Chapter Eleven

“Mammy ... There’s a man at the door asking for you.”

Mary Blair wiped her hands on a tea towel and came to her front door.

“Oh” Hello Tom,” she said as the butcher stood in her doorway.

“I just thought I’d look in and see if you were alright today Mrs. Blair.”

Mary was pleasantly surprised.

“That’s very kind of you Tom but please call me Mary.”

Tom Carey shuffled where he stood and pulled at his cap which he held nervously in his hands.

“Thank you Mary Are you feeling better?”

“Och Aye! It was only just a wee bad spell that took me, Tom. I’m fine now.”

Mary looked at Tom with concern. She was thinking how no man had ever treated her with such consideration since her husband had passed away and she never attributed any great beauty or quality to her character. In fact, she had always regarded herself as rather a plain woman and so quite naturally, she wondered what the attraction could be ... nevertheless, out of politeness, she invited Tom into her house.

“Would you like to come in and have a wee cup of tea, Tom? Meggie is just about to make some and you’d be very welcome.”

Tom stepped into the small lobby and wiped his feet most carefully on the door mat.

“Thank you Mary Oh! Mary, I’ve brought you a wee joint for your Sunday dinner.” He produced a parcel from a plastic bag he was carrying, “For you and your family, of course,” he added nervously.

Mary thanked him and Meggie made the tea after which she joined her mother and their guest. Tom told them that his wife had died five years previously and that they never had any children. His business was small, but thriving and he was obviously proud of his achievements as City butcher. The shop took up most of his time and that pleased him also, since it stopped him thinking or dwelling on the past. Meggie watched Tom carefully and with great curiosity, but she concealed it well, making remarks about anything and everything that came into her head. She knew nothing about the price of beef, but she discussed it with so much detail that Tom was impressed and told her she’d make a good butcher even if she was a woman. Meggie laughed. She was beginning to like Tom Carey and he left after he had his tea and they had thanked him again for his kindness. He assured them the pleasure was entirely his and that he would like to bring another wee parcel to them again soon, but Mary pooh-poohed the idea, kindly.

“There’s no need to do that Tom. If you have time and you find yourself at a loose end, you can always call and see us again .well anytime, actually, but don’t bring anything. It really isn’t necessary.”

He smiled his appreciation and bid them good-bye.

***

Meggie grinned when Tom had left the house.

“I think he fancies you, Mammy,” she said and Mary flustered and dusted with great agitation with her feather duster.

“Oh! Don’t be so silly Meggie. The man is just being kind, that’s all.”

“Well, I still think he fancies you and what was all that about Come again soon Tom and don’t bother to bring anything Tom and about him being at a loose end when he practically told you he lived in that shop of his. Mammy, I think you fancy him too. Do you?”

Mary stopped doing her chores and looked at her daughter cautiously.

“I’m an old woman, Meggie Who would want to look at me and besides, you young people are full of romance ... You are all dreamers, that’s what you are.”

Meggie grinned saucily and took the feather duster from Mary’s hand.

“Sit down then, you old woman and rest your old legs you poor old soul. Anyway, Tom Carey is not what you’d call a spring chicken himself, is he ... and besides Mammy,” Meggie flicked the feathers in the as as she spoke..

“Besides what ... Meggie ...”

“I like him. I think he’s nice and I liked the way he was lookin’ at you.”

“Meggie Blair ... behave yourself ... You don’t know how it was with your father and me ... I could never put anyone in his place NEVER.”

Meggie collected the tea cups and nibbled at a biscuit.

“But Mammy, it wouldn’t be wrong,” she mumbled, “You’re still very attractive for an old woman, that is . . . and ...”

Mary stood up and grabbed the duster from her daughter.

“Meggie, if you say another word on that subject, so help me I’ll ... I’ll skelp ye, that’s what I’ll do. Do ye hear me young lady?”

“But, Mammy ...”

“But nothing Meggie . . . Now leave it please.”

***

Charlie called for Rachael every evening and they were happy together. She would walk past the site every day, just to look at him. She could see him stripped to the waist and admire his gorgeous tan, whereas she couldn’t do that when they met in the evenings. All the lads on the building site would whistle madly when she came to see Charlie and he was so proud. He would be seventeen soon and Rachael was sixteen, even if she did look a lot younger and he thought it was nice to have a steady girl-friend at his age.

***

Willie accepted the situation sulkily and was always happy when Rachael came to the house for tea as he could watch her when she wasn’t looking at him and his dreams didn’t upset anyone in the family.

“You’re a corker, Rachael Harris. You are that, lassie. A real corker an’ no mistake,” he would murmur to himself each night before he went to sleep.