Free The Sunday Girls by Maureen Reynolds Page B

seemingly so like my own.
    I was alarmed. ‘What does she want me for?’
    Hattie screwed up her face. ‘I don’t know, do I? She gave me this lovely little frock for Lily.’ She held up a lovely confection of a dress, all ribbons, rosettes and frills but far too small for our bouncing baby.
    Granny looked doubtful. ‘It’ll not fit her, Hattie. We’ve told you before that Lily is far bigger than Joy.’ She sounded as if my sister was some gigantic wrestler. She held the frothy garment in her gnarled, callused hands. ‘Still it’s really bonny and maybe I can let it out a bit.’
    Hattie turned a haughty eye on Grandad. ‘Another thing – I’m not pushing Lily in that monstrosity.’ She pointed to his pride and joy.
    ‘What? Not take the pram?’ He was affronted. ‘Lily loves her pram and she’ll cry if she doesn’t get her hurl in it.’ He retreated to his chair in the corner and sat down with his back to Hattie.
    ‘Well, that may be so but she’s not going in it with me,’ said Hattie, a steely determined note in her voice, ‘even if it means that I have to carry her.’
    She turned to me. ‘Now, Ann, make sure your hands and face are washed. Oh and make extra sure that there’s no dirt under your fingernails. I always think that looks common.’
    Up till this point, Granny had stayed silent but now she was highly annoyed at Hattie and set about her in a fierce voice. ‘Now you look here, Hattie. You come marching in here with your commands and your dos and don’ts – well, let me remind you that we keep a clean house here and Ann’s hands, nails and face are aye spotless.’ She stormed over to the sink. ‘We maybe live in the Overgate and not the Perth Road but we’re no’ tinks.’
    Grandad nodded in approval as Hattie’s cheeks burned bright red but she had the grace to apologise. ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she stuttered before dashing out through the door.
    I thought that, if she had a tail, it would have slunk between her legs as she departed. Granny, as usual, had brought her down to earth with a bump.
    Meanwhile Grandad was still smarting from the slur on his pram. He muttered darkly, ‘I’m beginning to think that Bella is maybe right about that lassie being a snob.’ He added quickly, ‘Mind you I would never tell her that.’ We all knew that he never saw eye to eye with Bella.
    By two o’clock the following day, we were ready and waiting for Hattie, both of us scrubbed to within an inch of our life and wearing our best clothes. Mainly because I wasn’t given any handouts from the Pringle family, I was wearing a white blouse, a dark woollen skirt and a cardigan in a rotten shade of olive green. I felt frumpish in this and I knew I resembled some middle-aged matron because the cardigan had come from Alice next door who, unfortunately, was my size.
    But, if I looked terrible, at least Lily resembled a pink cherub in her frothy frock. Granny had managed to let out the seams and the only thing that wouldn’t fasten was the tiny pearl button at the neck. Lily had almost choked when we tried to fasten it.
    Granny warned me, ‘Now never mind Hattie – mind and leave the neck open, Ann. Hattie is not to touch it and just never heed her if she starts moaning about it hanging open. She would sooner let the baby choke than show herself up in front of the Pringles.’
    I promised, hoping and praying that the visit would be a short one. I just knew I would look out of place amongst a load of toffs. The only saving feature in the entire fiasco was the fact that Danny would be there as well. He always went to see his relations in Lochee every Sunday but he was coming along later in the afternoon – hopefully in time to rescue me.
    Before leaving, I asked Granny what Mrs Pringle and Maddie were like but she just shook her head.
    ‘No idea, Ann. I just saw Mr Pringle at your mum’s funeral but I’ve never met any of the family. Still, to listen to Hattie, you would think