Chapter 15

I drove home relatively slowly and carefully, so as not to disturb my bulky two-radio cargo. My route was all on country roads as we do not have a complete motorway to Greenock, and the proposed M8 route from Glasgow would be built near the Clyde, ending near Abbotsinch (the site of the former naval air station and now designated as Glasgow Airport), while a rebuilt A8 will continue to Greenock. This rebuilt section should be like a motorway but without all the bells and whistles that a motorway must have to get that designation. At least, that is the idea, but government plans with end dates tend to be amended to postpone completion of the work, supposedly to save money. It never does; it is purely a political ploy.

The fairly quiet country roads allowed me to get near home in a reasonable time, so I detoured the car to the law office and then the estate agency in Gourock to report my safe return to both my employers. Georgie greeted me at the agency with a pleased smile and a kiss, then told me that Alice was expected to join us for dinner at home tonight.

She said softly, “The way Sandy was talking yesterday, I got the impression that you and Alice are intended to get a lot closer this evening.”

“Really? What do you think of this ploy, my love?”

“Inevitable, I have to assume, unless you do not cooperate. One way or another, Alice is apparently expected to be having your baby when you get around to it; then it is a question of whether she fits in with the family, or remains a single woman living on her own. We would of course take care of the bairn, if she likes, and free her for her professional work as an accountant, as we always do. As you know, she is competent and well-educated in her field, but not so familiar with friendly interaction with the male gender. She is no teenager, but might as well be, for all she knows about the practical aspects of sex. I hope you will not be too keen on these current plans of Sandy’s.” She suddenly switched topics: “How did you get on with the SRO people?”

“Fine. They were most helpful with everything, so I let them get on with it, and sent them on their way. The thing is, once all the boxes were out, of the storeroom I found a perspex cabinet or display unit behind where the boxes had been. It seemed to have a sort of complicated electrical mechanism inside it. I have no idea what it does, but from seeing some valves as part of its construction, I reckoned it must be a radio unit of some kind. We would need some expert to examine it and tell us what it does, or what it is intended to do.”

“Some sort of physicist, you think?”

“Hey, yes; that is the sort of guy I would be thinking of, certainly. Why do you say that?”

“The reason I suggested it is that one of our more recent clients at the agency is a physics professor from Glasgow University, looking to retire to Gourock and the sea air, due to ill-health. He claims he has had breathing difficulties. Glasgow is so smoky still, despite the old mills closing down.”

I chuckled, “I know what you mean. As a lad I used to climb the Whin Hill behind Greenock, and for most times of the year you could see the town below, completely enveloped on a calm day by a layer of smoke from all the chimneys belching it out. It was only during the Fair Fortnight trade holidays when factories shut down, that the town cleared up and you could see the river in all its glory.”

Georgie continued, “Well, a physicist ought to know about radio technology; that is what I thought.”

“And it is a good idea, my darling. If you can find me a phone number for him, I’ll ask him if he minds having a look at our acquired mechanism, to determine what it actually can do, or is intended to do. I’d like to know if it is some valuable contraption, or just an interesting model to admire, like that old radio set.”

I decided that the most convenient place for him to view it was at the estate agency, so I persuaded Georgie to put it on her display table that normally housed an antique for sale. She agreed and we moved the ancient urn to the back room temporarily. It then took the two of us to unload the radio device from the car and carry it complete to the display table and centre it there to distribute the weight evenly. It wasn’t actually extremely heavy, but being bulky it was unweildy to move

Georgie snorted at the condition of the perspex when she looked it over. “You could have cleaned it before bringing it here, Bob!” As I reflected on the error of my way, she went to the back office to collect a duster and a polish container and then applied that to the perspex top and sides. The interior was protected from dust so it was fine.

“That looks better!” she declared as she finished with a final wipe and flourish, and I had to agree. It looked almost like new.

As Georgie had her own car for business purposes, I left to drive myself home, saying I would see her when she got back to the house. I arrived early enough that I was first home from work, so went straight to the nursery to greet my children with “Daddy’s home!” The babies gurgled happily at being lifted and cuddled, one after the other. These youngsters seem to recognise my hands and arms, and settle into them at once. It is a great feeling for me too.

They were not all with Naomi, as the oldest had migrated to the upper lounge, watching children’s programmes on the large TV there. Being four years old or thereby, they were becoming fairly independent around the house; just not old enough to be allowed outside without adult supervision. The increasing number of motor vehicles in use was making the streets less safe, and our grass area went right to the edge of the pavement, so quite close to the road surface with its traffic dangers. This made me think I should get a fence built round the property, with a gateway for our cars to get in and out. But it is still a nuisance to have to open and close the gate every time a car goes in or out.

Naomi gave me a rundown on the others; which ones were hale and hearty, which ones had a touch of the runs, and which were very sleepy after a disturbed night. I gave them each a hug and kiss, and a few words to let them know they were loved, then went upstairs to bother the older ones the same way, annoying them by interrupting their TV watching. They did appreciate being told they were loved by Daddy, even if they hoped I would quickly go away and let them get back to the programme. At my glance at the TV it looked like what was on was Andy Pandy, a puppet series which I remembered watching when we got our first television set at my parents’ flat. Presumably the BBC had repeated the series for a new generation of children.

My ladies drifted in one or two at a time, tired after a busy day at work. I tried to be at the door to greet each of them with a hug and kiss, and mostly managed, though once I had to rush and caught Carol as she was hanging up her coat. I grabbed her from behind, placing my hands on her breasts, squeezed and said, “Guess who!” She declared, “I know these hands ... now who could it be? Possibly my husband?” I released my hands, then she turned and grabbed my face in both hands and thoroughly kissed me while pressing up close, our forthcoming baby bump between us. I was happy; Carol was happy. That was all that mattered at this time.

I applied this desired outcome to all my wives: aim for them and me to be happy everywhere. This can be at home among the family, or at work for an employer, or operating a business. Each of these has an impact on individuals, and getting the right impact is part of this objective. Where a business of ours is temporarily rocky, I am happy to invest more cash into it to tide them over. Sandy’s financial acumen assists well with this aim. Where there is a dubious relationship with an employer, we can support our family member in either pushing the employer to improve their practices, or financially and legally supporting her in challenging the employer in court. Financial clout counts for a lot in business and in legal argument. Family matters are more personal, but can usually be solved through family discussion and mediation, but mostly through lots of hugs and kisses; and some fondling as well, which often leads to a more intimate interaction.

I seem to have matured and mellowed in the last few years, despite being only twenty-two. I think Sandy and my other wives have had a lot to do with that. I have learned to cope with life’s hazards and take the advice of my wives on many matters on which they had more expertise or knowledge than I did. Every person has their own expertise, whether they are aware of it or not. Children know how to give love, for example.

Then after dinner the doorbell rang. We don’t get many visitors apart from relatives, so strangers get short shrift as a rule. Georgie volunteered herself as the door challenger this time, but shortly afterwards she was back with the Rev McAllister, our Church of Scotland minister in Gourock.

He was quick to speak. “Ladies and gentleman, if it is possible, could I have a private word with Bob and Sandy?” He added, “If there is a private room where we could have our discussion, that might be best? I don’t want to disturb you other ladies.” Politeness gets you everywhere, I recognised.

Sandy at once said, “The upper lounge would be best, I think. Georgie, are any of the children up there, watching TV?” “I’ll check, and turf them out if they are in there,” she told Sandy. “If so, I’ll chase them to a smaller TV set. Give me a minute or two to find out, and I’ll give you a shout.”

She vanished upstairs, and Sandy said to the minister, “I think you know most of the ladies, minister. Of the rest, Jenny and her mother, Patricia, are here for dinner, and Alice over there is a work colleague of mine, also invited for dinner.” Everyone made their hellos, as did the minister, then Georgie was back. “All clear, folks. The lounge is ready for you now.”

We withdrew to the hallway and up the stairs, then along to the upper lounge, where we seated ourselves in the comfy chairs. I started the conversation. “Well, Minister, what can we do for you? We haven’t seen you at our house for a while. What have we done to merit this call?”

Mr McAllister cleared his throat before saying, “I have good news and bad news. They are all the one, though. I have been offered a new charge, in Paisley. It is a larger congregation and a better resourced one, too.” He rushed to explain himself, “This has nothing to do with your valuable contributions to this congregation. It is simply that over a long period of time, well-to-do merchants in Paisley have set up trusts to support the ministry there, and therefore the congregation is not under pressure to provide extra funds, unlike here. The larger membership roll is also a plus for me as a minister of the Gospel.”

“Then congratulations are in order, Mr McAllister!” I told him. “You have been an excellent minister for this parish, and it will be difficult to find a suitable replacement for Gourock.” “Thank you, Mr McIntyre. Your support of the parish church has also been admirable, both your social and financial involvement. It is the question of replacement that concerns me.”

“Oh?” Sandy brought herself into the discussion. “How would that be?”

Mr. McAllister paused before continuing, “I am aware of your ... unconventional ... family structure in this household. As only you two are married in the eyes of the law, that is not in question. It is the presence of the other ladies that might cause a new minister some mental anguish. I find you to be a good Christian family, and have not had any bother with your activities, and the congregation have similarly been accepting of you all. The same may not apply to whoever is invited to take on this parish ministry.”

I was ready for this question, and responded, “But the Bible has plenty of precedents for our family structure, Minister. Rachel and Leah as wives of Jacob was a case in point.”

“True, Bob, but that was in the context of Mesopotamian law that permitted more than one wife, as long as the bride price was paid.”

“Then how about King David, who seems to have had half a dozen wives?” I challenged.

“Traditions of the time, I am afraid. Kings were expected to accept another king’s daughter as a wife, as part of a diplomatic settlement or peace deal; a political decision on his part. That could lead to a number of wives, nothing to do with a previous loving preparation. It was purely a diplomatic essential of the time. Marital law changes depending on time and place, so we act according to the here and now.”

I declared, “But we are adhering strictly to UK civil law, minister. Sandy is my legal wife, full stop. That is it! As far as the others are concerned, legally they have no formal relationship to either of us. To the Church, they might be viewed as concubines, but in the Roman Church before the Reformation, it was not uncommon for priests to effectively have wives and children, despite their official commitment to celibacy. The Roman Catholic church authorities in Rome viewed these women as concubines; sometimes demanding they be banished if the instance was reported to the them, but otherwise such liaisons were largely ignored, for even prelates were having children by their concubines.”

“But not in our own Scottish Church since the Reformation, Mister McIntyre! You argue well for such a young man, Bob. In other circumstances, Sandy might ask for a divorce through you having children by another woman, but I have never observed Sandy taking that extreme standpoint.”

“Correct, Mr McAllister,” Sandy said. “Almost all of these ladies were rescued from problems with men or abusive families, and their arrival in our family is with their complete consent, as any of them would gladly confirm. I was in full agreement with their arrival within our family, and the results from that. In fact, they all have much better lives as a result of joining our household. Georgie runs a group of estate agencies which we own as a family; Carol runs a chain of beauty shops for her employer; Phyllis has her own antiques market now, part-financed by us; and the others are gainfully employed in jobs that suit their talents. Tell me what God would object to, please. I see no evil in what we have done for them. If there is no evil, what is the sin?”

“My opinion exactly, Mr. McIntyre. If God sees you as a good family, who am I to say otherwise? Unfortunately, not all ministers see it that way. A new minister for Gourock might be more critical of your household.”

“Ah. I think I see what you are getting at, minister. Perhaps it might be wise to have the new minister apprised of the charge’s financial circumstances, in advance of his sppointment. Will you be able to speak quietly to whoever might be being considered for the charge? Or have your Session Clerk do the same?”

He shrugged diplomatically,”That is a possibility, certainly. I cannot commit myself to anything at this juncture.”

I saw how this was going, and enlarged on my opinion, “I was thinking that if the prospective minister knew that should he raise objections to our household’s structure, we would naturally be forced to immediately remove our household from his congregation, and our financial support would naturally also be cancelled, making his charge less viable and his job less secure. If he does not approve of us, we don’t have to approve of him, you see. We could simply move ourselves to another congregation, perhaps one in Greenock; it is not far by motor car these days.”

Mr McAllister’s face split with a wide smile, and he responded, “That would make a large hole in the congregational budget, I would say. The session would not be pleased to see a large chunk of their income suddenly disappear through a unasked-for personal opinion of the minister. They might suggest a revision of his opinion to take account of present realities.”

“I thought you would see it that way, Mr McAllister. Perhaps if you advised your Session Clerk of the situation beforehand, he could have a gentle chat in private with the prospect and apprise him of the facts of life as regards the viability of a local congregation.”

McAllister cringed a little at this reminder that a church, particularly the building, costs a lot of money to maintain in usable condition. He grudgingly agreed with my sentiment. “Costs of keeping a large building in good condition never seem to go down, Bob. They only go up, and usually at a faster rate than church giving increases. If your average tradesman gets an annual increase of two per cent, but church repair costs go up by five per cent, his church contributions are not likely to keep going up by that value. Maintenance is a continual drain on resources. Life can be hard for us all.”

I told him, “I have been happy to pass on some of my inheritance towards the work of the church, and in particular this congregation, minister. I will be sad to see you move on to greater things, but I wish you well in your endeavours, for you are a good advert for the church as an honorable institution.” He almost purred at this fulsome praise, but said nothing more.

We returned downstairs and joined the others. Reverend McAllister offered his apologies to the ladies for taking us away, and said that he saw that we were a very nice family group. He asked if he might offer a benediction before leaving, and when no-one objected, uttered his prayer, with his hand upraised, asking for God to bless this house and all those within it. Silence followed, and before he left he thanked both of us for our Christian friendship and support to him in his ministry. Support? I thought about it, and realised we had not caused him any problems with the congregation; indeed we had been careful to speak only encouraging words about him to others. Thus by our minimal action, we had supported his parochial duties. Sometimes, saying nothing can be as encouraging as speaking out.

Come to think of it, the word clerical, to mean a writing task, comes from the occupation of a priest, minister, or other religious man, a cleric. In medieval times few people could write, and almost all of those were priests, so most letters were written on behalf of kings and nobles by a priest, or any clerical man; and so the word was transformed in the language to our present meaning.

His visit seemed to put a dampener on our usual frivolities of an evening, and there were no sexual innuendos in our conversation tonight. Then to top it all, Alice took me aside to tell me that she felt uncomfortable about doing anything sexual with me this evening, so please could I put it off? Being the long-suffering husband that my ladies have made me (in my opinion), I of course agreed to the proposal with an appreciative smile, and told her she still had a bed for the night, either alone or in company.

“You always know how to make a girl pleased with you, Bob!” she informed me. I shrugged, telling her, “I am just being me.” That got me a kiss of thanks, but on the cheek, so as not to suggest something more.

When I reported in at the law office next morning, Daddy Thompson wanted a full run-down of the events with the Scottish Record Office people, so I went over it all in detail, for he was on the hunt for anything legally amiss. He nodded as the story proceeded, then gave me his sign of satisfaction that I had not messed up anything from a legal standpoint.

He did ask about the equipment housed in the perspex box, so I explained that Georgie had a client who was a physicist, and she would ask him to look at it and give his opinion as to its function. “Georgie, huh?” he said with surprise. “Yes, sir. She is a clever woman with all sorts of good ideas, and an excellent entrepreneur to boot. I listen to her a lot. I have been fortunate to know and love both your daughters so well.”

“So I believe. Love is evident, and ‘know’ in the Biblical sense as well...” I retorted, “That is the only way to beget children, as you know, sir; your lovely and much loved grandchildren that Georgie sorely wanted to have...” I tailed off with that reminder, and he subsided with nothing further to say, for he was torn between his delight at his grandchildren and his own upbringing from forty years ago, that said our lifestyle was wrong. He was having to live with it.