The Kellys of Kelvingrove Read online

  34

  Paul managed to finish his novel. Clive did some of his best painting. Their minds had begun to heal as well as their bodies. They remembered, for instance, that it was the Reverend Denby who had incited the mob to attack them. He had pointed them out.

  They even remembered his exact words. ‘An abomination in the sight of the Lord. They deserve to suffer. And suffer they must.’ And he had pointed at them and shouted, ‘There’s two of the filthy poofs. Destroy them! Stamp them out! God said man must not lie with man …’

  They told Jack Kelly about this, plus all the other ways Denby had harassed and persecuted them since they moved into Waterside Way. Jack then had the Reverend Denby arrested.

  They wished they knew who the individuals were who made up the mob which so brutally attacked them, but they didn’t. Could that mob still be a danger to them, they wondered. Their writer friends thought not, especially now that the Reverend Denby had been arrested and especially with a police officer living just a couple of doors along from them.

  Then a great, exciting event happened that chased away every ache and pain, every fear and worry. A publisher wrote to say that he was interested in seeing the finished novel.

  The day they received this word, the writers’ club was meeting at their home. The members were hardly over the door of number four when Paul yelled to them,

  ‘A publisher wants to see the finished book.’

  ‘Hurrah!’ All their writer friends danced around them in excitement and delight. ‘Congratulations, Paul.’

  ‘Yeah, but wait a minute.’ Paul’s energetic delight fizzled out. ‘Once I send it to him, he might not like it and accept it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Paul shrugged. ‘It’s one thing seeing how I’ve worked it out in the synopsis. He might not like the way I’ve written it up.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a pessimist. There’s nothing wrong with your writing. He’ll love the book. We all love it.’

  ‘You’re my best friends.’

  ‘We’re readers too. And honest readers. Now, cheer up for God’s sake. Smile.’

  One of the writers tickled him under his chin and Paul burst out laughing.

  ‘OK. OK.’

  ‘That’s the way. As one famous writer told beginners, “Be happy.” Be happy, OK?’

  Paul wasted no time in getting the finished manuscript away to the publisher. But again, because he had not yet been out on his own, it was his writer friends who packed it up and posted it.

  ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Paul. We’re really lucky,’ Clive said.

  ‘Yeah, I know. In what other profession would everyone be so genuinely delighted at a colleague’s success. And tirelessly help them to succeed.’

  ‘Of course, as they’ve often reminded us, we’d do exactly the same for them.’

  ‘That’s certainly true.’

  ‘Now, I’ll be in agony waiting to get word from the publisher.’

  ‘Let’s pray that he’ll waste no time in getting back to you.’

  That night and the next two nights, as they knelt by their beds as usual saying their prayers, they added, ‘And please, Jesus, help the publisher to make up his mind quickly and get back to us quickly to put us out of this agony of suspense.’

  35

  Bashir thought he’d find out about Gretna Green. He couldn’t mention it to Mirza or Sandra without first knowing something about it. They might not even marry people there any more. He hadn’t time to visit the place. He had good, hardworking and willing assistants in the grocery but he didn’t like to take advantage of them. He decided to go to his nearest library and have a chat with the librarians. He had always found librarians kind and helpful and he had visited a great many Glasgow libraries over the years. He had friends in every one of them and he always enjoyed a chat. People were his thing. He loved all sorts of people. None more so than Mirza and Sandra.

  He’d done his best to help Mirza and Sandra by talking to Pop and trying to persuade him to see Mirza and Sandra’s point of view. Sadly it hadn’t worked. One of the alternatives was this idea about Gretna Green.

  It turned out that there were indeed still marriage ceremonies performed there.

  Gretna Green was a village in the south of Scotland, famous for runaway weddings. It was historically the first village in Scotland following the old coaching route from London to Edinburgh. One librarian friend told him that the Quintinshill rail crash happened near Gretna Green, with 227 deaths, making it the worst rail crash in Britain. A troop train taking troops of the Royal Scots to fight in Gallipoli ran into a stationary local train. Then the wreckage of the two trains was hit by a northbound express. This saddened Bashir.

  Then his attention was caught up with the fact that Gretna’s famous runaway marriages started because of Lord Hardwicke’s Marriage Act in 1753 which said that both parties to a marriage had to be at least twenty-one years old. The Act didn’t apply in Scotland where it was possible for boys to get married at fourteen and girls at twelve years old with or without parental consent.

  Many elopers fled England and the first Scottish village they came to was Gretna Green. The local blacksmith, as the most respected tradesman in the community, became know as an ‘anvil priest’. Gretna Green was still the most popular wedding venue and now thousands of couples from all over the world came to be married ‘over the anvil’ at Gretna Green.

  The World Famous Old Blacksmith’s Shop, also called the Old Smithy, was the best-known venue. It now had three wedding rooms, each with an anvil.

  Gretna was built from scratch as a township during the First World War. It housed workers from the massive munitions factories developed in the area. Bashir thought it amazing that from something so destructive could become a happy and loving wedding centre.

  Gretna originally had the largest munitions factory in the world. A workforce of thirty-thousand people produced vast quantities of cordite, or devil’s porridge. Bashir shuddered at the idea. God alone knew how many people had been killed by this devil’s porridge.

  The first chance he got, he spoke to Clive and Paul about marriages at Gretna Green.

  Paul said, ‘When are you going to tell Mirza?’

  Bashir hesitated worriedly. ‘I was wondering if it would be either wise or safe to say anything to him just now. Maybe I’d better wait until Pop and Rasheeda leave for Pakistan. As you said, Clive, Mirza and Sandra would want to dash off to Gretna Green immediately and Pop would go after them or get someone to go after them and bring them back before they reached Gretna Green.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Paul nodded. ‘Safest to keep quiet just now. Wait until the old man’s well on his way, or has already arrived in Pakistan.’

  ‘And then …’ Bashir’s brown face lit up. ‘What joy! Just think how delighted and excited Mirza and Sandra will be. I’ll go with them and see them safely hitched.’

  ‘We could go as well. Make a real party of it,’ Clive said. ‘Couldn’t we, Paul?’

  ‘Yeah. Better watch though. In case they do something rash on their own. No way is Mirza going to risk hanging around while the old man gets a Pakistani bride for him.’

  ‘I never thought of that.’ Bashir looked worried again. ‘God, what should I do for the best.’

  ‘Maybe you could drop hints. You know, tell him there’s no need to worry. You’ve found a way to help him and Sandra. Or “Don’t worry. You and Sandra are going to be married. I’ve arranged it.” Something like that.’

  ‘OK, I’ll try that. It would be terrible if they ran away just now, or did something reckless. It would spoil everything.’

  The first chance he got, Bashir spoke to Mirza. He had seen him kiss Sandra in the front garden and prayed that no one else had seen them. Jack and Mae Kelly must have, because Mae was out at her front door greeting Jack on his return from work. But the Kellys were all right about the young people. It turned out though that Mrs Jean Gardner did see them and came rushing out to tut at
Sandra and advise her to get back into her own house at once, and she was going to report her to her mother.

  ‘I feel it is my duty, dear, to tell your mother about this. It’ll mean you’ll be grounded for a long time, dear.’

  And to everyone’s shocked surprise (and it had to be admitted – delight), Jack Kelly said, ‘I tell you what, Mrs Gardner, I won’t say anything about you having spent some time in Corntonvale Women’s Prison for embezzlement if you don’t say anything about Sandra to her mother.’

  Mrs Gardner turned a sickly shade of grey and hastily retreated back into her house.

  The others laughed and Mirza said, ‘Was that true?’

  ‘Of course,’ Jack said. ‘One of my pals took her in the police van to Corntonvale.’

  Mae Kelly said, ‘You never told me that.’

  ‘As you know, I never gossip about my work or my colleagues, Mae.’

  They suspected this was not the Gospel truth, but everyone was too intrigued and happy to bother.

  ‘Anyway,’ Bashir said to Mirza and Sandra, ‘the pair of you are OK now.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Kelly,’ Mirza said and Sandra echoed his words.

  ‘No problem. Always ready and willing to help.’

  At least that was the Gospel truth, Bashir thought. Both Jack and Mae were a real asset to the place, both always ready and willing to help. What would Doris McIvor do without Mae’s help and support, for instance? He suspected poor Doris would have gone completely off her head by now. They hadn’t a bit of prejudice against Clive and Paul either. They had always been good supportive friends to them.

  The Kellys gave them all a wave and Jack disappeared into house number one, Mae into house number two.

  Then Mirza said, ‘Yes, that’s us OK now. But for how long? Any time now, my dad’s going to Pakistan to bring back a woman to marry me off to. Or that’s what he thinks. But no way am I just going to wait here for that to happen.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Sandra said. ‘We’re off, the pair of us. Aren’t we, Mirza?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  Bashir put a finger to his lips. ‘No need. I’ve got a plan. Trust me. You and Sandra are going to be married. I’ve got it all arranged.’

  Then he winked at them.

  36

  Mahmood made Mirza stand before him. ‘Do not worry, my son. You are a clever boy and a tall, handsome boy. I will have no difficulty finding you a wife. Do you trust me to do my best for you?’

  ‘Yes, father,’ Mirza replied with lowered eyes.

  ‘Your mother is coming with me and she will help and advise me because she too wants to do her best for you. Do you believe that to be true, Mirza?’

  ‘Yes, father.’

  Once they’d returned home after seeing his father and mother off at the airport, Mirza said to Bashir, ‘I hate deceiving my father and mother.’

  Bashir said sadly, ‘What choice do you have?’

  ‘If only I could have persuaded him to accept Sandra.’

  ‘I tried, Mirza. I really did try but it only made him decide to go to Pakistan even sooner than he’d originally intended.’

  ‘I know. Thanks for trying anyway, Bashir.’

  ‘Now, cheer up. Didn’t I promise you that you’re going to marry Sandra? Didn’t I tell you that you’d be safely married to her before Pop gets back?’

  ‘Yes, and I trust you, Bashir. But now I want to know how you’re going to manage it.’

  ‘Have you never heard of Gretna Green?’

  Mirza hesitated. ‘The name vaguely rings a bell.’

  ‘You’re probably too young to know about it, but it’s a village just across the border from England and for centuries, it has married runaway couples. In England couples had to be twenty-one to be married. In Scotland anyone of sixteen years of age can be married without their parents’ consent. It used to be even younger. At first it was the local smiddy, or blacksmith, that married couples over his anvil. When we get there, you’ll see the white-washed cottage has a sign above it saying, ‘This is the World Famous Old Blacksmith’s Shop, marriage room.’

  Mirza laughed excitedly. ‘You mean we could be married there? In Gretna Green?’

  ‘Yes, definitely. But not in the old blacksmith’s shop. It’s a museum now. But the World Famous Old Blacksmith’s Shop now has three wedding rooms, each with an anvil. So you’ll still be married in the historic way, over the anvil.’

  ‘When will we go, Bashir?’

  ‘Right now. I’ve organised everything. You’ve arranged to meet Sandra, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, like you said. But wait until she hears you’ve organised everything. She’ll be over the moon.’

  At first Sandra was so flabbergasted, she was speechless. Then she jumped up and down, crying out, ‘Hurrah, hurrah!’

  ‘For pity’s sake, be quiet,’ Bashir commanded. ‘You’ll spoil everything.’

  Immediately Sandra put her hand over her mouth and was silent.

  ‘My car’s parked round at Jack Kelly’s end. He’s waiting there with Clive and Paul. Poor Clive and Paul still look the worse for the wear and haven’t yet got their strength back but they were determined to come and see that you got a good send off. We’ve booked rooms at a local hotel.’

  Sandra smoothed back her cloak of golden red hair and closed her eyes in ecstasy.

  ‘This is all so wonderful. Oh Bashir, God bless you.’

  ‘Aye, well, I don’t know if that’s likely to happen but I’m willing to take the risk.’

  Mae Kelly had done her bit by seeing that Sandra had a pretty dress ready to wear for the occasion.

  Now she told Sandra, ‘I can’t go with you to the ceremony because I can’t leave Doris for all that time. But I wish you every happiness, Sandra.’

  Then she waved them off, before hurrying back to house number two.

  Mirza and Sandra bundled into Bashir’s car and soon they were on their way. Jack Kelly followed behind with Clive and Paul in his car.

  ‘There’s lots of great stories and fascinating history about Gretna Green,’ Bashir told Mirza and Sandra as he drove along. ‘At one time, of course, marriages were sealed by both parties holding each other’s hands through a hole in a large stone.’

  ‘No!’ Mirza laughed.

  ‘Yes. In the Orkneys, it’s still known as Odin’s Stone. But there’s been even odder things happened at Gretna.’

  ‘Why Gretna, I wonder.’ Sandra said.

  ‘Well, you see, the law in Scotland hadn’t been changed and the first village over the border on the main road from London through Carlisle was Gretna Green. You could get married there right away within five minutes, and without parental consent. No problem.’

  ‘Marvellous,’ Sandra said.

  ‘So now,’ Bashir went on, ‘people come from all over the world to be married at Gretna. There’s even a barge on the waterways of Holland called Gretna after the Dutch couple who owned the barge were married there.’

  Bashir laughed. ‘Even if you didn’t have a ring, it was no problem. One anvil priest, as they were called at the time, came up with what looked like a curtain ring.’

  Bashir’s voice took on a mock solemn note. ‘Are you both unmarried persons?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Do you take this woman you hold by the right hand to be your lawful, wedded wife?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you take this man to be your lawful, wedded husband?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Before God and these witnesses, I declare you married persons and whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder.’

  Mirza raised an incredulous brow.

  ‘Was that all?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sandra said, ‘Not very romantic.’

  ‘Och, don’t worry,’ Bashir assured her. ‘Yours will be a lot better than that, believe me.’

  And they did.

  37

  Mahmood and Rasheeda arrived back from Pakistan with a beautiful Pakistani girl. S
he was modestly and suitably veiled but indoors it became obvious that she was very beautiful indeed.

  ‘There you are, Mirza,’ Mahmood announced proudly. ‘I have brought you the most beautiful girl in Pakistan. Her name is Parveen. You will be most happy married to her. We will immediately arrange the marriage ceremony and celebrations.’

  ‘That will not be possible, Father,’ Mirza said.

  ‘Of course it is possible. Why should it not be possible?’

  ‘Because I am married already. Sandra and I were married while you were in Pakistan.’

  Mahmood tottered over to a chair and collapsed down on to it.

  ‘How can that be so? It is not possible.’

  ‘I have a wedding certificate to prove it. I told you, Father, in Scotland it is the law that anyone over sixteen can be married without the consent of their parents. We were married in Gretna Green. It is where runaway marriages take place. Long ago, I told you that I wanted to marry Sandra, Father. Now she is Mrs Shafaatulla, my lawful, wedded wife.’ His voice loudened as he called, ‘Sandra.’

  Sandra entered to stand by his side, her long thick cape of red-gold hair lighting up the room.

  Bashir said then, ‘And you must admit, Pop, Sandra is exceptionally beautiful. Mirza is a lucky boy, a very lucky boy, to have such a beautiful wife.’

  At last, Mahmood found his voice. ‘You will leave this house now and for good, Mirza, and take that girl with you. I never want to see either of you again.’

  ‘Och, Pop …’ Bashir began, but Mahmood interrupted him with a yell of fury.

  ‘You would be the cause of this, you wicked man. You would arrange it all and make it happen. They could not have done it or known how to do it themselves. I would banish you as well if it was not that you are needed to run our business and without a business, we starve.’

  ‘But they have always loved one another, Pop. You’ve known that all along. Why can’t you just be happy for them?’

  ‘And what does her mother say to this? No doubt, the same as me. It is wicked to disobey your parents.’