The Aul’ Man

"... Donald Linklater, Liberal, fifty-nine votes:

Marie Reid, Rate-Payers Party, one hundred and eighteen votes.

Eric Rutherford, Conservative, eighty-four votes:

And Patrick Sleanagh, Labour, one hundred and ninety-seven votes.

I hereby declare Patrick Sleanagh to be elected as the new member of Kerlaw Borough Council for the Auchentye ward."

Bob Conn, the Town Clerk and Returning Officer for the local election held that day, turned and shook Paddy’s hand.

"Congratulations Mr. Sleanagh. I hope you will have a successful tenure."

"Thank you Mr. Conn. I’ll do my best." Paddy shook hands with his defeated co-candidates and received their disappointed though well-meant congratulations. He turned to the small crowd in the High-Kirk church-hall, which was being used as the vote-counting centre.

"My friends, and voters of Kerlaw. I thank you for the trust you have put in me today. I will do my utmost to fulfil that trust. I promise you I will strive to keep every election promise made by the Labour Party. We will make this Borough one of the most enterprising and prosperous Boroughs in Scotland. I would like to thank Mr. Conn, the Town Clerk, and his assistants who conducted the election and the count in such an exemplary fashion. I would also like to thank Tom Andrews, the Labour Party Agent, who was my guide and instructor during this election campaign. Without him, I would have been lost. Thank you all."

He jumped down from the platform into the arms of Cath, who only just managed to get to him first of the Sleanagh clan.

"I’m that proud of you." She gave him a great kiss on the cheek. The others crowded round to shake his hand. Beth, as usual, was on her third handkerchief.

Two years later, in July 1935, the shoe was on the other foot, even if it was a lesser election.

"So Cath, you’re following in your big brother’s footsteps. Anything you can do, I can do better, eh?" Paddy gave her a hug.

"I wouldn’t quite put it like that, but I did win an election."

"Well done. I’m pleased for you. It’ll mean a lot of hard work though. You mark my words."

"Aye, I know, but I don’t think it’ll be on a par with being a Councillor."

"Well I think it’s every bit as important as being on the council. President of the Legion of Mary; I’m just as proud of you as I was of Paddy then."

"I knew you’d be pleased Mammy. I must confess, I’m fair pleased myself. Now for goodness sake, don’t start bubbling."

Cath searched for a handkerchief and put an arm round Beth’s shoulder.

"You’re nothing but a big baby. Here, wipe your nose. I’m away to put the kettle on."

*****

"Here’s the doctor coming now Daddy." Beth, got up from the bench in the hospital corridor. She was very protective of her father and equally concerned about the health of her mother.

"How is she Mr. Nellis?"

"She’s recovering from the anaesthetic. She’ll be awake in about a quarter of an hour or so. You’ll be able to see her then, but she’ll be very weak. I think you should only stay for a few minutes. It was a big operation. Come over to the office here."

The consultant led Beth, her father, Jimmy and sister, Meggie to a small office on the other side of the corridor.

"We found the cause of the problem Mr. Connor. She has a growth that is blocking the canal connecting the gall-bladder to the stomach. The gall cannot get through into the stomach and it’s seeping out into her blood. That’s what’s causing the jaundice."

"So, what can you do to fix it?"

"I’m afraid I have to tell you that the growth is cancerous, and that it is so large, and has spread to other parts of her abdomen, that we cannot remove it. I am afraid that your wife is dying. I would estimate that she has no more than six months to live. I managed to make a bypass to make the flow from the gall-bladder to the stomach possible again, but I’m afraid the cancer will spread throughout her abdomen. The jaundice will go away, but it will only be for a short while. I’m very sorry."

No-one spoke. The consultant stood up. He stretched out his hand to Jimmy.

Jimmy took it. "Doctor, are you sure? I mean, is there nothing that can be done? Is there not another doctor who can do something?"

"I would be giving you false hope if I told you a second opinion would serve any purpose. If you feel you would be happier with one, I can refer you to a very good surgeon in the Western Infirmary in Glasgow; Mr. Sinclair. He is recognised as the best abdominal surgeon in Scotland; possibly in the whole of Great Britain. If you like, I’ll get my secretary to send you his details."

Jimmy Connor shook the doctor’s hand.

"Thank you Mr. Nellis."

"I really am sorry." He turned to include Beth and Meggie. "Ladies."

They returned to the waiting area.

"Sit down there Daddy. I’ll get us all a cup of tea. You stay there with him." Jimmy and Meggie sat down. Beth went to the kiosk in the corner.

"Here’s a cuppa Daddy. Drink it up. We’ll be able to go and see her in a minute."

"What are we going to tell her?"

"We’re not going to tell her anything. She’s not to know the truth. I know my mammy. She’ll not can cope with knowing this. Daddy, don’t you start crying now. We’re going to have to take care of her." Beth took a handkerchief from her bag and gave it to her father.

"Daddy, you’re going to have to be strong for her; for the pair of you. She’s not got long, so we’re going to have to make sure that what time she’s got left is going to be as nice as we can possibly make it."

She took Jimmy’s hand. "Daddy, we’re all going to be there for you. Now you’ve got to be strong, - for her."

Jimmy twisted the hanky round and round his fingers. "I know lassie. But it’s going to be hard. It’s going to be awful hard."

A nurse came over.

"Mr. Connor? Your wife’s awake. You can go and see her now for a wee minute. The doctor said only one person could go in. She’s very drowsy and weak."

"Thanks nurse. If you don’t mind, I’ll go in with my father. He’s quite upset. I don’t think he should see her on his own."

"I can’t allow that. The doctor said only one."

Beth took the nurse to one side.

"Nurse, please don’t make this more difficult than it is. My father has just been told his wife has six months to live. Now please just look the other way. We are certainly not going to put any strain on my mother. Be a good lassie. Away you go. Thanks very much."

"You’ll not get me onto any bother?"

"We won’t. Away you go now. Thanks."

*****

Jimmy Connor was drunk.

"You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?"

"Beth, please. I know what I’m doing. This is a man-thing. I don’t expect you to understand. Just trust me. It’s better like this."

Cormac, Jimmy and Rory Urquart, Sophie’s husband, were sitting at the table in the back-kitchen in the house in Quay Street, where Beth’s parents had lived for the last fifty years. An almost empty bottle of Bell’s stood on the table.

"Your daddy’s more used to a drop of the stuff than you think. He always felt the need to keep it a secret from Erna. Not like me and you. You understand. Erna didn’t. Now away back through to the room and leave man’s business to the men. Please Beth, just go away and leave us alone."

They had buried her that morning. Jimmy had wept like a bairn. Erna had been loved and liked by everybody she came in contact with. Father McNabb had given a moving eulogy at the Requiem Mass. The only dry eyes in the church had been Beth’s.

Beth had broken tradition by being at the graveside. She took her place serenely among the men, beside her father, at her mother’s graveside. Maggie stood defiantly beside her in solidarity. Beth had thrown a handful of earth on the coffin with the rest of the men. The first tear had yet to fall.

It was three o’clock in the morning. It was the end of October, nearly five weeks after Erna’s death. The rain lashed at the window. Sleep would not come for either of them. He took her in his arms.

"For God’s sake woman. Cry for your mammy. Let it out. I wasn’t ashamed to greet for my mammy and daddy. It’s only healthy lassie." He kissed her forehead in the dark. "Let go sweetheart. It’s finished. You don’t have to be strong for them all any more. She’s gone."

He rocked her in his arms. "Greet wee Beth. Greet for your mammy. She’s gone and you miss her. We all miss her. She was a lovely woman."

The tears came. They started as a trickle and became a storm. He held her and stroked her hair as she grieved.

The sheets were her hankies and they were not enough.

*****

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Cath’s face was a picture of delight.

"Did they vote you on or not?"

"Of course they voted me on. What else did you expect?"

"Oh Cath, that’s really nice. I’m that pleased for you."

Cath had just returned from the General Convocation of the Legion of Mary in Edinburgh. She had attended as a diocesan delegate from Dumfries and Galloway. She had returned as a member of the National Presidium with responsibility for membership expansion.

"You can save your pleased Mammy. It’s going to mean a lot of hard work. They want me to lead a project that’s meant to attract more members into the Legion. The membership has not been growing now for five or six years. They want me to find out why it has stopped growing, and to make a plan to get more girls to join, and then to get the whole thing organised. It’s going to mean a big publicity campaign. I’m not going to have a minute to myself."

Cath passed her hankie to her mother.

*****

"... be calm, firm and united. God bless you all."

The King finished his broadcast to the nation. Britain was at war with Germany. It was Sunday 3^rd September 1939.

"Well, that’s that then. We’re going to have to do it all over again. This time I hope we do it right. When we finish with them this time, they’ll not start another war in a hurry."

"Maggie, I wish it were that simple." Cormac switched the radio off. "We brought this on ourselves. It’s been coming since the last one finished. When the Treaty of Versailles put all them reparations on Germany, it left her with nothing for herself. If we had given them something to help them get back on their economic feet, instead of strangling them, they’d not have been so ready to have another go at us."

"Daddy, don’t make excuses for them. They’re just a bunch of thugs."

"They are Maggie. You’re absolutely right. But that’s the leaders. Hitler’s a maniac all right. But he’s just the man that the big businesses have put up at the front of the parade. It’s Krupp and the rest of them that want this war.

The German folk have been led by the nose. Sure, he’s given them jobs. Any fool could have done that by re-arming. He’s filled their bellies with food. He’s filled their heads with stories about their national pride and how he’s going to give that pride back to them. It’s just what they want to hear. Our lot did the same in 1914, when they needed young men like your brothers Mack and John to join up. They’ll do it again, wait and see.

"I’m away to put the kettle on."

"Thanks Beth. I could do with a cup of tea."

"I’ll come and help."

"So will we. Come on LizAnn."

"Thanks. I’ll need some help to feed this gang."

Beth and her daughters-in-law went into the kitchen to make the tea. Almost the whole Sleanagh clan had gathered in 37 to hear the King’s broadcast.

"We’ll be getting involved again, I suppose," said John.

"We are involved. The King’s just said so."

"No, I mean us Barney; the family."

"Ah, I see what you mean."

"Da here is far too old. Sorry Aul’-man. Me and Paddy probably won’t get called up either. We’re over forty. Hugh and you; you’ll probably be getting your papers soon. Wonder what they’ll do with our Dan. He might get exempted as he’s in the Civil Service."

"Thank God the young ones are no older than they are. With any luck, it’ll be all over before they’re old enough," said Maggie who had stayed behind with the men folk. "I’ll tell you one thing. There’ll be no volunteering this time." She looked meaningfully at John.

"There won’t be, Maggie. Believe me. There won’t be."

*****

The buff-coloured envelope was waiting on the table when Hugh came home from the shop. He and Leslie had moved from Kerlaw to Irvine when the fourth Sleanagh Store had opened there in 1932. Thirteen year-old Colin was doing homework at the table.

"There’s a letter for you Daddy."

"Aye, I see it son. Thanks." Hugh lifted it and went into the kitchen where Leslie was scrambling eggs for their tea. Tears were dripping into the mixture in the bowl.

"Come on now. It had to come. We’ve known for weeks it was coming. This’ll mean that Dan and Barney’ll be getting one as well." He put his arm round her.

"I don’t think so. Dan’ll not be going because he’s in the Civil Service. They’ll keep him there." She was right. Hugh was conscripted into the HLI at Maryhill Barracks, Glasgow, in November 1939. Dan was designated as a reserved occupation and was excused from military service. He finished the war as a Director of Purchasing.

Next day, Barney Dorian got a similar buff-coloured envelope. This led to a family conference at number 37.

"There’s only one solution. Maggie, you’ll have to go into your shop with Peggy Wilson from Rodden Street to help you. I’ll be in Rodden Street myself with Ella to help me."

"Who’ll look after the children? Bernard’s only thirteen, Kate’s eleven and the twins are not even nine yet." Maggie had no interest in being a shop-girl. "Why can’t Peggy run the shop herself?"

"Maggie, use your head. Peggy’s a nice lassie, but you couldn’t trust them to keep their hands off the stock if we left them alone in the place. It’s only human nature. They’d rob us blind. We need to have family there to keep an eye on things. We’re not asking you to break your back, slaving behind the counter. Let her do the work. You’ll only have to help out if it gets a wee bit busy, do the till and make sure the stock’s kept filled up. I’ll be there as much as I can to help you out. It won’t be difficult. Believe me." John was at his most persuasive.

"Don’t you worry about the weans. Your father and I will take care of them. They can come here after school. We’ll all eat here at night anyway. That’ll be the sensible thing to do. If we have to, the children can come and stay here; during the week at any rate. We can make up the beds in the attic, the way it was when you were all weans. They’re all still up there."

"Leslie will go into our shop in Irvine. She’s in the shop regularly anyway, and knows the ropes. We’d like Colin to come and stay at number 37 as well. It’ll mean him having to change schools to St Mary’s here." Leslie nodded agreement.

"Aye, thanks Leslie. I’ll come and give you as much help as I can too."

"I’ll tell you what might be an idea that could help things a bit," Hugh went on. "I don’t know if there’s enough money for it, but buying a wee van would make it easier for Leslie to get back and forward between Irvine, the main shop and number 37 here. It would also make the deliveries to the other shops easier. In any case, the matchbox is getting far too wee for all the stuff we’re moving about these days. Maybe Leslie could take the matchbox, and we could keep the van here at the main shop."

"Well, it sounds sensible enough." Cormac looked over at John. "What do you think, John? Is there enough in the kitty to buy a van?"

"It’s been in my mind for a while now. I was thinking of getting a Morris Commercial or something like it. I was actually thinking of selling the Austin. But I think we’ll keep it like Hugh says. We’ll buy a van, and keep the Austin."

John never referred to it as the matchbox.

*****

"That will be sevenpence ha’penny Mrs. Duff."

"Here you are Maggie. Thanks very much."

"I like customers to call me Mrs. Dorian thank you."

"Just as you like ... Missus Dorian." The door closed behind her.

John came through from the back-shop.

"Maggie, we can’t afford to talk to the customers like that. You won’t see her back here again."

"We’re better off without her kind."

"I could agree with you. But we’re in business. We need customers, and we need customers that keep coming back. She’ll have family, friends and neighbours. D’you think she’ll not be telling them about how you spoke to her just then? Takings are away down. Peggy quit a couple of months ago. She was a grand wee worker. I never had a bit of bother with her.

Please try to get on with these folk. They’re just like us. We’re no better nor worse than them. I’ve been trying to get somebody to take Peggy’s place, but nobody’s come forward. I’m losing money here in Winton. If it doesn’t get better soon, I’ll have to shut up shop for good.

You’ve got four bairns and a man in the Army. If you’re not working in the shop here, what are you going to live on? None of the shops are making very much, what with the rationing and all the rest of it. Folk don’t have the money to spend. It’s not like it used to be. Times are hard for all of us, and they’re likely to get worse before they get better.

Mammy and daddy’s pension wouldn’t keep a sparrow alive. Cath’s bringing in a fair bit with her teacher’s pay. The van’s gone. We’re all tightening our belts and doing our best, but we’re struggling Maggie, we’re struggling."

Maggie pouted. John sighed. He had asked Beth to have a word with her about her attitude. Beth tried, but they had such a row that she gave up. Cath also tried as a sister-to-sister exercise, but Maggie asked her to leave, and they did not speak to each other for weeks.

"Paddy, what the hell am I going to do? The shop’s losing money; a fair old bit of money, as a matter of fact." John and Paddy were sitting in the White Hart that same evening.

"I’m going to have another pint. Are you having another Bell’s?" Both brothers reflected on the situation while the drinks were being poured. Paddy returned to the table with his beer and John’s whisky.

"John, old son, I don’t think we have much choice. Winton will drag us all down with it if we go on like this."

"I know. I know. But I can’t put Maggie out on the street."

"She must be getting something from Barney."

"Are you kidding? Leslie tells me that Hugh’s getting no more than five bob a week. By the time he buys his soap and razor-blades, a bit of ham and eggs for his breakfast in the NAAFI, and a pint of beer at night, there’s bugger all left to send to her. He still sends her what he can, but it’s not much. She’s working like a navvy too. Wish to God Maggie would do the same. Leslie’s doing better in Irvine that the main shop’s doing. D’you know that?"

"Aye. I can believe that, all right. She’s a right wee fighter that one. Hugh fell on his feet when he married her."

"We’re going to have to close it. We’ll have to do something for Maggie and the bairns though. I would put her in one of the other shops, but she would just be serving behind the counter there. She can’t suffer being in a shop even when she’s the manager. What’ll she be like if she’s just working in the place? What the hell am I going to do?"

"What if we asked her to come and stay at number 37 and be housekeeper to my mother and the Aul’-man? They’re getting on, and she’s starting to get awful tired at night. Maggie and the weans could be part of the housekeeping that the rest of us chip in for. We could chip in a bit more every week, and she and the bairns could live off that. What do you think? Mammy’s over 65 now, and the Aul’-man’s pushing 70. Having the weans there all week is fair taking it out of them at their age. I remember what it was like having two of them, and I was in my thirties. I’d hate to have five of them and me nearly seventy."

"Aye, I think that’s a great idea. But how do we tell Maggie, so that she’ll go along with it without feeling that we’re treating her like a charity case?"

"Ah well, see, that’s why you’re the boss. You’re going to have figure that one out for yourself." Paddy laughed at the thought of John convincing Maggie that she was going back up in the world, moving from shop-girl to housekeeper.

"Aye, well, thanks very much. I’ll remember this the next time you want me to help you talk LizAnn into another of your daft ideas."

John had to laugh himself. "Cheers."

*****

"Maggie, will you get me a wee glass of brandy from the cabinet in the living-room?"

"Mammy, are you all right? What’s the matter?"

"I’m fine. Just tired. Just felt a wee bit dizzy then. I’ll be grand if I sit down for a wee minute. Now don’t make a fuss. Just get me that brandy." Cormac got up from his chair and played his role in the scene they had rehearsed earlier with John and Paddy.

"Beth, what’s wrong with you? D’you want me to go and get Doctor McGrath?"

"Don’t be daft. I’m fine. Just tired out. Will somebody go and get that brandy, or do I have to go and get it myself?"

"Have you had something like this before Mammy?" Maggie wanted to know.

"No. Not at all. At least, I’ve never been dizzy before. I’m just tired."

Cormac came through with the brandy. "Here, drink that."

"I’m going up to get Doctor McGrath." Maggie went to get her coat.

"No. No need for that." Cormac stopped her, not wanting the whole thing to get out of hand. "She’ll be fine in a minute."

"I knew this would happen. I knew having the children here every day would end up being too much for the pair of you. You’re worn out. Look at the state of the pair of you." She turned to Cormac.

"John and his damned shops. Well, he can shut that damned shop of his in Winton and I’m coming to look after the house here. I’m not going to stand by and watch my mammy and my daddy working themselves into an early grave so that he can keep his damned shops open."

"Well Maggie, that’ll be up to you and your brother John. I can’t say that an extra pair of hands in the house here, wouldn’t be welcome. We’re not getting any younger. That’s a fact." He paused.

"But what’ll you live on?" he ventured eventually.

"He was in the shop last week saying that it was losing money, and he was thinking of shutting it. So he’ll be saving money by me not being in it. I hate that damned shop anyway."

The Winton shop closed at the end of the month, and Maggie happily took to looking after her parents and the extended Sleanagh brood during the week. Soon after, Maggie and the children gave up their home in Kyle Terrace and moved into number 37.

"It’ll save you paying rent and there’s tons of room here anyway."

"Aye, that’s right enough Daddy, but I don’t want us to be a bother. The whole idea is to give you and mammy some peace."

"Don’t be daft. You’ll be here to take care of everything and your mammy loves having you and the weans around the place."

*****

chapter twenty-four    top