The Shadow of the Sycamores (17 page)

Abby stood up to take the baby and Pogie heaved the solid armchair up and swung it round to face the other way. ‘That’s it, then. Off you go.’

Fay glanced at Henry, who had turned red at the thought of what his sister was doing, and realised with a shock that she, herself, wasn’t in the least embarrassed. In fact, she wished
that she could watch how the infant suckled and even felt a tingling in her own breasts.

Pogie kept the conversation going while his wife was thus occupied, asking Fay about herself, how had she met Henry, what her parents thought about the hasty wedding. This had Abby, listening to his every word, exclaim, ‘Oh, Pogie, you don’t ask things like that.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Fay assured her. ‘I left home because Father was against us getting wed and I went back to The Sycamores with Henry. It was Mr Ledingham who arranged for us to go to Aberdeen the next morning to be married and, as it turned out, we needn’t have gone. Mother got my father to change his mind, so we could have had a proper wedding after all … if we’d waited.’

Pogie nodded. ‘But won’t it be fun telling your children and grandchildren that you had to run away to be wed? That’s much more romantic than having arranged it weeks, even months, ahead, don’t you think?’

‘I suppose so.’ After giving it some thought, she laughed, ‘Of course it is and it was still as legal as being in a church.’

‘You don’t regret it, then?’ Henry asked, having worried about this.

‘Not for one second. Pogie’s right. It was far more romantic than being in a church.’ She turned to her new brother-in-law again. ‘That clerk was not very welcoming and the room was not at all inspiring but, yes, all in all, it was romantic and I’ll never forget it.’

When the infant had finished feeding, Pogie took on the task of changing him, to let his wife talk to the callers. Not a natural conversationalist, Abby felt inadequate at first, merely answering their questions, but she was soon talking to Fay as if they were old friends. In fact, she felt so easy in her company that she turned to Henry and said, ‘You’ll be going to tell Father and Nessie, as well?’

‘No,’ he said at once. ‘I told you before, I’ll never go inside that house again.’

To cover her gaffe, Abby jumped up. ‘You’ll take some
dinner before you go back to The Sycamores?’

While she got out the plates, Pogie offered his son to Fay who accepted him timidly. ‘I don’t know how to hold a baby,’ she mewed.

‘You’re doing fine,’ Pogie grinned. ‘He’ll let you know if you’re hurting him.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘We called him Clarence – that’s Pogie’s real name,’ Abby said over her shoulder as she stirred the pot of soup on the hob.

As Henry watched his bride cooing over the little bundle, he was assailed by a strange new emotion. He had thought that Fay was all he would ever need but he really needed a proper family. They needed a son but he would let the suggestion come from her. She was hardly seventeen, a sheltered seventeen, and motherhood would be too much for her to cope with for years yet.

The dishes had just been washed and laid away when someone else knocked at the door and walked in, halting when she saw that Abby and Pogie were not alone. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had visitors.’

‘It’s all right, Nessie.’ On his feet now, Pogie shepherded her in. ‘You know Henry, of course, and this is his bride, Fay. They were wed yesterday.’

Her surprise quickly hidden, the woman walked across to Fay and shook her hand. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, and congratulations, to the both of you.’

‘Nessie’s my father’s wife,’ Henry murmured, wishing that he was somewhere else.

She smiled broadly. ‘You’ll have to come home wi’ me and tell him the good news yourself.’

Fay jumped in before Henry could refuse. ‘That’s very kind of you, Nessie. We’ll be glad to, will we not, Henry?’

It wasn’t actually anger at his wife that he felt at that moment. He just wondered if she was always going to take her own way. ‘Yes, thank you,’ he mumbled. ‘But we’ve got to get back so we can’t stay long.’

On the way to Oak Cottage, Henry prayed that his wife would not ask his father about the name Tchouki. The man wouldn’t like to be reminded about his first wife’s infidelity.

Thankfully, Fay did not touch on the subject. She was her natural amiable self and he could see that his father was bowled over by her.

Eventually, Willie turned to him. ‘And how do you like working at The Sycamores?’

‘I like it fine,’ Henry said honestly, ‘but I’ll need to look for a better paid job if I’m to keep a wife.’

‘We’ve plenty room here for you and your wife and as many bairns as you want to have,’ Willie said without consulting his own wife. ‘My hands are getting stiff wi’ the rheumatics so you could move in here and help me in the smiddy.’

Henry had trouble believing this. Just a few years ago, his father had practically thrown him and his sister out yet now he was being invited back. ‘No, Father,’ he said, firmly. ‘I am not built to be a blacksmith and, in any case, I want to find a house for myself. It’s my responsibility to look after my wife and any family we have – not my father’s.’

Nessie defused the delicate situation by putting her arm round his shoulder. ‘Of course he doesn’t want to move in wi’ us, Willie, for the same reason we sent him and Abby to their Gramma. They want to be on their own – just like we did.’

His father’s knowing expression annoyed Henry but Fay said shyly, ‘It will be best for us. I have little experience of cooking or actual housework so I am bound to make mistakes and I would hate anyone to know. It’s very kind of you to offer, Mr Rae, but we cannot accept.’

Her gracious manner was all that was needed and Willie put
his
arm round
her.
‘Aye, I can see what you mean but you’ll be welcome here any time, mind that. And if you ever need anything …’

‘We’ll manage,’ Henry said brusquely, then, at Fay’s slight frown, he qualified it. ‘If we do need anything, I’ll know where to come. Thank you, Father. Well, we’d better be going. We’ve left the pony and trap at Abby’s.’

Willie and Nessie both saw them out and they were aware of being watched as they walked smartly along the road. Less than five minutes later, Abby was telling Fay to come back any time and Pogie was asking Henry how the visit to Oak Cottage had gone. ‘Willie’s been a good father-in-law to me,’ he said earnestly. ‘I know Abby and you had a pretty rough time with him and Nessie for a while, but they have both mellowed. It is far better to be friends than to harbour grudges from years back.’ He bit his bottom lip and went on, ‘That goes for Fay’s father as well. He was thinking of his daughter’s welfare without considering her happiness. But that is also in the past, don’t forget.’

‘Aye, you’re right. It takes two to keep up a quarrel.’

In Oak Cottage, Nessie could see that her husband was brooding over something. ‘What’s troubling you, Willie? Henry’s got himself a real nice wife.’

‘That’s nae what’s worrying me. Tell me, did he say anything to you about … his birth certificate?’

‘Not a word but he must have got it or he couldn’t have got wed.’

‘So he kens.’

‘Kens what? Is there something queer on his birth certificate? Was your first wife not his mother? Was it some other woman?’

‘Nothing like that. Bella was his mother. She died giving birth to him.’

‘Well, what …? Are you not his father, then?’

‘Of course I’m his father but …’ Willie shook his head hopelessly. ‘I’d best tell you but it’s a long story.’

‘I’ve got plenty of time.’

Nessie had been apprehensive, wondering what on earth could have been wrong with a birth certificate but, as the tale unfolded, she couldn’t help smiling. ‘You believed the Session Clerk when he said it was a Russian name? Oh, Willie Rae, that’s the funniest thing I ever heard and I’m not surprised Isie sent you back to get it changed.’

The final touches, the whisky drinking, John Gow’s refusal
to alter the name, made her double up with laughter. ‘I had the feeling you’d been a boozer before we wed,’ she gurgled after a while. ‘That’s why I wouldn’t let you out on your own if I could help it but I know you used to sneak out to The Doocot when you got the chance.’

Deeply put out by his wife’s reception of what he considered a big problem, it did not occur to Willie to warn her to keep it to herself so Nessie, quite innocently, passed the hilarious story around her small circle of friends who, in turn, circulated it to a much wider audience. In just a matter of days, therefore, word had gone round most of the inhabitants of Ardbirtle, backed up, if proof were needed, by Mrs John Gow, who had been the first to know – after her husband. Unfortunately, like all gossip, the basic facts were inevitably embroidered upon and grew to be a story of Bella’s adultery with a Russian sailor – although where the poor soul could have met a Russian sailor was never explained.

There were, happily for Willie, still some stalwarts who did not believe a word of it. Geordie Mavor fell out with his wife over it and his brother Tam threatened to punch his next-door neighbour for slandering the dead woman, ‘innocent as the day she was born’.

It was some weeks before Ben Roberts, during a visit to the smiddy, told Willie what was being said. ‘It might be a good thing if you came to The Doocot and put an end to the rumour,’ the Londoner advised. ‘I hardly knew your first wife but I do know that she would never have done what they think.’

Willie’s first feeling was anger at Nessie for ‘clyping’ so, as soon as Ben had taken his newly shod horse away, he stamped into the house to have it out with her. ‘I thought you would’ve had more sense than tell outsiders what’s on my son’s birth certificate!’ he roared. ‘Ben Roberts says everybody thinks my poor Bella had been taking up wi’ a Russky.’

Nessie had turned pale. ‘Oh, Willie, I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything like that. I only told some of my friends about the mix-up over the name to give them a laugh. I never thought they’d twist things round to suit themselves.’

‘You should’ve ken’t …’

She nodded sadly. ‘Aye, I should.’

‘Ben Roberts says I should go to The Doocot and put an end to the rumour so I’ll go there after supper – no matter what you say.’

Nessie had congratulated herself on stopping his drinking but this was different. This was a necessity – to undo trouble she had unwittingly caused. ‘You’d best go, Willie, if that’s what Ben Roberts says.’ She issued not one word of caution as to the amount he could consume and prepared to turn a blind eye if he came home drunk.

Geordie Mavor gave his brother a kick on the shin. ‘Look who’s just walked in.’

Tam looked round and smiled. ‘Aye, aye, Willie. We havena seen you for a good while. Sit doon and gi’e’s your …’

‘I’ll keep standing if you dinna mind.’ Willie’s eyes went round the small room and he smiled with satisfaction at the number of men already there. ‘I’ve something to say,’ he announced loudly, making every head turn in his direction. ‘I’ve been hearing what folks is saying about my Bella and I’m here to tell you the true story of the name on Henry’s birth certificate.’

Desperate to hear this, every man in the room cocked his ears – most were so interested that they forgot about the glass in front of them. ‘Some o’ you can maybe mind,’ Willie began, ‘I was celebrating here the day my son was born but I went hame to find by wife had died. Isie McIntyre, my mother-in-law, sent me to register the birth and the death and I came back here for I’d been drinking wi’ John Gow and I ken’t he’d still be here.’

Geordie clapped his hands with glee. ‘That’s right, Willie, I can mind that. And you and him was stottin’ fu’ when you went oot.’ A chorus of ‘Wheesht, man,’ wiped the grin from his face.

Willie told them everything that he could remember about his first visit to the vestry and his glare, circling the entire
room, dared anyone to say a word. Then he said, ‘Now I’ll tell you the bit that naebody seems to ken.’

By the time he was halfway through this account, most of his listeners’ faces bore some degree of smile and, when he came to the end, they, like Nessie had been, were doubled up with mirth.

‘Oh, man, Willie,’ Tam sniggered, ‘what a idiot you was. You minded hearing Isie say Chookie to the bairn, and you thocht …’

‘My brain was pickled wi’ whisky,’ Willie reminded him, humbly now.

‘That’s the best laugh I’ve had in years,’ Ben Roberts told him. ‘Sit down, Willie, and I’ll give you a dram on the house.’

Needing no further persuasion, Willie sat down beside his two old cronies but Geordie said, nose wrinkled in puzzlement, ‘But you’ve never tell’t us where Bella met this Russian lad.’

Outraged, his brother picked up his cloth cap and gave him a wallop on the ear. ‘Geordie, you never had much o’ a brain fae the time you was born and what you had was pickled afore you was twenty. Did you nae listen to what Willie said? Chookie was what Isie McIntyre cried to her hens when she went oot to feed them …’

‘Aye but where did the Russky come in?’

‘Godalmichty, Geordie! There never
was
a Russky. Willie got a bit mixed-up … Ach, what’s the use? Get back to sleep, man, it’s the only thing you’re good at.’

There was quite a buzz of conversation going on around them, as Willie had expected, but what he had not expected was the numerous tots of whisky laid down in front of him with comments such as, ‘My God, Willie, I dinna ken if I could’ve stood up and tell’t the truth like that.’

And, ‘It takes courage to own up to a mistake like you made.’

Or, ‘I admire a man that can say something like that.’

At closing time, Willie discovered that, in spite of his intention not to take any liquor, he had drunk as much as he used to take when he was a regular at The Doocot and it was having an even worse effect on him. Ben Roberts, fully aware that
Willie’s condition was actually his fault, left his wife to lock up the bar while he helped the incapable man home.

Nessie accepted his help to get her husband to bed, an almost impossible task, which ended in him being practically thrown on top of the bedclothes with all his clothes on, a bulky, floppy bundle.