by Mary Easson
‘Perhaps we should seek her opinion about that, Richard. Perhaps a visitor is just what she needs.’ Miss Melville rarely took no for an answer. She was already taking off her gloves.
Sarah saw that the minister did not look happy.
‘I really think it best if you return at another time. And let me know when you are coming in future. The doctor has ordered rest.’
He was watching the visitor close-like as she took off her hat – Miss Melville seemed to be taking her time, being careful not to disturb her hair. The minister’s face was turning more and more red, as if he had decided she was deliberately trying to annoy him. Or maybe it was just that he hated vanity in a woman, him being a strict Presbyterian.
Miss Melville wasn’t about to be rushed though. She was tall and confident in her light summer jacket and matching flowing skirt. She looked up to where her friend might be on the floor above and started to climb the stairs. ‘Come on, Sarah,’ she ordered. ‘Go ahead of me and we’ll see if Miss Fraser is receiving guests.’
Sarah sklent at Miss Melville then the minister and wasn’t sure what to do. He looked as if his dog collar might choke him. She feared her employment was about to come to an end but she rushed up the stairs ahead of the visitor anyway.
They listened at the door, her and Miss Melville like a pair of schemers, before giving a knock. There was a rustle of covers and the faintest sound of someone turning over in bed.
‘Come in,’ said the mistress. And Miss Melville went in.
My sister stayed down in the hall waiting for news, staring up, looking worried. That’s how Miss Melville found her when she finally reappeared after what seemed like an age.
She spoke in a whisper. ‘She’ll be fine in a couple of days with some rest, Sarah. You will look after her, won’t you?’
‘Oh, aye, Miss. I will,’ Sarah whispered back.
‘Let me know if you’re worried about her meantime. If she doesn’t want to get out of bed, or doesn’t eat, send me a message and I’ll come.’
‘I will, Miss. I’ll come for ye. I was fair worrit when I saw Mr Maclean cairryin’ her intae the hoose in his airms earlier on. She looked sae.. pale an’.. an’..’ She could hardly say what was on her mind. ‘When he laid her doon gentle-like on her bed, and took her haun in his, strokin’ her hair and speakin’ her name ower an’ ower again... I thoucht.... oh... I thoucht the worst!’
Miss Melville’s ears pricked up at that. ‘Mr Maclean, did you say? Mr Donald Maclean?’
‘I believe it was, Miss. Sic a kind man.’
‘Yes. Kind... mmm. You look after your mistress, Sarah. She needs your help. Send for me if needs be.’ She lowered her voice further. ‘I’ll be back in a few days to see how she is.’
Miss Melville left the gloomy house for the late evening sunshine. According to Sarah, Miss Melville seemed to be deep in thought, miles away, as if a plan was forming in her head.
Elizabeth
When I see the women and girls working in the fields, I thank God for my good fortune that I do not have to undertake such back-breaking work in all weathers. But that does not mean to say that we do not have much in common. I take the opportunity to speak to Mr Gowans who is leaning on a gate, watching them labour, as I pass. I express my admiration for their hard work and remind him that women have kept the farms of Scotland going since time immemorial and point out how well they have turned their hands to those tasks traditionally done by the menfolk who are serving their country in foreign lands. He thinks twice about arguing with me, though I can tell that he would like to, but I reinforce my message by saying that the men might find they have to work harder when they return from the war to match what the woman have done in their absence. Perhaps I have been insensitive but increasingly I find that I must express my point of view without being asked.
I wave to Minn Graham, such a lovely young woman who shows great fortitude. Her smile hides huge sadness and a deep understanding of this world that is the privilege of those who see it through the prism of tears. Her sister has been a great help to me in the house these last few years that I cannot imagine how I would manage without her. Her work is done well and without complaint, and she is the soul of discretion. I am much blessed. I also have several very dear friends whom I am fortunate to know, who give me their love, their friendship, and their support in good times and in bad. Yes, I am much blessed.
When I awoke in my bed, not knowing how I’d got there, having been carried from the funeral tea, it was my good friend, Phee Melville’s voice I heard at the door. I was never so glad to see her.
‘What’s all this, Beth? she asked, sounding worried. She sat on the bed and examined my ashen face. ‘When she came home from the funeral, Catherine said you’d been taken ill.’
‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry,’ I assured her though I must have looked pale against the white sheets and was glad to be lying down. ‘I fainted, that’s all. I’ll be fine by tomorrow if I rest.’
‘Been working too hard, I expect,’ said Phee. ‘Glad to see you’ve taken my advice and brought in some help.’
‘Looks like she’s come just in time,’ I said.
Phee gave me a warm embrace and I had to fight back tears.
‘It’s lovely to see you,’ I told her. ‘Tell me your news, please. How are things? Are Catherine and Isabelle getting along any better these days?’ I loved to hear Phee’s tales of the goings on at Parkgate House. Besides, it took my mind off my own concerns.
Phee rolled her eyes and shook her head. Catherine was her sister-in law, married to David, head of the family and Laird of Rashiepark. At thirty-four, Isabelle was the eldest of three surviving siblings, several years older than her brother, and a formidable presence in the Melville household. She was set in her ways, with fixed views about most things.
‘As you know, when Catherine Imrie married David, Isabelle thought her the perfect match,’ began Phee. ‘Not only would she inherit her father’s considerable business interests, and pots of money to boot, but she seemed so... well, insipid! Isabelle’s domination of household matters and influence over David, didn’t seem threatened at all. But my! How wrong she’s been!’
‘So... fireworks... still?’
‘You bet! My Goodness! They go at it with gusto! Isabelle’s a stickler for tradition as you know. And Catherine seems determined to change everything... no matter what! Putting her mark on the place as if money was no object!’
I grimaced though I had gained a greenhouse thanks to Catherine’s extravagance in the past and was grateful for it. I recalled some of the changes I had witnessed when I had visited Parkgate in recent months. ‘Is the mine at Back o’ Moss managing to pay for it all?’ I ventured.
‘Mmmm, more or less. As you know... Catherine’s father handed over his share of the mine as a wedding gift... once the pit had been sunk and was about to start producing.... making Rashiepark the majority shareholder. And the estate already benefits from income coming from the lease of the land to the mine. To be honest, I don’t think David can be bothered with it. He’d rather Rashiepark reverted to its former glory, paying its way through agriculture, the fishing beats, and shooting parties. He leaves a lot of the day-to-day management of the estate to the factor now.’
‘Does he still go away as much?’ I asked.
‘He’s always off on some jaunt or other... visiting friends... in the country... or Edinburgh – especially Edinburgh – but anywhere, it would seem, except Rashiepark.’
Phee looked out of the window, at the hilly land that rose up beyond the manse garden. Much of what she could see was estate land. Melvilles had owned it for generations. She sighed.
‘He’s off again at the weekend, in fact. Off to one of his army camps. He’s a captain in the reserves as you know. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that really pleases him these days.’ She sighed again, ‘Oh dear, I do miss the
old David.’
I had many more questions but kept them to myself, deciding to change the subject to something less sombre ‘And what about you, Phee? What’s new? I haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘Keep the second weekend in July free. Will you?’ she replied.
I was intrigued. Phee was always full of surprises.
‘You’re invited to a party!’ Phee was hardly unable to contain herself. ‘An engagement party!’
‘Who? When? You? You?!’ My eyes went to Phee’s left hand and I gasped. ‘Gosh! You’re engaged!’ I trilled. ‘What a beautiful ring!’
Phee held out her hand and admired the diamond and sapphire cluster in its 22ct gold setting.
‘When did he propose?’ I asked. ‘Arthur, I mean. When did he finally get round to it?’
‘Oh, it’s not Arthur, Beth dear. I’d be in my grave waiting for Arthur Moffat to make a decision. No, it’s a friend of David’s... from the reserves. He’s a captain too, from a Borders family. Such a wonderful horseman, you wouldn’t believe! We’ve only known each other a matter of weeks.’ She studied her ring again, smiling to herself. ‘I can’t wait for you to meet him. You will come to the party and give your seal of approval, won’t you?’
I wished her every happiness and meant it. Phee Melville had been a good friend to me. She had been someone to confide in, someone who had lifted my spirits when I needed it most in the difficult weeks following Neil Tennant’s departure from the village. Without daring and confident Phee, I wondered how I would have coped.
‘Thanks, Beth. You’ll receive a proper invitation through the post very soon. It’s all happened so quickly. But one knows when the right man comes along. When it’s the right one you just feel it, don’t you think?’
I could see that Phee was happy and I was glad for her but I couldn’t stop the film of tears that filled my eyes to overflowing.
She realised her mistake too late. ‘Oh, Beth. I’m sorry, so sorry! I’m such a selfish, clumsy fool... coming here and crowing about finding love, wrapped up in my own world when you, my dearest friend, is so heartbroken. And you’re lying here recuperating, not feeling at all well. I am sorry.’
Tears ran down my cheeks.
‘You haven’t mentioned Neil in ages. I thought you’d gotten over him at last. Is it still so hard to bear? Still so raw?’
I couldn’t speak for a while. ‘He’s gone, Phee,’ I said at last. ‘Neil’s gone forever. That’s why I fainted and made such a fool of myself earlier. Mrs Tennant told me Neil is in Canada! He must have been there all this time. Whilst I’ve been wishing and praying for his return, he’s been thousands of miles away.’
Phee could not believe what she was hearing. She sat with her mouth open, not knowing what to say. I knew she had prayed for long enough that Neil would return to Blackrigg to be reunited with me. It seemed logical, the only outcome that made any sense, according to her. We seemed so right for each other despite the differences in our backgrounds: me, a daughter of the manse and him a blacksmith, like his father and grandfather before him. If she was honest, Phee had been drawn to him herself. He was strong and handsome, kind and gentle with the most engaging smile. He was bookish and curious about the world, and wise. That was Neil Tennant, who was now in Canada and lost to me forever.
‘I’m speechless, Beth. I really am. I would never have believed Neil could go away like that, without you. I thought he’d come back – was bound to – one day. But...’ Then her whole demeanour changed. She was thinking hard, and finally blurted out what was on her mind.
‘Perhaps we’ve been wrong about Mr Tennant. I know you won’t want to hear this but... perhaps... he isn’t who you... and I... thought he was.’ Phee was finding it difficult to be so blunt. But she clearly felt it had to be said. ‘This has got to stop, Beth. You’ve got to get over this!’
I sank back into the pillows, shaking my head from side to side, distraught. I didn’t want to hear these words from my best friend.
‘Forget about Neil Tennant, Beth. He hasn’t so much as written to you in all this time! He isn’t coming back and you need to start living your life again.’ She could see how difficult it was for me but she persisted. Phee held me by the shoulders and made me look at her whilst she spoke.
‘Stop living in the past and dreaming of what might have been. It’s killing you, for the love of God!’
I nodded. It was destroying me and I knew it.
‘Now listen,’ Phee continued much more softly, ‘I’ll be back in a few days’ time to see if you’re feeling stronger. Rest tonight and try to get up for a bit tomorrow. Go and sit in that beautiful garden of yours and... and rest.’ She walked over to the window and studied the garden laid out below: my garden, a living patchwork of colour, created by my hard work and with much love. ‘You are such a wonderful, warm, talented human being, Elizabeth Fraser,’ she declared then she turned to me, lying helpless and distraught in bed. ‘You deserve better than this!’
I let the sobbing subside, took a deep breath, forced a weak smile. Phee always made me feel better, just by being there, and she was full of common sense too. But at that moment, as I lay staring at the ceiling thinking of Neil on the other side of the world where he couldn’t be reached, I could not imagine being able to return to my old life, my busy life in the manse and in the community. In fact, I could not imagine any sort of life at all.
‘You will get through this, Beth.’ Phee hugged me hard. ‘I’ll be back soon and I expect to see you up and about.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘I will help you through this, I promise.’ She waited until I had acknowledged what was being said. ‘Now rest. See you soon, dearest Beth.’
As she closed the door behind her, I could tell her anger towards Neil was mounting though after the way he had been treated by Richard, who could blame him for staying away? I could see how much she empathised with my situation, could understand how awful it was for me but, also – she must have been thinking – was it really such a surprise after all this time?
Phee was true to her word and arrived for her end-of-the-week visit. I was sitting in the parlour reading a gardening book. I was wearing my blue skirt and a crisp blouse with a lace collar and mother-of pearl buttons down the front. My hair was pinned up in a fashionable style that, I thought, suited my face and accentuated my neck. I’d taken great care over my appearance, that much was obvious to Phee who was glad to see me greatly improved from the distraught and heartbroken, and frankly quite pathetic, waif-like creature she had left several days before.
Sarah entered with a tray – tea and cake for two – but she almost dropped it on the parlour floor when Mrs Tough bellowed from the kitchen. We looked at each other in horror as the poor girl ran from the room at full pelt.
‘How awful!’ said Phee. ‘Can’t something be done about the woman?’
‘Richard’s already had words with her,’ I explained. ‘But she’s a law unto herself. Believe it or not, it was one of the reasons I finally got up out of bed and pulled myself together. I couldn’t stand her shouting and abusing Sarah for no reason.’
‘So, you’re better?’ asked Phee pointedly. Then after a pause, ‘Are you better?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ I replied. ‘I knew I couldn’t go on like that, acting like a silly girl. I feel rather ashamed of myself, to be honest. I couldn’t bear to think of life without Neil but you talked me into seeing sense. I began to realise that, although I’ve thought of him night and day, his perspective will be different. He’s travelling the world and making a new life for himself. He has moved on from Blackrigg. I’ve got to get on with my life too. Mrs Tough can stay a few more days till I’m properly back on my feet then I’ll be back at the helm here in the manse. Then... who knows what’s ahead for me?’
‘That’s wonderful news, Beth! I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I knocked on the door today!’ She seemed mightily relieved
for my sake.
‘I’ve been resting in the garden, as you suggested, and even managed to walk along to the school last night. It was the monthly meeting of the Ladies Committee of the District Nursing Association and I didn’t want to miss it.’
‘Rather you than me,’ she admitted.
‘Like the Mrs Tough situation, it forced me to make a decision: either lie around wallowing and feeling sorry for myself or contribute to something worthwhile, something that makes a difference to people’s lives.’
‘Super. Well done, you.’
‘Besides, I’m the chairwoman of the Committee now, and didn’t want to miss my first meeting in charge,’ I explained. ‘When Miss Silver was in the chair, she caused all sorts of arguments and some of the women threatened to resign. She was altogether too dogmatic, wanting things done her way. She tended to take sides, rather than defusing conflict between people. So that’s my role, to get things back on track, and have everyone working together so that we have a nursing service that all Blackrigg people can rely on.’
‘But isn’t that the role of the men... they make all of the big decisions, don’t they? The Ladies Committee is there to see that the nurse’s house is cleaned and report to the main committee, no?’
‘On the face of it, yes. Eighteen men on the main committee make the big decisions about funding and spending. They make sure the nurse has accommodation and is properly equipped whilst we check the nurse’s book every month and carry out any domestic duties at her accommodation in support of her work. But the Ladies Committee can also advise the men about how the service can be improved. Two women – that’s me and Mrs Birse from the Rows – attend the Executive Committee every month and say our piece.’
‘The nurse must be a great help to the doctor, I suppose. She’ll do a lot of the work he doesn’t have time for.’
‘That’s right. We’ve only had a nurse this past year as you know. The employers, mainly the Coal Company, pay the Nursing Association so that workers and their families can have nursing care at reduced cost. But we still have a lot of people who can’t afford her. Perhaps they don’t work for one of the big employers. Some can’t even afford to send for the doctor never mind the nurse and, if they do, families run up debts. Even those in receipt of poor relief have to pay back – in instalments. It’s often the main point for discussion by the Ladies Committee, and why Miss Silver had to be removed from the chair. She refused to discuss those who couldn’t afford to pay, said that was outwith our remit. According to her, our only concern should be those who can afford nursing services.’