When Wee Lily and her daughter walked through the gate it seemed as if everybody in the district was there, dressed in their best, greeting friends and family. Wee Lily was wearing her only cotton gown, which was patterned all over with sprigs of flowers and cut low at the neck showing the rarely exposed, creamy-white skin on her upper arms and breasts. Kitty had inherited her mother’s skin because, unusually in a redhead, her complexion was a matt ecru colour, smooth and unmarked.
Both of their heads were bare because it was a hot day. Wee Lily wore her thick dark hair plaited in a knot at the nape of her neck and from a distance she looked handsome and imposing.
‘This is my bairn Kitty,’ she said to people she met, pulling the girl forward. Surprised to see her out without her mother, some of them asked, ‘Where’s Big Lily?’
‘She’s gone to Edinbury to see Craigie,’ she said blithely and did not notice their surprise. Proudly Kitty grasped her mother’s work-roughened hand as they walked to and fro, gazing at the sheep and the fairground hucksters who always turned up to coax money out of the pockets of rustics at local fairs.
They were walking along when Jake came stumbling out of a crowd of men standing at the door of the ale tent and grabbed for Wee Lily. His face was red, his hair tousled and he was obviously drunk.
‘Lily, ah, Lily, walk round wi’ me,’ he babbled, gripping her arm. She literally jumped away from him, her face transformed from innocent pleasure to sheer dread. ‘Dinna touch me, dinna touch me,’ she hissed.
‘Come on, Lily, get rid o’ the bairn and you and I’ll go roond thegither,’ he pleaded, but she put an arm round Kitty and gathered her in.
‘The bairn’s staying wi’ me,’ she told him.
Jake would still not take no for an answer, however. Conscious of laughing men behind him he had to save his face. ‘I’ll buy you a beer,’ he whispered, leaning closer to her. ‘Then you and me can go and lie down up there on the hillside for a wee while…’
Kitty could feel her mother’s arm shaking as she held on to her. ‘I’m no’ goin’ to lie down wi’ anybody,’ whimpered Wee Lily like a frightened child.
Jake laughed. ‘It’s no’ as if you’ve not done it before, is it? You’ve the bairn to show you know what’s what. Come on up the hill wi’ me. I’ll marry you if you fall wi’ another yin. It’s more than that bairn’s father did.’
‘No, no,’ sobbed Wee Lily, stepping back even farther to escape his grasping hand.
This was too much for Kitty. Wriggling out from under her mother’s arm, she advanced on Jake and threatened him. ‘Go away. You heard what she said. Leave my mam alone.’
He gazed down at her in astonishment. ‘What’s it to you? I’ll gie you a saxpence and you can go and ride the swingboat.’
‘I don’t want your money. Leave my mam alone! If you don’t, I’ll tell Big Lily on you.’
That did the trick. Jake was terrified of Big Lily and knew how she’d react to the news that he’d been propositioning her daughter.
‘You’re all dafties anyway,’ he sneered backing away. ‘Dafties and bastards from way back. There’s not a marriage line among you.’
Kitty didn’t care about his insults. She grabbed hold of her mother’s hand and pulled her away from the guffawing crowd.
‘Come on, Mam, come on,’ she said and together they ran to the other side of the field where Wee Lily spent her money on two mugs of dandelion beer from an old woman who had set up a trestle near the gate.
‘Jake’s aye bothering me,’ she said as they sat side by side on a grassy bank to have their drinks. ‘He’s aye saying dirty things to me, but I don’t want to go with him. I don’t want to go with anybody. I’m feared of men after what happened that time with the navvy… Dinna ever go wi’ a man, Kitty. It’s terrible, terrible. It hurts such a lot.’ She seemed to have forgotten that she was talking to a child and her daughter sat silent, staring at her.
‘He smelt like a big boar when he grabbed me by the throat. He said if I didn’t lie still he’d kill me. When he’d done it he kicked me in the side. I still get a pain where he kicked me. My ma and Tibbie said he’d broken my ribs.’
‘How old were you?’ whispered Kitty.
‘I dinna mind. About fifteen I think. No’ much older than you are now.’
‘Did you know him?’ was Kitty’s next question.
Wee Lily looked shocked. ‘Of course not. I’d never been wi’ a man and I’ve never been wi’ one since.’
Kitty patted the hand that lay on the grass by her side and said, ‘Dinna think about it, Mam, forget it.’
Wee Lily wiped her hot face with the back of her hand and said, ‘You stay away from men, Kitty. They’re a’ beasts.’ Then she brightened, for distress never lasted long with her. ‘Isn’t it a braw day? Look down there at all the folk. Let’s walk round the fair again.’
‘Just once more,’ Kitty told her. ‘Then we’ll have to get home because there’s work to be done.’ She knew that left to herself her mother would certainly forget her responsibilities back at the farm and Jake would probably not show up either because he was already reeling. In fact, it would be best if he didn’t and she was determined not to leave Wee Lily in case he did. She knew what had to be done and she’d see to it that it was, not that she wanted to please Big Lily but she wished to avoid trouble falling on her mother’s head.
* * *
All during the long and tiring journey back to Rosewell, Big Lily sat on the wooden seat of the third-class railway carriage and stared bleakly ahead like someone contemplating doom. Even though the sun had set, she still felt hot and marks of sweat stained her white blouse. The frivolous bonnet had been taken off and lay bent and disregarded on the seat beside her. Every now and then, she wiped her ruddy face with the edge of her green shawl, impervious to the disapproving looks of her fellow travellers.
Her head was full with a running thread of private thoughts, like a conversation with an unseen listener… There’s Craigie shut up in that prison, away from the place he loves so dearly. I love him. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, though there were others after me when I was a lassie, but I only ever wanted Craigie. He was strange then too… even when he was fucking me he didn’t say much. I don’t know if men do because I’ve only ever been with Craigie and he wasnae one for fancy speaking, but I knew that I mattered to him.
He aye came back to me, didn’t he? When Tibbie Mather’s man died I was worried because I thought Craigie wanted to get his feet under her table but that passed. We’d have gone on like we were for years if it hadn’t been for that navvy grabbing hold of Wee Lily…
Big Lily’s face darkened. If that navvy hadn’t taken it into his head to attack Wee Lily in the corn store, none of this would ever have happened. Craigie wouldn’t have shot him; he wouldn’t have been hauled up before the baillies and sent to the jail; he wouldn’t be sitting up there in that prison now, shut away from me. Oh God I wasn’t even able to put out a hand and touch him!
Big Lily did not imagine that anything would have changed radically if the murder had never happened. Craigie wouldn’t have learned to treat her with kindness or respect. He’d never work her less hard or pay her more money, but all she wanted was for him to be there, to see him every morning, to speak to him, to feel him grunting and groaning on top of her whenever the mood took him.
Because of that Kitty, she thought angrily, I see him once in a twelve year, through the iron grille of a prison wall. He shot the navvy for interfering with his lassie. If that bairn had never been born this wouldn’t have happened.
She knew that Craigie’s anger at the navvy was made up of many more things than paternal affection. He was guarding his property, fighting off the intrustion onto his land, revenging what he saw as an insult and a disruption of their centuries-old way of life by the hated railway. He was trying to hold back progress. But long ago she had convinced herself it was the child’s fault that Craigie was taken away.
Kitty’s
vibrant hair was a constant reminder of the man who’d fathered her, the man who’d started all of the sorrow, the man who was shot by Craigie, her brother, her lover and Wee Lily’s father.
It did not strike her that she was being unfair to Kitty, for she needed a scapegoat, a focus for her grief and rage. The very thought of the child made a tide of rage rise in her.
I’m fifty years old, she thought. I’ll soon be too old to work and what’s going to happen to us then? My lassie’s simple. She cannae work on her own. Craigie’s sisters wouldn’t keep her if anything happened to me. They’ve aye known about me and Craigie; they ken find Wee Lily’s his bairn and it’s made them wild wi’jealousy. They’d send Wee Lily packing and the only place she can go is the Poors’ House. Even if Craigie knew what was happening, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Or would he even try? You never know with Craigie. Till he shot the navvy, he’d never shown much interest in Wee Lily or acknowledged her as his child.
Big Lily knew there was only one way to safeguard her future and that of her daughter. She would have to make use of the bastard bairn and introduce her into the farm so that she could take over her grandmother’s place when she was no longer able to work. Kitty would come in useful at last.
Darkness had fallen by the time she alighted from the train at Rosewell and exhaustion almost overwhelmed her as she walked the dark path towards the lights of Camptounfoot which glittered in the blackness ahead of her.
Though she was dog-tired she would not go to bed till she had checked the sheds and byre, where she found everything to her satisfaction. There was nothing to criticise, no matter how hard she looked. She knew very well that she owed this organisation to her granddaughter but felt no gratitude.
At last she pulled on the twist of rope that formed the latch of the bothy door and stepped into its smoky-smelling dimness. Her daughter had left a loaf of bread on the table beside a white pottery jug full of milk. She lifted the jug and drank straight from it without using a cup. Then she looked at the loaf and thought she’d have a slice.
Her hand went automatically to where the pocket in her working skirt should have been. Then she remembered that she wasn’t wearing it. She looked around and spotted the old skirt lying folded up on the bed by Wee Lily’s feet. She walked across to lift it and search the pockets but to her surprise the knife was not there. Her brow furrowed and she tried to remember where she’d left it but she was too tired to make a proper search.
Tearing off a chunk of bread from the loaf and dipping it in the milk, she satisfied her hunger. Then, without taking off her clothes, she crawled under the heap of covers on the bed and fell fast asleep.
Next morning she was first up and dressed in her working clothes before dawn broke. The noise she made searching the bothy for her knife woke the other two and Wee Lily sat up rubbing her eyes as she asked, ‘What are you doing, Ma?’
‘I’m lookin’ for my knife. I’ve lost it,’ was the gruff reply.
Kitty, hearing this, lay stiff with fear beneath her blanket and pretended to be asleep, but her mother got up and helped Big Lily rummage about among the tumbled bedcovers.
‘I had it before I went to Edinbury. I remember using it…’ the older woman was muttering.
‘Maybe you left it in the byre or the dairy,’ was Wee Lily’s suggestion.
Her mother shot a look at her. ‘Jake didnae take it, did he? He’s aye liked that knife.’
Because of her encounter with Jake at the fair, Wee Lily looked sheepish but managed to shake her head. Seeing her confusion, her mother became even more suspicious. ‘You’ve seen him with it, haven’t you?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ protested Wee Lily, but the seed of suspicion had been planted. Kitty, silent in bed, was grateful that the questioning had not been switched to her.
Later she heard Big Lily screaming at Jake in the cattle court, ‘You’ve taken my knife, haven’t you? It was my mother’s and it’s a grand wee knife. Gie it back, you thief you, or I’ll clip your ear…’
Jake’s protestations of innocence were ignored and Kitty lurked behind a gable wall to listen to what went on. ‘If you don’t gie it back, I’ll send you packing oot o’ here,’ was Big Lily’s next threat.
‘Aw, mistress, I havenae taken your knife… honest. Dinna send me awa’,’ pleaded the distraught man.
‘If that knife’s not back here by tonight you’ll be oot o’ a job at term time,’ threatened Big Lily.
Kitty walked to school with a solemn face wondering if she should give back the knife. Could she let Jake suffer for something she had done? All morning she pondered the problem, and at midday ran to her hiding-place to dig up the tin.
The knife lay enticingly in her hand, its worn, cream-coloured handle shining. She turned it over lovingly. The fact that it had belonged to her great grandmother made it even more precious. It was an heirloom in a family that had very little to pass on.
She decided to keep it a little longer and wait to see what happened with Jake. Putting the knife back in the tin, she buried her treasure again.
That night there was a thunderous atmosphere pervading the farm when she arrived home from school. Jake was acting like a beaten child and Big Lily shouted and stormed about the least little thing going wrong. Even the dogs slunk away with their tails between their legs if anyone as much as looked at them.
Wee Lily alone was impervious, going about her tasks with customary good humour, smiling lovingly at her child when her mother wasn’t looking.
They were eating their supper when Big Lily suddenly glared at Kitty and announced, ‘Tell your schoolmaster that you’ll no’ be back at the school after the end of the term. I’m taking you in here. Craigie said it was all right.’
Surprisingly it was Wee Lily who demurred, ‘Are they going to pay her a wage, Ma?’ she asked.
‘Maybe, if she works well…’ said Big Lily evasively. She knew it was hard enough getting money out of Craigie’s sisters for Wee Lily and they were certainly not going to be keen to part with more cash for Kitty. What she was doing by getting her granddaughter onto the farm was literally buying herself security in her old age. ‘We’ll be feeding her off the land and she’ll have this roof over her head. That’s better than money at her age.’
‘She hasnae any working claes,’ protested Wee Lily next.
‘I’ll buy her some and she can pay me back when she’s earning,’ said Big Lily. Then she looked hard at Kitty and ordered, ‘Mind and tell the teacher you’re leaving. Jake’s going away at the next hiring.’
Though neither Wee Lily nor Kitty had any affection for Jake, who was coarse and unlovable, he was part of their lives, almost one of their family and Kitty’s remorse made her speak up for him. ‘He’ll no’ get another place easily,’ she said.
Big Lily shrugged. ‘That’s his lookout. He took my knife and he’s no’ brought it back.’
Kitty felt her legs trembling. Now was the time that she would have to own up if she was going to, but Big Lily was attacking her food like an animal, her brows lowered and shoulders hunched. The girl knew that her first reaction would be violence if she found out the truth. Fear kept Kitty’s mouth shut.
Next day she hung guiltily about the farm so that she could eavesdrop and overhear her grandmother giving Jake his marching orders.
‘Right, that’s it. You’ve no’ brought back my knife and so you’re off at the spring term. You’ll have to go to Maddiston hiring fair and find yourself another place,’ she said brutally.
Jake’s voice was trembling. ‘Aw, missus, dinna send me awa’, dinna. I’ll do anything you want. You can have a shillin’ a week oot of my money… I’ll work harder, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll marry Wee Lily for you,’ he pleaded.
There was a silence after he said this and Kitty, peeping through the door, saw that her grandmother had stopped sweeping out the byre floor and was leaning on her brush thinking about his suggestion. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked cautiously.
‘I mean I’ll marry her in spite o’ the bairn. Naebody else will, will they? Then you’ll have a man in the house to do the heavy work when you get older.’
Inadvertently he’d hit on the fear that had been oppressing Big Lily’s mind and she looked at him more carefully, as if considering that there was more to him than she’d suspected. But then she remembered the knife and hardened again. ‘Well, maybe, but what about my knife?’
Jake thought he’d scored a point with her and decided to brazen it out. Drawing himself up he said roughly, ‘I havenae got your bloody knife, woman. I’ve got a knife o’ my ain. What would I want wi’ an old thing like that?’
‘That’s it,’ snapped Big Lily. ‘You’re off. I’ll bring in the bairn to train up in your place. She’s a cheeky little bitch but she’s smarter than you by a long way.’
Kitty was still listening at the door when Jake came storming out shouting threats. He bumped into her, almost knocking her off her feet, and raised his hand, bringing it down on her head with a tremendous thump. ‘Get oot o’ my way, you wee bastard ye!’ he yelled. She shook her head to still the ringing in her ears. To spite him she’d keep her mouth shut and keep the knife as well.
* * *
‘I’m going to work soon, so we’ll not see each other so much. I’ll no’ be able to meet you after school,’ Kitty told Marie when they met next day.
‘I’m sorry. Everything’s changing, isn’t it?’ said Marie.
‘What’ll you do?’ asked Kitty.
‘I’ll go on drawing and painting I expect. I like living with Tibbie and David’s quite happy that I’m here because he’s not able to have his own place yet. He’s paying Tibbie for my keep though she doesn’t want to take the money. She’s told me she’s putting it all in the savings bank and I’ll get it as my dowry when I marry,’ Marie told her friend.
She still spent many hours listening to her brother on the subject of their obligations to each other and was not at all sure that she would ever be allowed to contemplate marriage.
Wild Heritage Page 11