Cat's Cradle (21 page)

Jamie frowned. ‘I think he did. I saw him being sent to stand in the corner a few times.'

‘That doesn't exactly mean he knows his alphabet.'

We looked at each other, aware of the wrinkle in our plan. We'd have to chance it – or at least hope that Rabbie had the sense to ask someone he could trust to read him the letter.

‘I'll go now,' Jamie said, tucking his glasses back into his pocket. I wondered if he was afraid of getting them smashed.

‘Please hurry,' said Bridgit with a worried look at the sky. ‘We can't stay outside tonight. Either Cat's brother offers us shelter or we'll have to find it ourselves. Maybe that barn we saw a mile back?'

‘Aye, I'll be gleg. If I dinna come back in an hour, find yerselves a roof and wait till morning. I'll meet ye at the barn.'

‘Good luck, Jamie.' I gave him an impulsive hug. He looked hopefully in Bridgit's direction.

‘Be careful,' she warned, giving him a sisterly peck on the cheek.

Much emboldened by his own gallantry, Jamie squared his shoulders and set off down the valley. He was soon swallowed up by the shadows under the trees.

‘You've made a conquest,' I said teasingly.

Bridgit shook her head as she slipped her bag off her back and sat down on a rock to wait. ‘Puppy love, Cat. Haven't you ever seen it before?'

I nodded, remembering the devotion I had once felt for my friend Johnny. If that was puppy love, it was nothing to be mocked; the feelings were as acute and real as any I knew.

‘I remember being in love with the priest in our village in Ireland,' Bridgit continued, laughing gently at her memories. ‘Mother Mary, talk about a hopeless affection!'

‘Why?'

‘Our priests don't marry.'

‘Ah yes, of course.'

‘And if it had been otherwise, half the girls in the parish would have been in line to be his wife.
He was a fine-looking man – and kind.'

‘Is that what you want in a husband?' I asked, mentally ticking off these two on the list of Syd's attributes.

‘Don't we all?'

I shrugged. ‘I don't think I'll be getting married.'

‘Maybe you are just too young and no one's caught your eye yet.'

‘Perhaps.' That was what she – and the rest of society – expected me to say, but it wasn't what I felt inside. Every time someone made a comment about me marrying, I felt like the ugly sister trying on Cinderella's shoe, toes crammed to pretend I could be the conventional bride.

‘But surely, Bridgit, there is more to life for us than marriage and babies?' I asked.

Bridgit tucked the ends of her shawl more snugly around her body. ‘Yes, there is: there's poverty,' she counted points off on her fingers, ‘being an outcast, unhappiness. That's the future for a woman on her own.'

I wanted to protest but was held back by the
thought of my mother. Jesse Stirling had found all three when she had me.

‘Would it be too much to ask for adventure, for work that I liked – without the unhappiness and poverty bit?'

I could tell Bridgit was smiling even though it was now too dark to see her face properly. ‘Perhaps not too much for you, Cat.'

We waited in silence. Snow continued to flutter through the tree canopy, settling on our skirts in damp drifts. I could feel it beginning to soak through my shawl.

‘How long do you think he's been gone?' I wondered, my teeth chattering.

‘Almost an hour, I would guess.' Bridgit reached out and took my hand. She was trembling from a mixture of cold and anxiety, her fingers chill.

‘Do you think something's happened to him?'

How could she answer? We didn't know. All we could do was wait in the dark, watching the snow.

An owl hooted down in the valley. At least, I hoped it was an owl.

‘Sh-shall we go to the barn?' I stuttered. My feet felt like blocks of ice.

‘I think we should,' murmured Bridgit.

‘I don't like to leave Jamie. What if he's in trouble? He might need us.'

We stood irresolute for a few more minutes, staring into the night. A light twinkled at the top of the tower, a lighthouse warning of trouble.

‘We should've had a better plan,' I burst out in frustration. ‘I thought he'd come straight back. I'd never have agreed if I really thought he would be in danger.'

A second owl hooted, this time behind us.

‘But what can we do?' whispered Bridgit uneasily. ‘We'll freeze if we stay. At least in daylight we will be able to come back and see if he's all right. And if he gets away he'll expect to find us in the barn, not here.'

‘You're right.' I blew on my fingers. ‘Sorry. I'm just worried.'

‘So am I.'

We picked up our bundles and turned to head up the track to the barn. We had not even taken
three paces when a man jumped out of the trees in front of us, landing on the ground with a heavy thud. Bridgit screamed, hands to her mouth to muffle her cry. I spun round only to find we had company behind us too.

Reivers.

‘Get them!' said the first man with soft-spoken menace.

Silently, the men took our bags and bound our wrists behind our backs. The only sound was Bridgit's soft whimpering. I held my tongue, though in my mind I was swearing a blue streak for having fallen into their trap so easily.

‘Welcome to Bruce land, my bold lasses,' said the leader with a mocking bow. ‘Sadly, ye'll soon wish ye hadna trespassed.'

Guided by rough hands down the track, we stumbled into the clearing by the tower house, shoes sliding in the slush. I frantically tried to free my wrists but only succeeded in rubbing the skin raw. Led up a flight of wooden stairs on the outside of the building, we entered the tower through a low door on the first floor. On my right,
stone steps ran upwards within the thickness of the wall, the top lost in the darkness, but we were shoved straight forward and into the well-lit main chamber. The first thing I saw was Jamie kneeling, hands and feet trussed together in a most uncomfortable position. He looked distraught to see us there.

‘It wasna my fault!' he called, before being pushed over by a kick in the back and warned to hold his tongue.

I couldn't watch my friend be mistreated without protesting.

‘Leave him alone!' I shouted, giving his attacker, a burly old man with a scrawny grey beard, a kick in the shins.

With a swipe of his hand, I found myself on the floor next to Jamie, my cheek on fire. Unable to break my fall, I lay still, momentarily winded.

‘Damn and blast!' I huffed, shuffling on to my side. ‘That hurt.'

Jamie met my eyes. ‘I think our plan's gone agley.'

‘I think it has.' I closed my eyes, waiting for him to say it. ‘Go on.'

‘What?'

‘Say, “I told you so.”'

‘I'll save it until we're safely out of this fix.'

Behind us Bridgit was talking fast, seeing what negotiation could do to improve our situation. I listened carefully, though I could not see her through the forest of legs that surrounded us. She was pleading for our release but receiving scant encouragement. I pulled myself up on to my knees and surveyed our surroundings, hoping to see a way out. The room was large and square-shaped. A fire crackled in a vast stone hearth some feet away. The floor was covered in dirty mats and benches lined the walls. Above, I caught a glimpse of a painted wooden ceiling. Weapons hung in place of portraits. No luxury here, just the belongings of a bunch of fighting men. Little wonder the room smelled of mud, whisky and unwashed bodies.

‘Have you seen my brother?' I whispered to Jamie.

‘Aye. He's by the fire.'

I crouched lower, trying to peek through the
men. My eyes met those of a boy sitting on a stool, an open letter on his lap. Large for his twelve or so years, he bore absolutely no resemblance to me that I could see. Dark hair, brown eyes, mean-looking: he was the sort of boy I would normally cross the road to avoid. Was this truly my brother?

I glanced back at Jamie, a question in my expression. He nodded.

Rabbie got up and pushed his way through to stand before Bridgit; his passage cleared a space so I could now see her. She looked scared but resolute, standing up to the big man who had jumped out at us. He was dressed in tattered plaid and had a long mane of brown hair tied back in a leather thong.

‘Malcolm, ask her where my money is,' Rabbie said, tugging at the leader's sleeve. The big man looked down at him and gave my brother a mirthless smile.

‘There is no money,' Bridgit replied, trying to keep her tone soothing. ‘There never was. That's not why we are here.'

She was ignored.

‘Search the bags,' ordered Malcolm Bruce.

Our things were unceremoniously emptied out on to the floor, our change of clothes picked over by calloused fingers. Bridgit flushed in anger and embarrassment to have her shifts on display; I cursed as they found my dwindling stock of Frank's money. Malcolm threw it to Rabbie.

‘That isna much, but then my aunt wasna a generous woman,' said Rabbie, shoving the purse into his pocket.

I could not help myself: I was taking an instant dislike to my own kin.

‘Hey, that's mine!' I struggled to my feet. ‘Give it back! Of course Mrs Moir didn't leave you money. And why should she? You ran away!'

The room fell silent as my southern tones registered on the audience. A lick of fear crept up my spine.

‘A Sassenach?' sneered Rabbie. He jingled the purse in his pocket. ‘Thank ye for yer donation then.'

‘That is my ticket home,' I replied staunchly. ‘Hand it over.'

‘Nae.'

‘I'll tell you what Mrs Moir left you if you give it to me.'

‘As if I care.' He turned his back.

I saw red. ‘Damn you, Rabbie Bruce – you're my brother! You shouldn't steal from me!'

Believe me, Reader, that wasn't how I intended to make myself known but my anger had run away with my good sense.

‘Cat!' squeaked Bridgit.

Rabbie shoved past everyone to confront me, raising a fist between us. ‘Brother! Ye are naething but a dirty liar!'

‘Jesse Stirling was my mother, same as yours.' I flinched, half expecting him to strike, but he let his hand fall. It was unnerving to find my younger brother had quite a few inches on me. That didn't seem very fair.

‘Do we have to listen to these lies?' Rabbie asked his cousin.

‘Nae, lad. We'll put her downstairs.' Malcolm waved to one of his men and I found myself picked up round the waist and hauled out before I
could protest. Bounced down a flight of steps, I was dumped in the cellar, wrists untied and the door locked on me.

In the pitch darkness I kicked the wall, only to find my foot connect with a sack of potatoes. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I berated myself. If I had set out to muck up my reunion with my brother, I could not have done a better job. Caught unawares, blurting out the truth in front of a room full of hostile witnesses – I had failed miserably. And now I was far down the path to hating my own brother – and after only a few minutes of acquaintance. Unfortunately, I suspected that the feeling was mutual.

Some time later I heard a scratching at the door.

‘Cat?'

It was Bridgit. I knelt on the cold flagstones, pressing my face to the crack between door and frame. It was so dark I couldn't see it, only feel the draught flowing through against my cheek.

‘Yes?' I whispered.

‘I haven't got long. I told them I was going to the privy. Jamie is trying to talk your brother round.'

‘Don't call him that.'

‘What? Your brother?'

‘Yes. He's nothing to me. He doesn't know me. Doesn't want to listen.'

I could hear Bridgit huff in frustration. ‘So quick to give up on him? You hardly broke the news in the best fashion.'

I groaned and thumped my head on the door. ‘I know. I'm a prize ass. But still, he doesn't seem
to have much use for a sister – not with all those cousins.'

‘Give him a chance.'

‘Why?'

‘Because you once told me that it was better to have problem brothers than no one on your side.'

‘I said that, did I?'

‘Mm-hmm.'

‘Then I was wrong. Give me bread and butter and I'll spread my words on top and eat them.'

‘No, you will not – and you know it. You are just angry at the moment. We've come all this way – don't waste the opportunity.'

I shivered. ‘How are they treating you?'

‘All right so far. They aren't really interested in Jamie. They just want to know about the valuable thing we claimed we were carrying.'

Another groan. ‘Perhaps that letter wasn't such a good idea.'

‘As we feared, your brother can't read. If he could, he might have kept it to himself, but instead he showed it to Malcolm Bruce. All the Bruce boys now think we're hiding something, especially since
you as good as told them it wasn't the money you had in your purse.'