The Road to Rowanbrae

by Doris Davidson

  Mrs Bisset had given Gregor the address he wanted, and when he set off for Bieldside in the morning, he said, ‘Don’t expect too much of Gina, Maisie. You know how strong-willed she is, and I can’t promise anything. I can only try.’

  ‘I know, and I won’t blame you if you can’t persuade her to come to me, but I’ll be praying that you can.’

  Too keyed-up to do anything except wait for her daughter to ring the doorbell, Mysie sat in the sitting room for nearly two hours, jumping up hopefully each time she heard a car coming and growing increasingly despondent when every vehicle whizzed past. When the telephone jangled at twenty past ten, she ran to answer it, snatching up the receiver and almost dropping it with excitement. ‘Hello,’ she said, breathlessly. ‘Is that you, Gina?’

  ‘Oh, Maisie, I’m sorry.’ Gregor’s voice sounded flat. ‘She won’t come, no matter what I said. She didn’t even seem to care that Sandy had been killed, and I was there for about an hour trying to make her see sense. I thought I’d better let you know as soon as I came to the office, so that you wouldn’t keep hoping.’

  ‘Thank you. You did your best.’ Mysie forced the words out.

  Sick at heart, she prepared lunch then baked bread, scones and pancakes to keep herself occupied. She heard the second post coming through the door at ten past twelve, but ignored it. The letters were usually for Gregor, anyway.

  Gina tipped the tin of tomato soup into a pan. How dare that man come inside her house at nine o’clock in the morning and lecture her. She had still been in bed, and had wondered who was at the door at such an unearthly hour. She had actually smiled when she opened it, because she really had no quarrel with Gregor. Well, she hadn’t had, not until he told her why he was there. If he’d only taken no for an answer, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but he had stood in the lounge arguing with her, telling her how selfish she was, and how badly she had hurt her mother. Good God! Did nobody ever remember how hurt she had been at the time?

  Turning from the cooker to get a spoon, she noticed that she had left the empty tin on the table and hastily disposed of it in the rubbish bin, thrusting it well down under some papers out of sight. If Campbell saw it, he would create merry hell about her using tinned soup.

  When her husband came in for lunch, she told him about her unexpected visitor and how Gregor had pleaded with her to make up with her mother. ‘She had sent him, of course. She’d been feeling guilty about Sandy now that he’s dead, and she’d wanted to ease her conscience by apologising to me.’

  ‘Your mother has nothing to apologise for,’ Campbell said, quietly, having been told the whole story on the night Gina came knocking on his parents’ door in great distress. ‘All she did was to love her son enough to try to prevent an unsuitable marriage, and as far as you’re concerned, you were the result of her loving a man other than her husband. And don’t pretend you’re shocked by that, because you’re much worse. I have no idea how many men you have taken here, and you’re bloody lucky that you’ve never been pregnant by any of them.’

  ‘Not lucky,’ Gina sneered. ‘Careful. I should have known you wouldn’t see my side of it, but you don’t know what it’s like to find out you’re illegitimate. It’s something you can’t get over, and I never forgave Sandy for the way he told me.’

  Campbell sighed. ‘I suppose it was a shock to you, but you did get over it, and it wasn’t your brother’s fault. He was angry at his mother and lashed out at her. If you don’t want to see her, don’t go, but stop harping on at me about it. I’ve invited my parents to dinner tomorrow night and I want you to be on your best behaviour. You won’t need to worry about what to give them, because a farmer I know has promised me a nice piece of pork. He’s delivering it in the morning.’

  ‘You might have asked me before you invited them,’ Gina burst out. ‘I’m going out with James tomorrow night.’

  ‘You’ll have to phone him and cancel it, then.’

  Seething inside, Gina gave in. When they made their bargain, Campbell had said he would put her out if she didn’t keep her promise, and she couldn’t face being homeless and penniless, not now – not after all the fun she’d been having recently.

  When Gregor came home for lunch at ten past one, he brought the post in with him and laid it down beside his place at the dining room table. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t make Gina… ‘

  ‘I didn’t really think she would listen – she’s always been self-centred. Don’t worry, I’ve got over the disappointment. Sit down and read your mail till I bring through the dinner.’

  When she laid down the two steaming plates, he handed her a fat envelope. ‘This one’s for you.’

  Mysie didn’t recognise the handwriting, and because there was no postmark during wartime to say where it had been posted, a vague apprehension stole over her. She turned the letter over in her nervous hands and looked fearfully at her husband. ‘I don’t want to open it, Gregor. There’s something … I’ve got a queer feeling about it.’

  ‘Would you like me to read it for you?’

  She gave it back and watched him slitting it open with his paper-knife. He read the single sheet first, without saying a word, then held out a second envelope which had been enclosed inside it. ‘It’s from Sandy,’ he said gently, then jumped up in alarm as his wife swayed and sank to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  ‘Are you quite sure you don’t want me to stay at home today?’ His wife’s wan face and dark-circled eyes had made Gregor have second thoughts about leaving her alone.

  Mysie shook her head. ‘I told you – I’ll be all right.’

  ‘But you didn’t sleep a wink last night.’

  ‘And I didn’t let you sleep, either. You must be tired, but don’t stay off work just for me.’

  ‘I’m not tired, but I haven’t many appointments today, and I could quite easily cancel them.’

  ‘Off you go. I’m over the worst.’

  When her husband went out, Mysie cleared the table and ran hot water into the washing-up bowl. She had to keep busy. If she didn’t, she would give way altogether. But, as she plunged her hands into the suds, she couldn’t help thinking about the letter. Before Sandy had written to her, he must have had a premonition of what was going to happen to him – the next day, as far as she could make out. He had addressed the envelope to her, but had marked it ‘To be posted only in the event of my death,’ and someone must have gone through his belongings afterwards and found it. According to the pilot who sent the little note along with it, he had been coming back to Britain and the commanding officer of Sandy’s squadron had given him the letter and told him to post it when he landed.

  Lifting her arm to wipe a tear away with her sleeve, Mysie wished that the pilot had given her his address, so that she could have written to thank him. She had told Gregor that she was over the worst, but she still felt empty, as if the bottom had dropped out of her world. She was thankful that Sandy had written, but why, oh why, hadn’t he come to see her before he went away? And Gina’s refusal to see her made it even worse. Her daughter must have known how his death would affect her.

  When the doorbell rang, Mysie considered not answering it – she couldn’t face anyone today – but it rang again, and again before she dried her hands. She had believed that her heart was so numb it would never feel anything again, but it jolted and sank when she saw who the caller was.

  ‘I had to come to tell you how sorry I am,’ Amy murmured, ‘but if you’d rather not talk about it …’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Mysie opened the door wider, praying that the woman wouldn’t stay long.

  As she sat down, Amy said, ‘Ben phoned me as soon as Gregor told him your son had been killed. I did see the announcement in the newspaper, but I didn’t connect it with you. I hadn’t realised you had any family. Have you more than one child?’

  Mysie had to force herself to answer. ‘I had two sons and a daughter, but Jamie … died when he was just a boy.’

  ‘Oh, God,’
Amy exclaimed, compassionately. ‘How awful to lose both of them. Does your daughter live anywhere near?’

  ‘No.’ It wasn’t strictly true, but Mysie couldn’t say any more, and she was sure that Amy Parker was too well-bred to ask any questions although she was obviously longing to find out why Gina wasn’t there at this time.

  There was a short silence, then Amy stood up. ‘I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry. You must be heartbroken.’

  ‘Yes, I am, but it was very kind of you to …’

  ‘I’ll let the girls know that you won’t be expecting us this Wednesday, but is it all right for next week?’

  A voice was screaming inside Mysie’s head – not next week or any other week – and it was a moment before she could answer. ‘I don’t think I … I can’t carry on with my afternoons. I wouldn’t feel … I … I …’ She was unable to continue.

  ‘I quite understand, my dear. It will probably take you a long time to get over this. Don’t bother to get up, I’ll see myself out.’

  As the outside door closed quietly, Mysie covered her eyes with her hands, but she wasn’t weeping. She had wept enough tears the last two nights to have launched a battleship, and she was beyond that now. She was imprisoned in a vacuum, with nothing but grief and pain to keep her company.

  Gregor found her like that half an hour later, Amy Parker having telephoned him to tell him that Maisie was on the verge of a breakdown and that he should go to her at once. He said nothing as he knelt beside his wife and put his arms around her, but was shocked when she lowered her hands and turned her head towards him. Her eyes – her lovely, lively, blue eyes – were absolutely vacant.

  He kept holding her, getting no response, until one of his legs got cramp and he had to stand up to flex it. Mysie gave a little mew that tore at his heart, and he took her hands to pull her to her feet. ‘You should be in bed, let me take you upstairs.’ He was afraid that her legs wouldn’t carry her, but she plodded beside him like a robot as he guided her to their bedroom, and stood still until he undressed her and put on her nightdress. Then he helped her into bed, and she lay down on her back, staring at the ceiling.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he stroked her forehead over and over again, not stopping until long after her eyelids drooped and closed. Once he was certain that she was asleep, he kicked off his shoes and lay beside her. However long it was before she awoke, he would be there for her to turn to.

  Exhausted himself, Gregor, too, soon fell into a deep sleep, but was instantly alert when he felt a movement at his side. His wife, however, had not wakened, so he twisted his head to look at the clock, and was surprised to see that it was past nine – ten hours since he’d put her to bed.

  Mysie slept for almost twenty-three hours, and her husband, still in his office suit, was lying with his arm over her when she opened her eyes.

  ‘How do you feel, my dearest?’ he asked, thanking God that she was looking lovingly at him, not staring through him as she had done the day before.

  ‘I feel as if I’d been pulled through a hedge backwards,’ she tried to joke, then noticed that he was fully clothed. ‘Did you put me to bed? Why aren’t you in your pyjamas? How long have I been sleeping? What time is it?’

  ‘That’s my Maisie come back to me,’ he smiled. ‘To answer your questions – yes, I put you to bed and I didn’t want to leave you even to put on my pyjamas, though I did have to go to the bathroom a few times. You have been sleeping since just after eleven yesterday forenoon, and it is now five to ten. Another hour and you’d have had a complete round of the clock.’

  ‘And you’ve been lying beside me all that time? You haven’t had anything to eat since – since yesterday morning?’ She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. ‘I’ll go down and make a late breakfast, and we can have a late lunch, and …’

  ‘I’ll make something. Get back to bed, my dear. You’re not fit to be doing anything.’

  ‘I’m all right, Gregor, honestly. When I woke up at first, I didn’t remember anything for a minute, but when I did, I didn’t feel as bad as I did when Amy was here.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have left you alone, but you were so determined.’

  ‘I was stupid.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I thought I could cope with it, and I might have, if Amy Parker hadn’t come round, not that she said anything out of place. It hit me after she went out. Now, you go and take a bath to freshen yourself, and I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you come down. I’ll leave my bath until after we’ve eaten, that’ll give the water time to heat again, so I’ll put on my dressing-gown just now.’

  On her way out, she turned her head to him. ‘Oh, Gregor, I love you more than any other woman ever loved before.’

  He didn’t move for a moment, storing her words deep inside his heart, to treasure for as long as he lived.

  Mysie did not resume her social afternoons, and when Gregor asked her, about six months later, why she was still keeping herself apart from her old ‘pupils’, she said, ‘I’m ashamed to face them again, for I’m sure none of them would have given way to their feelings like I did in front of Amy. If the same thing had happened to them, they would have carried on with a stiff upper lip, and nobody would ever have known the agony they were feeling inside.’

  ‘But your case was different,’ Gregor reminded her. ‘You have had so much sorrow in your life, and you have never recovered from Sandy and Gina leaving home, then getting his letter the day after you learned of his death – it’s no wonder you were affected like that. It was all too much for you.’

  Mysie sucked in her lips for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose my case was different …’

  ‘It’s all over now, my dearest. Try to forget about it. Now, will we divide the newspaper between us, or …?’

  ‘You read it, Gregor, and you can tell me if there’s anything important in it. I want to bake a few scones and oatcakes to fill my tins again. We seem to go through an awful lot.’

  Grinning, he corrected her. ‘You mean I go through an awful lot. What do you expect when they’re so delicious?’

  ‘I’m not complaining. I’m glad you enjoy them.’

  Gina Bisset dressed carefully. She wasn’t doing it to please Campbell, but there could well be an attractive, available man at this party tonight, and if she played her cards right … Hannah and Harry usually had quite a few guests, sometimes new people Harry had come in contact with, and that was the only reason she had agreed to go with her husband. They had been living like strangers for quite a while – even his parents had eventually noticed and been distant towards her – but they had their barneys, too. It was like being on a seesaw, the ups of her little flings with the various men she went out with far outweighing her downs with Campbell.

  He had made lots of money through the black market, and she often wished that the war would go on for ever, though it made her feel guilty. Anyway, she thought, as she made up her face, their bank balance should be quite healthy and the house in Bieldside was modern and labour-saving. A woman came twice a week to do the heavy cleaning, and a daily did the cooking as well as keeping the place tidy, and it was marvellous to have such a beautiful home to show off when anyone visited.

  When Campbell came home, she was ready waiting, but his face lengthened when he saw her in her new cocktail gown. ‘You’d better take your glad rags off, Gina, we won’t be going to the party tonight.’

  ‘If you think it’s funny to say things like that …’

  ‘I’m not joking. I’d a phone call today asking me to go to see my accountant, and he’s just told me I’m on the verge of bankruptcy.’

  ‘You can’t be. You’re still busy, aren’t you?’

  ‘We’re still working hard, but there’s no money coming in.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean our customers haven’t been paying.’

  ‘Can’t you force them to pay?’

  ‘He says they’re in the same boat. There’s nothing I can do … unless I can borrow a
few grand from somewhere. Once you give me something to eat, I’m going over to ask my father, that’s why the party is out.’

  ‘But what will you tell Hannah and Harry?’

  ‘Bugger Hannah and Harry!’

  It was the first time Gina had ever heard him speaking like that, and she knew then, with a sinking heart, that things were very serious indeed. ‘Do you think your father will …?’

  ‘If he doesn’t, I’m sunk.’

  Without warning, Gina felt a slight tug at her heart-strings. Poor Campbell, she had treated him very badly, and any other husband would have thrown her out for the way she had carried on. ‘I hadn’t prepared anything, seeing we were supposed to be going out, but I can give you beans on toast, if that’s okay?’

  ‘I’m not really hungry, but I thought I should eat something to buck me up a bit.’

  ‘I’d better change, I don’t want to dirty this dress.’ She ran upstairs to put on a skirt and blouse, then went down to open a tin of beans in the kitchen.

  Campbell came in behind her. ‘I’m really sorry, Gina.’

  Her normal reaction would have been to laugh in his face, but she didn’t feel normal any more. ‘It can’t be helped. Maybe your father will stump up.’

  ‘I don’t set much store on it.’

  When he left, Gina washed up thoughtfully. If old man Bisset refused to help, what would happen to Campbell? If she hadn’t been so stupid, their marriage might have succeeded, but she had wanted excitement. They had both been too young to settle down, of course, and hadn’t considered each other’s feelings, though she had probably been more selfish than he was.

  When she heard the car drawing up outside, she ran to the door. ‘Well?’