Yet again her face was awash with tears. She sat sobbing silently as she remembered the past

Alfred leapt to his feet . “So where would that leave me? Without a job? And me with another bairn on the way? “Why did you not tell him he could not do that, Annie?” “Alfred, I tried, believe me I tried, but as you know my husband is – was – a stubborn man, and he simply would not listen.”

Alfred sat shaking his head in disbelief.

She waited then said: “I hope to speak to lawyers soon and shall petition on your behalf.

“I feel sure I can resolve this matter. If you could perhaps visit me at home one day?”

“Any time, Annie, any time you say I will be there. Whatever you think you can do.

“I can’t lose my job with the new house, the bairns. “And Bettie would kill me, she’s got all these airs and graces now and...”

Ann pulled on her kid gloves and stood up. “Meet me at the gate of my house on Monday, at nine in the morning.

“I should prefer if this was kept between ourselves, my servants need not know.”

“All right, Annie. I’ll be there.”

She swept off down the stairs and back into the clamour of Dundee’s jute.

Wide eyes

“Are you sure you want to go this way?”

“Yes, just drop me over there and wait, driver. Again, I shall only be some half an hour.”

Ann climbed the steps towards the house, inhaling the pipe smoke as she went. She rapped on the door.

It opened slowly and the same girl, Elspet, stood there, peering up at her with wide eyes.

“Is Mattie in?”

“Aye, come in, she’s been expecting you.” “Expecting me?” She had made no arrangement. Ann walked towards the fireplace where Blind Mattie sat, pipe in hand.

“Come away in.” She turned towards the girl. “Is it the same lady?”

“Aye, just like you said, Auntie Mattie. But today she’s wearing all black. Like a raven.”

Mattie patted the seat beside her. “Draw near. You have things to tell me.”

Ann swept off some grime from the only other chair in the room and sat.

She looked at Mattie, this woman she had known all her life, and felt a pang of emotion.

Ann had no family, no connection with anything; only this woman knew everything about her origins, her childhood. She stretched forward to take Mattie”s hand.

“How are you today, Mattie?”

“Doing away, same as last time. Why have you come here again?”

Ann paused as she thought about what she had planned to say.

But there was something about speaking to Mattie that made all words futile.

“I’ve got a problem,” she said, staring into Mattie’s dead eyes.

“Aye, I ken that. That’s why you’ve come back.” She put down her pipe and turned to face Ann.

She patted her hands around Ann’s lap till she located her other hand. “What do you want from me, Annie Robertson?”

Ann’s shoulders slumped. No one had called her that for years. Alfred Johnston calling her Annie had unsettled her, but now this.

“Mattie, you and I have known each other forever. My mother said that when I was born, you were there to help the midwife and then assist my mother after.”

Mattie chuckled. “Midwife. Assist. You never talked like that then, Annie. We called the midwife the howdie wifie, you ken that.”

Ann nodded.

“And yes, I gave your Ma a hand, but she did the most of it herself. Well, she had to do most things herself, with that drunken father of yours.”

Ann sighed.

Urgent

“So are you happy in your new life, all that money and the big house and the new clothes? Never worrying about putting food on the table?”

Ann removed the handkerchief from her pocket and sniffed. “Yes, I am. I have a wonderful family and I...”

“But if your husband’s dead, how do you plan to keep the bairns in the only way they know?”

Ann sat up straight. “Well, yes, but what if he wasn’t dead but had come back to steal my bairns?

“My precious children. What would I do then, Mattie?” Ann’s voice was urgent.

Mattie picked up her pipe and took a long, slow suck. Elspet scampered towards the meagre fire and thrust in the poker. A brief flicker of red lit the embers.

“Annie, it’s good you’ve come to me if you are in trouble, but I cannot tell you what to do. You must be guided by your own judgment.

“But if your bairns, your own flesh and blood, are in danger, then you must act quick, so he cannot do anything.”

She put down the pipe again and lifted both of Ann’s hands in hers. “Here, let me see what you are feeling.”

She repeated what she had done before with Ann, rubbing her hands up and down, as if by stroking them rhythmically she could enter her soul.

Ann eventually withdrew her hands and sat back with a thump. “It’s no good, I can do nothing. How can I, a feeble woman, challenge a strong man?”

Mattie lifted her pipe and took another long draw. “Elspet, fetch the tin box from the mantelpiece.”

The girl brushed past Ann and lifted down a tattered old box from above the fire, handing it to Mattie. She put in her hand and patted around till she felt what she was looking for.

“Here, take this, Annie Robertson. It’s been with me for some 40 years now but I don’t need it any more.

“You can use it to protect yourself from any harm. Here.” She stretched out her hand and placed something in Ann’s.

Community

Ann looked down.

“I cannot take this from you, Mattie. It’s yours. You’ve had it for ever.”

“Take it, it will serve you well.” She gestured to the girl. “Now, shall I play for you?”

“Thank you, Mattie, just one song,” said Ann, watching as Elspet handed her aunt the melodeon.

Ann gazed into the dying fire as Blind Mattie played another song from her childhood. Yet again her face was awash with tears.

She sat sobbing silently as she remembered the past. Yes, her childhood had been hard, tough, but there must have been good times too.

People looked out for each other, there was a real sense of community, though no affection.

That was why she hugged and kissed her children always.

What would her children remember of their childhood? The luxury, the fine clothes, good food, yes... but hopefully also the love of their mother.

The unconditional love that she had given her children all their lives. She was determined. She would never let them go.

More tomorrow.

Sue Lawrence is a popular novelist as well as a cookery book author. The Night He Left is published by Freight. Down to the Sea, her first historical mystery, was published by Contraband in 2019. Sue’s latest book, The Unreliable Death of Lady Grange, was published in March by Saraband.