Espresso Tales - Alexander Hanchett Smith [61]
Lighthouses, but I was never invited. That’s the problem with Edinburgh: to be a member of anything really worthwhile and important – such as the Royal Company of Archers or the Northern Lighthouse Board (not to mention the Knights of the Thistle!) – one has to be invited. Why can one not apply? I ask. Of course they would get all sorts of applications from undesirables, but these could be weeded out by the civil servants who, in my experience, have a pretty good idea of who’s desirable and who isn’t!
“There was also the Gardyloo, of course. That was the vessel that took the sewage sludge out from Edinburgh and dumped it in the Firth. It went out every day and came back a few hours later, somewhat lighter. Once, many years later – in the late nineteen-seventies, I think it was, we were back down walking at Cramond and we saw this ship. Betty pointed it out to me and asked me one day what I thought that strange boat was carrying. I replied that I thought that it brought in gravel from a quarry down near North Berwick. I knew that this was not true, but I could not tell her what was really going on. That is the only occasion on which I lied to Betty, and I later admitted it to her. She said that I had done the right thing, as it would undoubtedly have spoiled the romance of our walk if she had known what the real business of the Gardyloo was.
“Our romance blossomed, as I knew it would, and eventually Betty invited me to accompany her to Broughty Ferry, where her parents lived. We agreed to motor up there on a Sunday, have lunch with them and then travel back in time for dinner.
“I shall never forget that first meeting with Betty’s parents. It was daunting for any young man, of course, to have to meet the parents of his intended, and I felt pretty nervous as we went up to the front door of their house. Betty must have sensed my nervousness, because she patted me on the forearm and assured me that I was bound to like them. ‘Everybody likes them,’ she said. ‘They are very kind people.’
“And she was absolutely right. They made me feel immediately at home and seemed to know all about me and my career. 126 The Ramsey Dunbarton Story: Part 2 – Courting Days Her father said that he liked lawyers and that he would have become a lawyer himself if he had not been required to take over the family business. This was a marmalade factory in Dundee – a business which his own father had set up on his return from Calcutta, where he had been an agent for a cousin’s jute firm.
“After lunch, the ladies withdrew and left Betty’s father and me in the dining room. We had talked about all sorts of things over the meal, but now the conversation seemed to dry up. I looked out of the window, hoping to see something on which I could pass comment, but there was nothing unusual to be seen. It was a large garden, full of rhododendra, but I could not think of anything to say about rhododendra. So I remained silent.
“Eventually, Betty’s father spoke. He looked at me for a moment, as if assessing me, and then he said: ‘What are your views on marmalade?’
“At first I was not sure how to reply. I liked marmalade, but I was not sure whether that was the nature of the question I had been asked.
“He must have sensed my confusion, as he fairly quickly explained his question. ‘What I mean,’ he said, ‘is this. Do you think that you could work in the marmalade business? That is, if anybody were to offer you a post in such a business.’
“I had not been prepared for this question. It seemed to me that he was sounding me out