The Moon Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  A few minutes later, we drove down the hill towards the barn where the pregnant heifers were housed.

  ‘This way.’ Cal indicated another small barn to the left. He took a key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the padlock. ‘Ready?’ he asked me.

  ‘Ready.’

  Cal opened the door and I followed him inside. There was a soft rustling from the corner, and in the light coming from the doorway I saw a skinny female deer lying on a bed of straw. I could tell she was very weak by the way she was desperately trying to stand, but failing.

  ‘What’s happened to her?’ I whispered.

  ‘I found her last night in the birch copse, Tig. She was distressed and on her knees, with a swollen belly that told me she was in labour. Me an’ Lochie managed to get her in the back of Beryl and then in here,’ Cal whispered back. ‘The wee one’s nae in good shape either – arrived in the early hours, probably before its due-date, but last time I checked it was still alive. Mum’s struggling now though,’ he sighed.

  We looked at her and saw she had sunk back onto the straw, no longer capable of movement.

  ‘Go and see her baby,’ Cal urged me.

  ‘Have you called Fiona?’

  ‘No, you’ll see why in a moment,’ he said, pushing me gently towards the hind.

  Whispering words of comfort both out loud and inside my head, I approached her gradually, a few centimetres at a time. I stopped at the edge of the straw bed, then slowly knelt down.

  ‘Hello,’ I whispered. ‘My name’s Tiggy, and I’m here to help you.’

  I sat there, my knees feeling the damp and cold of the barn floor, but never removing my eyes from hers.

  Trust me, I am your friend . . . my inner voice told the hind over and over again.

  Eventually, it was the hind who dropped her beautiful liquid eyes from mine as her thin body finally relaxed and I edged nearer.

  ‘Look in the straw beside her,’ Cal whispered from behind me. ‘Here’s a torch.’

  He held it out to me and I shone it down into the gloom, making out a skinny pair of legs that were protruding from between its mother’s. I ran the light along its body as it lay prone and ominously still. Then I gave a gasp of astonishment, and, wondering if it was a trick of the light, I swept the torch beam down its body once more.

  ‘Oh my God!’ I whispered as I turned to look at Cal.

  ‘I know, Tig. I told you it was a miracle.’

  Tears came unbidden to my eyes as I shuffled myself onto the straw. I peered over the hind’s prone body to take a closer look at her calf.

  ‘It’s white, Cal, pure white! I . . .’

  Cal nodded and I could see his eyes were brimming with emotion too. ‘Problem is, Tig, Mum may be done for and the calf’s hardly stirred since he was born. He needs the suckle.’

  ‘Let me try and get closer,’ I said as I shuffled forward a little further to allow me to place my hand under the hind’s nose, so she could smell me. I stayed there for as long as I could, then lifted my hand and rested it on the back of her neck. At my touch, she looked up at me and I read all the fear and pain she felt. And knew that her time on this earth was running out.

  I moved into a more comfortable position to take another look at the calf, lying next to its exhausted mother. I laid my hand against the soft fur of his flank, then began to stroke him gently, my hand moving along his body as I examined him. Carefully picking up one of his back legs to check on the bones, I saw that, even though he was weak, he had no physical impediments.

  ‘How is he?’ Cal asked.

  ‘Just perfect, but very fragile. I don’t know whether he’ll make it, but . . .’

  You have to save him, Tiggy . . . said my inner voice.

  ‘Okay, I’m going to try.’ I closed my eyes, then asked for the help I needed.

  As Angelina had taught me, I imagined all the life-giving energy from the universe flowing into my hands as I swept them up and down the calf’s body. I repeated this process perhaps five or six times, drawing the bad energy out of him and shaking it away into the ether. I couldn’t say how long I sat there, but when I came to, I found his eyes were open and he was gazing up at me with interest.

  ‘Hello,’ I said.

  In response, the calf stretched out his legs away from his mother, so that his head rested against my knees.

  ‘Aren’t you a handsome boy,’ I said as I bent over to plant a kiss on his newly minted white coat.

  I saw his mother struggle to lift her head from the straw. She opened her huge shy eyes again and stared at me.

  ‘You’re beautiful too,’ I murmured, looking at her long eyelashes, and the white star in the centre of her forehead. ‘Pegasus chose you especially, didn’t he?’

  I put my other hand on her head and one of her skinny legs lifted towards me, as if she was trying to touch me. I could see that she had little strength – or time – left.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I whispered as I stroked her head, then leant down to kiss it. ‘You’ll be safe where you’re going and you mustn’t worry about your little one. I swear I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.’

  It seemed to me that a tear formed in one of the hind’s eyes, before she lay back down on the straw and closed them for the last time.

  My own tears dripped all over her orphaned son’s warm coat, the parallel of my own birth being played out in animal form not lost on me. I sat in that barn with the baby stag resting against my knee, and together we mourned the mothers we’d both lost before we’d ever known them.

  ‘You okay, Tig?’ Cal said eventually.

  ‘Yes. Sad that the mother’s gone, but I think her calf will survive. Look!’

  The stag was nuzzling at my hand, obviously in search of milk.

  ‘Shit, Tig,’ Cal sighed. ‘It means we’re going tae have tae hand rear him.’

  ‘Do you have any bottles up in the sheds?’

  ‘I’ll go an’ get a couple and some milk, though he’ll probably reject it. I’ll bring the portable gas heater down as well. You’re going tae catch your death down here.’

  ‘Thanks, Cal,’ I said, although it was only when he mentioned it that I realised I was shivering, but that was probably more to do with emotion than cold.

  ‘What will we do with you?’ I whispered to try and calm the baby stag, who was fully awake now and frantic with hunger. ‘Perhaps we could paint you brown so no one but us would know . . .’

  Cal arrived back twenty minutes later, by which time I was very pleased to see the gas heater. I saw Lochie and Zara were with him and I waved them over to look at Pegasus’s son.

  ‘I found these two smoking outside the Lodge,’ Cal said, throwing Zara a stern glance. ‘Thought they’d like to say hello.’

  ‘Oh Tiggy,’ Zara breathed, coming over to me. ‘He’s adorable.’

  ‘I cannae believe it, Tiggy,’ Lochie said as he knelt down next to Zara. ‘Who woulda thought it? Can I touch him?’

  ‘Yes, he needs to get used to being handled by humans if he’s going to survive,’ I said, and watched as Lochie and Zara gingerly stroked the newborn.

  ‘Cal says you breathed life back intae him, Tiggy. You have a way with animals, like Mum,’ Lochie commented as he rested a hand tentatively on the pale fur.

  ‘Here’s the bottle, Tig,’ Cal said, handing it to me before pushing the heater across the uneven floor towards us.

  Very gently, I eased the teat of the bottle between the calf’s lips, but he refused to unclamp his jaw. Then I tried squirting a little warm milk on his gums, praying he would accept it.

  ‘Come on, darling,’ I whispered, ‘you need to drink, get strong for your mum and dad.’

  After a number of further attempts, to our collective relief, he opened his mouth and finally began to suckle.

  ‘He thinks you’re his mum, Tig.’ Cal smiled, as the calf finished the bottle and began to nudge my hand for more. ‘The question is, what are we going tae do with our orphan now? You for one can’t spend t
he night in here. I’ll no’ be responsible for you suffering further illness, but no one can get wind o’ his birth, or his sweet little head’ll be on a plinth before you can say “venison”!’

  ‘You could take him up tae mine,’ Lochie suggested. ‘My mum would be happy tae have a new pet, especially one as special as he is.’

  Cal and I looked at each other, seeing the dawning light of a possible solution.

  ‘Are you sure, Lochie?’ I asked him. ‘I mean, I’d be up every day, but it’s a full-time job, hand-rearing a young calf.’

  ‘I’ll help too,’ Zara butted in.

  ‘’T’would be nae bother, Tiggy,’ Lochie reassured me. ‘Between us all, I’m sure we can care for him. Our croft is out o’ the way o’ prying eyes, so he’d be safe with us.’

  ‘It’s the right thing tae do, Tig,’ Cal said. ‘This time we’re no’ taking any chances. Now, why don’t we carry the young ’un to Beryl, and Lochie can drive you up to the croft? The sooner we get him out o’ here, the better.’

  I stood up and carried the calf – its long skinny legs hanging over the cradle I’d made with my arms – to the car. As Cal helped me up into the passenger seat and Zara climbed into the back, Lochie got behind the wheel.

  ‘I’ll stay here and see tae his mum,’ Cal said.

  ‘Please don’t skin and blood her,’ I begged him.

  ‘Course I won’t, Tig. I’ll bury her over in the forest by the Lodge and mark it wi’ a couple o’ twigs.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  I held tightly to my precious cargo as we set off along the bumpy track. At the entrance to the estate, we turned left towards the chapel and continued for another few kilometres up onto the fells. Eventually, a low grey stone farmhouse came into view, smoke billowing from its chimney, the surrounding land full of woolly white dots, still visible in the encroaching dusk.

  ‘It’ll be lambing time soon,’ Lochie commented as he brought Beryl to a halt, then walked round to open the passenger door to help me and the calf out. I stood there for a few seconds with my precious cargo and looked up to see the pale sliver of a new moon welcoming the newborn to the world. Then Zara and I followed Lochie into a low-ceilinged kitchen.

  Fiona was standing at the range, stirring a large saucepan of soup.

  ‘Hello Tiggy, Zara.’ She greeted us with a smile. ‘What a surprise! How lovely to see you both! And what have you got there?’ She came over for a closer look.

  ‘He’s something very special, Mum, and you and Dad have to swear yae won’t say a word to anyone,’ Lochie said.

  ‘As if you have to ask.’ Fiona raised an eyebrow at her son as she looked down at the calf. ‘Oh my goodness, Tiggy, is he really what I think he is?’

  ‘Yes. Here, take him for a cuddle.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Fiona said, obviously overwhelmed. I handed the gangly bundle over carefully, and stood back to watch how the calf would react to a new pair of arms. Yet, as Fiona embraced him, and whispered endearments to him softly, he hardly stirred. I breathed a sigh of relief as every instinct told me that Fiona was the perfect stand-in mother and the croft itself the perfect hiding place.

  ‘Lochie, take that pot off the heat and put the kettle on,’ Fiona directed her son, as she beckoned me and Zara to the well-worn kitchen table and indicated I should sit down next to her. ‘I presume his mother is dead?’

  ‘Sadly, yes. It was natural causes, though.’

  ‘Lochie told me you got shot when you were trying to save the white stag from a poacher.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is this . . . ? I mean, it must be the dead stag’s son – the leucistic gene is usually inherited.’

  ‘I think we have to assume so, yes. Cal says he was born this morning. I’ve managed to feed him a bottle, but he’s obviously still weak.’

  ‘But he seems very alert, which is a good sign. I’ll check him over, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘I’d love you to. He wasn’t alert when I first saw him,’ I said as Fiona retrieved her medical bag from the floor by the back door and took out her stethoscope.

  ‘Cal said Tiggy put her hands on the calf and breathed life back into him,’ Zara commented as Fiona listened to the calf’s heart.

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard you have healing hands, Tiggy. Do you?’ Fiona asked.

  ‘Cal says she does, yes,’ Lochie answered his mum.

  ‘Lochie, why don’t you take Zara out to the barn to see the new kittens? Give this little one a bit of space,’ Fiona suggested.

  ‘Okay.’

  As Lochie led Zara out of the back door, Fiona continued to examine the calf.

  ‘Fancy coming to work with me? I think I mentioned it when we last met. I’m a great believer in holistic medicine operating in tandem with the traditional.’

  ‘Oh my God, I’d love to, Fiona, but I don’t have any official training or qualifications.’

  ‘Well, qualifications can be arranged; it’s having the gift in the first place that matters.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ I said incredulously.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she confirmed. ‘Let’s arrange a time to discuss it, preferably over a large glass of wine. There.’ Fiona put her medical equipment away in her bag. ‘He’s in fine fettle. Now, can you hold on to him whilst I stir the soup? Lochie’s dad will be in at any second expecting his supper.’

  I decided then that Fiona McDougal was the woman I aspired to be one day: wife, mother, homemaker, full-time vet and lovely, lovely human being.

  ‘You know, the mythological Pegasus was actually an orphan raised by Athena and the Muses . . .’

  ‘Then I think we should name him after his father,’ I whispered into his fur, my maternal urges stirring in a way that almost frightened me.

  ‘Will you stay for supper, Tiggy? Then we can talk about Pegasus’s care,’ Fiona asked, as a man who reminded me of Cal, with his stocky build and weather-beaten face, came through the door.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ Fiona smiled as he kissed her before taking off his jacket. ‘Can you go and call Lochie and Zara in from the barn? They’re with the kittens.’

  ‘O’ course, but who is this? And . . .’ he walked over to take a closer look at Pegasus, ‘that?’

  ‘Hamish, this is Tiggy, who works at Kinnaird as the Laird’s wildlife consultant.’

  ‘Hello, Tiggy, nice tae meet you.’ Hamish smiled at me and I saw the warmth in his eyes.

  ‘And “that”,’ Fiona continued, ‘is Pegasus, born this morning. He’s going to be staying up here with us for a while, out of harm’s way. Now, love, could you go and find those kids before the soup goes cold?’ Fiona added as she doled it out into bowls.

  Five minutes later, we were all seated around the old oak table in the kitchen, drinking the delicious vegetable soup, mopped up with thick chunks of warm white bread.

  ‘So you’re another veggie like my wife?’ asked Hamish.

  ‘Oh, I’m much worse – I’m a vegan,’ I answered with a grin.

  A sudden tiny mewling sound came from Zara’s direction, and the table’s attention turned towards her.

  ‘I couldn’t leave him in the barn.’ Zara had the grace to blush as she opened her jacket and plucked out a ginger kitten, striped like a tiny tiger and looking just as fierce. ‘Mum hates cats, but now Dad’s moving to Kinnaird, we can have one – or even two – at the Lodge. Isn’t he gorgeous?’ she said, stroking his head.

  ‘He is, Zara, but not at the supper table,’ Fiona said firmly. ‘Now put him down on the floor. He can go and say hello to Pegasus.’

  Zara did so and we all watched as the kitten leapt around the kitchen on its tiny legs before venturing towards the range, in front of which Pegasus lay fast asleep on a blanket.

  ‘That is adorable,’ said Zara, as the kitten sniffed around the calf, then purred as he nestled against the soft white fur. ‘One day, my home will be like this,’ she declared, turning to Lochie, who smiled devotedly at her.

  She looks so pretty ton
ight, I thought, simply because she’s sparkling with happiness.

  ‘So the Laird’s moving up here permanently?’ Fiona questioned Zara.

  ‘Yes, and hopefully, so am I, as long as Dad doesn’t change his mind. We’re going to visit the North Highland College in Dornoch next week to see what courses they offer – I’m really interested in Wildlife Management. If I go it means I can live up at Kinnaird with Dad.’

  ‘It’s right that the Laird is coming up here to take the helm,’ Hamish nodded in agreement.

  ‘What about your mum, Zara?’ Fiona asked. ‘Is she happy about the move?’

  ‘Mum and Dad are getting a divorce.’ Zara shrugged. ‘So it’s none of her business.’

  ‘Right. And you’re okay about that?’

  ‘God, yes! I should start a campaign for kids like me who live in an unhappy marriage. Trust me, parents should never stay together for us. Anyway, the great news is that I’ll be seventeen in a few days’ time, and I’ve already applied for my driving test. If I pass, I can drive up and help take care of Pegasus when you’re at work, Fiona. Until then, you’ll bring me up here, won’t you, Lochie?’ she asked shyly, and I knew from the look in her eyes that Johnnie North was totally forgotten.

  ‘Any time,’ he replied eagerly.

  ‘Now, the most important thing is that none of us ever mention a word about our newborn.’ Fiona indicated Pegasus, who had woken up and was watching the kitten as he danced around the kitchen, chasing imaginary flies.

  ‘We can work out a rota for his feeding,’ I suggested. ‘It’s not fair on you doing the night shift, Fiona.’

  ‘I’ll do those,’ Lochie offered.

  ‘And I’ll come up during the day when you’re at work,’ I chipped in. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind having him up here?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Hamish cocked his head at the calf. ‘He can go out on the fell at the back with the lambs when they’re born. They’re the same colour,’ he added with a grin.

  ‘It’s his future that I’m worried about,’ I said. ‘He should be re-wilded as soon as possible, but we’re signing his death sentence if we do that. Look what happened to his daddy.’

  ‘I know, Tiggy, and it may be that he needs to stay here for the rest of his life,’ said Fiona. ‘We’ll just have to play it by ear. We have plenty of woodland nearby – we could maybe introduce some other calves so he isn’t alone, and Cal could help Lochie fence it off . . .’