Goodmans of Glassford Street Read online

  Benson asked her about Mr Webster and was obviously annoyed that she had dealt with him, and about the way she had dealt with him.

  ‘Why didn’t you sack him?’

  ‘Why should I have sacked him?’

  ‘Why?’ Benson rolled his eyes. ‘Because he’s caused the store so much bloody bad publicity, of course.’

  ‘I’m quite sure Mr Webster’s private life will not affect Goodmans’ sales figures one iota.’

  ‘I certainly hope you’re right.’

  ‘I know the business and what would affect it and what would not.’

  ‘Oh well,’ he sounded sarcastic, ‘that’s all right then.’

  Abi raised an eyebrow. ‘Was there anything else?’

  He turned and stormed out of the office, banging the door shut behind him.

  Abi decided it would be better not to visit the children after work. She didn’t feel like facing a glowering son-in-law again that day. She reluctantly returned to Huntershill and switched on all the lights and the television in an effort to make the place look cheerful and to give an illusion of company.

  Later she did a bit more writing.

  There is a happy land in Duke Street jail

  Where all the prisoners get their dinner in a pail.

  Oh, how they shout and yell when they hear the dinner bell,

  Then the shouts turn to dismay – It’s mince again today!

  Eventually she pushed the pen and paper aside and put on one of her CSI: Miami DVDs. She needed to hear Horatio saying, ‘No one is going to hurt you any more. Trust me.’

  27

  ‘Of course we must have decorations,’ Miss Eden said. ‘It’s Christmas. We’ll have a tree as well but just a miniature one. Just as a token.’

  She unravelled a pile of coloured paper chains.

  ‘I’ll drape them on the walls. You hold the ladder and pass them up to me. We’ll just have them in here because we spend more time in the kitchen. And maybe a couple in the hall would look nice and welcoming.’

  There were glistening gold and silver shapes as well.

  ‘The store is beautifully decorated, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mr McKay agreed. ‘I believe the staff surpassed themselves this year.’

  ‘Yes, it wasn’t just the joiners and some of the other men from the basement with their ladders. The girls in the departments did their bit. I liked the way they draped decorations along the front of the counters and around the glass cases. The place looked really cheery and Christmassy.’

  ‘Indeed. A riot of colour.’

  ‘Did you have a look in the toy department?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I thought it was lovely to see the children’s faces when they met Santa. Who was it this year, by the way?’

  ‘Mr Campbell from Men’s Underwear.’

  ‘That was a good choice. He wouldn’t need any padding.’ It was the first time since Mr McKay had become her lodger that she had seen him smile. It was only a small smile, but all the same, it was progress. He handed up some decorations.

  ‘Last year, if you remember,’ he said, ‘it was Mr Webster because he was so big. Nevertheless, he needed padding to make him look suitably rotund. This year, his image has become tarnished. Although, of course, the children will not be aware of that.’

  ‘Oh well, it’s the temptation of the job. I mean, being away from his home and his wife so much …’

  ‘I would never have been unfaithful to Jenny. Never, no matter how often we were separated.’

  ‘You were never tested, though, Mr McKay. Not like Mr

  Webster. I’m sure he loves his wife …’

  ‘I’d never, never,’ Mr McKay repeated with much feeling, ‘have been unfaithful to Jenny. No matter how often or how far away from her I had to go.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Miss Eden soothed. ‘I believe you, Mr McKay. Now how about a gold one over the fireplace?’ And in the dining alcove? As I think I told you, that used to be what was known as a hole in the wall bed. But everyone has had the beds taken out and a table and chairs put in there instead. Or at least everyone I know of.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes, and at one time there would have been a coal bunker in here, in everyone’s kitchen, and the coalman would have trudged up the stairs with a bag of coal on his back and emptied the coal into the bunker. Think of all the dust the coal would make. And in a place where people cooked and ate.’

  ‘Most unhealthy.’

  ‘Yes, I don’t think that would be allowed these days. Think of all the health and safety rules there are in the store. And the only cooking that’s done there – and very little at that – is in the canteen.’

  ‘Of course the canteen is very modern compared with the rest of the store. It had to be brought up to modern standards.’

  ‘That’s true. Now how does that look?’

  Miss Eden stood back to admire the room.

  ‘Very festive. Very festive indeed, Miss Eden.’

  ‘Now, I must ask you a favour, Mr McKay. This is one of my karate nights. I’m a member of a local karate club. I enjoy it and it keeps me fit and strong. But I don’t want to leave you in the house alone. At the same time, I don’t like missing my club. I’ve already missed more than one evening since you’ve been here.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss Eden. Of course you must go this evening and not worry about me.’

  ‘No, no. In my opinion, you’re not well enough to be left alone yet, Mr McKay. The alternative is for you to come with me. You might find it interesting to sit and watch all the members perform. You might be surprised to see what I can do. I mean, I’m not very tall, as you can see, and I’m quite slim, but I can throw a big, heavily built man, no bother.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know if I …’

  ‘Yes, you must come. If you don’t, it means that I won’t go either. Do it as a favour for me, Mr McKay. After all, I’m doing my best for you.’

  After a few moments of unhappy hesitation, Mr McKay said, ‘Very well, Miss Eden. But I cannot take part.’

  Miss Eden laughed. ‘Definitely not, Mr McKay. Don’t worry about that. You’ll get a nice cup of tea and you’ll sit well away from the action but be able to watch it while you enjoy your tea. As I say, you might find it interesting, enjoyable even.’

  And so, after the surplus decorations were tidied away and Mr McKay had carried the stepladder back to the hall cupboard, they set off for the community centre where the local karate club met.

  On the way back home, Miss Eden said, ‘Well, did you enjoy it? Or at least find it interesting, Mr McKay?’

  Mr McKay actually gave quite a big smile. ‘Oh yes, Miss Eden, both enjoyable and very interesting. Yes indeed. I never imagined you capable of …You always seemed quite delicate in a way. I mean, you’re so slim and neat and you obviously never behave like that in the store. To see you jumping around and kicking and throwing people about …’ He almost laughed. ‘Quite amazing. And so this is your hobby? This is what you do in your spare time?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been a member of the club for years. As I say, it keeps me fit and I enjoy it. You’ll come again, won’t you?’

  ‘If you wish me to.’

  ‘I definitely don’t want to leave you in the house on your own.’

  ‘Very well.’

  They’d had dinner earlier when they’d arrived home from the shop but now Miss Eden made a light supper because karate always gave her an appetite. They sat on either side of the fire enjoying scrambled eggs on a roll and a cup of tea.

  It had been agreed that Mr McKay would have his bath in the evening and she would have hers in the morning and so, after watching the news on television, Mr McKay said, ‘Let me help you with the dishes and setting the breakfast table before I have my bath.’

  ‘All right. You wash and dry the dishes and I’ll set the table.’

  It saved time in the morning if the breakfast table was set ready.

  ‘Woul
d you like a hot water bottle, Mr McKay? I’ve got two so there’s no problem and it’s a very cold night.’

  ‘Very well.’

  She filled the kettle and brought out two rubber bottles from a cupboard.

  ‘Bacon and fried egg all right for breakfast?’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’

  Miss Eden thought how pleasant it was to have company in the house. She hadn’t relished the thought of a lodger at first, especially if it meant missing her karate club, but everything was beginning to work out quite well. And of course, she had the added satisfaction of having saved Mr McKay from absolute ruin. He seemed to be on the way to recovery. She wouldn’t go as far as to trust him on his own. But so far, so good.

  Afterwards, he came through to the kitchen for the cleaning powder to clean out the bath.

  ‘I could have done that, Mr McKay.’

  ‘Certainly not. You do more than enough for me, Miss Eden. It won’t take me a minute and it’ll be ready for you in the morning.’

  They said goodnight but Miss Eden waited until she was sure Mr McKay was safely in bed before she went to her room and settled to sleep.

  In the morning, she was always glad when Mr McKay appeared obviously rested and looking a little better and more like himself every day. They had a relaxed breakfast, then cleared the table and did the dishes. She washed and Mr McKay dried. She carefully locked up as they left to cross the road and catch the train to Queen Street.

  ‘You’re very convenient for the station, Miss Eden.’

  ‘Yes, and at the Queen Street end as well. It doesn’t take long to walk from there to Glassford Street.’

  ‘No, indeed. Very convenient.’

  ‘I’ll take some time off in the middle of the day to do some shopping, if that’s all right, Mr McKay.’

  ‘Of course. Of course.’

  ‘Mainly for Christmas food. I’d like to get a hamper from Marks & Spencer’s. I like their food, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh indeed I do.’

  ‘Right. I take it you’ll enjoy the usual turkey and all the trimmings and Christmas pudding and brandy butter?’

  ‘You must let me pay for all that, Miss Eden. I insist.’

  ‘You insisted on paying far too much for your board and lodging, Mr McKay. It’s perfectly sufficient to cover the Christmas dinner.’

  ‘But really, Miss Eden, I do feel I’m imposing on your generosity.’

  ‘Nonsense. I’ll be having the meal anyway and it’ll be much more enjoyable to share it.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘Perfectly sure.’

  ‘Well, please take as much time off as you wish.’

  ‘I’ll report off and on as usual so that you know when I’m on duty. It’s always worse at this time of year. Shoplifters will be on duty all right, but don’t worry. I always catch them.’

  ‘I know, Miss Eden. You are an excellent detective.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr McKay.’

  There was definite satisfaction in both their voices.

  28

  The Merchant City area of Glasgow had to be where Abi would consider buying a flat. For one thing, it was in the Merchant City that the store was situated. It was also, in her opinion, the most interesting and historic area. There was the Cathedral, from where Bishop Beaton fled to Paris at the time of the Reformation. From the Cathedral, he rescued a number of sacred articles. They included pieces of the Cross of Christ, a casket containing some of the Virgin Mary’s hair, part of the girdle of the Virgin, and a fragment of St Bartholomew’s skin. There was also a bone of St Magdalene, milk from the Virgin, part of the manger in which Jesus was born, and fluid which seeped from the tomb of St Mungo.

  In front of the Cathedral was where they used to burn witches and heretics. Glasgow’s Witch Finder was the Reverend Cooper. He had been so efficient at catching witches and making them confess that he became known as ‘Burning Cooper’.

  It was enough to put anyone off religion, Abi thought, and she recalled the words of Robert Burns, ‘Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!’

  At the back of the Cathedral was the Necropolis (City of the Dead). It had originally been an old pleasure ground and the cemetery was designed to be a place of peace and inspiration for the local citizens.

  Across the road was the ancient house called Provand’s Lordship. Mary, Queen of Scots had stayed there, and it was believed that while she was in Provand’s Lordship she wrote the ‘Casket Letters’ which were supposed to reveal that she was having an affair with Lord Bothwell. It was also claimed that the letters implicated her in the murder of her husband, Lord Darnley.

  Just beyond Albion Street was the University of Strathclyde’s Ramshorn Theatre. Under the pavement outside the Ramshorn Graveyard were the graves of the Foulis brothers, printers to the University and founders of a school of art and design. On one side of the Cathedral was the huge Royal Infirmary. On the other side was the award-winning St Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art. It aimed to promote respect between people of different faiths or none.

  Among the many fascinating places in the area was the Trades House. Then there were the City Halls lining one side of the street called Candleriggs. Many celebrities had appeared in the City Halls, including Charles Dickens, Niccolo Paganini, Oscar Wilde and Harriet Beecher Stowe, who wrote Uncle Tom’s Cabin and who came to gain support in Glasgow for her campaign against slavery.

  Abi had no doubt whatsoever that if she was going to move, it would have to be to the Merchant City area. It was just bringing herself to actually make the move. That was the problem. She wondered how Mr Webster was getting on with his move. He had no choice, of course. He and his family would not be able to afford living in an expensive hotel indefinitely.

  She felt tempted to call at the hotel to see him, mention to him that she was thinking of moving herself, and even ask for his advice. There were various new developments in the area.

  There was also the Italian Centre with designer shops and a restaurant surrounding an interior courtyard with flats looking down on to it. The restaurant had tables outside too, with canopies protecting them from sun or rain. The outside eating arrangements weren’t used much in the winter, though. But it was altogether an attractive centre. She understood that the flats were popular with business people who came to Glasgow on business trips, but eventually would have to move on to a base in another city. So there was usually a chance of buying a flat there. And of course, with entrances on Ingram Street, it was very convenient for Glassford Street and the Goodmans store.

  Several times, she hovered around the Italian Centre, pretending to study what was in the shop windows. Once she actually went through into the courtyard and gazed up at all the flat windows. Another time, she had a cup of coffee in one of the restaurants. Then she returned to the store and her office, did some paperwork, and made a few business phone calls.

  Later, at home, she switched on all the lights, shut all the curtains, and then switched on the television. It drowned out the sound of the wind, and the trees tapping monotonously on the windows.

  She made a cup of tea and sat drinking it, and writing in her notebook.

  Vote, vote, vote for Harry Lauder,

  Vote, vote, vote for all his men.

  Then we’ll buy a penny gum,

  And we’ll shoot him up the bum,

  And we’ll never see old Harry any more.

  She looked at ‘The Jeely Piece Song’ again and penned the second verse.

  On the first day Maw flung oot a daud o’ Hovis broon,

  It cam skitin’ oot the windae an’ went up instead o’ doon.

  Now every twenty-seven ’oors it comes back intae sight,

  ’Cause ma piece went intae orbit an’ became a satellite.

  Then a repeat of the chorus:

  Oh ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty storey flat,

  Seven hundred hungry weans’ll testify tae that.

  If it’s butter, cheese or jeely
, if the breid is plain or pan,

  The odds against it reachin’ earth are ninety-nine tae wan.

  ‘The Jeely Piece Song’ always made her smile. She could remember the time in the old tenements when children would shout up to their mothers to throw them down something to eat because they were hungry. The mothers would spread a slice, or a couple of slices of bread with butter or margarine and jam, or jeely to use the Scottish word. Then they’d wrap the sandwich or ‘piece’ in newspaper and toss it from the kitchen window.

  Abi could just imagine how this would be impossible in the high-rise or tower blocks of flats. Not everyone would remember life in the old tenements, though. The song was written in such broad Scots too, she doubted if many people would understand it.

  John had said there could be a glossary at the back of the book giving a translation of any difficult Scots words. Or the translation could be in a margin at the right-hand side of each page.

  She started another, smaller, notebook with the translation of some words.

  Maw mother

  cam came

  daud lump

  oot out

  skitin’ darting through the air suddenly

  windae window

  ’oors hours

  weans children

  breid bread

  She could still hear the trees thumping and scraping against the windows. Suddenly she could see herself, as if she was outside herself, looking down on herself and the scene inside the room. It was such a picture of pathetic isolation, she suddenly burst into tears.

  The proposed book was nonsense. The television was blaring out football, something she was not in the slightest bit interested in. She moaned to herself. There was nothing to compel her attention and engage her feelings. Except her Horatio, who so compellingly, so sympathetically brought Tom back to her. She stumbled over to the television and soon he was there, just like Tom, tall and slim, tenderness, compassion, and understanding radiating from every muscle, every bone of his body.