The Serial: The Pepper Girls At War Day 50

Jim felt the panic increase as his legs turned to lead and his face drained of all colour

Annie looked at Billy. “Will you speak to Nancy?” she asked, “please?” Billy wanted more than anything to take Annie in his arms and make her world all right again, but he remained seated. “Leave everything to me,” he said grimly, “and I’ll be speaking to Mr Murphy as well,” he added. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”

Billy felt a wave of love sweep over him as he watched Annie leave his office.

There was no more to be said or done that day, but in the days to come, Billy was determined to find a way to put Annie’s mind at rest.

The confrontation with Jim Murphy was almost immediate. Billy was waiting for him in the buckie when Jim finished his shift the next day.

“Mr Dawson?” Jim said, feeling a knot of panic forming in his gut at the sight of the Works Manager obviously waiting for him. “What can I do for you?” “I have a question for you?” Billy said, evenly, “and depending on your answer, I’ll know if any further action is needed.” Confusion Jim frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand, Mr Dawson,” he squeaked, “the yardage is being produced by the weavers and...” Billy stopped him in his tracks. “It’s not about the yardage,” he said, moving towards the buckie door and leaning against it, blocking Jim’s exit.

“It’s about my daughter, Nancy,” he said, a spark of anger glinting in his eyes, “and you and your visits to her house.”

Jim felt the panic increase as his legs turned to lead and his face drained of all colour.

Now he knew why Billy Dawson was here and there was no escape.

He hung his head, fearful of what was to come. It was bad enough that Jean had thrown him out, but getting Billy Dawson on his back spelled disaster.

Billy watched the man cringe and knew the truth of it.

“Are you the father? Billy now demanded to know, “and if I find out you’re lying about any of this, I’ll kill you myself.”

Jim’s eyes were wide with fear as he raised his head, only the truth would do.

“Nancy and me did go to bed together,” he murmured, “but she says the bairn’s Billy Donnelly’s.” Billy clenched his fists. “How sure are you of this?” “Totally certain, Mr Dawson,” Jim Murphy replied, his mouth so dry he could hardly speak. “We were only together the once,” he added fearfully, “and I was careful, what with being married myself and all.”

“Pick up your cards at the office first thing tomorrow,” Billy spat, “you’re not fit to be a chargehand.” Jim almost began crying. “But, Mr Dawson,” he whined, “I’ve nowhere to live and with no money.”

Billy turned ice-cold eyes on the man. “You should have thought of that before you began prowling around my daughter like a mongrel dog.

“And, in case you didn’t get the message, you’re sacked.”

Billy’s visit to Nancy had to wait till the weekend when, once again, he knocked on her door early on Sunday morning, but this time she knew the reason for his visit.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Nancy said, letting him into the kitchen. Billy removed his bonnet and pulled up a chair. “That’s not all your expecting, I believe,” he said, waiting for his daughter to confirm what Annie had told him. Felt faint “I take it you’ve been speaking to Auntie Annie,” Nancy said, wondering just how much she’d told her father.

“I have,” said Billy “and she’s got enough to cope with without you bringing more trouble to her door.”

Nancy swung round to face him, “I’ll not be any trouble to Auntie Annie,” Nancy retorted “she understands about me and Billy and that woman from Dens Brae.”

My God, thought Billy, she’s pretending she’s the one who’s been wronged. “And does she also understand about Jim Murphy?”

“Who?” Nancy asked shakily. If her father knew about Jim Murphy, it could only have come from Lexie.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about,” Billy snapped. “The Jim Murphy who brought you home from the dancing and stayed the night.”

Nancy felt faint. “And who told you that lie?” she asked, forcing herself to calm down.

“The man’s dead now that told me, but you can be sure, he was no liar.”

Nancy’s mind was racing. She’d not only been seen by Lexie she realised, but it looked liked Euan MacPherson had also seen her and Jim Murphy that night.

Nancy knew there was no way out and burst into tears. Billy watched her as she wept. He’d seen the drama before and knew that it was how Nancy got attention and help, but not this time.

He’d been fooled by Mary’s tears when she’d turned up on his doorstep all these years ago, pregnant with Nancy and had married her, forgoing forever any chance of being with his true love, Annie.

“Who’s the father?” Billy asked coldly as Nancy quietened her wailing.

“It’s NOT Jim Murphy, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she sniffed. “Are there any others you want to name?” Billy asked, knowing this would hurt his daughter, but the question had to be asked.

“NO,” Nancy replied, her voice hoarse with shock at her father’s question. “How could ask such a thing?” she whispered, but Billy wasn’t finished.

“So, your husband is the father then?” Sympathy Nancy nodded, before trying again for Billy’s sympathy. “But you can’t ask me to stay with him, not after what he’s done!”

“I’m not asking you Nancy,” Billy said, pulling his bonnet on and standing up, “I’m telling you, so listen hard and do what you’re told for once in your life.”

Nancy’s eyes widened, in genuine fear. “You’ll write to Billy tonight and tell him about the pregnancy and when he comes home you’ll welcome him back as a wife should.”

Nancy cringed and tears began, once more, to fall. “You’re the mother of two children,” Billy continued, “soon to be three and they need a mother AND a father and that father is Billy Donnelly.”

“But... what about Gladys Kelly,” Nancy gulped, “how can you ask me to love a man who goes to a prossie every chance he gets?”

Billy’s lips tightened in anger. “Leave Billy Donnelly and Gladys Kelly to me,” he said. “By the way, Jim Murphy has been sacked from his job at Baxter’s.”

He watched as this news hit home. “No one wins when this game is played,” he said, “but I won’t see my grandchildren suffer through your lust or Billy Donnelly’s.” (More tomorrow.)