The serial: Annie MacPherson Day 37

Reluctantly, Agnes rose. “You’re a good man, Billy Dawson,” she said, “but if you see that daughter of yours, tell her from me, I’ll never forgive her for the harm she’s done to Joe... never.”

Billy was taken aback by the vehemence of her words. What was Agnes trying to imply? Surely, Nancy would never have encouraged such attention?

Billy lowered himself into the chair Agnes had vacated and looked around him. The ward was quiet at this time of the evening, apart from a few moans and coughs from the other patients and the nurses going about their duties.

“How’s he been?” Billy asked one of them as she passed Joe’s bed.

The woman shook her head. “It’s in the hands of the Lord, now,” she said softly, “if he’s lucky, he’ll just sleep away.”

Billy took Joe’s ice cold hand in his. “Good God, man, how did you end up like this?” he murmured, his mind going back to his first encounter with the handsome Irishman at Baxters Mill where Joe was a tenter and all the women fancied him, including Annie.

Gaunt face

Is this what love does to you, he wondered. Love so strong that all common sense flies out of the window. His thoughts turned to Annie again and to Mary who came to him pregnant with his child and whom he’d married.

What would life have been like if he and Annie...? He shook his head, not wishing to think of what might have been.

He had Josie now and three beautiful daughters and Annie, well, she had Euan and Ian and Lexie from her marriage to Alex Melville. Yes, too much water under the bridge and now there was no going back.

Without warning, Joe eyes suddenly opened. “Mary,” he cried, “Is it you?”

A wide grin lit up his gaunt face and a light filled his eyes. “I’m coming,” he whispered. “Wait for me.” Then as quickly as it came, the smile faded and the light left Joe’s eyes.

Billy tightened his grip on his hand as the nurse hurried over to her patient. She lifted his eyelid and felt for his pulse.

“He’s gone,” she said softly, releasing Billy’s grip from Joe’s hand. “He’s at peace now.”

“I hope so,” Billy murmured, stunned at the speed of Joe’s passing. “He’s gone to be with Mary again,” he added hoarsely, searching for understanding in the nurse’s eyes. “She came for him.”

The nurse looked at him kindly. “Perhaps you should go home now Mr Dawson, there’s no more you can do for him. We’ll deal with things now.”

Billy’s footsteps again led to Annie’s door. Euan answered his knock.

“It’s Joe,” said Billy, “he died tonight.” A despairing look came into his eyes. “And all for love,” he added, sadly. “All for love.”

Billy shook his head. “Take care of Annie,” he said, “she loved Joe once but I ruined it for her and now, it’s all too late.”

Without another word, Billy started back down the stairs, turning left into Albert Street and Princes Street before finally climbing the steepness of Dens Brae.

Pain

The hospital would have sent word of Joe’s death to Agnes as his next of kin but Charlie would still be unaware that his brother had passed.

A flicker of light showed through the weave of the curtains covering the small kitchen window and, knowing what news he would be bringing, Billy hesitated before knocking gently on the window pane. Within seconds the curtains parted and the white face of Charlie Cassiday froze before him.

The door was unlocked and Billy let himself into the hovel.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” muttered Charlie, hardly able to speak the words.

Billy’s eyes couldn’t hold the pain he saw before him. “I was with him,” Billy said, trying to soften the blow, “so he didn’t die alone.”

“Does Agnes know?” Charlie asked, his rheumy eyes brimming with tears.

“I think the hospital will have told her, Charlie but if you like I’ll make sure.”

Charlie shook his head. “She’s a good woman, Billy and neither Joe, nor that daughter of yours, should have treated her so badly, so I’ll see to her needs, not you.”

Billy flinched. Did Charlie really believe that Joe was an innocent in all this? But, now wasn’t the time for recriminations, the man needed help.

“I’ll call round tomorrow Charlie, do what I can to make sure Joe gets a decent burial.”

To take help from Billy Dawson stuck in Charlie’s throat but poverty decided the issue. “Thank you,” he said, his voice steadying. “He didn’t deserve a pauper’s grave.”

True to his word, Billy paid for everything. The Mass was held at St Patrick’s with just Charlie, Agnes and the three boys, Billy and Josie and Annie and Euan attending.

Agnes wouldn’t allow Nancy anywhere near but as the hearse turned into the Eastern Cemetery, Billy could see his daughter and Billy Donnelly among the crowd that had gathered at the cemetery gates.

Unstoppable

Billy and Annie recognised workers from Baxter’s who had known Joe when he worked there as a tenter. Dockers from the harbour, their hooks hanging from their belts, flanked the crowd and men from Joe’s old regiment, The Black Watch, stood, bonnets in hand, as the coffin passed.

But Agnes only had eyes for Nancy. She had been nursing her anger for months, long before Joe had died and the sight of her hanging on to the arm of Billy Donnelly was the last straw.

Charlie saw the look in her eye and knew her mind was not steady. “Not here,” he whispered, “not at Joe’s funeral.” But Agnes leapt out of the hearse. “If not here,” she spat, “then where?”

With a speed that belied her years, Agnes crossed the gravel path towards Nancy. The crowd parted for her, not understanding what was happening but knowing she was unstoppable and in a split second, the knife she had hidden in her shawl, flashed before Nancy’s eyes.

“It should be you being buried,” she screamed, “not Joe!” as she tried to plunge the knife into Nancy’s chest.

(More tomorrow)

Is this what love does to you, he wondered. Love so strong that all common sense flies out of the window. His thoughts turned to Annie again