Fields of Blue Flax (27 page)

Charlotte nodded. ‘Now, please go to the drawer of the little bedside table and look in there. You will find a pouch.’

Cookie opened the drawer. There were some papers on top; one was a programme of Chopin’s Edinburgh soirée in 1848. Tucked at the back was a little black pouch. She took it over to Charlotte.

‘This pouch has the key inside. You must give both to
Elizabeth. But,’ said Charlotte, trying to push herself up a little but collapsing back on the bed, ‘only when he is dead. That is important.’

Cookie nodded. She helped Charlotte sit up, propping a pillow at her back. ‘But Miss Charlotte, I am already fifty years old. He is, what, sixty-five? He may outlive me.’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘I doubt it. Thank you for doing this. It is important the child understands everything that has happened.’

There was a noise downstairs and both women turned their heads towards the door. Cookie hurriedly tucked the journal and key away in their respective hiding places and went to the door. ‘He is home,’ she said. ‘I had better go and see what he requires. There’s aye something. Is there anything else I can get for you, Miss Charlotte?’

Charlotte shook her head, lay back on the pillow and shut her eyes.

Cookie descended the stairs slowly and saw him through the study door. She turned towards the kitchen and heard him call out. ‘Is there any news from the sick bed, Mrs Anderson?’

She turned round and saw him lean forward from his desk. He was dressed in black, as usual. ‘There is no change, sir. Will the doctor return this evening?’

‘He said he might, although I do not wish to trouble him as he is visiting so many of my flock who are stricken with this illness.’ He stood up straight and came towards her, towering high above. ‘I shall take tea presently, Mrs Anderson.’

He blinked his ink-black eyes as if there was dust in them. He rubbed them then opened them wide as if seeing clearly once more. Eyes sharp, glinting and evil like a corbie’s, thought Cookie.

Chapter Fifty

2015

Mags sat at the kitchen table with Anna, Jack and Uncle Charlie. In front of them was a pot of tea, a pile of scones and dishes of butter and homemade jam. The sound of piano music floated along the corridor and through the door.

‘I love that tune, it’s brilliant isn’t it?’ Anna said, taking another scone. ‘These are delicious, Auntie Mags, really light.’

Jack spread butter thickly onto his scone. ‘Your food’s always good.’ He dolloped on some jam. ‘What are you cooking for the big lunch next weekend, Auntie Mags?’

‘Well, it’ll be the first time we’ve all been together since the funeral.’ She twiddled with a loose strand of hair then glanced back at Anna and Jack. ‘So I thought we’d have a whole fillet of beef. You like that, don’t you, Uncle Charlie?’ She raised her voice. ‘Imagine, you’ll be ninety soon!’

‘Yeah, Grandpa, we need to get you a new outfit. Not every day you reach such a milestone!’ Anna took her grandfather’s bony hand in hers and beamed at him.

Charlie smiled back but said nothing.

‘You’ll love it. I know you keep telling us you don’t want a party, but that’s just nonsense,’ said Anna, shaking her head and looking straight at him, a cheeky grin on her face.

Charlie patted her hand then pushed his chair back and slowly stood up.

‘You okay, Uncle Charlie?’ asked Mags.

‘Fine. Just need the toilet,’ he said, shuffling towards the
door.

‘Granny’s ring looks nice on you, Anna, the garnet suits your colouring.’

‘You sure I’m meant to have it, Auntie Mags? Why don’t Lottie and I share it, a few months each?’

‘Nope, your mum loved it and so it’s for you, only you, sweetheart.’

‘Grandpa’s doing a bit better now, don’t you think?’ said Jack.

‘He’s eating better,’ said Mags, ‘and he doesn’t seem as, well, depressed as he has been for the past six months.’

‘Auntie Peggy’s good for him, makes him laugh,’ said Jack. Charlie came back in and sat down.

‘Do you want more tea, Uncle Charlie?’ asked Jack.

Charlie sat down, leant over the table and cupped his hand to his ear. ‘What? Speak up.’

‘More tea?’

‘Thank you,’ he said, pushing his cup across the table.

The piano music started up again, another tune, different in style, louder.

Mags smiled. ‘That’s a Chopin piece now. It’s like an Usher Hall concert in here today, isn’t it?’ She topped up everyone’s tea then looked at the clock. ‘Your Dad should be here soon,’ she said to Jack and Anna, twiddling with an earring. ‘He’s doing a bit better now too. What do you both think?’

‘Yeah, Dad’s okay. He’s working silly hours at the practice but I think that’s good for him, keeps him focused.’ Jack reached out towards the scones. ‘Okay if I have another one, Auntie Mags?’

She laughed. ‘Of course, Jack, so good to see you tuck in. I love feeding people with a good appetite.’

‘I know, sickening isn’t it. He eats like a horse and still manages to be the skinniest person in town.’ Anna shook her head as she looked at her brother, reaching over to poke him in the ribs. He ignored her and reached for the butter.

There was a moment of silence from the dining room. Then there was the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

‘We’re in here!’ Mags shouted as Lottie came rushing in. She gave her cousins and Uncle Charlie hugs then sat down at the table as the piano began again.

‘Why’s Dad giving us a concert?’ She pointed towards the dining room.

‘He said he’d entertain us till Gerry arrives, then he’ll stop and get the beer out.’ Mags smiled at Lottie. ‘He still can’t play that Chopin piece anything like as well as you can, darling, but he’s trying.’

Anna picked her bag up and looked at her phone. ‘That’s a text from Dad,’ she said. ‘He’s running a bit late.’

Anna dumped her bag back on the floor and looked at Mags. ‘He was going to tell you the latest news, but why don’t we just do that before he comes, so he doesn’t have to tell you himself and get all maudlin again.’

Mags leant her head to one side and swallowed. ‘What news?’

‘He heard from the policeman in Newcastle. That man who caused our accident eventually showed up at the court and finally pleaded guilty, so he got a fine of £180 and six points off his licence.’

‘Is that all?’ asked Mags, incredulous.

‘I know. Not much, is it.’ Jack said.

‘Still,’ said Mags. ‘Chris would’ve been pleased – at least he was found guilty. Though he kept trying to claim it
wasn’t his fault, didn’t he?’

‘Yeah. There was too much evidence against him though – photos, witness statements and everything. Anyway, it’s good it’s all over now.’ Jack leant back against his chair. ‘It’s a bit like when we heard the final outcome of Mum’s case last week, then we all had closure.’

The piano music stopped. Jack looked over at Charlie who was staring out of the window, humming. He leant in towards Mags. ‘Auntie Mags, did Dad tell you about the results of the hearing?’

Mags shook her head and looked down at her hands. Her knuckles were white, they were clamped together so tightly on her lap.

‘They said Mum must have somehow forgotten the road had changed from dual to single carriageway.’ Jack scratched his head. ‘It was so unlike her, she was a good driver, but they blamed it on the stress she’d been suffering since our accident. We never knew she’d been on medication from the doctor for it. Did you?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

Jack carried on. ‘So it looks like she’d taken more Prozac than she was meant to that morning and that must have affected her concentration.’

Jack looked up. ‘Hi, Uncle Doug.’

Doug came into the kitchen, beaming. ‘So where’s the applause? Not every day you get a Chopin concerto during your tea break!’

Anna and Jack clapped politely and Charlie, after looking at them in confusion, joined in with a couple of claps.

Lottie looked up at her father. ‘You need to work on the pedal more in that mazurka, Dad, makes it livelier. And watch the grace notes, you’re making them too long.’

‘Thanks, Miss!’ Doug said, joining them at the table. Charlie stretched out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Charlie Duncan.’

Doug shook it. ‘Nice to meet you too, Charlie.’ He glanced at Anna and Jack, who exchanged anxious looks.

Mags said, her voice flat, ‘Jack was just saying how good it is now there’s closure on Chris’s accident.’

Doug sat down beside Mags. Lottie glanced at her parents who were both silent. She nodded. ‘The main thing is that it’s over now and you can all try to move on, rebuild your lives and all that.’ She looked over at Anna and Jack. ‘I mean, we’re six months on now and you guys are doing brilliantly.’ She leant over to give Lottie a hug and reached over to squeeze Jack’s shoulder.

Doug looked up at the clock. ‘Five o’clock. Is it too early for a beer? Your Dad should be here soon, Jack. Want to join me?’

‘Cheers, Uncle Doug,’ said Jack. ‘I’d love one.’

An hour later, Mags looked over the table at Uncle Charlie, whose rheumy eyes were bloodshot. He took out a large handkerchief and blew his nose.

‘Hope you’re not getting Mum’s cold, Uncle Charlie.’

He shook his head and smiled. ‘No, I never get too near her!’ He pushed the handkerchief back deep into his pocket. He looked worn out.

‘Doug,’ said Mags. ‘Are you okay to drive Uncle Charlie home?’

‘Yeah, no problem,’ he said, putting down his beer. ‘I’ve only had one and a bit. Do you want me to take you home now, Charlie?’ he asked, raising his voice as he always did when speaking to him.

‘Thank you, I’d better get home and see how my mother is.’

Mags and Doug glanced at each other.

‘You mean your sister Peggy, Uncle Charlie.’ Mags smiled and looked closely at him. He seemed confused for a moment then shook his head. ‘Yes, that’s it, my big sister, she keeps me right.’

‘I’ll get your coat,’ said Mags. ‘Kids, come and say bye to Grandpa.’

Charlie was silent all the way to Leith as Doug chatted to him about the weather and football. The old man simply nodded now and then and looked out the window. When they arrived at Peggy’s house, Charlie sat forward and stretched out his bony arm to rest his hand on Doug’s forearm. He looked straight ahead and said, ‘I saw you that day.’

‘What day, Charlie?’

‘That day in the woods, long ago. I saw you and Chris go into the cottage.’

Doug leant in towards him. ‘I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Charlie. Now let’s get you inside.’ He leaned across to release his seatbelt.

‘You do know, Doug. But don’t worry, I know what happened. She couldn’t accept that you loved Mags from the start.’ He paused, his mouth open, still staring through the windscreen. ‘Chris always loved you.’

Doug sat back in his seat and looked straight ahead. He breathed out slowly then whispered, ‘But how could you have possibly been in the woods that day, Charlie?’

‘It was a funeral, my great Auntie Mary’s in Brechin. Chris came with me, Janet wasn’t well that day so had to
stay at home. Chris motored up in her own car as she said she had things to do after. She thought I’d left the funeral tea before her but I didn’t. I saw her car turn off the main road, the one from Aberdeen to Dundee.’ He screwed up his eyes.

Doug stared at him.

‘I parked my car behind hers up on the verge, at the woods. I saw the other car but had no idea whose it was till I saw you arrive at the wedding rehearsal the following week. In the same red car.

‘My Fiat 127,’ Doug nodded.

Charlie got out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

‘Did she know you were there?’

Charlie shook his head. ‘No one knew, why would I tell anyone? The week before her wedding!’ He shuffled in his seat and muttered, ‘You’d do anything for your child, anything. So, my thinking was, if I told no one, I’d never have to lie.’

He settled his head back against the head rest and his body became rigid. ‘A guard – that’s what I’ve been, guarding her secret all these years.’ He shut his eyes tight and grimaced as if in pain. ‘Secrets are dangerous, poisonous, they should remain buried.’

‘I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry.’

Charlie tucked away his handkerchief then turned to face Doug. ‘What for?’ Charlie looked around him, disoriented. ‘Why are you sorry?’

‘Never mind,’ said Doug. ‘Let’s get you inside to see Peggy.’

‘Yes, and my father will be home soon, so I mustn’t be late. Mother was getting herring for the tea.’

Doug opened his door and ran round to let Charlie out.

He took his arm and walked him along the path. ‘Are you all right now, Charlie?’

Charlie looked at Doug as if they had just been introduced. ‘Grand. Thank you very much for the lift, young man. Give my regards to the family.’

Doug helped him over the step as Peggy opened the door and let her brother pass.

Doug gave her a kiss. ‘How’s your cold?’

‘Oh, fine. It’s my knees though, they’re giving me even more grief.’

She watched her brother hang his coat on a hook then trudge along the corridor. ‘How was he?’

‘Okay, though he wandered a bit latterly. Seems to think he was coming back to his old home in Dundee with his mother and father.’

She shook her head and sniffed. ‘He seems to be living in the past. Firmly lodged in the 1930s, with occasional outings to the forties and fifties.’

‘And the eighties today too.’ Doug looked at his watch. ‘I’d better get back. Gerry was running late, but he’ll be at the house now. Bye, Peggy.’

He looked back to the house before he got into his car. Standing at the window was Charlie, now with his dark cardigan on. His willowy, lean body was stooped. Doug waved but the old man didn’t see him.

He was looking directly up at the oak tree in the garden. Doug glanced at the high branches to see some crows thrash about, wings flapping, the noise of their squawks jarring.

That evening, Mags and Doug lounged together on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table, glasses of red wine in their
hands. She planted a kiss on Doug’s nose. He smiled. ‘I’m a lucky man.’

‘No, I’m a lucky woman. I’ll never forget what I did, I can’t, I’ve ruined a family, people I love. And I can’t justify anything, except that, well, she was the one who betrayed me all those years ago.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But the fact that you were there, Doug, willing to take the blame, to go to prison for me… I’ll never forget that.’