Free Fortunes of the Heart by Jenny Telfer Chaplin Page B

ten
years, said: “Mammy, it isn’t the Queen herself who’s coming. It’s the Prince
and Princess of Wales. And he’s to open the Eastern Palace with a gold key.”
    At this nugget of information, Kate shook her head in
wonder.
    “A gold key, indeed. My, my, and I wonder where they get the
money for such extravagant frivolities? ‘ Twould be
more like the City Fathers to provide decent houses for its workers. But there,
’tis the way of the world. And nothing the commonality – and Irish scum at that
– can do about it.”
    Since young Daniel had no answer to this complex problem of
the hated, wild Irish in overcrowded Glasgow he instead concentrated on
finishing his bowl of porridge. That done, he asked: “Please may I leave the
table, Mammy?”
    Permission graciously given by a slight nod from Mammy’s
head, Daniel then went over to the cupboard by the sink. He bent down and,
after extracting the old tomato box of shoe cleaning materials, he got down to
business. A supply of old newspapers was also kept in the box, for quite apart
from its use as protector of Mammy’s clean linoleum, odd bits of newspapers
were used to stuff the toes of thin and shoddy footwear soaked in any one of
Glasgow’s famous downpours.
    By the time that not only his boots were mirror-image clean,
but also his unruly mop of hair had been slicked down, and even the back of his
neck washed in honour of the great Royal occasion, Daniel Robert Kinnon was a
joy to behold.
    Mammy, one hand on hip, an appraising look in her green
eyes, looked him over from top to toe.
    “Yes, Danny Boy, you’ll do. In fact, if the Prince of Wales
himself looks any more handsome ... well, I’m the one that will be fair
cheated.”
    Unused to such praise and lacking the necessary élan with
which to deal with such compliments, Danny took refuge in toeing the rag rug
with his booted foot. Kate, who had put out a loving hand with which to pat his
smooth cheek, thought the better of it. Instead, she diverted her hand to
smoothing back a stray lock of her own hair.
    ‘Yes, Danny Boy, you’re growing up. So I’d better not go
chucking you under the chin or patting you like a baby. That would never do, to
upset your manly pride.’
    Knowing all the while that she would have loved to gather
her son up in her arms, Kate ignored the compulsion and instead concentrated on
making him a special piece for his sweet bite which he always enjoyed at his
school playtime. In honour of the Royal occasion today, her own darling Danny
Boy would have, instead of the usual dripping, a taste of Granny’s lemon curd.
    As she handed over the newspaper-wrapped pack of thick bread
slices, Kate smiled fondly at her son.
    “Now, Danny, have a wonderful time at the Great Exhibition.
And your teacher’s got the money all gathered together to get your class in,
isn’t that right?”
    The boy nodded, hardly able to contain his impatience to get
going. However, polite as ever, he answered: “That’s right, Mammy. Mind, we’ve
been paying it up a farthing a week since March. Creepy Connor said it was
cheaper going with the school – tuppence each instead
of sixpence.”
    Kate smiled despite herself, but even so, she felt a mild
rebuke to be in order.
    “Danny. That’s enough of that Creepy Connor talk. No way
that to speak about your headmaster.”
    Daniel pressed his lips together then, lowering his head,
looked up at his beloved Mammy.
    “Sorry, Mammy. But you must admit he is a bit creepy the way
he sneaks about with his big Lochgelly belt in his
hand. Just fair looking for folk to punish.”
    Kate laughed.
    “Away with you, cheeky wee rascal that you are. And you’d
better hurry or you’ll get a doubler from his belt for being late.”
    At this threat to end all, Daniel was halfway out the door
before his mother stopped him with a restraining hand on his arm.
    “No need to take me at my word quite so fast, Danny. Anyway,
you’ve forgotten something.”
    He frowned and