When the Heather Blooms

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When the Heather Blooms Page 11

by Gwen Kirkwood


  ‘You’ll feel as though you have been teaching all your life by the time Christmas comes,’ he told her during the first difficult weeks.

  ‘I don’t think I could have continued without your encouragement,’ she said as they drove down to Home Farm together at the start of the Christmas holidays.

  The extension to Langmune Farmhouse was almost complete and Victoria insisted she would make Christmas dinner for all the family.

  ‘We have so many nursemaids for Molly she’s getting spoiled,’ she laughed, ‘and Julie Dunlop is a treasure. We shall celebrate Christmas and the completion of our house,’ Victoria smiled. ‘I never thought I should see Langmune restored to its former glory but it’s beautiful now. Andrew, I think Mr Rennie and Miss Traill would have approved.’ She reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘You’re a good husband.’

  ‘It’s a good thing we made the doors as wide as the old castle doors or I’d never get my head through,’ Andrew chuckled.

  Peter received a Christmas card from Cathy which she had made herself, but he did not hear anything from Dinah, nor from Deane Sterling. He looked forward to getting Cathy’s letters but he was becoming more interested in the progress of Mimi and Lachie than in his sister Dinah’s achievements. Mimi was finding the Academy rather daunting with all the moving from room to room for different classes, carrying books, and travelling on the bus. She was often exhausted at the end of the day. Lachie, on the other hand, thrived on the stimulation and the variety of subjects.

  ‘Lachie is clever,’ Mimi confided to Peter. ‘He loves science and I can’t keep up with him.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mimi,’ Peter said. He hated to see the shadows in her big blue eyes. ‘I’ll come over each weekend and explain things if you tell me what you’re doing. I liked science when I was at school but I had to work hard at French.’

  ‘Oh, that’s like Lachie. I like French and I love my English teacher.’ Peter smiled down at her eager, expressive face and he was pleased to see the sparkle back in her eyes. It seemed a long time since he’d left school and yet it was no time at all. He kept his promise and each weekend he went over to High Bowie and helped Mimi get to grips with her science projects.

  He had moved back into his new bedroom at Langmune and he now owned a decent bicycle, almost as good as the one his stepfather had sold. He loved being able to explore the surrounding countryside. Everything was new to him and sometimes he cycled for miles on his free weekend. One weekend, in search of shade, he was cycling along a track in a large wood when he came upon an elderly man who had taken a tumble from his horse. Peter suspected he was trespassing on private property but he couldn’t leave the man lying there. Peter crouched beside him, noting the beads of sweat on his brow.

  ‘You must be in pain? Can I help you?’

  ‘It was my damned horse. Shied at a blasted rabbit …’ He was holding his thigh and trying to sit up. Peter helped him to a sitting position and dragged a small log nearer as a back rest. ‘Think I’ve broken my leg …’ the man wheezed.

  ‘I’ll fetch help,’ Peter said. ‘Can you tell me where we are? I’ve lost my bearings.’ The man eyed him quizzically in spite of his pain.

  ‘You’re not from this area, are you? What’s your name?’ Peter told him and explained that he was living at Langmune with his aunt and uncle prior to going to college. The man nodded, interest and pain vying with each other on his ruddy face.

  ‘If you take the right fork about twenty yards ahead and keep straight on it will bring you to Croston House. My name is Gerald. Ask for Mrs Phillips, the housekeeper. Explain what’s happened and where to find me. She’ll organise some help.’

  Peter followed the man’s instructions and gave the message to the housekeeper, but he returned to the man and waited with him until help arrived, answering his questions to try and take his mind off his injuries. Later he recounted his adventure during the meal at Langmune. Andrew’s eyes opened wide and then he began to smile.

  ‘It sounds as though you rescued Sir Gerald Croston. He owns the Croston Estate.’

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Peter exclaimed. ‘No wonder the housekeeper gave me a strange look when I told her I had found Mr Gerald. She said Mr Gerald was away abroad. I had difficulty convincing her that the man was injured and needed help. That’s why I went back to stay with him.’

  ‘The housekeeper would be thinking of Sir Gerald Croston’s son. I believe he is called Gerald too.’

  ‘I see …’ Peter nodded but he thought no more about it.

  Occasionally Fraser accompanied Peter on his rides. The two got on well together and they both enjoyed the Young Farmers’ Club meetings. The other members often joked about Peter’s low scores in the stock judging competitions but he never took offence.

  He listened, asked questions, and watched. His scores improved. Willie told him he was getting an eye for a good beast, at least as far as sheep were concerned. Libby coached him in the finer points of a good dairy cow until he could at least hold his own with Fraser, who was a reasonable judge if not the best. Peter had set himself to work for two years before going to college in order to earn enough money, but he was enjoying the work and he knew the practical experience would be valuable when he had to look for a permanent job away from Langmune. He told no one of his dream to have animals himself one day, however small his farm had to be.

  Charlotte’s probationary year in teaching drew to a close. She had applied for, and been appointed to a job in Glasgow, starting in September nineteen fifty-nine. It was near enough for her to travel from her flat and she hoped Josh’s visits would continue, and maybe become more frequent. They often travelled down to Darlonachie together and she knew Polly had accepted her as Josh’s friend but she still sensed a restraint in him. She knew the reason but she didn’t know how to put things right or move them on. They had reached a crossroads.

  Libby was sure Charlotte loved Josh. Like her grandmother she was impatient for their relationship to progress. She had found true happiness with Billy. She knew beyond doubt that he loved her and that their love had helped him banish most of the shadows of his earlier life. Maybe Uncle Josh would do the same for Charlotte.

  ‘Now that you’re a qualified teacher, Charlotte,’ Libby began hesitantly, ‘Do you think … I mean you do still see a lot of Uncle Josh when you are both in Glasgow, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do. He has been a real help and a true friend,’ Charlotte nodded.

  ‘A-a friend? Is that all he is?’ She couldn’t hide her disappointment. The two of them were preparing vegetables for lunch and Libby glanced sideways and saw the pink in Charlotte’s cheeks, the wistful look in her eyes, and the way she chewed at her lower lip.

  ‘You’ve seen how good Josh is with children, even with wee Molly,’ she said at last. ‘He deserves a family of his own.’

  ‘So? What’s stopping him having a family – with you as their mama? You love children, Charlotte. I’ve seen the look on your face when you cuddle Molly, and I’ve seen how patient you are at playing games with Mimi and Lachie.’

  ‘Josh knows I shall never have children. He knows I shall never marry,’ Charlotte said in a rush.

  ‘Never marry? Oh, Charlotte, you can’t mean that.’

  ‘I do, and your Uncle Josh knows that’s how I feel. I-I keep expecting that he will find someone to be his wife and to give him children and then …’

  ‘But he never looks at anyone else. What makes you say you will never marry?’ Libby asked in bewilderment.

  ‘Because – because I couldn’t bear to treat Josh as my mother treated my father, and … and drive him into the arms of another woman. I-I would rather have the friendship we have now. I could never risk spoiling that.’

  ‘But you do love Uncle Josh?’

  ‘Love?’ Charlotte echoed. ‘How do I know what love is? I’ve never known love, not even from my own mother.’ She was speaking quickly, a swift torrent of words which took Libby by surprise and kept her silent. ‘How co
uld I be sure that what I feel for Josh is love? How do I know I could endure all the – the painful intimacies a wife is supposed to endure to give a man pleasure and keep him loyal? What if I’m like my mother? She never allowed my father back into her bed after she had me. She told me so. Could he be blamed for finding his pleasure with Billy’s mother?’

  ‘No, no, Charlotte. Don’t get upset,’ Libby said as Charlotte stifled a sob. ‘I’ve always thought Uncle Josh hadn’t asked you to marry him because he thinks he is too old for you and – and because your background is so different to his. I-I mean you were born in a castle and he was born in the gardener’s cottage and he’ll never forget that.’

  ‘That’s rubbish!’ Charlotte stared at Libby. Then she gave a harsh laugh. ‘Josh is far above me in every way.’

  ‘Does he know you don’t want to get married?’

  ‘Yes. I told him.’

  ‘Does he know why? How your mother has poisoned your mind against men?’

  ‘Of course not!’ Charlotte’s eyes widened at the thought.

  ‘I think you ought to tell him the reason. You owe him that after he has been such a true friend to you.’

  ‘I couldn’t! We-we don’t talk about – about such things.’

  ‘Then it’s time you did. Is that why you think you will never have children?’

  ‘Oh no.’ Charlotte frowned. ‘I don’t think it’s advisable for me to have a child after being so bad with the tuberculosis, but in any case I wouldn’t want any child to inherit my mother’s vindictive nature. She was so mean and spiteful the world is a better place without such people.’

  ‘I see …’ Libby said, ‘but surely …’

  ‘No!’ Charlotte shook her head. ‘I’d never risk it. You don’t know how awful my childhood was.’

  ‘Well even if you don’t want children it doesn’t stop you getting married to someone if you love him and if he loves you. Does Uncle Josh know your views?’

  ‘He knows I don’t want children. He – he seemed to understand and agree, at least about taking risks with my health.’

  ‘Well then …?’ Libby smiled. ‘What’s to stop the two of you getting married and not having children? You love Uncle Josh, don’t you, Charlotte?’

  ‘Yes, yes I do. But when people get married and love each other the children follow.’

  ‘Not if you don’t want them. Not these days.’

  ‘I-I don’t understand …?’ Charlotte frowned. ‘It’s natural.’

  ‘I think you should tell Uncle Josh how your mother has influenced your views about men. Being married to the man you love is the most wonderful thing on earth, believe me, Charlotte. And there’s nothing to endure. Women get as much pleasure as men. Please be honest with Uncle Josh. I’ll bet he knows how to prevent you having babies after being in the RAF. Anyway, you can buy a book about it now, and you can go to the family planning clinic. I’ve learned a lot since I married Billy. You could call yourself Mrs Crainby and no one would know you in Glasgow.’

  ‘Is that true?’ Charlotte stared at Libby. ‘Is that why you and Billy haven’t had a baby?’

  ‘It was. I didn’t want a baby until I had worked for a year, but we both wanted to be married and …’ Libby blushed. ‘Well you know … But – but we’re having a baby now – at least we are in six months’ time but only Mum and Dad know yet, so please don’t tell anyone, Charlotte.’

  ‘Oh Libby, that’s wonderful news.’ Charlotte hugged her.

  ‘Mmm, we think so. Promise me you and Josh will have a talk, a proper talk, holding nothing back. Invite him to a romantic dinner for two or something. Anything so long as you get things straightened out in your own head, Charlotte.’

  ‘I’ll see …’ Charlotte said, but her mind was buzzing.

  The more Charlotte thought about her conversation with Libby the more her resolve hardened. As soon as she returned to Glasgow at the end of her summer holidays she made plans. Josh had already returned to work and she was due to start her new job in two days’ time. She telephoned to invite him for dinner at her flat.

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Josh said in surprise. He knew how diffident Charlotte was about her cooking skills. Her repertoire was limited but she had been practising and she had discovered she enjoyed creating appetising dishes. She followed Libby’s advice and concentrated on a simple meal, starting with Josh’s favourite lentil soup made to his mother’s recipe. She had prepared a beef casserole with plenty of vegetables, and for dessert she had made a trifle which Libby insisted was his favourite sweet. She had also bought a bottle of wine to go with the meal. Everything was ready and the table set, including two long ivory candles in the silver candlesticks salvaged from the sale of her family’s possessions.

  She ran upstairs to soak in a scented bath; on the bed she had laid out the new dress which she had bought for this evening. It was a silky material in blue and white and it brought out the colour of her eyes. The fitted bodice was held in place with narrow shoe-string straps. It was cut low but it had a matching bolero which made her feel less naked. She had also bought a pair of expensive leather sandals with high heels and low fronts. They were extravagant and impractical but they showed off her legs and made her feel good.

  There was an appetising smell emanating from the kitchen when she descended the stairs in her new finery. She was tempted to take a glass of wine to settle her nerves and give her confidence until she remembered that alcohol had been her mother’s downfall. This evening must not be spoiled by memories of her mother. She lifted her head, her small chin set with determination. This evening was for her and Josh.

  Josh and Billy had clubbed together to buy her one of the new record players for Christmas and she had been overwhelmed by their generosity. She loved to listen to music. She had learned to play the piano at school, and it came in useful now she was teaching, but she lacked the gift of a true musician. Later Josh had given her a record of light orchestral music with most of the tunes relating to the moon. She knew it was a reminder of a walk they had taken by the river when they had been enthralled by the beauty of the moonlit night. She selected the record now, intent on setting the scene for a romantic evening. She prayed Josh wouldn’t think she was trying to force him into a relationship he didn’t want.

  Chapter Ten

  Josh arrived carrying a fragrant spray of freesias. He had never given her flowers before and for a moment Charlotte wondered whether Libby had talked to him too. Her cheeks flushed at the thought but Josh greeted her with his usual quizzical smile.

  ‘These are in honour of my first invitation to dinner and I must say it smells delicious.’ Charlotte’s fingers reached for the flowers but Josh lifted his free hand and imprisoned them, his eyes serious now as he studied her face. ‘You always look pretty, Charlotte, but tonight …’ his voice deepened, ‘tonight there’s something more …’ He searched for words and couldn’t find them. Instead he leaned forward and kissed her cheek – no different to the way he had done scores of times in greeting or to say goodbye, and yet to Charlotte it seemed to have more meaning. She buried her face against the flowers.

  ‘They’re lovely, Josh. I will find a vase for them while you open the wine. At least that should be all right but I don’t know about the rest of the meal. You’re used to such high standards with your mother, your sister-in-law, and your niece.’

  ‘It smells delicious. I can feel my taste buds working overtime already,’ Josh grinned. ‘Is that why you’re nervous, Charlotte? There’s no need to be, you know.’

  The food was as good as its smell had promised and they chatted as they ate.

  ‘We’ll have our coffee in the lounge,’ Charlotte said as Josh ate the last spoonful of trifle.

  ‘Mmm, that was wonderful.’ Josh stood up. ‘You’re an excellent cook, Charlotte. You’ve proved it tonight so now you can relax.’ But she was more nervous than ever, wondering how she could talk to Josh about the things which mattered so much to both of them. Her hand trembled as
she poured the coffee and Josh stood up and took it from her.

  ‘Come and sit beside me, Charlotte, and tell me what’s wrong.’ Josh was always kind but he could be masterful too. She could not meet his eyes and Josh’s smile faded. She felt him tense beside her. ‘Have you something important to tell me?’ he asked. She looked up and saw his mouth had tightened. He looked tense and wary, his blue eyes narrowed. ‘Out with it, Charlotte. Have you met someone else? Is that what you’re afraid to tell me? Someone nearer your own age, I suppose?’

  ‘No! Oh no, Josh, nothing like that! I don’t want anybody else, young or old. It’s you I-I trust …’ She couldn’t bring herself to say love. Josh noticed but his face still showed relief.

  ‘If you trust me Charlotte, can’t you tell me what’s bothering you?’

  She began to talk, stumbling over the words, hiding her face so that he wouldn’t see her embarrassment. He was holding both her hands and he refused to let them go when she would have pulled away. Sometimes her words were garbled but Josh got the gist of what she was trying to say.

  ‘You mean to tell me your mother convinced you the relationship between a husband and wife, or a man and woman who love each other, was something to be endured, at least by women? Like – like … Oh I don’t know … like some kind of suffering?’ He looked at Charlotte. ‘She must have loved your father once, when she first married him?’

  ‘She never loved my father,’ Charlotte declared. ‘She told me so herself. I don’t think my mother knew how to love anyone. Wh-what if I’m the same? How would I know unless I got married – and then, then it would be too late.’

  ‘I’ve heard some women are frigid. Maybe that’s what was wrong with your mother.’ Josh frowned and his clasp tightened on her fingers. He looked her in the eye.

 

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