by Emma Fraser
Margaret hesitated. Alasdair would want to know his child was ill, but telling him would be pointless. By the time they could get word to him, Libby would have either recovered or… She couldn’t – wouldn’t – think of the or.
‘No. It will only worry him when there is nothing he can do.’
It was the longest night of Margaret’s life. As the wind continued to howl and the rain spattered against the window panes, her world shrunk until it was just her and her child. She bathed Elizabeth repeatedly, murmuring to her, telling her that she was there and that everything was going to be fine. She knew the next hours would either see the fever break or… Once again she pushed the alternative from her mind.
As night turned to day and back to night, Elizabeth’s breathing grew more and more laboured.
‘Hold on, my darling,’ Margaret whispered over and over. If anyone’s love could protect a child, surely hers would. Her eyes fell on Alasdair’s fob watch on the bedside table. She picked it up, rubbing the gold case between her fingers.
Alasdair, help me. If you can hear me, pray to your God to save our child’s life.
She brought the watch up to her ear and listened to its tick-tock. Faith, it seemed to say with every movement of the hand.
She knelt by the bed and, still clutching the watch, rested her head on top of her knotted hands. ‘Margaret, it’s going to be all right,’ she could hear his voice as surely as if he were in the room beside her. ‘You just have to have faith.’
She prayed, then, asking God to forgive her many faults, her lies and deceit, to punish her if He would, but please, please not to take her child.
Light was filtering in through the windows when a small voice called to her. ‘Mummy?’
Her daughter was awake and calling for her. She scrambled to her feet, her stiff muscles protesting. She sat on the bed and stroked the damp hair from her child’s forehead. ‘You’re awake. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m thirsty, Mummy. Can I have some water?’
The simple request made Margaret want to laugh out loud. Her daughter was going to be all right. Her prayers had been answered.
She stayed with Elizabeth for the next two days, only leaving her to spend some time with James. Dr Alan had returned from his night away and sent a telegram telling her to stay as long as she wanted. He would manage until she was ready to come back to work. Her daughter, as many children did, improved rapidly and soon was taking food and demanding to be let out of bed.
On the third day, she had a surprise visitor. Flora came into the bedroom to whisper that there was an odd-looking woman demanding to see her. ‘I told her if it’s the doctor she’s wanting then she should call Dr Alan. But she insists it’s you she wants to see.’
Elizabeth was sleeping so Margaret put down her book and followed Flora downstairs. She was surprised to find Dolina in the kitchen.
‘Dolina! Is everything all right?’
‘That’s what I’ve come to find out. Dr Alan says she’s on the road to recovery, but I’ve come to see the wee one for myself.’ She thrust something at Margaret. ‘I brought her a present.’
It was a little hand-knitted teddy bear. Margaret swallowed the lump in her throat.
‘She’s going to be all right. She’s sleeping peacefully now.’
‘I’d like to see her,’ Dolina said stubbornly. ‘I haven’t come all this way just to hand over a toy.’
‘Of course you haven’t. Come upstairs.’ Margaret held out the teddy bear. ‘You give it to her yourself.’
Elizabeth was still sleeping but when Dolina stroked her face with a gentle finger her eyes flickered, then opened. ‘Hello, Dolina,’ Elizabeth whispered.
‘Hello, mo ghràidh. How are you feeling?’ Dolina smiled and perched on the side of the bed.
‘Better,’ she said. ‘Am I at Mummy’s house?’
‘No,’ Margaret said gently. ‘You’re still at Aunty Flora’s. But I’m not going anywhere until you’re better.’
‘What about the other sick people, Mummy? Don’t they need you?’
‘They have Dr Alan and the nurses to look after them. They can do without me for a while longer.’
Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and sat up. ‘Are you going to stay here too, Dolina? ’Cause I’d like that.’
Dolina blinked rapidly. ‘I’m sorry, pet, but I have to go back and see to Dr Alan. I just wanted to give you this.’ She tucked the teddy bear into Elizabeth’s arms.
‘Oh, he’s beautiful!’ Elizabeth hugged the toy to her chest. She looked up at Dolina. ‘Will you read me and Teddy a story?’
‘I can tell you a story if you like.’
‘Yes please,’ Elizabeth said. She moved into the older woman’s arms and settled herself against her. ‘It’s okay, Mummy. You can go for a bit.’
Margaret went to sit in the kitchen while she waited for Dolina to come downstairs. After a while she heard her heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.
‘That child needs to live with you,’ Dolina said. ‘They both do. They need their mother.’
‘I know, Dolina. I can’t leave them again. I’m going to take them back to Lochmaddy with me. Dr Alan will understand. There must be someone who will look after them while I’m at work.’
‘I can take care of them.’
‘What about Dr Alan?’
‘He’ll manage. He’ll want you to stay too.’
‘And when I’m out on call?’
‘They can either come and stay at the Big House or I’ll make myself a bed on the floor and sleep at the cottage.’
‘I can’t afford to pay you much.’
‘I don’t need much. You and I can manage between us. I’ll continue seeing to Dr Alan and the patients too, of course.’
Margaret didn’t know if she could trust herself to speak. ‘I’ll have to discuss it with Dr Alan, but if he agrees that would be wonderful. Thank you, Dolina!’ To have her children with her all the time would make such a difference.Dolina sniffed. ‘Aye, well. It’s not good for a child to be kept from her mother.’
‘Did you never want to get married, Dolina?’ She couldn’t help taking advantage of this newer, softer, side to Dolina. She might pretend to be as tough as old boots but Margaret was increasingly certain that behind that crusty exterior was a soul in pain.
Dolina flushed. ‘I don’t see what concern that is of yours. Do I ask you things about your personal life? No!’
Margaret could have bitten her tongue. Dolina might have mellowed towards her, but deep down she was still the same prickly individual Margaret knew and, surprisingly, had come to love.
‘Sorry. Forgive me. You are quite right. I shouldn’t pry.’ Perhaps Dolina had been in love with someone and he was killed in the war? Or perhaps she’d been in love with someone who didn’t love her in return? One day, she hoped, Dolina would trust her enough to tell Margaret her story.
‘I’m going to take the children back to Lochmaddy to live with me,’ Margaret told Flora over a cup of tea after Dolina had left and Elizabeth had gone back to sleep.
‘I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t care for Libby better.’
‘Oh, Flora. Of course I don’t blame you! These things happen regardless of how well we care for our loved ones. But I see now I was wrong not to keep them with me. I could never forgive myself if Libby had… if something had happened to her and I wasn’t with her.’
‘Will Dr Alan let you keep her with you?’
‘If he won’t, then I’ll have to leave. I’m not sure where we will go, but I do know I’ll never be separated from my child again. Not ever.’
‘We will miss them. The children will take it hard.’ Flora’s hand dropped to her belly. ‘Although I have something in here that will take their minds off your children leaving us.’
‘You’re pregnant?’
‘Yes.’ Margaret didn’t need to ask if Flora was sure. After three children she would know.
‘Congratulations. I’m happy for you.’ She pau
sed. ‘As long as you’re happy for yourself?’
Flora’s face lit up. ‘I always wanted a brood. So does Peter. There’s more than enough love in this house to go round.’
‘You are so right about that.’ Margaret went around to Flora’s side of the table and hugged her.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Flora said when they’d moved apart again, ‘the postie delivered a letter from Mairi a wee while ago while you were upstairs with your visitor.’
‘Good news?’ Margaret hardly dared hope. There were just over six weeks left before Alasdair’s case went to court.
‘It could be. For you, at least. Remember Mrs Murphy? And how she was able to give Toni and Mr Firth one of the names of the two men she saw. Hugh McCulloch it was. Toni and his pals have been trying to find him. A week ago McCulloch’s body washed up in the Clyde. His throat had been cut.’
‘Dear God! It wasn’t Toni…?’
‘Heavens, no!’ Flora smiled grimly. ‘Just as well your Alasdair is locked up, otherwise they might be saying he did it.’
‘Who do they think did kill him?’
‘The police aren’t saying, but everyone thinks it was Billy Barr. He never believed Alasdair was guilty and swore he’d get the man who was.’
Margaret hated to think a man had been murdered, a man who might well be alive if the police had taken Mrs Murphy seriously or believed Alasdair. However, she couldn’t help the way her heart was thrumming, the joy flowing through her veins.
‘Surely now they have to listen to Mrs Murphy?’
‘You would think so.’ Flora laid a hand over Margaret’s. ‘I know it’s hard but all we can do is wait.’ She smiled again. ‘But I have a feeling it’s all going to turn out all right.’
Margaret returned to Lochmaddy at the end of the week. Elizabeth was recovering well and, although Margaret and Flora had agreed she should stay indoors for a few days yet, was almost back to her usual lively self. There had been no more letters from Mairi, and Margaret burned with impatience. At night she dreamed that Alasdair’s name had been cleared and that he was on his way home to her. She felt happier than she’d done for months.
As soon as she reached Lochmaddy she went to the antenatal annexe to check up on Caroline.
She was shocked by the young woman’s appearance. She was barely conscious and still clearly pregnant. Donald was by her side, holding her hand.
‘How is she?’ Margaret whispered, picking up the chart at the end of the bed. Caroline’s blood pressure was dropping, her heartbeat and respirations rising. The baby’s heartbeat, however, was still there.
‘Not good.’ He looked at Margaret with anguished eyes. ‘It won’t be long now, will it?’
‘No,’ Margaret said softly through the tightness in her throat. ‘I don’t think it will.’
Donald blinked rapidly. ‘How’s your wee girl? We heard she was poorly.’
‘She’s much better. But she was very, very ill. It’s why I couldn’t be here.’
‘I know. I’m happy your child was spared.’
At that moment two people walked in. Caroline’s mother and father. They nodded to Margaret and took a seat at either side of their daughter’s bed.
Donald lowered his voice. ‘They’ve been here all week. Caroline knows. She was awake when they arrived and they talked. I think it’s made her more peaceful.’
Margaret felt tears prick the back of her eyes. She squeezed Donald’s shoulder. ‘I’ll be back to see her this evening.’
When she left the annexe she went in search of Dr Alan. She found him in the consulting room. Once more the ubiquitous pipe was filling the room with smoke.
‘I’ve just been to see Caroline,’ she said. They shared a look. No words had to be exchanged. Despite what Dr Alan had said about life and death being part of a doctor’s lot, she knew he would hate losing Caroline as much as she did. Every ill patient felt like a personal battle, a battle no doctor wanted to lose.
‘Dr Alan,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I’ve decided to have the children come to live with me in the cottage.’
‘Of course, of course.’
‘It will either mean having them here when I’m out on a call or having Dolina stay over at my house.’
‘Don’t need a full-time housekeeper anyway. Quite able to look after myself.’
Margaret doubted that. Dr Alan probably had little idea how much work went into the preparation of meals, laundry and all the other myriad of tasks that went into keeping a home warm and clean.
‘Be married soon anyway,’ he added with a little smile. ‘Might take advantage of you being here to nip down to Glasgow and tie the knot! Cecilia has been hinting it’s time for long enough.’
He’d kept that to himself. ‘I didn’t know you were engaged!’
‘Didn’t know myself. Until yesterday. Sent her a telegram and got her reply straight back.’
‘You proposed to your wife-to-be by telegram?’
‘How else was I supposed to do it? Can’t take two weeks off to ask her in person, now can I? Especially when I’ve just been away!’
In that case he should have invited his fiancée up here and proposed to her then. Perhaps he thought if she saw the place for herself she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him.
‘Has she ever been here?’
‘No. But I’ve told her about it.’
‘You think that’s enough?’
He looked at her quizzically. ‘Yes. Don’t you?’
She wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that. ‘Where’s she from?’ she asked instead.
‘Edinburgh. So she’ll be used to the wind.’
Margaret almost laughed. A girl from Edinburgh might be used to the wind, but surely she wouldn’t be used to the lack of comforts on the island. But, as she was finding out, the people themselves went a long way to make up for that.
‘And she’s a doctor. Used to rough conditions.’ Margaret had learned that the more emotional Dr Alan was the fewer words he used, but to have never mentioned he was courting and that she was a doctor!
She held out her hand. ‘Congratulations. I’m hope you’ll both be very happy.’
Elizabeth and James moved in with her the following weekend. Although they were sad to leave Sandbank, Elizabeth in particular was thrilled to be living with her mother again. It would be harder for James, Margaret realised sadly, when he kept asking for Flora. She’d been more of a mother to him recently than she had been. However, she trusted that in time, he would feel as secure in her arms as he did in Flora’s. But on the whole, he was a happy, contented child and she had hopes that yet another change in his short life wouldn’t be too traumatic for him. Especially when she’d spend all her spare time making sure he and Elizabeth felt loved and secure.
‘Your new teacher is going to be Miss MacLennan,’ she told Elizabeth as she watched James toddle around the kitchen peering under sinks and into cupboards. ‘You’ll like her.’
‘I don’t care about school. I have you. I’m going to grow up to help people just the way you do.’
‘In that case you’ll have to go to school. A doctor needs to do well so she can go on to university.’
‘Oh, I don’t want to be a doctor! I want to be a nurse. I want to tuck people up in bed and put cloths on their forehead and… what else do nurses do, Mummy?’
‘They do lots, my darling. They work very hard.’
Elizabeth puffed out her small chest. ‘I work very hard. I feed the chickens and milk the cow and get water from the well. Lots of things. And I never get tired.’
Margaret pulled her daughter into her arms and breathed in the scent of grass and sunshine from her hair. ‘So you do, love. So you do.’
Chapter 40
As winter deepened, the days continued to shorten until there were only a few hours of daylight each day. But the cottage that had once seemed dark and gloomy was now filled with laughter and joy. With Libby and James with her again, Margaret wondered how she could have ever been
parted from them. True to her word, Dolina took care of them whenever Margaret had to work, and the children adored her.
The only blot in her happiness was that neither Mrs Murphy’s statement nor the murder of the man she’d identified had led to the police reopening Alasdair’s case. Nor had they been able to locate the second man. There was just a month to go before the trial.
Kirsty had agreed to let the Linklaters keep little Ruaridh and saw him regularly. The police were still keen to find the man who had raped her, but as yet had come up with no potential suspects. Margaret thought it unlikely they ever would, and supposing they did, that Kirsty would ever be able to testify against him. With the arrival of winter came the storms, and often at nights the wind shook their little house, rattling the windows. Inside, however, it was warm and cosy. Taking advantage of Margaret’s presence on the island, Dr Alan had arranged to take some time off to go to Edinburgh to marry his fiancée and was to return with his bride after a short honeymoon in the capital. Margaret still thought he should have waited until the summer to bring her here.