‘It’s urgent,’ he repeated anxiously. ‘One of our best Ayrshire cows was lying dead in the field when I gathered in the others this morning. I think she had milk fever but your father should know right away. He’ll need to call the vet to do a blood test in case it’s anthrax. I can’t move her until we know but we don’t want to leave her lying there any longer than necessary for passers by to see.’
He would have waited at the door for Mr Turner’s instructions but Natalie nodded, her eyes gleamed and she turned away and closed the door in John Oliphant’s face. She knew how much store her father set on appearances. He would hate anyone to see his herdsman left dead animals lying around but she deliberately ignored the urgency of the message. She skipped upstairs to her bedroom instead of returning to the dining room where Murdoch Turner was reading the morning paper and sipping leisurely at his third cup of coffee.
Mr Turner enjoyed riding his big chestnut hunter and he frequently galloped over his own fields, often stopping to inspect a fence or examine a crop, or simply to enjoy his property. It was after midday when he galloped home along the edge of the cow pasture next to the road. He was dismayed when he saw a dead animal, now bloated and grotesque only twenty yards from the roadside. He was furious. How could John Oliphant have missed her? He must have known she was missing from her stall when he brought the rest of the herd in for the morning milking. Why had he not searched for her? Why had he not reported it? Was the man growing careless? He rode angrily into the yard, slid from his horse and hammered on the farmhouse door with his whip.
Chrissie Oliphant answered immediately. She saw at once that something had annoyed their boss and her heart quailed. She knew the dead cow was one of the best in the herd but she had shown no sign of milk fever when John had looked round the herd just before bed time.
‘Where’s your husband?’ Mr Turner demanded.
‘He-he’s been hanging around in the yard all morning waiting for ye. He-he didn’t want to move the cow in case it was anthrax. He thought you would get the vet to see her first, though he’s fairly certain it was milk fever. She’s only been calved a couple of days.’
‘How the h…’ he bit back the expletive as he focused on Chrissie Oliphant’s anxious face. He frowned. ‘How could I get the vet until he told me the…?’ he bit back another oath with an effort. ‘when he never told me the cow was dead?’ he snapped.
‘B-but he went up to the house straight after milking to tell you…’ Chrissie said in bewilderment. ‘He was upset. He doesn’t like to lose a cow any more than you do, Mr Turner.’ Chrissie pulled herself erect, bristling in defence of her husband now. John was a good, conscientious herdsman. ‘Shall I go and find him for you?’
‘No, I’ll look for him in the yard.’ Mr Turner hurried away. He was still seething when he returned home for his dinner. Natalie would never forget to give him a message like that. She would know how important it was to deal with the dead animal immediately. John Oliphant must have forgotten and now he had the effrontery to blame his daughter.
Natalie was not at home for lunch so he couldn’t get the matter off his chest. When he did see her later that evening she didn’t answer his question directly.
‘You’ve had the Oliphants a long time, father,’ she said. ‘They probably regard the cows as their own property by now and think they can do what they like. Perhaps it’s time they moved on? Gosh I’m tired. I think I’ll have an early night.’ Without waiting for a reply she went off to her room with her new library book.
Murdoch Turner was still annoyed with his herdsman when he went to bed. He was getting undressed when he realised Natalie had not actually answered his question about John Oliphant leaving a message. He admitted it was not the death of the cow that had vexed him. Such things happened in the best of herds and at least it had not been anthrax. It was the fact that it had lain out in the field on public view most of the day and Oliphant had failed to see it, or forgotten to tell him. He scowled and stopped in the middle of slipping his bracers from his shoulders.
‘What’s wrong, dear?’ his wife asked. ‘You look like a thundercloud. Have you got indigestion?’
‘Of course not.’ He looked at her. ‘Do you know if anyone came to the house asking for me at breakfast time this morning?’
‘Only John Oliphant. Natalie attended to him. There was no one else as far as I know. Why?’
‘I see…’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘Do you think Natalie has it in for the Olpihants for some reason?’ he asked slowly. ‘She’s hinted more than once that I should replace them.’
‘Oh surely you wouldn’t do that! They’re a decent family and both John and Chrissie are hard workers. They care for the cattle as though they were their own.’
‘Yes, you’re right of course.’ He was feeling calmer now. He tried to treat his workers well but he didn’t like people letting him down. He felt it was a reflection on his judgment. ‘I wonder what they’ve done to upset Natalie?’ he mused. His wife smiled.
‘I doubt if the Oliphants have done anything except have a handsome young soldier for their guest. Didn’t you notice how Natalie mooned about looking out for Steven Caraford when he was staying with them? Your daughter is no longer a wee girl, Murdoch. She’s a young woman and she’s not used to being ignored, however unintentionally. I suspect Steven was a challenge to her vanity. You’d better get used to her eying up young men. Now finish getting undressed dear and let’s get to bed.’
The following morning Mr Turner’s anger had cooled but he let Natalie know he knew about her subterfuge and he didn’t like it. His sense of justice reasserted itself too, much to her chagrin. He lost no time in apologising to his herdsman but he could not admit to John Oliphant that his daughter had been at fault.
***
The months flew past and Megan settled into her new life at college, much to her mother’s relief. Chrissie knew the regular exchange of letters with Steven still continued but she didn’t mind that so long as Megan got through college and completed her teacher training. She was as proud as if he’d been her own son when Megan told them he had received promotion and was now Sergeant Steven Caraford.
Megan shared the news with Maryanne, a fellow student who came from the other side of Dornielea village. They always travelled to and from college together. The other students teased her about her mystery boyfriend in the army. They didn’t know Steven always kept his letters light and friendly, with no hint of the deeper feelings Megan longed for. The memory of his kiss at the station was like a secret treasure.
Seven
The eighteen months passed more quickly than either Steven or Megan had thought possible. Megan was almost halfway through her second year at college and looking forward to going home for Christmas when Steven wrote to tell her his battalion would be home soon. She wondered how he felt and what he meant to do. She knew he had written to the Department of Agriculture ages ago, asking for his name to be included in a list of prospective tenants for one of their smallholdings. The reply had been brief and disappointing, advising him to write again, when he had a firm date for his return. His most recent letter was more optimistic.
I have written to Mr Turner to remind him of his promise to give me a reference, and I’m fairly sure my Commanding Officer will give me a good character, although he has asked several times if I wouldn’t reconsider and make the army my career instead. He doesn’t understand how I long to get back to Scotland, and how much I want animals of my own to care for and land to keep them on.
Dearest Megan, there are other things I long for too but I’m in no position to mention them until I know what the future holds and until I have some prospect of security. I fear that may not be for a long time yet. ’
Megan read the letter repeatedly. What did Steven mean by other things he longed for? Was it possible he returned her feelings and yearned for her as she did for him? Was she reading too much into his letter? What if he loved someone else and had to wait until he had more money? Wha
t if…? Megan tortured herself with questions, her hopes soaring one moment and drowning in doubts the next.
***
The local land officer rated Steven’s chances of renting a holding as low to nil as far as he was concerned. Even though he knew Steven would be due home soon he didn’t bother to include his name in the shortlist for the senior officer’s consideration when a holding became vacant.
‘I thought I’d seen an application from a young soldier on top of the pile?’ the senior land officer remarked during a discussion of the applicants. ‘What was his name? And why isn’t he on the shortlist?’
‘His name is Caraford. I didn’t think he would be up to making a living from farming after six and a half years in the army,’ his colleague replied.
‘But he was farming before he joined up according to an earlier letter I read?’
‘I believe so. I don’t know the fellow but I do know his brother and his parents. Their farm was almost taken over a couple of years ago. The brother is an idle, sullen fellow. He refused to plough up permanent pasture to grow his quota of cereals until we ordered him to do it.’
‘Everybody was asked to plough extra land for maximum food production.’
‘I know that. He knew that. He didn’t care. The father seemed a decent enough fellow but I got the impression the son was in charge. The wife rears poultry and keeps pigs. It was mainly due to her efforts they got away with a warning. I don’t suppose the brother in the army will be any better, especially after being away so long. Shall we discuss the next applicant?’
‘No, not yet,’ the senior officer said, frowning at the papers he was studying. A few minutes later he looked up. ‘My younger brother was killed during the war,’ he said slowly.
‘Aye, we lost a lot of good men. Do you—?’
‘He didn’t want to join the services but they took him anyway. He wasn’t in a reserved occupation you see.’
‘Mmm, it was hard luck for some of them.’
‘It was, whatever way you look at it, Mr Wilson. Those who have survived have sacrificed years of their young lives for their country. According to one of the references, this young fellow…’ he glanced at a sheet of paper. ‘Sergeant Caraford, would have preferred to stay home and farm. That’s why he’s applying for a holding now. Mr Turner gives him a good reference. He says he’s willing to lend him a hand to get established so he must have faith in his ability.’
‘I suppose so,’ Wilson agreed reluctantly. He didn’t like his authority being questioned.
‘His commanding officer gives him an excellent reference too.’
‘He’s an army man. He’ll know nothing about farming.’
‘Maybe not, but he should be a good judge of men in general. I expect he’ll know who he can trust to do a good job and he says here that Caraford has initiative and he always volunteered to help with hay and harvest on the local farms when they were in camp. That doesn’t sound like an idle fellow.’
Wilson remained silent, scowling. He had already chosen the three men he thought should be on the short list. ‘I believe there could be another holding coming to let,’ he said. ‘One of the tenants is seriously ill and they have no family to follow on. Maybe we could add Caraford’s name to the shortlist for that holding?’
‘Very well. How big is that one?’
‘Thirty five acres.’ Wilson said shortly. It was less than half the acreage of the one under consideration.
‘I see. Should I assume you have your own favourite selected for the larger holding?’
‘The three I have selected are all good men in my opinion,’ Wilson said stiffly.
‘Very well, arrange the interviews for them.’
‘What about Caraford then?’
‘Put him on the shortlist for the next holding as soon as one becomes available. This way we need not delay the letting of the larger holding and if he proves as unsuitable as you seem to think there’ll be no harm done.’
‘Very good,’ Wilson said, assuming he would be doing the selection for the next holding himself and he wouldn’t be doing any favours for a relation of Fred Caraford.
***
Megan gave in to Maryanne’s plea to accompany her to the Dornielea Christmas dance, although she would have had more enthusiasm if Steven had been home in time. She was surprised to see Natalie there. She never attended any of the village functions or mixed with the locals if she could help it. She was even more astonished when Natalie made a point of coming across to talk, even taking a seat beside her. They rarely exchanged a greeting. Tonight Natalie had brought a group of friends from the Carlisle hospital where she worked as a secretary to one of the surgeons.
‘I had another letter from Steven a couple of days ago,’ Natalie said as though making casual conversation but managing to infer Steven was a regular correspondent. Megan summoned a smile with an effort. Steven had never mentioned that he was keeping in touch with Natalie.
‘We got a Christmas card too. He’s really looking forward to getting home.’
‘Oh he is. He always replies straight away to my letters,’ Natalie smiled sweetly.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Natalie,’ a deep voice said, over their heads. They looked up startled. One of the young men from the group had followed Natalie across the hall. She frowned.
‘Her father works for us.’ Megan heard the disparagement in her tone and knew that Natalie Turner would have brushed her aside like dust underfoot but the young man raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘So? She has a name presumably?’
‘Of course she does. Megan Oliphant. Doctor Gray,’ she muttered, making the introduction with obvious reluctance. Megan gave him an extra friendly smile but she was unaware that her green eyes were sparkling at Natalie’s forced response.
‘Lindsay - Lint to my friends and colleagues. Pleased to meet you, Megan.’ The young doctor grinned at her, ‘May I have this dance, please?’ Natalie gasped. She had assumed he had followed her across the room to be sure of dancing with her.
‘Thank you,’ Megan rose, relieved to be rescued. She never felt easy in Natalie’s company and she didn’t entirely trust her either, though she had no idea why.
‘How lightly you dance,’ Doctor Gray remarked. ‘It’s like holding the fairy queen in my arms.’
‘You’re pretty good at the dancing yourself, Doctor Gray,’ she quipped. She felt quite at ease with this smiling young man with the twinkling brown eyes.
‘Oh call me Lint. I saw you from my bedroom window this morning. You were walking across the farm yard carrying two large buckets with things like giant spiders dangling from them.’
‘You’re staying at Martinwold?’
‘Only until tomorrow. I’m on duty over Christmas.’
‘Oh I see. It’s as bad as being a dairyman. My parents have to milk the cows whatever day it is.’
‘Do you work with them on the farm?’
‘I always help when I’m at home from college.’
‘What are you doing at college? Damn,’ he said as the dance ended. ‘Can I have the next one? Please? I’d like to know all about you.’ The admiration in his eyes brought the pink to Megan’s cheeks. She was unaware of Natalie watching them closely and with displeasure. Rumours around the hospital said Dr. Gray came from a wealthy family. ‘So? What are you studying, Megan?’
‘I want to teach in primary school,’ she said. ‘I enjoy being with children.’
‘Children and animals?’
‘Yes, I like animals too. I’m hoping I shall get a job in a country school but I’ve another year at college to do after this one, and then I need to teach for a year to get my parchment, but at least I shall be earning then.’
‘It’s never ending, all the studying, is it?’ he said sympathetically. ‘I’ve a few years of training and studying ahead of me but it’s what I wanted to do so there’s no use grumbling.’ He sighed as the next dance came to an end. ‘I’d better go back to the gang
or Nats will be locking me out of the house tonight judging by the glowering looks she’s throwing my way.’ He gave an impish grin and Megan couldn’t help smiling back at him.
She was surprised when he came to ask her for the last dance of the evening, almost running the last few steps in order to beat Maryanne’s brother, Rufus.
‘Can I give you a lift home?’ he asked.
‘Oh, no thank you. I’m with a friend.’
‘I rather think your friend has other plans for going home tonight,’ he grinned and nodded his head in the direction of Maryanne and her partner.
‘So she has,’ Megan smiled, pleased Maryanne had enjoyed her evening.
‘So you’ll come with us? Natalie is driving her own car so she’ll be taking Nick and she can take one of the girls too. The other two will come with us so you’ll be perfectly safe.’ He gave his disarming smile.
‘I’m sure I shall. Thank you, I shall be glad of a lift.’ She would have walked the two miles back on her own rather than go with Natalie Turner but there was no reason why she shouldn’t accept Lindsay Gray’s offer, although she knew instinctively Natalie would not be pleased. Her mother always said it was because she was an only child so she was not used to sharing anything, but her father insisted it was because Mr Turner had spoiled her. Whatever the reason, Natalie was not an easy person to like.
Natalie lost no time in writing to tell Steven that Megan had spent the evening dancing and flirting with Dr. Lindsay Gray, one of her own house guests.
‘ She enticed him away from our party and she even begged him for a lift home in his car. It was most embarrassing, ’ she wrote.
Steven knew Megan too well to believe she would beg a lift from anyone. She was a very attractive girl and he was certain he was not the only man who would think so. He guessed Natalie had exaggerated but his heart was heavy as he thought of Megan dancing in another man’s arms, and him seeing her home. He had been jolted into awareness when he had first seen her again and held her in his arms. She was a lovely girl with her vivid colouring and sparkling eyes, but even as a child, her warm smile had always drawn people to her. He was even more disappointed when Megan did not reply to his last letter as quickly as she usually did. Obviously, she had other things to occupy her time and he had no right to claim all her attention.
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