Tales of the Unknown

Episode 6

Episode 6

'I don't think you're fast, not compared with the girls around here anyway. There's a dance at the Locarno on Saturday night, it's nothing fancy, but would you like to go?'

'With you?'

Yes, unless you intend going on your own?' Will Jasnah and Archie be going?'

'Who knows? Can't you go anywhere without Jasnah?" he mocked, gently. 'I don't know.' She liked him, he was easy to talk to and he was very handsome and after all she'd been through why shouldn't she have a little fun. She smiled. 'All right and thank you for inviting me.'

'We can go for a drink first, if you like, to get to know each other." 'I'd like that, but I don't drink - not anything alcoholic anyway.' He laughed. 'Have you signed the pledge?"

'No, I haven't. I just don't like it, that's all." 'Oh, I see you have got spirit. You're not everything you appear to be, Morla Macbeth!'

You hardly know me, so how do you know what I'm really like?'

'I don't, but I intend to find out!'

She smiled. She really did like him and when he held his hand out to help her down the steps at the bottom of the bridge's ramp, she took it without hesitation.

Mary-Kate sorted through the mail, placing the ones marked 'L.R.Vannin, Esq' on the hallstand, then she uttered a prayer of thanks as she recognized Morla's handwriting. The postmark was Gorbals, Glasgow. It was addressed to eighteen, Lancaster Street, but that had been crossed out and three, Walton Park written in untidy, sprawling letters above it. Thank God Maura had forwarded it. As she tucke the envelope into her pocket she thought what a strange, foreign-sounding name it was. Gorbals. She'd make sure Annie was clearing up after

breakfast, then she'd read it before going shopping. She'd not regretted her decision to take over as house keeper and she'd left her aunt and uncle under no illusions as to what would happen to them if they so much as missed one week's rent.

Lewis Vannin's house was bigger than she had imagined it to be and there was plenty of work, for she still helped with the office work in the evenings, but she had her own room, large, bright, clean and nicely furnished. She'd found her employer to be a man of few words who adhered to a strict routine, but she respected him and was grateful to him and endeavoured to maintain the high standards he insisted on. She found she could handle the servants quite well; neither of them lived in and d**k only came for a few hours each day, the rest of the time he was employed in the haulage yard.

Mary-Kate had only come into conflict with Lewis Vannin once and that had been over Ellen. She'd caught the child in the hall one night as she was about to retire. Only a dim light burned on the landing and as she had closed the kitchen door a movement in the semi-darkness had caught her attention.

'Ellen, is that you?' she'd asked, softly, There had been no reply.

'Ellen, I know you're there. Do I have to switch on the main light?" The little girl had stepped out of the shadows. She had her hat and coat on and was clutching an old

Gladstone bag.

'Where are you going?'

The question had been met with silence and a sullen

expression.

She'd taken her by the arm and led her to the foot of the stairs, then, placing her hands on her shoulders, she'd gently pushed her down on to the bottom stair. She'd sat down beside her.

'You're running away, aren't you?'

'Yes.'

'Why? Do you hate your home that much?'

'No.'

"Then why?'

'Because... I'm not telling you. You don't care

either.'

'How do you know that?' 'You don't. No one does.'

'You're wrong. I do care.' The child hadn't answered or even turned her head.

'I know what it's like Ellen, to lose someone you love very much. I lost my father and my brother. I loved them both and they were killed, shot dead."

'Who killed them?" 'Soldiers.'

There had been a short silence. 'I'm going away because because he's sending me away to another hateful school!'

Mary-Kate had almost been able to feel the misery trapped in the small body beside her. 'He's only trying to do the best for you, give you a good education.'

'No, he's not, he doesn't want me here! He doesn't want me at all!' Her voice had risen louder and had echoed through the quiet house.

The library door had opened, throwing a beam of light

across the hall, catching them both in its glow. 'What's the matter?' She had risen slowly and Ellen had tried to hide herself

behind her. 'What is that child doing up at this hour and dressed like that?"

She had been in a terrible dilemma. She wanted to speak out for Ellen, but that had been Mrs Rickard's downfall and she couldn't afford to lose her job. 'Could I speak to

you, Sir?' His gaze moved from his daughter to herself and she had quailed.

'Go upstairs, Ellen,' she'd instructed, quietly. The child had stared at her hard for a few seconds, her expression almost identical to her father's, but before she turned Mary-Kate had caught a fleeting, pleading glance in the grey eyes.

Mr Vannin had closed the door behind her and she'd stood in silence, her hands clasped in front of her, until

he'd sat down at his desk again. 'She said she was running away because you are sending her away to another school,' Mary-Kate said as firmly as she could.

'Did she?'

'She doesn't want to go.' 'Miss Macbeth, what I do with my daughter is my

affair. Mrs Rickard found that out to her cost!' 'I'm aware of that, Sir. I know my place.'

'But?'

Oh, dare she go on? she had wondered frantically.

But she is desperately unhappy. I told her you were only thinking of her education, but she seems to think you don't...

'Don't what?"

'You don't want her at all.'

He had continued to stare at her and she had dropped her eyes. He hadn't spoken and she'd felt fear rising. Had she said too much? At last he broke the silence. That is nonsense!'

'I tried to tell her that. I told her that I knew how

miserable she felt.'

'Did you? And do you?'

She'd raised her head. 'Yes, I do. I lost my father and my elder brother, they were killed. My brother was only twenty-five.'

There was pain and heartache in the clear, hazel eyes, although her manner was calm and dutiful. There was no trace of the aggressive, blustering of his former housekeeper, and yet he felt her very calmness to be an accusation. He'd thought about Mrs Rickard's acid comments, after his initial anger had passed. True, he hadn't given her accusations much credence, but strangely they had hurt. Whenever he looked at Molly's photograph he felt a stirring of guilt.

'And what opinion do you hold of me?"

'It's not my place to have opinions."

'But you do, don't you?'

She had bitten back the words. *Speak freely, Miss Macbeth, please.'

She wasn't going to be drawn on that account. 'I think perhaps if Ellen went to a day school she'd be happier,' she had ventured.

There had been another long, heavy silence before he had said, 'I will consider it. Goodnight, Miss Macbeth,' and she had been dismissed. She'd found Ellen crouched on the landing, peering

between the spindles of the bannister rail like a small, caged animal, and the sight had tugged sharply at her heart. 'Were you listening?"

Ellen had nodded.

'It's very rude to eavesdrop. I told you to go upstairs.' 'I am upstairs!' had been the whispered retort.

'Ellen, you are far too bold for your own good. It won't do you any good with your Father or me, and probably no one else either. No one likes an insolent child. Would you like people to speak so nastily to you? Of course you wouldn't, so stop it. "Do as you would be done by," my Ma always taught me.'

The sullen expression had vanished and the bottom lip had trembled.

Now go to bed. I'll come and tuck you in and hear you say your prayers. At least your father's considering my suggestion and if I were you I wouldn't be rude or objectionable towards him, not if you want to stay here!' Mary-Kate had escorted her to the door of her room

but, before she went in, Ellen had turned to her. I'm

too big to be tucked in, that's for babies and I can say my prayers, too!' 'Very well, but make sure you ask God to look after your Pa, Ellen. I'm sure that's what your Ma would want do.'

you to She had been rewarded by a nod and a muttered 'Thank you' before Ellen had closed her door.

The following day, Lewis Vannin called Mary-Kate into the library and told her that he was arranging for Ellen to go to a day school convent in Crosby.

Annie was scouring the pans as Mary-Kate entered, but she looked up and smiled. 'Could you add some scour ing powder to the list, Miss Macbeth, I've just used the last?"

Mary-Kate nodded and sat down at the table, drawing the letter from her pocket.

'Is that a letter from home?"