Song of Rhanna (The Rhanna series)

by Christine Marion Fraser

  ‘Only dogs do that, you dirty bodach,’ Elspeth sniffed haughtily.

  Tam winked at Jim Jim and shook his head sadly. ‘That is no’ a good sign right enough, Jim Jim, you will be gettin’ a sore leg if you keep that going.’

  Behag examined his face to assess whether he was being serious but seeing his doleful expression she dared to ask, ‘And what on earth has a sore leg got to do wi’ a weak bladder, Tam McKinnon?’

  Kate turned away quickly, her hand to her mouth to stifle the anticipated mirth as Tam said earnestly, ‘Well, Behag, seeing you are a woman you will never have the misery of such a complaint but every man knows that no matter how much he shakes his peg the last wee drip runs down his leg.’

  The men burst into guffaws which were not quenched by Behag’s enraged glowers and Elspeth’s disgusted ‘Hmph’ before she stalked away, her nose stuck firmly in the air. Her scurrying gait took her quickly to the side of Megan Jenkins who turned at the sound of footsteps on the stony ground.

  She was a tall, willowy young woman of about twenty-eight with soft shining brown hair that curled inward just below the curve of her ears. Her eyes were a light hazel in the pale transparency of her face and held a certain amount of trepidation as she beheld Elspeth for she had already assessed the gaunt-faced housekeeper of Slochmhor as a personage of strict moral code and a relentless ear for gossip.

  ‘It is yourself, Doctor Megan,’ greeted Elspeth, her inherent reserve not allowing for a more informal approach despite her boasting.

  ‘Elspeth.’ The new doctor tried to instil enthusiasm into the soft tones of her voice which held faint but pleasing traces of her native Welsh accents. Years of working and living in England had robbed it of much of its singing quality but it was still there, under the surface, and the more she talked the more evident it became.

  ‘I am just going to Slochmhor (this she pronounced as it should be, ‘Sloch – vor’) for evening surgery.’

  ‘I will get you along the way.’ Elspeth fell into step, enjoying the glances of curiosity from the group she had just left. ‘You will be havin’ a full surgery tonight and no mistake,’ she predicted with a certain amount of satisfaction, revelling in the advantage she had of knowing the ways of the islanders.

  ‘I won’t be taking surgery for a while yet,’ Megan explained politely. ‘Doctor McLachlan thought it would be better if I got to know his patients gradually, so to begin with I will be more or less a bystander.’

  ‘That is a pity; they are all anxious to meet you and for you to see to their ails for them.’ Elspeth forgave herself the ready lie with the excuse she was saving the new doctor the embarrassment of finding out too harshly that the islanders were not in the least looking forward to her taking over the practice. She eyed the young woman’s somewhat reserved countenance. ‘Will you be liking it here, do you think?’

  Megan’s eyes shone so much they appeared amber in a burst of sunlight spilling over the grey clouds above. ‘It’s early days but already I love my house down by the shore. Last night I lay awake for hours just listening to the seabirds and the ocean sighing.’

  Elspeth merely grunted. Hers was a purely practical nature and she had little time to spare for the more poetical aspects of life. They were passing Laigmhor just then and in the short space of a few minutes she had given the new doctor an almost chronological history of the McKenzies and their affairs.

  ‘McKenzie o’ the Glen is a proud one and no mistake,’ she said tightly. ‘Though he should be hangin’ his head in shame for the things he and his family have done. Always there is some scandal in that family and now of course it’s the turn of Lorn, McKenzie’s youngest son. We all thought he was going to be different from the rest – he was always such a good, kind laddie, but of course, blood will out and as he’s got older he is just his father all over again. They are womanizers, you know, canny seem to help themselves. His wife has left him takin’ one o’ the bairns wi’ her and folks are saying it’s because he went and had some sort of entanglement wi’ her best friend. Mind you, thon Rachel is no’ better herself, aye was as wild as a gypsy and now she flaunts herself in a way that would make any decent man lose his head . . .’

  ‘You mean Rachel Jodl, don’t you?’ Megan cut in, glad to change the subject. ‘I had heard that she came from Rhanna. She’s a wonderful musician – I was at one of her concerts in London and never heard a finer violinist.’

  ‘Och, ay, she’s a clever enough lass,’ Elspeth had to agree, ‘and unlike the McKenzies she has given the island a good name, but it doesny give her the right to behave as she does. Lorn and Ruth were quite happy till she came back and broke them up. It has caused quite a scandal I can tell you. Lorn is going about wi’ his head down – and well he might – for the rascal deserves all he gets. His sister is married to the doctor’s son. A fine laddie is Niall.’ Elspeth’s tones grew warm as she liked nothing better than to boast about a member of the family she considered herself part of. ‘He had his sorrows to seek wi’ that madam, Shona, oh ay, she led him into mischief from the start. What man doesny fall for a pretty face? Nobody could blame Niall for the things that happened . . .’

  The monologue went on and by the time Slochmhor was reached Megan’s head was whirling and she was only too thankful to reach the safe haven of the parlour where Phebie and Lachlan were having their usual late-afternoon tea. Elspeth disappeared to the kitchen regions and Lachlan laughed when he saw Megan’s bewildered face.

  ‘I see Elspeth has been regaling you with local gossip. You mustny mind her too much; her good points outweigh the bad – only just. In the beginning we were all scared stiff of her rantings, but the years have mellowed us all and she is a damned good housekeeper.’

  ‘That is Elspeth mellowed?’ said Megan faintly. ‘I don’t think I would have fancied knowing her when she was in full vigour.’

  ‘You will have a cuppy?’ Phebie asked, the teapot poised ready.

  Megan pushed back her hair and sat down thankfully. ‘I’d love one. I can see that cuppies and cracks are quite a feature of island life. I’ve only been here since yesterday and already I’ve been invited into several homes for a wee strupak.’

  Lachlan grinned. ‘At the moment they’re dying to have a look at you and their invitations are a combination of friendliness and curiosity. Later on, when you’re part of the scenery, you’ll find a strupak is just an excuse to combine hospitality with an exchange of gossip.’

  Megan sighed. ‘I wonder if I will ever feel part of the scenery. Life here is so different from what I’ve been used to, although I started off life in the country I’ve spent a lot of it in cities.’

  Lachlan said softly, ‘I know you’ll fit in here, that’s why I had my eye on you from the start.’

  She coloured and as she turned to talk to Phebie he studied her, struck by the grace of her slender figure, by her fine hands with their small bones and astonishingly long fingers. A casual observer might have dismissed her as having no particular beauty, but a more leisurely study revealed certain delightful features: the honesty in her strikingly lovely eyes; the sensitive, well-shaped mouth and straight white teeth which only revealed themselves when she spoke because, as Lachlan had already noted, she rarely smiled. But it wasn’t her physical attributes which had attracted his attention at the Executive Council Interview Board which he had attended in Inverness. Quietly he had sized up the shortlisted GPs and though each had their merits, there had been something about the young female doctor which he had liked. Although quiet and gentle, there was a decisiveness in her attitude to doctoring tempered by a true caring for her profession. She had put forward a good case for wanting the position on Rhanna. The other candidates had had varied reasons for wanting the job too but, as far as Lachlan was concerned, Megan Jenkins had tendered the most pertinent. She had spent many holidays in the Hebrides and had fallen in love, not only with the islands, but with the people and would welcome the opportunity to live and work among them.

  T
here had been another important point in her favour. Being Welsh she spoke Welsh Gaelic and also had a fair smattering of Scottish Gaelic. One or two of the other applicants had shown contempt for the Gaelic language, another rather officious type had told the Council, ‘I’d soon get those people into the twentieth century, need stirring up a bit – lazy from what I hear.’ Lachlan had shuddered at that, he had also shuddered when he learned that a tall man with a mop of grey hair and a bearing and manner more suited to Harley Street, had given away the fact that he was something of a Holy Wullie and was a lay preacher in his spare time.

  Lachlan’s experience had helped in the final decision, and he had been delighted when Megan was chosen. He and Phebie had asked her to stay at Slochmhor but she had opted to take a house over by Burg Bay with the wild Atlantic beating the shore just a few yards away and breathtaking views over the Sound of Rhanna.

  ‘Your nearest neighbour will be Mark James, the minister,’ Lachlan had told her. ‘If you need anything I know he’ll be only too pleased to help.’

  At that point in time Megan had not met the minister and she had no intention of calling on him for assistance, nor anyone else for that matter. She was perfectly content to be by herself and to manage her own affairs, no matter how difficult that might be in a house with no electricity, running water, or any of the other basic amenities she had been used to. She saw her new way of life as a challenge and was quite excited at the prospect of stretching her initiative. Besides, she wanted as different a life as possible from the one she had previously led. She needed time to be by herself in order to try and get over a recent, traumatic love affair. She had felt guilty at not mentioning to Lachlan that that had been another of her reasons for wanting the post but decided it was a personal matter and one she wished to keep firmly to herself.

  ‘I was hearing something of the affairs of a family named McKenzie,’ she hazarded tentatively, not wishing to let the McLachlans mistake polite conversation for gossip.

  ‘They have had their share of troubles like everyone else.’ Lachlan cursed Elspeth for her loose tongue and for giving a newcomer an instantly wrong impression about people who were so close to his heart. ‘Elspeth will have told you about Lorn – and a lot more besides. What he needs now is help – not hindrance – but you’ll find out for yourself what kind of people the McKenzies are and can form your own opinion of them.’

  As it happened the new doctor was about to find out a bit more of the family under discussion, a whole lot sooner than she expected, because Kirsteen arrived at that moment, her fair skin flushed, her blue eyes sparkling in her face. Lachlan introduced her to Megan whom she acknowledged warmly, welcoming her to the island and hoping that she would like it, then she turned to the others and said breathlessly, ‘I have just had a phone call from Grant.’

  Without any preliminaries she plunged into an account of her conversation with her eldest son, in her exuberance seeming not to mind the new doctor hearing everything she had to say. Phebie poured another cup of tea and listened, her own face growing rosy with anticipation as Kirsteen talked on.

  When she revealed that the young people had finally decided to settle down on the island both Lachlan and Phebie gave a shout of delight. ‘Och, it will be just grand to have them back,’ Phebie beamed. ‘And lovely to have a baby about the place again.’ She glanced at Lachlan’s happy face. ‘And here you were thinking you would have too much time on your hands when you retired – Fiona will see to it that your days are well filled.’

  ‘Bang goes all the lovely long mornings in bed – and those fishing trips I planned with Fergus.’ Lachlan tried to look woeful, but was secretly looking forward to having young people in his life again. He had made quite a few plans for the future. For the first time in all their married years on the island he and Phebie would know the luxury of having the entire run of the house. The surgery and dispensary could now be integrated. He planned to make one of the rooms into a den, somewhere he could go to relax, perhaps start writing a book about his experiences as an island GP. He hadn’t told Phebie this yet, the idea had only recently taken root in his mind, but the more it fermented the more enthusiastic he became . . .

  ‘Of course, they’ll be staying at Laigmhor till they get a place of their own. I’m busy getting the rooms ready now,’ Kirsteen’s voice recalled Lachlan to the present. ‘They won’t be home till August at least, but I want Fergus to do some decorating. He’s never been exactly enthusiastic about such things so he’ll need time to get used to the idea.’

  Lachlan’s eyes went at once to Phebie’s face. The words might have come from her, he had heard them almost every day since the news of the expected baby. He braced himself for what was to come, glancing rather nervously at Megan who was sitting quietly in the background looking slightly embarrassed. He saw Phebie’s struggle to remain calm, saw the dangerous gleam in her normally placid eyes which told him that she was entirely unable to control the outburst that followed.

  ‘Oh but, Kirsteen, I’m all set for them to come here, I thought you knew that. I made it perfectly plain that I want my daughter to have her baby in the very house she herself was born in. You can come over whenever you like of course but . . .’

  Kirsteen’s face went from pink to red, her eyes sparkled blue fire. ‘Havers, Phebie! We have much more room at Laigmhor. We can give them their own set of rooms and a nursery for the bairn . . .’

  ‘You forget you have Lorn back staying with you.’ Phebie’s voice rose. ‘How can you be so selfish, Kirsteen? I never thought it of you of all people. You already have one son at home so why grudge us the right to have our daughter? Besides, with the surgery and dispensary no longer in use we will have more space than we need – not to mention the empty bedrooms upstairs!’

  Inwardly Lachlan groaned as he saw all his carefully laid plans go up in smoke and he said as patiently as he could, ‘Hey, c’mon you two. It’s far too early to make any such plans. No doubt Fiona and Grant will have their own ideas on where they want to stay.’

  Kirsteen tossed her head. ‘Grant as much as hinted he would be wanting to come back to Laigmhor and I will certainly go ahead and get the decorating done.’

  Phebie lifted her plump chin. ‘And so will I, Kirsteen – as a matter of fact I have already started to paint the bedrooms.’

  Kirsteen stood up, a determination on her face that both Phebie and Lachlan knew so well, for she had had so much trouble thrust upon her in recent years she had developed a resilience that was as tough as leather. ‘I think I’ve said enough on the subject.’ Her voice was tight and firm. ‘And I’m not going to stay here and listen to another word. You had better get used to the idea of the young ones coming to Laigmhor, for if you don’t you will only bring unnecessary hurt upon yourselves.’

  With that, she flounced away, ignoring Elspeth’s sharp face hovering curiously in the hall. The door banged shut behind her with such energy the plates on the dresser rattled and the windows shook in their frames.

  A rather shamefaced Lachlan grinned at Megan, ‘No doubt you will already be forming your own opinions about the McKenzies. Kirsteen inherited the title only through marriage of course, but I’d say she gave as good a show of temper as any true blue McKenzie any day.’

  Megan’s face was sober and anyone simply glancing at her would have thought that she had taken the whole affair seriously. But her hazel eyes were twinkling beneath her fringe of dark lashes which she had hastily and discreetly lowered. In the face of Phebie’s ire she daren’t show anything else but sympathy for the occasion. Nevertheless she decided to play safe and steer a middle course by saying thoughtfully, ‘I saw her on the road yesterday evening and she gave the impression of being as calm and sweet as a sunny summer’s day.’

  ‘Oh she is – normally,’ Lachlan hastened to assure. He spread his hands resignedly. ‘Today was a very rare exception, a good example of how families fight over their offspring.’

  Phebie gave him a cold look. ‘I am not f
ighting, and I will expect you, Lachlan McLachlan, to support me in this matter.’

  Lachlan sighed and stood up. ‘Time we went to take surgery, Megan. Elspeth usually has everything ready though she’s spent so much time in the hall listening I doubt the patients will find everything at sixes and sevens when they arrive.’

  The patients had already arrived. Together with Elspeth they had eavesdropped on the argument with avid enjoyment. They had also witnessed Kirsteen’s hasty exit from the premises and Kate shook her head in dismay. ‘Ach my, I would never have believed it if I hadny heard it wi’ my very own lugs. That pair have been friends for years. I never thought I’d see the day they would be bawling at each other like a couple o’ schoolchildren.’

  Behag folded her hands on her lap, sniffed, and said with quiet satisfaction, ‘There is a first time for everything – and of course, what can you expect from a body so entrenched in the McKenzie ways? She has developed the same wicked temper though mind you, I for one canny blame her – even though she knew what she was doing when she came back to McKenzie complete wi’ his son born out of wedlock. She has had to thole a lot from that family and now she has Lorn to contend wi’ it’s little wonder she is turning into a sour cailleach.’

  Kate chuckled. ‘She is maybe modelling herself on you, Behag, though I doubt it. It would take a normal body a hundred and more years to accomplish what you have done in just sixty-seven. She will never have your greetin’ auld face, that’s for sure, she is far too nice lookin’ for that.’

  Behag glared and turned her back on Kate just as Megan came out of the parlour to cross the hall into the surgery. In face of the new diversion all else paled and men and women alike gaped at her without reserve. She took one look at the gimlet-eyed gathering, swallowed hard, and passed hastily into the surgery, her neat, high-heeled shoes making a rhythmical tapping on the linoleum, her glossy brown head held as high as it would go.