‘Stand up and take a bow, Runcie,’ came a yell. ‘We ken it was you.’
To everyone’s delight, a small, middle-aged man rose to his feet and looked across at Lizann. ‘I hope it didna offend you?’
‘No, no,’ she assured him. ‘We’ll treasure it … all of them.’
John sat down to a sustained round of applause, and for the next ten minutes there was great activity as the men helped to dismantle and move all the tables to make way for the dancing. The floor cleared, the three-piece band supplied by the hotel came in and struck up a swingy quickstep. Every male, it seemed, wanted to dance with the bride, and Lizann thoroughly enjoyed her popularity for the next couple of hours. At last, however, she knew it was time for more serious matters, and taking her life in her hands, she mingled amongst the friends she had made and was now on the brink of leaving, to bid them goodbye. Knowing that she would break down when she came to Gladys Wright, she left her until last, and they stood in a corner amid all the uproar clasping hands tearfully. ‘You’ll write?’ Gladys asked.
‘Yes, and you too? I want to get all the news.’
Both were aware that they would have less and less in common as time went past – Lizann would have only the farm to write about; Gladys would give up work when her husband was released from the prison camp – but they meant what they said at that moment.
Most of the men, and some of the women, were what was euphemistically termed ‘merry’ by this time, a few even more than that. The cackles of laughter had become screeches, the jokes bordered on the obscene, and Lizann was quite relieved when some of them began to make a move towards the door. Before leaving, everyone shook hands with the bride and groom, said how much they had enjoyed the ‘do’ and wished them health and happiness. Mrs Melville had only time to give her lodger a tearful hug before she was swept away by the woman with whom she was to share a taxi home, but it was perhaps a good thing, Lizann thought. She couldn’t have coped with a long-drawn-out parting from her just then. She would write to her in a day or two.
At last only the bride and groom and their matron-of-honour and best man were left. John leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve attended quite a few weddings in my time, but I’ve never enjoyed one so much before, not even my own.’
‘The same goes for me,’ his wife smiled, ‘but don’t settle yourself down. These two have a long journey ahead of them.’
Lizann stood up. ‘Yes, we’d better be going, or it’ll be all hours of the night before we …’
She came to a halt when Dan pulled her back into her seat. ‘We’re not going anywhere tonight, my sweet. I booked a room here. It isn’t much of a honeymoon, but I thought …’
‘Oh, Dan,’ she said, her eyes brimming, ‘you’re an absolute darling.’
‘I do my best,’ he beamed.
‘In that case …’ John began, leaning back, but Ella fixed his lapel. ‘In that case, nothing! Dan and his wife want to be alone.’
‘Oh, of course. Sorry!’ He rose rather unsteadily. ‘I hope you have a good journey home, Mr and Mrs Fordyce …’
‘Come on!’ Ella urged, adding to Lizann, ‘He’ll be like a bear with a sore head in the morning.’
‘He’s all right,’ Dan told her. ‘He didn’t have a lot to drink.’
‘Enough. Cheerio, Lizann.’
‘Thanks for all you did … both of you.’
‘I thought they’d never go,’ Dan sighed when they went out.
Lizann looked apologetically at her groom. ‘You’ll have to get my case out of the car before we go to our room.’
‘I did all that earlier,’ he smiled.
When they went upstairs he turned to her with a peculiar expression. ‘I hope you don’t expect too much of me, my sweet. I’ve never been with a woman before, and I’d hate to think you were comparing me with …’ He broke off, his face suffusing with colour.
‘With George, you mean?’ She laughed at that. ‘He was so drunk on our wedding night, he fell asleep with all his clothes on.’
‘But he must have … you had other nights …’
‘Stop worrying, Dan my darling. I’ll never forget George altogether, but I’d never dream of comparing the two of you. You’re my husband now, and I’ll love you whatever you do … or don’t do.’
She was not disappointed in him.
Chapter Thirty-five
Over breakfast, Lizann said, ‘Booking a room here was a lovely surprise, Dan. It’s made me love you more than ever.’
He beamed with pleasure. ‘I’m pleased to hear it, and I’ve got another surprise up my sleeve … no, two surprises, but I’m not going to tell you anything. I don’t want to spoil them.’
‘Just a wee hint?’ she coaxed.
‘No, my sweet, you’ll have to wait and see.’
‘Oh, Dan,’ she sighed, then smiled. ‘Whatever they are, they can’t be as good as this.’
His eyes twinkling, he wagged his finger at her. ‘Don’t be too sure.’
She wondered if he was going to give her a piece of jewellery when they were in the car, but when they went outside he settled her into the passenger seat and drove off. ‘Thank goodness the weather’s kept up,’ he observed.
Although bursting with curiosity, she asked no further questions and relaxed to enjoy the scenery. It didn’t cross her mind to wonder why he kept to the coast road when he could cut off the north-east corner of Aberdeenshire – the scenery was probably more interesting – but she began to feel uneasy when they passed the road which would have taken them to Easter Duncairn. Nevertheless, she waited until they had left Banff behind before venturing, ‘I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going, Dan.’
His smile irritated her, and her unease turned to alarm when they went through Cullen. ‘Dan! If this is your idea of a surprise, I can tell you right now, I don’t want to go to Buckie!’
He let his hand rest on her knee for a second. ‘Lizann, you must face up to your past before we can have a decent future.’
‘No, Dan! Please don’t make me go!
‘I know it’ll be difficult for you, at least to begin with, but you’ll end up thanking me.’
‘I won’t! Oh Dan, please!’
‘If you don’t go, you’ll always have it at the back of your mind that you turned your back on your family. They’ll probably be so glad to see you they’ll forgive you anything.’ Her growing agitation, however, made him slow down and stop. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, my dearest. If you think it’ll be too much for you, we’ll go home instead.’
After a short, meditative silence, she murmured, ‘I suppose you’re right, Dan, but if things get out of hand, promise you’ll take me away.’
‘I promise, and I’ll be at your side all the time.’
Her stomach churned as they drove through Portessie, and she was barely able to direct him to the Yardie, she was so filled with dread. ‘Here,’ she told him at last. ‘Stop here.’
He came round and opened the car door for her, and she clung to his hand as they walked to the house where she had been born. ‘You knock,’ she whispered, sure that she wouldn’t have the courage to walk through the door when it was opened … if they were asked in.
Lifting the brass knocker, he gave two loud raps which were answered too quickly for Lizann, but when she saw the young woman who was looking questioningly at Dan, she burst out, ‘Jenny!’
Jenny’s face paled, but there was no hesitation as she took a step forward and flung her arms round her sister-in-law. ‘Oh, Lizann! Is it really you?’
Watching them weeping together, Dan found himself striving to keep back his own tears, but Lizann held out her hand and pulled him to her. ‘This is Dan Fordyce,’ she said, proudly. ‘We were married yesterday.’
Emotionally, Jenny flung her arms round Dan now, then said, still with a catch in her voice, ‘Come into the house, for goodness’ sake.’
When Lizann noticed the man sitting in the shadows in his shirtsleeves and slippers with hi
s back to the light, she assumed, quite naturally, that it was Mick and started forward eagerly, but when he turned his head she drew up abruptly. ‘Peter!’ she gasped, blanching.
Jenny held Dan from going forward as Peter stood up, his face ashen. ‘Lizann!’ he croaked, holding out his hand and then changing his mind and embracing her with a fervour which she hoped wouldn’t end in a kiss. To prevent it she said, ‘Peter, I’d like you to meet my husband.’
As the two men shook hands, Jenny said, ‘They were married yesterday.’
Grinning, Peter put his arm round his wife. ‘So we beat them to it.’
Lizann was puzzled. ‘Beat us to it? What d’you mean?’
‘Jenny and I were married months ago.’
‘But … what about Mick?’ she exclaimed in bewilderment. ‘Did you not marry him, Jenny?’
Peter’s face sobered. ‘Yes, she married him, but he was lost two years ago.’
Dan gripped Lizann’s elbow, but she went on a trifle unsteadily, ‘And Elsie?’
‘You’d better sit down,’ Jenny murmured, ‘and I’ll make a pot of tea. We’ve an awful lot to speak about.’
Aware that hearing about her brother’s death had distressed his bride, Dan sat on the arm of her chair while Jenny filled the teapot, and not a word was said until Lizann remembered something that had been knocked completely out of her head by what she had learned so far. ‘My mother? How’s my mother?’
Jenny looked at her in dismay. ‘I forgot you didn’t know about that, either. I’m sorry, Lizann, your mother died … over three years ago.’
There was a brief pause. ‘Was it because … I went away?’
‘No, no! We never told her that. We said you couldn’t get over losing George and the baby …’ Jenny halted, not knowing if Dan had been told about either of these tragedies.
As she handed round the cups, Peter said, ‘I often wondered how you were, Lizann, but you were looking well when you came in.’
‘I couldn’t have been better.’ She gave Dan a watery smile.
They had not even touched on the mammoth task of filling in the five-year-gap when the door was flung open and five children rushed in. Jenny smiled fondly. ‘Here’s our scallywags home from Sunday School. Pattie, Tommy, Norma …’ she paused and added somewhat apprehensively, ‘and Georgie and little Lizann.’
The first three were obviously Peter’s, with the same blondness and bright hazel eyes, but the small boy and girl bringing up the rear had Mick’s dark eyes and Jenny’s colouring. ‘It was nice of you calling them that,’ Lizann said, a little huskily. Then, afraid that Dan might not be so pleased, she cast a wary eye on him, but he was nodding in agreement.
‘It was a lovely idea,’ he smiled.
‘We’ll have two sittings for dinner,’ Jenny observed, ‘seeing there’s nine of us. Adults first.’
Lizann got quickly to her feet. ‘No, no, we’re not staying.’
‘Of course you’re staying. Sit down, you can’t leave without something to eat – as long as you’re prepared to muck in.’
Lizann glanced at Dan, who grinned. ‘Thanks, Jenny, we’ll be happy to muck in.’
After the meal, at Dan’s suggestion, he and Peter took the children for a walk to leave the women to talk freely. Going over past events and what had led up to them was a painful process for both Jenny and Lizann, but each tried to play down the agonies they had suffered. To save Jenny’s feelings, Lizann laid the blame for her sudden flight squarely on Elsie’s visit, and made light of her spell as a fishwife, and when it was Jenny’s turn, she played down Hannah’s mental deterioration and the hell her own life had been while she nursed the old woman. She also said that Elsie had been killed in a road accident without mentioning how and where, and kept the dying confession to herself – that was something she would never divulge again. Only then did Lou’s death come up, and Jockie Flett’s – he had died five months earlier from cirrhosis of the liver.
More or less up-to-date with all each other’s news now, Lizann said, ‘I’m glad you and Peter got together, Jenny.’
‘So’m I … he lost a leg, you know … when the ship he and Mick were on was torpedoed.’
‘Oh, no! Poor Peter. I thought he was crippling just now, but I never dreamt he’d …’
‘He was in a bit of a state when he came back first, that’s why I took him in and told him to rent out his house. His bairns were with Elsie’s mother and father and they didn’t want to … I think his artificial leg scared them.’
‘I can’t feel sorry about Elsie,’ Lizann said shamefacedly.
Because she felt it was too dangerous to dwell on Elsie, Jenny changed the subject. ‘Will you and Dan be living at his farm?’
‘Yes. I thought that’s where we were going this morning and when I realized he was making for Buckie, I was angry … well, not angry, more scared, for I thought Mother wouldn’t want to see me. I should have come home before, Jenny. It shouldn’t have been left to you to nurse her. Did she ever speak about me?’
‘All the time,’ Jenny said to make her sister-in-law feel better, and purposely not referring to Hannah’s confusion.
‘I wish I could have seen her and Mick again.’
She sat pensively for some moments, then Jenny said quietly, ‘I’ll never forget Mick, Lizann. I told Peter that when he asked me to marry him, and he said he didn’t expect me to. But I’m his wife now, and I do love him, and I’m going to do my best to make him happy.’
‘Peter’s a good man, I always thought a lot of him. You know, Jenny, we’re really lucky, you and me. I had George and now I’ve got Dan, and you had Mick and now you’ve got Peter – all fine men.’
This went some way towards dispelling the doubt which had arisen in Jenny’s mind when Peter took Lizann in his arms, but a little niggle persisted – the love had been mostly on his side before.
It was after four when the others came back. ‘I think we should be making tracks, Lizann,’ Dan told his wife. ‘I’ve to start work early tomorrow, and I’ve some things to … do first.’
‘You’ll come to see us at Easter Duncairn?’ Lizann begged Peter.
‘It’s a bit difficult without transport,’ he pointed out, ‘but who knows, I might be able to afford a secondhand car after the war, though it’s a bus we’d need for all this gang.’
Outside, Jenny said, ‘You two’ll come back here, though?’
‘I’m afraid this is only a hired car,’ Dan said, as he opened the passenger door, ‘but I do have an old lorry, if my wife doesn’t object to coming in that.’
‘I’d come on a bike, if that’s all we had,’ she laughed.
Arms round each other’s waists, Peter and Jenny stood until the car disappeared round the bend. ‘Did you tell her Robbie wanted to know if she still had that picture?’ he asked, when they turned to go inside.
Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, I forgot, but she said she’d to sell all her things when she left Buckie. I can’t get over me forgetting to tell her about Robbie, though. Still, it’ll be something to speak about next time they come. You know, I nearly dropped dead on the spot when I saw her.’ Jenny hesitated, then added, ‘How did you feel?’
‘I was pleased …’ His voice strengthened suddenly. ‘Of course I was pleased to see her, damned pleased, and she’d hardly changed a bit.’ He looked at Jenny, his eyes entreating her to believe him. ‘But it was just like an old, very dear friend had turned up again. That’s all.’
Jenny was satisfied now. She had needed to hear him say it.
Sitting beside her husband-of-a-day, Lizann sighed blissfully. ‘Oh, I’m glad you made me come, Dan.’
‘I was sure it would be all right,’ he smiled, ‘and I must say Jenny and Peter make a lovely couple.’
‘But it’s sad to think it’s because Mick’s dead they’ve …’
‘Look at it this way, my sweet. They both lost their partners in very tragic circumstances …’
‘I don’t think Elsie’s dea
th would have bothered Peter,’ Lizann said, a little sharply.
‘Perhaps it wouldn’t have affected him as much as Jenny was affected by losing Mick, but he must have felt something for his wife.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d known her.’ Lizann paused, then said, repentantly, ‘I shouldn’t say things like that when she’s dead. You must think I’m callous and hard-hearted.’
‘I know you’re not, and you’re perfectly right, I shouldn’t criticize you when I knew nothing about the woman.’
‘I really am pleased they’ve got together, though. Peter deserves some happiness. I was engaged to him at one time, you know, and I broke it off because of George …’
Dan turned to smile at her. ‘I had the feeling that you had been more than just friends.’
‘Don’t be jealous. I never really loved him, not enough anyway, but he was a very good friend to me when George was drowned, and so was Jenny.’
‘I’m not jealous, my dearest. In fact, I’m happy that you have what is more or less a family again. I felt guilty at having a sister while you had nobody. Unfortunately, my hope of reuniting you with your mother and brother proved impossible, but even if Jenny is not a blood relative you do have a niece and nephew who are.’
Lizann brightened now. ‘Yes, George and Lizann. You weren’t put out by their names, were you?’
‘Not in the least. It showed me how thoughtful Jenny was … and Mick.’
‘Dan, would you like us to have children?’
‘Only if you want them.’
‘I’d like two, close together, so they’ll be company for each other.’
Approaching Easter Duncairn, Lizann gave a little chuckle. ‘The second surprise turned out well, after all, so what about the last one? When do I get it?’
‘Any time now.’
They entered the farmhouse by the kitchen, and when she saw that most of the old items had been replaced and that a refrigerator had been installed, she turned and gave her husband a bear hug. ‘Oh, Dan, this is another lovely surprise.’
She broke away to inspect everything and didn’t notice the contained excitement on his face. When at last she went back to him, he said, ‘I had the whole house done up. Come and see the rest.’
The Girl with the Creel Page 48