sympathetically. “Just gie it a wee while, ok pal?”
“Ach, maybe yer right, Wattie, but just for a while mind.” Willie sat back down heavily.
Despite their comforting words, they were all afraid the worst had happened and, if it had, what better place for Willie to find out but among his friends and neighbors. They sat around the fire lapsing into silence when they ran out of things to say.
Wattie stood up. “Well, ah have tae be aff tae mah work. Dinnae you worry aboot you no’ showin’ up, ah’ll fix it wi’ his nibs.”
With the men gone Willie felt uncomfortable sitting in the kitchen with the women. They cajoled him into staying for a while with cups of tea but his restlessness reached a point where, despite their protests, he walked out into the close heading for the street. He was at the close mouth when he bumped into Wattie who was just then turning in.
“Whit are you daeing back? Whit is, whit’s happened?”
Wattie said nothing and leaned on the wall of the close. He reached in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag before looking back at Willie.
“Ah went doon tae Yarrow’s but ah didnae make it by the front gate. Whit used tae be the gate that is.”
"Thae bombs hit Yarrow’s?” Willie asked.
Wattie nodded. “Aye. There wis glass everywhere. The place looks like it goat a right pastin’. They were jist letting a few men intae the yard, and they sent the rest o’ us hame.” He took another drag on the cigarette and stared at the other wall.
But Willie felt there was something else his friend knew, and he pressed him for more details.
“Aye well,” Wattie said heavily, “they got the bomb shelter near the plumbing shop. Every man that wis in the place is deid.”
Betty and Mary McKay and her two daughters, had followed Willie out of the house and were listening. There was a shocked silence in which they looked at each other, trying to take in the terrible news.
A No. 9 tram pulled to a stop across the street and left to reveal the figure of Ella. For a moment they hesitated, then sure of her identity, rushed to her side dodging a bicyclist who was coming up at a fair clip and swore at them as he passed. But they came to a halt a few steps from her, shocked by her haggard and filthy appearance.
Ella, who always took such pride in herself and her house was in such a state of disrepair and distress that at first no words would come out. Her hair was matted and thick with plaster and dirt. Her good coat was ripped at the shoulder, a great flap of fabric hanging down to her belt. Dried blood stained her legs and face. They were horrified and immensely relieved in the same instant.
Betty stepped forward and grasped Ella’s arm, but she wrenched it free and went over to Willie. Without saying a word she looked him right in the eye, and a silent communication, a special knowledge built on years of marriage, passed between them. To the great shock and consternation of all but Ella, Willie began to cry. Ella put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.
Betty and Mary looked at each other and shifted on their feet, uncomfortable beyond words at this scene. Neither had ever seen a man cry before. And then they understood what had passed between Ella and Willie. Betty put her hand to her mouth and looked helplessly around her.
“Come on you two, come wi’ me,” Mary McKay ordered, shepherding Willie and Ella towards the close. Like children they allowed themselves to be brought along, tears streaming silently down their faces.
Mary brought them into Betty’s kitchen and sat them down. “Betty, dae ye have anything stronger than tea?” Mary demanded.
Betty left the room and returned a few moments later with a bottle of whiskey. “Alec keeps this for medicinal purposes” she told Mary.
“Oh aye,“ Mary said knowingly, “does he get sick a lot then?” noticing the bottle
“Ach, maybe yer right, Wattie, but just for a while mind.” Willie sat back down heavily.
Despite their comforting words, they were all afraid the worst had happened and, if it had, what better place for Willie to find out but among his friends and neighbors. They sat around the fire lapsing into silence when they ran out of things to say.
Wattie stood up. “Well, ah have tae be aff tae mah work. Dinnae you worry aboot you no’ showin’ up, ah’ll fix it wi’ his nibs.”
With the men gone Willie felt uncomfortable sitting in the kitchen with the women. They cajoled him into staying for a while with cups of tea but his restlessness reached a point where, despite their protests, he walked out into the close heading for the street. He was at the close mouth when he bumped into Wattie who was just then turning in.
“Whit are you daeing back? Whit is, whit’s happened?”
Wattie said nothing and leaned on the wall of the close. He reached in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag before looking back at Willie.
“Ah went doon tae Yarrow’s but ah didnae make it by the front gate. Whit used tae be the gate that is.”
"Thae bombs hit Yarrow’s?” Willie asked.
Wattie nodded. “Aye. There wis glass everywhere. The place looks like it goat a right pastin’. They were jist letting a few men intae the yard, and they sent the rest o’ us hame.” He took another drag on the cigarette and stared at the other wall.
But Willie felt there was something else his friend knew, and he pressed him for more details.
“Aye well,” Wattie said heavily, “they got the bomb shelter near the plumbing shop. Every man that wis in the place is deid.”
Betty and Mary McKay and her two daughters, had followed Willie out of the house and were listening. There was a shocked silence in which they looked at each other, trying to take in the terrible news.
A No. 9 tram pulled to a stop across the street and left to reveal the figure of Ella. For a moment they hesitated, then sure of her identity, rushed to her side dodging a bicyclist who was coming up at a fair clip and swore at them as he passed. But they came to a halt a few steps from her, shocked by her haggard and filthy appearance.
Ella, who always took such pride in herself and her house was in such a state of disrepair and distress that at first no words would come out. Her hair was matted and thick with plaster and dirt. Her good coat was ripped at the shoulder, a great flap of fabric hanging down to her belt. Dried blood stained her legs and face. They were horrified and immensely relieved in the same instant.
Betty stepped forward and grasped Ella’s arm, but she wrenched it free and went over to Willie. Without saying a word she looked him right in the eye, and a silent communication, a special knowledge built on years of marriage, passed between them. To the great shock and consternation of all but Ella, Willie began to cry. Ella put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.
Betty and Mary looked at each other and shifted on their feet, uncomfortable beyond words at this scene. Neither had ever seen a man cry before. And then they understood what had passed between Ella and Willie. Betty put her hand to her mouth and looked helplessly around her.
“Come on you two, come wi’ me,” Mary McKay ordered, shepherding Willie and Ella towards the close. Like children they allowed themselves to be brought along, tears streaming silently down their faces.
Mary brought them into Betty’s kitchen and sat them down. “Betty, dae ye have anything stronger than tea?” Mary demanded.
Betty left the room and returned a few moments later with a bottle of whiskey. “Alec keeps this for medicinal purposes” she told Mary.
“Oh aye,“ Mary said knowingly, “does he get sick a lot then?” noticing the bottle
Similar Books
