‘And yer tae stay here fae a wee while!’ Jeannie props the bed tray over Harriet’s knees ‘Ye heard what young Master Kester said’
‘Mmm’ Harriet sounds disgruntled ‘Breakfast in bed, another nap and then I MAY be allowed to get up!’
‘Och, awa wi’ye! The laddie only wants what’s best fae ye and he knew fair well how tuckered oot ye’d be this morning’
‘But you had no need to come in early to ensure that I did as I was told!’ Harriet shakes out her serviette with a thwack and tucks it into the neck of her bed jacket. She looks at the plate and reluctantly takes up her knife and fork.
‘Suits me fine, I can get on better wi’out ye under ma feet’ Jeannie expounds ‘I’ll hae the downstairs done quicker than ye can eat that’ she dismisses Harriet’s objections with a nod of her head towards the tray and turns to leave.
‘You will not!’ Harriet points her knife to indicate the loom weave chair between the dressing table and the bedside cabinet. ‘Not if you sit and talk whilst I do so. Bring it closer’ she commands.
‘And then ye’ll take a wee nap?’
‘And then I’ll have a wee nap’
‘Were ye late tae yer bed last night then?’ Jeannie lifts the chair forward and turns to sit down.
Harriet chews and swallows ‘Not extra specially. This is a lot of fuss about nothing’ the knife scrapes on the plate as she reloads her fork with egg and toast.
‘Aye, the laddie’s a great one fae making a fuss aboot nothing at all’ Jeannie mutters.
‘Mrs. Brown, I would thank you for not taking that tone of voice with me!’ The knife points again.
‘Aye, and yer crabbit too, a sure sign if ever there was one. It were all a wee bit much fae thee, was it not .....Well?’ she insists on an answer
Harriet sighs between mouthfuls ‘Yes, I suppose it was’
‘There ye go then’ Jeannie sits in triumphant silence while Harriet eats.
‘We did what was necessary and it was seen to be done, that is all that matters and now it is over, it is best forgotten’ Harriet sets her knife and fork together with resolute precision and dabs her mouth with the end of the serviette.
‘Wis there many folk there?’
‘I’m afraid my dear departed daughter in law did not leave many friends behind’ she lifts the lid on the small, two cup, pot and gives the tea a stir.
‘Noo, I dinna suppose she did’
‘Representatives, of course’ Harriet continues as she pours ‘but all in all it was a much quieter affair than perhaps she would have expected’ She holds the teapot above the tray ‘Will you join me?’
‘I’m fine, hen’ Jeannie shakes her head. ‘Aye...I thought as much....’ she says, returning to the subject of the funeral ‘There wis a wee bit on the news a ye all going in, she wouldnae a thanked the press fae making more a ye than her’ the corners of her mouth twitch.
‘Oh dear’ Harriet fights to conceal her amusement ‘I hope I looked suitably saddened’
‘Ye did....and Mister Christopher wi’ the family around him. Richt proper it looked too, she couldna fault a thing had she been living’
‘I think she may have objected...eventually’
‘Och, awa wi ye!’ the chuckle burst forth ‘Ye ken ma meaning’
It takes a few moments for Harriet to compose herself. She sips from her tea. ‘It was all very dignified.....aside from one young lady’s histrionics’ her eyebrows rise and her mouth tightens.
‘Young Imogen, dae ye mean?’
‘Who else? I am loath to admit it....but...I was ashamed, Jeannie, truly I was and that is a dreadful thing to have to confess. As a family we have always carried ourselves with dignity no matter what. Always!
‘Daresay she feels it more than most’ Jeannie declares with some sympathy.
‘Pah!’ Harriet disagrees ‘If I had felt there was any true sentiment behind her distress, I would have nothing but sympathy for the girl but I can quite see why she has not successfully followed in her father’s footsteps....Ellis’s come to that. I have seen the vicar give a better performance in the church pantomime!’
‘Dearie me!’
‘You may well say that too. There is playing to an audience and there is playing to an audience!’ Harriet says crossly ‘and a congregation is NOT an audience’ She take a few more sips from her cup to calm herself ‘No doubt that was done for the benefit of any casting director who may have been present’ she adds witheringly and returns the cup to its saucer. She lays her serviette beside her empty plate ‘But she did herself no favours whatsoever’
‘Taks after her mither then’ Jeannie passes judgement with a small sniff as she removes the tray ‘She couldnae act her way oot a paper bag either’
‘And my son could see through neither of them’ Harriet lies back on her pillows with a sigh. ‘I will take that nap now, Jeannie. I have quite exhausted myself’
‘Okay, hen. I’ll pop up in a wee while. Shall I draw the blinds to?’
‘No, thank you, please leave them open....’ Harriet lays looking out of the window ‘I quite like to watch the clouds...’ she says with a wan smile ‘It brings me a little calm’
‘To be hoped yer’ll soon nod off, then. Couple a hours’ll do yer fine an’ yer’ll be bright as a button fae lunchtime when the laddie drops by’ Jeannie says as she goes to the door ‘Ye made a guid breakfast’ she remarks with a satisfied smile ‘He’ll be pleased aboot that too. Richt, I’ll leave yer in peace tae enjoy yer calm’
‘Oh, Jeannie’ Harriet sighs and responds in an unsteady voice ‘I wish could feel truly peaceful....I...’ she closes her eyes tightly and shakes the thoughts from her head before turning to gaze out of the window once more. ‘It doesn’t matter’
Jeannie puts the tray on the dressing table and crosses the room to sit on the side of the bed ‘It matters some if it’s worrying ye’ she says softly and takes Harriet’s hand ‘A trouble shared mean ye dinna fret aboot it’
‘No...really’ Harriet refuses to meet Jeannie’s look of concern ‘It is something I have to deal with myself, there is no solution’ her eyes swim ‘The fault is in me, no one else’
‘Och’ Jeannie chides softly ‘There noo, dinna fret’ She sits and watches Harriet’s face and continues to try and offer comfort by alternately stroking and patting her hand ‘Ye canna love everybody, hen’ she whispers eventually.
Harriet turns her head sharply; her mouth twisted in anguish ‘Oh, Jeannie!’ the tears come.
‘Shushhhhh’
‘I have tried so hard’ she sobs as Jeannie puts her arms around her. ‘How...’
‘Ye just get a feel fae these things’ she rubs Harriet’s back to soothe her ‘There noo. It’d be an awfy guid soul who cud find a place in their heart fae everything’
‘But she’s my granddaughter!’
‘Aye’ Jeannie says noncommittally ‘So she is’
‘I have tried so hard’ Harriet repeats in a whisper, freeing herself from Jeannie’s embrace and reaching for a tissue from the box on the bedside table. ‘But it is beyond me’ she blots her cheeks dry and dabs at her nose ‘What am I to do, Jeannie?’
‘Ye cannae do a thing but accept it, it’s nae guid fretting aboot something ye cannae change’
‘But I should be able to love her in the same way I do Kester and Ellis, I should be able to. I should be able to change’
‘There’s naught says ye hae tae. The wee besom hae shown nae love fae thee o’er the years’ Jeannie’s face sets with dislike ‘An ye’s always treated her fine despite it. Noo, dinna fret, hen, t’is no shame’
‘I should be mortified should she even suspect that is the way I feel’
‘It’ll be oor secret’ Jeannie is quick to reassure ‘And I cannae blame yer none fae she’s a wee witch if ever there wis one, so you put her oot yer mind noo’
‘I wish it were that simple’ Harriet sighs and dabs at her nose again.
‘There....’ Jeannie straightens the bedclothes as Harriet lies back. ‘You hae ye rest and things will look brighter then, ye’ll see’
Tawny House, Manor Road
Chapter Thirty
Rose Cottage, Albans Lane
‘You ain’t s’posed t’see me in me weddin clobber!’ George stands behind the bedroom door and pushes it closed on Jessie.
‘Don’t be so blooming daft! It’s the bride in her wedding dress you’re not supposed to see’ Jessie sighs in exasperation ‘let me in and stop being stupid’
‘I’m managin’ alright on me own’
‘And I want to see what you look like!’ Jessie insists crossly ‘I don’t want you showing me up on the day’
‘I’s alright!’
‘George Harris, if you don’t let me in right now, I shan’t turn up at the church at all and you’ll look a right plonker no matter how that suit fits!’
‘It don’t’
‘What doesn’t?’ Jessie’s forehead pinches in a puzzled frown ‘What are you on about now?’
‘Me suit. It don’t fit no more’
‘Of course it flipping well fits, you’ve only had it a couple of weeks, how can you say it doesn’t fit? Let me in, I’ll see if it flipping well fits or not’
‘I ain’t letting yer in iffin you’s in that sort a mood’ George mutters, letting his trousers drop to the floor and stepping out of them, his backside holding the door shut.
‘I’m not in any sort of mood but I soon will be if you don’t open this door!’
‘S’open’ he mumbles and sits on the edge of the bed to fold the trousers and put them back onto their hanger.
Jessie stands just inside the doorway with her hands on her hips. ‘Well, it’s no good putting them back on the hanger, is it? Put them on and let me see’
‘They don’t dang well fit, woman! Be told won’t yer?’ he bridles sulkily.
‘Where don’t they fit?’
‘Every bloody where’ George grunts.
Jessie moves closer ‘Put them on and let me see. I might be able to get them let out or something’
‘We int got no time fer that!’ he argues
‘Do as you are told and put the bloody things on!’
George looks at Jessie in astonishment ‘There int no need t’swear’ he says and lowers his head with anticipated humiliation as he pulls the trousers from the hanger.
‘You are enough to make a saint swear, George, you really are. Here, let me’ She bends to hold the trousers open for him to put his feet into the legs. ‘You’re worse than a kid!’
‘You make us feel like un wi’yer goin on!’ George stands up and pulls the waist of the trousers with him ‘See?’ he argues belligerently ‘I tole yer they weren’t no good!’
‘Pull your stomach in!’ Jessie demands, looking cross.
‘Ow bloomin far d’yer reckon I can pull me gut in? ‘Sides I can’t pull me arse in, can I now?’
‘Turn round’
‘Wha’for? They don’t fit no better from t’other side neither!’
‘You can’t possibly’ve put on so much weight in a couple of weeks!’ Jessie tries to hold the waistband together as she pushes him round to look at the back view.
‘I’ll a’ter go on a diet a summat’ George gives a reluctant sigh.
‘Diet? ‘Jessie scolds ‘You’d need to starve to death before these went round you! Just a minute’ she holds up a finger as a thought occurs to her ‘Hang on, I’ve got an idea’ she bustles out of the door, leaving George sitting on the bed again with the trousers gaping open.
‘Here!’ she says, thrusting out her hand ‘Put that on and see if they fit any better’
George gapes and flushes a deep red ‘Fer gawd’s sake woman, I int wearing no bloomin corset!’
‘Why not?’ Jessie huffs, her hands fisting on her hips again ‘Nobody will know. It’s either that or I’ll do surgery with a carving knife’
‘Ere!’ George’s hands automatically cross over his crotch.
‘On your belly!’ Jessie rolls her eyes.
‘Oh, right y’are’
‘How much room do you think that thing takes up?’ she asks with a withering glance.
George scowls ‘Would a done in its day’
‘Well it’s had its day now. Put that on and we’ll see if it makes any difference’
‘Only diff’rence’ll be as I’ll be dead, look on the size of it’ he grumbles, holding the girdle between both hands ‘I int never gonna get in there, you’re ‘alf the size I am, I shouldn’t be able t’breathe!’
Jessie’s shoulders slump ‘Ohh, I suppose you’re right’ she agrees grudgingly ‘Then we’re just going to have to go and get another suit. They might take this one back if it’s not been worn. I can’t understand it at all. Have you had an upset tum or something...you know...make you blow up like that?’
‘I int got wind if tha’s what yer thinking. I’s just too danged fat!’
‘Come on then, get them off and get yourself ready to go into town. Just keep your fingers crossed they’ve got something decent off the peg in your size’
‘Now?...We’s goin t’town now? Wha’bout me lunch?’ George adds plaintively.
‘By the looks of you standing there, lunch is the last thing you need!’
‘I can ave summat arterwards?’
‘We’ll see what success we have at the shop first. Did you try the jacket on as well?’
‘What were the point in that iffin the trousers dint fit?’
‘At least we’ve still got the receipt, that’s a blessing. And the bag you brought it home in. Give me those and I’ll make them look decent on the hanger. We shouldn’t have any trouble’
‘There yer go’ George holds out the trousers to her and sighs ‘I’s sorry, Jess’
‘So you should be. Thank the Lord you didnt leave it until the day to put it on!’
‘Thought I’d see wha’ it all looked like t’gether...wi’me shirt an’ ev’rythin’ he looks into the dressing table mirror, adjusts his tie and smiles proudly.
‘Hmmm, you can take that off as well before you get something down it’ Jessie burst his bubble.
‘You’ll ave me ere naked afore long’ he turns back with a grin and a wink.
‘Not something I want to experience on an empty stomach’ she wrinkles her nose. ‘This is no time for mucking about, this is serious, George’
‘Can’t I ave summat afore we go?’
‘No, you can’t. Get dressed’ Jessie snaps her reply.
‘Take em off, put em on, take em off, I don’t know iffin I’s bloomin comin a going’
‘You’re coming with me and we’re going to town. Hurry up’
‘Gawd, you dunt arf go on’
‘You’ve heard nothing yet!’ Jessie takes the suit jacket from the bag on the bed and lays it flat, folding the sides back ready to hook the trouser hanger onto the one already inside. ‘George...’ she says evenly ‘who did you see when you went in the shop?’
‘Same bloke as we see’d afore’ George pulls his tie undone and smoothes it straight.
‘And what did you say?’ she lets out a breath through her nostrils.
‘That I were there t’pick up me suit’
‘And you showed him your receipt?’
‘’course I danged well did, you think I’m daft a summat?’ George begins to lose his temper under the interrogation ‘ I gi’im that an’ said what the trousers was bein turned up, just like you says I should’
‘And what happened then?’
‘I ‘ad t’go t’back a the shop where tha’ woman what does the alt’rations is’
‘Lots of bags on her little counter was there?’
‘Fair few. Cor she weren’t arf busy!’
‘And you gave her the ticket for the alterations?’ Jessie looks at him over her glasses.
George clears his throat and looks away. ‘No...I er...forgot that un but I told er what it looked like an’ showed er me other receipt’
‘And she gave you the bag?’
‘Yeah...an’ I checked it were the right un afore I come away!’ he foresees her next question.
‘I don’t think you did, George’ she gives him another probing look.
‘I bloomin well did!’ he huffs indignantly.
‘Did you take it out of the bag?’
‘No...’ he admits, backing down ‘....but...’ he begins to make an excuse then decides against it ‘’sides wha’ diff’rence do that make?’
‘Because, George’ Jessie says, holding the hanger high ‘There is probably some poor man sitting in a doctor’s surgery somewhere worrying because he’s LOST so much weight. This isn’t your suit’
‘It int?’ He manages to look surprised, relieved, and worried about what she is going to say all at the same time.
‘Not unless you fondly believe you can fit into a thirty four inch waist’
‘I int got no fatter all of a sudden?’
‘No, George’
‘Thank the Lord fer that’ His hands slap his bare thighs and he beams with delight 'I can ave me lunch'
‘Thank the Lord for nothing!’ Jessie grumbles ‘You’re not even capable of picking up a suit on your own! What on earth am I going to do with you?’
‘Well, I got me clothes off, gal’ His grin turns to a leer.
Jessie looks him up and down and flicks her head away. ‘Get lost and get dressed’
