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by Gwen Kirkwood


  ‘We’ll give you a rest from the milking tonight, Mum, if Steven will carry the milk instead of me?’ Megan grinned up at him. ‘That’s a harder job than milking the cows but it’s my job until I go to college in the autumn. It saves us having a boy living in and Dad pays me the wages instead. It will help with my expenses for books and things.’

  ‘I don’t mind carrying the milk to the dairy.’ He looked down into her upturned face and chuckled. ‘At least I shall manage to pour the milk over the cooler. However do you reach it?’

  ‘Dad fixed me up with a wooden trestle to stand on.’

  ‘I should think it’s still hard work lifting buckets of milk up to the pan?’

  ‘I’m tougher than I look.’ She tossed her head and her eyes sparkled.

  ‘You’re not much taller than when I went away, not like Natalie Turner. I didn’t recognised her.’

  ‘You’ve seen Natalie?’

  ‘Yes, she was riding on the tractor with her father. She had her hair in a roll. You’ve cut your hair, Megan.’

  ‘I couldn’t keep schoolgirl pleats for ever.’

  ‘No I suppose not. It suits you anyway the way it curls round your face and onto your shoulders, but I shall miss not having those long pleats to tug.’ He grinned then sobered. ‘You should have sent me a photograph.’

  ‘I pin it up in a bun under a hat when I’m in the byre.’ She pulled a face at him. ‘Like Granny McKnight used to do? Do you remember?’

  ‘Yes I do. That was before Mr Turner installed the milking machine. I remember she milked cows as fast as everyone else, even your Dad, although she was an old woman. She was always threatening to chase Sam and me with the byre broom, or tan the hide off us.’

  ‘Funny,’ she said innocently, ‘she never threatened me.’

  ‘That wee dimple still betrays you when you’re trying not to laugh, Megan. You never could keep a straight face when you played tricks on Sam and me.’ The light died from her eyes.

  ‘I still miss him terribly, Steven. We haven’t even a grave.’ Her voice wobbled and he wanted to hug her. At one time he would have done it but he remembered the feel of her and her blushes. She was growing up.

  ‘I miss him too, Megan,’ he said quietly. ‘I reckon I always shall.’

  ‘I know.’ She swallowed then gave him a wavering smile. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where the milk pails are.’

  ‘Sometimes we were sent out to farms to help with hay or harvest when we were in camp. I never missed a chance to look around. I’ve dreamed of nothing else but getting back to farming. Now…’ he shrugged his shoulders, ‘now my future is a blank.’

  ‘All the local farmers think you should have been the one to stay home and farm. None of them have much respect for Fred, or his methods but that doesn’t help, does it?’

  ‘No. I’d like a good long walk around the old haunts after the milking is finished. Will you come with me?’

  ‘After supper, I’d love to, if you’re sure you don’t want to go dancing. There’s one in the village hall?’

  ‘I’d rather go for a walk,’ he smiled, ‘but if you…’

  ‘No, I just thought you might be missing the social life.’

  ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve longed for the hills and glens of home or how much I appreciate your letters Megan. I hope you’ll still have time to write to me when you go to college?’

  ‘Of course I shall.’ She blushed shyly. ‘I love getting your letters too.’

  Steven was kept busy emptying the milking units and carrying the milk to the dairy while Megan and her father milked the cows down each side of the byre. By the time they had washed down the stalls and taken the cows back to pasture they were hungry for supper.

  ‘Natalie Turner called while you were all at the milking,’ Mrs Oliphant told them as she carried a steaming dish of cheese pudding to the table.

  ‘Natalie? She called here?’ Megan echoed in surprise.

  ‘I think she hoped to catch Steven. Her father is letting her borrow his car tonight. She wondered if you would like to go to the dancing in Dumfries.’

  ‘Oh Megan,’ Steven said contritely, ‘you should have told me you and Natalie usually go to the dancing.’

  ‘I’ve never been to a dance in town.’ Natalie Turner barely gave her the time of day. Her heart sank. It was Steven Natalie wanted to drive to the dancing and she was used to getting her heart’s desire.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Mrs Oliphant said. ‘I told Natalie you had other plans but I said you would telephone her if you decided to go to the dance instead. She said something about using her influence to help you with your little project, Steven.’

  ‘Did she…?’ Steven frowned. ‘I asked Mr Turner if he would give me a reference if I put my name down for the tenancy of a government small holding,’ he explained. He had been looking forward to an evening walk with Megan up the glen and through the long wood where they used to gather the bluebells and play at pirates but he didn’t want to offend the Turners. He didn’t know who else he could ask to give him a farming reference. He didn’t know anyone else with Mr Turner’s influence so it wouldn’t do to offend his only daughter.

  Six

  Steven was quiet as they all tucked into their evening meal but when they were all replete he began to tell John Oliphant about his mother’s suggestion that he should try to get a government smallholding to rent. He had always been able to talk to Sam’s father and he knew he would give him an honest opinion.

  ‘She wants to give me her savings to help me get started with a couple of cows and some hens and a sow, but I can’t help feeling it would be wrong to accept her offer, even if I was lucky enough to get a government holding.’

  John Oliphant considered for a minute or two.

  ‘I reckon your mother is right. You should stand a good chance of getting the tenancy of a government holding after serving your country for the past five years. As to the financing I’m sure she knows what she wants to do with her own money, Steven. She obviously feels she can trust you. I’d say it would be all right to accept her help so long as you never forget what she’s done for you, and you’re willing to help her in return if ever she needs you. Sometimes we have to take a chance in life.’

  ‘That’s what young Crosby said about his father’s buses,’ Steven smiled. ‘He’s full of plans too. I hope I’d never neglect my own mother, whether I borrow her money or not,’ Steven said slowly. He looked around the table at them all and nodded his head. ‘All right then, I’ll make enquiries about the government holdings and if you can put up with me until Monday morning, I’ll go into the bank and do as she asked before I catch the train back to camp.’ He sighed. ‘It will take forever to build up a farm like Willowburn from nothing.’

  ‘You have a lifetime ahead of you, laddie. Deal with things one at a time and plan carefully. You’ll be proud to be your own man and I reckon you’ll do all right for yourself one day,’ John Oliphant said.

  ‘I agree with John,’ Mrs Oliphant nodded, ‘Besides Steven, supposing you did come back to live at Willowburn, how would you and Fred get on when you both want to get married? Where would you live? Could you ever agree about the work, or about money? I don’t think Fred would be easy to deal with. I think your mother is wise to separate you now, even though your father would have liked you at Willowburn and even if it does mean a struggle at the beginning. I agree with John. I’m sure you’ll work hard and make a success and you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing it’s all your own efforts.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought as far ahead as needing a house to get married,’ Steven admitted ruefully. ‘I can’t imagine anybody wanting me anyway until I make a decent living.’ He sighed unconsciously. ‘Goodness knows when that will be, if ever.’ His brooding gaze slid to Megan, then away again.

  ‘You’ll probably do better than you think, lad,’ John Oliphant consoled him, ‘and at least you’ll be free to make your own decisions.’

  ‘If I’m lucky
enough to get a tenancy,’ Steven reminded him.

  ‘I wonder how Natalie thought she could help you get one?’ Chrissie mused curiously. Steven looked at her.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ he shrugged. ‘I asked her father for a reference. Do you think he’ll change his mind if we don’t accept his daughter’s invitation to go dancing?’

  ‘Mr Turner isna likely to go back on his word,’ John Oliphant said. ‘We don’t always agree about the way he likes things done with the dairy herd, but he’s a man you can respect. He ruins that lassie of his, but if he’s the man I think he is, he’ll never allow young Natalie to influence him about business affairs.’

  Steven glanced across at Megan as she sat listening and watching in silence. Her lovely eyes were troubled. He longed to banish the shadows.

  ‘I would rather go for a walk than spend the evening in a stuffy dance hall. What about you Megan?’

  ‘I’d like to go for a walk,’ she said promptly. Chrissie looked at her daughter. It was as though a light had been switched on inside her the way her smile lit up her face and made her green eyes sparkle. Her mother’s heart felt a pang of misgiving. Megan had known Steven all her life but she was so young. She had her career to consider and, on his own admission, it could be years before Steven could afford a wife. First love could hurt so much.

  ‘I’ll have a wee nap while you two are out,’ Mr Oliphant said, ‘then we can have a chat when you come back, Steven. Eh, but it’s good to have you here, laddie.’

  ***

  Natalie Turner couldn’t believe her eyes as she turned from preening in front of her mirror and glanced out of her bedroom window. Steven and Megan were strolling up the sloping field where the cows were grazing. Why wasn’t Steven getting ready for the dancing? She stared incredulously. They stopped every now and then to talk. How easily they laughed together. Even from a distance Natalie could sense the warmth and companionship between them but she couldn’t believe any young man could prefer a walk with the daughter her father’s herdsman rather than go dancing with her. Fury swelled in her chest, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed in a thin line. Steven Caraford hadn’t been given a choice, that had to be the explanation. Chrissie Oliphant had not passed on her invitation. She’d deliberately kept it to herself. Silently she vowed to have her revenge. The Oliphants needed reminding they were only employees and employees could lose their jobs, and be made to move on.

  ***

  It was a beautiful summer evening and Steven felt calmed by the sights and sounds around him. Megan’s easy companionship was like balm to his troubled spirit. They had known each other too long and too well for any pretence between them. Even their silences were comfortable and he gave a sigh of contentment.

  ‘I can’t wait to be finished with the army and start living my own life back here in Scotland, even if there’s no place for me at home.’

  ‘But you have done well in the army, Steven.’

  ‘I only did what scores of others have done,’ he said simply. ‘I didn’t do it for promotion. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a Corporal.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘One good thing though, the pay went up from three shillings a day to four and three pence and it hasna been so bad; the others didn’t seem to bear any resentment.’

  ‘I’m sure your fellow soldiers respect you.’

  ‘I hope they do because the C.O. hinted I could be in line for promotion to Sergeant now we’re being sent to Palestine. I was too disappointed at not being demobbed to pay much attention. All I’d thought about was getting back to Willowburn.’

  ‘I know. Your letters told me that, Stevie,’ Megan sympathised, ‘but perhaps your mother is wise. You would have hated constant quarrels. I think you will be happier farming on your own, even if you do have to start off small.’

  ‘Ye-es, the more I think about it I think you’re probably right,’ he sighed. ‘It was a shock to find I wasna welcome though. One good thing, if I do get made a sergeant I’d get double what I earned as a private and I have even more incentive to earn extra money now. It will be a long struggle but I think I should enjoy the challenge and the freedom to make my own decisions.’

  Steven helped Megan over the fence into the wood where they had spent so may happy hours as children. It was inevitable that their thoughts should turn to Sam. They sat for a while on the little hill in the middle of the wood. It had been a fortress and a pirate ship, a desert island and a castle under siege. In fact, in their childish imagination, it could have been anything.

  ‘Poor Megan,’ Steven grinned, lifting her hand and stroking her fingers, ‘we always left you to tag along, didn’t we? Come on we’d better make a move. Race you to the edge of the wood.’

  ‘Oh,’ Megan gasped, as they reached the far side, ‘I’d forgotten we’d have to cross the burn and they’ve taken away the planks we used to use.’

  ‘We’ll just have to jump across then,’ Steven grinned. ‘We had to face worse obstacles than this in the army.’

  ‘It’s all right for you with your long legs,’ Megan said indignantly, giving him a poke in the ribs.

  ‘Be good or I shall leave you here,’ he teased her, as he and Sam had done when they were children. She sighed.

  ‘We had some happy times didn’t we?’

  ‘Aye and nobody can take away our memories, Meggie. Come on, I’ll roll that big stone into the middle of the burn. Then you can jump from it to the other side. I’ll go first and catch you.’

  ‘All right, but if you let me fall in I shall get my own back,’ she warned, her eyes glinting. She watched Steven leap across with ease. She stepped across to the stone and balanced precariously. She still had more than half way to jump.

  ‘I don’t think I can jump that far.’

  ‘Of course you can.’ Steven reassured her. ‘Grab my hand as you jump.’

  Megan jumped. Steven grabbed her and together they fell backwards on the bank of the burn, breathless and laughing. Their eyes met. Time seemed to stand still. Steven was intensely aware of Megan’s small soft body lying half on top of him. He knew by the flare of emotion in her eyes that she was fully aware of his feelings, and possibly even shared them. But this was not the time or the place to find out, certainly not with Megan, his trusting young friend. He scrambled to his feet and helped her up. There was a slight tension between them now but he kept hold of her hand and they continued their walk. Gradually the old easy familiarity was restored, at least on the surface, and when Natalie Turner saw them returning, they were walking hand in hand, happy and smiling with the ease of old friends.

  Steven enjoyed the weekend. He accompanied Megan and her father to morning service at the parish church. He thought his mother might be there too but she wasn’t. The Turners were in their usual pew at the front and he knew he had offended her when Natalie scowled at them on her way out. On Monday morning he was up early to help Megan and her father with the milking before he left. The Oliphants were allowed to keep a pig and a few hens and they had free milk and potatoes, all as part of their wages. Chrissie made them a huge breakfast of porridge and cream, followed by her famous tattie scones, bacon, eggs, mushrooms fresh from the field, and newly baked soda scone.

  Natalie had been up earlier than usual too. She rarely ventured near the farm yard but she was determined to waylay Steven on his way from the dairy.

  ‘Father says you’re leaving today. I’ll drive you to the station, Steven,’ she said. He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, and with his head on one side as he tried to decide whether it was a command or an invitation. Then he gave a crooked smile.

  ‘That’s kind of you, Natalie, but I must decline your offer. You see I have some business to do before I catch my train and I made my appointment to fit in with the bus. Another time perhaps?’ Without waiting for an answer he went on his way back to the byre with the empty buckets leaving Natalie frustrated and angry.

  Later he offered no objections when Chrissie Oliphant suggested Megan might accompany him on the bus.
‘Miss Byers has ordered some knitting wool for me and you could collect it while Steven is seeing to his own affairs. It would be nice for him to have someone to wave him off at the station.’ She turned to Steven. ‘It will be a long while before we see you again, laddie. Just remember there’ll always be a welcome for ye at our fireside.’ Chrissie was sincere in her offer but she was secretly relieved that Steven would be tied up with the army for another eighteen months. While he was away she hoped Megan would settle down at teacher training college rather than throw away the opportunity of a good career.

  Steven thanked them for their hospitality.

  ‘You’ve earned it lad. You’ve helped at every milking,’ John Oliphant said. ‘You’ve given Chrissie a wee holiday.’

  ‘You have indeed, Steven.’ She hugged him warmly and he knew the tears were not far away as she pretended to brush a speck off his uniform. He guessed she was thinking of Sam.

  Megan enjoyed the journey on the bus down to Annan, squashed between the window and Steven. It made her heart flutter to be pressed so close against him, but when it came to saying good bye at the station she couldn’t hold back a few tears. Steven cupped her face in his hands and kissed them away.

  ‘Good bye, Megan,’ he said huskily. He looked down into her face as though memorising every feature. Megan trembled, praying fervently that he would come back safely. ‘Write to me?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ she whispered, then to her eternal joy Steven bent his head again and kissed her mouth with lingering tenderness. The train was about to chug away before he jumped on board and she stood, waving until it was out of sight.

  ***

  About a week later John Oliphant hurried up to Martinwold house in agitation.

  ‘Can I speak to Mr Turner please? It’s urgent,’ he gasped the moment Natalie answered his ring on the door bell.

  ‘I’ll give my father a message,’ she said haughtily, ‘he’s engaged right now.’ John hesitated but he couldn’t argue with her.

 

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