her head. ‘Yes, I think so too. And if that house does become available, I’m sure if I asked Bell to help the bell-tenters settle in, she’d do it gladly. She knows what such a lifestyle change that is. Then, the wee one’s much the same age as Shirley – they’d be company for each other and that’d be good for their confidence, especially when they start school. It’s not good for anybody to shut themselves away.’
She started the car then, as if readying for take-off, revved the engine. Above its roar she shouted, ‘The couple we’re going to visit may have different home circumstances from my bell-tenters but they’re not so different when it comes to hiding away.’ She crashed the car into gear, pushing me back in my seat, then continued in a softer voice, ‘Now I know you’re anxious about seeing folk in a health visitor capacity. This visit’ll maybe give you a chance to see that using your common sense can work fine even if you haven’t got a certificate.’ She tapped her head. ‘Using this is the key. Anyway, I’d appreciate your help with the Oggs. For a start, coping with a new face will be good for them, and your friendly one is a bonus.’
I caught my reflection in the driver’s mirror. I looked anxious, probably because the car’s indicator was showing a right, meaning we’d probably be turning left. Keeping her options open and oblivious to the squealing brakes of a car coming behind, Sister Shiach was unperturbed. She maintained a steady course in the middle of the road and continued, ‘Their baby’s three months old now. Lovely wee fellow, if slow.’ She cancelled the right-turn signal, then immediately turned into a street on the left. Her remark was casual. ‘But that’s what you’d expect of a mongol.’
The Oggs had a modern-built, smart-looking bungalow. It had such an immaculately tidy garden that the casual way my driver had parked her car in the driveway made the place look untidy.
‘Somebody’s seen us,’ I said, glimpsing a pale face peeping out from behind a curtain.
It had gone by the time Sister Shiach waved. She said, ‘That’ll be Marion. I’ve told her we’re coming. I’ve asked if her husband could be around too. I’m afraid they’re both struggling to cope with this baby and they’re wondering where they’ve gone wrong.’ She bit her lip. ‘And they won’t want their neighbours seeing us visit. Let’s catch them before they change their minds about letting us in.’
An anxious shadow was cast over Marion’s pretty doll-like face as she opened the door then, glancing around as if to check whether anybody else was around, she ushered us in. ‘Come in, quick, please! It’s such a cold day.’
Sister Shiach dawdled, making a big play of wiping her feet clean. ‘We don’t want to bring dirty feet into the house,’ she explained.
I could understand her reasoning. Waiting in the hallway I saw that all but one of the rooms leading off it had their doors open. Apart from the kitchen, they were carpeted in the same pale blue as where we stood. I presumed that the one with the closed door was the same. It must be murder to keep. I wondered what the Duthie brothers would make of something with a pile so thick they’d trip over it. No wonder Marion looked so anxious.
Rather more worrying, however, was the reason we were here. There didn’t seem to be any sign of the baby. Where could he be?
There was one with a tear running down his cheek, only he was looking out from a Boots picture hanging on a white-painted wall. And from his viewpoint in the hall, there wasn’t much to see, just a walnut sideboard standing on skinny legs.
From a quick glimpse through the open doors I saw only one bedroom. I wondered if it was the Oggs’ and if they ever slept there. Its covers looked fresh out of the packet. The other rooms were as immaculate as a showroom exhibition. Bell’s house with all its chaos felt more alive than this one with its air of
She started the car then, as if readying for take-off, revved the engine. Above its roar she shouted, ‘The couple we’re going to visit may have different home circumstances from my bell-tenters but they’re not so different when it comes to hiding away.’ She crashed the car into gear, pushing me back in my seat, then continued in a softer voice, ‘Now I know you’re anxious about seeing folk in a health visitor capacity. This visit’ll maybe give you a chance to see that using your common sense can work fine even if you haven’t got a certificate.’ She tapped her head. ‘Using this is the key. Anyway, I’d appreciate your help with the Oggs. For a start, coping with a new face will be good for them, and your friendly one is a bonus.’
I caught my reflection in the driver’s mirror. I looked anxious, probably because the car’s indicator was showing a right, meaning we’d probably be turning left. Keeping her options open and oblivious to the squealing brakes of a car coming behind, Sister Shiach was unperturbed. She maintained a steady course in the middle of the road and continued, ‘Their baby’s three months old now. Lovely wee fellow, if slow.’ She cancelled the right-turn signal, then immediately turned into a street on the left. Her remark was casual. ‘But that’s what you’d expect of a mongol.’
The Oggs had a modern-built, smart-looking bungalow. It had such an immaculately tidy garden that the casual way my driver had parked her car in the driveway made the place look untidy.
‘Somebody’s seen us,’ I said, glimpsing a pale face peeping out from behind a curtain.
It had gone by the time Sister Shiach waved. She said, ‘That’ll be Marion. I’ve told her we’re coming. I’ve asked if her husband could be around too. I’m afraid they’re both struggling to cope with this baby and they’re wondering where they’ve gone wrong.’ She bit her lip. ‘And they won’t want their neighbours seeing us visit. Let’s catch them before they change their minds about letting us in.’
An anxious shadow was cast over Marion’s pretty doll-like face as she opened the door then, glancing around as if to check whether anybody else was around, she ushered us in. ‘Come in, quick, please! It’s such a cold day.’
Sister Shiach dawdled, making a big play of wiping her feet clean. ‘We don’t want to bring dirty feet into the house,’ she explained.
I could understand her reasoning. Waiting in the hallway I saw that all but one of the rooms leading off it had their doors open. Apart from the kitchen, they were carpeted in the same pale blue as where we stood. I presumed that the one with the closed door was the same. It must be murder to keep. I wondered what the Duthie brothers would make of something with a pile so thick they’d trip over it. No wonder Marion looked so anxious.
Rather more worrying, however, was the reason we were here. There didn’t seem to be any sign of the baby. Where could he be?
There was one with a tear running down his cheek, only he was looking out from a Boots picture hanging on a white-painted wall. And from his viewpoint in the hall, there wasn’t much to see, just a walnut sideboard standing on skinny legs.
From a quick glimpse through the open doors I saw only one bedroom. I wondered if it was the Oggs’ and if they ever slept there. Its covers looked fresh out of the packet. The other rooms were as immaculate as a showroom exhibition. Bell’s house with all its chaos felt more alive than this one with its air of
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