The Courier & Advertiser (Perth and Perthshire Edition)
The Night He Left: Episode 10
I cannot imagine the scene between mother and daughter as surely there was a young man involved
Struan disappeared out the door. “Ignore him, he comes out with some strange things these days,” said Dorothy. “You know he won’t be able to give up his pipe either.” She leant down to snip off the thread with her teeth then replaced the needle in the basket.
“But it’ll be so good for him to have Jamie around, he looked better today than I’ve seen him in weeks.”
“Good.” Fiona smiled and started to load the dishwasher.
“Mum, I was planning to get the train to Edinburgh on Tuesday, got a few things to do there. You okay to look after Jamie?”
“Of course, sweetheart, any time. That’s why I’m so glad I left the school last year.”
She shook her head. “Retirement doesn’t seem to suit your father quite as well though.”
Tuesday, December 30 1879
The doorbell rang and Jessie ran across the tiled floor. Mrs Baxter had told her they still hoped for a message to say Mr Craig was alive, that he had been detained somewhere and missed the train. “Good Morning, Jessie.”
Mrs Donaldson bustled in, handing her gloves to the maid.
“I shall keep my coat, I can’t stay. Tell Mrs Craig I have news.”
Jessie showed her into the morning room then ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
Ann rushed downstairs and into the morning room. “Is there news?”
She sat down opposite Margaret and arranged the heavy material of her gown around her.
“There are two pieces of information, one good, one not so good and . . .”
“I know about the body, Baxter told me last night.” “Ah, well, that was the bad news. The good news is that we must continue to pray for Robert’s safe return.
“This morning my housemaid went up to Perth Road first thing to collect the newspaper.” She shook her head.
“The Scotsman is full of the disaster. I suggest you do not even attempt to read it, my dear.”
“Yes and . . .” Ann urged.
“Aggie passed the end of Miller’s Wynd and saw such a commotion.
“A woman was shouting out like those common fishwives down by the harbour to anyone that would listen, that God had answered her prayers.
“Her neighbours had all gathered around, many still in night attire, as she stood clutching a piece of paper to her bosom.
“Aggie approached and asked a neighbour what had happened.
“Apparently, she’d been grieving since Sunday night and, along with many others, had been waiting at the station for news.
“She had just gone back to her home – you know those horrid tenement blocks between Perth Road and Hawkhill – to find a gentleman waiting, with a telegram.”
“What did it say?”
“She had been awaiting news of her 17-year-old daughter’s body.
“But the telegram was from the girl herself, asking her poor mother’s forgiveness as she had decided to stay overnight in Edinburgh on Sunday instead of taking the train home to Dundee.
“She was – she is – alive.”
Ann let out a long breath. “It’s so refreshing to have some good news.
“How fortunate is that woman. But surely I would have heard by now, Margaret.”
“Not necessarily. Until you have definite proof, my dear, there is always hope.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I cannot imagine the scene between mother and daughter on her return as surely there was a young man involved.
“Her mother must have been overjoyed at her return yet angry for her disobedience.”
“I would forgive Robert anything if only he walked through the door,” Ann said, turning towards the window.
Her icy blue eyes narrowed at the thought of being destitute.
“Of course you would.”
Inconvenience
She looked up at the clock. “Now, it is only 10 minutes before Baxter is due to bring the children to the house. Shall I wait and accompany them myself?”
“Oh, yes, that is kind. It is now becoming more than simply an inconvenience Miss Graham taking this week off work.”
“Yes, but Ann, my dear, you are so fortunate to have such an excellent governess.
“Our Miss Bryden is, I fear, rather too lenient with the twins.” That is because you are so strict with them, Ann thought, standing up.
“Your kind offer means I can set off earlier for the station with Baxter.
“I intend to apprehend Mr Smith and find out what is going on.”
Margaret frowned. “You know they are setting up the refreshments room as a . . .” She swallowed. “A morgue. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, I must.” Ann pushed her fingers through her long wavy tresses. She knew Margaret was looking at her, judging.
She had overheard one of Margaret’s Women’s Guild friends whispering to her that Ann Craig was coquettish.
Well, so be it, at least I don’t look dowdy, she thought, tipping her head back to shake out her loose hair.
“But first I shall go upstairs to finish my toilette. I shall send the children down presently.”
Watching Ann rush to the door, Margaret put her hand to the back of her head, clamping her fingers over her tightly braided chignon.
Exotic
Ann and Baxter approached Tay Bridge station and stopped at the edge of the crowds.
A policeman stood by the entrance, barring people from entering.
“Go and ask what is going on, Baxter. Surely they must let relatives go down into the station.”
Donald nudged his way though the crowds, tipping his hat as he pushed past any women.
Ann watched him speak to the policeman then wend his way back through the throng.
“All relatives are allowed in. Follow me, Mrs Craig.” He held an arm out at right angles as he jostled his way through the throng, so that Ann did not have to shove people aside herself.
She strode on, head held high, the exotic plumes on her hat making her a foot taller than everyone around her.
“This is the lady I told you about, sir,” Baxter said to the policeman.
The policeman pushed the heavy wooden gate behind him open.
As she passed, she heard him whisper: “Sorry for your loss.”
More tomorrow.