The House on Rosebank Lane Read online

  Crisis point came when Marigold was fourteen. Her mother’s then partner was Johnny Stuart, a roughneck seaman. His desire did not end with Trudy, however, and Marigold was soon frightened of this man and felt threatened by his presence.

  It was true that Trudy was not the best of mothers, and when her partners had physically chastised Marigold, who could be truculent, she had turned a blind eye. But this was another matter.

  Marigold, therefore, found herself being awakened at three in the morning, with her mother urging her to get dressed so they could make their escape.

  The following year they moved to six different addresses in Edinburgh, always keeping one step ahead of Johnny Stuart. As bad luck would have it, Johnny did track them down. Trudy’s reward for trying to protect Marigold was a severe beating. Even as she was losing consciousness she implored Marigold to run – to escape.

  Marigold should have put distance between herself and Johnny, but she loved her mother. Her devotion was such that she could not leave her mum to suffer any further physical abuse.

  But in throwing herself over her mother in an effort to protect her, Marigold gave Johnny his opportunity. When dawn broke, a badly injured Trudy was rocking her distraught child in her arms. They remained huddled close to each other until they were able to make their escape.

  From that time on, Trudy was unable to work and Marigold cared for her. She worked at any jobs she could get. By the time Marigold was eighteen Trudy was bedridden and the only way Marigold could care and provide for her was by selling herself.

  This was not an easy course for Marigold, but one she knew she had to take. She asked around and, on hearing about Stella, she approached her.

  Stella had a dilemma about Marigold. Her rule was that her girls had to be at least twenty and had chosen their path for themselves. Marigold was too young, but the position she found herself in was such that she needed to provide for her beloved mother. Taking these factors into consideration Stella acquiesced and allowed Marigold to become a ‘renter’.

  Stella was the only one who knew Marigold’s secrets. Up until now, five years down the line, she had worked for Stella and Stella alone. Never did she tell anyone about herself or her mother. Indeed, no one knew that she cared and provided for her bedridden mother. As to Trudy, she believed what Marigold told her: that she worked as a night-duty nurse.

  THIRTEEN

  1967

  Another two years galloped past for Kirsten. Bea, who was always hoping her darling daddy would come back into her life, moved on to Broughton Secondary School. Jane, who also yearned for her daddy, was preparing to follow Jane to Broughton the following year. Dixie, to Kirsten’s delight, was moving upwards and onwards at Lorne Street Primary. Truth was, he had settled well. He had even found the first love of his life at school: Rosie, a bubbly lassie of similar age to himself. What was also dandy was that Rosie thought Dixie was just wonderful. Real inseparable pals, they became.

  Kirsten, for the children’s sake, always stayed in contact with her mother-in-law, Granny Jessie. Jessie would, from time to time, read them a letter she supposedly got from their dad. Always, she claimed, he was saying he was missing his children and that someday soon he would be coming home from Canada.

  When Jessie read from the letter, Kirsten would just look up to the ceiling and roll her eyes. She knew that Duncan had not only deserted her and the children but also rarely contacted his mother.

  It was time again for the children to see their granny and after the letter reading Jessie asked the girls if they would run to the shops for her. Seemed Jessie was requiring a loaf of bread and a packet of biscuits.

  Kirsten was taken aback. She had just been in the kitchen and Jessie had sufficient bread and biscuits. So, what was afoot?

  The door had just closed on the girls when Jessie signalled to Kirsten to come and sit closer to her. Kirsten thought she was about to impart some dreadful news about Duncan. However, she was bowled over when Jessie suggested in their secret tête-à-tête that, as Bea and Jane were getting to an age where they were able to work things out for themselves, it was time for Kirsten to get a decent job.

  ‘Decent job?’ Kirsten said with a huff.

  ‘Aye. And I’ve thought of the perfect one for you.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Come into the money lending business with me. From the start it will be on a full partnership basis.’

  Kirsten gaped.

  ‘Nae need to look surprised. You’re hearing right . . . a full partner you will be.’

  Kirsten pondered. It could be argued that the money lending trade was a good deal more respectable than Stella’s community service. But was it really acceptable? And why was Jessie being so generous as to offer her a partnership?

  ‘Jessie,’ she drawled, ‘I’m no’ daft. What’s the catch here?’

  Jessie humped her shoulders, shook her head and snorted.

  ‘So, my thinking’s right. Your offer to me has something to do with you wanting something for your son.’

  ‘Okay, Kirsten, I did get a letter two days ago. He’s asking me, no’ begging, to persuade you to let him divorce you.’

  ‘Him divorce me!’ Anger mounted within Kirsten. She was about to scream when she inhaled and mellowed her tone. ‘On what grounds?’ she asked.

  ‘Desertion!’

  Kirsten’s husky, unrestrained laughter echoed around the room. When it abated, she stammered a lie: ‘Tell him he’s too late. I’ve already started proceedings against him. Oh aye, Jessie, I just cannot wait to be rid of him.’

  ‘That’s just great.’

  ‘You think so. Well, Jessie, my three bairns are your grandchildren. And at first, because I thought it important to keep a link with you and their dad, I came here.’ Kirsten stopped, as if choked with emotion. She swallowed hard before continuing. ‘And I’ve kept coming here because in the past you and I have not quite met eye to eye. So I thought for the children’s sake we should build bridges.’ She sniffed and brushed her hand under her nose. ‘I now realise what a deluded fool I’ve been.’

  Jessie seemed to get flustered. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Loyalty, Jessie, and friendship, is what I have given you. Did you appreciate them . . . no, you blinking well didn’t.’ Kirsten, now consumed by rage, spluttered, ‘I came in here today to let you see your grandchildren and have a natter with you. And my reward . . . you try to buy me off with a share out of your mucky business. And all because you want me to allow your son to divorce me! You actually wish me to give him the means to make that trollop Nessie Souter respectable!’

  ‘Naw, naw, Kirsten, you’ve got it all wrong. Nessie Souter came home last year. I mean, what else could the lassie do? Try and understand, Kirsten, my Duncan had dumped her for a native Canadian. A Cree, I think she is.’

  ‘He’s going to marry a Cree woman? Pull my other leg.’ Kirsten felt helpless with shock.

  ‘Yes.’ Jessie nodded. ‘Turns out he has found himself at last and he likes the lassie.’ She paused. ‘Look, do you want to read his letter? It’s behind the clock.’

  Kirsten’s reply was an emphatic, ‘No!’

  ‘Look, Kirsten, dinnae get shirty with me. I’m only the messenger.’

  ‘And the message?’

  ‘Well, I think he must have told the lassie the break-up of your marriage was all down to you.’

  Kirsten’s eyes bulged.

  ‘So, it would suit him if he divorced you.’

  ‘No chance. Besides, as I have already said, I have started proceedings.’

  ‘That’s fine by me. So now let’s get back to us. You’re wrong about me trying to buy Duncan a divorce.’

  ‘I am?’

  ‘Yes. You see, Kirsten, our Bea and Jane . . . Look, they’re getting to an age when they are beginning to understand.’

  ‘Do you think that I don’t know that?’ Kirsten butted in, eyes blazing. ‘After all I’m the one who has kept telling them that Daddy will be coming
home soon . . . Now, I will have to tell them that callous swine is staying put.’

  ‘Before you fire yourself into space again, let me finish. There is no one who will ever convince me that you are on the game. I know you’re not. But with you being all palsy-walsy with that Stella dame . . . Well, there’s some that are saying . . . Come on now, Kirsten, you didnae need me to spell it out what the gossip is. Do you want our lassies standing in the school playground being taunted?’

  Kirsten’s face fired.

  ‘So that’s why I thought that if I was to offer you a job with me. On an equal basis, that is. Can’t you see how that would solve the problem for the girls and give you back some respectability?’

  Before Kirsten could reply that if she really wished to get herself into high regard money lending wasn’t the job for her, the girls, along with Dixie, returned. Immediately Jessie became the doting granny again and pulled Dixie on to her lap.

  *

  Kirsten had tossed and turned all night. Jessie, she conceded, was a rough diamond, but there was no doubt she loved her grandchildren and wanted the best for them. It was also true she was not a diplomat, but she had spoken the truth. Yes, it was time for Kirsten to move on. Get a job in a ‘respectable’ establishment.

  ‘Mummy, Mummy, I am going to be late for school. Can I just go down with Jane?’ Dixie, who was looking expectantly from the window, hollered up to his mum.

  Kirsten smiled. Dixie was always pleased when it was Monday morning. He liked school for various reasons. First, he was clever, so class work was easy for him. Second, he liked socialising, especially with Rosie and his special pal, Mark. And third, he liked kicking a football about the playground.

  Donning her coat, Kirsten said, ‘No, maybe next year you can go over to school by yourself.’ She then ruffled his hair because she didn’t wish to remind him that he was, in her opinion and nobody else’s, still delicate and had to be specially nurtured. Opening the door, they then set off for school, where Kirsten would safely see Dixie into the playground before she turned and made her way down to Stella’s. Stella’s – where this morning she would have to tell her boss that she would be leaving her employ.

  *

  When Kirsten arrived at Castle View, Mrs Baxter was scrubbing the front doorstep.

  ‘Nice morning, Kirsten,’ Mrs Baxter said. ‘Catch up with your gossip at the tea break.’

  Stella was in the lounge and Kirsten decided to be brave and say what she intended to say.

  ‘Stella,’ she began ‘things are coming to a head and I need to –’

  ‘Oh, Kirsten, please do not say that you are going to leave me. I depend on you so. We, that is, Marigold, you and me . . .’

  Stella stopped as Mrs Baxter hollered, ‘That’s the mail, Kirsten.’

  Stella smiled. ‘And of course Mrs Baxter. I depend so much on the three of you. Couldn’t imagine what I would do without you.’

  Resolve started to wane. Kirsten realised this possibly was not the day to hand in her notice. But it was the day to ask for time off.

  ‘No, of course I’m not thinking of leaving you,’ Kirsten lied, before adding, ‘Stella, you see today I have to go and consult a solicitor, and I cannot delay it.’

  ‘Whatever for? Is someone threatening you?’

  ‘You could say that. You see I have just found out that my husband wishes to sue me for a divorce, citing my unreasonable behaviour.’

  ‘He what?’

  ‘Stella, I still have my pride. I now have to beat him to it and sue him on the grounds of desertion and failure to pay maintenance.’

  ‘That is exactly what you should do. So go right now, and if you have time come back and let me know how you get on.’ More to herself she said, ‘Men are such selfish individuals. Just walk off and leave you to paddle the canoe as best you can.’

  And, as Kirsten left for her solicitor’s appointment, Stella started to recall.

  FOURTEEN

  Stella’s Story

  Life in the colonial service was so good for the wives of diplomats. Endless dances, tea parties and games of mah-jong. When it came to mah-jong, Stella excelled. But then she would, as it called for skill, calculation and strategy. These attributes Stella, although young in years, had in abundance.

  Stella had just finished at her Swiss finishing school when she had been bowled over by Robert Wise. Rob, who was ten years Stella’s senior, was tall, fair and handsome. Stella was immediately enchanted by his charm. Being full of joy and devilment added to his attraction. Within a year they were married. By the time the Second World War broke out Stella was the mother of two sons – Jamie and Lewis, who were five and four respectively. Luckily, she and Rob were home visiting her parents when the Japanese invaded Malaysia and the family therefore spent the war years in the safety of her parents’ home in Edinburgh.

  Rob, of course, was called up. Naturally, being a Brylcreem boy, he elected to join the Royal Air Force, even though he was judged to be too old to be trained as a pilot. However, he did enjoy being part of the ground control staff and acquired many new skills. Unfortunately, one of these skills, unknown to Stella, was gambling.

  The gambling was not a worry when he was sitting in the mess just playing cards for a couple of bob. His addiction became a problem when they went back to Malaysia in 1947. Unknown to Stella, he started to gamble away most of his earnings. Then, probably because he was desperate to pay the boys’ boarding school fees back in Edinburgh, he began to put his hand in the till.

  The boys were now eighteen and seventeen, ready for university. Stella was delighted to learn from their school reports that both appeared to be doing well enough to be accepted at Edinburgh University. It was while she was still smiling at her sons’ reports that she began to think that the social life in Kuala Lumpur was not what it used to be and perhaps she should spend more time at home in Scotland. She had missed her boys when they had gone off to school together and she knew she could not buy the years back. Willingly, and perhaps selfishly, she had given their entire development over to their teachers. She now thought that was a mistake. Perhaps it was not too late to build a relationship with them, if she became part of their university years.

  The ringing of the telephone broke into her thoughts. Elated at the thought of spending more time in Edinburgh with her boys, and indeed her mother, as her father had passed on just a few months ago, she lifted the receiver and jauntily said, ‘Stella Wise.’

  ‘Stella.’ It was the unmistakeable voice of Crystal Parker. She allowed a long sigh to escape her lips – time hung in the balance – before eventually continuing. ‘Look, Stella, you and I have known each other for donkeys years, so we both know I am not a fair-weather friend.’ Stella had to stifle a giggle. Crystal was well named, in that she was all sparkle and not much depth. Unaware of Stella’s opinion, Crystal continued. ‘So, you know when I say if there is anything I can do to assist you until you get back home you just have to ask.’

  Stella’s mirth now changed to concern, but before she could ask Crystal what she meant the doorbell rang. Knowing that the servants were in the back of the house, Stella said, ‘Look, there is someone at the door. Could you hold on, Crystal?’

  When Stella yanked open the door she was faced with an errand boy who handed over a letter. Gazing down at the handwriting on the envelope, she realised it was from her husband. But why on earth was he writing to her? Had she not arranged to meet up with him at the club for dinner?

  Deciding first things first, she must say goodbye to Crystal before she read the letter, she picked up the telephone receiver and said, ‘Sorry about that, Crystal. It is just a letter. Now, you were saying.’

  ‘Stella, I just wish you to know that it was not me that crossed out your name on our invitation list, it was my George. Believe me, I think it is a disgrace that you have been shunned for something your husband has done. Now, do you have your fare home?’

  Without another word passing between the two women, Stella hung
up. Ripping open the letter, she discovered it started with ‘My Darling Stella’ – as she read on, she knew it should have read ‘Dear John’ because that was exactly what this letter was.

  According to the letter, he had been foolish – foolish! Funds were missing – more than he said he was responsible for, but as he was the last man to be treasurer he freed all others. Stella knew Rob, and she was in no doubt that he was responsible for the shortfall. He had admitted his guilt and he was now completely disgraced and on his way to the airport. He regretted that there were insufficient funds in the bank for her to get home, but he knew that her mother would send on the where-for-all.

  Flopping down, she realised the powers that be would have purchased his ticket home. They would not wish the stink he created in their ‘superior’ ranks to linger a minute more than necessary.

  Stella tried to calm her mind. She had to think. Luckily her father, who was never wowed by Rob, had decided to purchase a flat in Goldenacre as a wedding present for her. Dad, of course, had bought the property solely in Stella’s name. So at least she would have a roof over her head. Problem was that her mother, who found Castle View too large to reside in alone, was now dwelling in the Goldenacre flat. Castle View was rented out to an Eastern European gentleman. Not to worry, there was enough room for two ladies at Goldenacre until the rental of Castle View expired and they could go back to their family home.

  Sitting down at her writing desk, Stella lifted her pen. Tears stung her eyes. Emotion choked. Begging, she would have to do, not only for her fare home but the fees for the boys’ school as well. Thank goodness she was an only child, and her mother would not allow her or her children to be affected by the disgrace of Rob’s downfall.