Carrig Of Dromara

by Frances McCaughey

  Everything worked out well and lots of Rosie’s friends turned up for the service in the little church along the road. Carrig spoke so well; and although there were a couple of times when he was near to tears, he held himself together well. Surprisingly, Peter read from Romans chapter twelve almost without faltering, which made everybody stronger. Carrig stood tall at the door and greeted everyone, welcoming the Russels and Elsie and Jock and young Carrig, and Freddie, Andrew and Louise, wee Jimmy from Erindale, big Henry and some others who came along.

  A beautiful lunch was served with lots of coffee and tea, and good conversation. Tears were shed aplenty and stories told of days gone by. It was a happy funeral because most if not all of those present knew where Rosie was now, and where they would be in the not too distant future.

  Carrig Anderson slowly walked through the wee cottage where his adoptive grandparents, John and Sarah, had spent most of their lives. He sat at the same table where he had eaten scones and jam with them all those years ago. He climbed the wee narrow stairway up to the top bedroom, where he had slept many times before. They had been the loveliest kind of people, so soft-hearted and always thinking of others before themselves. How could that son of theirs ever have left them? Surely he must have had the devil in him, to carry on like he did.

  ‘I am quite convinced that certain people are demonic, and live to torment those innocent folk around them, deriving some kind of sadistic satisfaction from their actions,’ mused Carrig. It was good to sit and just think things through by himself, without interference from anyone. ‘Yes,’ he thought to himself, ‘I shall allow young Alice and her boyfriend to live at the cottage.’

  He was at Lincoln University and could come over at weekends to help with the animals. They were so happy when he handed them the key. They now had a job each and a home in which to live and save for their own farm, which was their dream for the future. Alice had had a job in a bookshop, but it was boring and she wasn’t going anywhere. They were overjoyed when Carrig put the idea to them both the following weekend. They willingly signed the contract, saying they would pay a small rent and both would be responsible for certain things on the farm.

  “I can be called away quite quickly sometimes,” Carrig told them, “and so it’s important that I have someone to look after the place. Josh, of course, is the general manager and your mother, Alice, well, she looks after the house, but the cattle and horses and hens must be fed regularly and their water supply checked daily. Lizzie is very good in the garden and seems to love that. She has the run of the garden and orchard, but if she ever needs help you must see to it that she has it.”

  Louise and Carrig met up with a couple of friends and all four had a meal in the Hoofbeat Restaurant in Riccarton, where they liked to get together on the odd occasion. Big Henry and his wife, Maria, had stayed in close touch since they met up at college years before. As was their usual custom, both couples would each go their own way. Louise had previously invited Carrig to her flat in Lincoln Road, where they both ended up.

  It was still early, and after a couple of glasses of red wine they settled on a settee in the front lounge. Louise kissed him on the cheek, and instantly Carrig pulled away, protesting that he didn’t usually kiss on first dates.

  Louise was taken aback and laughed, saying, “Oh, come on, Carrig – we have been through all of this a hundred times before. For goodness’ sake, we’re like two old married fogies anyway! What’s the point?”

  “The point is”, said Carrig in a very serious way, “that I would have been much happier had we gone through some sort of courtship before entering into a more serious relationship.”

  “Well, who’s serious? I’m not.”

  “Oh, well, then I’ll be on my way.” Carrig spoke in a firm tone as he reached for his jacket. “I’ll leave you to it. Bye, then.”

  Louise followed him to his car.

  “I’m so sorry, Carrig. I wouldn’t offend you for the world. I think you know that.”

  “Well, let’s leave things for a while and see what eventuates. Must rush – I have a long drive home.”

  They waved to each other and Louise thought to herself, ‘Well, I’ve really put my foot in it this time.’

  After all the times he had met up with her at various venues in the past two years, but strictly on professional terms, of course, he had helped her tremendously to recover from her unhealthy relationship with her husband, which had been allowed to go on for too long.

  She cried herself to sleep, thinking of the one person who could truly make her happy in the whole world, and she had to go and make a fool of herself!

  In spite of a tumultuous relationship, both of them knew instinctively that they were meant to be together, and so as the year progressed a warmth grew in their meetings and it surely turned to true love, and all was well. Carrig was a more relaxed and calm individual, and a light shone from the eyes of Louise that no one remembered seeing before. That was true enough, as life had been hard for the young woman.

  It was six months later when they agreed to marry and the registry office was booked. Neither wanted a frivolous affair, and afterwards they chose to go on a camping honeymoon, travelling around the South Island. A close friend of Louise’s gave them her Bedford camper, filled to capacity with cooked chicken, salad (a bowl filled and more in the fridge), lots of fresh fruit, including strawberries from her own garden, a couple of bottles of wine and a very large box of Cadbury’s chocolates.

  The newly-weds had a wonderful time and returned three weeks later, invigorated and raring to go. Peter and Annie had arranged to be at Dromara when they returned, and so there was a large gathering of family and friends and a wonderful party was held, which seemed to continue for most of the night. Elsie and Jock were delighted to find the pair in such good fettle, and it was surely good to see young Carrig laughing again, and generally enjoying life.

  The beds were all made up and everybody slept where they would have normally slept if they had stayed over at the house.

  “How Sarah and John would have loved this!” Carrig remarked to the gathering at breakfast the next morning.

  “Indeed, and Wally and Mrs Watson would have been equally impressed with all the party. Weren’t we all fortunate to know them? They will be with us for as long as we live, and all they have taught us we will pass on to our offspring, I hope.”

  They dispersed one by one and normal life resumed at Dromara.

  Several weeks passed, and the winter weather in all its harshness curled around the farmstead. The firewood was cut and stacked in readiness, and Josh was constant in his stacking the firewood in the kitchen for his new mistress. Tilly had taken over from Lizzie and had done an amazing job in keeping the home in good order. She had made out a roster of jobs to be done each day, and was consistent in her cleaning.

  “Where’s your mistress, Tilly?” Carrig spoke abruptly as he entered the kitchen.

  “Oh, she’s not feeling so well this morning, sir, and wanted to sleep on a while. She asked for a tray at noon. I’ll make her a nice breakfast of currant bread toasted with lots of butter and coffee.”

  “If you are worried about her, let me know straight away. I have to run now – I’m late already.”

  He drove off towards the city, and Tilly made lunch for her and Josh. It seemed funny just the pair of them enjoying lunch without any of the family being present, but that’s the way they were and no one could change it. The master and mistress relied on them to carry on regardless with the work which had to be done.

  Carrig didn’t return until teatime, when Louise and he enjoyed a tasty meal together. They were looking forward to watching a good movie which they had tried to watch for weeks.

  “How are you tonight anyway?” he asked when they had settled before the television.

  “Oh, I’m OK – just something I ate. Do you want a hot drink?”

 
“Please, yes. I’ll have hot chocolate,” Carrig answered. “That was a great film. I’ve seen it before, but a long time ago, and I didn’t remember much of it.”

  The electric blanket made the bed so cosy to get into, and both slept through until morning.

  There had been a light dusting of snow overnight and the whole place looked so different.

  Josh and Carrig finished the fences that afternoon, and that completed the perimeter fence.

  “Hope there’s no more snow tomorrow as the large truck will be here to pick up the pigs for the works. Oh, I meant to ask,” – Carrig spoke to Josh – “how’s the cottage coming on? Did you get the painting finished yet?”

  “Oh yes, all done. We had a bit of an argument over colours, but in the end I just let her have her way to keep the peace.”

  Carrig laughed. “So that’s the way it’s done – anything to keep the wee woman happy, I suppose. Oh well, it saves a lot of bad feelings and long silences.”

  Both men laughed together.

  “I was thinking I wouldn’t mind having a go at the wee cottage in the yard. I might make a start this weekend, filling a few boxes. If there’s any furniture or things you need, we’ll let you know when you can have a look. We have to keep most of the furniture. It’ll be a good place for the young ones to play loud music or whatever they want when they come home.”

  “That’ll be great, sir. I’ll tell Tilly and let you know.”

  Tilly and Louise made a start on the cottage the following Monday, sorting things into boxes, mainly for the Salvation Army and whoever else needed them.

  “We’ll take the books over to Dromara. I know Carrig will be mad if we don’t let him check them over before they go out.”

  The boxes were left in the garage to be picked up by the van the following week, giving everyone time to take what they wanted.

  “You have a beautiful little boy, Mrs Anderson, and he has a pair of great lungs as you can hear,” the midwife said. After checking his airways were clear and wrapping him in a soft blanket, she placed him gently in his mother’s arms. “There we are. Now you can feed him if you wish. I will weigh him shortly and let you know how heavy he is.”

  Carrig kissed his wife and whispered to her, “Well done, darling. He looks so healthy – and look at that mop of dark hair! I think he might take after his father. What do you think?”

  “I think we should name him Patrick. What do you say? Patrick John Anderson sounds good, doesn’t it?”

  The midwife later weighed him in at eight pounds eight ounces. All the phone calls were made during the next twenty-four hours and now everybody knew. Dennis and Elenor Russel drove over specially the following day to see their new grandson.

  “Oh, he’s so beautiful!” Elenor cried when she held him. “My first grandchild! Thank you both for that. We love you – all three of you.”

  The Russels had bought the child a beautiful cot and a basket to put inside until he was old enough to sleep in the cot. Louise had been shopping with her mother when they picked the one Louise wanted. Old man Russel had a long chat with Carrig and both men walked around the farm, looking at the horses, cattle, pigs and, lastly, hens, while Louise and her mother enjoyed the afternoon together just chatting away about everything.

  “And Lizzie has gone,” Mrs Russel remarked.

  “Unfortunately yes, but we have a lovely wee lass now called Tilly who does all the housework and even has time to do the garden. She’s a great wee cook, and makes a mean scone when required. Her husband, Josh, works on the farm and is so reliable. Carrig can leave him for a whole day or more, knowing that everything will be done when he gets back. We have never been so well looked after.”

  “I’m sure you look after them in return.”

  “We do indeed.”

  “Well, all I can say is, Carrig, your father and mother would have been proud of both of you and what you have achieved in the years since they died. I know we certainly are, and we wish you both and your children all the happiness you deserve.”

  “Thank you, Dennis.” Carrig shook the older man’s hand and kissed Mrs Russel on the cheek. “Come over when you like. We’ll look forward to seeing you again soon,” he said, waving as they drove off.

  Later that day the twins arrived to see the new baby.

  “Oh, Louise, he’s beautiful – so soft and pink. And, Peter, come and see his dark hair standing straight up like a wee punk rocker!”

  Peter laughed. “Only you would think of such a thing to say about a new baby. He is a handsome wee chap, Dad and Louise. Congratulations to you both – you must be very proud.”

  The years passed and the family get-togethers became a special time for all. The wee cottage where Sarah and John had spent their lives together became a happy meeting place for the twins and all their friends, and young Patrick also gathered about him a group of great young people.

  Everything seemed to settle down again for a time, with each taking from life what they needed and sharing with those less fortunate than themselves a portion of what they had. It was a fulfilling and wholesome life that they all had at Dromara.

  That is until on the 11th day of September 2010, when all their lives and those of thousands of others in New Zealand, and especially in Christchurch and the surrounding area, changed for ever.

  The Day the Earth Shook

  At 4.31 a.m. on 11 September 2010 Louise Anderson raised her head from the pillow and listened to the roaring sound, which was all around. Glancing over towards Carrig, she found her voice, although shocked by the sound.

  “What on earth is that noise? I can’t believe it – it sounds like the house is coming down. It seems like all the windows are being smashed. The sound of breaking glass is unbelievable.”

  They both tried to get off the bed, but neither could get their footing without being thrown on to the bed again. After several attempts at it, eventually both were on their feet. The floor beneath them was swaying back and forth. Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, they both reached for their dressing gowns and slippers and made to walk towards the top of the stairwell, steadying each other while making their way down towards the hallway. The scene before them was one of total destruction. Books and furniture were spread over the floor. There was broken glass everywhere.

  “Be careful, Carrig.” Louise spoke to him as he led the way through the hallway towards the kitchen.

  They both stood in silence for a long time observing the scene before them. Everything seemed to be on the floor, which was a foot deep in flour, jam and preserves and all the contents of the fridge now scattered about with the door swinging open. Louise began laughing – a sort of hysterical laugh.

  “Oh,” she said, “look at this.”

  One large plastic picnic jug had a carton of cream cheese stuck inside it. She was laughing as she thought of the jug falling from the top shelf and simultaneously the carton of cream cheese flying out of the fridge and lodging in the jug.

  They both laughed, and then they cried and hugged each other, and then Carrig went to boil the kettle, which he would normally do in the morning, even at this early hour. But alas there was no electricity.

  “Well,” said Louise, “we can live without electricity, but not without water.” She ran the tap just to make sure.

  “I’ll try and light the wood stove and boil the kettle.”

  It would take a bit longer, but he knew that it would make Louise happy just to have something positive in the midst of such chaos.

  Louise went to find bread and a plate, but the plate rack had already lost all its contents and every plate they possessed was now in pieces on the tiled floor. Louise walked into the living area, stepping high to avoid any broken objects.

  In a tearful voice she said, “We haven’t got any plates left.”

  Carrig comforted her aga
in: “We can live without plates – we have each other, and we’re both safe. I wonder how the others are.”

  After reaching for the phone, which was completely dead, he made his way to the garage and switched on the radio of his car. He was pleased to hear that there were no casualties as yet. It was a 7.4-magnitude earthquake with the epicentre near Darfield, and everyone was advised to look out for each other and avoid falling debris, etc.

  “At this point there are no casualties, and we will keep you informed at half-hourly intervals throughout the day. If your homes are in danger please go to your nearest safety point, usually a school. All emergency services are on full alert, and most of the hospitals are still open for casualties admission and treatment.”

  What a blessing that it happened at a time people weren’t travelling into the city!

  Daylight was just breaking through now and they could see things more clearly and find out what was happening. Carrig had the wood stove going and Louise brought the filled kettle through.

  “Now, where did I put that old wire toasting fork? Wally gave it to me on my tenth birthday. Of course, there it is hanging up beside the fireplace.”

  Reaching for the fork and threading the soft bread on to the wire prongs, Carrig opened the front door of the stove, exposing the red embers.

  “When I have finished this I’ll go and check with Tilly and Josh.”

  “You should go back to bed, dear, and have a bit of rest.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t sleep. I’m too raised about the situation. Anyhow it might happen again.”

  “I don’t think so – we will get aftershocks though. They said we would.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”