence descended between them. 'Miss
Moira's very beautiful,' Bridie said eventually.

If he'd been more worldly wise lan would have
heard the jealousy in her voice. 'I suppose so,'
he admitted reluctantly.

There was no supposing about it, Bridie
thought. Moira McLaren was gorgeous. The
bees' knees. 'Are you . . . going to get married?'

Bridie gulped, what an impertinent question
to ask. It was none of her business whether they
were or not. But part of her desperately wanted
to know.

Now it was lan's turn to glance sideways at


349


her. 'It's a possibility.'

'Ah!' she breathed.	

'Why?'

Bridie shrugged. 'Just curious, that's all.'

'And why should you be curious, Bridie
Flynn?'

Oh God, she thought. Because it would break
her heart, but she wasn't going to tell him that.
'Women usually are about such things,' she
preVaricated.

'Indeed.'

'Oh yes.'

He suddenly felt the almost overwhelming
temptation to pull the car off the road and kiss
Bridie. Hold her close. Breathe in her smell.

'And what about you, will you get married
one day?' he queried instead.

'I hope so.'

'He'll be a fortunate lad who marries you.'

She flushed slightly. 'Thank you.'

'I mean it.'

She wanted to reply that Moira was fortunate
too, more than so. But didn't.

'How is your reading coming along?' lan
inquired, changing the subject.	I

Much to Bridie's relief	I


*	J


.


'There she is,' lan declared, having spied steam

in the distance. The train was right on time.

'How are you getting home from the station?'

'Tram of course. It's too far to walk. Especially

with a case to carry.'


350

'Will you do me a favour?'
Do him a favour! She'd have done anything
for lan Seaton. Well, almost anything. 'If I

can.'

lan pulled out his wallet from which he
extracted a five-pound note. 'Take a taxi home

on me.'

Bridie stared at the note. 'I can't accept money
from you, lan.'

'Why not?'

'It wouldn't be right. I mean . . . ' She broke
off in confusion.

He laughed softly. 'It would give me pleasure
for you to accept it, Bridie. Honestly. And there
aren't any strings attached, I swear.'

'But ... a whole five pounds!'

'Taxi there and back when you return. Plus
a few pounds to spend as you will.'

She regarded him coldly. 'This isn't payment
for that kiss I hope?'

He was outraged. 'It most certainly is not.
All I was thinking is that in your present state
it would be far nicer for you to go by taxi than
tram or omnibus.'

Bridie softened. It would be nice. If for no
other reason that she'd never ever been in a taxi.
Talk about swank! She could just imagine what
the neighbours would think when she drew up
outside their close. It would be all round the
street within minutes.

'Go on,' lan urged. 'Please.'

'No strings attached?'

'My word of honour.'

She hesitated for only a few seconds longer.


351


'Now you're being more than kind.'

'Just don't let on to anyone at The Haven
that's all.'

'I won't.'

'They might misunderstand. Read into it what
isn't there.'

'I understand.'

'Good.'

She slipped the fiver into her coat pocket.

*And Bridie.'

'Yes?'

'I sincerely hope your father gets better.'

'Thank you, lan.'

He wanted to touch her, run his fingers down
her face. But daren't. There was a hollowness
inside him, a sense of loss, at her impending
departure.

Bridie stood as the train was now approaching
the station. lan did likewise.

He glanced up and down the platform, they
were the only ones there and that's how it
seemed it was going to remain.

Bridie wondered how she was going to say
goodbye. Shake his hand?

The train tooted just before drawing alongside
in great gushes and whooshes of steam. When it
eventually stopped lan led her to a compartment
and opened the door.

'In you go then,' he smiled, following her so
he could put her case on the overhead rack.

'Thanks again for everything, lan,' she said
rather awkwardly.

'Don't mention it.'

He was about to leave the compartment when,


352

On a sudden impulse, he turned and hastily
pecked her on the cheek.

'You take care, Maid Bridie.'

'I will ... Sir lan.'

He leapt onto the platform and shut the
compartment door. They both stood staring at
each other until, with a jolt, the train continued
on its way.

'Goodbye, my love,' lan whispered to himself.


353



20


Bridie let herself in with her key. She laid her
case down and went through to the kitchen
where she found her mother dozing in a chair.

'Ma?'

Kathleen's eyes blinked open, then delight
flooded her face. 'Bridie!'

'I'm back as you asked, Ma.'

Kathleen flew into Bridie's arms and they both
hugged one another tight. 'Thank the Lord,'
Kathleen whispered.

They disentangled themselves. 'How's Da?'

Kathleen shrugged. 'The same I'm afraid. And
they still don't know what's wrong with him.
A second specialist was called in and he's as
mystified as the first.'

Her mother had lost weight, Bridie noted.
And there were new lines on her face. Deep
lines as though cut with a knife. 'When can I
see him?'

'Tonight. We'll go together.'

Bridie nodded, then glanced about her. How
good it was to be home, everything just as
she remembered it. 'So how have you been
coping?'

'Surprisingly Scan's been very good. Helps me
out in all sorts of ways. Mind you, he has the
time now that he doesn't work.'

'Doesn't work? Has he been laid off?' This
was news to Bridie, Kathleen never having


354

mentioned it in any of her letters.

'Would you like a cup of tea?'

'You sit down, Ma, I'll do it.'

Kathleen sank back into the chair she'd just
been dozing in. 'You might as well know, he left
Barry's of his own accord. Simply walked out.'

'But why?' Bridie was appalled.

'He doesn't have to work any more. Doesn't
need the money. He . . . eh . . . ' This was
difficult. 'It seems he gets money from that
gang of his, the Samurai.'

Bridie frowned as she ran water into the kettle.
'How does he do that?'

'Don't ask, girl. I don't. I've heard stories
though. The sort that would make any decent
mother weep.'

'That bad, eh?'

'Worse, lass. It appears he's turned into a kind
of ... ' She swallowed, finding the word hard
to say. 'Gangster.'

'Jesus,' Bridie breathed.

'Him and the others, his chinas, up to all sorts.
He's bound to land in jail if he's not careful. But
you know Scan, he's not one to be told.'

Bridie knew that only too well. She had
a strange relationship with her brother, she
reflected. There were many likeable things about
him, but even more dislikeable ones. He'd
always rather scared her if she was honest.
Her da had always been able to control him
until that fight which she'd realised had been a
turning point. That night the young Turk had
taken over from the old.

'Does he pay you now? For his lodge I mean.'


355


'Oh aye, same as before. Only now I get
wee extras. And right handy they come in I
can tell you.'

'Where's he now?'

'Search me, Bridie. The pub most like. He
spends a lot more time in there than he used _
to. Well, he's got more money now than he had when at Barry's.'

'I'm pleased to hear he's been a help. Now 
what about Alison?'	f

'She's at school as you probably realise. She's I
been in to see her da, I thought that best. When
she was there I told her he was sleeping, not that ;
he was in a coma. She doesn't know how serious
it all is.'	i

Kathleen choked and turned her head away."
'I don't know what I'll do if he dies, Bridie. Even if it has been difficult between us for a
while.'

'Difficult?'

The kettle now on, Bridie came and sat facing
her mother.

Kathleen's shoulders heaved. 'I shouldn't tell
you this, but . . . ' She trailed off.

'Ma?'

Kathleen had to force herself to speak. 'He's
been seeing another woman.'

That rocked Bridie. 'You're joking!'

'I'm not. He confessed when I confronted
him with the evidence.' She didn't mention the
terrible beating he'd given her.

'And what evidence was that, Ma?'

Kathleen told her.

Bridie couldn't believe this. Her father with a


356

fancy piece, a bit of fluff, on the side. 'Do you
know who she is?'

Kathleen shook her head. 'The excuse to
visit her was that he was going to a union
committee meeting. I was so proud that he was on a committee, only to find out it was
all a lie.'

Bridie knelt in front of Kathleen and took her
into her arms. 'How awful for you, Ma.'

'You've no idea, lassie. It was as though the
world had ended. I've always thought your da
and I had a good marriage. Oh it's had its ups
and downs right enough, but that's only natural.
But for him to go with someone else. That was
a bitter pill and no mistake.'

'Oh Ma, I'm so sorry.'

'Not nearly as much as me, lass. I keep
thinking I must have failed him in some way.
Though how I don't know.'

Bridie released her mother. 'I can't believe
you've failed him in any way. You always
seemed so ... happy together.'

'That's what I thought. But it would seem we
were both wrong.' Kathleen sighed and closed
her eyes. 'I even had Father O'Banion speak to
him, but that didn't do any good. He just went
on as before.'

'Does anyone else know?'

Kathleen shook her head. 'Just me, you and
Father O'Banion. And you musn't say anything,
mind. I'd die of shame.'

'I won't, Ma. You can trust me.'

'Aye, Bridie,' Kathleen smiled. 'I can that.'

Kathleen got up. 'I've a few wee biscuits


357



in. Some of them chocolate. Shall we spoil
ourselves?'	,
Bridie laughed. 'Why not.'


*


Bridie gasped when she saw her father. How old
he looked, and thin. Gone was the roistering
Irishman she remembered.

'Dear God,' she whispered.

'Not a murmur out of him since he went into
the coma,' Kathleen said.

Pat's face, normally a healthy pink verging on
the ruddy, was white and waxen. There were
streaks of grey in his hair where there had been
none before.

'What do you think?' Kathleen queried in a
soft voice.

'He looks terrible.'

'Aye, true enough.'

'And shrunken.'

That too was true, Kathleen thought. If Pat
did recover, and please God he did, he'd never
be the same man again.

'I usually talk to him,' Kathleen explained. 'I
don't suppose it does any good, but I usually
talk nonetheless.'

'About what, Ma?'

'Oh, anything and everything. Gossjp on
the street, remembrances from when we were
younger, how Alison's doing at school. That
sort of thing. Now you're here why don't you
have a go?'

Kathleen sat on the chair by the beside and


358

Bridie pulled up another. 'Hello, Da, it's me.
Back to visit you. What's all this nonsense
then?'

Of course there was no reply.

'Would you like to hear about the place where
I'm working? It's some house I can tell you. The
biggest mansion you could imagine.'

She told him everything about The Haven,
with the exception of her falling in love with
lan Seaton.


*


Geraldine Buchanan stared out of her window
at the coalman below heaving a bag on to his
back. Surely that wasn't Pat?

A few minutes later the man was at her door.
'Come away in,' she smiled, and ushered him
through. 'You're new.'

'Aye, that's right. On this round anyway.'

'It's usually a Mr Flynn who delivers.'

'Pat, you mean, poor sod's in hospital lying
at death's door.'

'Death's door?' Geraldine stammered in reply.

'He's got something terribly wrong with him
and they don't know what. He's in a coma.'

'How . . . did that happen?'

The coalman regarded her quizzically. 'A
friend of yours is he?'

'No no, nothing like that. I'm simply
concerned, that's all. He's always such a
pleasant, cheery chap.'

'They've no idea how it happened. Took him
in the middle of the night apparently and en


359


route to hospital he went into a coma. That's
all I can tell you.'


'I'll get your money,' a stunned Geraldine
said, and hurried off.

When the man had gone Geraldine poured
herself a stiff drink. Pat in a coma, at death's
door!


As the saying went, you never knew the
moment till the moment after.
v

*


'What's wrong with your face the night?' Noddy
Gallagher inquired good-humouredly of Scan.
They were in the pub with Bill O'Connell and
Don McGuire.

Sean glared at him. 'Why don't you mind
your own fucking business.'

'Sorry,' Noddy hastily apologised. 'Didn't
mean to offend annat.'

Sean picked up the whisky in front of him and
threw it down his throat. He was in a black anger
over what had happened earlier. Or to be precise
what hadn't happened.

He'd taken Muriel back into the bedroom
and tried again, only to fail a second time.
She'd been placatory, but that hadn't washed
with him. It had to be the bitch's fault. Had
to be. There was nothing wrong with him as he
could testify most mornings when he woke. Or
on other occasions.

He'd smacked her one, knocking her right
off the bed, which had made him feel better.
Once outside he'd told her to piss off, he never


360


wanted to see her again. He'd smiled watching
her scuttle away like some frightened rabbit.

He'd get another hint and that would make
all the difference. That weekend at a dance
perhaps. Nor would he have any trouble, they
all knew who he was. All he'd have to do was
crook a finger at whichever bird took his fancy
and she'd come running.

'Oh Christ!' Bill O'Connell swore softly.

'What's wrong?' Don McGuire queried, seeing
Bill's expression of extreme apprehension.

'Sean,' Bill hissed.

'Aye, what is it?'

Bill nodded to some young men who'd just
come into the pub and sauntered over to the
bar. 'Do you know who they are?'

Sean glanced at the newcomers and shook his
head. 'Haven't a clue.'

'They're Long.'

Sean involuntarily sucked in a breath. 'Are
you sure?'

'Sure as damnit. I've got an old pal runs with
that lot. He introduced me to some of them
once. And several of those are there.'

Sean quickly counted them. Eleven in all,
while they were only four. Hardly good odds
if a ruction started.

'What are we going to do?' Bill asked
anxiously.

'Do? Ef all. They're entitled to come in
here if they want. They're not causing us any
harm.'

He turned to Noddy. 'It's your shout. You'd
better get the round in.'


361


'Aye, right away. Scan.' Noddy hastily vacated
his seat.

'They don't look so tough to me Don
McGuire declared bravely.

Sean shot him a contemptuous glance. 'Well,
they are, if their reputation is anything to go by.
Hard men, one and all.'

Sean noted several of the Long surreptitiously "
looking in their direction. Shit, he thought. This  could well be trouble.	I

About five minutes later one of the Long
strolled across to stand by their table. He I
was smiling affably. Though that didn't fool 1
Sean any.

'Which one of youse is Sean Flynn?'	1

Sean stared into the palest and coldest blue f
eyes he'd ever seen. 'I am.'	

'Oh aye. Well, I'm Big Bill Bremner. Maybe 
you've heard of me?'

Sean nodded. Big Bill Bremner was the leader
of the Long. He could now see why he was
called Big Bill. The man was only slightly over
five feet tall, if that. In Glasgow it's well known
that the smaller the man the more dangerous he
can be. And Big Bill was no exception. He had
a reputation for violence and mayhem as long
as anyone's arm.

'So you're the Samurai,' Big Bill chuckled.

'A few of us.'

'Doing well I understand, though in a rather
unconventional way if I may say so.'

Sean bit back an acid retort. He had no wish
to antagonise the bastard.

'All Micks as well.'


362

Sean had no idea how this was going to turn
out. He was just glad he had his razor in his
pocket. If he went down it would be fighting.

'That's right.'

Big Bill's gaze swept the foursome. 'The map
of Ireland written over all your faces.'

Sean didn't reply to that.

'An awful wee gang I understand. We've got
hundreds.'

Again Sean didn't reply.

'I hope you don't mind us coming into your
territory like?'

Sean was hating this, feeling humiliated. But
he wasn't going to start anything, not when
it was eleven against four. He shrugged. 'Suit
yourself.'

'Aye, that's right. I usually do.'

A pale-faced Noddy picked up his pint and
had a sip. He had trouble swallowing.

'Maybe you'll come up our end of town
one day?'

That was clearly a challenge. 'Maybe.'

'I'd like that.'

Sean had no doubt Big Bill would. Should
they be so stupid, in their present strength it
would be a massacre. 'As you say, Big Bill,
one day.'

Big Bill finished his drink and placed the
empty glass on the table. 'Interesting meeting
you blokes.'

'Likewise,' Sean replied.

Tm sure.'

The affable smile returned. Til be seeing
you.'


363


Scan nodded.

'Cunt he swore quietly when Big Bill was
out of earshot. 'Cunt.'


*


'I thought I might visit my parents for a few
days Georgina announced to Willie.

'But it's not that time of year!' he protested.

'I know that, but I just fancy going. A change
of scenery would do me the world of good.'

An understanding smile came on to his
face. 'You mean you want to go round the
shops.'

She pretended confusion, as though she'd
been found out. 'That will be nice I have to
admit.'

Willie disliked it when Georgina went away.
He felt lonely, even though there were others in
the house. 'If you wish.'

'Just for a few days as I said, not longer.'

That mollified him a little. Til miss you of
course.'

She went to him and pecked him on the
cheek. 'Good. Then you'll appreciate me even
more when I get back.'

'I always appreciate you, Georgina. Never
think I don't.'

Guilt stabbed her at what she had planned.
Or hoped to plan. 'And I appreciate you, Willie.
You're a loving, adoring husband whom I love
with all my heart.'

He beamed on hearing that. 'Give me a proper
kiss,' he requested as they were alone.


364

Female Judas, Georgina thought, as their lips
met.


*


Andrew opened the letter and scanned its
contents. His eyebrows slowly rose.

'Well well,' he muttered, laying the letter
aside. How about that! Whatever else you could
accuse Georgina of it wasn't being shy in coming
forward.

Go or not? He wasn't sure.

Of course he was, damnit. He bloody well
would. Wild horses wouldn't keep him away.

He desperately needed a woman and this one
was available.


*


Jack Riach ran a hand over his forehead while
facing him Hettie waited for him to continue
dictating.

'Damn!' he swore.

'What's wrong?'

'I can't . . . ' He shook his head. 'I don't
know what comes next. It's a blank.'

'Then I suggest that's enough for today, Jack.'

'I suppose so.'

He lapsed into a brooding silence.

'Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?'

'No thank you.'

Hettie stared at him, his face creased with
thought. 'Let it go, Jack. Put it out of your
mind for now.'


365


He took off his dark glasses and rubbed his
eyeless sockets which, for some reason, were
hurting him. 'It's the war, Hettie, the bloody
war. Remembering it for the plays was bad
enough, but this, being a novel and far longer,
is worse. A great deal worse.'

'I think you're doing awfully well so far,
Jack.'

'Do you really?'

*Yes. And I wouldn't lie to you. I'd never
do that.'

Hettie hesitated, then said, 'The bits about
you and me are so true to life, Jack. When you
dictate it's as though you were speaking and I
was replying.'

'What an idiot I was in those early days,' he
mused. 'Young, selfish, full of myself. It took
a German grenade to knock all that out of me
and see things . . . ' He broke off to laugh
mirthlessly. 'To see things as they truly are.'

Emotion welled within Hettie. 'Oh, Jack!'

'Still no regrets? About you and I, that is.'

'Never. And don't ever ask me again. You
already know the answer.'

And then he had it. Painful a recollection as
it was. Ten at the ready, Hettie?'

'Of course.'

'Now what was that last line . . . ?'


*


'Kathleen.' The voice was hoarse and very faint.
She started, her attention having wandered.
Tat?'


366

His eyes were open, recognition there. She
quickly grasped his hand and squeezed it.

'What happened?'

'You've been very ill.'

The faintest of smiles played over his mouth.
'I don't know where I was but I often heard you
there.'

'I've been with you as much as I've been
allowed, Pat.'

'Dreams,' he murmured. 'So many dreams.'

'But now you're back with us, Pat. That's all
that matters.' She began to cry.

'Don't, lass. Don't.'

'I can't help it. I'm so happy.'

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened
them again. 'Did I also hear Bridie?'

'Aye you did. She came home to be with
us.'

'I've been that ill?'

Kathleen nodded.

'What was it?'

'They never found out. They couldn't
diagnose you.'

'Difficult as always, eh?'

'That's you, Pat.'

He felt dreadfully weak, and somehow
detached, as though he wasn't even part of
the real world. 'I love you, Kathleen,' he said.

She stared at him.

'I know I've been rotten to you, but that's
over now. I swear it. If I get through this I'll
never be unfaithful to you ever again.'

'Oh Pat,' she whispered.

'I don't know what possessed me. But in my


367


dreams I came to realise what I risked losing.
And, Kathleen, I don't want to lose that. Not
you and me.'

So much emotion was clogging her throat she
couldn't speak.

'Will you forgive me. Please?'

Kathleen nodded.

'Jesus, but I don't deserve you. You're one in
a million, Kathleen Flynn and I the lucky man
whb has you.'

She bent over and kissed him on the mouth,
a mouth dry as parchment. 'I should call the
doctor.'

'Not yet. I want you to myself for a bit. Just
the two of us.'

'All right then.'

He gazed at her, drinking her in. Remembering
the dreams that had been about the pair of them.
Good dreams. Warm dreams. Dreams that had
made him realise how stupid he'd been.


*


He wasn't going to come, Georgina thought in
despair, having been dawdling over her meal
waiting for Andrew to put in an appearance.
Oh well, there had always been the chance he
wouldn't be able to make it, or simply didn't
want to. He of course hadn't been able to
reply to her letter, that would have been far
too risky.

She sipped at her wine, a rather nice Macon.
But the pleasantness of it was lost on her.

'Is madam finding everything satisfactory?'


368

She smiled at the hovering waiter. 'Yes, thank
you. The meal is excellent.'

The waiter bowed and moved away.

For the umpteenth time Georgina glanced
round the dining room of the Saltire Hotel
where she was booked under an assumed name.
There was still no sign of him.

Eventually she finished her main course and
ordered a dessert that she didn't want but which
would give her an excuse to linger longer.

The dessert was a chocolate concoction with
cream on top. Delicious, she thought when she
tasted it. And extremely fattening.

And then suddenly he was there, talking to
the maitre d


*


Andrew glanced up and down the corridor to
ensure he wasn't being observed, then discreetly
tapped on Georgina's door. He smiled, recalling
how she'd let him know which room she was
in by dropping her key as she passed him on
her way out. He, naturally enough, being a
gentleman, had picked it up for her, the only
words passing between them being 'thank you,
sir'. As Georgina had said in her letter, they
had to be most careful. She in particular, as
being a native of Perth she was known to many
people there.

The door opened and he slipped inside. The
door instantly closed again.

'Hello,' he smiled.

'Hello.'


369


He took in the long free-flowing pink silk
negligee she was wearing over a matching
nightdress. She seemed to shimmer in the
light.

'I say,' he murmured appreciatively. 'You look
absolutely ravishing.'

'It was more being ravished that I had in
mind,' she retorted, marvelling at her boldness.

He laughed. 'You certainly don't mince your
words. I like that in a woman.'

She melted into his arms. 'I was so scared
you wouldn't make it, my darling.'

'Well I did and here I am.'

The taut hardness and sheer masculinity of
his body sent shivers coursing up and down
her spine. While the cologne he was wearing
and which she remembered so vividly made her
head swim.

'I laid in a bottle of whisky for you should
you wish a drink,' she said.

'Later I think.'

'Good.'

He lightly ran a hand through her hair, then
down over her shoulders and back, finally letting
it come to rest on the swell of her buttocks.
Georgina moaned.

'You make me go all liquid inside,' she
whispered.

'Do I?'

'Oh yes. A sort of fiery, molten liquid that's
quite indescribable.'

He liked that as well.

'And what do I do to you?'

He nudged her with his groin. 'That.'


370

This time she groaned.

'Why don't I make myself comfortable?' he
suggested.

'Here, let me help you.'

Slowly, starting with his tie, she began
undressing him.

Andrew watched her in amusement, relishing
the power he had over her. A power he'd had
over many women. He'd decided during his
meal what course their lovemaking would take.
He had a few surprises in store for Georgina
Seaton, surprises taught him years previously by
a professional.

When he was finally naked she pressed herself
against him again and began to rub herself up
and down his body.

'Let's get into bed, darling,' she proposed.

'Not yet.'

His hands, which had been motionless while
she had undressed him, started to move.
Touching, caressing, fondling.

In the end, which was what he'd intended,
Georgina was pleading with him to take her.

It was a night to remember.


371



21


Mr Durie, the specialist, straightened up from
Pat's bed, Pat watching him anxiously. There
were two nurses also in attendance.

'You're doing extremely well, Mr Flynn,'
Durie pronounced. 'I'm delighted with your
progress.' He shook his head. 'I only wish I
knew what's been wrong with you but that
remains a medical mystery I'm afraid.'

'Will I get it again, Doctor?'

Durie gave a thin smile. 'I simply can't answer
that. But my guess, and that's all it is, based on
years of professional experience I would point
out, is I don't believe so.'

Pat heaved a sigh of relief. 'When can I go
home?'

'Ah! A good question. Certainly not this week.
I want to keep you in for a while to recuperate
and for observation. How do you feel?'

'Weak,' Pat confessed.

'Natural enough. I wouldn't have expected
anything else after what you've been through.
Any headaches?'

'None, Doctor.'

'And within yourself? Deep down that is.'

Pat considered that. 'The same but different
I suppose.'

'Different?'

Pat dropped his gaze to stare at the bedclothes.
'You'll laugh.'


372

'No I won't, Mr Flynn. I assure you.'

Pat glanced at the two nurses standing po
faced in the background, wishing they weren't
there. They made this more difficult somehow.

'It's as though I've had some sort of religious
experience. I know that sounds daft but there
you have the truth of it.'

Durie smiled. 'Interesting. And something I've
heard said before.'

'Really?'

'Yes, Mr Flynn. It's more common than you
might imagine.'

Durie pondered for a few moments, then
said, 'I'm convinced you're well on the way
to recovery. You're a lucky man.'

Pat thought of Kathleen. Yes, he was a lucky
man and not just to have survived the illness.

Durie picked up Pat's notes from the bottom
of the bed, studied them briefly, then, taking out
a pen, added a few additional comments.

'I'll see you again tomorrow, Mr Flynn,' Durie
declared, replacing the notes.

'Thank you, Doctor.'

'And don't worry. I'll have you home as soon
as possible.'

'Thank you, Doctor.'

'In the meantime try and move your bowels.
You haven't so far.'

Pat blanched. The idea of using a bedpan
was anathema to him. He intended holding out
as long as he could before that humiliation. A
bottle was one thing, but a pan!


373


Bridie was standing at the kitchen window
staring out over the back courts and tenements
that lay beyond. It was odd, she reflected, this
was all she'd known for most of her life and
yet now, somehow, she felt a stranger here.

How dirty it all was, and squalid. She watched
some wee boys playing 'kick the can', the clatter
they were making reverberating round the back
courts. One of the boys had a great tear in the
rearof his shorts so that his bare bottom was
peeping out.

She thought of The Haven and lan Seaton.
Now that her da was on the mend it was high
time for her to return there. She'd leave the
following day, she decided. There was an early
train, she'd catch that.

'lan,' she murmured wistfully.


*


'Is there something wrong with you?'

lan turned to face his sister. 'No, why?'

'You've seemed quite out of sorts recently.'

'Have I?'

'Grumpy to say the least.'

It was because of Bridie he thought. He
couldn't wait to see her again, be in her
company. 'You haven't appeared quite yourself
either.'

Rose immediately became defensive, the
accusation too close to the mark. 'There's
nothing wrong with me that I'm aware of,'
she lied.

'No?'


374

'I'd know if there was.'

He saw the beginnings of a blush tinge her
cheek and arrived at completely the wrong
conclusion -- that it was that time of the
month for her.

'Anyway, I've got things to do,' Rose declared,
and swept from the room.

If lan had been out of sorts on account of
Bridie then she'd been the same way because
of Andrew.

When was she going to see him again,
she inwardly raged as she hurried on her
way?


*


'How's Mr Flynn?' Geraldine Buchanan asked
the coalman who'd taken over Pat's round.

He shook out the bag he'd tipped into her
bin. 'Coming along handsomely from what
I hear.'

Relief washed through her. Thank God for
that. 'Any news of him coming back to work?'

'He won't be doing that for a while, missus,'
the man replied. 'I think I said to you the poor
sod was at death's door. You don't recover from
that overnight.'

'No, of course not.' Geraldine smiled understandingly.
Again the coalman wondered at her concern
for Pat. It seemed odd somehow. More than it
should have been. There again, it was none of
his business. And certainly not to be remarked
on back at the yard.


375


'Thank you, missus,' he said on giving
Geraldine her change.	,

As she'd done on his previous visit, Geraldine
poured herself a large drink when the man
had gone.


*


'Bridie?'

Arid there he was, at long last. 'Hello.'

'How's your father?' lan queried anxiously.

'Recovering, I'm happy to say. He's hoping
to get home before too long.'

'When did you get in?'

'Late last night.'

'I see.'

He found himself staring deep into her eyes,
eyes that were attracting him as though he was
a piece of iron being drawn to a magnet.

'I missed you.'

That startled Bridie. 'Did you?'

lan was suddenly covered in confusion. 'Yes,'
he whispered.

And how she'd missed him, dreadfully so.
'How's Miss McLaren?'

'Moira? She's fine. Why do you ask?'

Bridie shrugged. 'I don't know.'	jl

He hadn't heard the jealousy in her voice 
before, now he did. Could it be ... co.uld it
possibly be?

'I went there on Sunday as usual.'

Bridie's face tightened slightly. 'Did you have
a good time?'

He had and he hadn't. It had been pleasant


376

enough, though, if he was truthful, boring.
Moira had chattered endlessly on.

lan shrugged. 'I suppose so.'

Suppose so? What kind of answer was that?
'I must be getting along,' Bridie declared. 'I've
a lot to do.'

'Of course. Don't let me keep you.'

lan wheeled around and walked quickly off
leaving Bridie staring after him.


*


'More wine?'

Moira McLaren shook her head. 'Not for me,
lan, thank you. I really have had sufficient.'

lan refilled his glass and then lay back
to stare at a beautiful summer sky. He and
Moira were having a picnic by the Coothie
Burn which ran through the estate. She was
resplendent in a white cotton dress, perfect
for the occasion, and large, floppy-brimmed,
straw hat.

'Do you remember my cousin Elspeth White?'
Moira inquired casually. 'I'm sure you've met
her.'

lan had to think for a moment. 'Oh yes.'

'She got engaged last week.'

'Good for her,' lan smiled.

'To a veterinary surgeon she only met quite
recently. It was love at first sight apparently.'

lan closed his eyes, enjoying the sun beating
down on him. He yawned. 'Excuse me.'

Moira tinkled out a laugh. 'That's all right.'

'It really is the most soporific day. If I'm not


377


careful I'll fall asleep.'

She frowned. 'Not with me here I hope you
won't.'

He immediately came on to an elbow. 'Sorry,
that must have sounded awful. It's simply that
between the combination of heat and wine I find
myself wanting to drop off. Nothing to do with
you, Moira, I assure you.'
That mollified her a little.
'Imust say you look gorgeous today,' he
declared.

'Why, thank you, kind sir.'
She did too, he thought. Crackingly so. Any
man would be proud to have her as his girl
friend. He had another sip of wine and listened
to the drone of bees.

Moira studied lan. 'Elspeth is two years
younger than me, you know.'
'Is that a fact?'

'And now she's engaged to be married. I quite
envy her really.'

Moira continued to watch lan's face.
A sudden chill thought came into lan's mind.
This wasn't just making conversation. Moira was
hinting that they too should get engaged. He said
nothing.

'I understand he's bought her the most
beautiful ring.'

lan continued not to reply.
'The wedding is set for next year in the
spring. And he's hinted to her that they'll go
abroad for the honeymoon. Imagine!' Moira
sighed.

'How romantic.'


378

'Yes, isn't it,' lan replied quietly.

'I'd love to go abroad for my honeymoon.'

lan's heart was sinking fast. What had been
a very pleasant afternoon had suddenly gone
extremely flat. He sipped more wine.

'It'll be a big wedding of course, hundreds
there. I wonder if she'll buy a dress or have
one made.'

'You must ask her.'

'Oh I will. I shall certainly have my wedding
dress made, and those for the bridesmaids.'

lan swallowed the remains of his glass and
refilled it. 'I sometimes fish in this burn,' he
stated, changing the subject. 'I've caught some
marvellous trout in it.'

Moira's forehead creased. 'Have you indeed.'

'Oh yes.'

'I've never understood what men see in
fishing. It seems quite boring to me.'

'Tranquil more like. For much of the time.
And then a lot of excitement when you get a
bite, not to mention land your fish.'

'Paris I should think,' Moira declared defiantly.

'Paris?'

'For the honeymoon. You can't get more
romantic than that.'

'I don't suppose you can,' lan replied vaguely.

'I've heard such a lot about Paris. The Left
Bank, that sort of thing.'

lan thought of Bridie, the woman he loved.
What a situation to find himself in. A situation
he had to do something about if he was to retain
his sanity.

Moira's lips thinned. 'Wouldn't you like to


379


go to Paris? I believe the food is out of this
world.'


'France has never really attracted me lan
replied.

'No? How peculiar.'

He briefly closed his eyes. Decisions were
going to have to be made soon. And they
weren't going to be easy ones.

'I think we should be getting back he said
briskly., coming to his feet.

Her disappointment clearly showed. 'So soon?'

'We have been here a good while.'

'But I was enjoying myself.'

As had he, until she'd started on about
engagements and marriages. He'd been prepared
to stay for several hours more until that had
started. Talk about putting a dampener on
the day.

'lan.'

'Yes?'

'Come here.'

Christ, he thought. She wasn't going to let
up. 'What for?'


Anger flitted across her face. 'Because I'm
asking you to.'

He tried not to show his reluctance as he went
to her. 'Now what can I do for you?' he queried,
taking her in his arms. Hypocrite, he thought to I
himself.

'You could kiss me for a start.'

'Now that would be a pleasure.'

'Are you sure?'


He managed a smile. 'Of course. Isn't it
always?'


380

Their lips met and he felt nothing. Nothing

at all.

'Hmmh,' he murmured when it was over.

She raised a hand and traced it across his
cheek. 'Is something wrong?'

'Why should there be?'

'I'm not sure. You don't seem particularly
enthusiastic, that's all.'

'No?'

'Or is it my imagination?'

'Your imagination, Moira. A man can't be
at white heat all the time you know. It's not
like that.'

'I thought . . . ' She trailed off.

'What?'

'We have been seeing each other for some
time.'

He laughed softly. 'Hardly that. A little while
perhaps.'

'You do like me, don't you?'

'Why would you be here if I didn't? Of course
I do.'

'We get on so well together.'

Again he thought of Bridie. That extra
something that was there when he was with
her. That something which excited him in a
way Moira never had.

'Yes,' he murmured.

Her doubts disappeared. 'I'm so fond of you,
lan. Truly I am.'

Fond, now there was a word. There again,
he'd never declared feelings stronger than that
to her so why should she to him?

'And I of you, Moira.'


381


He kissed her a second time, then disentangled
himself. Til pack up.'


Moira never took her eyes off him while
he was doing that. He was acutely aware of
her stare.


*


Sean barged into the pub and beckoned the
barman over. 'A pint and a hauf,' he said
tightly.	i

God but he needed a drink, a bucketful of
the stuff. He'd had another failure back at 'the
place'. A smashing wee lassie called Babs whom
he'd picked up a fortnight previously.

He'd got her stripped and into bed, then
set to. Except, as with Muriel, nothing had
happened. Not a bloody thing.

He stared down at the counter, wondering
what was wrong with him. Why? The question
raged in his mind. Why! Why! Why!

'There you are, Jimmy,' the barman declared,
placing his drinks in front of him.

Sean tossed a pound note on to the counter.
Then, in one quick motion, he swallowed his
whisky.


She'd had a lovely body too, beautiful tits,
even better than Muriel. And she'd been keen,
no problem there. He'd thought at ojie point
she was going to devour him. So why hadn't
he reacted as he should have done?

An awful thought came into his mind, one
that both shocked and alarmed him.

Don't be stupid, he told himself. Nah! There


382


was nothing of the nancy boy about him. He'd
never fancied men, the very idea made him want
to throw up.

A chap came to stand beside Sean, accidentally
nudging him. Sean immediately rounded on
the chap with a snarl. 'What's your fucking
game, eh?'

Alarm flashed on to the chap's face. 'Sorry,
I didn't mean it. Honest. I apologise.'

For a moment Sean considered having a go
at the chap, giving him a seeing to, then thought
the better of it. The bloke had apologised after
all. You couldn't ask fairer than that.

He took a deep breath. 'Think no more about
it, pal.'

The chap nodded, his relief obvious, wishing
he'd never come into that particular pub or been
so clumsy. There was that about Sean which he
found extremely menacing. Once he'd paid for
his drink he moved away to a table at the far
side out of harm's way.

Sean was thinking again about Babs and
worrying about himself. Afterwards he'd put
the frighteners on her as he had on Muriel.
She'd keep her yap shut knowing what would
happen to her if she didn't.

Why, he asked himself for the umpteenth
time?

Why?


*


Pat sighed. 'I can't tell you how good it is to
be home.'


383


'Come on, get yourself sat down. Remember
the doctor told you you've still got to get plenty
of rest.'	
Pat allowed Kathleen to assist him to his
favourite chair and sank gratefully into it. 'I
know we came by ambulance and all I had
to do was get into it and then climb the stairs
when we arrived but it hasn't half taken it out
of me,' he declared in a weak voice. ,
v 'Well, you've been lying in bed all this while
so what do you expect?' Kathleen rubbed her
hands together. 'Now how about a nice cup of
tea? The sort you can stand a spoon up in.'
'That would be terrific.'
He watched her as she filled the kettle and
put it on. Truly it was good to be home, that
was no lie. To be home with Kathleen.

The outside door banged shut and Scan came
in. 'I thought we'd got shot of you for ever,' he
joked.


'No such luck I'm afraid, son.'
Sean studied his father. 'You look like shit.'
'Sean!' Kathleen admonished. 'Language
please.'

'Sorry, Ma. But he does.'

Pat ran a hand over his face. He knew exactly
what he looked like and Sean was right. But time
would deal with that.


'You never once came to see me,' .Pat said
to Sean.


'Don't like hospitals. They give me the creeps.
Ma kept me informed of your progress.'
Pat didn't press the point, he knew better.
'What's for dinner?' Sean queried.


384


'Lamb chops. A special treat for your da.'
Pat raised an eyebrow. 'They're expensive.'
Kathleen glanced at Sean, then at her

husband. 'I did mention Scan's been giving

me extra. Well it's been quite a bit extra recently.

We can afford them.'

Sean gave a thin, almost wicked, smile.

'That's what comes of being a success in the

world, eh?'

Pat refrained from commenting on that, well

aware where Sean's money was coming from.

He didn't approve, not one little bit.
Pat suddenly felt old. Old as could be.


*


'Kathleen?'

'What, Pat?'

They'd just gone to bed together.

'I want to say something.'

She didn't reply.

'I really do love you, Kathleen. I told you
in the hospital and I meant it. Can we start
again?'

'What about her?' Kathleen queried in a tight
voice.

'I said, it's over. I'll only see her one more
time and that's to finish it between us.' On
returning to work he intended asking for his
round to be changed. That would make it easier
if he didn't have to deliver Geraldine's coal any
more.

Pat put an arm round Kathleen and gently
pulled her close. 'I'm not up to ... well you


385



 


know what. But can we just cuddle?'

She turned to face him and they embraced.
'It'll be just like it used to be,' he whispered.
'Only better. I swear.'

A warmth of contentment welled through
Kathleen. Contentment and peace.

'When I'm up and about properly I want to
go and take confession Pat said. 'I want to do
so very badly.'
I'm delighted to hear that.'
'And I'll have a special word with Father
O'Banion. I want him to know everything's
fine between us again and also ask him about
those dreams I had while in the coma.'
'Father O'Banion will be pleased.'
'Aye, he will.'

'Now get some sleep, Pat, you need it.'
'It'll be the best night's sleep I've had since it
happened. And you know why? Because you'll
be beside me.'

Everything had come right again, Kathleen
reflected. Surely nothing as bad as Pat's affair
and illness would ever blight their lives in the
future.
Surely.


*


'So tell me about your book,' Andrew.said to
Jack, as they enjoyed their weekly visit to the
pub. 'I haven't asked you for a while.'

Jack shrugged. 'As always Hettie thinks it's
fine. That's all I can say.'

'Well, I'm sure she's right.'


386



Andrew gazed about him. The pub was
quieter than usual and he wondered why that
was. It was a beautiful evening outside, the dying
sun ablaze on the horizon.

He turned his attention back to Jack. 'I shall
be expecting a free copy when it's published you
know.'

Jack smiled, 'it is published.'

'I'm sure it will be. You're a natural when it
comes to writing, Jack. You've proved that.'

'Plays perhaps, but a novel?'

Jack had a sip from his pint. 'If it is published
I'm going to dedicate it to your brother Peter.
We were great pals he and I.'

Andrew glanced down at the table. He and
Peter had never been the best of friends, in fact
they'd quite disliked one another. 'That's nice,'
he replied.

'One day I'll visit his grave 'over there'. I'd
like that.'

'You'll pull the novel off if I know you,
Jack.'

Jack sighed. 'I wish I had as much faith in
myself as you and Hettie have in me. You're
pillars of support.'

'And rightly so in my opinion.'

'She's a gem that girl. A real gem,' Jack said
in a soft, loving voice.

'She is indeed. As I've said in the past, I envy
you. In the nicest way of course.'

'And as I've often said to you in the past,
Andrew, you should get married. You don't
want to be rattling around in that big house
all by yourself. It's positively unhealthy.'


387


'That's what Charlotte says. She's always
going on at me about the same thing.' ,

'And she's right. As am I.' Jack paused, then
said, 'What about Rose Seaton?'

'What about her?'

'Exactly, what about her?'

'Jack, you know I've been sleeping with her
stepmother.'


'Which I heartily disapprove of as you're
aware.'


'I disapprove of it myself. But there we
are.'


'There's something you're not telling me,
Andrew. I can hear it in your voice.'

'Can you indeed.'

'Oh yes. So what is it?'

'Her age, Jack, and the fact she's Willie's
daughter puts any relationship out of the
question.'

'Scruples, eh? Georgina being Willie's wife
didn't stop you there,' Jack commented drily.

Andrew blanched. 'That's below the belt.'

'As no doubt what you two get up to when
alone together.'

Andrew had to laugh at that.

'Well?'

Andrew decided to confide in Jack. 'Do you
remember the last time I went to The Haven, the Seatons' house?'

'I recall.'


'Well, Rose and I went out riding, just the pair
of us, during which she near as damnit proposed
to me. Or, to put it another way, tried to get me
to propose.'


388


Now it was Jack's turn to laugh. 'Did she
really!'

'She's serious, Jack, believe me.'

'Oh I do, I do. And?'

'And nothing. I wasn't having any.'

'Pity,' Jack mused. 'I have a hunch, and it's
only that, she'd be ideal for you.'

'Nonsense. Besides, I don't want people
thinking of me as a dirty old man.'

'But you are, Andrew, you are. And always
have been. If not old by our standards then
certainly dirty.'

Andrew grinned. Til take that as a compliment.'

'Take it any way you like. It's true.'

There was a hiatus between them, then Jack
said, 'I think you should reconsider the whole
matter of Rose.'

'And Georgina?'

'She's already married. Regardless of what's
passed between you, leave it that way.'

'Well, I certainly have no intention of trying
to pinch her off Willie.'

'There you are then.'

Til get another round in,' Andrew stated, and
crossed to the bar.

When he returned the subject of Rose and the
Seatons was mentioned no more.


389



22


Bridie laid down the book she'd been attempting
to read. This was the second book she'd
borrowed from Miss Rose that had failed to
engage her attention.

Not that there was anything wrong with the
books. She simply couldn't get into them and
that was that.

She ran a hand over her face and gave a soft
sigh. What was wrong with her? This had never
happened in the past. Books, any book, had
been devoured. Especially those with a romantic
flavour as this and the last one had.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment.,
then opened them again. She knew what the
trouble was, of course she did. Fiction didn't
grip her any more because of reality. In other
words, lan.

Her shining knight no longer existed on
the page but in the very house where she
lived. Printer's ink had given way to flesh and
blood.

'Sir lan of Seaton,' she murmured, and
shivered. Her own knight in real life.

Well, almost her knight, for there could never
be anything between them. But how wonderful
to pretend there might.

Jeannie Swanson snorted in her sleep which
made Bridie smile. Dear Jeannie, what good
friends they'd become. She'd have loved to


390

confide in Jeannie, but that was impossible.
Her love for lan was her secret and would have
to remain so.

Strangely, though it had been a hard day,
she wasn't tired. Sleep would be a long time
in coming.

'lan,' she said, and shivered again. There
would never be another love in her life, she
was convinced of that. She was one of those
people who fall in love once and once only.

Perhaps she should try for another position,
she thought. Already knowing she wouldn't.
She'd stay as close to lan as she possibly could
for as long as she could.

Moira McLaren, now there was the lucky one.
The lass whom lan would eventually marry.
What she'd have given to be in Moira's shoes.
Anything, absolutely anything.

She closed her eyes again, remembering
how he'd kissed her, and what she'd felt.
Heaven come to earth that had been. Sheer
unadulterated bliss.

She laid the book aside and snuffed out the
candle flickering by her bedside, plunging the
room into darkness.



When she finally did fall asleep it was to
dream, as she'd known she would, of lan
Seaton.

*


Willie was standing at a window watching Rose
riding in the distance. The lassie must be mad,
he thought. She was riding like one demented.


391


f she wasn't careful she was going to come an
awful cropper.


He bit his lip, wondering why it was she'd
been so strange of late. And strange she'd
certainly been. Moody for a start, and petulant.
Taken to abruptly leaving their company for
no apparent reason or excuse. It was worrying,
extremely so.


He'd speak to her, he decided. It was long
overdue. Or should he have Georgina do that?
She might be better suited to the task than
him.


No, he'd do it. He was her father after
all. As such perhaps he could get through
to her.


Willie took out his cigarettes and lit up,
inhaling deeply. Part of the problem was she
didn't have a boyfriend. Though why that should
be so he couldn't think. She was pretty enough,
and personable. You would have thought she'd
have caught some lad's eye.

Of course living on the estate didn't help,
though there were always a number of opportunities
for her to socialise with her own kind.

Only the previous week she'd received an
invitation to a summer ball which, to his
amazement and annoyance, she'd turned down
saying she wasn't really all that interested.
You'd have thought, being young and healthy,
she'd have grabbed the chance. But no, not
Rose. She'd elected to stay at home that
evening. Was she ill in some way? Could
that be it? If she was it certainly didn't show.
If anything she was the picture of rude health.


392


1


1



ISo what was it? For it seemed to him
something had to be wrong. Perhaps a holiday
might do the trick. Though, on reflection, he
could hardly send her on her own. Rose and
Georgina together? No, he wouldn't do that. He
didn't want Georgina being away for the length
of a holiday.

He knew he was being selfish in wanting
Georgina to be with him, but that's how
it was.

He'd think of something. And in the
meantime have a chat with her, a heart
to heart. See if he could find out what
was what.


*


lan glanced at his alarm clock, and groaned.
Ten minutes past two and he still couldn't
sleep. All to do with Bridie of course, he
simply couldn't get her out ofiis mind. She
was haunting him.

Every time he saw her about the house it was
as if his heart stopped. An exaggeration? No,
that was exactly what it was like.

Bridie Flynn, housemaid. The girl he'd fallen
head over heels for.

'Shit,' he swore.

The thing was, should he do something or
not? He was going to look a proper idiot
if he made a play for her and she rejected
him.

There again, why make a play in the first
place? To what end? There wasn't one.


393



I



'Damn he muttered, and started striding up
and down.


It had become a joke between Moira and
himself. At least on his part. She was still as
keen as ever.


Fond, she'd said. And didn't that just about
sum it all up. He was fond of her, and she of
him. But what basis was that for a marriage? _
Not nearly enough in his opinion. Though he I
knew there were those who would have disagreed
with that.


Moira was certainly beautiful, that was beyond
dispute. And of a pleasant nature, again beyond
dispute. But what chance would they have
together when he was in love with another
woman? Precious little in his opinion.

There it was then, he was going to have to
break it off with Moira. There wasn't anything
else he could honourably do.


Pa would be disappointed to say the least.
Willie had set his heart on their union. As
indeed had Georgina.


But damn it all, it was his life and he had
to do what he considered right. And marrying
Moira McLaren wasn't. Not by a long chalk.

That decision taken he felt a whole lot better.
He'd do what had to be done the following
Sunday when he visited the McLarens, then
tell Willie and Georgina afterwards.

He felt as though a great weight had been
lifted from his shoulders. Atlas without the
world bowing him down could not have felt
more free.

He wondered what Bridie wore in bed, and


394


how she looked when fast asleep. He also
wondered . . .

He pulled his dressing-gown more tightly
about him as he continued pacing. Although
it was summer the night was chill.

He wondered if there would be a row with his
pa when he announced his news. Probably, he
decided gloomily. He'd have a couple of swift
drams before the encounter.

Willie would try to dissuade him, no doubt
about it. But he'd stick to his guns. It was
over between him and Moira McLaren, he was
determined about that.

And God knows how she'd take it. He could
expect tears and probably a tantrum. Not
something he was looking forward to. Not in
the least.


*


Andrew stared at the letter, recognising the
handwriting. No doubt Georgina was trying to
set up another tryst.

He discovered he was correct on reading the
two sheets of scented notepaper the envelope
contained. Willie was going to London on
business and various personal matters for a
week. Why didn't he drop by during that
time, pretending to be unaware that Willie
was absent, and stay the night? Or better
still, longer. The tone of the letter was a
pleading one.

Andrew laid the notepaper in front of him,
then rocked back in his chair.


395



It would be easy for him to get away sometime
during the dates mentioned,, and another session,
or sessions, with the lovely Georgina certainly
appealed.

And then there was Rose.


*


Bridie was halfway down the stairs carrying a
tray, Miss Rose having decided to have breakfast
in her room, when it happened.

Somehow she slipped and, uttering a startled
cry, went tumbling downstairs, the tray and
breakfast things flying everywhere. She landed
at the foor of the stairs with a jarring thump,
banging her head in the process. For the space
of a few moments she lost consciousness.

lan heard the cry and, not knowing who'd
made it or why, dashed to help. 'Christ!' he
swore when he saw it was Bridie.

He swiftly knelt beside her as she was coming
round. 'Oh, my poor darling,' he said. 'Are you
hurt?'

Darling? She hazily wondered at that.

lan grasped her under the arms and hauled
her into a sitting position. 'Can you hear me,
Bridie? Have you broken anything?'

'I...!...' She broke off, confused. Broken
anything? She didn't know.

'Oh darling Bridie,' he whispered in concern.
'You must be all right. Please say you are.'

There it was again, darling. What was going
on? 'I think ... I think . . . Dizzy, that's all.'

'Let me check you for broken bones.'


396


II

He gently felt first one leg, then the other.
'Nothing amiss there,' he declared when there
was no reaction from her.

He did the same thing again with her arms,
hastily removing his hand when she suddenly
yelped.

Bridie gingerly rubbed the spot. 'It's just
bruising. I'm certain of it.'

She flexed the arm. 'See. I must have landed
on this one.'

'What happened?'

She grinned sheepishly. 'I wasn't paying
attention to where I was going and the next
thing I was doing a flying act.'

He smiled back at her. 'Can you stand?'

'I'll try.'

He assisted her upright where she swayed on
the spot. 'Everything's going round and round,'
she whispered.

'It's bed for you, my girl.'

'But my duties!' Bridie protested.

'Bother those! Someone else can do them.
It's up to your bed and then I'll send for the
doctor.'

'Oh you can't do that, lan.'

'But I can, and will. No can't about it. Is
everything still going round and round?'

'Yes. Only not as badly as it was.'

'Try to walk. And don't worry, I'll be holding
you.'

They gradually made it up the stairs and
eventually to her bedroom. 'That gave me ever
such a fright,' she stated.

'I'm not surprised. You were fortunate not to


397


have broken anything.'

'I really don't need the doctor, lan.',
'Yes you do. And I'll have no more argument.
Now you can get yourself into bed. I hardly
think it proper I help you with that.'
She felt her face colour. 'No.'
'I'll root out Jeannie Swanson and send her to
you. In the meantime you stay here. Right?'

'Right,' she agreed meekly, thinking how
masterful he was. She liked that.


'I'll be off then. But back later to see how
you are.'

'Thank you, lan.'

He couldn't help himself, the urge was
overwhelming. Bending, he tenderly kissed her
on the forehead.


Bridie stared wonderingly after him as he
hurried from the room.


*


'Well?' lan demanded the moment the doctor
emerged.


Dr Duthie was an old man close to retirement,
his hair white tinged with yellow, as was his thick
moustache. lan was one of the countless children
he'd delivered into the world.

'There's nothing to worry about,' Duthie
pronounced. 'She's got a wee bit concussion
that'll give her a headache for a day or two.
But apart from that she's right as rain.'

lan gave an exhalation of relief. Thank God
for that! 'Thank you, Doctor. If you'll just send
in your bill as usual.'


398


Duthie's eyes twinkled. 'Oh aye, I'll do that
all right, lan. You can count on it.'
Both men laughed.


*


'Come in!' Bridie called out some minutes later
when there was a tap on her door.

lan entered. 'The doctor says you've got a
headache.'

'It's not too bad. I'll survive.'

He saw now what she wore in bed. A plain
nightdress without frills or fripperies of any kind.
It became her.

'You've been very kind,' she said, a puzzled
frown on her face.

'Think nothing of it.'

'Jeannie came and got me changed as you can
see. She was terribly upset.'

Not nearly as much as he'd been, lan thought.
Why, Bridie could have been killed. A broken
neck could easily have been on the cards. It
didn't bear thinking about.

'I've spoken to Mrs Coltart,' he stated. 'Who
was extremely sympathetic. You're to stay off
until you feel up to resuming work.'

'Thank you.'

'Don't mention it.'

Unable to hold his gaze, quivering inside,
Bridie glanced away.

'Right,' said lan. Til get on. I've got lots to
do today. But I will call back again this evening.
Just to see how you are.'

'You mustn't trouble yourself,' she protested.


399


'It's no trouble, Bridie. None at all.'

The quivering was increasing in t intensity.

'Fine then she mumbled.
He cleared his throat, desperately wanting

to remain but of course that was impossible.

'Goodbye for now he said, a slight choke in

his throat.

'Goodbye, Jan.'


He hesitated for another moment, then
abruptly left.

I

*

i!

He could hear them, Scan thought. He could 
actually hear them. The bitch was shouting so loudly she might have been an animal being
slaughtered.


'Sounds like Mo's giving her a right old
slagging,' Bobby O'Toole sniggered.


Dan Smith lit a cigarette then blew a perfect
smoke ring at the ceiling. 'I wish it was me in
there.'


The too,' Bill O'Connell nodded.
Scan closed his eyes. He'd always got on well
with Mo Binchy, the pair of them were good
chinas. But right then he hated the bastard.
'Are you all right, Scan?'
Scan opened his eyes again and stared at Jim
Gallagher. 'Aye, fine. Why?'
'You look a bit odd.'

Scan could just imagine it. Mo on top, the
girl squirming beneath, her face contorted with
passion. Mo doing to her what he couldn't. A
hard core of anger erupted inside him, anger at


400


himself and his inadequacy.

Scan jumped to his feet. 'I fancy a pint.
Anyone else coming?'

'You don't have to ask twice,' Dan Smith
replied getting out of his chair.

The lassie, Scan hadn't caught her name, gave
a great cry of exultation and pleasure.

'Bloody hell!' Bill O'Connell exclaimed,
turning to face the wall beyond which was
the bedroom where the couple were.

Scan strode quickly from the room and house.
He'd had enough. More than enough.


*


'Hello again,' lan smiled. He was holding a large
bunch of flowers from the garden.

'Are those for me?'

'They are indeed. Like them?'

'Oh yes,' she breathed. No one had ever given
her flowers before. She was thrilled to bits.

lan crossed and gave them to her. 'Jeannie
can put them in something when she comes up
later.'

Bridie sniffed the flowers. 'They smell
gorgeous.'

'I picked them myself.' He looked about him.
'They might help brighten up this room a little.
It's somewhat dingy to say the least.'

Bridie laid the flowers on the bed beside
her.

'So how are you feeling now?'

'A lot better.'

'And the headache?'


401



'Not as bad as it was. I shall return to work
tomorrow.'	


lan frowned. 'You'll do no such thing. That
was a terrible fall you took. You'll stay in bed
for another day anyway and no arguing.'


'But . . . ' She broke off when he held up
a hand.


'Those are orders, Bridie. You'll remain in
bed.'


Again she thought how masterful he was. 'If
you say so, lan.'
'I do.'


She glanced down at the bedclothes. 'It's very
good of you to come and visit me again. I just
hope it doesn't cause the rest of the staff to
gossip. You know what it's like.'


lan hadn't thought of that. Hmmh, he
mentally mused.

'lan?'

'What?'

'Can I ask you something?'

'Of course,' he beamed.

Bridie took a deep breath. This was hard. She
only hoped she wasn't about to make a fool of
herself. 'Why did you call me darling?'

That both startled and confused him. 'Did I?'
He knew damn well he had but was pretending
innocence.

'Twice. At the bottom of the stairs.' .

He turned away so she couldn't see his
expression. A word sprang to mind, the word
Moira had used. 'You must know I'm fond of
you, Bridie. Very fond indeed.'

She allowed a few seconds to elapse before


402


saying, 'And you kissed me. In here.'

Should he confess, confide in her? He
couldn't. He simply couldn't. 'Can you keep
a secret, for now anyway?' he queried, noting
that his voice was shaking a little.

'If you wish.'

'Until Sunday that is. Then everyone will
know.'

'You have my promise, lan. Whatever you tell
me is strictly between the pair of us.'

How adorable she looked, he thought. He
wanted to take her in his arms, hold her, breathe
in her scent, kiss her.

'I shall be breaking it off with Moira McLaren
this Sunday. She and I are finished.'

Bridie's eyes opened wide. 'But why? She's so
beautiful, lan.'

'That's as may be. I certainly can't deny it.
But . . . Well she just isn't right for me.'

'I see.'

'Moira and I would be a mistake. For a while
I thought differently. But now I know better.'

Bridie was rocked by this news. As everyone
else in the house was, she had been convinced
lan and Moira would get married. She didn't know what to think.

'What will your father say?'

lan gave a wry smile. 'He won't be best
pleased. He had his heart set on the union. As
indeed did my stepmother.'
' 'When will you tell them?'

'Sunday evening after dinner.'

'I don't envy you.'

He barked out a short laugh. 'I don't envy


403


myself. All in all it should be quite a day.'

Bridie knew she shouldn't ask,, t?ut she
couldn't help herself. 'Is there . . . someone
else?'


Oh Lord, he thought. He didn't want to lie
to Bridie, but how could he possibly tell her
the truth? 'Yes,' he admitted, surprising himself
with his honesty.


Bridie stared at him. 'Would I know her?'
Yes,' lan said very softly.
The quivering she'd experienced earlier
returned. Don't be stupid, she told herself.
It couldn't be her. Though if only . . .


'You still haven't said why you called me
darling,' Bridie mumbled.


lan took a deep breath, then another. It had
been wrong to come here, dreadfully wrong. If
he wasn't careful he was going to compromise
himself. It would have been different if she
hadn't been a housemaid, a working-class lass
from Glasgow. And yet, despite all that, the
truth remained. He loved her.

'I'd best be going,' he declared abruptly. 'I'm
glad you like the flowers.' 'As I said, they're gorgeous.'
'And no work tomorrow,' he said sternly. 'I
shall be furious if you even attempt it.'


'I won't, lan. And your secret's safe with
me.'

'Goodnight then, Bridie.'


Their eyes held. 'Goodnight, lan. I shall be
thinking about you on Sunday and hoping it all
goes well.'

'Thank you.'


404


He didn't want to leave. That was the last
thing he wanted. What he did want was to stay
with Bridie. Not just then, but for ever.

The door snicked shut behind him.


*


lan's face was hard as stone when he left the
McLarens. What he'd just endured was far worse
than he'd imagined.

Moira had been bad enough, but her mother,
Delphine! That had been a nightmare. Her
verbal abuse was still ringing in his ears.

He desperately needed a drink. No, more
than one, several to restore his equilibrium.
He'd never forget Moira clinging to him as
though that would change his mind. Or the
pure venom in Delphine's eyes when she'd been
told the news.

He didn't dare glance back in case Moira
was at a window which he suspected she
might be.


*


'What!' Willie exclaimed, coming to his feet
from the chair he'd just sat in moments before.

They were in Willie's den where he had
requested they retire. The den was hardly used
by Willie nowadays and hadn't been since he'd
married Georgina, Willie much preferring her
company to being on his own.

'Broken it off, Pa.'

'But why for God's sake?'


405



'We weren't right together., Pa. It wouldn't
have worked.'


'Stuff and nonsense Willie snorted. 'You
made a lovely couple.'
lan sighed. 'Can I help myself to a dram?'
Willie waved a hand. 'Do as you please.'
'You, Pa?'
'May as well.'


lan crossed to the decanter and glasses sitting
al;pp a bookcase.


'He poured out and handed his father a stiff
measure. 'There you are.'

'I don't understand. I really don't.'

'Let me put it this way. Pa, how did you feel
about Mother when you married?'

Willie studied his son. 'Go on.'

'Were you in love with her?'

Willie's expression softened. 'Very much so.'

'That's how I want to be when I wed. In love with a woman who's equally in love
with me.'


Willie's expression softened even further. 'I
understand.'


'I don't love Moira, Pa, and never will. Nor
does she love me.'

'Did she say that?'


lan shook his head. 'She didn't have to. I just
knew. I was a good match. Pa, and that's a
very different thing from love. Oh, we might
have rubbed along together but what sort of life
is that?'

Willie didn't reply.


'You've been lucky, twice. First with Mother
and then with Georgina.'


406


'Yes,' Willie agreed, nodding slightly. 'I
certainly have been.'

lan saw off his dram and went to pour himself
another. He wondered where Bridie was in the
house and what she was doing. In the kitchen
probably, he decided, with the staff having
their meal.

'She's very beautiful, lan.'

'Indeed she is. But I've learned a few things
along the way, Pa, and one is that beauty isn't
everything. Far from it. Don't you agree?'

Willie regarded his son with new respect.
'I do.'

'Moira's rather shallow which isn't what I
want at all. She'd bore the pants off me before
long as sure as eggs are eggs.'

Willie smiled. 'Possibly.'

'There's no possibly about it, Pa. Take
Georgina for instance, whatever anyone may
think of her she's hardly boring. She certainly
seems to keep you on your toes and up to
scratch.'

'I can't disagree with that,' Willie commented
wryly.

'And another thing, they say look at the
mother and see how the girl is going to turn out.
Well, I saw a side of Delphine McLaren today
that I thought most distasteful. You should have
heard her, voice hard as iron, almost spitting like
a snake.'

Willie laughed. 'Delphine does have a reputation
for having a bit of a temper.'

'Bit of one! I'd call it a lot more than that.'

'And getting what she wants. You put a spoke


407



in her wheel which she wouldn't have liked, or
appreciated, at all.'

'You can say that again.'
'Georgina will be disappointed,' Willie mused.
'She was as much for this as me.'

'I'm sorry about that. But I won't be changing
my mind as far as Moira McLaren is concerned.
And that's final.'


'I believe you, son,' Willie replied quietly,
gillie thought of his first wife Mary, and
Georgina. lan was quite right. Marriage without
love wasn't worth the candle.


408


23


Sean was doing the rounds collecting protection
money, and very nicely the gang was doing too.
Every month saw an increase in their take, with
that little bit extra, which they were unaware of,
to him.

He was coming out of a greengrocer's when
Sammy Renton came hurrying up.

'Hey, Sean!'

Sammy's face was flushed and he was gasping
for breath when he stopped beside Sean. 'I've
been looking for you everywhere. Have you
heard?'

Sean frowned. 'Heard what?'

'Wee Pete Murray's fallen foul of the Long.'
Pete was one of the younger members of the
Samurai, a lad no more than fifteen.

'How do you mean, fallen foul?'

'A number of them set on him and gave him a
hell of a beating. He's been taken to hospital.'

Sean immediately thought of Big Bill Bremner.
'What did Pete do?'

'The stupid bugger was in their territory when
they grabbed him for being there. They dragged
him into a close and that was that. He didn't
have a chance.'

Pete should have known better, Sean thought.
'How bad is he?'

'Pretty bad. They gave him a right kicking.'

'Was he marked?'


409


Sammy shook his head. 'Nothing like that,
just a kicking. What are we going to d9?'
'You mean in retaliation?' 'Aye, that's right.'

Scan took a deep breath. This needed thinking
about. And seriously. 'Tonight at eight. We'll
meet at 'the place'. Pass the word.'
Til do that, Scan.'
'Which hospital?'
*The Southern General.'
'I'll go and see him.'

Sammy beamed. 'He'd appreciate that. Scan.
He thinks you're the next thing to God.'

Scan tried not to show the pleasure that
statement gave him. Next thing to God! Wasn't
that something.

'Eight o'clock,' he repeated.
'Aye, Scan. I'll pass the word.'
'Now off you go. I've got things to do.'
Scan's next port of call was a pub where he sat
in a corner ruminating. Was there more to this
than appeared on the surface? He wasn't sure.


i


*


'We can't let this go,' declared Don McGuire
hotly. 'The Long would think us a bunch of
Jessies.'


'Aye, we should give one of their lot the same
treatment,' said Noddy Gallagher.

'I'm not so certain about that,' murmured
Jim, Noddy's brother.

Sean focused on Jim. 'Why so?'

'The stupid bastard shouldn't have been where


410


he was. He knows the rules and broke them.'

Sean nodded. 'I agree.'

'They'll still think we're a bunch of Jessies,'
Don repeated.

Brainpower wasn't exactly one of Don's assets,
Sean reflected. Don was a hothead through and
through.

'Mo?'

'There's hundreds of them. What could we
do except get massacred? It would be four to
one if not more.'

Bill O'Connell was in a blue funk about
taking on the Long. He was fervently praying
this would come to nothing.

'Pete's got internal injuries,' Sean said quietly.
'There's even the possibility he might die.'

Bill blanched. Holy Mary Mother of God!

'And what if he does?' That was Bobby

O'Toole.

'You tell me,' Sean retorted.

Bobby puffed on a cigarette, no keener than
most there to go up against the Long, knowing
it would be certain suicide. 'It was his fault,' he

mumbled.

'Anyone disagree with that?' Sean queried.

No one did.

Sean closed his eyes. He'd already made up
his mind before coming to the meeting that
they wouldn't do anything, but it was important
everyone had their say.

'Well, Sean?'

His eyes flicked open. 'We let it pass. That's
the sensible thing to do. Pete was in the wrong,
as Jim says. He's paid the penalty and let's leave


411


it at that.' Sean paused. 'Agreed?'

'Agreed was repeated throughout the gathering,
with the exception of Don McGuire.

'Don?'

'Agreed Don said reluctantly.

'That's settled then. We forget it.'


*


Pete Murray survived, though he was never quite
the same again. A blow to the head had seen to
that. For the rest of his life he was referred to
as 'daftie'.


*


Rose was bored, wondering what she could do,
when Andrew was ushered into the drawing
room. 'Andrew!' she exclaimed in delight.
'Hello, Rose.'


'This is a surprise,' she said, coming to her
feet.


'I was more or less passing and thought I'd
call in to see how you all were.'


Her eyes were sparkling. 'Pa's away I'm
afraid.'


He pretended disappointment. 'Really?'
'In London. Some dreary business or other.'
'Which is why I'm in the area. Business
that is.'


How wonderful he looked, she thought.
Absolutely scrumptious. 'Will you take tea or
coffee?'

'Coffee would be nice.'


412

i

She hurried over to the bell pull. 'How

are you?'

'In the pink, as they say. And you?'

'The better for your company.'

She hadn't changed, he thought with satisfaction,
thinking of the lectures he'd had from Jack
Riach. Well, not lectures exactly, more friendly

advice.

She'd matured somewhat, he observed. There
was a difference to her tone of voice and the way
she carried herself. He rather liked it.

Penny, one of the maids, appeared, and Rose
ordered coffee and biscuits to be brought.

'Please sit, Andrew,' she smiled after Penny
had gone.

'Thank you.'

She sat facing him. 'You're looking terribly

well.'

'As are you.'

'I didn't . . . well, let's just say this is a
pleasant surprise.'

'I'm sorry Willie's not here.'

'But you'll stay of course. The night, I
mean.'

'I'm not so sure now,' he pretended to

prevaricate.

'Oh please!'

Alice, there it was again. Not just the way she
sat a horse, but Alice.

'Where's Georgina?'

'Oh somewhere about the house or grounds,'
Rose replied airily. 'I don't really know.'

'She hasn't gone to London with Willie then.'
What a glib liar he was, he thought.


413


a
I
'No.'


'Then I shall have the company of the pair
of you.'	

Rose fervently wished Georgina had gone to
London which would have meant she'd have
had Andrew all to herself.

'Will you stay?'

He shrugged. 'I'm not sure that's appropriate
with Willie away. It might not seem proper.'  'Oh, stop being a fuddy duddy. Of course it's
proper. I shall be furious if you don't.'

He arched an eyebrow. 'Really?'

'Yes,' she stated firmly. 'I shall. So stay the
night you will.'

Andrew had to smile at her determination. If
only she knew the real reason for his visit she
might not be so insistent.

'So what have you been up to?' he asked.


if


It was half an hour later when Georgina
appeared. 'Andrew! I've just this moment been
told you're here.'


He rose and gave her a small bow. 'Rose has
been entertaining me. We've had a wonderful
chat.'

That annoyed Georgina. 'I'm so pleased.'

'Andrew's staying the night,' Rose enthused.

'That's nice. It'll be lovely having company.
Rose has told you that Willie's away, I presume?'

'Yes.'

'He'll be sorry to have missed you.' Georgina's
insides were fluttering at the thought of what lay


414


head later. She could already imagine herself
in Andrew's arms, his strong body thrusting
against hers. How she'd dreamed of it, fantasised

about it.

'I see you've had coffee.' She smiled.

'Yes we have.'

'So how about something stronger? I could
use a sherry myself.'

'How unlike you!' Rose exclaimed. Georgina
was usually abstemious where alcohol was
concerned because she was always watching
her weight.

'A little treat now and again is quite acceptable,'
Georgina answered a trifle condescendingly.
'Especially when we have such a nice, unexpected

guest.'

'I'm flattered,' Andrew declared. 'Shall I do

the honours?'

'Please.'

Rose had been hoping Georgina would have
kept away longer, she'd been having such a good
time with Andrew alone. She wondered how she
could get him on his own again.

Both women had sherry, Andrew whisky
which he was delighted to see was Drummond.

'Now then, Georgina,' he said, resuming his
chair. 'What's new?'


*


lan was done in. It had been a particularly
hard day with a great deal of physical work
involved. All he wanted was a bath, some food
and then bed.


415


He came up short when he spotted the  Rolls parked in front of the house. 'Damn!'  he muttered to himself, recognising tfye car as
Andrew's. He could well have done without
this.	i
He let himself in quietly, pausing momentarily when he heard voices, one being Andrew's. He'd
have to suffer the bugger through dinner, he
thought. But he would excuse himself as shortly
afterwards as was acceptable without being rude.
Again he wondered why he didn't like Andrew.
There was just something about the man.

Upstairs he stopped when he spied Bridie's
rear view going in the opposite direction. His
first impulse was to run after and talk to her.
An impulse he resisted.

lan sighed when she disappeared round a
corner. What torture it was not being able to
pursue her the way he would have liked, to court
her as he had Moira. It was absolute agony.
Agony.


*


Rose woke with the most terrible pain in her

stomach. It was quite excruciating.
She'd have to go to the toilet, she decided.

This wasn't something for the pot under the
bed, it was far more serious than that.

She groaned as she got out of bed. What had
brought this on? She had no idea. It certainly
couldn't have been dinner, which had been
delicious. Mrs Kilbride was scrupulous about
her kitchen hygiene and what she used.


416


Rose slipped into her dressing-gown and
padded to the door. She felt terrible.

She was halfway to the toilet when she heard
the sound. A sound which at first mystified
her. It was coming from her Pa and Georgina's

bedroom.

Suddenly she went beetroot red, recognising
it for what it must be. The noise of extreme

passion.

Then anger flamed inside her. For who else
could be with Georgina than Andrew? 'Bastard!'
she hissed through gritted teeth. 'Oh, you rotten

bastard!'

And to think she'd never guessed. What a fool
she'd been. A blind, stupid fool.

Tears blinked into her eyes as she continued
to listen, all sorts of images going through her
mind. The kind of images that made her want
to vomit in disgust.

How could Georgina betray her father like
that? Willie who loved and adored her with
every ounce of his being. If there were any
vestiges of youth left in Rose they vanished
there and then. The harsh realities of life had
finally claimed her.

And Andrew, whom she loved, being with
Georgina. That hurt. Oh how that hurt. Like
a knife plunged straight into the heart, plunged

and twisted.

She quietly sobbed, her discomfort temporarily
forgotten in the light of this revelation. The
plans she'd had disappeared like so many birds
released into the sky. Rose rubbed a hand over
her forehead, willing herself to continue on to


417


the toilet, and yet somehow unable to do so. And
still the sounds went on., all from Georgina.

How long had this been going on, she
wondered? Not that it really mattered. All
that did was that it had been. Poor Pa, poor
cuckolded Pa. If she was weeping it wasn't only
for herself but him.


For a moment she thought of rousing lan,
then decided against it. God alone knew what
he would do. She wouldn't have been surprised
if he took a gun to Andrew. Took it and
used it.


No, this was something she must never speak
about. Something she had to keep strictly to
herself. If Georgina wanted to play the slut
then so be it. Pa would never find out from
her. Not in a million years.


As for Andrew, damn him to hell! He was
loathsome beyond belief.


*


lan had already gone out when Rose joined
Georgina and Andrew at breakfast. She felt
terrible after an awful night. If she'd slept
she hadn't been aware of it. Andrew and
Georgina on the other hand were both as
perky as could be.

'Good morning, Rose,' Georgina beamed.

She stared at her stepmother, hating her.
'Good morning.'


'Good morning, Rose,' Andrew echoed.
As for him! 'Good morning,' she somehow managed to force in reply.


418

Georgina frowned. 'Are you all right?'

'Why do you ask?'

'You seem a little peaky.'

'Do I?'

'Pale,' Andrew commented, concern in his

voice.

Rose sat and waited to be served. The last
thing she'd wanted was to join them for breakfast
but thought it would have looked odd if she
hadn't. 'Kippers please,' she said to Penny the
maid who was in attendance.

'It's a gorgeous day outside. Absolutely
wonderful,' Georgina gushed.

'I noticed,' Rose replied, a trace of acid in
her voice.

'I think we should go for a long walk,' Andrew

proposed.

'I thought you might be in a rush to get back
to Dalneil,' Rose answered.

Andrew couldn't have felt better. His session
with Georgina had been first class. By God,
but she was a quick learner. And enthusiastic
with it. Their lovemaking had just gone on
and on.

Til be happy to do that.' Georgina smiled at

Andrew.

Bitch! Rose thought, jealousy tearing at her.
After breakfast she intended returning to her
room and staying there in the hope that Andrew
would have left by lunchtime.

'I wonder how Willie's getting on in London?'
Georgina mused. 'I might try and telephone him
later at his club.'

But not to tell him what you were up to last


419


night. Rose thought grimly. Oh no, you wouldn't
do that, lady. Bitch!


'Did you have any particular plans for today,
Rose?'


She glanced dyspeptically at Andrew. How she
wished it had been her in that bedroom with
him. She he was making love to. She making
those sounds of pleasure. Sounds that had been
ringing in her ears for most of the night.
t 'Reading.'

'Reading!' he exclaimed.
'That's right. I enjoy it.'
'I didn't know that.'

She had no appetite whatsoever. She'd have
to toy with the kippers, eat just a few mouthfuls.
'When are you leaving?' she queried abruptly.

Georgina glanced sharply at Rose, not
appreciating her tone. 'That's hardly something
to ask a guest,' she declared.
Rose didn't reply.

'I thought I might stay another night,' Andrew
stated. He was regarding her quizzically,
wondering what was wrong. This wasn't the
Rose he was used to.

Again she said nothing, but her heart was in
her boots. Another night so he and Georgina
could be together again. It made her want
to spit.

'Should I leave today?' he queried slowly.

Georgina stopped eating to stare at Andrew
in dismay. What was this business about leaving
today? That had already been agreed between
them.

'Suit yourself. Do as you wish,' Rose declared,


420


pretending, or at least trying to, that she didn't
care what he did.

'Then I shall stay if you don't mind.'

'I don't.'

What on earth was going on, Georgina
wondered? Why this sudden hostility on Rose's
part? It was positively oozing out of her. It was
as though . . .

Georgina went icy cold inside. Rose couldn't
know. How could she possibly? And yet it was
as if she did.

Andrew was thinking the same thing, wishing
now he'd never come to The Haven. For what if
Rose did know and said something to her father!
He dreaded to think the outcome of that.

'Is something wrong, Rose?' Andrew asked
quietly.

'Wrong? No, why should there be?'

'You seem a trifle . . . upset.'

'Can't imagine why. There isn't a reason.'

Relief washed through Andrew, as it did
Georgina who resumed eating.

When Rose's kippers came they tasted like
cardboard in her mouth.

After breakfast, as she'd promised herself, she
returned to her room where she cried for the rest
of that morning.


*


Til leave Willie if you wish.'

Andrew and Georgina were out walking in
a meadow with a fading summer sun high
overhead. 'Leave Willie?'


421



'If you wish, Andrew. I want to be with you,
not him.'


Andrew thought of Willie, and Ireland where
they'd met and been colleagues together. He'd
been a rat in his life, he had no illusions about
that, but simply couldn't do that to a pal.
Though he had to admit it was tempting. A
temptation he mustn't succumb to.
'No,' Andrew stated baldly.
Georgina's face fell. 'But we're so good
together. A natural couple if ever there was.'

'That's true. But the answer's still no. I won't
hurt Willie like that. What I've done, we've
done, is bad enough. But for him to find out
and then lose you! It would finish him. And
you know it would.'
'But what about me?'

Andrew thought of Alice. 'It seems we never
get what we truly want in life, that it's all
a compromise. If things had been different
. . . Except they're not. You have a good
marriage, a man who dotes on you. Isn't that
enough?'

'No,' she whispered. 'I need more than that.'
Andrew knew then he'd never sleep with

Georgina again, that it was all over between

them.

'I need you, and what you do to me in bed,'
Georgina added, still in a whisper.

Tm sorry,' Andrew said. 'I truly am.'

She stopped and turned to face him. 'Don't
I mean anything to you?'

'Of course you do, Georgina. But there are
things which are right and others that are


422

wrong. If you did leave Willie and came to
me it wouldn't work.'

'But why?'

'Because Willie would always be between us.
A ghost haunting us until the day we die. Believe
me, that's how it would be.'

Georgina sucked in a deep breath. 'You're
saying goodbye, aren't you?'

'Yes.'

Her body jerked the way a fish does when
gaffed. 'Oh please, Andrew, please. I want you

so much.'

'We've had a good time together, Georgina,
let's just leave it at that. A fond memory.'

'Memory,' she choked.

'That's right.' He took her hand. 'No regrets,
eh? Let's never have those.'

She'd never regret Andrew, she thought
bitterly. What she would regret was this
conversation and his breaking it off between
them. If only she hadn't suggested leaving
Willie the relationship might have gone on
for who knew how long. But suggest it she
had and this was the consequence.

'Georgina?'

'I'm fine,' she replied, forcing a smile on to

her face.

Should she try and make him change his
mind, she wondered as they resumed walking?
But already knew she wouldn't. There had
been a finality and determination in Andrew's
voice which told her any such effort would be

useless.

Never again to experience what she had the


423



previous night, she thought in despair. She
simply couldn't believe that to be so. And yet
it would be.


*


Andrew made his excuses and left directly after
luncheon.


A puzzled, yet pleased, Rose watched him

drive off. Georgina couldn't bear to.

v


*


Kathleen glanced over at Pat sitting facing her,
reading the evening paper as he usually did at
that time of night. Sean was out, Alison playing
dollies between them.
Tat?'


'Aye, what is it?' he answered without looking
up.


'It's Friday night. Why don't you take a wee
dauner down to the pub? It'll do you good.'

He stared at her in surprise. Kathleen actually
proposing he go to the pub! Now there was a
turn up for the book. He shook his head.

'Don't worry about money. I'll give you some.
Sean was more than generous this week.'

'No, Kathleen. I won't bother.'

She laughed softly. 'Pat Flynn turning down
a chance to go to the pub. I don't believe it.'

'Aye, well there you are.'

'I don't understand, Pat.'


He sighed and laid his paper aside. 'An
explanation is it, woman?'


424


'I'm curious.'

Pat closed his eyes for a moment, then
opened them again. A smile lit up his face.
'The real reason I don't want to go, Kathleen
me darlin', is that I'm perfectly happy to be
here with you. I don't need the pub, or the
people there any more, or anything like that.
Just you and I together in our own wee house
is all I ask for.'

Alison had stopped playing to gape at her
father.

Kathleen dropped her gaze, touched in a way
she'd never been touched before. 'Thank you,
Pat,' she whispered.

'No, my angel, thank you.'

He picked up his paper again and resumed
reading while Kathleen dashed a tear from
her eye.

There were times when life truly was worth
living, she reflected. They might be few and far
between, but there were times.


*


'It was the waiting that was the worst I think,'
Jack Riach said quietly to Hettie. 'The waiting
knowing you were about to be ordered to go
over the top and all that entailed.

'The rest was bad enough. The hours, the
days, months, you spent thinking, remembering
what it had been like before. And what it had
now become. And all the time men, chums,
disappeared. Killed most of them, wounded
the lucky ones. The nightly bombardments that


425



shook the dugout, the whizz bangs and 'Jack
Johnsons'.'

Jack broke off into a brooding silence.

'Would you like a cup of tea?'	

He shook his head. 'I sometimes wonder if it
isn't worse for me being blind.'

'Why so?'

'Perhaps I remember more than most. Perhaps
the images and sounds stay more real in my
memory than they do for sighted people. I don't
know. But I think I might be right.'

Hettie closed the notebook she'd been writing
in and laid it by. 'I would say that's enough for
today. You've done your quota.'

'And still I haven't got the end. But it'll come,
I know it will.'

'I'm sure, knowing you.'

Jack sighed. 'All those chaps. Peter Drummond
amongst them, all gone. Blown to buggery or
worse. I still miss Peter like the devil. He was
the best friend I ever had, or ever will. Excluding 
you, of course.'

'There's Andrew.'

Jack smiled wryly. 'Andrew's a friend, but not
like his brother Peter. He and I were as close as
two men can platonically be.'

'Tommy's at school,' Hettie said.

Jack frowned. 'So?'

'Why don't we go upstairs? I fancy a cuddle.'

The frown was replaced by a smile that
curled the corners of his mouth. 'I can't think
of anything nicer.'

'Neither can I. And no more talk about the
war. Agreed?'


426

'Agreed.'	.

He might not talk about it but it was always
there, always with him he thought as, hand in
hand, they mounted the stairs.

And that's how it would always be.


*


427


24


Rose sat listening to her father and Georgina
chatting animatedly to one another, Willie
having returned from London earlier that day.
lan was dozing in a chair after another hard
day's physical work.

She studied Georgina's face which showed no
sign whatsoever of her betrayal. All it did show
was pleasure at having Willie home again.

If only her father knew what had gone on
while he'd been away, he wouldn't be so
delighted with Georgina's company then. Quite
the contrary.

Georgina reached across and patted Willie's
hand as he gazed adoringly at her. Willie
couldn't wait till it was time to go to bed
and every so often his eyes slid sideways to
where a clock was quietly ticking.

Well, Georgina's secret was safe with her,
Rose reflected. For a number of reasons, not
least the effect it would have on Willie should
he find out his wife was an adulteress.

Jezebel, Rose thought. Bitch! And to commit
that adultery with Andrew, the man she loved.
That was the hardest thing, the cruellest cross
to bear.


It was going to be difficult, damnably
difficult, but she had to try and forget Andrew
Drummond. Though it would break her heart
to do so.


428

I

How could she possibly retain any aspirations
in that direction when he'd . . . She drew in a
deep breath. Done that with Georgina.

Willie turned to her. 'You're very quiet
tonight, Rose.'

'Am I?'

'You've hardly said a word all evening.'

'Maybe that's because I couldn't get a word


in edgeways.'
He laughed. 'Georgina and I have been

rattling on I suppose.'

'Just a bit.'

'Natural after all. I have missed her a great
deal and I presume she has me.'

'You know that to be true, Willie.'

Rose had an almost overwhelming urge to leap
across the room and slap Georgina's face. Slap it
as hard as she possibly could.

'So what have you been up to?' Willie inquired

of Rose.

'Nothing much. The usual.'

Willie nodded. 'Have you been riding?'

'Several times. I shall go out again tomorrow

morning, providing the weather permits.'

'A pity Andrew hadn't stayed on. He might

have gone with you.'

Rose swallowed hard. 'Perhaps.'

'Yes, that is a pity,' Georgina concurred.

Rose couldn't resist it, Georgina not having

given any reason for his sudden departure. 'I

thought he was going to stay for another day.'
For a brief moment something flickered in

Georgina's eyes, then was gone. 'He decided

he'd better get home after all. Some matter


429


he'd temporarily forgotten about.'

Suddenly Rose couldn't stand it any longer,,
the sheer hypocrisy of it all. Her own as well as
Georgina's.	

She stood up. 'I think I'll go for a walk in
the garden.'	1
'At this time of night!' Willie exclaimed. 'It's
pitch black out there.' 'I still want to go.' v 'Then you'd better wrap up warm,' Georgina
said. 'The nights are drawing in.' 1
'I'm not a child, Georgina Rose snapped in
reply. Til wear what I consider appropriate.' I

Georgina stared at Rose in consternation. 'I
didn't mean to offend. Of course you're not a
child. On the contrary, you're quite the young
woman.'


And one who hates you, Rose thought. 'I
shan't be too long.'


*


'So you broke it off,' Jack repeated, and sipped
his pint.


'That's right. She wanted to leave Willie and
I couldn't have that.'

'Well, well,' Jack murmured.

'I take it you approve.'

'Oh yes.'

'The damn thing is she was right when she
said we made a good couple, a natural one.
That's exactly what we made. And that body!
Oh, Jack, you wouldn't believe it.'

'Except she's someone else's wife,' Jack replied


430


drily. 'Wonderful body or not, she's someone
else's wife and someone who's a pal.'

'I know,' Andrew said dejectedly. 'That was
the swine of it.'

'How did she take the news?'

'She put up a good front, I'll give her that.
Though I could tell how hurt she was. I have
to admire her self-control as my breaking it off
was the last thing she expected.' Andrew paused,
then added, 'It was the last thing I expected as
well. But what else could I do?'

'You did right,' Jack assured him. 'If you'd
strung her along it would only have got worse.'

'And what if she'd told Willie about our affair?
That would have been ghastly.'

'You mean, to try and force your hand?'
Jack thought about that. 'I suppose it was
entirely possible. Mind you, dear boy, have
you considered this, she might still.'

'Christ,' Andrew swore. 'I hadn't.'

'Something for you to ponder on.'

'I don't have to. If she leaves Willie thinking
she's coming to me then she's mistaken, very
much so. That's the least I could do for

Willie.'

'Pity he's such a terribly nice chap, isn't it,'
Jack commented, again drily.

'Aye, a pity. If he hadn't been . . . ' Andrew
shrugged. 'Well, who knows.'

'Indeed.' 

There were a few moments' silence between
them, then Jack said, 'So how about Rose?'

'She was fine. Though a bit testy over
breakfast I have to admit. I actually wondered


431


if she'd guessed about Georgina and myself.'

'Could she have done?'

'I don't see how, Jack. She was well tucked
up before I went to Georgina's room.'

'Well, perhaps either you or Georgina gave
the game away while she was present. It could
be she noticed a look or expression and put two
and two together.'


Andrew shook his head. 'No, that's hardly
likely. I'd lay odds against it. Both Georgina
and myself were extremely careful. Even when
alone together.'


'Then maybe it was due to frustration.'
'Frustration?' Andrew queried, reaching for
his whisky.


'She did lay her cards on the table after all
and you haven't done anything about it.'


'I told her it wasn't on because of her age and
being Willie's daughter.'


Jack laughed softly. 'But did she believe you?
That's the thing. Anyway, women who lay their
cards on the table and get rebuffed tend not to
take the matter kindly.'

'That's possible,' Andrew mused.

'Will you see her again?'

'Who, Rose?'


'That's who we're now talking about, isn't
it?'


'Oh I should imagine so. But not for a while.
I shan't be returning to The Haven in a hurry
so that Georgina can come to terms with how
things now stand.'


'I still think you should marry Rose. I really
do. Don't forget I heard her voice and she adores


432


you. You could do a lot worse than that.'
A picture of Alice drifted into Andrew's mind.

Dear sweet Alice whom he'd fallen in love with.

But she was dead and gone, he'd never see her

again in this lifetime.

Til get another round in,' Andrew declared,

abruptly terminating the conversation.


*


lan glanced up and down the corridor. It was a
work day but he'd contrived to get back to the
house on an excuse.

He took a deep breath. This was ridiculous,
utterly ridiculous. But he was going to do it
nonetheless.

Unobserved, the staff about their duties
elsewhere, this part of the house deserted,
he swiftly opened the door and slipped inside,
hurriedly closing the door again behind him.

He gazed about, drinking in every last detail
of what he considered a rather miserable room.
Bridie's room.

There was her bed, neatly made, nightdress
folded on top. The same nightdress she'd been
wearing when he'd brought her the flowers.

'Bridie,' he whispered.

Was it his imagination or could he actually
smell her? He believed he could. Especially when
he moved to her bed and stood beside it.

lan ran a hand over his slightly damp forehead.
The woman was driving him insane, every fibre
of his being craving for her. He exhaled slowly,
balled his fists then released them again.


433


He thought of Moira McLaren. How she'd
become a distant memory in such a short time.
It was as though she'd never existed, or at least
their relationship. She might be beautiful but
she paled into insignificance beside Bridie, Bridie
who, for him, shone like a bright star at night.
Bridie, who made his pulse race -every time he
saw her.

'Madness,' he muttered. 'Sheer madness.'
How had this happened, how? He didn't know,
only that it had and was torture.

Her case was under the bed and he briefly
contemplated opening it to see what was inside.
No, he decided, that was going too far. A real
violation of her privacy. Coming into her room
was bad enough, the case would be too much.

He mustn't stay too long, he reminded
himself. That would be folly. How could he
possibly explain being in a member of staff's
room? He couldn't.

Picking up her nightdress he held it to his
nose, the scent of her now strong in his nostrils.
He drew it deep into his lungs, savouring it.

Enough, he thought. Enough. Replacing the
nightdress, carefully arranging it as it had more
or less been, he wheeled about and left the room,
striding on his way.

'Bloody idiot,' he muttered to himself. 'That's
what you are, a bloody idiot. A complete fool.'

For the rest of the day her scent remained
with him.


*


434

Mo Binchy, and the girl he'd been sleeping with,
Shelagh, Scan now knew her name to be, came
off the dancefloor and up to the table where
he was sitting. There were ten of them, on
a Saturday night out at the Trocadero, one
of Glasgow's largest dancehalls situated in the
centre of the city.

Mo was flushed, partly due to the heat of the
place which was stifling, but mostly from the
alcohol he'd consumed before getting there.

'I want to speak to you, Scan,' Mo announced,
his arm circled round Shelagh's waist.

'Aye, go ahead.'

'In private like.'

There were three other members of the
Samurai at the table. 'Can you fellas give us
a couple of minutes.'

'Of course, Scan. Anything you say.'

Sean liked that. Anything he said! By God, it
was great to have power and respect. The feeling
was almost . . . sexual.

Mo and Shelagh sat when the others had
moved away. 'We made a decision tonight and
I want you to be the first to know,' Mo said.

Sean didn't reply, waiting for Mo to go on.

Mo glanced at Shelagh, who giggled, then
back at Sean. 'We've decided to get married.'

That surprised Sean. 'Really?'

'Aye, really. A quick engagement and then the
deed itself. What do you think?'

Sean wasn't sure how to answer that. The
lassie seemed personable enough, though hardly
anything special. But if it suited Mo, then so be
it. 'I suppose congratulations are in order.'


435


Mo beamed. 'I was hoping you'd say that.'
'Thank you,' Shelagh said in a rather reedy
voice.

Not his type at all. Scan thought. Far too
mousy with a lousy figure. Very little on top
that he could make out.

'The thing is,' Mo continued, 'would you be
my best man? I'd be honoured . . . ' He paused
for a moment. 'We'd both be honoured if you'd
be that.'

Scan felt expansive. Why the hell not! And it
was his right to be asked as the leader of the
Samurai after all. 'Of course I will. Consider
that a promise.'

Mo reached over and shook Scan by the hand.
'You're a pal, Scan, through and through.'

Scan signalled to the others who'd been at
the table that they could return, and soon they
too were offering their congratulations.

It was a little later that Bill O'Connell had a
word in his ear. 'I've just been dancing with a
bird who says she fancies you rotten. Wants to
know if she can be introduced.'
'Is that a fact.'

'Good-looking piece too.' He nodded his
head. 'That's her over there in the pink dress.
You can't miss her, she's ogling you.'

She was pretty too, Scan thought. Quite a
cracker. And with a decent figure, unlike Mo's
Shelagh. Should he get her up?

Then he remembered Muriel and Babs and
what had happened with them. No, he decided.
He daren't risk another humiliation. That would
be too much to bear.


436


I


He suddenly felt sick inside.

The girl was smiling fit to burst, her eyes an
open invitation. He knew she'd do a turn if he
wanted it. If not that night then shortly.

He dropped his gaze, breaking eye contact.
She'd just have to go on fancying him, that was
all. He wasn't going to do anything about it.

'Sean.'

He glanced round at Bobby O'Toole. 'What

is it?'

'Look who's here and watching us. Second

pillar on the left.'

Sean sought out the named pillar and there
standing directly in front of it staring hard
at them was Big Bill Bremner, leader of the

Long.

'Shit,' Sean swore softly.

'Do you think he's after a barney?'

'I've no idea, Bob. None at all.'

Sean doubted Big Bill was on his own, that
was highly unlikely. The question was, how
many of the Long were with him?

'What shall we do?' Sammy Renton queried.

'I don't know. Hang on tight I suppose and
see what happens. One thing's for certain, I'm
not leaving with my tail between my legs just
because he's here. Apart from anything else it
would be a terrible mistake. Believe me. Show
weakness and they'll be straight at your throat.
For the fun of it if nothing else.'

'Christ,' Sammy muttered.

Sean glanced at Mo who'd gone back on the
dancefloor with Shelagh, then at the lassie who'd
told Bill O'Connell she'd fancied him. Her


437



expression was one of clear disappointment.

He touched the hardness that was the razor
in his inside jacket pocket, and wondered what
Big Bill and his people might be carrying. He
found he was sweating.

He left it a couple of minutes then looked
over again at the pillar. Only now there was no
sign of the man.

What did that mean? An ambush when they 
left the hall? It was a possibility.

A possibility that in the end proved unfounded.


*


Jeannie Swanson got into bed and pulled the
covers up to her chin. Tm whacked,' she
declared.

Bridie smiled. Tm a bit that way myself.'

'The apple tart we had tonight was lovely, don't you think?'

'Hmmh,' Bridie murmured.

'I can't cook much myself. I burn things when
I try.'

Bridie laughed softly. 'That must be because
you're not paying attention.'

'I find it so boring. That's probably why I'm
no good at it. What about you?'

'Oh, I can get by. None of your fancy dishes,
mind. Straightforward cooking and baking. My
ma taught me.'

Jeannie sighed. 'My ma died when I was wee.
There were six of us lived with my da. My
older sister Tina used to do the cooking, only
she wasn't all that clever at it either. Da was


438

always complaining. Until he took up with my
auntie Margaret that was. She'd been married
but widowed in the war. She came to live in
our house just before I got the job here.'
Jeannie turned on to her elbow to face

Bridie.

'There's something I've been meaning to ask

you.'

'And what's that, Jeannie?'

'Why don't you read at night any more? It's
ages since I last saw you with a book in your

hand.'

It was too, Bridie reflected. 'I sort of lost

interest,' she replied.

'you, Bridie Flynn! I find that hard to

believe.'

'Well it's true.'

'But why?'

Bridie shrugged. 'Who knows? These things

happen.'

'I must say I'm surprised.'

Bridie wasn't. What fun was there reading
about fictional heroes when her own hero was
under the selfsame roof? Sir lan of Seaton, her
very own shining knight.

'I'm tired,' Bridie declared. 'Do you mind if
I blow out the candle?'

'Go ahead.'

Bridie left her bed, crossed to where the candle
was burning brightly, and did just that.

'Goodnight, Bridie.'

'Goodnight, Jeannie.'

'Sweet dreams.'

Bridie smiled in the darkness. That's what it


439


A
had become., day-dreams as well as those she
had in her sleep.
All of lan Seaton.


*


V
Andrew was fed up, another evening by himself
with a bottle of Drummond. He really had to do
something about it. He was rapidly becoming a v
melancholic.

Andrew sipped his whisky and wondered if he
should stroll down to Jack and Hettie's. They
always welcomed him no matter the time and
were such good company.	

Rose, he thought. What about Rose? It was
still too soon to visit The Haven again. He had
to give Georgina time.

God, how he hoped Georgina hadn't said
anything to Willie. Or didn't in the future. For
both their sakes as well as Willie's.

He cursed himself for giving in to the woman
in the first place. He should have resisted, .
refused to play her game.

Some hope, he smiled wryly. Women had
always been his great weakness. If it hadn't
been one of them, it had been another.

He got up from his chair and started to pace.
No, he wouldn't go to Jack's he decided. The
pub? No, he wouldn't do that either. It was all
right being there with Jack but on his own was
rather different. As the owner of Drummond's
he didn't want to be seen propping up the bar
by himself. That would only lead to talk.
He gazed around the room, memories of


440

happier times flooding his mind. Not that
he was unhappy, he wasn't. Just lonely and
bored.

Rose, he wondered how she'd fit in here,
probably very well. And he was sure the staff
would take to her after the initial surprise in
the difference in their ages.

No no no, that simply wasn't on. She was
far too young for him. Though . . . How had
Jack put it? She adored him, Jack had heard it
in her voice and where voices were concerned
Jack was invariably right. Something he found
rather scary.

Not for the first time he thought how he
envied Jack the lovely home life he had. What
a support and companion Hettie was, and
then there was wee Tommy whom they both
doted on.

He recalled what it had been like when he,
Peter, Charlotte and his younger sister Nell
had been young. The house had reverberated
with laughter. And fighting of course, for which
brothers and sisters didn't fight?

Laughter and fighting, it brought the place
alive. Whereas now, it was like a morgue.

He thought of Ellen Temple with regret.
He missed her, and what she'd had to offer.
Well, Ellen was now married to that clod of
a husband and lost to him. As was the comfort
she'd brought.

Jesus, he prayed Georgina didn't blab to
Willie. Georgina whom he wished was there
with him. It wouldn't have been so dull and
dreary with her around.


441



He stopped pacing by his glass, drained it and
crossed to the decanter for a refill. That was
something else, he thought. He was drinking far
too much nowadays. But drink was company
and consolation, both of which he needed.

He knew then what he'd do. Take the Rolls
out and go for a drive. It didn't matter where,
just a drive.

Pathetic, he thought. That's what you've
become, Andrew. Bloody pathetic.

Where was the young blood he'd been in
Ireland? Gone for ever. Aged by years and responsibility. But what times those had been.
Wonderful times, exhilarating times.

He swallowed his whisky and poured himself yet another.


*


lan knew where he'd find Bridie, and sure
enough there she was blackleading a grate. He
paused in the doorway, she as yet unaware of
his presence. Was he doing the right thing? He
didn't know, and a large part of him didn't care.
He was following the dictates of his heart.

He walked quietly over and halted behind her.
'Hello, Bridie.'

She started. 'Hello, Master lan.'

She had a smudge on her forehead that
he found most appealing. 'How are you this
morning?'

'Fine. Just dandy. And you?'

'Not too bad.'

She hesitated, unsure whether to continue


442

vvith her work or talk. She decided to take her

cue from lan.

'Can you get away for a while this evening?'

That startled her. 'Get away?'

'That's right. For a half hour or so.'

She thought about that. 'I suppose so. After


our meal.'
He nodded. 'Good. Meet me in the stables.


I want to speak to you.'
Now she was totally confused. 'About what?'
'Things,' he replied enigmatically.
Bridie stared at him, remembering Teresa.

'I'm not sure,' she stammered.

'Please?'

His pleading look was one she couldn't refuse.
'About nine. I'll make some sort of excuse if I
have to and disappear for a bit.'

Til be waiting, Bridie.'

She watched him leave the room, completely
mystified as to what this was all about. Meet
him in the stables?

No matter what she felt for him he'd better
not try anything, she thought. He'd just better
not. He'd get a right flea in his ear if he did.


*


lan was sitting on a bale of hay with a
hurricane lamp dimly lighting the stables when
she arrived. He immediately rose. 'Thanks for
coming, Bridie.'

She didn't reply, nervous in the extreme.

'Why don't you sit down,' he proposed,
indicating the bale.


443


She did, wondering yet again what this was
all about. Please God he wasn't going to try;
and seduce her. She couldn't have borne that,
it would have been far too hurtful.

'Was it easy to get away?'	 i

Bridie nodded. 'I said I was off to my room

and as Jeannie's busy she won't know that I

haven't gone there.'

'Good.'

v lan took a deep breath. This was proving far
more difficult than he'd anticipated. 'I took the
liberty of bringing along a bottle of wine and acouple of glasses. Would you like some?'

Was he trying to get her drunk, was that it?
Her opinion of lan Seaton, knight in shining
armour, plummeted. 'No thank you.'
'Then would you mind if I did?'
'Go ahead.'	 lan poured himself a glass from the already
opened bottle, then sat on another bale a little
distance away. It was a beautiful atmosphere, he
thought. Soft and yellow with shadows dancing
on Bridie's face. He felt an enormous sense of
peace come over him.

'Well,' he said, and sipped his wine. In fact

he'd already had quite a bit of wine that evening

in preparation for their tryst.	I

Bridie dropped her gaze to stare at the floor.

'How's your father?'

That surprised her. 'A great deal better, thank
you. He's started work again.'
'No after-effects?'


'Not according to the letters my mother has
written.'

'Strange the doctors not being able to diagnose
vvhat was wrong with him.'

'He was very ill, lan. Believe me, I saw him. hq was at death's door.'

'I'm sure,' lan replied hastily. 'I didn't mean
to imply anything otherwise.'

She smiled, new confidence coming into her.
'What's this all about, lan?'

'I wanted to talk to you.'

'Oh?'

He saw her expression and realised what she
was thinking. 'Just talk, Bridie. I promise you.'

She believed him and immediately relaxed.
'Go on then.'

lan was wretched and heady at the same time.
Was he doing the right thing or just being a fool?
But how could he be a fool feeling as he did?

'The truth is, Bridie, and I won't beat about
the bush, I've fallen in love with you.'

She gaped at him, mouth hanging open.

'What do you say to that?'


444


445


25


Bridie was stunned, completely and utterly. For
the moment she couldn't think of anything to
reply. lan in love with her! It couldn't be right,
it couldn't be so.

*Well?' lan queried, now somewhat agitated.
He'd made a mistake, he thought. He should
never have declared himself. He wished he'd
never set up this meeting.

'I...!...' Bridie trailed off.

'I'm sorry if I've offended you. I just wanted
you to know.'

lan had a large gulp of wine. God this was
awful. If he'd been a magician he'd have waved
his wand and disappeared.	i

'In love with .me?'

'Yes,' he whispered.

'But . . . how?'

'I don't know. It just happened, Bridie.'

It was an attempt to seduce her. Had to be.! And yet. . . His tone was anything but insincere.
It rang of truth. 'I'm . . . lost for words.'

'I can understand that. It has come somewha
out of the blue.'

And then she remembered his kissing, her and
what that had been like. 'Don't have me on, lan,
please.'

'I'm not, Bridie. On my oath.' He crossed his
heart. 'May the good Lord strike me down if I'm
lying.'	


446	I

Tears welled into her eyes. It was a dream
come true. No, more than that. 'I too have a
confession to make.'

There was someone else, he thought. Damn!
He should have known. A chap back in Glasgow

probably.

She stared at lan through eyes shining with
tears, her heart pounding within her chest. 'I
love you too,' she stated.

It was now his turn to be rocked. 'You do?'

She nodded.

'I never guessed.'

'I've done my best to keep it from you. I
mean, what chance had I with you? Our stations
in life are so different. And then there was Moira
McLaren whom you were going out with. I can't
. . . couldn't compete with her. Miss McLaren's
beautiful whereas I'm ordinary.'

He slowly smiled. 'You're hardly ordinary,
Bridie. At least not to me. In my book you
knock Moira into a cocked hat.'

'I do?'

'Oh yes,' he whispered. He wanted to go to
her, take her into his arms and hold her tight.
But guessed correctly, for the moment, that such
a move would be a mistake.

Bridie put her hands together and rubbed a
thumb. This was all so bewildering. It was as
though one of the novels she'd read had come
to life. He loved her? Prince Charming actually
loved her. She felt like Cinderella.

'I don't know what to do about it,' lan said.

'How do you mean?'

'Exactly that. I don't know what to do.'


447


'Because I'm a servant?'
He flushed slightly. 'Yes.'
'I understand. It's not very practical, is it?'
He shook his head.
'Yet you love me and I love you. There was
a day on the staircase when we looked at one
another, and that was that. I was head over
heels.'

He stared at her in wonderment. 'It was the
ame for me. The same day on the staircase.'
'Really?'	I
'It must have been the same day. The French
have an expression for it, a coup de foudre. The
Italians call it 'the thunderbolt'. Our eyes met
and that was that.'
'Yes,' she breathed. 
He laid his glass aside, rose and said, 'I'm
coming over to you. Is that all right?'

'If you wish.' Again she thought of Teresa.
'No funny business, lan.'

'There won't be,' he assured her.
He crossed to her bale and kneeled. 'You're
crying.'

'With happiness.'

That tore at him. 'I feel like that as well. All

sort of ... ' He flushed again. 'Mushy inside.'

She smiled. 'It's the same with me.'

He took her hands in his. 'You and I

are meant for one another, Bridie.. We were

destined.'

She gazed deep into his eyes feeling she could

drown in them. 'We're both going to have to

think about this, lan.'

'I agree.'


448

'There's one thing you must understand.'

'Which is?'

'I won't. . . ' She gulped. 'I won't go with you
unless we were married. Nor will that change.'

That disappointed yet pleased him at the same
time. 'You are attracted to me?'

'Of course, silly. I think you are ever so
handsome.'

He lifted her hands to his mouth and
tenderly kissed them. He was filled with
. . . what? Something he'd never experienced
before. Something spiritual, though still very
much of the flesh.

'I can't stay very long. I must get back before I'm missed,' Bridie heard herself saying.

'Do you have to?'

'They might wonder where I am.' Nonsense
of course, she was supposed to be alone in her
room. But enough was enough for the time
being.

'Then let them.'

'No, lan. I have my job to think about. I don't
want to lose it.'

'You won't that, Bridie. I promise you.'

'Then my reputation.'

'Or that either.'

'Sir lan of Seaton,' she murmured.

'Maid Bridie.'

Just being with him was so very special, she
thought. Detaching a hand from his she reached
up and stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes as
she stroked.

'Maybe this isn't a good idea,' she said.

His eyes snapped open.


449


'I'm still a servant after all. And you're who
you are. It's an impossibility, lan. I hate to say
that, but it is.'

'Nothing's impossible, Bridie. My father has,
often said that to me.'

'I think this is. It's a wonderful dream, lan,  but impossible in the end..You must see that?'

He did, but didn't want to accept the fact.
How could he marry a servant, particularly when
ft was their house she was a servant in?

'Will you meet me again?' he pleaded.

'You mean here?'

'If you will.'

There was nothing she wanted more. 'Yes.'

'When?'

She thought about that. 'Monday would be
best.'

'Then Monday it is. Same time?'

She nodded. 'And, lan, I meant what I said
about funny business. None of that.'

'Can I kiss you?'

'If you like.'

He raised her to her feet, then his lips
were on hers, his tongue eagerly exploring her
mouth.

For the pair of them it was sheer ecstasy.


*


Pat Flynn was scanning the windows on
either side of the road on the lookout for
the firm's cards when Geraldine Buchanan
suddenly appeared round a corner.

He mentally swore when he spotted her. What


450

in the name of the wee man was she doing in
this area? He whooaed Jasper to a halt at her
approach.

Geraldine, eyes glittering, stopped beside his
cart. 'Hello, Mr Flynn. How are you?'

He touched the peak of his cap. 'Fine now,
Mrs Buchanan. I've been ill.'

'I heard.'

'I'm not delivering your coal any more as they
changed my round.'

She didn't reply to that, just continued staring
at him.

Pat lowered his voice. 'I meant to come and
see you when I was better, but couldn't be
sure your husband wouldn't be there. And what
excuse could I offer for knocking on your door
without a bag of coal on my back?'

Liar, she thought. He was lying in his teeth.
She was damned if she was going to say how
much she'd missed him and their evenings
together.

'I understand, Mr Flynn.'

He relaxed a little. 'I'm sorry.'

'That's all right.'

'No I mean it, I truly am.'

She shruggQd. 'Fine.'

Geraldine stood her ground waiting for more
of an explanation. She considered she was
worth that.

'And how are you?' he asked.

'Never better.'

'Who told you I'd been ill?'

'Your replacement mentioned something about

it.'


451


'I nearly died according to the doctors. It was
touch and go for a while.'

She raised an imperious eyebrow. 'What
exactly was wrong with you?'

'They never did find out. It was something I mysterious they couldn't diagnose.'

'I see.'	:

 eh ... won't be visiting again,' he
mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear.

I guessed that.'

'It's nothing to do with you.'


' No?'

He shook his head. 'Something happened to"

me in hospital. Something that changed me. It's
my wife . . . ' He broke off and sucked in a
deep breath. 'I realised how lucky I was and i
how much she meant to me. That's the long  and short of it.'	I

Geraldine believed him. She could hear it in
his voice and read it in his face. In a way she
was jealous. It wasn't that Dougal didn't love
her, he did. But how could she truly love him
if she was prepared to have affairs? Simply sex?
Maybe. Or perhaps there was more to it than
that. Perhaps she was someone never meant to
be faithful.

'Then I'll wish you all the very best, Pat.'

'And I you, Geraldine.'

She hesitated, then said, 'I was. worried
about you. I really was. I want you to know
that.'

'Thank you.'

'I just wish you had found some way of
coming round and telling me to my face. You


452

left me feeling such a ... slut.'

He blanched.

'Goodbye then, Pat.'

'Goodbye, Geraldine.'

Pat drove on, his feelings mixed. But he'd
never stray from Kathleen again. Never in a
thousand years.

The dreams had seen to that.


*


'Wake up, girl!'

Bridie started. 'Sorry, Mrs Coltart.'

'You were away with the fairies right enough.
Standing there staring into space as though you
were having a vision. Were you?'

She had indeed. Herself and lan together.
'No,' she lied.

Mrs Coltart studied Bridie. 'Your work's fallen
away these last couple of days. Is something the
matter?'

'No, Mrs Coltart. I'm sorry.'

'Then you'd better give yourself a shake. I
won't have slacking in my household. Simply
won't have it, hear?'

What was wrong with the lassie, Mrs Coltart
wondered as she continued on down the
corridor? Slacking was most unlike Bridie.


-	*


lan leapt to his feet the instant Bridie appeared.
'There you are! I was beginning to think you
weren't coming.'


453


'It was difficult to get away,, lan. The meal
was delayed and I couldn't exactly leave before it
was over. They'd all have thought that extremely
strange.'
'Of course.'

Bridie was nervous, though she'd been
constantly thinking about this and waiting for
it since their last meeting.

'I brought another bottle of wine,' lan said.
'Ean I tempt you?'

Bridie went to a bale and sat. 'I've never
drunk wine. Where I come from it's all whisky
and beer.'

'In which case you must have some.'
'But only one,' she stated firmly. She wasn't
about to get drunk. It wasn't that she didn't
trust lan, but under the influence of alcohol
who knew what she might succumb to?
It wasn't a risk she was about to take.
'Here,' lan smiled, handing her a brimming
glass.

'I've often wondered what wine tastes like.
Since arriving at The Haven that is.'
'Then have a sip.'
She did. 'It's nice and warming.'
'That's called Chateauneuf du Pape, my
favourite. I'm glad you approve.'

Bridie had another sip. It really was nice, and
as she'd said warming.
He frowned. 'You look worried.'
Tm still trying to take on board what's
happened. Between you and me that is.'
He nodded. The too.'
'You were being truthful, weren't you?'


454

'My word of honour, Bridie,' he protested
quickly. 'I wouldn't lie to you, or anyone else
about something like that.'

She gazed about her. 'What an odd place for
us to meet. I know nothing about horses.'

'I do ride myself, though not a great deal.
Rose is the one who's keen.'

'Yes, I've seen her out and around on a
number of occasions.' Bridie had an alarming
thought. 'She's not about to suddenly come in,
is she?'

'I doubt it very much. Nor the groom. As
far as they're concerned the horses are bedded
down for the night.'

How lovely she looked, lan mused. There was
something about her that drew him the way a
moth is drawn to light.

Bridie had another sip of wine thinking she
could get to like this.

'Can I come and sit beside you?'

She nodded.

He did. 'And hold your hand?'

'Wait till I finish my wine.'

'Of course.'

'I've already told you about my life in
Glasgow,' Bridie said. 'So why don't you tell
me about yours at The Haven and while you
were away studying.'

'It's boring, Bridie. Believe me.'

'I'd still like to hear.

lan began to speak and the minutes slipped
all too quickly by.


*
455


Autumn had finally arrived, Georgina reflected
gazing out of her bedroom window. Willie had
already dressed and gone about some estate
business so she was on her own.

Georgina left the window, crossed to the fire ;
that had been lit earlier and sat in front of it.
She'd miss breakfast that morning, having no 1
appetite whatsoever.	.

There was no doubt about it, she thought. I
None at all. And, according to the dates and
her own instincts, Andrew was the father.

She gently rubbed her stomach, thinking of
the life growing inside. Her child. Hers and I
Andrew's.


*


Andrew stared at the envelope knowing who
the letter was from having recognised the
handwriting. He sighed. No doubt a proposal
from Georgina suggesting they get together
again.

He thought she'd understood when he'd said
it was all over between them. Understood and
accepted the fact. Apparently not.

He slowly slit open the envelope.


*


'I wish I could take you to a dance,' lan
declared.


Bridie stared at him in astonishment. 'A
dance?'

'Yes, why not. I'd enjoy that.'


456

She laughed. 'I think I would too.'

'I'd take you in my arms and we'd trip the
light fantastic as they say.'

Bridie shivered slightly, imagining it.

'Or a ball, which is just a fancy dance with
food. I'd buy you the prettiest gown there was
and you'd be the belle of the ball.'

She laughed again. 'Hardly that. Especially if
Miss Moira McLaren was present.'

'You'd be the belle of the ball to me, Bridie,
which is all that would count. I wouldn't be
able to take my eyes off you.'

Nor she hers off him, she thought. How at
ease they were together nowadays, and how she
looked forward to these meetings in the stables.
In a way they'd become her whole life. And lan,
true to his word, had never spoilt them by trying
any funny business for which she was immensely
grateful.

lan suddenly frowned. 'Andrew Drummond
has written to Pa saying he's paying us a visit.
I don't like that man.'

'But why? He's always pleasant, to the staff
anyway.'

'I don't know, Bridie, but I neither like
nor trust him. He always reminds me of a

snake.'

She found that highly amusing. 'Why a

snake?'

'Sort of slippery and slimy. At least that's my

opinion of him.'

'Well, I can't say he's ever struck me that
way. And he always leaves a decent tip. There's
certainly nothing mean about Mr Drummond.'


457



'He's rich you know. Owns a whisky
distillery.'

'So I believe.'

'He and Pa were together in Ireland, served in
the same regiment. That's where Pa met him.'

'I can't remember if I mentioned but my
father fought in the war with the Highland
Light Infantry, the HLI. Now there's a famous
regiment.'

They are indeed.'

'Sometimes, when he's in his cups, he'll
mention odd things about the war, but not
very often. He's always extremely upset after
he has.'

'Understandable,' lan nodded, thinking how
lucky he was not to have been caught up in
that carnage. Thank God and all his angels he'd
been too young.

'What's wrong with Mrs Seaton?' Bridie
asked.

'Wrong?'

'She certainly hasn't been herself of late.
The staff have been talking about it. Several
times she's nearly bitten someone's head off for
nothing at all.'

lan pulled a face. 'There's nothing wrong with
her that I'm aware of.'

'Don't repeat this but Mrs Coltart is most
concerned. I overheard a conversation between
her and Mrs Kilbride in which she said how
difficult your stepmother had been recently.'

lan thought about that. 'Now you mention it
she has been a bit tetchy. And off her food. Not
that she eats a great deal at the best of times


458


but she's been picking like a sparrow these last
couple of weeks. Pa ticked her off only the other


night.'

'Maybe she's ill?'

'Or it could be female problems.'

Bridie blushed. 'lan!'

'Sorry if that offended you. It wasn't meant


to.'

'Well ... it did and didn't. I just don't like

that sort of thing being mentioned. Not in mixed
company anyway.'

'Then I shan't again.'

'Thank you.'

Perhaps Georgina was ill, lan mused. For
not only was she off her food and tetchy but
decidedly pale into the bargain.

'If I learn anything I'll let you know.'

'And it'll be strictly between us,' Bridie
promised. 'I'm not one for gossiping and
certainly not where my employers are concerned.'

'Good for you, girl.'

She adored it when he called her girl. There
was an intimacy about the way he said it that
never failed to give her a thrill.

'I've been doing a lot of thinking about you,'
lan stated slowly.

'Oh?'

'Well, us really.'

'And?'

'I love you and you love me, right?'

She nodded.

'Well, we can't go on as we are, meeting up
in the stables whenever we can.'

She studied him curiously. 'What else can we


459



do? I'm me and you're you. As we've already agreed, considering our different stations in life.,
an impossible situation.'

'I wonder,' he brooded.

'lan, you know it is. You'll meet someone
else in time, someone suitable and forget all
about me.'

He shook his head. 'No matter what happens,
Bridie, I'll never forget you. Nor do I think we
should dismiss our love so lightly.'

'Lightly! I'm hardly doing that.'

'Well, it seems as though you are.'

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. 'I I
assure you, lan, that isn't so. But as I said, it's
an impossible situation.'

'Perhaps not,' he breathed. 'Perhaps not.'


*


Rose was doing her best not to glare at Andrew
sitting across the table from her. She'd hardly
said half a dozen words during the entire
luncheon, letting Georgina prattle on which
she had done most effectively.

Willie sighed and laid aside his napkin. 'You'll
have to excuse me, Andrew, but I have a few
more hours of work. Things that just have to
be done today.'

'I understand, old boy.'

'I'm sure Georgina and Rose will be able to
entertain you.'

1


'You'll have to excuse me as well,' Rose
declared, rising as her father had done. 'But
I've developed a splitting headache.'


460

'Poor dear,' Georgina sympathised.

'So if you don't mind I'll go to my room and
lie down.'

'Of course,' Georgina nodded, secretly delighted
as she'd been wondering how she was going to
get Andrew on his own.

Georgina smiled at Andrew when Willie and
Rose had gone. 'I thought we might go for a
stroll?' she suggested.

'That would be nice.'

'Then shall we get our coats. It's rather nippy
out there.'

Andrew came to his feet and helped Georgina
from her chair. He guessed this to be a ploy so
they could speak together.

'It's a pity you can't stay the night,' Georgina
said as they moved away from the table.

'Yes, it is,' he lied. He'd never had any
intention of staying the night and had only come
to The Haven because of the urgent pleading in
Georgina's letter. He was also curious about 'the
news' she had for him. Now that sounded rather
mysterious.

'So,' he said when they were well out of
earshot of the house. 'What's this all about?'

Georgina was suddenly nervous. 'Thank you
for coming.'

Andrew didn't reply to that.

'The thing is, Andrew, I'm pregnant. And
by you.'

He came up short, stunned. 'Pregnant?'

'That's right.'

'Are you absolutely sure?'

'Absolutely.'


461



Andrew, without a hat, ran a hand through
his hair. 'You've rather caught me by surprise,'
he confessed.

'It was always a possibility.'

'I appreciate that . . . but . . . ' He broke off
to stare into the distance. 'How do you know
it's mine?' he asked softly.

'The dates, Andrew. It has to be you. Please
don't ask me to go into the details of why I'm
sd sure, but I am.'

A baby, Christ Almighty! No wonder she'd
been so mysterious about 'the news'.

'How far gone are you?'

'Work it out for yourself. It happened the last
time we were together.'

He took a deep breath. 'Let's keep walking.
It might look strange if we were seen standing
still talking for too long.

'How do you feel about this?' he queried. I

'Delighted. I'd given up the hope of ever
conceiving. I don't think any woman feels truly
fulfilled until she's had a child.'

'Hmmh,' he muttered. 'I presume you haven't
told Willie.'

'About you or being pregnant?'

Andrew swallowed hard. 'About being pregnant.'

'No, I wanted to speak to you first.'

He almost didn't want to ask the question.
'Why, Georgina?'

'Because I thought it might alter matters
between us.'	,

'You mean about you leaving Willie and
coming to me?'

'Yes.'


462

They walked a little way in silence before he
eventually replied. 'It doesn't, Georgina. I'm
sorry, but there you are.'

'I didn't think it would somehow. But I
wanted to give you the opportunity. Just in


case.'
'It's the same as it was, Georgina. I don't

want to hurt Willie.'

'And yet you slept with me.'

'I was wrong to do that, terribly wrong. But
the flesh was weak, I'm afraid and you were
willing. Or to be truthful, more than willing.
Downright eager.'

It might be true but she could have done
without hearing that. It was both humiliating
and degrading.

'Will you now pass the baby off as Willie's?'

'What else can I do if you won't have me.'

'I won't, Georgina. I want you to believe that
and not come up with some crackpot notion that
by leaving Willie I'll take pity on you because of the child. I won't, I assure you.'
'You can be a hard bastard, can't you, Andrew
Drummond?' She almost hissed.
'When I have to be, Georgina. When I have
to be. And this is one of those instances.'

Georgina closed her eyes for a moment,
remembering how it had been with Andrew
and what it was like with Willie.

Til be godfather if you wish?' Andrew smiled.

If they hadn't still been in sight of the house
she'd have slapped him.


463




26


They were having aperitifs before dinner and
Willie was in an expansive mood. To his
irritation lan found himself in conversation
with Andrew. He was pleased Andrew was
leaVing directly after their meal.

'Excuse me,' Georgina said in a raised
voice, rounding on everyone. 'But I have an
announcement to make.'

Andrew tensed, guessing what was coming
next. Please God, for Willie's sake, she didn't
name him as the father.

Georgina hooked an arm round Willie's and
gazed deeply into his eyes. She might have been
a woman totally in love.

'Yes, my dear?' Willie smiled.

'I had considered telling you this when we
were alone, but on second thoughts decided to
share it with the family at the same time. And
our good friend Andrew of course.'

She paused dramatically. 'I'm expecting a
baby.'

Andrew drew in a deep breath and held it,
wondering if she was about to drop the second
bombshell.

'A baby!' Willie exclaimed.

'That's what I said.'

'By all that's . . . ' Willie threw back his head.
'Wonderful!'

'I thought you'd be pleased.'


464

'Pleased! I'm far more than that. Oh, my
darling, my sweet, sweet darling.' He pulled
Georgina into an embrace and kissed her.

'Well,' lan murmured, taken aback. This was
a bit of a shock.

Rose flew at Georgina and pecked her on the
cheek. 'Congratulations! I'm delighted for the
pair of you.'

'And so am I,' lan added, not quite sure if
he was or not. A baby at Willie's age, even
Georgina's, seemed a little obscene somehow.

'And congratulations from me,' Andrew
beamed. Crossing to Willie he shook him
warmly by the hand. 'You old dog, you.'

'This calls for a celebration,' Willie declared,
eyes glinting with moisture. 'Jeannie, can you
go and fetch some champagne.'

Jeannie Swanson, who'd been handling round
canapes, nodded, quickly got rid of the plate
she was holding, and rushed from the room.
She couldn't wait to tell the rest of the staff.

'How?' Willie queried of Georgina, totally
bemused.

Georgina had the grace to blush. 'I think you
know how, Willie.'

He was suddenly covered in confusion and
glanced guiltily at first Rose then lan. 'I didn't
mean that literally. But . . . '

'It just happened, angel,' Georgina interjected
sweetly. 'The way these things do.'

'Of course.'

'Congratulations, Pa,' lan said, extending a

hand.

'Thank you, son.'


465



'An addition to the family lan mused. 'How
about that.'

'How about it,' Willie enthused. He'd said to
Georgina they should have a child and now they
were going to. It was almost as though God had
been listening.

Georgina was steadfastly refusing to meet
Andrew's eye, as she'd been doing since they'd
met up that evening. Despite her outward show
of Move and affection to Willie she felt sick
inside.

Willie glanced over at Andrew. 'And you must
be godfather, Andrew. I insist.'

The look Georgina suddenly shot at Andrew
for the briefest of seconds was like an arrow
directed straight at his heart.	i

'I shall be honoured, Willie. Thank you.' f

Willie turned again to Georgina. 'When,
eh y

WAA


'We'll discuss the details later, darling. If you
don't mind, that is.'

'No no, I fully understand.'

Mrs Coltart appeared carrying a tray on which
was the bottle of champagne and appropriate
glasses. Now she knew why Georgina had been
out of sorts recently.

'May I offer my congratulations, madam,' she
said, placing the tray on the sideboard.

'You may, Mrs Coltart. And thank you.'

'And to you, sir.'

'Thank you, Mrs Coltart. Will you see the
staff get a drink. I think they should.' -x

'I shall, sir.'

A baby brother or sister, Rose was thinking, i


466



How scrumptious. She absolutely adored babies.

Til do the honours,' Willie declared, detaching
himself from Georgina and going over to the
tray. Seconds later the cork popped and the
champagne was flowing.

'A toast,' Andrew proposed when the glasses
had been charged and handed round. 'To the
newest member of the Seaton family. May his
or her life be a long and happy one.'

The wine tasted like gall in Georgina's mouth.


*


Andrew was deep in thought as he drove back
to Drummond House in the Rolls. What a day
that had been and no mistake!

Georgina pregnant by him, what a heart
stopper. Thank God she'd kept her mouth
shut about who the true father was. It would
have been a disaster if she hadn't.

The expression on Willie's face when she'd
made her announcement was one he'd never
forget. He shuddered to think what the
expression would have been had Georgina
chosen to divulge their secret.

He couldn't have been happier for Willie
whom he liked enormously. Willie's joy had
truly been a sight to behold.

And he was to be godfather. That both
amused and pleased him. He only prayed the
child took more after its mother than it did its
father. It might be tricky if not.

And what was wrong with Rose? She'd avoided
him during the entire day. Something was


467


definitely wrong, but what? All he could put
it down to was his not proposing. It could only
be that.
Surely.


*

'It's for you, Scan,' Kathleen declared, coming m into the kitchen followed by Noddy Gallagher.

'Hello, Noddy,' Scan said.

'Aye, hello. I was wondering if I could have
a word.'

'Of course you can.'

Noddy glanced over at Pat sitting in his chair
and then Alison playing in front of the fire. 'In
private like if you don't mind.'

Pat frowned. Gang business no doubt. It was
bad enough that Scan was involved without
bringing it into his house. He didn't like that
one little bit. In fact he downright resented it.
Not that he'd say anything mind, at least not
to Scan. There was no fear of that.

'Come through to my bedroom, we'll talk
there.'

Kathleen's expression was also one of
disapproval. It worried her dreadfully that Scan
was running with a gang. She'd tried to speak
to him about it on several occasions but he'd
cut her short declaring he'd do as he bloody well
wanted and that was that. On the other hand,
she had to admit, though reluctantly, the money
he was bringing in was more than helpful. Why,
only the previous week, even though Pat was
grafting again, he'd upped his lodge once more.


468

t

1

Whatever else you said about Sean you couldn't accuse him of not taking care of his family. He
was a saint where that was concerned.

'So what is it, Noddy?' Sean queried, closing
his bedroom door behind them.

'It's Mo, Sean. The Long got to him.'


*


Sean, with Noddy alongside, strode down the
ward. How he hated hospitals. He'd never have
admitted it but they frightened the hell out
of him.

They found Mo at the top of the ward, his
face swathed in bandages. 'You've been in the
wars then, Mo,' Sean said, sitting on the single
chair provided.

Mo's eyes, filled with pain, fastened on him.
His eyes and mouth had been left uncovered.
'Hello, Sean. Good of you to come. You too,
Noddy,' he mumbled.

'So what happened?'

Mo swallowed hard. The and Shelagh were
in town doing a wee bit of shopping like
in Sauchiehall Street. When we'd finished I
suggested a drink in the State Bar. You know,
that pub in Holland Street?'

'I know it,' Sean confirmed.

'Well, we went downstairs and were having a
right old chinwag when it started. As it turned
out there were three members of the Long at
the next table.'

'Had they followed you?'

'No, they were there when we arrived. I didn't


469


I

know they were Long but they recognised me
after a while. They started taunting me, Sean,
me and the gang. Said we were all a bunch of
fucking poofters.'

That instantly enraged Scan, touching a sore
point. His eyes became diamond hard. 'Did they
indeed.'

'Aye they did. Poofters, nancy boys and shirt
lifters. Said they were surprised to see me out
with a lassie.'

Sean fought to control his anger. 'Did they
tell you they were Long?'

'As soon as they recognised me. Though how
they did that I don't know. I'd never seen any
of them before in my life.'
'What happened then?'

'It all got a bit heated, them threatening and
that. Poor Shelagh was terrified out of her wits.'
'I can imagine. Go on.'

'Christ, my face itches,' Mo groaned. 'All I
want to do is scratch but they warned me not
to. The doctor that is. Sadistic bastard and no
mistake.'

'I said go on, Mo.'	

Mo paused, and took a breath. 'I thought 

there was going to be a barney there and then.

I mean, no one calls me a poof and gets away _

with it.'	"I

Sean winced.	. '

'Then those two big buggers they have at the

bottom of the stairs, do you remember them?

Huge sods dressed in long black coats, who

keep an eye on the place, came over and told

the Long to leave.


470


'The Long protested it was all my fault but
the coats were having none of it. After a few
minutes' argument the Long were escorted
upstairs and shown the door. I, stupidly, thought
that was the end of it. I should have known
better. Anyway, I eventually got Shelagh calmed
down and we had another drink. Then, still very
shaken, she said she wanted to go home.'

Noddy was listening to all this in grim silence,
thankful it wasn't he who'd gone into the State
Bar at that particular time. Three, armed with
razors, against one was no joke.

'So up the stairs we went, me carrying the
shopping, and out on to Holland Street.'

Mo halted, then swore viciously. 'As I said, I
should have known better. They jumped us out
of an alleyway. I hadn't a chance against three,
Sean. Not with Shelagh there to worry about.
I got one good kick in and then I was down
and they were at me. Shelagh was screaming
her head off as they did their cutting, then they
were off like three bullets.'

'Shit,' Sean muttered. 'How bad is it?'

Mo took another deep breath. 'I said the
doctor was a sadistic bastard. I doubt his
stitching was all that neat and careful. He
was sewing me up as though I was a joint in
a fucking butcher's shop.'

'How bad, Mo?'

'There are more than twenty marks, Sean,
some very deep. I'm going to ... I'm going
to . . . ' Mo's head dropped and he sobbed.
'Look like a monster for the rest of my life.'

Sean's hands clenched, then slowly unclenched.


471


'I'm sorry, china,' he whispered.

'So am I, Sean. So am I. It means the end
of Shelagh and me of course.'

'Maybe not.'

'Don't try and kid me, Sean. What lassie,
especially having been through that, would
want to be tied up to the nightmare my
face is going to be? No no, I've lost her all
right.'

'Has she been to see you?'

'Nope. Nor do I expect her to. She's gone,
Sean. And I can't say I blame her.'

'Och, maybe that's not the case, Mo.'

Mo almost grinned under his bandages, but
it would have been too painful. 'If you were a
lassie would you want someone with a face like
I'm going to have? I doubt it very much.'

Sean felt for Mo, he truly did. 'How long are
you in here for?'

'No idea. Until it heals I suppose. But maybe
they'll let me home before then. The doctor says
he's worried about infection, though, according
to him, they've done all they can to safeguard
against that.'

'Can you describe these Long?' Sean asked
quietly.

Mo thought about that. 'Not really. They
were just ordinary Glasgow keelies. Nothing
that would distinguish any of them. Though
I'd know them if I see them again. Oh aye,
I'll know them all right.'

Sean had to think about this, digest what
he'd been told. 'Shall I have a word with
Shelagh?'


472

m



'Don't, Sean. Please. Just leave her be.'
'All right then, pal. Now is there anything I

can get you?'

'Oh aye, there is indeed. How about a new

face?'


*


'Do you think it was intentional?' Bobby
O'Toole asked.

They were at 'the place', Sean and his
lieutenants gathered together to discuss what
had happened to Mo Binchy. Scan's expression
was a dark scowl.

'I don't know,' Sean replied. 'According to
Mo it was a chance meeting where one thing
led to another.'

'I think they're taking the piss,' Dan Smith
said. 'I mean, this is the second time they've
had a go. Don't forget Pete Murray.'

'I'm not,' Sean growled.

'They're getting out of order,' Sammy Renton
declared.

'And treating us like clowns,' Don McGuire
added.

Sean had a gulp from his screwtop. Poofters
they'd called the Samurai! Nancy boys and shirt
lifters. His stomach knotted with the anger that
had been with him since Mo had uttered those
words.

He closed his eyes for a few moments,
conjuring up a picture of Big Bill Bremner.
He'd come to hate that cunt.

'So what do we do?' Jim Gallagher queried.


473


'What would you do, Jim?'

'I've no idea. Brains aren't exactly my
department.'

That raised a laugh, though not from Scan.

Tm not sure yet,' Scan mused quietly. 'I
don't want to rush into anything we might all
regret.'

'Why don't we mark one of their blokes in
retaliation?' Sammy Renton suggested.

Sean fixed his gaze on Sammy. 'That would
lead to more retaliation from them. And so on
and so forth until it was all-out war. Is that
what you want?'

Sammy paled. 'No.'

'Well, neither do I. Because it's a war we'd
lose simply because of numbers. We'd be up
against something like four to one, maybe more,
which are hardly good odds.'

Sean rubbed his forehead. This was a
quandary right enough. He must control his I
instincts and think clearly. That was what
leadership was all about. Or part of it anyway.
He mustn't react through anger, though God
knew he had enough of that.

Big Bill Bremner, he pictured the man again.
There would be a reckoning one day, of that he
was determined. But in the meantime . . .

1

*

Willie removed his tie and draped it over a chair.
'I've been thinking,' he declared.

Georgina glanced over at him from where she
too was undressing. 'That sounds ominous.'


474


*


He laughed. 'Not really. It's about you
actually.'

'And?'

'Dr Duthie is a grand old chap, bags of
experience with pregnant women and childbirth
and so on. But perhaps you should go and see
a specialist in Edinburgh. Just to be on the
safe side.'

Georgina regarded him with amusement.
'We're not being a little over-protective, are we?'

'Certainly not!' Willie blustered. 'But I
consider it a good idea.'

'Dr Duthie assures me all's as it should be. So
why bother with a specialist? That would only be
a waste of good money.'

'To hell with money where you and the child
are concerned. It's unimportant.'

Georgina was touched by that. 'It really isn't
necessary, Willie.'

He sat on the edge of the bed and began
undoing his shirt. 'As I said, just to be on the
safe side.'

'You sound like an old woman,' Georgina
teased.

'I do not!'

She wagged a finger at him. 'Oh yes you do!'

Tm only trying to do what's best, love,' he
said in a quiet, contrite voice.

He was suddenly like a little boy, she thought,
a warmth springing up inside her. But then
weren't most men a lot of the time? Even
Andrew on occasion.

'Nothing will go wrong, Willie, I promise you,'
she said softly.


475


'I know but . . . Well this is maybe our last
chance to have a child. I want to make sure
I've done everything I can. I don't want to be
negligent in any way.'

She crossed to the bed and sat beside him.
'You really are a sweetheart you know.'

His face lit up. 'Am I?'

'You certainly are. A lovable., adorable man.
I was very lucky to find you.'
v She had been too, she reflected. With the state
of things after the war she could easily have
become an old maid like so many women of
her generation. In a way she wished she'd never
met Andrew Drummond. Life would have been
so much easier without him.

She ran a hand over Willie's hair. Til go to
Edinburgh if you wish. Of course I will.'

He turned, put his arms round her and laid a
cheek on the valley of her breasts. How at peace
he felt there, sublimely so. He drew in a deep
breath of the scent of her which he so adored.
'Oh Georgina,' he whispered.

She thought again of Andrew. That was gone
for ever. She hadn't reconciled herself to the
fact yet, but would. She'd have to. And in the
meantime count her blessings.

'Do you think it would be all right?' he
whispered.

'Would what be all right?'

'You know.'

She smiled. Tm only pregnant, Willie. With
quite a way to go yet. Of course it'll be all
right.'

'I don't want to hurt you in any way.'


476

'You won't,' she assured him.

'Or endanger things.'

'You must have made love to Mary when she
was pregnant?'

Willie closed his eyes. 'To be honest that was
such a long time ago I can't quite remember.
But I think I must have done.'

'There you are then.'

Willie sighed with contentment. How wonderful
it all was. Georgina, a baby of theirs on the way.
What else could he ask for.

'I don't care if it's a boy or girl, as long as
it's healthy,' he murmured.

'Then we won't be disappointed.'

'No.'

She started to rock to and fro while he
continued to embrace her. After a short while
she too felt at peace.


*


'Come in!' Andrew called out when there was a
knock on his office door. It was proving a bugger
of a day with all manner of things going wrong.
And now he'd just found something else to give
him a headache.

'Hello, old chap.'

Andrew looked up and smiled. 'Jack! This is
a surprise.'

'I was bored and thought I might take a
turn up here to find out how you are. Are
you busy?'

'Nothing that can't wait. Come and sit down.
There's a chair in front of my desk.'


477


The woman who'd escorted Jack up to
Andrew's office closed the door and returned
to her duties. Although Jack knew the way to
the office it was a difficult route and someone
always accompanied him in case there proved
to be a problem.

Jack found the chair and sat. 'Any free whisky
going today?' he asked hopefully.

Andrew laughed. 'For you there's always
sofrne. I'll get it.'

'I hope you're joining me. I hate drinking on I
my own.'	I

'You're damned right I'll join you. I could*
just use a dram.'

Jack sniffed. 'You know this office has always
smelt the same as long as I've known it. The 
same as when your father was here.'

'Really? I can't say I've noticed.'

'Well, you wouldn't when you're here so often.
It takes an outsider to recognise these things.'

Andrew poured two large drams and placed
one in Jack's hand. 'That'll stiffen your
backbone,' he joked, returning to his own
chair.

'I wasn't aware it needed stiffening.'

'You know what I mean.'

Jack smiled. 'Your arse in parsley, old boy.'

Andrew smiled also. 'Slainthe.'

'Slainthe.'

They both drank.

'I confess,' Jack said. 'The real reason for me
calling is that I couldn't wait till Friday night
to hear what happened at the Seatons. Damned
curiosity got the better of me.'


478

Andrew leant back in his chair. 'What
Georgina had to say was something of a shock,
Jack. She's pregnant, by me.'

'Aahhh!' Jack breathed.

'She wanted to give me one last chance to
change my mind. Which I didn't.'

'And Willie?'

'Is ecstatic, believes the baby's his. He was
happy as a dog with two tails when I left.'

'Well, well,' Jack mused.

'Georgina made her announcement that night
at dinner after we'd spoken earlier. Carried it off
rather well I thought.'

'No regrets then?'

'None, Jack. None at all.'

'That's good, old boy. Now what about Rose?'

'Gave me the cold shoulder all the time I was
there. Simply didn't want to know.'

'Give her time. It's hurt pride, that's all.'

'I'm rather coming round to your way of
thinking you know. Though Heaven knows how
Georgina would react.'

Jack laughed. 'That could be a problem.'

'But that's a bridge we'll cross when we come
to it. we come to it.'

Jack drained his glass. 'Dashed fine whisky
that.'

Andrew smiled. Til get you another.'


*


'I've decided, I'm going to marry you,' lan
stated.

Bridie stared at him in astonishment.


479


Tm going to marry you,' he repeated. 'I've
thought long and hard and that's what I'm going
to do.'

Bridie shook her head. 'You're havering., lan.
I said to you before that's an impossibility.
Our stations in life, the fact I work for your
father . . . '

His expression became grim. 'Bugger the class
system, it's a load of old nonsense anyway.
Archaic in the extreme. You're as good as me,
the only difference between us is that I come
from money while you don't.'

'And that money makes a huge difference, lan.
You're well educated, live in a mansion and own
untold acres whereas I hail from the humblest i
of Glasgow tenements and used to work in a
lemonade factory. My accent is as broad as they
come while yours is refined, the voice of a born
gentleman. And think what people would say.
They'd be horrified, accusing you of letting the
side down and all that.'

'Gentlemen have married beneath them
before,' he argued.

'But not a servant from their own house. One
day down on my hunkers cleaning a grate and
the next swanning around like Lady Muck,
ordering about the self same servants I've been
working alongside.'

lan had to grin at the picture that conjured up.
He could just imagine Mrs Coltart's reaction.
Not to mention Mrs Kilbride's.

Bridie's tone softened. 'You would shame
your father, lan. And surely you wouldn't
do that.'


480

'Georgina never came from a grand or
moneyed family.'

'I know, I've heard. But it is a professional
background. And she didn't know anyone in
the area when she arrived as your da's bride.
She was acceptable, lan. I would never be.'

He jutted out his chin defiantly. 'I'm still
going to speak to my father.'

Her eyes moistened. 'Then you're a fool, but
I love you all the more for it.'

'There must be a way, Bridie. There must.'

'No, lan, I don't believe there is. We're never
to be. At least not in this life.'

Tm still going to speak to Father. And I'll
do so tomorrow while he's still in such a good
mood over this baby.'

'There'll be a row.'

'Let there. But he'll hear me out.'

'And what if you get me the sack?'

lan hadn't thought of that. Til ensure you
don't. You have my word on that.'

'I still wish you wouldn't. Even though it
breaks my heart to say it.'

'I love you, Bridie Flynn, and won't be denied.
So there.'

The next evening, he thought. That's when
he'd request to see Willie alone.

'Come here,' she said. 'My prince, my hero.'

'You sound very melodramatic when you talk
like that.'

'Do I?'

'Very.'

'But you are my prince and hero. Something
no one can ever take away from me.'


481


II


27


Mo Binchy laid Shelagh's letter aside. She
might have at least called on him, he thought
bitterly., but no, she'd taken the easy way out
and written.

tt was as he'd known it would be. She didn't
want to see him again, she said, because of
the violence he was caught up in. But he .knew
better. Oh, aye, so he did. The real*
reason was his face and the monster he'd been
turned into.

Reaching out for the letter he slowly crumpled
it into a ball which he laid on his bedside
table.

Tears appeared in his eyes that were soaked
up by the swathe of bandages.	*
*


'This is a joke I presume?' Willie said, staring
in disbelief at an extremely nervous lan. I

lan shook his head. 'No, Pa. I've never been
more serious in my life.'

'Bridie Flynn,' Willie muttered. By all that
was Holy.

'I love her, Pa, and she loves me. That's the
long and short of it.'

'Is it indeed,' Willie replied sarcastically.

'Yes, Pa.'

He mustn't lose his temper, Willie told


482


himself. That wouldn't do any good at all.
'And how long has this been going on?'

'Long enough for us both to know our own
minds.'

'I see.'

Willie rose from the chair in his study and
crossed to the whisky decanter from which he
poured himself a hefty one. He didn't offer one
to lan. He took a substantial gulp, shuddered
slightly, then topped up his glass again after
which he returned to his chair. From there he
studied lan thoughtfully.

'The whole idea is preposterous, you must
realise that?'

'Unusual perhaps, difficult even, but hardly
preposterous.'

'Of course it is!' Willie snapped back. 'She's
a servant, for God's sake. A maid.'

'That's right.'

'And you want to marry her.'

'I intend to, Pa.'

Willie took a deep breath, then had another
gulp of whisky. 'We'd be a laughing stock, son.
Doesn't that bother you?'

'Of course it does.'

'Well then?'

'It'll blow over in time. People will forget.'

Willie barked out a short laugh. 'I doubt that
very much. Country folk have long memories as
you should well know. And what about the social
aspect? You'd never be invited anywhere decent
again, and if you were they'd be sniggering at
you, and her, behind your backs. Not a very
pleasant prospect.'


483


'No,' lan agreed in a low voice.
'So let's forget this nonsense and pretend this
conversation never took place.'
'I'm sorry. Pa. I can't do that.'
Willie sighed. 'What about the family name,
does that mean nothing to you? You'd be
dragging it down into the dirt.'

'There's nothing wrong with Bridie,' lan

retorted hotly. 'Except that she's working class.'

'That is precisely what's wrong with her. She

probably holds a knife and fork the way a navvy

would a pick and shovel.'

'Those niceties can be taught.'
'And her voice? Every time she speaks it's
like walking down Sauchiehall Street. Fine for
a servant lassie but hardly for the wife of
my son.'

lan couldn't help himself. 'I didn't know you
were such a snob, Father.'

Willie's eyes flashed, momentarily betraying
his anger. 'But I am, lan. I most certainly
am. Though I would hardly describe it as
snobbishness.'

'But it is, you must see that.'
'I don't agree,' Willie said emphatically. 'We
have our place and they theirs. That's how things
are and always will be.'

'You make me ashamed of you.'
'You ashamed of me!' Willie finally exploded.
'Don't be impertinent, boy. It's me who at
the moment is ashamed of you. Why, you're
beginning to sound like one of those bloody
socialists, scum of the earth.'
Willie brought himself back under control.


484


I

'And what about the rest of us? Myself and
Georgina? Not to mention Rose. Why should we
have to live under such a stigma, for it would
affect us as well you know. We'd be pariahs.'

'We could get married and go away for a
while, Pa. Then return later.'

Willie shook his head. 'That would only be
putting off the evil day. No, such a marriage
is completely out of the question. I forbid

it.'

'And what if I go ahead and marry her
anyway?'

lan was quite capable of doing that, Willie
thought. There was a strength in the lad he'd
seen growing over recent years. 'Then you'd pay
the price.'

'Which is?'

Willie stared his son straight in the eye. 'I'd
throw you both off the estate then disinherit
you.'

That shocked lan to the core. 'You wouldn't!'

'But I would, son, and you'd better believe it.
At the moment you're my son and heir. Marry
that girl and you cease being the latter.'

This was the last thing lan had expected.
Thrown off the estate, leave The Haven. He
couldn't even begin to comprehend such a thing.
It was unimaginable.

'Isn't that rather drastic, Pa?' he choked.

'Yes, I'd say so. It merely reflects how strongly
I feel about all this. Don't forget I've got
Georgina and Rose to think about as well. I'm
not having our lives ruined because of you and
a housemaid.'


485


lan swallowed hard. 'Can I have some of that
whisky?'

'Help yourself.'

Willie watched lan's back as he crossed to the
decanter. That had certainly put a spoke in the
lad's wheel. He knew how much lan loved The
Haven. Well his choice was simple, between two
loves. The Haven and Bridie Flynn.

Besides, he wasn't at all convinced lan did love
the'lassie. It could well be an infatuation which
he didn't realise being young and inexperienced
with members of the opposite sex.

lan noted his hand was shaking as he raised
the glass to his lips. To say he was stunned
would be a complete understatement. Lose The
Haven! It made him feel sick just to think
about it.

Willie lit a cigarette and blew smoke in lan's
direction. 'Well?' he demanded harshly.

'I've got to consider this. Pa. It's not a
decision I should make on the spot.'
'I'm glad to hear it.'
'And there's no ... alternative?'
'None.'

The fiery liquid burned its way down lan's
throat into a knotted stomach.

'You'll get over her in time, I promise you,'
Willie said softly.

'I won't, Pa. This is the real thing.' .
'I got over losing your mother, though it was
hard. Damn hard. Then I met Georgina and
look how happy we are. You'll meet someone
else, I can guarantee it.'

'It's just not fair,' lan whispered.


486

1

f

'Life isn't, son. That's a lesson you'll have to
learn and which I thought you would have by
now. It isn't fair at all.'

lan replaced his glass, a vision of Bridie
swimming before his eyes. He had to talk to
her as soon as possible.

'Thanks for your time, Pa,' he said in a
cracked, slightly sarcastic, voice.

Willie didn't reply.

lan turned on his heel and left the study.


*


Scan and a few others were playing pontoon at
'the place' when Dan Smith burst into the room.
Scan was in a good mood as he was winning.

'What's your hurry?' Sean demanded, glancing
up. He then took in Dan's expression. 'You look
like you've seen a ghost.'

Dan winced while Sean went back to studying
the cards.

'It's Mo,' Dan gulped.

'Aye, what about him?'

'He's dead.'

Sean paused for a moment, then laughed. 'Go
on, pull the other one. It's no' April Fool's you
know.'

'He's dead I tell you.'

Those grouped round the table turned to stare
at Dan, disbelief on all their faces.

'Dead,' Sean repeated slowly.

Dan nodded.

'How?'

'I went to see him, take him a few things like.


487


Give him a wee bit of company. But when I got
there his bed had someone else in it.'

Dan paused. He couldn't believe this either.

'Go on.'

'I spoke to the Sister to ask where he was.
Apparently he died this afternoon.'

'Holy fuck Scan swore viciously.

'Of what?' Noddy Gallagher queried.

'Septi. . . septi... I can't remember the word
she used. But blood poisoning.'

Sean closed his eyes for a brief moment,
then opened them again. 'And how did he
get that?'

'From being marked of course. The Sister
explained they'd done all they could but
apparently it wasn't enough. The blood poisoning
hit right out of the blue and Mo was
gone before they knew it. She was awfully
sympathetic.'

Dan slumped into a chair and ran a hand over
his face. 'Is there any bevvy in the house?'

Sean reached into a pocket and pulled out
a crisp white fiver. 'There's none so go and
get some. I think we all need a drink after
this.'

Mo dead!

'The fucking Long. May they all roast in
Hell Jim Gallagher hissed.

'Aye,' his brother Noddy agreed.
Scan's right hand clasped and then unclasped
again. The Long would pay for this. By God
and all His angels they would.


*
488

lan jumped to his feet the moment Bridie
appeared in the stables. Going to her he took
her into his arms and held her tight.

'What's all this about, lan? You were in a
right old state when you spoke to me earlier.'

'How long have you got?'

'No more than half an hour, then I'll have to
be back.'

lan led her to a bale and sat her down. 'I
talked to my father about us.'

She stared into an anguished face. 'I take it
he wasn't best pleased.'

'He says if I marry you, or insist on marrying
you, he'll throw us both off the estate and
disinherit me.'

Bridie was appalled. 'Disinherit you! Oh,
lan.'

'He meant it too, believe me. I expected a
row, all manner of reactions, but to disinherit
me . . . ' He trailed off.

'Well, that's it then.'
'No it isn't!' lan retorted angrily. Tm not
going to be beaten so easily. I'm not going to
just cave in.'

'The Haven is your whole life, lan, you told
me that once.'

'It was. But now you both are. I can't give
up either of you.'

'You're going to have to, lan. And it's going
to be me. I can't have you losing The Haven
on my conscience. That would be too great a
burden to bear.'

lan wrung his hands.

'I said it was an impossible situation, lan, and


489


this just proves me right.'

'There must be a solution. There must be,'
lan croaked in despair.

'You say your father meant it.'

lan nodded.

'Then there isn't.' But there was, she thought.
Though it wasn't the solution lan was after.
There was nothing else for it, she was going
to have to hand in her notice and return to
Glasgow. What else could she do? If she
remained it would just tear them both apart.


lan put his arms round her. 'I won't give you
up, Bridie. Now I've found you I'll never let
you go.'

'And The Haven?'

'I won't let that go either.'

'Dear lan,' she said, and kissed him on the
cheek.

He drew the scent of her deep into his lungs.
How he wanted Bridie, so much so at times it was a physical ache. But he wouldn't even try and break his promise to her. She'd only sleep
with him if they got married and that's how it
would have to be.

They fell silent, each lost in their own
thoughts.


*


Willie stared across the room at Georgina who
was reading a magazine. Rose was tinkling on
the piano. Despite innumerable lessons when
younger she played atrociously.
He'd been thinking about lan and the


490

.1

P

conversation he'd had with his son. So far
he hadn't mentioned it to Georgina and the
question he was mulling over was, should he?

It was rare for him to keep something from his
wife, especially something of such importance.
And it was the same with her, she told him
everything.

He could just imagine what Georgina's
reaction would be if he did confide in her.
Fury on the one hand, possible hysterics on
the other. She would no doubt have it out with
lan which wouldn't help matters one little bit.

No, he decided, it was best he kept this to
himself. Best for all concerned.

He smiled, imagining the look of horror on
Georgina's face at the idea of being related to
a housemaid, especially one who'd been in their
service. She'd be mortified to say the least. If he
was a snob, which lan had accused him of being,
then Georgina was a far bigger one.

But then, he reflected, that was often the case
with the middle classes, from which Georgina
had come.


*


Scan watched stony-faced as the coffin was
lowered into the grave. The pallbearers were
all relatives of Mo's.

The Samurai were there in force to pay their
last respects to a fellow gangmember and friend.
They were standing in a group to one side of
the official mourners.

The Binchys hadn't been at all pleased when


491


they'd turned up, but nothing had been said,
though Mr Binchy had given them the most
contemptuous of looks.

Scan glanced over at Mrs Binchy sobbing
loudly and in a state of near collapse. It was only
her husband holding her upright that stopped
her tumbling to the ground.

'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . . ' the priest
intoned.

Scan fingered his black tie, remembering Mo
and the laughs they'd had together, hating the Long bastards who'd killed him. The heavy
marking had been bad enough. But death, that
was something else entirely. He hadn't failed to
note that the ex-fiancee Shelagh hadn't put in
an appearance. Probably too ashamed to do so,
he guessed.

He gazed at Mrs Binchy's normally handsome
face now ravaged with grief. The woman seemed
to have aged ten years overnight if not more.


*


Tm glad that's over,' Sammy Renton declared
as Sean and his lieutenants sat down in the
nearest pub.

'It's the first funeral I've ever been to,' Bill
O'Connell confessed.

The too,' Noddy added.

'You, Sean?' That from Jim Gallagher.

'Aye, I've been to them before. Though never
to one that was a pal and of my own age
group.'

'At least the rain held off,' said Don McGuire.


492

'There were times when I thought it was going
to bucket down.'

'Let's have a kitty,' Sean suggested. 'And I
don't know about youse lot but I'm going to
get pissed as a fart. Deid mockit beyond belief.
Mo would have approved of that.'

Several others nodded their heads in agreement.

'So what now, Sean?' Sammy asked.

'How do you mean?'

'About Mo. I know you said we can't take
them on because they outnumber us, or mark
one of them in return as that would just lead
to it all getting out of hand. But surely there's
something?'

Sean sighed. If there was he wished he could
think of it. He tossed a couple of pound notes
on to the table in front of him. 'Bill, you get
them in. Whiskies and chasers.'

'Aye right,' Bill replied, rising. He added his
contribution to the pile on the table before taking some out and heading for the bar.

An old man shuffled over to their table. He
was wearing a dirty shirt without a collar over
which was an ancient greasy coat. Grey bristles
surrounded a thin, vicious mouth filled with
cracked yellow and black stumps. On his head
was a cap as greasy as, if not greasier than, his
coat. The smell of him was appalling.

'Can I have a word, son,' he said to Sean, doffing his cap.

'Aye, what is it, Tally Jack?'

'I want to say how sorry I was to hear about
Mo. I knew him since he used to run the streets
as a wee shaver. He was a good lad.'


493


Scan nodded. 'One of the best.'

Tally glanced about him, then back at Sean.
'There's something I want to tell you.'

He eyed the money on the table. 'No' for cash
like. I usually charge, but not this time. This is for Mo.'

'Let's hear it, Tally.'

'I get around a lot, here there and everywhere.
All over the city doing a wee bit business now
and- again. Well, I was in a Long pub the other
night, The Thistle, do you know it?'

Sean shook his head.

'It's their main pub, at one time the landlord
was one of them. Anyway, Big Bill Bremner and
some of his cronies were there when a newcomer
arrived with the news of Mo's death.' Tally Jack
paused dramatically. 'Do you know what Big
Bill did?'

'What, Tally?'

Tally's eyes opened wide in indignation. 'The
swine laughed, so he did. Thought it helluva
funny.'

Sean went icy cold inside. 'He laughed?'

'That's right. He even bought a round to
celebrate.'

Sean's eyes had become diamond hard.
Laughed and bought a round to celebrate!

'Cunt,' Noddy whispered venomously.

'Aye, you're right there, son,' Tally nodded.
'I was disgusted so I was. Fair disgusted. In fact
I was so upset I left beer in my glass and just
walked out. That's how disgusted I was.'

Disgust wasn't what Sean felt, it was total and
utter outrage. Had Bremner no respect whatever!


494

m	Sean reached over and extracted a ten-shilling
note from the pile on the table. 'Here you are,
Tally. Take that.'

Tally shook his head. At that moment, down
to his last tanner and with a terrible thirst on

him, ten shillings was a fortune. 'I said I

-- wouldn't take cash, son, and I won't. That
I wasn't why I told you.'

Sean smiled. 'Take it and have a drink on
Mo. I insist.'

Tally Jack sniffed, his willpower crumbling.
'Well, if you insist. If you put it like that.'

'I do.'

A filthy claw of a hand accepted the note.
'God bless you, son.'

'And you, Tally Jack.'

The old man shuffled away, heading for a spot
further down the bar.

'Cunt,' Noddy repeated.

Sean, a deep frown creasing his forehead,
remained silent. When he finally did speak
- again it had nothing to do with Mo or Big
Bill Bremner.


*


Sean was drifting off to sleep when it came
to him. His eyes snapped open and he sat up
in bed.

'Of course,' he muttered. 'Of course.'

If Big Bill Bremner would agree.


*


495


Wrapped up warm against the bitter cold, lan
was standing outside watching dawn break.
Gradually light flooded the landscape, a truly
beautiful, magical sight.

A lump came into lan's throat. How could he
give all this up? He couldn't. He belonged here
and would die here. He was as much a part and
parcel of the estate as any of the trees, fields and
all the other living, growing things.

As part and parcel of the estate as he wanted
his son to be in time. This was his inheritance
and the inheritance he would eventually pass
down. An inheritance that had been in the
family for hundreds of years.

He sighed, torn inside. There had to be an
answer to his dilemma. Some way to make his
father accept Bridie as a daughter-in-law.

There just had to be.


*


'Ah, Bridie,' Willie said, without the customary
smile on greeting staff. 'Close the door behind you.'

She did, then crossed to stand in front of his
desk. 'Thank you for seeing me, sir.'

He laid down his pen and leant back
in his chair. He stared at Bridie through
uncompromising eyes. 'So what can. I do
for you?'

'lan spoke about us, I understand.'

Willie nodded. What was she going to do, put
forward some sort of argument in favour of the
union? He waited.


496


I

I


'Can this be confidential, sir? Just between the
pair of us. I don't want lan finding out.'

'If you wish.'

Bridie clasped her hands in front of her. 'I
want to give you notice, sir. If it's all right I'll
leave at the end of the month.'

That startled Willie, being so completely
unexpected.

'It's best if I simply slip away quietly, sir,
without anyone, least of all lan, knowing. That's
why I want it to be just between the pair of us. I
appreciate how inconvenient it'll be for you but
I'm sure you'll soon find a replacement.'

Willie took out his cigarettes and lit up. 'You
must love lan a great deal,' he said softly.

'I do, sir. With all my heart. That's why I
must go.'

He studied her, thinking what a remarkable
girl Bridie Flynn was. She'd have made lan a
worthy wife, if only her background had been
different.

'This is a big sacrifice you're making, Bridie.'

'I can't stay, sir, that's out of the question
feeling as I do about lan, and he me. Nor
will I let him lose The Haven. I told lan I
couldn't bear that on my conscience. Besides,
it would be between us for the rest of our
lives together. I don't want lan choosing me
and secretly regretting what he's lost.'

Willie nodded. 'You're very wise, Bridie.'

She flushed. 'Not really, Mr Seaton. It's only
common sense.'

'There's many wouldn't see it that way, but
there you are.'


497


'So are we agreed, sir?'

'We are indeed, Bridie. We are indeed.'

'And you won't tell anyone. Not even Mrs
Coltart. If anyone else knew it would be bound
to get out and perhaps back to lan.'

'Strictly between the pair of us, Bridie. My
word of honour.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'End of the month, eh? Pay day.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then I suggest you leave in the middle of the
morning when lan is out at work.' He made a
mental note to instruct Jock Gibson to send lan
to a far part of the estate.

Til do that, sir.'

Willie frowned at a sudden thought. 'Does lan
know where you live in Glasgow? He'll try and
follow you if he does, I shouldn't wonder.'

'No, sir, I've never mentioned my address.
Or even the area I come from. We have chatted
about Glasgow on several occasions but I've
never been specific.'

That was a relief, Willie thought. Trying to
find a single lassie in Glasgow without even
knowing her general whereabouts would be
like trying to locate the proverbial needle in
a haystack.

He then remembered he had Bridie's home
address on file. He'd remove that when she'd
gone back about her duties and destroy it.

Willie cleared his throat, momentarily embarrassed.
'I must say I admire you for this, Bridie.
Very much so.'

She didn't reply to that.


498

'I shall see, and don't take this the wrong
way, that you're amply rewarded for your
understanding.'

'Oh no, sir! That's not necessary.'

'You'll need to tide yourself over until you get
another position. Making that easier for you is
the least I can do. Please accept the gesture as
one from a grateful father.'

Bridie bit her lip. It would come in useful
after all.

'Well?'

'It seems like a bribe, sir.'

'Nothing of the sort. Don't forget you came
to me, I didn't approach you. So how can it
possibly be a bribe?'

She was still uncertain. Taking money in the
circumstances seemed so cheap somehow.

'Please, Bridie. And even if you say no it'll
be in your pay packet anyway.'

She relented. 'Very well, sir.'

'And furthermore, I shall drive you to the
station personally and see you safely aboard
your train.' And out of their lives, he thought.

'That would be kind of you, sir.'

A great pity, he reflected after she'd gone.
He approved of Bridie Flynn. But not her
background.

At least not where lan was concerned.


499



28


A nervous Shelagh was ushered into the room
where Sean was waiting for her. He eyed her
coldly. There were four others present, including
Noddy who'd fetched Shelagh, Jim Gallagher,
Bobfty O'Toole and Sammy Renton. They had
no idea why Sean wanted to see Shelagh.

Shelagh's hands were twitching and there was
fear in her eyes as she halted before Sean.

'I hope this isn't an inconvenience,' Sean said
sarcastically.

'No.'

'You weren't at Mo's funeral,' he accused.

She hung her head.

'Felt guilty did we?'

She gave a small nod.

'I thought as much.'

Sean took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled,
enjoying her discomfiture. For some reason he
found himself thinking of her and Mo in the
bedroom next door and the cries of passion
he'd overheard. That put an edge to his voice
when he next spoke.

'I want you to do something for us.'

'Anything,' she croaked.

'Good.'

His lips thinned outwards in an evil smile.
'Ever heard of Big Bill Bremner, leader of the Long ?'

'Mo mentioned him once or twice.'


500

'Well, I want you to carry a message to
him.'

Her head jerked up and her eyes flew open. TheI '

'Aye, you.'

'But why me?'

'Because you're a lassie and, as such,
presumably safe. It's too risky sending one
of us.'

Shelagh gulped.

'There's a pub called the Thistle that he uses a
lot. I believe he goes there every Saturday night,
sometimes staying till last orders. Other times he
and some of his chinas go on elsewhere. Another
pub or the dancing probably. The point is that
he's there on a Saturday night around seven
o'clock.'

She hadn't noticed it before but she did now,
a black-handled razor on the arm of Scan's chair.
She almost wet herself.

'What's the message?' she choked.


*


'One to one?' Peter O'Toole said to Sean when
Shelagh had gone.

'Aye, just the pair of us, face to face, with
assurances there'll be no repercussions from the
side that loses. This way numbers don't count,
you see. It'll be just Big Bill and me.'

Noddy shook his head. 'You're taking a
helluva risk, Sean. If Big Bill is even half as
good as his reputation he'll do for you.'

'Oh I don't think so,' Sean replied confidently.


501


The others, wary now, stared at him. 'What
have you got up your sleeve?' Noddy asked.

'Not up my sleeve, Noddy. But in my
hand.'

Noddy frowned. 'What does that mean?'

'It'll be a razor, won't it?' queried Sammy.

'It doesn't have to be, does it?'

'They're traditional. That's what I'd have
thought you'd use.'

'A, hopefully, will Big Bill. And you'd both
be wrong.'

Scan rose and crossed to the mantelpiece.
Reaching up he unhooked the Samurai sword
hanging there.	

'Holy fuck!' Noddy exclaimed.	

'I wonder if Big Bill will laugh when he sees
this,' Scan said mildly.


*

lan ran a hand over his fevered brow as he
prowled the corridors of the house as he'd been
doing for the past hour.

He was having terrible trouble sleeping of late.
He'd go to bed whacked out, then next thing he
knew it was two or three in the morning and
he was wide awake again. Tired still, but wide
awake. Experience had taught him that once
that happened he wouldn't drop off again. If
he stayed in bed he just tossed and turned, all
the while thinking of Bridie.

Bridie . . . Bridie . . . Bridie . . .

Time after time he found himself creeping
past her door, imagining her inside. Desperately


502

wishing he was there with her.

Bridie who now haunted him through every
waking moment. Bridie whom he loved. Bridie
whom he had to give up The Haven to have.

lan groaned and again ran a hand over his
forehead. Although it was cold he was raging
hot inside. If he hadn't known better he'd have
thought he was coming down with something.
But it was Bridie doing this to him.

There had been occasions recently when he'd
thought he was going mad, completely losing his
mind. And maybe he was.

lan Seaton, mad man. He smiled at that.
Funny really, if it wasn't so serious.

Despite the earliness of the hour he'd go
downstairs and have a drink, he decided. That
might calm him down a little. And if one didn't
do the job then he'd have two.

Or perhaps even three.



*


It was shortly before breakfast that Bridie spotted
lan at the far end of the corridor she'd just
turned into. She immediately stopped and shrank
against the wall.

Had he seen her? How could he when his
back was to her?

Dear God in Heaven, she thought. How could
she possibly endure this? There wasn't a day
passed that they didn't bump into each other
somewhere. And now he wanted to meet her in
the stables the following night.

Well, she wasn't going to go. She'd say


503


afterwards that she hadn't been able to get
away, that Mrs Coltart had set her some extra
duties.

Another fortnight before she left, a whole two
weeks. Every moment would be torture.

And what would it be like when the time did
arrive to leave? Could she just walk away?

She had to, she reminded herself. She simply
had to. No matter the pain and anguish it
caused her.

Leave and never see lan Seaton again. For
both their sakes.


*


'How are you today, Georgina?'

Georgina smiled at Rose across the table.
'Fine, thank you. Tip top as Willie might say.'

Willie beamed at his wife. 'You look positively
radiant, my dear. Pregnancy certainly suits
you.'

'But doesn't help my waistline. I'm fast
becoming quite swollen.'

'You mustn't fret about that. Your waist
will soon come back after the baby's born.
You'll see.'

'It will if I have anything to do with it. That
I promise you.'

'But nothing too hasty, darling. Gently does
it shall be the order of the day.'

Georgina didn't reply to that. Instead she
glanced over at Rose, her expression clearly
indicating to Rose that her stepmother wasn't
going to pay any heed to that advice.


504

H

'Well?' Willie demanded.

'Of course, Willie. Of course. Whatever you
say.'

He nodded his pleasure and got stuck back
into his plate of bacon and eggs.


*


'Did you speak to him?' Scan asked the moment
Shelagh was brought into the room.

'I did.'

'And?'

'He's agreed. Tomorrow morning, eight
o'clock on Glasgow Green. You're to bring
two others with you, no more, and he'll do
the same.'

'And no repercussions afterwards.'

'He agreed to that as well. Seemed to find it
all rather funny if you don't mind me saying.'
'Big Bill seems to find a lot of things funny.'
Well the bastard would be laughing on the
other side of his face come morning. He was
determined about that.

'Can I go now?'

'Aye, beat it.'

There was no word of thanks, nor did Shelagh
expect any. She scurried from the room and out
of the house. In the street she heaved a huge
sigh of relief, thankful beyond belief that was
all over.

'So it's on,' Jim Gallagher said softly to Scan
when Shelagh was gone.

'Aye.'

'Who do you want to go along with you?'


505


Scan glanced round the assembled group.
'You and Noddy. That all right?'

'Fine by me Noddy replied.

'And me said his brother.

Scan picked up the sword that was lying by
his chair and placed it on his lap. There the
light caught it causing it to gleam and flash.

He took out a clean handkerchief and began
polishing it, though it hardly needed that.
'Tomorrow, the morn's morn,' Scan whispered,
and smiled.


*


Andrew threw down his newspaper and stared
into the roaring fire. Saturday night and here
he was home alone again. Just like the previous
Saturday and Saturday before that.	

Truth was, he was bored witless and had been
for ages. Day in, day out it was the same old
routine. Get up, go to work, come home again
and that was that with the exception of a Friday
night with Jack.

He should get away for a few days, he
thought. If only he had a business trip coming
up, that would break the monotony, but he
didn't have one planned for several months
yet.

Call on Charlotte and John? That was a
possibility. Then he remembered John wrote
his sermon on a Saturday night so that ruled
that out.

He tried to think of something to do, and
failed to come up with anything.


506

Jack and Charlotte were right about his getting
married. At least then he'd have someone to
come home to and share things with. And it
was high time he provided himself with an heir.
That was another thing.

Which brought him to thinking about Rose.
It really was a bit soon to return to The Haven.
He'd meant to leave it a while yet.

There again, a weekend away would do him
the world of good. And he'd have Willie for
company which would be enjoyable.

'Damn it,' he muttered. He would go the
following weekend, if Willie agreed that was.

He needed some distraction.


*


Scan emerged from 'the place' to find Noddy
and Jim had arrived while he'd been inside. He
was carrying the Samurai sword wrapped in a
length of old canvas.

'Christ, it's freezing,' Noddy complained,
slapping his hands together.

'Aye, well you won't be when we get there.
It's a good walk,' Scan retorted. He was feeling
buoyant in the extreme. Almost euphoric.


*


'They're already there,' Noddy observed when
they got to Glasgow Green, a large expanse of
parkland situated on the north bank of the river
Clyde.
Three of them as agreed, Scan noted. That


507


was fine then. 'Must be keen,' he muttered
sarcastically.

Jim shivered, a tremor that had nothing to do
with the cold. He didn't like this one little bit,
though he hadn't said so to Scan. His brother
Noddy shared his foreboding.

They marched over the grass until they came
to the Long, Big Bill flanked on either side by
his companions.

*You're late,' Big Bill said. 'We were beginning
to think you'd had second thoughts, Flynn.'

'Not me. And we're not late. You're early.'

'Is that a fact.'

'That's a fact . . . Bremner.'

Big Bill eyed the canvas length Scan was
carrying. 'What's that?'

'Something to wipe that stupid smile off your
face. Or should I say smirk.'

'Let's get on with it,' Big Bill snarled. 'You
talk more than a bloody lassie.'

Big Bill removed his jacket, extracted a razor
from an inside pocket, then handed the jacket
to the man on his right. He flicked the razor
open.

'Let's see if you can fight as well as you can
rabbit.'

Scan gave Jim the canvas length to hold while
he too took off his jacket which went to Noddy.
Accepting the canvas length back again he slowly
unrolled it.

'Holy shite!' one of Bill's seconds exclaimed
when the sword was revealed.

Big Bill's eyes had narrowed. 'What's your
game, Flynn?'


508

'This is my weapon.'

'But it's a fucking sword.'

Now it was Scan's turn to smile. 'Full marks
for being observant. A sword it is. Or to be
more specific, a Samurai sword. The sword of
an ancient Japanese warrior.'

Scan hefted the blade. 'Ready when you are,
Bremner.'

'I'm not fighting against that.'

Scan chuckled. 'Scared are we? Where's the
fearless Big Bill Bremner I've heard so much
about? The man who'd go up against anyone
or anything.'

He hefted the sword again. 'Well run along
then . . . ' He paused, then added, 'Poofter.
Shirt lifter. Bender. Queer.'

Big Bill's face went puce. 'You cunt!'

'Let it go, Bill,' one of the other Long
pleaded. 'No one will blame you or think less
of you if you walk away.'

'Maybe not to his face but they sure as hell
will behind his back. He'll be a laughing stock,'
Scan mocked.

That was too much for Big Bill who launched
himself at Scan, his razor whirling in an arc.

Scan danced to one side and the razor
whistled harmlessly past. He was enjoying this,
his intention being to thoroughly humiliate Bill.
And hurt him before he was finished.

Big Bill was incredibly fast. A swift change
of direction and he was again coming at Scan,
razor upraised, ready to strike.

Noddy and Jim watched anxiously, both
praying this wasn't going to get out of hand


509


and that Scan knew what he was doing.

Scan dodged a second blow, then whacked
Big Bill across the seat of his trousers using
the flat of his blade. 'You should never have
laughed over Mo's death, that was a mistake
he spat.

Big Bill halted to catch his breath and try
to think of what to do next. Like a suddenly
released spring he galvanised into action.

This time the razor was so close it actually
nicked Scan's ear. Scan's reply was a swipe at
Big Bill's belly.

The cutting edge made contact, slicing open
the front of Big Bill's shirt. Big Bill himself was
unharmed.

Big Bill moved forward, then hastily retreated
again as the sword carved through the air.
Before Scan could reverse his swing Big Bill
was on him.

Fear leapt in Scan as, with a roar of triumph,
Big Bill went for his throat.

Sean managed to grab Big Bill's wrist, warding
off the blow. Using his free hand Big Bill
punched Sean again and again.

Sean pushed Big Bill away and thrust with
his sword, only instead of cutting Big Bill as he
intended, he misjudged the whole thing and the
blade of the sword sank deep into Bill's chest.

'Oh my God,' Noddy breathed.

Big Bill looked down at the blade impaling
him, his vision already starting to blur. 'You
done me,' he croaked.

Sean pulled the sword free, blood gushing
and spurting from the wound. Within the space


510

of several seconds Big Bill's front was stained
completely red.

It was a miracle Big Bill remained upright as
long as he did. He swayed on the spot for several seconds, then tumbled to the ground where he

1 lay still.

The others, including Sean, stood watching in
horror. Realising he was still holding the sword
Sean dropped it.

One of the Long hurried to Big Bill and
knelt beside him, quickly establishing that he
had stopped breathing.

He looked up at Sean with undisguised hatred
in his eyes. 'You've killed him.'

Sean took an involuntary step backwards, his
eyes riveted on Big Bill's body. He found he was
having trouble breathing. He simply couldn't
believe this.

There was the blast of a whistle in the
distance. Noddy whipped round to gaze in
the direction it had come from. What he saw
. were two policemen racing towards them.

'Come on,' he said urgently, grabbing Sean
by the arm. 'We've got to get the fuck out
of here.'

'What?' A dazed Sean frowned.

'The polis. We've got to get the fuck out
of here!'

Noddy, Jim and Sean began running in one
direction away from the police, the remaining
Tongs in another.


*


511


Noddy slammed the front door of 'the place'
behind them and they staggered through to the
sitting room where Sean collapsed into a chair.

'Jesus Christ,' said Jim, running a trembling
hand through his hair. This was disastrous.

'They'll never work out it was me,' Sean
declared hopefully.

'Of course they fucking well will. The entire Long must know Big Bill was fighting you this
morning. With Big Bill dead one of them's
bound to squeal to the police for revenge.'

'There weren't to be any repercussions. It was
agreed.'

'That was before you killed him. That alters
matters.'

'It would be their word against mine.'

'You left the sword behind, Sean. Your
fingerprints will be all over it. That'll be enough
to . . . ' He trailed off and swallowed hard. He'd
been about to say 'hang you'.

This was a nightmare, Sean thought dully.
How had it all gone so terribly wrong?

'I think you should get out of Glasgow, Sean,'
Jim Gallagher advised.

'Out of Glasgow?'

'That would be best. If the police do get your
name, and I believe they will, they'll be searching
for you everywhere. Murder is murder after all.
Not to mention you're a gang member and they
all loathe the gangs.'

That was true enough, Sean thought.

'Hold on,' said Noddy, and broke away.

'I could use a drink,' Sean muttered.

Jim glanced about, spying an unopened bottle


512

of beer from the night before. He fetched that
and handed it to Sean. 'There's nothing stronger
in. I finished the last of the whisky myself.'

Sean undid the screwtop and had a long
swallow. Closing his eyes he conjured up a
picture of Big Bill's body, its front bright red
with blood. He shuddered at the memory.

'There's not much left in the kitty,' Noddy
announced. 'On account we had the diwy up
Friday. But there's enough to keep you for a
while.'

Noddy laid the money on the table, then took
out his wallet and counted the contents. 'I can add four quid to it. Jim?'

'I've got a fiver on me. Sean can have that
as well.'

'Thanks, lads,' Sean mumbled, and had
another mouthful of beer.

'So what are you going to do?' Noddy
queried.

'As Jim suggests and get out of Glasgow. I
don't like it but it makes sense. I'll go home
first . . . '

'No no,' Noddy interjected. 'You don't want
to involve your folks in this. And what are you
going to say to them anyway? That you're off
on a wee holiday. They'd hardly believe that.'

'But I'll need clothes.'

'Buy some more when you get the time. You
won't need much. But I'd keep away from your
house if I was you. If for no other reason than
should the police discover you've taken clothes
then they would realise you'd scarpered the city.
Leave things as they are and they'll spend more


513


time searching for you here.'

Sean nodded. That too made sense.

'Better still,' Jim said. 'You and I are roughly
the same height and weight. I'll go home and
get some of my clobber for you. How's that?'

'Good idea,' Noddy enthused.

'I won't be long,' Jim declared, and hurriedly
left the room.

Noddy sat facing Sean whose face was white
and drawn. 'What a cock up, eh?'

'I never meant to kill him, Noddy.'

'I know that.'

'Mark him, yes. Do him damage, yes. But
not kill him.'

'I believe you, but the police won't see it that
way. All they'll know, and the jury, is that a
man's dead and you did it.'

Sean had another long swallow, thinking his
world had just collapsed around him. He knew
this was a day that would haunt him for the rest
of his life.


*


Sean stared out the carriage window as Glasgow
vanished into the distance. How long before he
saw it again? That was anyone's guess. Like the
true son of the city that he was he'd miss it
terribly.


*


'Rose, we have to speak.'
Andrew had managed to corner her at last in


514

the library. On entering the room he'd closed
the door firmly behind him.

'We have nothing to talk about.'

'Oh yes, we have. This can't go on, Rose. If
I've offended you I apologise.'

'Offended me!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, you've
certainly done that. You . . . rotter.'

'And why am I a rotter? You have the
advantage of me.'

She gazed balefully at him, wanting to slap
his face, tear at him with her nails. 'How could
you, Andrew Drummond? How could you!'

'How could I what?' he asked patiently. At
last it seemed he was about to get to the bottom
of Rose's hostility.

Rose turned away from him and crossed to
the window. Should she tell him what she knew,
or not?

'Rose? I'm waiting.'

'You've been sleeping with my stepmother.'
There, it was said.

Andrew went cold all over. 'Why do you
say that?'

'Because it's a fact. I heard the pair of you
together. It was disgusting.'

'Heard us?'

'I had to go to the bathroom one night and
passed Georgina's door. It was the time that Pa
was away. There was no mistaking what I heard.
The pair of you . . . ' She trailed off.

'I take it you haven't spoken about this to
Willie.'

She whirled on him, eyes blazing. 'Of course
I haven't. Nor will I ever.'


515


Relief welled through Andrew. Thank God
for that.

'The worst thing for me was making such a
fool of myself over you. And all the while you
were . . . consorting with Georgina.'

'It's over between us. Rose. I swear.'

'Huh!'

'It is. Rose. You have my sacred word on
that.' He had a sudden thought. 'Is Georgina
aware you know?'

'No. I've kept it strictly to myself until
how.'

Andrew nodded, again relieved. 'I'm sorry you
found out, Rose. I truly am.'

She glared at him.

'And you didn't make a fool of yourself. I
assure you.'

'Why, Andrew? Why?'

He shrugged. 'It was madness of course, sheer
folly, on both our parts. I suppose I can only
say the flesh was weak. That's not an excuse,
merely an explanation.'

'But she's your friend's wife.'

'You're right. I think rotter probably sums me
up rather well. I wouldn't hurt Willie for the
world . . . '

'And yet you did that to him,' she interjected
hotly.

'Yes,' he admitted, shamefaced. 'I did.
Though give me some credit for ending
the relationship. The guilt just became too
much.'

'Have you any idea the effect it would have
on Pa if he ever found out?'

516

'I do,' Andrew replied softly. 'That was why
it had to finish.'

'It should never have started in the first place,'
she retorted fiercely.

'No, it shouldn't. But life isn't black and
white, Rose. It consists of many shades of grey
as you'll find out. And we're all only human
after all. There are very few saints about in my
experience.'

'But to betray a friendship in such a way is
despicable.'

'Indeed it is. I totally agree. If I could undo
what happened, please believe me, I would. Not
only madness but insanity.'

Rose snorted. 'You're pathetic, Andrew.'

'Maybe.'

'Do you love her?'

He smiled. 'That emotion never came into it,
Rose. At least not on my part. It was purely
physical.'

Rose blushed, marvelling that she was still
attracted to him. If only this had never
happened.

'I hope in time you'll come to forgive me,
Rose.'

She didn't reply.

A heavy-hearted Andrew withdrew, leaving her
alone with her thoughts.


517



29


'Bridie, I know you've been avoiding me,' lan
stated, glancing round to make sure they weren't
being seen or overheard.

'That's not true,' she lied. 'Honestly, I've
been terribly busy.' Only a few more days to
go, she thought, and then she'd be gone. Part
of her couldn't wait for her departure, another
part was dreading it in the extreme.

'How about tomorrow night? We'll meet up
in the stables as usual.'

She'd go, she decided. A final rendezvous, a
last remembrance.

'Can you manage that?'

'Yes.'

lan uttered a huge sigh of relief.

'Although it really is silly, lan. We've no future
together.'

Til think of something,' he replied desperately.
'There must be a way. There just has to
be.'

'Not without you losing The Haven.'

He groaned, wanting to sweep her into his
arms, cover her with kisses. Be one with her.

'The usual time,' he said. 'All right?'

'Give or take ten or fifteen minutes. I'm not
the free agent you are.'

He smiled. 'I appreciate that.'

lan couldn't resist it. Reaching up he touched
her cheek. 'Till then, Bridie.'


518

He swiftly snatched his hand away when
Andrew Drummond suddenly appeared. Drat
the man.

'Right then, you understand,' he said to
Bridie, now brisk and businesslike.

'Yes, Mr Seaton.'

'That's fine then.'

lan turned and walked away in the opposite
direction to Andrew.

Bridie gave Andrew a small curtsey before
hurrying by.


*


Scan came up short when The Haven came into
view and his mouth dropped open. By all that
was Holy! He'd known it was a big house, but
not that bigl It was vast.

He stood for a few moments admiring it, a
wry smile dancing on his lips. He couldn't help
but compare it with their home in Glasgow.
Compare! There wasn't any comparison. Nor
with the dirty streets he normally inhabited
compared to these lush and rolling surroundings.

He didn't really know why he'd come here,
never having been particularly close to Bridie.
Yet she was family, and that was what he needed
now. Perhaps he could get a job at The Haven.
It was at least worth a try. And who would think
to look for him there?

He thought of the article in the previous day's
paper saying that the police were wishing to
interview Scan Flynn in connection with the
death of William Archibald Bremner. He'd


519


laughed at the Archibald bit, but the article
itself wasn't funny.

As Jim had predicted someone had given
the police his name, and now all they had
to do, should they apprehend him, was match
his fingerprints with those on the sword.

Well, he was a long way from being
apprehended yet. And that's how he intended
it would stay.

The future would take care of itself. For the
moment only the present mattered.


*


'Come in!' Willie called out when there was a
rap on his study door. He didn't normally work
on a Saturday but these accounts were pressing
and required dealing with.

Mrs Coltart entered. 'Sorry to disturb you, sir,
but there's a young man come to the kitchen
door inquiring if there's any work available. He
mentioned you by name.'

'Did he indeed,' Willie replied. 'Do I know
him?'

'I doubt it, sir. He's from Glasgow. Somewhat
rough spoken but pleasant enough.'

Willie frowned. Normally Jock Gibson would
have dealt with this but Jock was off ill, bad
with arthritis.

'Well, you'd better show him in,' Willie
declared, not appreciating this interruption. He
was anxious to get finished and join up with
Andrew for a couple of drams and whatever.

The young chap Mrs Coltart ushered in


520

minutes later had black hair and black eyes.
Willie judged him to be in his early twenties.

'Mr McDougall,' Mrs Coltart announced, and
left them.

'Thank you for seeing me, sir. I appreciate it,'
Scan said affably. He'd decided to use a false
name as he could hardly use his own. He'd
chosen a Protestant one thinking that would
give him more chance of a job.

There was a spare seat in the study but Willie
didn't indicate that Scan should sit. 'So how can
I help you, Mr McDougall?'

Tm after a job, sir, and am hoping you might
be able to give me a start.'

Willie grunted. 'You're a Glaswegian aren't
you?'

'That's right, sir.'

'So what are you doing out here so far away
from home?'

Scan had his story prepared. 'I got laid off
from the iron foundry where I'd been since a
lad. I tried and tried but there's just nothing
doing in Glasgow at present. It's chronic so it
is. I did consider going to Edinburgh or one
of the other big cities but from what I hear
unemployment's as bad there.

'Then I had the idea of trying my luck in
the country where I thought things might be
different. And so here I am.'

Willie was curious. 'Why this area?'

'No reason, sir. I got on a train and then
got off again when it took my fancy. And that
happened to be here.'

Willie laughed softly. What a bizarre way


521


of going about things. 'How did you get my
name?'

Tm staying at a pub called The Clachan,
sir, which I'm sure you know. I was speaking
to the landlord last night, chaffing like, and he
said you're one of the biggest employers around
and I should come and see you.'

There was something shifty about McDougall,
Willie decided. He couldn't quite put his finger
on Ht, but definitely something shifty. There
again, it might simply be because McDougall
was a townie.

'Well I'm sorry, Mr McDougall, but I have
absolutely nothing going at all. Nor do I foresee
anything coming up in the near future.'

'I understand, sir.'

'Besides, agricultural work is hardly what
you're used to.'

'I learn quickly, sir. I can graft and labour
with the best of them. I'm sure it wouldn't take
me long to learn the ropes.'

Willie believed that. Though why he couldn't
say. But he'd decided against this McDougall
and that was that. 'I'm sorry,' he repeated.

Scan touched his forelock. 'Thank you for
your time anyway, sir. I can see you're busy.'

'Goodbye then, Mr McDougall.'

'Goodbye, Mr Seaton.'	..

Scan found Mrs Coltart waiting for him out in
the corridor. She personally escorted him to the
kitchen door where he'd entered the house.


*


522

When he was a fair distance away from The
Haven Sean stopped and stared back at it. Well
he hadn't got the job, but no matter. A place
like that must be crammed full of valuables,
a number of which he intended would soon
be his.

He smiled. Bridie hadn't seen him which
meant she wouldn't be implicated in the
burglary he now intended. No one would
make the connection between McDougall and
Bridie Flynn. Why should they? Apart from
the fact they were both Glaswegian there was
nothing whatsoever to link them.

He'd never done a burglary before, but it
shouldn't be too difficult. The idea had come to
him as he'd been escorted out by Mrs Coltart.

It should be a nice little haul to keep him
going for a time. With a bit of luck he might
also be able to find some cash, certain that
a man in Seaton's position must have some
stashed somewhere.

Humming jauntily he continued on his way.


*


Sean lay on his bed, having bid goodnight to
the landlord of the pub and others half an hour
previously. Shortly he would open his window
and shimmy down the drainpipe situated a little
to the right of the window. That was how he'd
go and that's how he'd return.

In the morning he'd pay his bill and be off
with no one the wiser about what he'd been
up to.


523


*


Thankfully it was a moonlit night, Sean
reflected, as he padded across the terrace at
the rear of the house. In his hand he was
holding a screwdriver he'd acquired earlier.

The house itself was in total darkness, hardly
surprising considering the hour. So far everything
was going hunky dory. All he had to do now was
get inside.

A pair of french windows presented themselves.
These shouldn't be too difficult, he
thought, and set to with the screwdriver. Even
though this was the first time he'd attempted
such a thing he had the doors open in under
a minute.

Like taking sweeties from a baby, he smiled
to himself.


*


lan drifted out of sleep, the memory of his
dream about Bridie still clear in his mind. Such
a lovely dream it had been too. The pair of them
married, happy as could be.	1

He sighed as he came fully awake, knowing
this was going to be another night of tossing
and turning unless he did something about it.
Something that was becoming all too regular an
occurrence.

He wondered what time it was. Two or three
in the morning no doubt, that was when he
usually woke.

He swore softly as he swung his legs out of bed


524

and reached for his dressing-gown. Standing, he
belted it round him. Then he slipped his feet
into soft leather slippers.

Sitting on the bed he yawned. God he was
tired, but there was no point in trying to drop
off again without a few drams inside him.

He'd be seeing Bridie that night in the stables,
he thought, which bucked him immeasurably.
A short while only, no doubt, but precious,
precious time alone together.

He would never have believed a person could
be so much in love -- aching, agonising love that
lifted you to Heaven one moment, then dumped
you into Hell the next.

'Bridie,' he whispered. What pleasure saying
that name gave him. But not nearly as much
pleasure as being in her company.

He came to his feet and headed for the
door.


*


lan stopped and frowned. Now why were the
lights in the drawing room on? How unlike Mrs
Coltart who meticulously did her rounds after
the family and staff had retired. He'd never
known her leave lights on before.

And then he heard a sound, a rustle of
movement. Someone was inside. But who?
Someone who, like himself, couldn't sleep?

He moved silently forward to investigate what
was going on.


*
525


Scan couldn't believe it. No money yet, but lots
of small knick knacks, all, to his eye anyway,
worth a great deal. He picked up a silver and
enamel cigarette box which would be easily
disposed of and dropped it into the sack he
was carrying, making a mental note not to
forget the study where he'd been interviewed.
If there was cash on the premises that's where
it would be. He just hoped it wasn't in a safe.
'What the hell do you think you're doing?'
For a brief moment the two men's eyes
locked, Scan frozen to the spot at having been
discovered.

'It's the police for you whoever you are,' lan
declared, and strode forward.

Scan remembered the french windows were
still open, dropped the sack, and hared towards
them.

'Oh no you don't!' lan exclaimed, and rushed
to head Sean off.

Scan cried out as he was taken in a rugby
tackle, the pair of them crashing to the floor.

'Bastard,' lan hissed as he grappled with the
smaller man.

Sean, thoroughly frightened now, knowing
that if the police got hold of him they'd find
out who he was, squirmed and punched at the
same time. He managed to land a solid smack
on lan's throat.

But lan was far stronger than Sean, and far
fitter, thanks to his work on the estate. Although
dazed and choking he pulled Sean to his feet and
hit him hard, Sean flying back across the room
to fall in front of the fireplace.


526

lan glared as he advanced on him. 'Bloody
thief!' he accused in a strangulated voice.

Sean jumped upright, wishing to hell he had
his razor on him. He'd soon make short shrift
of this bloke if he had. But in the confusion
and panic of fleeing Glasgow, it had somehow
got left behind.

As lan closed, Sean threw a lucky punch
which connected full on lan's chin. lan staggered
backwards, but didn't go down.

Sean tried to dash past but lan was able to
catch him by the jacket and next moment the
pair of them were back on the floor again rolling
round and round as they fought.

Sean gasped for air, he couldn't take much
more of this. His chest was on fire, his breathing
agony.

lan took hold of Sean's arm and tried to force
it into a half nelson, a manoeuvre Sean wriggled
free from. He aimed a kick at lan's crotch which
missed, though it caught lan heavily on the
thigh.

Again Sean attempted to make a dash for it
and again lan got hold of him and yanked him
to the floor.

As they flailed about Sean's hand came into
contact with something metal. A sideways flick
of his eyes told him it was a poker.

There was a sickening thud as the brass
handle of the poker smacked into the back of
lan's head.

*


527


Bridie and Jeannie Swanson were chatting
between themselves, en route to the kitchen
for the customary cup of tea before starting
work, when a terrible scream rang out from
downstairs.

They both halted in their tracks. 'Holy
Mary Mother of God, what was that!' Bridie
whispered.

They looked at one another, then, simultanedusly,
set off at a run.


*


They reached the drawing room at the same time
as Mrs Coltart. An hysterical Meg Somerville,
another of the maids, was hanging on to the
door post.

'What is it, lass?' Mrs Coltart demanded,
grasping Meg by the shoulder.

Meg was wild eyed, her face the colour of
putty. 'It's . . . it's . . . ' She broke off and
gulped.

'It's what, Meg?' Mrs Coltart prompted, in a
kinder, more sympathetic tone.

'It's Master lan. He's been murdered.'
That one word was like a red-hot steel spike
plunged into Bridie's brain.

Mrs Coltart left Meg and hurried into the
drawing room.

Bridie forced herself to follow. It couldn't be
true. There was some sort of mistake.

Mrs Coltart was kneeling beside lan's body.
Around his head was a great deal of congealed
blood.


528

Bridie knew from just looking at lan that he
was dead. Uttering a low, stricken moan she
slumped to the floor.


*


Willie, sitting on a sofa with Georgina alongside,
was a man demented. He kept clasping and
unclasping his hands, unable to take his gaze
away from the bloody stain by the fireplace,
lan's body had been removed a few minutes
previously.

Andrew and Rose were also present, they too
sitting side by side. Rose was in an obvious state
of shock.

Detective Inspector Ralston and Sergeant
Murray returned to the room having accompanied
the body out to the waiting ambulance. The
Sergeant produced a notebook and pencil.

Ralston went over to stand in front of Willie
who continued to stare at the blood stain.

'I'm sorry to have to do this, sir, but I must
ask some questions,' he said quietly.

Willie didn't reply.

Ralston glanced at Andrew. 'Perhaps a drink?'

Andrew rose. 'I'll get him one.'

'Sir, can you hear me?'

Willie slowly nodded.

'Good. Now as I say, I'm sorry I have to do
this. But the questions have to be asked.'

'Can't you just leave us alone,' Georgina
snapped. 'Can't you see the state he's in. The
state we're all in.'

'That's all right, Georgina,' Willie whispered.


529


'The chap's only doing his job.'

'Thank you, sir.' Ralston took a deep breath.
'Now, first of all, did your son have any
enemies?'

Willie, still staring at the blood stain, frowned.
'Not that I'm aware of. He was well liked by
everyone.'

'I see. According to your housekeeper Mrs
Coltart a number of items are missing which
could mean your son disturbed a burglar and
that his death was the outcome.'

'Here you are, Willie, get that down you,'
Andrew said, handing Willie a large glass of
scotch.

'Georgina?'

She shook her head.

'Rose?'

'No thank you. I'd be sick if I drank alcohol.'

Andrew returned to the decanter to pour
himself a stiff one. He too was in a state of
shock, though not nearly as badly affected as
the others. Poor Willie, he kept thinking. Poor
old chap. What a blow.

'There haven't been any burglaries in the
area for quite a while, sir, and we caught that
blighter, a gypsy who was passing through. Have
there been any strangers around here of late?'

'No,' Willie croaked, and had a gulp of
whisky. In his mind he kept envisaging lan's
body and the horror of his first sight of it.

'Are you certain, sir?'

'Quite.' Willie hesitated, frowned, then glanced
up at the Detective Inspector. 'That's not
true. There was a man here yesterday looking


530

for work. Name of McDougall. There was
something about him I didn't like, a sort of
shiftiness, so I told him there was nothing
available and sent him on his way.'

'McDougall, eh?'

'From Glasgow,' Willie added. He then
repeated the story Scan had given him about
being laid off and having come to the country
to find work.

'Glasgow,' Ralston mused. That was interesting.
'I don't suppose he mentioned where he's
staying?' Ralston asked, thinking the man was
probably sleeping rough.

'As a matter of fact he did. The Clachan pub.
He's staying there.'

'Is he indeed,' Ralston smiled. 'Can I use your
telephone again, sir?'

'Help yourself.'

Willie went back to staring at the blood
stain.


*


Sean was about to go down and pay his bill, then
leave, when the door to his bedroom opened and
two men strode in.

Rozzers, they had it stamped all over them.

His shoulders slumped. The game was up.


*


'Bridie, can I come in?'
A tear-stained Bridie let Mrs Coltart into her

room.


531


'Are you all right?'

All right? She'd never be all right again. 'I'm
sorry, Mrs Coltart, truly I am.'

Fresh tears appeared, to go coursing down
her face.

Mrs Coltart was puzzled. They were all upset,
dreadfully so, but why was Bridie taking it so
badly? It was clear how distraught the girl was.

'Why don't you take the rest of the day off,
Bridie.'

'Thank you, Mrs Coltart.'

Mrs Coltart took Bridie by the arm and
guided her to the rumpled bed where they both
sat. 'Is there anything you want to tell me?'

'No, Mrs Coltart,' Bridie choked.

'It won't go any further. I promise you.
Sometimes it's better to talk.'

And talk Bridie desperately wanted to do.
'Oh, Mrs Coltart,' she whispered, gazing at
the housekeeper through eyes filled with pain.
'I loved him you see. And he me.'

That jolted Mrs Coltart who'd never guessed.
Not even had an inkling.

Bridie poured out her heart.


*


Willie lifted the phone which he'd been called to
answer. 'Yes Detective Inspector?' He reentered
the drawing room where the others were still
gathered after taking a call from the Inspector.
He went straight to the decanter.

'Well, darling?' Georgina queried.

He poured himself a drink then turned to face


532

them. There was a lump in his throat which felt
the size of an egg.

'They apprehended McDougall at the pub just
as he was about to leave and catch a train. The
Detective Inspector said we were fortunate it's a
Sunday with a diminished service otherwise he
would have already been away.'

Willie paused, then went on, 'They found a
number of items in McDougall's luggage, one a
silver and enamelled cigarette box which tallies
with the description of the one Mary gave me
years ago. I've been asked to go to the station
and identify McDougall and the items.'

Andrew immediately rose. Til drive you.'

Willie nodded his appreciation, then downed
his whisky in a single gulp.

'I can't help it,' he said. 'I simply can't.' And
with that he began to cry.

Georgina was swiftly by his side to enfold him
in her arms.
'lan, oh lan,' Willie sobbed.


*


Andrew came across Rose halfway down the
stairs sitting on a large windowsill gazing out.

'Hello,' he said.

She glanced at him, her expression grim as
could be. It was now Monday morning. Nobody
except Andrew had appeared for breakfast.

'Have you seen Pa?' she asked.

Andrew shook his head.

'He must still be in his room then.'

'I suppose so.'


533


She returned to gazing out the window. 'I
wish I'd been nicer to lan,' she said wistfully.

'Nicer?'

'We were always jibing at one another. But
there were times when I was downright cruel to
him. How I regret that now.'

'You were brother and sister, that sort of thing
is common between siblings. We were forever at
each other's throats. But it didn't really mean
anything. And it certainly didn't reflect how we
felt about one another. I admit I really never
got on with my brother Peter, but that was a
clash of personalities more than anything else.
We were so very different you see.'

Rose didn't reply to that.

'Quite normal. Honestly, you've nothing to
reproach yourself about.'

'I still wish it had been different. And now
he's gone it's left such a big hole in all our
lives. I don't think Pa will ever get over what's
happened.'

'Maybe not get over, Rose, but he will come to
terms with it. Time is a great healer after all.'

She smiled. 'You're very sweet, Andrew. And
it's kind of you to offer to stay on for a bit
and help.'

'It was the least I could do. Willie needs a
friend right now and that's what we are. He'd
do the same for me.'

Td like to think he would.'

'I know he would.'

Andrew reached out and touched Rose gently
on the face. In a strange way lan's death
had brought things totally into perspective.


534

Where there had been doubt before none now
remained. It was as though ... a calmness had
descended on him.

'Perhaps this isn't the time or place, but
please, and I beg you, forgive me for Georgina.
I'm only a mortal man after all, with all the
weaknesses men have. Perhaps more weaknesses
than many. I desperately want your forgiveness,
truly I do. And hope things might go back to
how they were between us. I need your trust
again, a trust I give you my solemn oath I'll
never again betray.'

She gazed up at Andrew, in her heart of hearts
wanting to believe him.

He knew he'd said enough for the present.
Til leave you to your reflections, Rose.'

Andrew withdrew his hand and strode off
down the stairs, Rose staring at his retreating
back.

She continued to stare in that direction long
after he'd disappeared.


535



30


Willie sat staring vacantly ahead. He was
unshaven, his hair rumpled and, despite the
fact it was almost noon, still in his pyjamas and
dressing-gown. His mind was numb with grief.

Gdorgina let herself quietly into the bedroom
having been about household duties. She gazed
in concern at her husband -- her heart going
out to him.

'Willie?'

He blinked, then focused on her. 'I was just
thinking about the war,' he said.

'The war?'

'I remember wondering at the time what it
was like for those thousands and thousands of
families who received the dreaded telegram.
Now I know.'

'Oh Willie,' she whispered. Crossing the room,
she knelt beside him.

'The years it takes you to bring up a child.
To teach them this and that, go through all
the pains they experience while growing up, the
emotional expenditure. And then, right at the
beginning of manhood, with everything before
them, to have them taken from you. I .could
accept it more easily if it had been due to
illness. That, though unfair, you can somehow
understand. But to lose them due to an act of
sheer wanton violence ... 'He broke off and
swallowed hard.


536

'I know,' she said softly.

'At least in the war when your boy went off
you knew it could happen. But we had no
warning whatsoever. One day lan was alive,
the next dead. And for what? That's the galling
thing, for what? Nothing, when you come down
to it.'

'Would you like a cup of tea, Willie?'

He shook his head.

'Anything else?'

'No, Georgina.'

A wave of great tenderness swept over her.
She felt bad enough, but how must he feel?
The reflection of that was all too obvious in
his face.

'Why don't you go back to bed and sleep for
a while? You had hardly any last night.'

'I still wouldn't sleep. All I can think of is lan.
In my mind I keep going over conversations we
had, times spent together. He was a good lad,
Georgina, and I was extremely proud of him.'

He took a deep breath. 'How am I going to
face the funeral? It'll be a nightmare. A complete
nightmare that doesn't bear thinking about.'

'You'll get through it, Willie, you'll see. And
I'll be there to support you. And Andrew.
Don't forget we'll be amongst friends. They'll
all understand and be with you, my darling.'

There was silence between them for a few
seconds, then Willie said, 'We must play
'Onward Christian Soldiers'. That was lan's
favourite hymn. I remember him mentioning
it once.'

'Then we shall.'


537


' 'Onward Christian Soldiers,' ' Willie repeated,
and slowly shook his head.

'How's Rose?' he asked.

'I spoke to her a little while ago and she's
bearing up.'

'Good. That's good.'

'Now why don't I take you through to the
bathroom and shave you. I haven't done that
for years.'

He smiled in memory.

She took his hand and tugged him to his feet.
'Come on. And after the shave you shall have a
nice long bath. A proper soak, you'll enjoy that.'

'Yes,' he whispered. Halfway to the bathroom
he stopped. 'I keep thinking it's all a bad dream
and that any moment I'll wake up and find lan's
still alive. Only it isn't a dream, is it?'

'No,' she said.


*


The instant Bridie thought of it a sense of
tranquillity descended on her, driving out the
demons that had been tearing at her since
hearing that awful word, murdered, and finding
it to be true.

She sighed. Yes, that was what she would do.
Had to do.


*


She slipped out of the house in the dead of
night. Underneath her coat she was wearing
only a nightdress.


538

She shivered. It was cold, but not as cold as
it had been earlier at the funeral. What a turn
out it had been, the church packed, with many
people having to stand.

Mrs Coltart had insisted she sit beside her,
the only person other than Mr Seaton to know
her secret. He hadn't spoken to her since lan's
death. Perhaps he'd temporarily forgotten how
it had been between them. Was between them,
she corrected herself.

She glanced up at the sky which was heavily
overcast. It might snow she thought. The night
had that feel about it.

A little way from The Haven she turned and
looked back. Her stay there had been a happy
one, she reflected. She had no regrets.

She walked to the cemetery and through it to
lan's grave adorned with the many wreaths and
flowers that had been placed on it.

She removed some of the flowers to make
a space for herself. Then, taking off her coat
which she placed aside, she lay down on the
freshly dug earth.

'Oh, lan, my darling, my true love,' she
whispered. 'We couldn't be together in this life
but we can in the next. It's all been solved, you
see. Now we shall be as one for evermore.'

She'd been right about the snow. Large flakes
of it suddenly appearing to come spiralling
down. Soon the flakes had increased in intensity
until there were myriads of them dancing and
weaving their way from Heaven.

Bridie closed her eyes and conjured up a
picture of lan in her mind. Sir lan of Seaton,


539


her knight in shining armour, her prince, her
lover for all time.

She began to feel drowsy as the cold seeped
into her. Not the unpleasant experience she'd
imagined, quite comforting really.

'lan,' she murmured.

And then he was there beside her, smiling,
holding out his hand for her.


*


'Awful,' Andrew said quietly. 'Just awful.' He'd
found Rose on her own. The pair of them were
now alone together.

'She loved lan apparently. None of us knew
that.'

Andrew shook his head. 'It makes you think,
doesn't it?'

'Yes it does.'

They were silent for a few moments, Andrew
thinking how lovely Rose looked. He could just
imagine her at Drummond, the lady of the
house.

'Do you mind if I sit down?'

She gestured to a chair. 'Please do.'

'Life's a funny thing,' he mused once he
was seated. 'As my father Murdo used to say,
you never know the minute till the minute
after.'

'True enough,' Rose agreed.

'Father forgive them for they know not what
they do.'

Rose blinked at him. 'I beg your pardon?'

'I was quoting scripture. Or as best as I can


540

remember that is. Whatever, the sentiment is
right.'

'I don't understand.'

'I was talking about me and how stupid I've
been.' He took a deep breath. 'Have I lost you,
Rose?'

She glanced away and didn't reply.

'Forgiveness is a great thing, Rose. Do you
have that quality in you?'
Again she said nothing.

'I swore to you that I'd never betray you again
and I won't. You have my word on that.'

'Do I?' she queried softly.

'Yes.'

She turned and stared into his eyes, looking
for the truth. This was far too big a decision
to make a mistake. In his eyes she saw the real
Andrew, that of a child. But there again, weren't
most men precisely that?

'What are you asking?' she demanded.

'Let's give it a bit of time, to get over
all this for a start. And then maybe ... if
you'll have me . . . ' He broke off in sudden
confusion and embarrassment. The latter most
unlike him.

'I love you,' he whispered. 'God knows I've
fought against it because of our ages. But
I do.'

His eyes were pleading, desperate almost as
she continued to gaze into them. She melted
inside, her feelings rushing to the surface.
'We do need that time you spoke about, most certainly.' Then, huskily, 'I love you
too.'


541



And so it was sealed. There was an
understanding between them.


*


'Dear me,' Jack Riach declared. 'She froze to
death.'

'Covered from head to toe in snow when they
found her.'

It was the first Friday night since Andrew's
return from The Haven and, as usual, he and
Jack were in the pub.

Jack knew this was the ending he'd been
searching for for his novel. He'd have to rejig
it a bit of course but apart from that it was
perfect.

'It only came out afterwards that she and lan
had been in love,' Andrew went on. 'A truly
tragic affair.'

'Indeed.'

'A pleasant lass too.'

Jack groped for his pint and had a sip. There
was part of him felt ghoulish, grasping, as
Andrew had called it, a tragic affair, but it
suited his purposes and he hadn't known either
of them. And, after all, hadn't it been worse
with his plays about the war? He had been
friends, fought and almost died, with many of
those people.

'There's something else.'

'Oh?'

'I've decided to marry Rose. We have an
understanding. But it'll take time, Jack. It'll
take time.'


542

Jack's scarred face creased with delight. 'That's
wonderful.'

'If it does come off I hope you'll be my best

man.'

'I'd be honoured, old boy. Honoured.'

'In the meantime keep this strictly to yourself


and Hettie.'
Jack tapped his nose. 'Mum's the word. You

can count on it.'

Andrew leant back in his chair and sighed,
visualising Rose in his mind and wishing she
was there. Wanting her company.

Wanting it with every ounce of his being.


*


Andrew picked up his pen and stared at the
sheet of paper in front of him. 'Dear Willie,'
he began.

He went on to say he hoped Willie was starting
to come to terms with lan's death and then
suggested he might visit again shortly, if that
was agreeable.

Andrew smiled to himself. Of course he
continued being concerned for his friend but
there was quite another reason for the proposed

visit.

The letter was the first of many and the start
of his courtship of Miss Rose Seaton.


543



Epilogue


Andrew and Rose emerged from the gloom of
the church into brilliant sunshine which made
them both blink. Overhead the bells began
to peal.

Willie, directly behind the couple, couldn't
help but glance across the graveyard to where
lan was buried, and close by Bridie Flynn. He
had mixed emotions about Bridie, whose brother
it had been who'd murdered lan. Not only lan
but another chap in Glasgow which made him a
double murderer. Murders for which Scan Flynn
had now paid the ultimate price. He wouldn't be
killing anyone else.

At least the girl hadn't known it was her
brother who'd killed lan, that was something
she'd thankfully been spared.

Georgina moved up beside Willie. 'It was a
beautiful ceremony,' she said. 'It couldn't have
gone better.'

Willie hadn't been too sure about the wedding
when Andrew had first brought it up, but Rose
had put his worries to rest and so he'd consented
to the marriage and given them his blessing.
Andrew as a son-in-law, he reflected not for
the first time. What a bizarre thought.

'Wasn't James good?' Georgina crooned, and
kissed the baby she was holding.

Willie beamed at his new son and heir. As
healthy and lusty a boy as you could imagine. He


544

was certain James was the spitting image of lan.
There again, it might only be his imagination.

He thought of how close he and Georgina had
become since lan's death.

As for Georgina, she had no regrets about
Andrew. Her feelings for him had vanished. The
only man she wanted now was Willie, good in
bed or not.

His failings simply didn't matter to her any
more.

Jack Riach took Hettie by the hand. 'Don't
let me fall down the steps,' he whispered.

'I won't.'

'I'd look awfully silly sprawled on my backside.
They'd all think I was drunk.'

'Which you will be later,' she teased.

'Damn right. And you will be too I hope.'

'We'll see.' She smiled.

Jack sighed with pleasure. His novel had
been submitted to the publishers some months
previously and they were very excited about
it. They were certain it was going to be
both a critical and financial success. He'd
promised himself to start another before the
year was out.

Andrew turned to Rose and stared into her
eyes. 'Happy?'

'You have to ask?'

'No, Rose. I don't suppose I do. I know I
certainly am.'

A cheer and applause went up from the
onlookers as the bride and groom kissed.

Passionately.


545



Other titles in the
Charnwood Library Series:


LEGACIES
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The sequel to THE PROUD AND THE FREE.
It is twenty years since the feud within
his family began, but Lije Stuart, son of
the Cherokee chief The Blade, had never
forgotten the killing of his grandfather. Now,
a promising legal career beckons, and also
the love of his childhood sweetheart, Diane
Parmalee, the daughter of a US Army officer.
Yet as it reawakens, their love is beset by the
beginning of civil war.


L' IS FOR LAWLESS

Sue Grafton

World War II fighter pilot Johnny Lee had
died and his grandson was trying to claim
military funeral benefits, but none of the
authorities have any record of Fighter J. Lee.
Was the old man once a US spy? When PI
Kinsey Millhone is asked to straighten things
out, she finds herself pursued by a psychopath
bearing a forty-year-old grudge . . .


BLOOD LINES

Ruth Rendell

This is a collection of long and short stories
by Ruth Rendell that will linger in the
mind.

THE SUN IN GLORY
Harriet Hudson

When industrialist William Potts sets himself
to build a flying machine, his adopted
daughter, Rosie, works through the years
as his mechanic. In 1906 Pegasus is almost
ready, and onto the scene comes Jake Smith,
a man who has as deep a love of the air as
Rosie herself. But Jake sparks off a deadly
rivalry, and the triumph of flight twists into
tragedy.


A WOMAN SCORNED
M. R. O'Donnell

Five years after the tragedy that ruined her
fifteenth birthday, Judith Carty returns to
Castle Moore and resumes her flirtation with
its heir, Rick Bellingham. The tragic events
of the past forge a special bond between
the young couple, but there are those who
have a vested interest in the failure of the
romance.


PLAINER STILL
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Following the success of her previous
collection of essays and poems, LET ME
MAKE MYSELF PLAIN, Catherine Cookson
has compiled a further selection of thoughts,
recollections, and observations on life -- and
death -- together with another collection of
the poems she prefers to describe as 'prose
on short lines'.

THE LOST WORLD
Michael Crichton

The successor to JURASSIC PARK.
It is now six years since the secret disaster
of Jurassic Park, when that extraordinary
dream of science and imagination came to
a crashing end -- the dinosaurs destroyed,
and the park dismantled. There are rumours
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MORNING, NOON  NIGHT
Sidney Sheldon

When Harry Stanford, one of the wealthiest
men in the world, mysteriously drowns, it
sets off a chain of events that reverberates
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FACING THE MUSIC
Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean

The world's most successful and popular
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world stardom. Finally, they describe how
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ORANGES AND LEMONS
Jeanne Whitmee

When Shirley Rayner is evacuated from
London's East End, she finds herself billeted
with the theatre's most romantic couple,
Tony and Leonie Darrent. She becomes
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is racked by guilt. Can their love survive
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THE GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY

Michael Crichton

In Victorian London, where lavish wealth
and appalling poverty exist side by side, one
man navigates both worlds with ease. Rich,
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preys on the most prominent of the well
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THIS CHILD IS MINE Henry Denker

Lori Adams, a young, unmarried actress,
gives up her baby boy for adoption with
great reluctance. She feels that she and the
baby's father, Brett, are not in a position
to provide their child with all he deserves.
But when, two years later, life has improved
dramatically for Lori and Brett, they want
thsir child returned . . .


THE LOST DAUGHTERS

Jeanne Whitmee

At school, Cathy and Rosalind have one
thing in common: each is the child of a
single parent. For them both, the transition
to adulthood is far from easy -- until their
unexpected reunion. Working together, the
two friends take a bold step that will help
them to become independent women.


THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
Josephine Cox

When Sonny Fareham overhears a private
conversation between her lover and his wife,
she realises she is in great danger. Shocked
and afraid, she flees to the north of England
to make a new life -- but never far away
is the one person who wants to destroy
everything that she now holds dear.


A LETHAL INVOLVEMENT

Clive Egleton

When Captain Simon Oakham of the Royal
Army pay Corps goes A.W.O.L. immediately
after a suspicious interview with the security
service, Peter Ashton is asked to track him
down. The key to it all is an embittered
woman whose unsuspecting knowledge of
a lethal involvement makes her especially
vulnerable.


THE WAY WE WERE

Marie Joseph

This is a collection of some of Marie Joseph's
most outstanding short stories, and is the
companion volume to WHEN LOVE WAS
LIKE THAT. With compassion, insight and
humour, these stories explore the themes of
love -- its hopes, joys, disappointments and
reconciliations.


EXTREME DENIAL
David Morrell

When CIA agent Stephen Decker is sent
on a sensitive mission to Italy, his partner
is Brian McKittrick, the incompetent and
embittered son of the former chairman of
the National Security Council. Disobeying
orders throughout the mission, McKittrick
makes one final mistake: sleeping with the
enemy.

THE WOOD BEYOND

Reginald Hill

Seeing the wood for the trees is a problem
shared by Andy Dalziel and Edgar Wield,
the latter in his investigations into bones
found at a pharmaceutical research centre.,
and the former in his dangerous involvement
with animal rights activist Amanda Marvell.


*RAGE OF THE INNOCENT
Frederick E. Smith

The first of a trilogy.

Young Harry Miles clashes with Michael
Chadwick, son of a wealthy landowner,
and sows the seeds of a lifetime's conflict.
When the 1914-18 war breaks out, Harry
is driven into volunteering and finds himself
under Chadwick's command. Taking his
revenge, Chadwick makes Harry a machine
gunner . . .


MOTHER OF GOD
David Ambrose

Tessa Lambert has just created the first
viable artificial intelligence programme -- a
discovery so controversial that she must keep
it a secret even from her colleagues at Oxford
University. But soon there is to be a hacker
stalking her on the Internet: a serial killer
who is about to give her invention its
own terrifying and completely malevolent
life . . .

THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN

Michael Crichton

When Project Scoop sends satellites into
outerspace to 'collect organisms and dust
for study', one of them crashes into the
town of Piedmont, Arizona. Soon after, all
but two of the inhabitants are found dead
from a strange disease. The scientists must
trace what is causing the horrifying virus
before it spreads . . .


TO WAR WITH WHITAKER

Countess of Ranfurly

When World War II broke out, Dan Ranfurly
was dispatched to the Middle East with his
faithful valet, Whitaker. These are the diaries
of his young wife, Hermione, who, defying
the War Office, raced off in hot pursuit of
her husband. When Dan was taken prisoner,
Hermione vowed never to return home until
they were reunited.


IN PRESENCE OF MY FOES
Frederick E. Smith

Sequel to RAGE OF THE INNOCENT.
Harry Miles is now recovered from his war
wounds, but a mysterious and compelling
urge drives him back to the Front. He
faces the menace of Michael Chadwick,
his commanding officer and life-long rival,
and the fearsome German offensive of
March 1918.

YEARS OF THE FURY
Frederick E. Smith

The third volume of the trilogy which
began with RAGE OF THE INNOCENT
and continued with IN PRESENCE OF MY
FOES.

The First World War has ended and, with
Harry Miles back from France, he and Mary
are hoping to settle down to their married life
at last. But they have not taken account of
their two unrelenting enemies.


FAMILY TREES
Kate Alexander

Catherine Carew fills her life with good works
and is a pillar of the community. But in
her distant university days she was a very
different person. One night's indiscretion
leaves her with a burden of guilt and regret
that overshadows her later years -- until a
stranger appears on her doorstep . . .


INDIAN SUMMER

James Mitchell

Mixed blood courses through Veronica
Higgins' veins, resulting in an exotic beauty.
But to the expatriates in India at the height
of the British Raj she is just another 'bloody
chee-chee'. When her Aunt Poppy falls in
love with an English industrialist, the three
set off for his homeland. The arrival of
one of England's richest men with two
exquisitely beautiful women causes a flurry
of excitement . . .