The White Apron by Christine Eyres

Author:Christine Eyres
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roleystone Artspace
Published: 2018-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE KEEKIN’ GLASS

How daur ye ca’ me howlet-face,

Ye blear-e’ed, withered spectre?

Ye only spied the keekin’-glass,

An’ there ye saw your picture.

Robert Burns

At first, I thought I was dreaming but then I was back in the brown anteroom. William squinted at me and then at the sleeping boy, but he didn’t speak. My mind lurched – confusion, anger, disgust, relief – no words came.

‘Where have you been?’ I blurted at last.

William walked over to the window and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. When he turned to face me, his eyes full of pain, he said he’d been in the gutter.

‘I don’t expect you to forgive me. Molly’s told me what you’ve been through but for God’s sake let me take you away from this place.’

‘And where are you planning on taking us, William?’ My voice, even to my own ears, sounded harsh and cynical. But as I listened, my hopes rose. We were to go back to Bell Street. He’d talked to the landlord and paid the rent and he’d found a job with a shoemaker in Sauchihall Street. I sat back and closed my eyes feeling tears of relief escape from under my swollen eyelids. I stroked Jamey’s hair. He stirred and rubbed his eyes.

‘Da!’ he shouted and in two bounds threw himself into William’s arms. William buried his face in Jamey’s shoulder, looking up at me with a wet smile. I couldn’t smile back.

Back at Bell Street, I told William how I found the letter about his father dying. William stared out the window. And then he seemed to dredge words from the pit of his soul, telling me how he thought his father meant nothing to him. How he’d sworn that he never wanted to see him again, but when he learned he had died, it was as though he fell into a great hole, and couldn’t climb out.

‘He was your father, William,’ was all I could think of to say.

Two days later Molly dropped in while I was sorting the washing.

‘I thought I hated Bell Street until I had to get out and lose my one true friend.’ I said.

‘I would have kept in touch,’ said Molly picking up a towel and folding it.

‘I’ll never forget your kindness, Molly. I hope I can repay you one day.’ I flicked water from a bowl onto the tablecloths and rolled them up ready for ironing.’

‘I’ll be a sad day when I cannae lift a hand to help a neighbour.’

That evening I felt the tension ease from my shoulders while I sat by the fire turning the collar on one of Jamey’s shirts. I let the work drop into my lap, mesmerised by the flickering flames. William sat sewing a shoe. There was a change in him. Tears flowed when I brought out his mother’s violin and Bible. He would have known I needed the money and could have sold them.

’Do you know, Wullie, Molly has no time for the church – she’s a bit like you that way, but she’s the best Christian I’ll ever know.

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