‘Yes, Laura… I know, I know. I was really sorry about that, but there was nothing I could do. And Maisie didn’t seem to mind. The two of them got on very well together. Of course, I know that Laura can be rather obtuse at times, and I hadn’t told her that Maisie was anything other than a friend. At least, I was hoping she might be more than a friend, very soon… I’ve made a real mess of things, haven’t I?’
‘Nothing that can’t be put right,’ replied Bob. ‘By the way, I hope you don’t think I’m meddling? Well, I suppose I am really, but I happen to know how that young lass feels about you.’
‘You mean…she’s actually said so?’
‘Aye, she has. In confidence, like, but it’s a confidence I don’t mind breaking, not if it’ll make you come to your senses. She is very fond of you; she told me so herself…and that’s all I’m saying.’
Andy smiled. That was wonderful news to hear. ‘Will she be coming back, though, on the next tour?’ he asked.
‘I can’t say, Andy, and that’s the honest truth. There’s talk of Belgium and Brittany and God knows where else… I hear all the gossip from t’ other drivers.’
‘Do you know her address? She lives in Leeds, doesn’t she?’
‘I’m not right sure of it, but I can find out for you. It might be better to see her though. As far as I know she’s home at the weekends, preparing for her next jaunt.’
Andy knew there was no time to lose. His co-chef, Alistair, was coping very well, and the weekend, after the Galaxy tour departed, would not be too busy. Another coach tour was due in on Monday, from the Newcastle area, but he could be back by then.
‘Bob…would you have a spare seat on your coach?’ he asked. ‘If you do, then I’m coming back with you…’
‘Aye, plenty of room for a little ’un,’ laughed Bob.
Maisie paid the taxi fare, then let herself into her flat at six o’clock on Saturday evening. Shoes off and slippers on, then fill the kettle and make a cup of tea… Anything else could wait a while. She flopped into an armchair, only rising when she heard the whistle of the kettle. Then she sat down again and sipped at her tea, nibbling at a chocolate biscuit to satisfy her hunger until she felt like making a meal.
What an exciting few days it had been… She opened her travel bag and took out the guide to Belgium and the Netherlands. Next week she would be on her own in Belgium, without Trixie, looking at two hotels, one in Ostend and the other in the medieval city of Bruges. An hour later she was still sitting there, brought back to the here and now by a ring at the doorbell. She had recently moved to a ground floor flat and she hurried to the door. It might, of course, be someone coming to visit the upstairs tenant.
She gasped when she saw the figure standing on the doorstep. ‘Andy! Goodness me, Andy… I don’t believe it! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to find you, Maisie,’ he said. ‘I missed you, and there’s such a lot I want to say to you; lots of things I should have said before… Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
‘Of course,’ she laughed. ‘Come in, Andy. Oh, it’s so lovely to see you…’
He closed the door behind him and put his arms around her. Then he kissed her, their first real kiss, but Maisie knew it would be only the first of many more. And there was all the time in the world for what they needed to say to one another.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot, an’ never brought to min’?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, for the sake of Auld Lang Syne?’
Hogmanay was celebrated each year in the traditional manner at the Cameron Hotel, and this year Maisie was there to join in the festivities. Not as a courier, but as a guest of the family. There were no coach tours from England that would venture north of the border during the winter months, when they were liable to be caught in six-foot snowdrifts. But the local folk enjoyed the hospitality and friendliness of the Cameron family. They came back year after year, some staying for a night or two, and others from Callander itself just popping in for the excellent meal and, of course, the Hogmanay ritual.
Maisie had been enjoying a wonderful, magical time ever since the moment she had stepped off the train at Callander station and into Andy’s waiting arms. It had been three weeks since she had seen him. They had each spent Christmas with their own family and, before that, she had had her commitments with Galaxy to carry out. Falling in love could not be allowed to interfere with her work as a courier.
She had gone back to the Scottish tour, but there had been only two more tours before they came to an end at the beginning of October; and since then she had been involved in her job of appraising the hotels; Reims and Dijon, to sound out the possibility of a wine tour in France; Rouen and the chateaux of Normandy; she had even travelled as far as Remagen on the River Rhine and the Black Forest town of Freiburg.
The war had been over for ages, Henry had assured her, when she had, at first, hesitated at the idea of going to Germany, and we were now all the best of friends. And Maisie had found that it was so. She had been quite proficient at French when she was at school, and that language soon became familiar to her. German, though, was proving much more difficult, and so she had started taking lessons in the subject at night school. The Germans, by and large, spoke English fluently, but she was determined that she would learn to converse with them, and quite soon, too.
But there had been time in between her busy schedule for meeting with Andy. She had taken him to meet her family in Middlebeck; or, to be more accurate, he had taken her, in his car. That was yet another plan she had in mind for the coming year; to learn to drive and to buy her own little car. When she travelled up to Scotland it was by train, and their times together were, alas, soon over and too far apart.
They had both realised, though, that they were very much in love, and that it was a love that would last and last. As she sat with Andy, as part of a carefree laughing crowd, all waiting for the Hogmanay tradition to be acted out, she reflected on the past year, 1950, and the sorrows and heartaches, followed by the joys, that it had brought, especially the happy events of the past few months.
The most memorable of all had been her reunion with Andy at the beginning of September, and the blissful weekend that had followed. They had declared their love for one another…but there were certain things that would have to wait until such time as they could be together for always. Someday, sometime, not too far distant, she hoped…
There had been joyful events in Middlebeck too. Audrey’s baby girl had been born on the first day of October. The christening had taken place during the Sunday morning service on Christmas Eve, and the congregation had rejoiced at the welcoming of the newest member into the Christian family. Wendy Patricia, as she was called, was by that time a bonny round-faced child with her mother’s fair hair and blue eyes, staring around and smiling at familiar faces. Her godmothers were Maisie and Doris – who was now the mother of two boys, Benjamin and Daniel – and, to the surprise of many, Brian Milner was the godfather.
There had been a few raised eyebrows, and no doubt people were jumping, wrongly, to their own conclusions. But Brian had seemed oblivious to what folk might be thinking. It was clear, though, to anyone who was watching, that his care and attention were focused just as much on Audrey as on her baby daughter.
Patience had held a buffet lunch afterwards at the Rectory, and it was then that two more items of news had been disclosed. Rebecca Tremaine announced that Bruce, that Christmastime, would become engaged to Yvonne, a young lady who worked in a Paris hotel, and whom she and Archie had already met and liked very much.
And Anne – now Ellison – announced, with pink cheeks and loving glances at her husband, that she and Roger were expecting a happy event sometime in June. Her teaching career would come to an end when the school finished for Easter.
‘You will miss teaching, won’t you?’ said Maisie, when she went to visit her at the schoolhouse soon after Christmas. ‘At first, I mean,
but then I dare say you will be too busy with the baby to even give it a thought.’
‘Yes…we couldn’t afford to waste any time, Maisie,’ she said, a little self-consciously, ‘about – you know – about me…conceiving, because I’m already thirty-six; I’ll be thirty-seven before the baby arrives, and Roger is turned forty. And we would like to have another one, God willing.’
‘You’ll be fine, I’m sure,’ said Maisie. ‘You’re fit and healthy, aren’t you?’
‘Yes; I’ve never felt better. It will be a wrench at first, not going in to school every day after all these years, but Roger has someone in mind to fill my post. Not as head of Infants – that will have to be sorted out internally – but as an ordinary teacher. Someone that you know…’
‘Do you mean… Audrey?’
‘Yes; that is who he had in mind. Not just yet, of course, but…eventually.’
‘Mmm… She did very well, didn’t she, in her final exams, in spite of circumstances being against her? Two As and a B; a very good result for anyone. But she wouldn’t want to leave little Wendy. From what I can see she adores her.’
‘No, not yet; but by September Wendy will be nearly a year old… And plans are afoot to have a nursery unit in Miss Thomson’s old house. You heard about that, Maisie, didn’t you? About Miss Thomson leaving her property to the school?’
‘Of course I did. That was a bolt from the blue, all right. Good old Amelia! And she used to be such an old dragon; she didn’t seem to like kids at all.’
‘Oh, I’ve seen her standing by the hedge,’ said Anne, ‘watching them in the playground, even smiling to herself sometimes. There was a softer side to her, and a generous side as well.’
‘It’s no use to her after she’s dead, though…’
Anne smiled. ‘No, that’s true. She left the house to the school to use in any way they think fit. It’s for the Education Committee to decide, of course, but Roger has been consulted. As I said, they are considering a nursery unit, and up-to-date Education offices; they are rather cramped at the moment. It will need a lot of money spending on it, but it is a basically solid house… And you knew about Audrey’s legacy too, I suppose?’
‘Yes; I was really pleased about that,’ said Maisie. ‘Miss Thomson became very fond of Audrey. I’m glad Audrey’s…er…condition didn’t make her change her mind. Yes, it showed that her heart was in the right place after all.’ Miss Thomson had left legacies of five hundred pounds to Audrey, and to Daisy, who had been a loyal maid to her for many years, and to Mrs Kitson, Daisy’s mother, who had been her daily help ever since Daisy had left the area. The residue of the money she had left to St Bartholomew’s church.
‘It was sad the way she died,’ said Anne. ‘Roger and I didn’t know until we got back from our honeymoon; it was thoughtful of everyone not to tell us… And we were relieved that Charity was not held responsible.’ The result of the inquest had been that it was a tragic accident and that no blame at all was attached to the driver of the car. ‘It has made her rather more aware though,’ Anne added.
‘Is Miss Foster still driving?’ asked Maisie.
‘Yes, she’s started again. She vowed she never would, but she’s got guts, has Charity. She’s driving with due care and attention now, though, I’m pleased to say.’
‘That is something I intend to do next year,’ said Maisie. ‘I must learn to drive, and buy a little car, of course. It will make it so much easier if I can drive up to Scotland instead of using the train.’
‘You are a very busy young woman,’ remarked Anne. ‘And you are seeing a lot of the world. That is what you had in mind when you were still at school, wasn’t it, to widen your horizons? And to think that I have never even been abroad…’ she added thoughtfully, ‘and I am not likely to do now, not for a good while at any rate.’
‘You will one day,’ said Maisie with a confident nod. ‘It’s a changing world, Anne. Henry – that’s my boss – says that in ten years’ time or so we’ll all be nipping on and off aeroplanes as though they were buses.’
Anne laughed. ‘That remains to be seen. I’m quite content with Middlebeck at the moment; more than content, in fact…’ She smiled serenely. ‘And what about you, Maisie? Do you and Andy have any plans? Anything…imminent, I mean?’
Maisie, also, gave a smile of contentment. ‘We are just happy to have found one another. At the moment I am enjoying my work; it’s exciting; full of surprises, and there’s always a new adventure around the next corner; and Andy has always enjoyed what he does… Eventually, yes, we will be together, and when that happens it will be for always, we both know that. But for now we are enjoying the present time. We make the most of every day and hour we spend together, and it’s great to know that it’s for keeps…’
Andy squeezed her hand. ‘You were miles away, darling. Where were you?’
‘Oh…just thinking,’ she replied. ‘Thinking how lucky we are. It has been a wonderful evening, Andy. I didn’t know much at all about the Scottish New Year until now. You certainly go to town with your celebrations, don’t you?’
There had been a magnificent banquet, preceded by Gordon Cameron playing the bagpipes; ‘Flowers of the Forest’, ‘Eriskay Love Lilt’, and ‘Ye Banks and Braes’. At least, Maisie had thought she recognised those melodies, although she had to admit that they all sounded pretty much the same. He hadn’t ‘piped in the haggis’, Andy explained; that ceremony took place only on Burns’ Night on the twenty-fifth of January, but haggis had been included on the menu.
The meal had started with a small portion of that dish; Maisie had found it to be an acquired taste, but she was getting to enjoy it more now. It had been followed by scotch broth; then roast beef for the main course, cooked to perfection in the way she was sure only Andy could do it; and finishing with Queen Mary’s tart, a confection of puffed pastry filled with a sweet mixture of eggs, butter, sugar and sultanas, served with an apricot sauce and cream. Truly delicious…
They had danced, she and Andy had sung together, they had watched the local troupe of Scottish dancers who performed there regularly, joining in finally with the familiar reels and jigs; and all the time the whisky and ale had flowed freely.
Now they were awaiting the culmination of the evening’s celebrations which would take place when the midnight hour had struck. They listened to Gordon counting down the seconds till twelve o’clock…then there was a deafening cheer and shouts of ‘Happy Hogmanay…’
Andy put his arms around Maisie and kissed her, a kiss more of friendship, though, at that moment, than passion. There would be time enough for that later; they were good friends as well as being very much in love.
‘Duncan Macleod is doing the honours for us,’ Andy told her when they had all settled down again. ‘He’s an old friend of my father, and he’s dark-haired, as he should be, o’ course. He’s still got his black hair even though he’s approaching sixty.’
‘So you wouldn’t be able to do it, would you?’ said Maisie, touching his fair hair. ‘It’s tradition, is it, that the first person to cross the threshold should be dark? Come to think of it, I’ve an idea they still do that in some parts of England.’
‘Aye, in Northumberland mebbe; they’re no so far away. Aye, a dark man, and one who is not a member of the family, so that rules out me and my father as well. Here comes Duncan now…’
There was another cheer as the black-haired man, dressed in the yellow and black tartan of the Macleod clan, entered the room. He carried with him a small loaf of bread, a canister of salt, and a piece of coal, which he placed on a table at the front of the room.
‘Happy Hogmanay…’ he called, and ‘Happy Hogmanay…’ they all replied.
‘The symbols of life, hospitality and warmth,’ said Andy. ‘It’s a guid auld tradition, and I’m so happy you are here to share it with me. A Happy New Year, darling, and may we have many, many more of them together.’
‘A Happy New Year, Andy,’ she echoed. Then he kissed her again.
We’ll tak’ a cup of kindness yet, for the sake of Auld Lang Syne.’
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About the Author
MARGARET THORNTON was born in Blackpool and has lived there all her life. She was a teacher for many years but retired early in order to concentrate on writing. She has had twenty novels published.
By Margaret Thornton
Above the Bright Blue Sky
Down an English Lane
A True Love of Mine
Remember Me
Until We Meet Again
Time Goes By
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
12 Fitzroy Mews
London W1T 6DW
www.allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2006.
This ebook edition first published in 2014.
Copyright © 2006 by MARGARET THORNTON
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Down an English Lane Page 45