The Legacy of Lochandee

by Gwen Kirkwood

  ‘In the beginning, I really believed you and your father were making an awful lot of unnecessary fuss,’ Nick admitted ruefully. ‘No idea, had I, that it would take so long, and so dreadful it is,’ he declared, shaking his head in distress as he listed some of the farms where he had previously made deliveries. ‘Many more there must be too. According to this newspaper report, they’ve slaughtered 21,400 animals, including pigs and sheep.’

  ‘Yes, I was just a child when it happened before in this area,’ Bridie nodded, ‘but I can still remember the horror of it.’ She shuddered involuntarily. ‘I’m truly thankful we escaped this time.’

  The following June, Nick thought half the Lochandee villagers must be coming to watch the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on the television, judging by the amount of food Bridie and Beth had prepared.

  ‘We don’t want to be making food and miss any of the excitement,’ she told him as eagerly as a child, ‘and it goes on all day, so everyone will need to eat.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s just as well Conan and I are working, then,’ he grinned. ‘We’d be sadly outnumbered by womenfolk.’

  ‘Yes, Dad felt the same, but he’s coming over in the evening, so maybe Conan will come back with you? Ewan’s coming with Mum. I hope he doesn’t fidget and keep wanting to go outside.’

  ‘Well, I can’t imagine the boyo being all that interested.’

  ‘Neither can I, but Lucy will be here and it’s still a case of where one goes the other goes too. I thought they might have grown apart now they are both at DumfriesAcademy, but Beth says they often help each other with their homework.’

  ‘Yes, Lucy comes over to the garage every Saturday to help Beth at the petrol pumps. Bright little thing she is, and Conan now, he has so much time and patience. Makes young Ewan quite cross, it does.’

  ‘Well, he’s a bit young to be jealous,’ Bridie chuckled.

  ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Nick said seriously. ‘Possessive young pup he is, especially where Lucy is concerned, and of course she’s impressed with Conan because he can drive a car and a bus. Pestering your father to let him drive the tractor, Ewan was, I heard.’

  ‘Yes, I believe you’re right, but it worries Mum. She’s sure he’ll have an accident.’

  It was an exceptionally cold day for June, but everyone enjoyed watching the Coronation, marvelling that it was actually taking place as they watched, even if it was in black and white. They could only imagine how beautiful the golden coach must look, not to mention the young Queen in her robes and crown.

  At the end of the day everyone thanked Bridie for allowing them to come, and for feeding them so well. Carol had brought her daughters, and two of her neighbours. Lucy went home with them, leaving Beth to help Bridie and Emmie with the milking.

  ‘I’d better be going home too,’ Fiona said, feeling flat at the thought of her own empty house.

  ‘Oh don’t go yet,’ Bridie said. ‘There’ll be lots more pictures on the newsreels tonight. Stay and have supper with us. I’ve made a huge shepherd’s pie and there’s apple pie and cream. I know that’s your favourite. I don’t know how you stay so slim, Fiona.’

  ‘Aye, you stay, lassie,’ Rachel said. ‘You can help me with the washing-up and putting the room back into order before Nick comes home, or he’ll think we’ve had a real old party.’

  ‘All right,’ Fiona nodded. ‘Just so long as I can be useful. I’m certainly no use at milking cows,’ she smiled ruefully.

  ‘There’s plenty of us tonight. We’ll be as quick as we can,’ Bridie promised.

  ‘It gives me a chance to tell you again how grateful I am for all you did to get the business of the vase sorted out,’ Rachel said as they washed and dried the dishes.

  ‘I received the cheque a fortnight ago. It’s wonderful. I’m sure I should never have received a penny if it hadn’t been for you, Fiona.’

  ‘Glad to help,’ Fiona said simply. She had told no one of her ordeal, but she had mentioned Mrs Murray’s confinement in a mental hospital. Now she added, ‘I received a short letter from Mrs Murray’s housekeeper, Mrs Bunty. She says Mrs Murray is progressing wonderfully now that she’s safely home again and she’s got a lovely young nurse-companion who can drive the car. They go for short trips into the country when the weather is fine.’

  ‘I’m so pleased to hear that,’ Rachel said warmly. ‘I’ve thought about her often, although we never met. It must have been awful to lose both her sons and then her husband.’

  ‘Yes,’ Fiona agreed softly. There were times when she herself felt very alone, in spite of her work with Jordon Niven and the good friends she had made since moving to Lochandee. She couldn’t account for her restlessness, and recently she had pondered the possibility of returning to the city and a more challenging job again. She felt her present life was lacking purpose. Sometimes Lucy came to ask for help with her homework and Fiona enjoyed her company, and her bright, intelligent young mind. At such times, she wondered whether she should enquire about retraining to become a teacher herself, but so far she had done nothing to change her routine.

  Much later that evening, when the men had seen as much about the Coronation as had interested them, the conversation drifted back to work, as it usually did. Ross suddenly turned to Bridie.

  ‘I nearly forgot to tell you, lassie. I’ve bought a young Ayrshire bull for you from Mr Drummond. They’re going to deliver him after the Castle Douglas sale and …’

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ For a moment Nick thought his wife was going to burst into tears, then he saw the twin patches of colour stain her cheeks and he realised she was extremely annoyed with her father. ‘You know I wanted to try some new blood lines. You knew I wanted to try the artificial insemination for some of the cows, but even if you couldn’t agree to that you could at least have consulted me about buying a bull.’

  ‘Och, this is a well-bred young bull,’ Ross said.

  ‘I thought we’d agreed you would choose the bulls for the Friesian cows and I should select my own breeding for the Ayrshires.’

  ‘But you’re just a lassie …’

  Bridie jumped to her feet, grabbed a tray of teacups and hurried away into the kitchen. She knew if she didn’t get out of the room she would either quarrel with her father or burst into tears, or both. Nick half stood to follow, but Fiona had already risen and she gave him a sympathetic glance as she lifted the other tray and followed Bridie.

  ‘I’ll just help Bridie with the cups then I’ll give you a lift home, Beth.’ There was no reply from Beth. She was sound asleep in her corner of the large settee and she looked pale and exhausted. For the first time, Rachel was shocked to notice how gaunt Beth’s face was in repose. She had always had such round cheeks and a healthy colour.

  In the kitchen Bridie clattered the cups into the sink in angry frustration, and Fiona knew she was near to tears.

  ‘Dad thinks I’m still a child!’ she muttered, ‘yet he leaves me to manage the dairy, milk the cows, and do all the other work there is to do. Then he doesn’t believe I can use my brain enough to study the pedigrees to select a bull. I know the strengths and weaknesses of our own cows better than anyone. I feel so – so …’ Her voice shook and she bit her lip. ‘If only I hadn’t lost my baby it wouldn’t have been so bad! Now there seems to be no satisfaction in anything I do. Nick’s right, I’m just a glorified milkmaid.’

  ‘Oh, Bridie, I’m sure your father means well …’ Fiona comforted her.

  ‘Maybe he means well.’ She turned to look at Fiona. ‘Yes, I know he does really, but if only he could see, I want to make my own decisions. Even if I make mistakes, I want to try out my own ideas! He just doesn’t understand that.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it is still his farm …’ Fiona said gently.

  ‘Half of it is mine. Aunt Alice left it to me. She knew how much I loved the Glens of Lochandee and the animals. It’s my life, Fiona. Especially – especially if I can’t even have any children to bring up and love and …’

&nb
sp; ‘I’m sure you will, one day, Bridie. You’re not that old yet.’

  ‘I’m 27! We’ve been married nearly four years now. I’m sure Nick’s given up hope. I don’t think he’s all that happy with the garage either. Dad and Conan are alike; they want to make all the decisions themselves. Sometimes I wish – I wish …’ She shrugged. ‘What’s the good of wishing?’

  ‘No good at all unless you do something to make your wishes come true,’ Fiona said wryly. ‘Why don’t you ask your dad if you can buy his share of the Glens of Lochandee? Then he can use the money to carry out his plans to Nether Rullion. He might even build a byre and have a dairy herd there, or …’

  Bridie had turned to stare at Fiona, her mouth in a small “O” of surprise.

  ‘If only I could …’ she breathed softly, ‘but where would I get the money?’

  ‘Well, Nick was going to get a bank loan to build the house – why not ask him to get one to buy half a farm instead?’

  ‘Do you think it might be possible?’ Bridie asked.

  ‘I don’t know. You’d need to ask the bank manager, but at least you would have the land as security and land doesn’t disappear. In fact, it seems to be more in demand now than it has been for years, according to old Mr Niven. Seriously, Bridie, I’m not the one to advise you, but you could ask the bank manager’s opinion. You’d probably need to take out a life insurance too. The thing is, would your father agree to sell his share, even if you and Nick can raise the money?’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t ask Nick to help. He has enough worries and problems with the garage business. Conan’s wanting to buy another bus. That will be four they’ve got. He does seem to get plenty of bookings for them. He loves arranging the journeys and routes, and where to stay. I think that’s what makes Nick so frustrated. He’s not interested in the bus trips and holidays, but Conan says it’s the way things are going since the war. People want new sights and experiences because they’re still restless. Do you think we are all restless, Fiona? I must admit I feel that way but I thought it was just me.’

  ‘O-oh, it’s not just you, Bridie, not by any means.’

  ‘Well, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone will you, Fiona? I’m really going to look into it, but I want to do it myself.’

  ‘If you did manage to get a bank loan, Bridie, do you think you could manage to repay it on your own?’ Fiona asked anxiously.

  ‘I think so, over a long time, but I’d need to discuss the costs. I’ve been keeping a set of accounts and records, just so I could see how economical things are, and what we might need to cut back, or increase. I’ll take them in to the bank manager when I get an appointment.’

  ‘Good for you!’ Fiona said admiringly. ‘But you always were intelligent and practical. I don’t suppose your father realises how much he underestimates that side of you.’

  ‘Then I shall have to show him,’ Bridie said with a gleam in her eye.

  As she drove home, with a weary Beth beside her, Fiona wondered how it was she could solve other people’s problems, yet she could find no solution to her own restlessness.

  Nick had expected Bridie to be in low spirits when they went to bed later that night, so he was surprised to find her strangely elated. He did a swift calculation but no, he thought sadly, it couldn’t be the start of another baby making her that way. Whatever it was, he enjoyed her passionate responses to his loving. He wouldn’t mind if there was a Coronation every day if it had this effect on her.

  It was some weeks before Bridie found time and courage to make an appointment with the bank manager. There was the turnip hoeing and sheep shearing and Ross asked her to send Frank and his father over to Nether Rullion to help. Hay time followed. Meanwhile Bridie was marshalling her thoughts and her arguments to deal with the bank. If that interview was successful, she would need even more arguments to convince her father. Nick suspected there was something on her mind, but he was far from happy with his own business, or he would certainly have paid more attention.

  Conan had mentioned the possibility of employing a woman full-time to supervise the petrol pumps and take telephone bookings for bus trips. Two days later, the woman had started work. Nick seethed inwardly. It was clear to him that Conan had already made the decision and acted upon it, before they had even discussed it. Moreover, Nick disliked Daphne Higgs instinctively. She had long fingernails painted scarlet and it was soon clear she had little intention of serving the customers with their petrol if she could avoid it. Some of the local farmers had accounts which they paid monthly and most of them paid promptly, but Mrs Higgs did her best to put obstacles in their way and said she preferred to work with cash on the spot. One of the customers approached Nick and complained about her attitude.

  ‘It’s not as though I’ve ever owed anybody money in my life, Mr Jones, and that woman makes me feel like a criminal.’

  ‘There’s new she is,’ Nick apologised, ‘but a word I’ll be having with her. You go on as you’ve always done.’

  ‘I’ll be going somewhere else, unless she changes her tune, I can tell you that. Sam Mackie had the same trouble with her yesterday over his account.’

  After three similar complaints in one afternoon, Nick stormed up to the little kiosk in a temper.

  ‘Mrs Higgs! Duw, but there’s trouble you’re causing here. You’ll have to go if you cannot run things the way we tell you, woman!’ His dark eyes flashed at the sight of her insolent stance. ‘No time I have to be getting out from under vehicles, soothing ruffled feathers and you not bothering to be pleasing the customers and writing up their accounts now.’

  ‘Have to go, will I?’ Daphne Higgs put her hands on her well-rounded hips and thrust out her ample bosom, which Nick thought seemed likely to pop out of her blouse like giant peas from a pod. ‘And who do you think you are, Taffy, trying to tell me what to do? If you’ve any complaints you’d better tell the boss.’

  ‘There’s strange now,’ Nick said softly, but his mouth was tight. ‘Just let me be telling you, I am the boss.’

  ‘I’ll just bet you wish you were!’ the woman jeered. She eyed Nick’s greasy overalls and dirty hands with disdain. Nick’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  ‘Conan omitted to give you all the facts now, did he, Mrs Higgs! Well, there’s promising you I am. One more complaint and you’re fired.’

  It was the following Saturday when Beth and Mrs Higgs quarrelled. Nick was glad he was not in the garage that afternoon. If he had not felt so sorry for Beth, he would have laughed at Conan’s predicament, with the two women almost coming to blows. It was Fiona who reported the quarrel to Bridie.

  ‘But Beth blames herself,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m a bit worried about her. She said she felt so tired it was almost a relief to give up the work at the petrol pumps on a Saturday.’

  ‘But I thought Beth needed the money.’

  ‘She thought she did. I think she manages quite well on what she earns between Nether Rullion and Lochandee. She just had it in her head that the more she could earn, the better chance Lucy would have of becoming a teacher. I think she knows now she couldn’t pay for Lucy to go to college unless she won some kind of grant, and of course there’s always a possibility of that.’

  ‘I expect Beth will tell me all about it when I see her on Monday,’ Bridie said, ‘but I wonder what Nick will say. I get the feeling he doesn’t like this Mrs Higgs, or trust her for that matter.’

  ‘He doesn’t? Maybe Beth was right then after all. You see, she began to suspect that Mrs Higgs sent her out to serve all those who pay on account, and any strangers. Beth and Lucy were eating their sandwiches for lunch and it was Mrs Higgs’ turn to serve the next customer. It was Doctor MacEwan, and Mrs Higgs insisted Beth should leave her lunch and attend to him. He pays on account. Beth realised then that she always served the ones likely to pay cash. She thought she had seen Mrs Higgs pocketing the money for one of the sales, but she wasn’t certain, so she didn’t mention that to Conan.’

  ‘Even so, it’
s a wonder Conan let Beth leave,’ Bridie reflected thoughtfully.

  ‘They’ve always been the best of friends.’

  ‘I know, but I think Beth persuaded him it was better this way because she can only work Saturdays and Mrs Higgs is there six days a week. Anyway he’s promised Lucy a Saturday job at the pumps after her next birthday. She’ll be 14 then.’

  ‘So she will,’ Bridie marvelled. ‘Is there a Mr Higgs, by the way?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Doesn’t Nick know?’

  ‘No. He and Conan barely mention her. I believe her appointment was a sore point.’

  ‘Well, never mind Mrs Higgs. I came to see how you got on with the bank manager. I feel quite anxious, Bridie, in case all my ideas are bad ones.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Fiona. I’m glad you suggested this one and I’d seek your advice if I needed it, but I know these decisions have to be my own. To tell the truth, my interview with the bank manager was a bit of a let-down after I’d got myself so keyed up for it. He was so noncommittal. He kept my accounts though – the ones I do for myself. He said he wanted to study them further, then he would get in touch. He might even want to see the farm, he said. That really alarmed me. I’m proud of Lochandee and the way we keep it, and the stock, but suppose he arrives on a day when Dad is here, or when Nick’s at home? Now I’m living in a state of anxiety.’

  ‘Would it be so bad if Nick knew, Bridie? Aren’t wives supposed to confide in their husbands?’

  ‘Yes, and I would, but Nick would probably feel he ought to be able to help me with the money. He thinks it’s bad enough me owning half the farm. That almost came between us before we were married. Anyway I want to prove that I can do it, and then I’ll tell him, when the time is right and he’s not all worked up and unhappy about his own affairs.’

  ‘I suppose you know best, though I think he may be a bit hurt if he ever finds out from someone else, before you confide in him yourself. Your Nicholas always gives me the impression of being really proud and independent, with all the fire of his Celtic ancestors.’