by Ian Todd
“I wish there was something I could do to help,” Morven said.
“Aye, well, it gets worse,” Paul added, explaining whit hid happened tae Innes the night before, bit leaving oot the bit aboot him knowing that Morven hid been sitting at the burn, waiting fur him tae show up.
“It sounds serious. Is he alright?”
“Oh aye, Innes is an auld buck. He’s used tae hivving a few bumps, dents and bashes. It’s pathetic, though, so it is. Jist before Ah left tae come doon here, Ah nipped up tae see him in his bed. Baith him and Tim wur lying back, feeling sorry fur themsels, wae their arses aw bandaged up. Tim seems quite happy that he’s back in the hoose, although if he starts farting, he’ll be licking his wounds back oot in the barn again.
“So, what’s the favour?” she enquired.
“Right, Ah know this is gonnae sound really strange, bit ye hiv tae trust me,” he replied, looking her straight intae they lovely blue eyes ae hers.
“Go on.”
“Ah need ye tae heid back tae the castle and ask yer pal boss, The Gardener’s Daughter, tae come up here. Ah’d like a word wae her.”
“Saba? You want to talk to Saba? Up here?” she exclaimed, looking aboot nervously.
“Aye.”
“What about?”
“Noo, this is where your trust needs tae come in, Morven. No only dae Ah want ye tae ask her tae come up here, bit Ah want tae talk tae her own ma lonesome, withoot you being here.”
Silence.
“I don’t understand,” she blurted oot, clearly confused.
“Ye’ll hiv tae trust me.”
“But, I, er...”
“Ah widnae ask ye tae dae this if Ah didnae think it wis important…very important,” he stressed. “Look, Ah’m no gonnae herm her, if that’s whit ye’re thinking.”
Silence.
“Alright…if that’s what you wish me to do,” she agreed, nae sounding too convinced.
“I don’t know how long it’ll take me. She may be having supper with The Duke.”
“Fae whit Ah kin gather, even Ah’d be better company fur her than him,” he said, smiling.
“How long have I got?”
“Take as long as ye want. Ah’ll wait until it’s getting dark. Oh, and by the way, Morven, kin ye ask her tae bring a map ae Scotland wae her, if she’s goat wan?” Paul called efter her, as she made her way doon the path towards the castle.
Paul lay back, closed his eyes and thought aboot the chaos ae the previous night. Packer hid heided towards Rosehall, by cutting across the bridge jist ootside Lairg that Paul hid passed oan the way in. Efter crossing the bridge, he’d heided alang wee winding roads and through whit Packer telt him wis Shin Forest, until they came tae the River Oykel at Rosehall. Packer hid slowed tae a crawl as he pointed the nose ae the van towards the river and drapped intae first gear, praying loudly, as he slowly made his way across the ford, before heiding up the road taewards Wester Achnahanat. By the time they’d reached the croft, a couple ae big kettles ae water hid been bubbling oan tap ae the stove. Whitey hid dragged a table through fae the sitting room, which hid allowed her tae extend the table that Innes wis lying oan. She’d also managed tae put a blanket and a clean sheet oan the tap ae that, tae take away the hardness ae the wooden surface and tae make it a bit mair comfortable fur him. She’d also nipped oot tae the barn and hid somehow managed tae entice Tim intae the hoose where he’d lain watching whit wis gaun oan roond aboot him fae a blanket in front ae the fire in the range.
“Oh Whitey, how is he?” Struana hid squealed, dashing across and peering intae Innes’s face.
“I’m not dead yet, Struana,” Innes hid said gruffly, gieing her a wee sickly smile.
“It’s Tim I’m asking about…the poor baby,” Struana hid said, moving aff across tae the hearth and patting Tim oan the heid.
“Right, everyone, I’m the vet…or should I say the doctor…which means I’m in charge. So, whatever I say goes. Have we all got that?” Packer hid announced.
“Do you know why they call Packer, Packer, Paul?” Innes hid asked him.
“Don’t listen to a word he says, Paul,” Packer hid said, unpacking the bag he’d brought wae him and laying oot the contents oan tap ae the sideboard beside the patient.
“For the past thirty years he’s been packing the wounds of every sheep, goat, pig and cow in the Highlands.”
“So, ye’ve done this before then, Packer?” Paul hid asked, relieved.
“Well, I’ve taken buckshot out of a few mangy old dogs that have got in the way of some of these old blind gentlemen when they’ve been up here shooting birds.”
“Ask him the survival rate,” Innes hid persisted.
“Right, Whitey and Struana, get into that sink and wash your hands,” Packer hid commanded, throwing Whitey a bar ae carbolic soap, still in it’s wrapper, as he started tae remove Innes’s bandages.
“Whit aboot me then?” Paul hid asked.
“I’ll get you to hold him down in a minute, laddie,” Packer hid said, peering at the bloody seeping holes that wur scattered aboot the tap ae Innes’s leg and arse cheek.
Paul hid looked at the stuff oan tap ae the sideboard that Packer hid brought. There wis a couple ae bottles ae iodine, saline solution, penicillin, a vial ae anti-tetanus, a couple ae syringes and different sizes ae forceps. Packer hid placed the instruments in a silver dish and Struana hid poured boiling water o’er them.
“Right, Innes, this is going to hurt you more than it will hurt me, you’ll be glad to hear. I’ll need to get out as much of that buckshot as I can,” Packer hid apologised, haunin Innes a glass full ae malt whisky which Innes hid gulped doon, as Packer painted yellow iodine across his wounds wae a wee sponge.
It hid been agony tae watch and listen tae. Packer hid spent aboot an hour and a hauf digging intae the holes, picking oot the buckshot wae the forceps. The clanging sound ae it landing oan the bottom ae Innes’s tin shaving cup hid made Paul jump every time he’d heard wan land. Wance Packer hid felt he’d goat oot as much as he could under the circumstances, he’d washed oot all the holes wae saline solution, swabbed mair iodine o’er Innes’s arse and bandaged up the wounds, before carrying a pished-drunk and groaning Innes up tae his bed, wae Paul’s help. Wance Innes hid been put tae his kip, Packer hid gied him a tetanus injection and a shot ae penicillin, then haunded o’er a box ae penicillin tablets tae Whitey, telling her that Innes hid tae take them three times daily fur two weeks, tae hopefully stoap any infection setting in.
“Right, Tim. I’m afraid, there’s no dram for you, son,” Packer hid said gently, efter they’d tripped back doon the stairs and Paul hid helped him tae lift Tim up oan tae the table.
Whitey hid burned the blood-soaked blanket, sheet and dressing swabs in an auld oil drum oot the back ae the hoose wance they’d put Innes tae bed and Tim hid been seen tae. Packer hid demonstrated how the poachers’ retreat worked tae Struana. Whitey awready knew the mechanics ae it as Innes hid showed her a number ae times o’er the years.
“There should be a law against using them and the people who construct them,” Struana hid said, horrified, yet fascinated by it.
“There is, but who’s going to impose the law against The Duke about here?” Whitey hid mused.
Packer hid telt them that o’er the past ten years he’d hid tae dae the same medical clean-up operation four times.
“Oh, they’re quite a deterrent. When the local boys know that there are poachers’ retreats on the go, they stay well clear, unless of course, they have a dog like Tim who’s been trained-up to detect them. I’m surprised Innes was caught out.”
“Innes said that Tim sussed oot the first wan, nae bother. By the time Innes hid dismantled it, Tim wis daeing a pish and Innes hid walked o’er tae the other side ae the wee glade that they wur in. He said he didnae even feel the trip-wire. Aw he heard wis a loud explosion, alang wae a feeling that he’d been hit oan the side wae a sledge hammer. He’d cursed like buggery fur being so stupid
as tae set wan aff. He said that when Tim noticed that he wis oan the go, he’d trotted forward tae try and get in front ae Innes and wis jist passing him oan the right, when the baith ae them copped it. He reckons his legs protected Tim fae getting the worst ae it. If the dug hid been oan the other side ae him, he wid’ve caught the full blast. He said that this is the first time he’s come across a double set-up. Innes tried tae staun up, bit he wis stuck fast in the middle ae the gorse bush that he’d keeled o’er intae when he went doon. Wance he goat his bearings, Tim wis awready staunin o’er him and Innes jist pulled oot his whistle and blew. Tim automatically turned and heided back tae the croft. Innes said he’d prayed that Tim wid make it back as he’d been scared that the dug hid lost too much blood,” Paul hid telt them.
“Are we ever going to be free of these accursed people?” Struana hid cursed bitterly.
It must’ve been aboot two o’clock in the morning by the time Packer and Struana finally left. Fur maist ae the night, apart fae when Whitey nipped up tae see if Innes wis okay every noo and again, the four ae them hid reminisced aboot past times, living under the shadow ae the estate landlords. Paul hid listened, enthralled by some ae the near-misses that Packer and Innes hid hid wae The Duke and the Sellars o’er the years. Despite whit hid happened earlier, the four ae them hid been buckled up wae laughter. Struana hid asked Whitey tae tell Paul how she and Innes hid met.
“This is like something out of a fairy-tale,” Struana hid cooed, aw misty-eyed.
“More like a nightmare for poor Whitey. If only she’d known then what she was letting herself in for,” Packer hid come back wae, a cheeky grin spread across his coupon.
Whitey hid explained a wee bit aboot the background tae their first encounter. She’d explained how hersel and her family hid fled fae Russia and settled in Estonia. Efter a few years, they’d come tae Scotland as part ae a European tour. The family hid actually stayed in Culrain Castle as guests ae the auld Duke and Dowager Duchess. Wan day, the two families hid gone oot fur a wee tour locally and hid ended up in Lairg. It hid been early evening and they’d been sitting by the banks ae Loch Shin, when a boat full ae people hid come sailing by. The boat, wae its stripy canvas canopy above aw the seated guests, hid been decked oot wae lanterns fae wan end tae the other. It hid been a wedding party. As the auld Duke and Duchess, alang wae Whitey’s family, hid sat watching the boat passing, some guy hid been staunin in the middle ae everybody, singing ‘Ae Fond Kiss’, a song by Rabbie Burns, who wis some famous poet that Paul hidnae heard ae. Whitey hid said that it wis the maist beautiful song she’d ever heard in her life.
“It was there and then that I decided that I was going to marry the man who was singing that beautiful love song. Anyone who had a voice like that must surely have been blessed by something greater than nature itself,” Whitey hid said, as a wee tear ran doon her cheek.
Her family hid been appalled, bit she’d insisted. Her father hid threatened tae cut her aff, bit she’d stuck tae her guns. Whitey hid managed tae find oot who the singer wis through talking tae wan ae the maids up at the castle and when the time hid come fur her family, who wur quite wealthy, tae move oan, she’d gone tae live wae a family in Lairg. By the time that her money hid run oot, she’d managed tae get hersel a wee job as a seamstress oan wan ae the local estates. She hidnae been too depressed aboot her situation, as she’d managed tae track Innes doon and hid soon made it clear tae him whit her intentions wur. She’d never heard fae her family again.
“And that was that. Poor old Innes didn’t have a chance of escape after that,” Packer hid said, and they’d aw burst oot laughing
Efter Packer and Struana hid left and Whitey hid gone tae her bed, Paul hid lain in his, trying tae take in everything that hid happened, no only that day, bit o’er the past few weeks. He’d awready made up his mind and hid awready telt Innes and Whitey that he wis planning tae leave the croft tae heid back tae Glesga the following weekend. He’d wondered how Whitey wid manage oan the croft until Innes wis up oan his feet. The croft wis tiny, by local croft standards, bit there wis still a lot ae work involved. Whitey hid telt him that despite whit hid happened tae Innes, he should still go aheid wae his plans. Paul hid lain awake, wae his hauns behind his heid, gaun o’er his options fur maist ae the night. He’d waited years tae be liberated, but noo that it wis almost upon him, he felt trapped. He’d wanted tae get up oot ae that bed ae his and heid straight doon tae the castle tae knock fuck oot ae George Sellar again, he’d been that angry. Efter his run-in wae The Duke oan the railway bridge, he’d realised that, although Innes and Whitey wur nae mugs, they still wurnae fit tae staun up tae The Duke and the Sellars. Age didnae seem tae be a bar when it came tae being targeted by the castle, he’d thought grimly, when he wis pounding alang the road tae Lairg in search ae Packer. It hid been during the run that an idea hid began tae formulate in that napper ae his. It wis totally mental, bit he couldnae see any possibility ae it no working oot, apart fae the fact that he’d need tae convince Innes, Whitey and The Gardener’s Daughter. It wis that last part that gied him cause tae worry. He wondered how desperate she really wis tae get away fae her auld man. Withoot her involvement and agreement, he wisnae too sure whit he should dae next.
Chapter Thirty
“What? He wants to speak to me…now?” Saba exclaimed, looking surprised, as Morven took a seat oan the bottom ae the bed.
“That’s what he said,” Morven replied.
Morven hid hung aboot ootside the dining room door fur the past hour, feeling like a skulking burglar, trying tae catch Saba’s eye and getting suspicious-looking glances fae the other staff who wur coming and gaun, erms full ae trays.
“What does he want?”
“He wouldn’t say. He asked me to trust him.”
“To do what?”
“Not to ask why he wanted to meet with you.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t think you should go.”
“Why?”
Morven reminded her aboot the ootcome ae Innes’s court appearance and went oan tae explain that Innes hid been shot up in Rhelonie Wood.
“Is he alright?”
“Yes, I think so. Rhelonie Wood is part of the estate though.”
“What kind of contraption is a poachers’ retreat? I’ve never heard of one before.”
Morven explained as best she could, given she’d never actually seen wan before either, although everywan in the area knew aboot them.
“He’s a lovely kind person, despite the run-ins he’s had with your father and the Sellar boys, Saba, but you saw what he did in the boxing ring. He might…be up to something by using you to get to your father…I just don’t know,” Morven groaned, feelings ae disloyalty and doubt towards Paul welling up inside her.
“What? Hurt me? Do you really think so?”
“No, but I don’t know what else to think,” Morven replied, wringing her hauns before staunin up and pacing the room.
“Where is he now?”
“He’s waiting at the burn.”
“Well, why don’t we just go up and see what he wants? He won’t do anything if there are two of us…would he?”
“He wants to speak to you on your own.”
“No, I’m not going up there on my own. If he wants to speak to me, he’ll have to come and speak to me where I’ll feel a bit more comfortable. I’m not prepared to take any more cheek off Lost Boy...not after the abuse he’s given me. He knows where I am,” Saba said wae finality, switching oan the radio and fumbling wae the dial, o’er by the windae where she hoped tae get a signal. A big smile appeared oan her face when The Ballad ae John and Yoko filled the room.
“Do you think he’ll still be there?” Saba asked Morven, aboot an hour efter they’d moved oan fae their conversation aboot Paul.
“I don’t know. He said he’d wait until it started to get dark,” Morven replied, looking at the sky through wan ae the wee glass windaes.
“Right, tell me what he said agai
n, exactly, word for word.”
Morven went o’er the conversation she’d hid up at the burn.
“Oh, and he asked me to tell you to bring a map of Scotland, if you had one.”
Chapter Thirty One
Paul sat watching The Gardener’s Daughter take her time walking up the path. He hid almost gied up hope that she wis gonnae show up. She wis oan her lonesome. He’d awready worked oot his tactic oan how tae approach the subject. He’d keep his cool and turn oan the charm. If it worked oan Morven, he didnae see why it widnae dae the same wae the carrot-heid who’d stoapped aboot ten feet away fae him, looking aboot her like a nervous deer, hauf expecting a net tae drap doon oan tae her at any second.
“Thanks fur coming,” he said, no noticing any sign ae a map in her hauns.
“You wanted to speak to me?”
“Aye, Ah did. Come o’er and sit doon fur a minute…Ah promise Ah won’t bite ye,” he replied, feeling uncomfortable aboot her nervousness.
“I’m fine standing here.”
“Suit yersel then,” he said shrugging, staunin up and facing her.
She’d a pair ae slacks oan, wae a cream sleeveless tap, underneath a dark green cardigan. He knew the tap wis sleeveless because he goat a wee swatch ae the tap ae her bare shoulder as she swatted at the midgies that wur trying tae hiv their supper aff ae her. She wis carrying a wee satchel, that wis strapped across her chest, separating her paps.
“Let’s go for a walk. I’m getting eaten alive,” she said nervously, turning and walking back the way she’d come.
“Whit’s the score wae that auld man ae yers then?”
“How do you mean?”
“How come ye want tae piss aff fae a nice wee set-up like this, where ye’ve goat everything a poor lassie could ever wish fur?”
“I need to get back to New York. The only way I can do that is by going to my grandmother’s house in England. She’s the only one who’ll help me.”