God's Acre

by Dee Yates

  ‘Look, Neil, I’ve told you before…’

  ‘So you have, so you have. Well, just remember, you may live to regret it one day.’

  Jeannie would have asked him what he meant by that, but they had reached the school now and she needed to check the footsteps. Sure enough they passed in front of the school and carried on along the track as it wound in between the hills.

  ‘If he was my lad, he’d earn a spanking for his behaviour,’ Neil continued.

  Jeannie came to an abrupt standstill and glared at Neil. ‘How dare you say that? The lad is five years old. He’s just lost his dad in the war. How do you expect him to behave?’ She turned away from her companion in disgust and began to stride along the track towards the cottage from which a glimmer of light was yellowing the snow in front of the window.

  Tam replied quickly to her hammering on the door. ‘Jeannie! It’s you. What on earth’s the matter?’ He opened the door wide, then noticed Neil standing in the background. He scowled. ‘What’s going on? What’s he doing here?’

  Jeannie stepped inside, followed by Neil, and began to explain in as few words as possible why they were there.

  ‘The poor wee lad,’ Douglas McColl said, stepping up to the group.

  ‘He’s no’ been here,’ Tam said. ‘Where on earth can he be?’

  Jeannie took them outside and pointed to the footprints. They came up to the door, but, when they looked again, they could see that they veered off to the left around the back of the cottage and down the hill towards the river.

  ‘Oh no! He could be anywhere,’ Jeannie said fearfully. ‘And it’s nearly dark now.’ She stared into the distance.

  Tam wrinkled his forehead in thought. ‘I know where we could look first. Remember when he came that Sunday how he spent most of the afternoon damming up the river with stones.’

  The group made their way down the hill towards the riverbank. Sure enough, as they drew near, they could hear Malcolm’s voice. He was talking to his dad, telling him how he planned to build a dam across the river and make a pond big enough for ice skating.

  Jeannie called to him and, turning, he came slowly across the mud and snow and put his arms out to hug her.

  ‘You’re cold, wee man.’ She took his hands between hers and rubbed them gently.

  ‘My da’ said he would take us ice skating this winter. But Mam says he’s no’ coming back. Is she right? Is he no’ coming back?’ The trembling question ended in a sob.

  ‘He’s no’ coming back,’ Jeannie said softly. ‘But just now your mum needs to go home. You’ll be able to come and see us any time you like in the future. Right now, your mum needs you to be strong for her and help her. Do you think you can do that?’

  ‘Aye.’ His voice was low and solemn. ‘Aye, I can do that. Me and Ian together. We’ll look after her. And then one day, when I’m grown up, I’ll come back and help on the farm.’

  25. Consequences

  December 1939

  When Tam quietly entered the cottage later that evening, his brother was sprawled in front of a dying fire, half asleep.

  ‘That’s you home early tonight.’ Tam commented. ‘Have you no’ been seeing Fiona?’ It was unlike his brother to be idling at home when he could be out with the girls or, failing that, his mates.

  ‘No. Too tired.’ He yawned and considered his brother. ‘To tell you the truth, we had a bit of a fall-out… a lovers’ tiff, you might say.’

  ‘Oh. Nothing too serious, I hope?’

  ‘Why?’ Alan grinned. ‘Worried that I might start dancing attention on the lovely Jeannie?’

  ‘No! Of course not!’ Tam replied a little too forcefully. It was just what was worrying him. He sank down in his father’s armchair.

  ‘You want to watch out, pal. If Father sees you in that chair…’

  ‘But he won’t. He’s away to his bed. So, where’s the harm?’

  ‘What have you been up to till this hour? Not working, surely?’

  ‘No. I had things to think about. I went for a walk.’ He didn’t say that he had followed Jeannie and Neil at a distance when they had left the cottage with Malcolm to return to Blackford Farm. He said nothing about standing at the entrance to the Cunningham farmyard and watching and waiting in case Jeannie should emerge again. Or about his glimpsing her in her attic room when she came to the window with a candle and stood in silence looking out into the darkness while the candle cast wavering shadows across the walls. Tam took a deep breath. ‘Actually, I’ve been thinking that I will go and enlist.’

  Alan drew in his legs and sat up straight, staring at his brother as though he had lost his senses. ‘What’s brought this on? I mean, it might come to that anyway, but why not wait until you’re forced, if you are?’

  ‘The wee lads’ dad – they heard today that he’s been killed at the front. He must be one of the first war casualties. It doesn’t seem right, three weans left without their dad while we carry on safe and sound. In any case, Dad doesn’t need us both here. Right enough, there’s plenty of sheep to take care of, but we can’t do anything more here to help with the war effort. The soil’s just not good enough for tatties and turnips and all the other things they are telling us we should grow. You and Dad can manage fine without me for a bit.’ He didn't add that he was not prepared to stay around and see Neil Cunningham winning Jeannie's affections or, even worse, watching his own brother dance attention on her.

  ‘And what does the lovely Jeannie have to say about it?’

  Tam tensed at his brother's words which did nothing to ease his misgivings. ‘Oh, I’ve no’ said anything to her yet.’

  Alan shook his head. ‘And I imagine the sparks will fly when you do, and no mistake.’

  *

  The circumstances of Malcolm’s disappearance kept playing over in Jeannie’s mind – the young boy’s realisation out there in the snow that he wouldn’t see his dad again; bringing him in to Douglas McColl’s fireside, getting him warm again; wrapping him in his winter coat and gloves and setting off once more along the path back to where his mother was waiting. But most of all she kept seeing Tam’s face – his look of bewilderment as he saw Neil by her side on the doorstep, his upset as she refused his offer of help to get the boy home again, the look on his face as she set off along the track with Neil and the child.

  The snow that had started to fall on the day they learned of Kenneth McPherson’s death did not delay the departure of his family back to Glasgow. It continued to fall intermittently over the next couple of weeks. There was less to do on the farm now. The fields had been harvested and were lying fallow. The cows still needed to be milked morning and evening and Rosie the Clydesdale was exercised regularly. Of all the animals, the sheep took up the greatest time. Grazing was poor, even when the grass was free of snow, so food needed to be taken to the various fields where the sheep were confined, some of them at a fair distance from the farm.

  The bulk of the work at this time of the year was cleaning the equipment. All machinery had to be dismantled, cleaned, oiled and put together again. Renovating the ploughs, harrows and harvesters, as well as the tractor, took up many winter hours. Jeannie enjoyed the work, for at least she was in the barn out of the bitter weather. But all the time that she was busy, her mind kept returning to Tam, whom she had not seen since the evening of Malcolm's disappearance. She longed to see him, to explain about that evening, how Neil’s parents had insisted that their son accompany her in her search for Malcolm.

  One afternoon, when she had a couple of hours to spare until milking time, she set off across the valley and up the hillside to where the pheasant pens were to be found, in the hopes of seeing Tam. It was hard-going, the snow in the forest deep in places and untrodden, but she plodded on, confident that she would find him feeding or watering the birds. But the clearing was deserted. Around the pens were numerous footprints, but there was no sign of the person who had made them. She retraced her steps. Tomorrow, Neil was taking her to the station. She was to sp
end the Christmas weekend with her parents. Now there would be no chance of seeing Tam before she left.

  *

  Tam stood on the brow of the hill, looking over the valley. In some places the snow was heaped up in fantastic ridges and undulations, in others the wind had scoured the surface of the moors, leaving them bleak and barren. Against the whiteness, the sheep looked scruffy and yellow. He had spent all day taking feed out to them. Tomorrow he would have to do the same again… and the next day and the next. He had been so busy since he had made the decision to enlist that he had not been able to leave the farm and go into town to do so. Now it would have to wait until after the New Year festivities. Not that there were likely to be many of them. No one seemed in a mood to celebrate, least of all him. He had heard that a dance had been organised, to take place in the village hall on Hogmanay. No doubt if Jeannie went at all, she would go with Neil. That seemed to be the state of things when he last set eyes on her. Perhaps it was for the best.

  This state of things was confirmed in his mind when he returned from feeding the sheep and decided to walk to the Cunninghams’ farm in the hopes of seeing Jeannie. Agnes Cunningham opened the door.

  ‘Tam. It’s yourself. Come in out of the cold, won’t you?’

  He stepped inside. The room was warm, a fire blazing in the side of the stove. It was quiet too, no one there in fact, apart from Agnes.

  ‘I, um, wondered if Jeannie was free, only I haven’t seen her for a bit, and there’s a Hogmanay dance that I thought I’d invite her to go to.’

  ‘Oh, Tam, I’m sorry, but you’ve missed her. She went this afternoon.’

  Tam's heart sank. ‘Went where?’

  ‘Back home… to her parents. Neil took her down to the station in the wagon. By rights, she’s meant to have time off to return home every six months and this will be her first trip back. Her parents have likely been missing her.’

  Tam could hardly bring himself to speak. His voice sounded strangled. ‘So how long will she be away?’

  ‘Till after the New Year. The cows will miss her, mind. They’ve really taken to her gentle touch.’ She sighed. ‘We’ll all miss her.’

  Not as much as I will, Tam thought as he left the farmhouse, closing the door quietly behind him and trying to push the thought from his mind.

  *

  Jeannie felt the claustrophobia of the house as soon as she entered it. It was silent in the long hallway. A grandfather clock ticked in a slow bass note. The front door shut behind her with a slam and a few seconds later the kitchen door opened, her mother poking her head round it with a look of surprise.

  ‘Jean! How nice to see you.’ She came over and gave her daughter a peck on the cheek. ‘Come into the kitchen and see who’s here.’

  Colin, her younger brother, sat at the kitchen table. Jeannie ran to him and threw her arms round his neck.

  ‘Colin, I had no idea you were home. What a lovely surprise! How long have you got?’

  ‘Only another two days. And look at you, the new land girl.’

  Jeannie spun round to show him her uniform. ‘Not so new now,’ she laughed. ‘I joined in July. I’m an old hand now!’

  ‘And how is life on the farm?’ Colin asked. ‘All muck and mud and early mornings and late nights?’

  ‘That sounds about right. Certainly early mornings because I have to milk the cows and muck out the byre. They’re inside now that the weather is bad so that makes more work for us. The tattie and turnip harvesting was very muddy but great fun!’

  Her mother looked shocked. ‘Oh Jean. Don’t tell me you really prefer doing all that dirty work to your useful job at the library.’

  ‘Well, actually, yes, I do. This is a very useful job just at the moment. Everywhere we go we are being told to grow more. That’s what I’m helping to do. And remember, you and Father were telling me to give up my job in the library and come home.’

  ‘Yes, well. We thought the bombs were going to be falling on Glasgow. It seems, thankfully, that they are not. Anyway, why don’t the two of you go for a short walk while I get tea ready. Father is still in his study finishing tomorrow’s sermon, so he needs peace and quiet till that’s done.’

  Jeannie closed the door behind her and pulled a face at her brother. ‘She never changes,’ she whispered and stifled a giggle.

  ‘Nor does he,’ her brother added.

  ‘So how are things with you?’ she asked Colin as they strode along the road, battling against the cold easterly wind.

  ‘Pretty grim. I can cope with the army side of things – living together, obeying commands, keeping our shoes polished…’

  ‘Not so different from being here,’ Jeannie interrupted. Her brother laughed.

  ‘No, I suppose not. We’ve not seen much action yet. It’s all been preparation work along the French-Belgian border. Anyway, tell me more about yourself. It’s much more interesting. Is there just the one of you or do you have more girls working with you? And what about the farmers? What are they like?’

  ‘Well, I’m the only land girl on the farm. It’s a big farm and Mr Cunningham, the farmer, does talk about taking on another girl, but it hasn’t happened yet. Perhaps in spring when we start planting and lambing again, he may get another. He has a son, Neil. I don’t much like him but he’s a good farmer.’ She paused.

  ‘So how do you spend your time when you’re not working?’

  ‘There’s no’ so much of that. We work fifty hours a week in the summer, you know. And we’ve had evacuees staying for a time. I’ve lent a hand with them too, though strictly we’re not meant to be doing that. They’ve gone home now though.’ She paused. ‘Sometimes there’s a dance at the village hall. But only one since I’ve been there. Tam says they used to be once a month.’

  ‘Tam?’

  ‘He lives on a nearby farm with his dad and his brother. They’re tenant farmers; they rent the cottage and the land; they don’t own it.’

  ‘And you’re friendly with this Tam?’ Colin looked at his sister with a twinkle in his eye.

  Jeannie felt herself going red. ‘Well, kind of. At least I thought we were friends. But just recently he doesn’t seem so interested.’ She sighed. ‘He never says much, even if we go out for a walk together. I don’t really know what he thinks about me.’

  ‘The strong silent type. And what do you think about him?’

  ‘I like him a lot. But I’ll no’ make a fool of myself dreaming about him if he’s no’ interested.’

  ‘I can’t imagine him not being interested. Though you’re right – if he can’t see all the good things there are to see in you, then let him go.’

  *

  Once her brother had returned to his regiment, Jeannie had no desire to stay any longer with her parents. They seemed disappointed in her for the decision she had made and even now were making suggestions that she should come back and live at home and find a sensible job nearby. They seemed to derive no pleasure, however, in her company while she was there and she couldn’t see that it would improve by her moving back. So two days after her brother’s departure she made her excuses and caught the train back to Edinburgh and onward into the Southern Uplands. It felt like coming home. She intended to phone Rob and ask to be picked up, but a farming acquaintance was waiting for his wife who had been on the same train and offered her a lift into the valley.

  ‘Jeannie, lass.’ Rob’s face broke into a grin when he opened the door. ‘We weren’t expecting you yet. How did you get here? Come in, come in and sit yourself down. So what decided you to come back so soon? Missing us, were you?’

  ‘Jimmy Steel gave me a lift – he was meeting his wife at the station. And, aye, I was missing you, though don’t let it go to your head. It’s the cows I was missing really.’

  Rob laughed. ‘Well, they’ve certainly been missing you. In fact…’ He looked at the clock and nodded. ‘You’ve just time to milk them now while Agnes is getting tea ready. Are you happy with that idea, lass?’

  ‘Very hap
py. It’s good to be back. I’ll go and get changed and be out there in a jiffy.’

  Jeannie settled herself on the stool and began to milk the first cow. It was quiet in the byre and it felt good to be back doing the work she had grown to love. So absorbed was she in her work that she didn’t hear Neil entering by a side door. He stood behind her for a minute or two, then stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. She jumped violently and the cow, startled at the sudden movement, reacted likewise and kicked over the half-full bucket of milk.

  ‘Neil! What do you think you’re doing? Look what’s happened now. That wasn’t clever.’

  ‘Sorry! Sorry! I was only showing you how good it is to see you again.’ He stepped back and leant his elbows on the pen. ‘Couldn’t keep away from me, was that it?’ he smirked.

  ‘Don’t kid yourself, Neil Cunningham.’

  ‘Well, now that you’re here, perhaps you’d like to come to the Hogmanay dance with me.’

  ‘Thanks for the invitation, but I don’t think so.’ She took hold of the empty pail and stepped round to the cow's other flank, out of reach of Neil's hands.

  ‘I suppose you’re hoping that someone else might invite you. Well, take it from me, that’s not likely to happen.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. Why don’t you ask him yourself what he’s up to?’

  *

  Hogmanay came and went and there was no sign of Tam. Jeannie, by turns upset and angry, decided to take her brother’s advice and resolved to let him go. So she was more than a little surprised when, on the second evening of the New Year, there was a knock on the door of the farmhouse and Agnes opened it to Tam.

  ‘Come away in, Tam. A Happy New Year to you.’

  ‘And to all of you,’ Tam replied. ‘I’ve come to ask when…’ He halted when he saw Jeannie sitting at the table, a farming magazine spread out in front of her. ‘Jeannie. I thought you were still away. I was coming to find out what day you’d be back.’