Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

She turned around and found herself looking up into the face of a very tall, well-built young man. She took a step backwards, clutching her bag tightly. She'd not heard him come up behind her. 'I'm no' going to rob you! Are you looking for someone?

I've not seen you around here before?'

'I'm I'm looking for a friend, Bernadette O'Hagan,

can you tell me where she lives?'

A broad smile spread across his face. 'Why didn't

say you were looking for Bernie?'

you

Relief gave her courage. 'Can you just tell me which

one of these buildings she lives in?'

'I can do better than that. I'll take you. I was on my way to Archie's anyway. Can I take your bag?' 'No, thank you. I can manage it. I've dragged it on and off trains all the way from Liverpool.' He shrugged his broad shoulders and began to walk down the road.

She fell into step beside him, trying to concentrate on avoiding stepping into the worst of the filth that fouled the pavement. They walked in silence, but she cast surrep titious glances at him from time to time. He reminded her of Edward Vinetti, except that he was younger and much taller and his eyes were blue and the clothes he wore were of a poor quality. She did notice that his shirt was clean and although his jacket and trousers didn't match, they, too, were clean and decent enough. He had pushed the cloth cap to the back of his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, as if to reassure her that he wasn't about to snatch her bag and run.

'Bernie never mentioned she was expecting a friend.' 'She doesn't know I'm here, but she told me if I got fed up with Liverpool to come up to Glasgow."

'What's your name?' He had already guessed that she had run away from something or someone and she didn't look as though she was used to living in neighbourhoods like the Gorbals. Her clothes alone told him that much, quite apart from the glazed, disbelieving look in her eyes. She was an attractive lassie, but a timid, scared

one, too. 'Lisa. Lisa O'Maxwell.'

'I'm Andrew MacDonald. My mates call me "big Andy MacDonald"."

She could see why. He must be about six-foot-three she surmised and he was handsome with that dark, curling hair, blue eyes and strong chiselled features. He walked with the air of a man who feared nothing and was totally at ease in this squalid environment.

'Here we are, follow me and mind your step!' He turned into what looked like a narrow opening the wall and she followed. Instantly the stench hit her. in

'It's the ash-pit in the court at the back. You'll get used

to it,' he said stoically, hearing the gasp behind him. Her eyes gradually adjusted to the weak light of a guttering, open gas jet and she could discern a narrow stone staircase. Andrew MacDonald was already half way up it. The steps themselves were worn and cracked. The walls were a dirty, greyish-yellow, their plaster surface was pitted and in parts completely missing, revealing the bare brickwork. There was no bannister rail and she had to keep her balance by pressing her hand against the wall.

'Here, give me that bag or you'll fall down and break

your neck!' She made no protest as he took the bag from her, since it enabled her to cover her nose and mouth with her hand. The smell was overpowering and she tried to breathe only through her mouth. As they turned on a narrow landing he pointed to a door.

"That's the lavatory, it's a flush one, but they hardly ever work or the soil pipe gets blocked.'" "They have an inside privy?' She was slightly embar

rassed by his forthright statement and amazed that such a luxury could exist in this decaying building. 'Aye, one for every three flats, but more often than not it's every six flats as they never work. Watch where you're

putting your feet!' She didn't reply. If she thought about the implications of his words she would be physically sick. He'd stopped

and was hammering on a door. Bernie opened it, dressed in a cheap print dress, her hair screwed up in curling papers. 'Oh, it's you! Well, he's takin' me out tonight, Andy MacDonald, so you'll have to go to your b****y Political Meeting on your own.' Then she saw the figure standing beside him and her eyes widened. 'Holy Mother of God! Lisa O'Maxwell!' 'I found her wandering up and down the street looking

for this place." 'Lisa! Sure, I never expected to see you again." 3 'Are you no' going to ask the lassie in, seein' as how she's come all the way from Liverpool?'

With a gentle push Lisa was propelled into the room and Andrew followed, placing her bag down on the floor. Bernie shut the door as a second young man appeared

in the room. 'I thought I heard you, Andy. Who's this?" "This is Lisa, she's a friend of mine from back home. This is Archie."

Lisa nodded to the stocky young man with light, sandy-coloured hair and pale blue eyes. He smiled back. 'Nice to see you, Lisa." 'I told her to come up here any time she got fed up

with Liverpool."

Archie nodded.

'Are you coming to the Worker's Circle then, man?" Archie's gaze flitted from his friend's face to that of Bernie and finally Lisa.

'Oh, go on then the pair of you! But you're takin' me out tomorrow night, Archie Dalrymple, that you are!' His face cracked in a broad grin. 'It's a promise, hen. I'll just get my coat and we'll be away. Come on, Andy, before she changes her mind.' And grabbing his jacket he kissed Bernie on the cheek, nodded to Lisa and followed Andy MacDonald, who was already half way out of the door.

Lisa looked around. It reminded her of Aunt Maura's kitchen on the morning they had arrived at Lancaster Street and she felt exactly the same sense of despair, compounded with weariness and disillusionment. The tears welled up and trickled down her cheeks.

'So you've up and left them, then? Come on, sit down and tell me all about it. Sure, I couldn't put up with those two for long meself.'

Lisa broke down and between sobs told her the whole story. When she'd finished, Bernie got up and pushed the kettle back on the hob.

'Blow your nose. God above! Every time I see you you're in a desperate state about something. I'll make us a cup of tea. The place is a bit of a mess, but beggars can't be choosers! It'll be a bit of a crush, you'll have to share with me and Eileen. She'll tidy up when she gets in.' 'Who's Eileen?' Lisa sniffed, feeling a bit calmer

now. Bernie lit a cigarette and threw the match in the general direction of the range. 'Archie's sister. You don't think I'm "living in sin" with him, do you? God, we'd be lynched! It may not be much of a neighbourhood but they still have some standards.' Bernie clattered around and then set two mugs of steaming hot tea down on the table and resumed her seat. 'If you've come here with all those fancy notions

then you're in for a shock! It's out of the frying pan, into the fire! Oh, your accent won't matter much here, but your religion will.'

'Why?'

'Sure the place is full of Orangemen! "Billys" they call themselves, so if anyone asks you if you're a "Billy" or a "Dan" tell them you're a heathen or a Jew - there's enough of them here I do! Though why they call us "Dans" I wouldn't be knowin'!' Bernie stubbed out the cigarette in an old, cracked saucer already full of dog-ends. "The trouble is they don't tell you what they are first!'

It was getting worse. It was totally incomprehensible that she should have to deny her religion. First she had been humiliated because of her accent, now it seemed the same applied to her religion. Tears were threaten ing again.

Bernie looked at her steadily. The trouble with you, Lisa O'Maxwell, is that you've always had those two to take your side and look after you. Sure, there was no one in our class that would say "Boo" to you because of your Nancy and her desperate temper. But you've left them. You're on your own now. You've got to grow Lisa, because I can't look after you, I'm too busy lookin' after meself! Holy Mother! You're nearly twenty and you're cryin' and sobbin' like a six year old. Get a grip of yourself and grow up. I never had any of the things you had, so I don't miss them, but you've got to learn to do without all that. You'll have to stand up for yourself and you'll have to learn to grab what you want, fight for it and hang on to it. Expect nothin' and you'll not be disappointed me Ma always said and she's right. Mind you, you've made a good start.' 'How?'

'Big Andy MacDonald, that's how. Isn't he the most handsome man around and aren't half the girls in the Gorbals after him and tryin' to get him to "stamp their card"! And doesn't he pick you up off the street and bring you here, and carryin' your bag, too.'

'I didn't think about him like that

What's "stamp their card"?' Bernie looked at her incredulously. 'God, but you're an innocent! Get them pregnant so he'll have to marry them.' Lisa stared back, just as incredulous, a blush spread

ing over her cheeks. But that's... it's a Mortal Sin!'

Tell that to them! It's the only way some of them will

ever get wedded. Archie sleeps there. She pointed to a

curtained alcove next to the range, as if reading Lisa's

mind. Eileen and me share the bedroom.' She finished

her tea. 'Bring your bag and we'll get you unpacked and

tomorrow you can come with me to McFarlane's garment

factory. They'll take you on, they're always mad busy this

time of year. Don't go pullin' such a face, it's a job! I

know it's not Copeland and Lye on Sauchiehall Street,

but you've got to start somewhere."

'I've got some money, Bernie, I can pay for my keep,'

Lisa opened her purse and passed the coins over. 'I'll take this for now but when we get paid, we'll sort things out properly. I'll not have you sayin' I'm robbin' you blind.''

'Where does Archie work?'

'Dixon's Blazes, the big iron foundry. You must have seen its chimney belching out smoke and flames, you can see it for miles. Andy works there, too, most of the time. Sometimes they're laid off and then they have to go on the "Broo", the Unemployment.'

Lisa picked up her bag but before she could move into the other room the door opened and a girl of about fifteen came in. She had the same sandy hair and pale blue eyes as Archie, but she was painfully thin. Her hair, scraped back into a loose plait, looked damp and her face shone as though it had been scrubbed. Under her arm was a rolled up towel.

'Oh, you're back then.'

'Who's she?'

Lisa, and she's stayin' with us. She's a friend of mine and before you start, Archie knows! Po face little b***h, Bernie muttered before going into the bedroom. Lisa smiled at the girl before turning to follow Bernie. Eileen turned mutely away.

Together they unpacked the bag with Bernie exclaiming how 'grand' her things were and then bemoaning the fact that they were totally unsuitable and would soon get dirty and probably ruined and wasn't that a sin altogether? To Lisa's surprise the room, although small, was clean and neat. The bedlinen was clean but on closer inspection was much darned and mended. The rag rug on the otherwise bare floor added the only touch of colour to the uniform drabness. The old, scarred chest was dusted and a cheap brush and comb were laid neatly side by side, on one half

of the top. "That's her half,' Bernie informed her, as Lisa put her brush and hair clips beside them.

'She drives me mad, that she does! Always scrubbin'

and dustin' and tidyin' up and it's a pure waste of time

around here!'

As if to emphasize that statement, the distinct rattling of dishes came from the kitchen. ""A right dour little lassie"

Archie calls her, takes after her Ma, he says.' Lisa felt sorry for the girl. Where is her Ma?'

'Dead and her Pa, too."

'Where's she been?'

'For a bath, she goes every Sunday. Waste of good money, it is. Sixpence a week!' Bernie stopped covertly admiring Lisa's cream blouse. 'I know what we'll do. There's nothing better than a good soak when you're worn out, why don't we go down to the Baths?'

'Won't they be back soon?'

Bernie laughed. "Those two? They'll be hours setting the world to rights and don't they do it every night, too, but it's not made much difference that I can see. Come on, I'll get a towel and some soap.'