Free The Girl with the Creel by Doris Davidson

stepped in before Lizann could answer. ‘We’ll look after each other, for she loves me as much as I love her.’
    Lizann expected her to sneer at this, but she said, ‘Ach well, it’ll maybe work out. Now, for ony sake, sit yourself down.’
    Taking the chair the man pulled out for her, Lizann watched the woman as she filled the plates and set them down at each place, puffing with even the slight exertion of stretching across the table. Her face was bright red from the heat of the stove, and her iron-grey hair was damp and straggly. Hoping that the stew would be less offensive than the cook, Lizann was relieved to find it very palatable.
    â€˜So Willie Alec’s happy about this engagement?’ Bella Jeannie barked suddenly, a few more greasy wisps escaping from the hairpins. ‘Well so he should be, for my son’s a fine catch for ony lassie.’
    â€˜Mam!’ Peter protested, embarrassed.
    â€˜It’s true,’ she declared. ‘I aye hoped you’d pick somebody from your office, maybe, or a lassie … ach well, I’ll say no more.’
    Bowfer Tait – so nicknamed because his chronic bronchitis made him bark like a dog – spoke for the first time. ‘She’s a right bonnie lass.’ His leg brushed Lizann’s – by accident, she hoped.
    â€˜Are you going out tonight, Dad?’ Peter asked.
    â€˜I aye go to the Harbour Bar for an hour or so,’ Bowfer told Lizann, ‘but seeing you’re here …’
    â€˜Don’t stay in for me,’ she interrupted.
    â€˜No, Dad,’ Peter smiled. ‘Go out for your pint as usual.’
    â€˜One pint?’ Bella Jeannie sneered. ‘Half a dozen, more like.’
    â€˜It’s the only enjoyment I get,’ her husband complained.
    Lizann could well believe that; Bella Jeannie must wear on him. They were an ill-matched couple, the woman big in every sense of the word and the man insignificantly small and weedy. Even his sparse hair seemed to be receding to get away from her.
    When the meal was over, he stood up. ‘Well, if naebody objects, I’ll away out.’ He addressed all three of the others, but it was his wife’s permission he sought with his eyes.
    â€˜Aye, away you go!’ she ordered, and as he scuttled off, she said to Lizann, ‘He’s better boozing wi’ his cronies than sitting here snoring.’
    Lizann’s offer to help with the dishes was taken up, but little was said during the operation. When everything was washed and laid past, Bella Jeannie bundled up the tablecloth, shook it out at the back door and, with not one dirty spot to be seen on it, put it in the washing basket to be washed the next day. Then she swept the floor, remarking, ‘I like everything to be spick and span, and it’s best to clean up as you go along.’
    With this evidence of pride in her house, Lizann expected her to take off her filthy overall before she sat down, but she settled herself into her armchair oblivious of her own appearance, her eyes closing almost as soon as her huge rear end came in contact with the seat.
    Afraid to speak now, Lizann looked at Peter, who grinned. ‘That’s her till Dad comes in again, and she’s as bad as him for snoring. We’d be as well leaving her to it.’ Getting up, he went over to his mother and gave her arm a poke. ‘We’re going out for a walk, Mam, and then I’ll just take Lizann home.’
    â€˜Thank you for having me, Mrs Tait,’ Lizann murmured, deeming it best not to address her by her Christian names, although it was how she was commonly known.
    â€˜You’ll have to come back some time,’ Bella Jeannie mumbled vaguely, before her eyelids drooped again.
    â€˜I don’t think she’s pleased about the engagement,’ Lizann remarked when they were outside.
    Slipping an arm round her waist, Peter said, ‘It wasn’t that. She was