Heaven Knows Who by Christianna Brand Read Free Book Online

Jessie’s, and was rewardedwith the crinoline wires of a petticoat which, Jessie suggested, she might be able to cut down for Sarah: the little boy had pushed them against the fire and damaged them.
    Mrs Adams ran no more errands that day, ‘unless for the house’; but Mrs M’Lachlan asked her to come again on Monday—she wanted some more parcels out of pawn.
    She went out only once again, according to Mrs Campbell, taking her baby with her. When she returned, she showed Mrs Campbell a little bonnet that she had bought for him.
    Poor Jessie!
    That evening, P.C. Campbell, all unaware of the tragedy so near at hand, was once again patrolling his beat. In the post box of the Receiving House at Sandyford Toll was a letter to his father, a ploughman, which he had recently posted. It was by the date of this letter that he later confirmed this particular evening, Saturday, July 5, as being the one on which he observed an apparently trivial incident at Sandyford Place, though whether or not this calculation was correct remains extremely doubtful.
    He had been trying the door of No. 16—in the course of his ordinary duties, to see that it was safely locked—and he noticed that the door of No. 17 had opened and two women had come out on the steps, neither of whom, he was certain, was Jessie M’Lachlan. One woman appeared to be seeing the other woman off: a rather tall, dark, thin woman, ‘a respectable servant type,’ in a light gown and a white apron with a white ‘mutch’ with long white ties over her shoulders—in other words, a servant’s cap. The other was a girl of about twenty-two as to whom P.C. Campbell is not very gallant—‘a low-set, stout woman with a red, fat face’ but ‘of a decent servant-like appearance and seemed quite sober.’ She wore a white straw bonnet with blue ribbons and a dark grey cloak. They remained on the doorstep talking for five minutes or so, in low voices, then the younger went off towards Sauchiehall Street and the other went in and closed the door. He was not aware of having ever seen either before; he certainly never saw them again.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Meanwhile on that Saturday, at 17 Sandyford Place, things had not been standing still. Mary Brown, aged sixteen, used now and again to go there and do a bit of the rough work for Jess. She was one of a family of six, her mother a widow and ‘lying in a decline.’ Mary had had instructions to come along on the Saturday morning and she was seen off by four of her family and the declining mother at twenty minutes past eight, which if she walked pretty quick would bring her to Sandyford Place at a quarter to nine. She did walk pretty quick, for she had another job to go on to afterwards; so it must have been about a quarter to when she went up to the front door steps and rang the bell.
    There was a little delay, ‘longer than a servant would have taken to answer because a servant comes quickly to the door’ and then the door was opened as far as the chain would allow and the old gentleman peered out. (We know that the chain had been released at twenty to eight, for Donald M’Quarrie, the milk-boy, had heard the rattle; so evidently the door had been refastened afterwards).
    Mr Fleming said, ‘Well?’
    â€˜I’m the girl who does the steps for Jessie,’ said Mary Brown. He opened the door, let her in, and replaced the chain.
    He had on a black coat and black trousers. The coat looked as if it had been noo ta’en oot of a kist, said Mary, not like a coat he had had on the night before: it had creases in it. It was the sort of a long-tailed coat that she had seen gentlemen wear at funerals and at church on Sundays. It was buttoned up across the front, tight up to the neck and he seemed to have on no waistcoat for his shirt showed between the bottom of the coat in front and the top of his trousers. All in all, Mary thought, he was not like a man