The Legacy of Lochandee

by Gwen Kirkwood

  Nick and Bridie ate at leisure, enjoying being together with nothing in the world to interrupt their easy chat, their pleasure in each other’s company.

  ‘I can’t wait for us to be married and have time together like this every day,’ Nick said, caressing the back of Bridie’s hand with his forefinger. ‘And even better every night,’ he added softly and the intensity in his dark eyes sent tingles down Bridie’s spine.

  ‘I know … Surely it won’t be long now you have permission to start building?’

  ‘You’ll not regret it, Bridie, I promise. I know how much it means to you leaving Lochandee, but someday, somehow, I’ll make it up to you.’ He rose and drew her onto the dance floor. They were perfectly in tune with each other and with the romantic atmosphere. Bridie was pleased she had worn her yellow cotton dress with its swirling skirt, in spite of her mother’s warning that she would catch cold. The style accentuated her narrow waist and chest and the smouldering look in Nick’s eyes made her heart beat faster.

  They had enjoyed a lovely meal and several dances. ‘One more drink we’ll have with our coffee, then head for home.’ Nick sighed. ‘There’s a thousand times a night I’m wishing we were living in the same home, sharing the same bed …’ He chuckled softly at the pink in Bridie’s cheeks. ‘There’s pretty you are when you’re blushing and still so shy I can scarce believe it, Bridget Mhairi Maxwell.’

  Nick had drunk more wine than was his habit and he drove slowly, carefully, on the way back to Lochandee, but the roads were almost deserted. Petrol was still rationed and few people drove purely for pleasure. Just before they reached the village he drew into the shelter of a stretch of woodland and stopped the car. He turned and drew Bridie into his arms, kissing her with an urgency which took her by surprise after the dreamy pace of the evening. She guessed it was the wine, as well as the news that they could start building their own home, which was adding fire to his blood. He undid the buttons of her coat and slipped his arms around her, feeling her quiver in response as his hand explored the softness of her body beneath the thin material of her dress. Bridie’s breath came faster as Nick slipped one hand beneath her skirt, feeling the tops of her best silk stockings and the thin satin suspenders. She was a little shocked at his dexterity in opening one single-handedly. She clung to him as he stroked the bare skin of her thigh, still gently, but Bridie felt the passion growing in him. She felt it too.

  ‘Soon it is we’ll be getting married, my love … soon …’ His voice was husky. ‘Couldn’t we … just this once … Bridie …?’

  Bridie’s lips were clinging to his, her heart racing. Desire flared to match his own as his hands aroused so many sensations. She had never felt quite so wanton … but always her mother’s voice came into her mind – gentle and clear, and so very insistent. She could almost see the anxiety in Mum’s eyes, looking down into her own. She had been 12 or maybe 13 at the time. She remembered one of the girls at school, only two years older than herself, having a baby.

  ‘You’re almost a young woman now, Bridie. I had no one to explain to me about being a woman and all that it means – like making babies. You must never let any man try to make a baby with you, Bridie, not until you’re married.’ Her mother had been so earnest, her face full of loving concern. Bridie remembered staring back, bewildered and anxious.

  ‘I-I don’t understand, Mama …’

  ‘You will one day. It’s so easy to make a baby, especially if you think you love someone or want to please them.’

  ‘But how can I make a baby?’

  ‘When we want the cows to have a calf, you know we put them beside the bull?’

  ‘Of course, but …’

  ‘And months later the cow has her calf. Men and women are just the same, except we are not animals and we should be married first – make our vows before God, in church.’ Her mother had shuddered. Bridie still puzzled over that conversation, but she had never forgotten. There were still many things she didn’t really understand about men and women and right now she yearned passionately for Nick to hold her tighter and tighter … For him to …

  ‘No, Nick! Please, we mustn’t make any babies – not yet …’ There was panic in her voice. She wanted whatever it was Nick wanted, but she could not forget her mother’s warning, even now.

  Nick caught his breath, paused, then with an impatient sigh he drew away from her. He leaned back in his own seat, head thrown back, drawing in great gulps of air as he strove for control. He rested his elbow on the window, his head in his hand. Bridie glanced at him miserably, feeling cold, bereft.

  ‘I-I’m s-sorry, Nick,’ she said in a small, wistful voice. ‘I’m sorry if I’m a disappointment to you …’

  ‘No.’ He drew another deep breath. ‘No, you won’t be a disappointment when we’re married. There’s shy you are underneath, that’s all. I should have known better and a car isn’t the right place for our first time. There’s carried away, I was.’ He sighed heavily. ‘But Bridie … we’d be safe, you know. We don’t need to take any chances about making babies if that’s all that worries you. I could send away for some French letters if … well, if you’d let me then …?’

  ‘French letters?’ Bridie was totally confused. ‘Why are you changing the subject? Are you drunk, Nick?’

  ‘No, I … You’ve never heard of French letters? Duw, I was thinking there’s not a single girl left in this country who hasn’t heard of them – not since the war.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t. What …?’

  ‘Don’t you girls talk about anything except recipes and clothing coupons? Fiona hasn’t lived all her life in a little village. What does she talk about, I wonder …’ It was not a question. Bridie heard exasperation in his voice. Their glorious evening was beginning to turn into a miserable fiasco. She had failed Nick and she didn’t know what to do about it. ‘Oh forget it!’ He opened the car door and grabbed the starting handle.

  After Nick had dropped Bridie off at the farm, he drove back to the flat but he sat for a long time in the car, pondering the events of the evening. He did love her. He’d been attracted to her since she was no more than 15 – the first time he came to Lochandee with Conan. He had heard her sing at the village concert – A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square – and he knew he would never forget her. Like most of the young men who had known they could die tomorrow, he had taken his pleasures if it suited him, but ever since he had known Bridie returned his feelings he’d remained faithful to her. Surely it was only her sheltered upbringing that was holding her back? He had rarely smoked since he was demobbed but he wished he’d had a cigarette now. He’d heard some of the men in the forces talking about frigid wives. He’d often thought they were making excuses for their infidelities, but now he wondered. Surely Bridie wouldn’t turn out to be cold and unresponsive? Nick knew his Celtic breeding could never stand such a punishment. Everything about Bridie was soft and warm and caring. He shook himself. He’d drunk too much wine and it had depressed him. He dragged himself out of the car and went inside.

  Back at Lochandee, Bridie did not sleep well. She felt young and gauche and ignorant of the world beyond Lochandee. She knew Nick had been disappointed tonight. Moreover, alone in the darkness of the night, reality returned and she couldn’t dispel her misgivings at the prospect of moving to the new house which so excited him. It would go ahead quickly now. She ought to be overjoyed. Nick had even changed the site in the hope of making her happy, or so she believed, but she could not share his enthusiasm when it meant leaving Glens of Lochandee.

  Two evenings later she cycled down to see Fiona, who seemed to have settled quickly into her new home. She was surprised to see Beth there too, quite at home sitting on one side of the fire.

  ‘Harry is listening to Lucy playing her accordion pieces,’ she said. ‘She just loves that noisy old thing, and Harry dotes on every tune she plays for him. Then they’re going to have a game of draughts, so I thought I’d just leave them to it and pop across here.’

  ‘B
eth brought me one of her apple pies,’ Fiona said with a smile at Bridie. ‘I’m going to get fat at this rate. She knows all my weaknesses already.’

  ‘Fat!’

  ‘That’ll be the day!’ Beth and Bridie said in unison.

  ‘Beth spoils me anyway. Apart from her cooking, I’m glad of a friendly chat. I feel I belong here already.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Bridie said warmly.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for telling me this place was for sale, and for recommending Mr Niven as a solicitor. I’m working three days a week for him now. Oh by the way, did you enjoy your meal with Nick the other night, Bridie? He asked me if there was anywhere you would specially like for a celebration meal. It’s lovely, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it was. Er … Fiona, have you ever heard of French letters?’ Bridie asked innocently. Beth gasped and put a hand over her mouth. Fiona’s eyes widened and for a moment Bridie thought she saw a flash of amusement in their clear grey depths but it was swiftly hidden as she lowered her lashes.

  ‘Well? Have you heard of them or not?’

  ‘You’d do better to ask Beth than me,’ Fiona said.

  ‘Oh no. We never used them.’ Beth’s face flushed and then went pale. How could she admit that she and Harry had never needed them? They had both longed for children, at least four they had planned, but as they’d discovered, life didn’t go according to plan. Too often, it went terrifyingly wrong when you least expected it.

  ‘Well, what are they?’ Bridie demanded feeling foolish and wishing she’d never mentioned them.

  ‘I’ve never had occasion to use them either, Bridie,’ Fiona said gently. ‘But I can tell you it’s just a slang expression for condoms – you know, things that men wear to – to prevent their wives getting pregnant.’

  ‘O-oh!’ Bridie’s face flamed and now she was the one who clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘I-I see …’

  ‘I expect you and Nick have lots to discuss before the wedding,’ Fiona said calmly. ‘I’m sure it must be better to talk about things beforehand.’

  ‘Y-yes. We … I wondered whether you would be my bridesmaid, Fiona?’

  ‘Why, yes! I’d be honoured.’

  ‘And Lucy,’ Bridie turned to Beth, glad to talk about other things to hide her mortification. ‘Do you think Lucy would like to be a bridesmaid, Beth?’

  ‘She’d love it, I know she would. Are you sure you want her, Bridie? I-I mean, has Nick any relations you ought to ask first?’

  ‘No. He has no close family. It will not be a big wedding, but I think some of his friends from the RAF will come. We haven’t fixed a date but we hope it will be at the end of September.’ Bridie stood up. ‘I’d better leave you two to chat.’

  ‘Oh don’t go yet!’ Fiona said. ‘I’ll make a cup of coffee.’

  ‘Not for me, thanks,’ Beth said. ‘I’d better pop back over the road and get that bairn o’ mine to bed. Harry would never think of telling her to go.’ She had half-intended asking Fiona’s opinion about the tiny lump she thought she had discovered. Now she was glad Bridie’s arrival had prevented her mentioning it and making a mountain out of a molehill. She grinned to herself at the comparison. It was probably no more than a pimple in her breast if she could see it for herself.

  When Beth had gone Bridie looked at Fiona miserably.

  ‘I made a real fool of myself, didn’t I?’ She bit her lip.

  ‘Not at all, Bridie,’ Fiona reassured her kindly. ‘When you live in the city and mix with lots of different people they talk about things our parents would never have discussed, even between themselves. Er … I know there is a book if you want to know about birth-control, though. I’ll find out the proper name for you. I’m sure you and Nick will be really happy once you’re married. He seems very caring and considerate.’

  ‘Mmm … if we don’t fall out before then,’ Bridie muttered glumly.

  ‘You won’t – not seriously. Nick loves you and he’ll wait, if you ask him – and Bridie …’ Fiona’s pale face flushed bright pink, but she bit her lip and went on. ‘Gerry and I didn’t wait. I wish now we had. It w-was so, so fumbling and hurried and – and sordid. It – it was awful. I wanted to g-give him something to remember me by. Deep down, I-I think I knew I might never see him again. I really thought I loved him. We were both so dreadfully young, so inexperienced.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Fiona.’ Bridie’s eyes were round with surprise. She had always believed Fiona would be in control of every situation she ever came across.

  ‘Promise me you won’t tell anybody, Bridie.’

  ‘Of course, I promise. I wouldn’t dream …’

  ‘No, no, I know you wouldn’t really. I only told you because I can see something’s troubling you, and I can guess Nick thinks he’s waited long enough. Let him wait just a bit longer, Bridie, and I’m sure you’ll not regret it and neither will he.’

  ‘You’re a good friend, Fiona. I-I was feeling really wretched – and stupid. You make me feel much better.’

  ‘That’s what friends are for and you’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know. I feel as though you’ve drawn me into your own circle of family and friends. Beth is becoming a close friend, now we’re getting to know each other. I didn’t think we’d have anything in common but it’s amazing the things we find to talk about. There’s just one thing we don’t agree about.’ She gave Bridie a wry smile. ‘And that’s your brother.’

  ‘Conan?’

  ‘Yes. Beth and Lucy believe he can do no wrong, but he always brings out the worst in me. He makes me want to argue with him whatever we discuss.’

  ‘Oh that’s Conan all right, but I don’t suppose Beth expresses any opinions to oppose his own. That would get a bit boring for you and me, I think. Anyway Beth’s known him nearly all his life. Her grandfather first got him interested in mending and making bicycles. When old Mr Turner died, Harry and Beth got married and took over the shop, so Conan spent his spare time with him after that.’

  ‘Harry really dotes on Lucy, doesn’t he? I hope she never lets him down. I mean, she may not want to be a teacher, or she may not get good enough grades – though I must say, she seems a bright child, as well as very loveable. It’s just such a big responsibility being an only child. You may inherit all your parents’ worldly goods, but you are the only one they have to pin their hopes on.’

  ‘I never thought of that, Fiona. Even Beth is a bit anxious, in case Lucy doesn’t live up to Harry’s expectations.’

  ‘Few people realise what a responsibility it is …’ Fiona sighed. ‘At night, when I’m on my own, I feel so guilty about leaving my own mother. I can’t get her out of my mind.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ve anything to feel guilty about. You gave up a promising career because you felt she needed you. You weren’t to blame that she had less time than everyone expected.’

  ‘No? I wish I could be sure about that.’ Fiona mumbled and turned away, but not before Bridie had seen a glint of tears in her eyes. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’ She disappeared into the kitchen. Bridie sensed Fiona needed to gather the control which she prized so much.

  Rachel felt Bridie was more subdued than she ought to be for a girl looking forward to her wedding in a few months’ time and she guessed it was the thought of leaving Glens of Lochandee and her beloved cattle. She felt sick at heart when she thought about her high hopes when she had packed up her vase and put it into the care of Mr Murray. Her only wish had been to make all her family happy, and keep Ross from being overworked. She had judged Mr Murray to be a man of integrity and he had let her down. She wished she had never let him take away her cherished vase, never allowed herself to be won over by his tale of riches beyond her dreams. She had wanted nothing for herself. The vase had reminded her of her childhood and the love and kindness old Minnie Ferguson had shown her, after the death of her own mother.

  At last, she admitted her doubts and suspicions to Ross.

  ‘I never did believe a vase could be worth anything lik
e Mr Murray told you, Rachel, my love, but I know it had great sentimental value for you, and for that alone it makes me angry that he tricked you into parting with it. I believed him to be a genuine man myself but it seems he deceived both of us.’

  ‘That’s the hardest thing to accept. If he’d written to say the vase was worthless, I wouldn’t have minded so much. At the least I might have got it back, yet we’ve heard nothing from him since he left.’

  ‘Fiona seems to have benefited from his advice,’ Ross mused. ‘According to Bridie, the collector he recommended paid good prices for her father’s jade and ivory figurines, and a chess set.’

  ‘I know, and the local antiques dealer gave her a decent price for her furniture, once he realised she understood the proper value, and she said that was only due to Mr Murray’s advice. I just hate to think we were so wrong about him.’

  ‘Well, at least some good came out of it – your idea of building the house at Nether Rullion, instead of at the garage. Nick seems happy with the new site. I really believe he’s looking forward to living there.’

  ‘Nick’s looking forward to getting married and I don’t think it would matter where he lived, so long as he has Bridie to himself. He’s a good lad. I just hope they’ll be happy together.’

  ‘Dear Rachel, you worry too much about all of us. Bridie will be fine.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, but I’m not so sure …’

  An unexpectedly bitter wind at the beginning of May sent the young lambs scurrying for shelter and Bridie was extra diligent in her shepherding, in case any were starving from lack of their mother’s milk.

  ‘Mum has taken the car to get Ewan and Lucy home from school,’ she said to Beth, when she joined her in the byre at milking time. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t get some trees blown down, it’s so wild. If it hasn’t calmed down by the time we’re finished milking, I’ll give you and Lucy a lift back to the village. We’ll tie your bicycle on the back of the car. It’s almost impossible to walk against the wind when it takes away your breath.’