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The Legacy of Lochandee Page 2


  ‘Well, we are grown up now. I was 22 last May. Nick is six months older than Conan.’

  ‘I’m nearly 25. Conan was two years ahead of me and Gerry at school, so he and your Nick must be about 26.’

  ‘Nick will be 27 just before Christmas. We could both live at Glens of Lochandee. There is plenty of room for us. It’s only a few miles for him to travel to the garage. But, oh no! Nick has his pride and he is so damned independent! He and Conan have put everything they have into building up their business and Nick says he’ll not marry until he can afford to feed and clothe his wife and provide his own roof.’

  ‘What do your parents think?’

  ‘They don’t interfere, but they like Nick. They wouldn’t mind him living at Lochandee but Dad says he understands and respects Nick’s point of view.’

  ‘What about your baby brother, Bridie?’

  ‘Baby! Ewan is seven. He’ll be eight in January. All he thinks about is farming.’

  ‘Just like his big sister then?’ Fiona smiled. ‘You simply lived for your animals I remember.’

  ‘Ye-es … That’s another thing,’ Bridie said slowly. ‘I can’t bear the thought of leaving the Glens of Lochandee. I was born there. It’s my life … Aunt Alice understood how I felt. She left me her share in the farm, but since Nick’s known that, he’s been even more determined to prove himself a success in business before we marry. Sometimes I feel so torn in two.’

  ‘I know how you feel, Bridie,’ Fiona said seriously. ‘Older folks say life will sort itself out – but sometimes I wonder how it can when I feel so … so rudderless. Success and money aren’t everything …’ She shuddered. ‘It’s an awful feeling to find you’re almost completely alone in the world. I don’t feel I belong anywhere now, or to anyone. So – so, do be careful not to push your Nick too far.’

  ‘Oh, Fiona! Please don’t ever feel you are alone. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems when you’ve far more serious ones. It’s just that Nick and I had another argument last night and it’s still fresh in my mind. You must come to Glens of Lochandee. I’ll call to see you too, if I wouldn’t be intruding?’

  ‘Oh you’d never intrude, Bridie. I’d love you to come. Mum would be pleased to see you too. Her body is frail but her mind is as lively as ever, so long as we can keep the pain under control without too much medication.’

  ‘Right, that’s a date,’ Bridie promised.

  The Sinclairs’ square, two-storey house was built of red sandstone. It was set back from the road with a curving sweep of drive leading to the front door and a stable block and outhouses to the side. Bridie thought it seemed far too big for one elderly lady. As the car drew up at the garden gate Fiona saw Mrs Jackson, their neighbour, peering out of the window. She let the curtain fall and by the time Fiona had thanked Bridie for the lift and climbed out of the car the front door was open and Mrs Jackson was waiting on the steps. Even at a distance Fiona sensed her agitation. There was something wrong. Her heart was pounding as she ran up the drive.

  Chapter Two

  BRIDIE SAW TWO SMALL figures wending their way along the street as she drove through Lochandee village on her way home. Her mind had been on Fiona dashing away, barely taking time to say goodbye, but when she saw Ewan, her young brother, she realised school must be over for the day. She was even later than she had thought. She drew the car to a halt beside them.

  ‘Jump in quickly, you two, if you want a lift.’

  ‘Oh, good-ee, Bridie,’ Ewan whooped and pulled open the car door with alacrity. It was a long walk from school, up through the village and along the road to Glens of Lochandee. He was hoping to get a bicycle for his eighth birthday in January. Lucy Mason hung back. ‘Come on, Lucy, get in quick,’ Ewan urged.

  ‘Mama said I had to stay at Carol’s until she came home,’ Lucy said, ‘but I’d rather go with Ewan. He says there’s a poorly calf.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve just been to the vet’s for medicine to make Moonbeam better. Hop in then. I’m late as it is, so your mum and I will be a bit later finishing the milking tonight. I expect she’ll be glad to know you’re with Ewan.’

  Lucy scrambled eagerly into the car. The farm was like a second home to her and she needed no persuasion.

  ‘Isn’t that Carol’s two girls just ahead?’ Bridie asked.

  ‘Yes, we were going to play “house”, but I like being at the farm best.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Bridie drew the car to a halt again beside the two older children. ‘Will you tell your mum I’m taking Lucy back to Glens of Lochandee with me please, Joanne? Just say Beth may be a bit later getting home tonight.’

  Beth Mason had worked at Glens of Lochandee most of her life, starting as soon as she left school when she was 13. She had missed a few years after she married Harry Mason. They had taken over her grandfather’s cycle shop in the middle of the village and Harry had added small electrical goods and repairs. They had been doing nicely until war was declared.

  Harry had been one of the first to be called up for active service and Beth had been unable to carry on the little business without him. They had been forced to close the shop so Beth had scrubbed out the empty rooms and taken in a family of evacuees. At the time Beth and Harry had been longing for children of their own, but Beth had begun to despair of her wishes ever being fulfilled. Consequently she had welcomed Carol Williams and her two small girls. Carol’s husband was in the Navy and he had urged her to leave their home in Glasgow for the relative safety of the border village of Lochandee. Less than a year later his ship had been torpedoed and he had been lost at sea. When the war ended Carol had decided to settle in Lochandee and she now rented a house just 50 yards or so up the street from Beth and Harry. The two families had remained friends, helping each other whenever they were needed.

  There were some good things to have come out of the war and the painful separations, Bridie reflected as she listened to Ewan and Lucy chattering happily in the back of the car. They had been born within a fortnight of each other, nine months after Harry had returned to camp and Conan had left to join the RAF. Bridie had been almost 15 at the time and she remembered the comfort Ewan had brought to her parents, and even to herself, compensating a little for Conan’s absence from their close family circle.

  Lucy’s birth on a bleak February day in 1941 had seemed like a miracle, bringing inestimable joy to Beth and Harry. Bridie loved both the children in spite of the mischief they often caused.

  Beth had returned to work at Glens of Lochandee as soon as she had recovered from Lucy’s difficult birth. Farmhands were in short supply, with most of the able-bodied men fighting for their country, and all available hands were needed on the farms and in the factories. So Lucy and Ewan had grown up together and had quickly become as inseparable as twins. Their elders, with the exception of Beth, were often amused by their identical mannerisms. When comments were made about any similarity between the two children, Beth would exhibit a rare irritation.

  ‘Och, it’s just that Beth likes to think her “wee treasure” is unique,’ Ross chuckled, ‘but Lucy is just a normal wee bairn and she has just the same mischievous smile and twinkle in her eye as Ewan.’ In fact their eyes were quite similar – an unusual greenish-blue which often sparkled with laughter, and sometimes with temper. Harry claimed Lucy’s eyes were the same colour as his mother’s, and that her beauty came from Beth, but everyone knew he would have been as proud as Lucifer even if Lucy had looked like a monkey.

  Beth had spent most of her life at Glens of Lochandee and she loved the farm and the circle of kindly folks she knew so well. So she had continued working in the dairy and house, and helping with the poultry, even when the war was finished. Harry had been offered a job at the electrical repair shop in Annan and he cycled eight miles to and from work every day.

  ‘I feel a job will be more secure than trying to start up a cycle shop in a country village again,’ he explained to Bridie’s parents. ‘The war has made people restless for change. I
reckon Conan has the right idea with his ambitions for a garage and buses to take people farther afield.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Ross said gruffly. ‘Conan has never wanted to farm so I’ve just had to accept his decision.’

  ‘We’re just thankful he came home safely, and you too, Harry.’ Rachel smiled.

  ‘Not half as thankful as I am,’ Harry grinned. ‘My only ambition now is to see Lucy grow into a fine young woman and get a good job to earn her living. I’d like it fine if she could be a teacher, or something like that so I’m pleased you’ve still got work for Beth at Glens of Lochandee. We try to put a wee bit by every week, ready for her future, so we appreciate the butter and milk and bacon Beth brings home, especially with the rationing still going on for so many things.’

  As soon as Bridie drove into the yard Rachel came out to greet her.

  ‘You’ve been a long time, Bridie. Your father has started the milking with Beth. We were worried about you. Did the car have a puncture?’

  ‘No. I’ve brought the drench for the calf and I gave Ewan and Lucy a lift home from school, but I must change into my breeches and get on with the work.’

  ‘Don’t you want some tea first?’

  ‘No thanks, Mum. I met Fiona Sinclair in Lockerbie. We had tea at Wilson’s. It delayed me a bit but I’m really glad we met. I’ll tell you all the news at supper. I’d better hurry; we’ll be late as it is.’

  ‘Yes, and Nick called while you were out. He’s c –’

  ‘Nick? He called? This afternoon?’ Bridie froze, one foot on the stairs. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He didn’t say. To see you, I suppose. He was driving the lorry because he had been delivering a load of linseed cake to a farm on the other side of the glen.’

  ‘Oh.’ Bridie didn’t know whether she felt angry or disappointed.

  ‘Bridie?’ Rachel hesitated, reluctant to pry, but she recognised the expression on her daughter’s face. The set mouth, the spark in her blue eyes.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Have you quarrelled with Nick again? He – he seemed very tense. And so are you. Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No, Mum.’ Bridie turned away. She was surprised to find tears stinging her eyes. She was sorry she had missed Nick. She longed to be with him – night and day. That was the trouble. They wanted to be together so much. It was getting harder and harder to say no when Nick took her in his arms and kissed her with such passion. She felt angry. Why did he have to be so stubborn? So proud? So independent?

  ‘I invited him to supper,’ Rachel called after her. ‘He said he would come as soon as the garage closed. I expect Conan will come too. He’s always ready for a good meal these days. I don’t think they eat properly …’ Her words tailed away as she realised Bridie was no longer there. She had hurried to her room to change. Rachel frowned and bit her lip. She had believed everything would be rosy as soon as the war ended and she had her family around her again, but life was not like that.

  She turned her attention to the two children. They had brought a kitten in with them and they were rolling on the rag rug, giggling at its antics.

  ‘Hey, you two. Change into your old clothes. You must remember there are no coupons to spare to keep buying you new school clothes. Then come and have some tea before you go out to play.’

  ‘Yes, Mither.’

  ‘Aye, Mrs Maxwell.’

  The two youngsters answered cheerfully and went on playing with the kitten. Rachel sighed. How lovely to be so young and carefree. Her thoughts turned back to Bridie. She had a shrewd idea what was wrong between her daughter and Nick. They had waited long enough and Bridie was ready for marriage. She suspected Nick would welcome it too, but only when he could afford to keep a wife. The garage which he and Conan had started was making steady progress but it was slow. Every penny they made seemed to have a use before it was even in their hands. Conan had no ties and his only ambition was to make a success of his business. Rachel could understand Nick feeling frustrated. He wanted the business to be a success too, but he also wanted to have enough money in his hands to keep his wife, and probably a family. Life was never simple.

  ‘That was a big sigh.’

  Rachel spun round to face her husband. ‘I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you were at the byre, helping Beth with the milking.’

  ‘I was, but now Bridie’s back they don’t need me.’

  ‘Can we come with you to feed the calves, Dad?’ Ewan asked, looking up from the kitten.

  ‘Only when you have both changed into your old clothes and eaten your tea,’ Rachel said firmly.

  ‘Hurry up then,’ Ross chuckled. ‘I’ll wait five minutes.’ He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. The big cream Aga kept the kitchen warm but he had liked the open fire better. The shining black lead and burnished steel, the high fender with the leather-topped stools attached at the corners – they had always made him feel warm and secure. In spite of his success Ross still felt the need to belong.

  ‘There was a letter from the Brigadier’s solicitor in the post this morning,’ he said casually. Too casually, Rachel thought instantly. Over the years she had learned to recognise every little trait in Ross’s nature.

  ‘Oh …’ she said and waited.

  ‘Brigadier Jamieson died in Canada on October 12th.’

  ‘But that’s a month ago! I’m glad for him though, poor soul. At least he’ll be at peace now and out of pain.’

  ‘You’re right, of course.’ Ross nodded. It was typical of Rachel to consider the man himself rather than how his death might affect them. ‘I wonder why his daughter didn’t write to tell us sooner.’

  ‘I don’t suppose she felt up to it. Anyway she would know we couldn’t go to Canada to attend his funeral. I must write her a letter to express our sympathy.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. I can’t help wondering whether it will affect us though. The tenancy of Nether Rullion, I mean.’

  ‘Aah.’ Now she understood what was bothering Ross. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ The Brigadier had owned Nether Rullion, a farm a few miles from the Glens of Lochandee. Ross had started renting the land from the Brigadier during the war and it had enabled them to grow more corn and keep more cattle and sheep. ‘I suppose it will belong to his daughter now?’

  ‘I expect so. Maybe we’ll just go on paying the rent through the solicitor as we have done since the Brigadier went to live with her in Canada. There was no mention of changes in the letter. We shall just have to wait and hope for the best.’

  ‘Dad, Dad, is Moonbeam going to die?’ Ewan called, bounding down the stairs with as much noise as a baby elephant. Lucy followed hard on his heels.

  ‘I don’t know yet, son. We’re going to give her the medicine Bridie brought for her. Get your clogs on if you’re going to help.’

  Beth always kept some old clothes at the Glens of Lochandee for Lucy, knowing she would spend every minute with Ewan on the farm if she got the chance. The two children clattered happily after Ross, intent on helping feed the calves.

  Bridie and Beth had only just finished milking and washing up when Conan and Nick drew up in the old car they used for running around.

  ‘You’re early,’ Bridie called when her brother poked his head around the dairy door. ‘Haven’t you any work at that garage of yours?’

  ‘More than enough,’ Conan grinned. ‘We’re just better organised than you are, aren’t we, Nick?’ But Nick merely nodded vaguely, his gaze fixed intently on Bridie’s tense face. She did not meet his eye and his heart sank. He knew she was still smouldering from their disagreement, but he simply could not bring himself to accept charity from her parents. Besides, he didn’t want to share their first home together with anyone; he wanted his bride to himself.

  ‘Hey, Beth,’ Conan called as Beth busied herself fixing Lucy onto the back of her bicycle for the ride home. ‘That rascal of yours is getting too big for that.’

  ‘I’m not a rascal, Uncle Conan. I’ve asked Dad
a for a bicycle for my next birthday and Ewan wants one as well.’

  ‘Well, your Dada will have to earn a lot of money then, young lady,’ Conan teased. He looked at Beth. ‘Tell Harry we could use an extra driver on Saturday afternoon if he’s not working. We’ve done up the little bus we bought and we’ve got a few bookings already.’

  ‘I’ll tell him, but I hope it’s a lot safer than it looked the last time I saw it. I expect Harry will be glad of a bit extra with this young Miss and her wants.’ She smiled fondly at Lucy.

  Listening to this Bridie’s mouth tightened. ‘I suppose you’re driving on Saturday too, then?’ she said, looking at Nick.

  ‘No, as a matter of fact I’m not.’

  ‘Nick told me he had a more important job to do this Saturday afternoon,’ Conan told her sharply, and she could tell by his tone that her brother was not pleased. She sensed they’d had a disagreement and she guessed it was over her.

  During supper Rachel could feel the tension between Nick and Conan, as well as between Nick and Bridie, and her heart sank. Ross sensed it too and mentioned news of the Brigadier’s death, hoping to take their minds off their own problems.

  ‘You never told me that,’ Bridie said indignantly.

  ‘I only heard this afternoon,’ Rachel placated.

  ‘Will it make a difference to the tenancy of Nether Rullion?’ Conan asked.

  ‘We don’t know yet. I may phone his solicitor tomorrow.’

  ‘This may be your chance to buy the plot of land you were wanting, Nick,’ Conan said and saw Nick flush angrily. ‘Aah, I see you haven’t discussed your plans with the lady in question yet!’

  ‘No, I have not, and why don’t you mind your own business?’

  ‘It is my business when my partner talks about wanting to build a house instead of putting the money back into the garage,’ Conan countered. ‘And it’s my business when that same partner goes around all day with a face fit to sour milk.’