Capital Union, A Read Online Free

‘Hear, hear,’ and Jeff shouted, ‘Free Douglas.’
    Mr MacGilvray raised a hand for silence like a school-teacher , and continued speaking. ‘With regard to the election of office bearers, we will take a moment of calm reflection to consider who might best represent us as Chairman in the coming term. Let us bear in mind that large numbers of the Party are already serving courageously in the armed forces. Now, before we consider such weighty matters, the first item on the agenda is the report by Dr John Ranald in his capacity as editor of the
Scots Independent
.’
    There was a jeer at the back of the room and then someone booed.
    ‘Order,’ shouted MacGilvray.
    ‘Why are they booing?’ I asked Jeff.
    ‘Because he published an article some felt was a bit critical of Douglas’ stand.’
    ‘Order,’ shouted MacGilvray, and he banged the table with his gavel again. The noise hurt my ears. It felt like this could go on all day. I took a pencil from my handbag and doodled a plan for my chicken coop on the back of an old envelope. Jeff sighed but I ignored him. The hands on the clock behind the platform moved on a whole hour before they stopped bickering and passed Dr Ranald’s report. After a cup of tea, and a quick trip to the powder room, which had very fantoosh mirrors , I had to take my seat again. Jeff whispered, ‘This will be exciting now. You are about to witness a revolution.’
    I decided to write my shopping list later. There was just enough room for it beside my drawing.
    In a very grand voice, the Vice-Chairman, Mr Macleod, invited William Strang and Douglas to leave the room, and their proposers and seconders to speak. Douglas winked as he passed us, and it was like being noticed by a fairy-tale giant. I could see the people seated across the aisle through his legs. The angry man called MacGilvray stood up to speak for old Mr Strang. MacGilvray had nice, wavy, brown hair. Several people booed him, but it didn’t put him off. I wouldn’t have known what to do.
    ‘I regret to see that so many people, who have done so little for the Party, are so vociferous against Mr Strang, one of its most established members and committed stalwarts,’ he said.
    There was more booing.
    Mr Macleod shouted, ‘Silence, all members have a right to speak.’ But it was lost in the racket. Mr MacGilvray took a sip of water and said both he and Mr Strang believed it was important to work for Scottish home rule. There was a cheer this time, and he added, ‘We must work with friendly elements in other parties. I have already spoken to Tom Johnston, Churchill’s Secretary of State for Scotland, and he might consider adding it to their agenda.’
    The jeering started again. Someone shouted, ‘Away and boil yer heid.’
    I stood up to leave, but Jeff put his hand on my arm and pushed me back down into my chair. It was the feeling I had of being trapped in the cinema, but he didn’t understand.
    ‘Why can’t I go?’ I asked.
    ‘Because this is important; Douglas’ proposer is next.’
    ‘I don’t care,’ I said. ‘I want to go home.’ But the next man had begun to speak and it would have been embarrassing to stand up. He went on about Douglas’ court appeal, while I kept my eyes fixed on the door at the back of the stage and wished I could run through it. ‘Douglas will never allow the red tape of the Union to strangle our rights as a sovereign nation. We say “no” to conscription,’ he shouted.
    There was cheering and booing. Everyone looked round to see who was doing what, and a wee man wi’ a ba’ heid jumped up and tried to shoosh them. The proposer raised his voice. ‘Douglas may not fight abroad, but he will fight at home to ensure that our returning servicemen do not suffer the unemployment they endured at the end of the last war. He will see that we do not lose our industries to the South. He will champion full employment and independence.’
    I was thinking of the farm, and the green hills where I