The Scottish Heart

Chapter 1-5

“Is that right enough?”

They moved closer to the building and read the commemorative plaque. The builders, former soldiers, fought in the Napoleonic Wars. They started work in eighten sixteen and finished three years later.

“There"s so much history here, Nathan. Thank you for bringing me.”

They moved to the end of the Quay near the crumbling boom defence depot to be far away from other people. They sat on a bollard, its dark blue steel warm by the sun.

“How are things at home?” Nathan said.

She looked at her sandals and the brim of her sun hat hid her profile. “My dad"s a troubled man. I worry about him.”

Nathan felt they had to share secrets; take risks, hiding nothing that could surface painfully later.

“My father probably should have the top job at the yard in Hong Kong, but he didn"t get it. Afterwards, our life changed completely. He drank far too much and the company sent him to dry out.”

“Did it work?”

“For a while and then the drinking started again and they sent him home.”

Dorothy shuddered, “He hit my mother and when I tried to stop him, he hit me.”

Nathan touched her hand resting on the bollard. “I"m so sorry.”

“Well, it"s come to a head. Today, he and my mother are at lunch with the Managing Director. The company want him to supervise work on two destroyers for the Turkish Navy. It"s an important job. My father is a gifted Naval Architect. He"ll be in Istanbul for three or four months. I"m afraid if he doesn"t control his drinking, the company will sack him. My mother"s going with him; trying to keep him right. I wish there was something more I could do.”

“I think it"s up to him, now.”

“Do you drink, Nathan?”

“No, I don"t. I find everything in the music. I play better without it.”

“I thought all the men here drank.”

“I drank a bit when I got out of the Army. I went out with an older woman for a while. She was a singer I worked with. The drink and her didn"t agree with me. I haven"t seen her in a long time.”

”I see,” Dorothy said and pressed his hand.

Nathan looked up and saw a black suited man walking briskly towards them. The priest doffed the heavy, dark felt hat and looked as if he would stop and speak. Nathan gave him a curt nod and turned away. The priest replaced his hat and hurried on.

“Who was that man?”

“A priest from my school days. Brendan Toner. We never got on.”

Dorothy, worried that Nathan might turn gloomy, pointed to the river. “Oh, look at that old ship.”

She was an old duchess of the sea with her woodbine funnel and counter stern. They listened to the rhythmic thump of the ship"s reciprocating steam engine coming over the water.

“The Santander; a Spanish ship,” Nathan said. “The yard built her in eighteen ninty-seven. I worked on her last week.”

“Gosh,” Dorothy said. She watched the Santander heading down river to the open sea. Dorothy was lovely and Nathan wanted to hold her. “The Santander"s gone now,” Dorothy said.

“She"s a graceful old lady,” Nathan said.

“I like Ma,” Dorothy said.

“I meant the Santander,” Nathan said.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“Just kidding. I like Ma too. She brought me up.”

“What"s Ma"s name; and your grandfather?”

“Millicent. Her friends call her Millie, but she likes Ma too. My grandfather"s name was James.”

“What happened to your Mum and Dad?”

“My Mum died when I was born. Her name was Olive. She was good looking. My father was a seaman, name of William Calderwood. He died in an accident before I was born so he"s always been remote. That"s all I know about him. I"ve never used Calderwood.”

“You don"t know anything about him?”

“No. Ma said he was an orphan and a neighbour"s son brought him home on leave and he met my mum. Ma was heartbroken when my mum died. She was eighteen, an only child.”

“How awful. I"m sorry.”

“Look, Dorothy, I"m illegitimate. It"s bad enough yet but it was grim in nineteen thirty-three when I was born. I"m twenty-five but to some people I"m just a bastard.”

“Well, I"m not one of them, Nathan.”

“A priest tried to take me away from Ma and my Grandfather,” Nathan said.

“What happened?”

“The Parish Priest, an Irishman, came to the house. He told Ma and James to deliver me from bastardy and give me to a respectable and loving Catholic family.”

“How dreadful.”

“My Grandfather told him to get out of the house. Ma and James adopted me. It"s hard not knowing your mother; there"s no happy ending.”

“Have people been unkind to you?”

“In school they called me a bastard, and I fought them. In the Army I quarreled with a soldier who called me a bastard. Once I stumbled at drill and a Corporal called me a stupid bastard. I challenged him, and got a thick ear and seven days KP. Out of the Army, I quit fighting over it; fights made no difference. But here, people I liked avoided me and a couple of girls stood me up. It doesn"t matter to my friends now.”

“That"s dreadful.”

Nathan felt that he might as well give her the rest of the bad news. ”You know I"m a Catholic, don"t you? I gave it up years ago. Toner, that priest who passed us; well, he said I was born out of wedlock.”

“That"s so cruel, Nathan. I assumed you were a Catholic.”

“And you"re not bothered about it?”

“Of course not.”

Nathan felt that he could tell this girl anything about himself. He told her about the hatred between Catholics and Protestants down the yard: engineers tended to be Protestants and the Catholics welders, burners, caulkers, riveters and platers. “We"re called the Black Squad.”

“I see,” Dorothy said.

“Protestants have called me a Tim, a Teague, a Pape, a Fienian and worse. There"s no escape, Dorothy: once a Tim, always a Tim. The Catholics are just as bad. I want nothing to do with any of it.”

He told Dorothy about the snowy day when he and a few others walked home from school through a tough Protestant neighbourhood. A gang of boys threw hard snowballs with stones in the middle.

“I was thirteen. I got hit on the head and knocked out. In the Infirmary they put a couple of stitches in the wound.”

But Nathan didn"t tell Dorothy that the Protestant gang leader, shouted “f**k The Pope.” A week later he and two others ambushed that older boy and gave him a kicking.

“I never heard of any trouble mentioned at school in Hong Kong; and it was never spoken of in my school in Edinburgh. Nathan, I like you just as you are.”

“Kids stuff, load a shite,” Nathan had said one day down the yard, to an unfortunate apprentice he"d seen holding hands with his girlfriend. “Yer fuckin" head"s wasted.” This was Nathan"s public, hard man mask.

Nathan"s warm manner said that he liked Dorothy and she guessed that he needed a sign from her. She folded her hand into Nathan"s as they walked back to Galt Place, and Nathan clasped her hand.

They turned for a last look before they left the Old Quay. Eastwards lay the panorama of the cranes, the stocks, fitting out berths and the entrance to the Graving Dock: places that pumped the lifeblood through Westburn.

“A good day then, Dorothy?”

“Oh, gosh, yes But it"s not over, is it? I mean we are going back to Ma"s, aren"t we?”

“Of course we are. Did you think I"d let you get away?”

Dorothy"s gesture, the presence of her hand in his hand, made Nathan confident, and he stopped her, covering her hand with both of his hands. “I"m really sorry I didn"t answer your calls. I didn"t want to cause trouble. I"m so glad you came today. I"ve thought a lot about you since that night we first met.”

“I thought a lot about you too,” Dorothy said. “I wanted to see you again.”

Dorothy looked at her plate. “What is it?”

“It"s herrings dressed in oatmeal,” Ma said, ”with new potatoes and chopped cabbage, and after that we"ll have fruit compote.”

“I"ve never tasted herrings in oatmeal.”

“Never?” Nathan said.

“Well, I grew up in Hong Kong.”

Ma had prepared a light dinner for such a hot June evening. She filled the glasses with cold water from the jug on the table, and Dorothy took a sip. She cut into the fish and tentatively chewed on a forkful. Ma and Nathan waited.

Nathan and Ma liked visitors. Ma threw a party two or three times a year for the band. Leo and his family were frequent visitors. She had a soft spot for Chris, a serviceman far from home and she and Nathan looked forward to the special days when their friend, Ma"s old employer, Mr. Montague Solomon came to Galt Place. Monty Solomon; Mr. Monty to Nathan: his mentor and father figure whom he often went to for advice. But this was the first time a girl, a friend of Nathan"s, dined with them.

Ma, confident about her cooking, was unfazed entertaining a girl from the middle-class, especially as she liked Dorothy Jones on sight and sensed that Dorothy returned the liking. But Nathan worried that Dorothy would look down on them.

Dorothy cut the herring into small pieces and chewed delicately. She had beautiful manners. “Mmm,” Dorothy murmured and then swallowed. “Oh, it"s very good.”

“An" it"s good for ye, oily fish,” Ma said. “Improves yer brains.”

“Dorothy has plenty of brains,” Nathan said. “She"s going to St Andrew"s University.”

“Ah"ll tidy up,” Ma said. “Show Dorothy yer records, Nathan. He must have every Jazz record. An" he plays the piano as well.”

“I"d like that, but I"d better think about going. My parents will be home soon. If I"m not in, they"ll wonder where I am.”

“I"ll walk with you,” Nathan said.

“Ye can hear them next time ye come,” Ma said.

Nathan caught the question in Dorothy"s eye. Would she be visiting again? He walked with her most of the way home. He didn"t want her parents to see them together. It was a fine clear night. She"d folded her hand into his as soon as they left Galt Place.

“That was a lovely day, Nathan, and I so enjoyed my dinner.”

He clasped her hand more firmly. She smiled.

“Will I see you again?” Nathan said.

“Oh yes. I"d like that; and you"ll play the piano for me?”