The Nickum (16 page)

Now, he was a fugitive from justice. Nobody would believe any denials he made; and there were those three women in the Tufted Duck. But wait! They might come in handy, mightn’t they? They would vouch for him being there at what could be the time of the deaths. They would give him a perfect alibi. He had gone out to get drunk because his wife had said she wasn’t coming back to him after the baby was born. That was reasonable. But he’d rather he managed to get clear away and didn’t have to say anything. He’d been lucky to sneak into this old shed they had never used, and he hadn’t heard a sound since. Whoever had come to the cottage had surely gone away again when he got no answer to his knock. So the bodies hadn’t been found yet, and it would be safe to make his escape, though he’d no idea where to go. Hopefully, something would come to him.

Peeping round the rickety door and seeing nobody, he decided he may as well run for it now. Jumping the low wooden fence, he raced into the wood. If he just got clear of this area before the police came looking for him, he’d be happy. They would come looking for him, that was an absolute certainty. The husband was always the first suspect. They would spread the net, of course, when they couldn’t find him, but by nightfall he should be far enough away to be safe. He could start a new life somewhere else, change his name and get married again if he felt like it.

Unfortunately, it did not enter his head that his flight would pin the murder on him quicker than any evidence could do.

It was the following morning before the detectives came, yet after a whole night of individually going over what had happened, not one of the Fowlies felt any easier about being interviewed. Willie’s statement naturally held their attention most, and DI Bruce questioned him repeatedly, trying to find a chink in his story, but finally having to accept it as the truth. ‘Thank you, Willie,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry if I gave the impession that I doubted you, but we have to be absolutely sure of our facts before we can accuse anyone, and have a case that will hold water. As it is, there is still a lot of work to do. We must discover his movements over the whole day, and of course, locate him, which we will do, no matter where he is hiding.’ Rising to leave, he remarked, ‘And Mr Fowlie, Mr McIntyre says you do not have to return to work until you feel ready. This has been a terrible ordeal for your family, and they need you.’

It was Emily who answered, her voice unsteady but determined. ‘That’s very kind of him, but tell him Jake will be back tomorrow. There’s really nothing he can do here.’

As soon as the two men left, she made both Willie and Jake go back to bed and busied herself with the housework as being the only way to take her mind off the tragedy. It didn’t work, of course.

Connie’s murder three years earlier had badly affected all the Fowlies. Jake had been working every minute of the day, refusing to let Willie leave school to help him. ‘I’ll manage mysel’,’ he snapped. ‘I’m nae a decrepit aul’ fool just yet.’ Willie was torn between grief for his sister, who had been the only one ever to show him true affection – apart from Gramma Fowlie, who was now crippled with arthritis – and yearning for the education he knew he was capable of. Emily was most affected. Not only had she lost her elder daughter for ever, Becky had written nothing since her arrival in America. To cap it all, her own mother had gone to live with her other daughter in London. She had never been all that friendly. She had been against Jake from the very start, but she was the only relative Emily had had in Scotland. She had withdrawn into herself and still showed no interest in anyone or anything. But life seemed to go on around her.

When the results of the examinations came out, both Millie Meldrum and Willie had passed every subject with flying colours. Millie was jubilant, and the elated Willie had grabbed her round the waist and whirled her round in front of students and masters. The denouement had come when he arrived home. ‘I canna afford to put you to University,’ Jake said, ‘so put it richt oot’n your heid.’ A tentative appeal to his mother was met with silence, and Willie knew that the subject was closed.

Millie threatened her father that she wouldn’t go if Willie couldn’t go, and there the matter may have remained if Fate had not taken a hand. Mrs Meldrum, who generally paid little attention to what her husband and daughter talked about, suddenly observed, ‘Why can’t you pay for Willie at the Varsity like you’ve done for him at the Academy? What the bursary didn’t cover, I mean.’

‘My dear, it’s an entirely different situation,’ her husband replied, but she had given him cause to think. Not being a man to dive at things without thinking, he gave it some deep consideration, and at last came up with a solution. It would all depend, of course.

Willie offered his services to his father for the holidays, with the promise of looking for a job for himself later, and having been refused – Jake’s way of making up for not letting him go to University – spent the next two weeks going cycling with Millie. Their favourite destination was a small loch, its grassy banks concealed from prying eyes by bushes. It was too good a place to waste, and the two young people took full advantage of it. Millie took a picnic with her, and they would sit on the lush, velvety grass for an hour or more sometimes, the talking and eating periods getting shorter as they spent more and more time telling each other of their love.

It was difficult for Willie to think that he would hardly ever see Millie after she started at University, and not only that, she would likely fall in love with some other boy. She laughed at him for saying this, and sometimes countered it by saying, ‘I’ll never look at another boy, but maybe you’re wanting to get another girl. Is that it?’

They were lying side by side, in a good position for kissing, so he pulled her towards him and kissed her as neither of them had kissed before. Time passed unnoticed, each experiencing emotions that they were aware were fully adult, and not knowing what to do. Desperate as he was to show her how much he loved her, Willie pulled back suddenly. It wouldn’t be right. They were too young to take on the responsibility of the child that could result from his ignorance.

She seemed hurt as they looked at each other, but he could only say, ‘No, not yet, Millie.’

‘You don’t want to?’

‘Don’t ever think that,’ he burst out. ‘Of course I want to, but we’ll have to wait until I’m earning enough to support …’

‘But you’ll be coming to University, please, Willie? Please?’

‘I wish I could, my darling, but I’ll have to work for a living.’

Jake was astonished to see Mr Meldrum on his doorstep at nine o’clock that night. He had not long finished his supper, working until darkness fell, and was sitting in his shirt sleeves and galluses. ‘Come in, sir,’ he said, deferentially, for he was well aware that this man had paid for many items Willie had needed at the Academy.

‘Is William in? I want to be sure that he doesn’t hear our conversation.’

‘Aye, Willie’s in, but he’s up in his room readin’. He’ll nae hear what you have to say. When his heid’s in a book, he’s dead to the world.’’

‘It’s about Willie, you see, Mr Fowlie. My daughter tells me that you don’t want him to go to University.’

‘It’s nae that I don’t want him to go,’ Jake said carefully, looking at his wife and pleased to see that she was listening.

‘I understand, but I still feel that it is a shame for him to waste such ability as his.’

‘I canna afford to put him, and that’s a fact. If you’re thinking on offering to pay for him again I canna accept.’

‘No, Mr Fowlie, I am not exactly offering to pay for him. What is being offered is …’ He pulled a face and followed it by a mischievous smile. ‘I’ve been talking to the Reverend Fyfe, who said he knew that your William was a very intelligent boy. When I explained that he had enough qualifications for University, but that he couldn’t go because of your financial situation, he made the offer to me and saved me having to ask. We will go fifty-fifty on all William’s expenses.’

‘I’ve had enough charity,’ Jake exclaimed, thumping his fist on the arm of his chair. ‘You ken I’ll never be able to pay you back, an’ I canna be in debt to the minister as weel.’

‘You misunderstand, Jake,’ Mr Meldrum soothed. ‘Neither of us want to be repaid. We are both very fond of the boy and would hate to think of him losing his rightful place in the world. Please try to see it from his point of view. He is so clever, there is nothing that he couldn’t tackle and do well. He could be a doctor, a minister, a schoolmaster, a politician even. There is no limit to what he could achieve – if you will only allow him his chance.’

Emily spoke now, for the first time. ‘He’s right, Jake. We’ve both known for a while that Willie could go on to better things, but I’ve been as big a stumbling block as you, and now he’s on the doorstep to a good career, we have to give him the chance.’

Mr Meldrum beamed at her. ‘Thank you for this, Mrs Fowlie. You will never regret it.’

She gave a wry smile. ‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that, though. Willie has always been a puzzle to me. My mother-in-law used to call him a wee nickum, and so he was, always full of mischief, and maybe he always will be, but I can’t stand in his way now.’

‘May we keep it a secret between us until tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘As you possibly know, my daughter and your William have been seeing quite a lot of each other lately, and I’m sure she would love to be the one to tell him the good news.’

Jake nodded. ‘So be it, but I’ll make sure Willie pays back every penny you spend on him. Be sure o’ that, Mr Meldrum, you an’ the minister baith.’

‘If he graduates with honours, that will be all the payment we need. It’s been good having this little chat with you, but I must bid you good day. No need for you to get up,’ he smiled to Emily as she made to stand. ‘I can see myself out.’

Husband and wife looked at each other when they heard the door close behind him, Jake raising his eyebrows as he said, ‘Well, that was a surprise, but I’m nae that keen on the idea o’ bein’ beholden to him and the minister.’

‘They’re doing it for Willie,’ Emily sighed, ‘and while I wonder if they’ll come to regret it, I’m grateful to them for it. At one time, I’d never have thought he had it in him to go to the Academy, never mind the University, but give him his due, he’s worked hard and he deserves to get on.’

When Willie came downstairs about half an hour later, he sat down in silence for a few moments and then burst out, ‘I’ve been thinking, Dad. You know I’m not that keen on working on the land?’

Puzzled at what his son was about to say, and half believing that he had been eavesdropping on the conversation with Mr Meldrum, Jake just nodded.

‘What if I was to give it a try for – say a couple of months, and if I said I still couldn’t face it as a full-time job for life, or if you thought I was useless, would you let me look for another job for myself? Something I felt I could be happy at?’

If his mind had not been so engrossed in his own thoughts, he might have seen the conspiratorial look that passed between his parents, but he did not recognise it. ‘I’ll work really hard for you, Dad, I’ll give it a good try, I promise.’

Stifling the urge to put his son out of this uncertainty about his future, Jake managed to say, ‘Aye, well, we’ll wait an’ see what happens, eh?’

‘OK. I’d better start tomorrow, then.’ He was clearly anxious to get to the end of the next eight weeks, but recalling what was going to happen the next day, Jake said, ‘Ach, we’d be as weel leavin’ it till Monday.’

‘Thanks, Dad, and if tomorrow will be my last free day for a while, I may as well make the most of it.’

He set off on his bicycle, kept spotless and in good running order, just after nine, his heart singing as he took care not to hit any of the large stones that always seemed to litter the track down to the road. This part of Aberdeenshire was mostly stony ground, evidence of the scree taken down by the glaciers making their way down the mountains to the sea at the end of the Ice Age. However often the farm labourers tried to clear them off, there were as many again the next time the fields were ploughed.

At Burnton schoolhouse, the three Meldrums were just finishing breakfast, and Willie apologised when Janet, the little maid, showed him in.

‘It’s all right, my boy,’ grinned his old headmaster, ‘There’s no need to apologise for being early. It is we who should apologise for being such sluggards.’ And his wife added, ‘Don’t bother clearing the dishes, Millie, Janet and I will easily manage.’

Willie did not have time to speculate as to why the man and his wife looked so pleased with themselves; Millie had jumped up from the table and was dragging him outside. ‘Bye Mum. Bye Dad,’ she called, picking up the small picnic basket as she went through the hall.

She looked so lovely, so happy, her dark blue eyes dancing, her goldie hair blowing in the breeze, that Willie found difficulty in fixing the basket to the carrier on the back of his cycle. What he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her until they both ran out of breath. But he couldn’t do that in full view of the dining room window.

‘Could we go to Carter Loch?’ she asked, as they set off. ‘I’ve something to tell you, and that’s as good a place as any.’

‘Something good, or something bad?’

‘Something good – well, I hope you’ll think it’s good.’

‘I’ve something to tell you, as well,’ his smile was forced. ‘But I’ll let you go first.’

‘When we get there.’

Their journey took them the best part of an hour, but neither of them minded. They loved the fresh smell of the pine trees on either side for some miles, the rainbow colours of the wild flowers on the grass verges, masses of foxgloves swaying in the wind, patches of blue forget-menots, white Stars of Bethlehem, sorrel. ‘When I was little,’ Millie told him, ‘we used to play at shops, and we used the red bits of sorrel for mince.’

He wished he had known her when she was a little girl. ‘Poopie and I just used to play cowboys and Indians.’

‘Poopie?’

‘Don’t ask.’

‘I am asking. Why was he called Poopie? It wasn’t very nice.’