When the Heather Blooms

by Gwen Kirkwood

  ‘That’s what he said himself!’ Catriona exclaimed. ‘It’s how I felt too. As long as I live I shall never forget that one night we spent together.’ Her eyes were brilliant with memories. Then the shadows returned. ‘The next morning Mark was full of concern. He said he could never regret what we had done but as soon as he could get leave we must be married …’ Her voice grew husky and her eyes held a faraway look. ‘There was all that business with Dunkirk … Y-you know the rest,’ she said her throat choked with tears.

  ‘Yes,’ Victoria said, ‘Mark died with so many others. I-I had had a feeling he would not return but it was still a dreadful shock when Doctor Grantly came to tell me.’ She took Catriona’s limp hand in hers. ‘It must have been worse for you.’

  ‘Doctor Grantly telephoned my father to ask him to break the news of Mark’s death.’ Catriona nodded. Her eyes had a faraway look. ‘I fainted. I’d never fainted in my life.’ She drew her free hand across her brow. ‘Deane was in the next room. My father panicked and called him in. He …’

  The door of the little room was thrust open. They both stared in surprise.

  ‘Deane! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be taking surgery this morning?’ Victoria met the cold blue gaze of the man who towered over them. He had a thatch of thick hair which had once been fair and was now almost steel grey.

  ‘I must ask you to leave at once. You are upsetting my wife.’

  ‘B-but Deane, this is …’

  ‘I know who she is. She is the image of – of Mark. His words were clipped. He stared at Victoria. ‘I know what is best for my wife. I don’t know how you found her or why you came, but I’m telling you it is time to leave.’

  ‘No!’ Catriona’s hand tightened on Victoria’s fingers as she would have risen from her chair. ‘I asked Victoria to come, Deane. I needed to talk with her.’

  ‘You have talked with her. It’s time for you to rest, my dear.’ The endearment held no warmth, Victoria thought.

  ‘I shall soon be at rest for ever,’ Catriona reminded him. ‘Victoria and I still have things to discuss.’ Victoria was conscious of the sister hovering in the doorway.

  ‘Catriona, I will leave you with your husband for a little while,’ she said, ‘but I will come back in before I leave. I promise.’ She stood up and faced Doctor Deane Sterling. She knew in that instant she did not like him. She guessed he was a man used to having his own way. ‘Doctor Sterling I have travelled a long way to see Catriona today. Since you interrupted our conversation I shall return when you have gone. Is that what you wish me to do, Catriona?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes.’ There was desperation in her eyes.

  ‘Then I shall return in about ten minutes.’ Catriona nodded and gave a wan smile. As Victoria closed the door behind her she heard Deane Sterling snap, ‘you haven’t mentioned the boy, I trust.’

  What boy? Victoria wondered. It didn’t sound as though Doctor Sterling was referring to their son, so who did he mean?

  Chapter Two

  The sister seemed reluctant to leave Catriona’s room but Victoria closed the door behind them and asked, ‘Where could I get a cup of tea please?’

  ‘You should do as Doctor Sterling says and leave the hospital.’

  ‘I will deal with this, Sister. I believe you are off duty now.’

  ‘Oh, Matron, I didn’t know you were up here.’ Sister Wilson was flustered.

  ‘So I’ve gathered. It was not your place to inform Doctor Sterling that his wife had a visitor, especially one she has been anxious to see …’

  ‘But she was upset and he …’

  ‘We shall speak about this tomorrow. You may go now.’ She waited until the other woman was descending the flight of stairs then she turned to Victoria with a smile.

  ‘Come with me, my dear. I believe you are from Dumfriesshire?’

  ‘Yes, my name is Victoria Pringle. I have no wish to upset Mrs Sterling but she wrote to me, asking me to visit.’

  ‘I know, and I am pleased you have come. I’m sure you realise Catriona is very ill but I think your visit may bring her peace of mind. I was a sister in the hospital where she trained. We lost touch for many years but we have had several conversations while she has been in our care. I know how much she needed to talk with you. Nurse!’ she called. One of the younger nurses appeared from a room further along the corridor. ‘Show Mrs Pringle where she can wash her hands, then take her into my sitting room, please. Bring a tray of tea then go down to the canteen and see if you can get some sandwiches …’

  ‘Oh please don’t bother. I brought a packet of sandwiches with me but I would be very grateful for some tea.’ Victoria smiled at them. Matron nodded her head and returned her smile.

  ‘I met your brother when he was a young doctor. Your smile reminded me of him. I trained with a nurse who moved to Dumfriesshire. She married a Doctor. Anna Grantly is her married name.’

  ‘You knew Mrs Grantly? How strange. The Grantlys were wonderful to Mark, my brother. We all miss Doctor Grantly, and we shall miss his wife too when she moves away.’

  ‘Anna is a widow now?’

  ‘Yes, she is moving to live nearer her married daughter.’

  ‘I see. If you will excuse me I will deal with Doctor Sterling while you enjoy a cup of tea. I shall come and tell you when Catriona is ready to see you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Victoria nodded and followed the nurse.

  Doctor Deane Sterling was reluctant to leave his wife’s room but he had duties of his own and Matron was firm in her insistence that Catriona was her patient.

  ‘You look exhausted, my dear,’ Matron said when they were alone. ‘Do you wish me to send Mrs Pringle away for today?’

  ‘Oh no! We were getting on so well when Deane interrupted.’ She sighed and rubbed her brow. ‘He tires me so. I know he means well but he is so – so …’

  ‘Dictatorial,’ matron supplied with a wry smile.

  ‘Yes, that’s it.’

  ‘Have you told him I know about your son?’

  ‘No, and he will never forgive me if I tell Victoria but I owe it to her and to Peter. She is kind and sensible and she loved Mark. I wish she could have met Peter but she has booked a taxi to take her back to the station. He will still be in school when she leaves.’

  ‘I could telephone the school and ask the headmaster if Peter can be allowed out an hour earlier. I know Doctor Sterling doesn’t agree but I’m sure it would be better if his teachers understood that you are gravely ill, my dear.’

  ‘Could you do that?’ Catriona asked. ‘Do you think they would agree? I don’t want Peter to think I am worse though …’

  ‘Just leave it to me, Catriona. I’ll see what I can do. Now I will ask the staff nurse to set up another drip before I bring Mrs Pringle back in to see you.’

  ‘You’re so understanding …’ Catriona sighed.

  ‘That’s what friends are for, and we all need friends at a time like this.’

  A little while later Matron led Victoria back to Catriona’s room.

  ‘You will not be disturbed again. Ring the bell if you need anything.’

  ‘Where were we?’ Catriona murmured. ‘It was too bad of Deane to interrupt like that, and Sister Wilson is an interfering busybody.’

  ‘You were telling me about your father breaking the news of Mark’s death, and how you fainted,’ Victoria prompted.

  ‘Yes I was. Did I say my father called Deane in? No, I didn’t finish that bit.’ She grimaced. ‘Deane guessed what was wrong with me but he didn’t mention it to my father.’ Her tone was bitter as she added, ‘he saw his chance and he seized it.’

  ‘What do you mean, Catriona?’ Victoria was puzzled.

  ‘Later Deane told me he had wanted to marry me from the first time he came to our house. I was just starting my nursing training and he was ten years older than me so he felt he had to wait. He hadn’t bargained for me falling in love with Mark but when he saw us together he knew. Then … when my father told him Mark
had been killed in action he – he persuaded me that it would be better if we married as soon as possible “in the circumstances”. You see, he realised I had fainted because I was expecting Mark’s child and …’ Victoria gasped aloud.

  ‘You were having Mark’s baby?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t care about not being married or the baby or anything else. Mark was dead and I wanted to die too.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Victoria murmured and clasped her hand.

  ‘I should have known you would.’ Catriona’s voice shook. ‘I should have come to you. Deane took charge of everything. He reckoned I owed it to my father to avoid gossip. The following months were a nightmare. They’re still a blur.’ She shuddered. ‘Deane said if we were married straight away people would think the baby was his, even if it was premature.’ She gave a harsh laugh. ‘Later I realised he didn’t care about my father’s patients and their gossip, or my feelings. He wanted to make me his wife but I-I couldn’t … Even after Peter was born I couldn’t bear Deane to touch me. It –it was like a betrayal to Mark. That’s the way I felt. I think I wavered on the edge of a breakdown for the first two years but having Mark’s son to love kept me sane. I admit Deane was patient then. Peter was about three years old before – before … it was a proper marriage. Deane knew I didn’t love him. I told him from the beginning I could never love anyone as I loved Mark. That’s why he didn’t want me to keep in touch with you, or with the Grantlys. He wanted me to put the past behind us.’

  ‘Oh Catriona …’ Victoria’s voice shook. ‘If only we had known. So – so your son? He is not your husband’s child?’

  ‘Peter? Oh no, he’s not Deane’s son. Mark always said if he ever had a son he would call him Peter after Doctor Grantly because he had been like a father to him. I had my way over that. I christened him Peter Mark, but Sterling is the surname on his birth certificate. Deane did treat him as his own son at first, but when he had a child of his own there was a subtle change. It was more noticeable when we had another daughter. I think Deane had hoped for a boy.’

  ‘I see …’ Victoria said. ‘How do they get on now, Peter and your husband?’ Catriona was silent for so long Victoria thought she was not going to answer. She gnawed at her lower lip.

  ‘We all thought Peter would be a doctor,’ she burst out. ‘I was as much to blame as anyone. My father was a doctor, Mark was a doctor, and Deane. I had been a nurse. I loved it. It never occurred to me that Peter wouldn’t want the same sort of profession.’

  ‘He must be what? Sixteen years old? Surely he’s too young to know what he wants?’ Victoria said.

  ‘He’s adamant that he will not be a doctor. He was doing well at school but when Deane started talking about where he should go to university he announced that he didn’t want to study medicine. He says he intends to leave school at the end of the summer term. He and Deane argue all the time now …’ Catriona’s eyes filled with tears and she reached for a tissue. ‘He’s so unhappy,’ she sobbed. ‘I-I can’t bear it. He knows I’m dying. Who will stick up for him then? I have tried to reason with Deane. If a man doesn’t want to be a doctor is it wise to make him? If his heart is not in it how could he be a good doctor? Deane says he’ll make him see sense. He’s determined to make him a doctor. He says he bears his name and he should be proud of it.’

  ‘What does Peter want to do?’ Victoria’s voice was troubled.

  ‘He thinks he would like to live in the country. He always wanted pets and Deane would never agree to have animals in the house. Yet Peter wants to work with animals. Deane says it’s just romantic nonsense. He gets so furious. Peter becomes stubborn; he takes off on his bicycle for the whole day on Saturdays and during the holidays.’

  ‘I see …’ Victoria was thinking of her own dreams of making Libby have a career as a teacher. She had been disappointed when she had insisted on going to agricultural college instead, but Libby had done well and she enjoyed her work and her training would be useful. ‘We don’t always know what is best for them, even though they are our children,’ she said to Catriona. She told her about Libby. Then it dawned on her. ‘Libby and Peter are cousins! And Fraser and Lachie …’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Catriona said.

  ‘Perhaps a love of the countryside is in their blood. My father, Mark’s father, he was a countryman before he went away to war. I love the countryside. I’d hate to live in a city.’

  ‘Just as I would have hated to live in the country,’ Catriona smiled.

  ‘Perhaps Peter could come down to stay with us during the holidays? It might help him decide whether he likes the country or if it’s a dream. He may decide he wants to be a doctor after all.’

  ‘Ye-es,’ Catriona said. ‘Maybe Deane would agree to him coming to stay with you if he thought it would rid him of his romantic ideas? And – and I know he will grieve when I’m gone. I would like to think he had someone of his own to care about him. That’s why I needed to talk to you, Victoria. I know it is a lot to ask, but if you would write to him sometimes, remind him he does have an aunt and cousins, perhaps?’

  ‘Of course and I’m sure if he would like to …’ Victoria broke off as the door opened and a dark-haired boy peeped into the room, a smile lighting his face as his eyes met Catriona’s. He came right in then. Victoria stared at him. He was a slighter version of Fraser, her son. She looked again and saw he was gazing at her, his brown eyes wide and questioning.

  ‘This is your Aunt Victoria, Peter,’ Catriona said. ‘Your father’s twin sister.’

  ‘My real father.’ It was not a question. He came to her and held out a hand. ‘Aunt Victoria,’ he repeated savouring the name. His smile grew wider. ‘I am truly glad to meet you.’ Victoria stood up and before she had time to consider she had enveloped him in a warm embrace. Her eyes shone with tears as she met Catriona’s gaze over his shoulder. ‘You’re so like my own son, Fraser, and so very like Mark was when he was a boy.’

  ‘Am I?’ he asked eagerly.

  ‘You are. You must come down and meet your cousins.’ Victoria watched as the light died from his thin face. His gaze moved to his mother.

  ‘I am sure it can be arranged, Peter,’ she assured him. ‘It will soon be Christmas and I would like you to spend this holiday at home, but perhaps you could go to visit during your Easter holidays?’

  ‘You think he would agree?’ he asked.

  ‘Victoria has suggested a way of putting it to him. There is something else before you go to catch your train, Victoria. Mark took out a life insurance before he went to the war. He had named me as his beneficiary. I hope you don’t mind? You were his next of kin.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind. You were the one he loved and his wife in every way that counts.’

  ‘Thank you for that,’ Catriona said and reached for her hand. ‘I put the money in a trust account. It’s for Peter but when I’m not here Deane will have control. I had expected he would need it for his education. If I can I would like to change it into your name. It is not a huge sum but you would understand if Peter needed it for something worthwhile.’

  ‘He may still need it for his education even if he’s not a doctor,’ Victoria said. She gave Peter a teasing smile. ‘Even farmers need some education these days, you know, so be sure and do as well as you can while you are at school. It will not be wasted. My daughter and her husband both went to an agricultural college. Now it’s time I went if I am to catch the train home.’

  ‘But you will not mind if I contact my solicitor and – and explain?’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to come between Peter and Deane,’ Victoria said, ‘but I promise I shall do my best to see that Peter is happy in whatever he chooses to do.’ She bent and kissed Catriona’s pale cheek. She saw her chin tremble and knew she was holding on to her tears with an effort. ‘Come and show me the way out will you, Peter? Please?’ She knew Catriona needed time to regain control. It also gave her an opportunity to write down her address and telephone number. She had a feeling Pe
ter was going to need a friend in the weeks and months ahead. She hoped Andrew would help her give Mark’s son whatever support he might need.

  Victoria felt drained and her head was thumping by the time the train drew into Lockerbie that November evening. She knew it was the strain of travelling. She was not familiar with railway stations. She had been terrified of getting on the wrong train at Edinburgh and ending up in some far flung place she had never heard of. Meeting Catriona after so long, and then to find her so ill, had been distressing. Then there was the discovery of a nephew she had known nothing about. She was anxious about his future with Deane Sterling. Officially Peter was the doctor’s son, so he would have authority over him. Her thoughts were in turmoil and she almost fell into Andrew’s arms when the train drew into Lockerbie station.

  The November days were short and cold and a damp mist had swirled in as darkness fell. All Victoria craved was a hot cup of tea and an early night. It was a relief to tumble into bed and snuggle into Andrew’s familiar embrace. On the way home from the station she had given him a sketchy report of the day’s events. Now she answered his questions about Peter and about Doctor Deane Sterling. His arms tightened.

  ‘Don’t worry, Vicky. If the laddie has half the character of you and Mark he will be a survivor. His life could never be as hard as yours was.’

  ‘No but I had your mother and father and I knew they loved me and wanted me. I’m almost certain Deane Sterling doesn’t love Peter, and I’m not even sure he will want him unless he agrees to become a doctor. He expects to be in control.’

  ‘Well, we know it’s not possible to control a youngster who has the courage to make his – or her – own decisions. We’ll invite Peter to stay with us at Easter. He will get to know us, and our way of life. It will give him new horizons and time and space to think. If he wants to return here during the summer holidays we shall make him welcome. We must take one step at a time.’

  ‘Oh Andrew, it is a relief to know you feel like that about Mark’s son.’