Love & Sorrow by Jenny Telfer Chaplin Read Free Book Online Page B

wanted to see you and in any case the weather wasn’t too
bad when I set out.”
    As if on cue there was a blattering of rain against the
window.
    Anna grinned. “At least you’re home and dry for the
moment. Now then, what’s new since I last saw you?”
    Meg shrugged. “Nothing much but …” She nodded at the
very obvious bulge under Anna’s pinny. “… it looks to me as if you’ve got
something exciting that I haven’t heard about yet.”
    The rest of the afternoon was spent in pleasant
chit-chat and fond reminiscences of their tried and tested friendship dating
from the days when in trying to establish her image of respectability Meg had
joined Anna in the church flower rota.
    Battling her way against the driving rain and splashing
through the puddles on her way home Meg felt an inner glow of happiness.
    I’m so pleased for Anna, she’s going to be a mother at
last. Poor soul, I think she’d almost given up all hope of ever achieving that
dream.

 
    Next day when Jack arrived home for his mid-day meal he
flourished his morning paper. “Looks like you were lucky to get safely home
yesterday from your visit to Rutherglen. The paper’s full of it. Seems
yesterday’s rainstorms were the worst in living memory. The whole of Scotland
was affected … flooding everywhere, livestock swept away … as for Glasgow
itself–”
    Jack paused for breath and Meg said: “I know I got well
and truly soaked, but apart from that–”
    Jack smiled as his meal was placed before him. “Here,
dear, read all about it for yourself – seems that every river in Glasgow bust
its banks: the Clyde, the Cart, and the Kelvin. You were lucky to get home
safely without too much upset. Never mind, you had a good heart-to-heart
blether with Anna. I know you’ve missed her since she moved to that church
nearer her new home.”

 
    ***

 
 
 
    Chapter 17

 
    October 1903

 
    Approaching their first anniversary, Meg and Jack
appeared to all as a settled, albeit rather staid, couple. As yet there were
still no signs of any addition to their family except for a very bad- tempered
canary rejoicing in the name Pretty Boy. The bird was as spoiled as any
doted-upon, longed-for child and ruled the roost in the Dunn household. Not
only did he have his likes and dislikes but he had a positive aversion to the
sound of anything sizzling in the frying pan. Meg was cooking Jack’s ritual
Sunday morning fry-up and Pretty Boy was hopping to and fro in his version of a
childish tantrum when Jack entered the kitchen.
    “Still up to his tricks, I see,” Jack said and planted
a chaste kiss on Meg’s cheek.
    “If anyone had told me there was such a thing as a
bad-tempered canary I’d have told them to pull the other leg.”
    Jack laughed. “You’re right, dear. If ever we should
hear the patter of tiny feet, Pretty Boy’s beak would surely be out of joint.
Mad with jealousy he’d be.”
    After church, when the minister had given the pulpit
rail its weekly hammering, on their way home Jack said: “Meg, are you quite
sure you don’t want to come with me this afternoon?”
    “I’ll leave it for this week, if you don’t mind, dear.
After all, it isn’t even as if you mother knows who I am. You’ve said it
yourself – there are times when she scarcely recognises even you.”
    “That’s true enough I suppose. You know, no matter how
I wrack my brains, I’ll just never understand what brought on mother’s stroke.
I always took such good care of her. Not a worry in the world, did she have,
not a single worry.”
    Meg made no reply. Although there was plenty she could
have said to throw light on the matter, her lips were sealed.
    When the silence was growing uncomfortable Meg squeezed
Jack’s arm and said: “No, best that you go on your own today. I’ll give you
some of those wee sponge fingers to take along. Even on her bad days she always
likes them. Soft on the gums, aren’t they?”

    Having seen Jack safely off on his