There was a moment or two of silence before Enac scoffed, ‘And yet your aunt’s the bold one! Always making so much of the laird’s old mother when she calls maybe to give her a piece of venison that her own dogs won’t eat!’
‘Ach no. That’s not the way of it at all. My aunt quite likes the old woman,’ Euan Ally defended. ‘I believe the old woman carries a copy of the Good Book about with her, and they read it together sometimes, though my aunt doesn’t take much of it in since she’s more used to a Gaelic Bible.’
There were slightly raised eyebrows but no comments while Kirsty unwrapped and inspected the haunch of venison.
‘Will I take that and hang it in the cool?’ Jamie volunteered.
‘You do that and we’ll eat the salmon tonight, unless you would sooner have salt herring again?’
‘Salt herring for me,’ piped up Wee Ruari.
‘And for me and for Ally I expect.’ Enac glanced up at her husband.
‘Aye, keep the salmon till Monday, till my uncle gets here. He says we’re to fetch him then if the weather is good enough,’ Euan Ally said.
‘You’re expecting him to come as soon as Monday?’ Kirsty was surprised.
‘That’s if the Lord spares him,’ said Jamie, reminding them that Uncle Lachy never left the Lord out of his calculations. ‘He seems keen enough to start now he reckons the worst of the weather’s past. Anyway, the laird’s taken on a new gamekeeper so he’ll be wanting to stay out of the way for a whiley till he hears what like of man he is. The last one kind of winked an eye at Lachy’s poaching though well he knew of it.’
‘What happened to the last keeper,’ Kirsty enquired.
‘Ach, hasn’t he buggered off, after some woman they’re saying,’ Jamie observed derisively.
They ate their meal of salt herring and potatoes, and afterwards Kirsty produced the cake she had baked, now resplendent with icing, in readiness for the return of the newlyweds. Their eyes widened in surprise as she put it on the table.
‘My, but it’s good!’ Enac complimented her when she’d taken a bite. ‘Better than the one we had in Glasgow. Is that not so, Ally?’ Euan Ally nodded enthusiastically, his mouth too full to speak.
‘If they make cakes half as good as this in Glasgow then I’m thinking I’d best be away there sometime,’ Jamie muttered appreciatively.
‘I believe it would be better for a dram of whisky on it,’ said Euan Ally, reaching to cut himself another slice. Kirsty forbore from mentioning that the cake had at least one dram of whisky in it.
‘It’s not as good as clootie dumpling,’ stated Wee Ruari flatly. He stood up. ‘I’d best go and see if there’s any eggs,’ he told them, running outside with the egg basket. There would be eggs, Kirsty knew. She always left the laying boxes uncleared when he was likely to be home.
‘Look at that!’ ejaculated Jamie. ‘He’s eaten only the icing.’ He helped himself to the cake left on Wee Ruari’s plate. ‘I’ll not see it wasted,’ he added.
‘So your uncle is sure he’s seeing signs of the spring?’ Kirsty enquired.
‘Aye, and he’s pretty good at telling the weather.’
‘Another of his talents?’ she quipped lightly.
‘He’s right enough there,’ put in Jamie. ‘I was seeing my first spider this morning just.’ He looked at Euan Ally. ‘We’ll be needin’ to get The Two Ruaris fit for sea before the weekend.’
‘Aye, and dry out the fo’csle for my Uncle has a mind to sleep there when he comes over,’ Euan Ally reminded him.
‘But can’t he sleep in the loft?’ Enac protested. ‘Kirsty is after putting a mattress up there ready.’
‘His uncle’s wife forbids her man to sleep in the house when I am here,’ Kirsty told her. ‘The mattress in the loft was not put there for Euan Ally’s uncle.’
‘My aunt is feared of Kirsty enticing her man,’ explained Euan Ally. Kirsty only smiled.
Enac said, ‘Aye, right enough, there’d be plenty of women in Clachan itself would like fine to poach a poacher without him coming here.’
They were still chuckling as Kirsty went out to feed the hens. When she came back Jamie imparted the news that Peggy up at the Cam in Clachan had got ‘touries’ already and that Willie Joe had got himself a new boat and was starting to take the ‘touries’ on fishing trips.
‘They’re starting early enough,’ Kirsty commented.
‘Aye, and there’s one or two of the wifies has got blankets out on the dykes so they must be expecting more,’ Euan Ally confirmed.
‘Touries or pilgrims,’ Enac supplied. ‘First comes the spiders spinning their webs and then come the pilgrims spinning their tales about the best ways of getting to Heaven and then come the tinkers wanting to sell us pails and dippers more than we need, and clothes and towels and things from their bundles.’
‘All things in their season,’ remarked Jamie quietly.
Ignoring him Enac went on. ‘Myself I’d sooner the tinks than any of them, though there’s some that steal our peats.’
‘Ach, there’s few of them do that,’ Euan Ally corrected her. ‘And I reckon it’s worth a few peats to hear the news the tinks bring. They tell us more about what’s going on than the newspapers, supposing we could get newspapers here more than once in a whiley anyway.’
‘Maybe, maybe,’ Enac allowed. ‘Though only last spring my own father reckoned they’d lifted a good cartload from his stack on the moors.’
‘Ach, your father was always blaming folks for taking peats he’d never cut and lambs he’d counted double.’ derided Euan Ally. ‘Amn’t I blamed for stealing his daughter just?’
‘If the tinkers don’t steal peats, how do they keep warm,’ Enac countered. ‘They don’t cut them.’
‘Ach, with whisky and rough language. When they’ve taken a few drams, it makes my ears hot to hear them,’ answered Euan Ally.
Jamie said, ‘Speaking of touries, I’ve been asked to bring over some fellow from foreign parts that’s staying at Mhairi Jane’s with his daughter. He’s a professor or something like that and his daughter’s training to be a botanist whatever that is. They’re keen to come to Westisle anyway, so likely if it’s calm enough I could collect them on Monday when I take Wee Ruari back to the school and bring them over with Lachy.’
‘I must try and be ready for visitors then,’ Kirsty acknowledged, and was surprised how much the prospect pleased her.
When The Two Ruaris crossed to Clachan on the Monday morning, taking Wee Ruari back to school and returning as expected with Euan Ally’s Uncle Lachy, Kirsty saw there were two extra figures aboard. She was too busy making a potach for the milk cow to take much interest but Jamie would, no doubt, bring any visitors up to the house for a strupak and she would meet them then. However, after setting them ashore he seemed to be leaving them to their own devices.
‘Ach, they wanted to come and get a good look at the island,’ was his response to Kirsty’s query. ‘So I said I would land them just and let them find their own way about. They’ll not come to any harm,’ he finished.
‘How long would they be wanting to look around?’
He shrugged. ‘The Dear only knows. They say they want to look for any kind of wild herbs and shrubs and things. I don’t know what like of work the man does but I would think myself he is likely to be a doctor of some sort. The lassie, his daughter, is said to be studying for a degree of some sort at a college in Canada.’
‘Oh my, but isn’t she the bonny lassie right enough,’ interposed Euan Ally. ‘Bonny enough to make an ornament, is that not so Jamie?’ He treated Kirsty to a conspiratorial wink. Jamie grunted, but dismissed the question.
‘Wait now till you get a look at her,’ Euan Ally advised with another heavy wink.
Kirsty was surprised. ‘Am I likely to be getting a look at her,’ she enquired. ‘Did anyone say there would be a strupak for them if they wished for it?’
‘Ach, they said Mhairi Jane had given them each a good poc of food and a flask
of tea, so they’ll likely not be wanting anything till they get back to Clachan.’ Jamie spoke offhandedly, but she thought he seemed a little embarrassed, even a little flushed.
‘They’re staying with Mhairi Jane, did you say?’
‘Aye, so they are. They’ll not go hungry there.’
‘That’s true indeed,’ agreed Kirsty, but all the same she would have liked to meet the subject of Euan Ally’s winking, though undoubtedly Mhairi Jane would be more than keen to impart all the information she desired on the girl and her father when next they met. She shrugged off her slight feeling of disappointment and went on her way to where she expected to find the cows.
She was returning with her milk pail two-thirds full when she came across the couple, and when they paused to exchange greetings the lassie’s eyes focused on the milk pail. It had never been a custom of Kirsty’s to cover or even to carry a lid for the pail unless the rain was bucketing down so she was not too surprised when the lassie exclaimed, ‘Daddy, just look at that milk! It’s so creamy it’s almost ochre coloured!’ She looked at Kirsty. ‘Is it Highland cows you have?’
Kirsty nodded. ‘Highlanders just,’ she acknowledged. ‘They give little enough milk but what they give is butter almost before it gets into the churn.’
The lassie sighed.
‘They seem to be going in more for shorthorn crosses in Clachan,’ the man observed.
‘I believe there’s a better sale for them on the mainland than the Highlanders, though myself I wouldn’t wish to change,’ Kirsty told him.
‘Oh, no indeed,’ agreed the lassie. ‘They’re so picturesque,’ she added. ‘But are they not more savage than the cows with shorter horns?’
‘They are not!’ stated Kirsty emphatically. ‘Even a Highland bull is kinder both to his cows and to his herdsman than is a shorthorn. Our own bull here is as gentle as a calf.’ She started to move away. ‘If the young lady would wish for a taste from my pail I would be willing for her to do that as soon as I get back to the house and put it through the sieve.’
‘Oh yes please Pop. Why don’t we?’ cried the lassie eagerly.
The man smiled indulgently. ‘I think we should at least introduce ourselves to the kind lady first, don’t you my dear.’ He held out his hand to Kirsty. ‘I’m Hugh Roberton from Montreal,’ he said. His handclasp was reassuringly firm and friendly. ‘And this is my daughter Claudine, though we call her Dina for short.’ Kirsty smiled and offered her hand.
‘And what brings you to these parts,’ she inquired politely.
‘Dina’s studying for a degree in botany,’ Hugh Roberton replied. ‘And I believe my mother came from somewhere in the islands so we took the chance of a holiday here to look around.’
‘We’ve met your son maybe?’ he continued after a moment. ‘The dark handsome young man who brought us across in his boat?’
‘Folks say he is handsome,’ Kirsty admitted, without disputing the relationship.
‘And there was a young fellow called Ally. They say they will be taking us back to Clachan before it gets dark. They told us we are to go down to the shore when we are ready.’
‘Then I will be going back to the house now,’ Kirsty told them. ‘You will be for coming along with me, or you will be for coming along later?’ Her tone was interrogative, hoping they would choose the latter alternative which they did. She indicated the track they should follow. ‘You will see the house just so soon as you reach the top of the rise, and you will be sure to find me thereabouts.’
‘We’re not likely to get lost?’ the lassie enquired light-heartedly.
Kirsty bestowed on her a teasing smile. ‘Only if you choose to be very foolish and walk into a cave instead of following along the track,’ she responded with mock gravity.
‘Dina is quite capable of doing that,’ her father warned. ‘If she thinks there might be something interesting inside.’ They were all laughing as Kirsty prepared to resume her path.
‘Is there only one house on the island?’ Hugh Roberton asked.
‘Only one that is more than a ruin,’ Kirsty confirmed. ‘You will not miss it.’
The couple conferred for a moment and then the man called, ‘We aim to follow you in a while. We have to keep our eyes skinned to see if we find any herbs or shrubs that we haven’t found elsewhere.’
‘That will be fine,’ responded Kirsty. ‘Till I see you again then.’ She gestured a farewell.
It was well into the evening before they arrived at the house. There was a kettle boiling and a pile of pancakes fresh from the girdle beside the hob. ‘You will take a wee strupak?’ Kirsty enquired, as she invited them to seat themselves on the bench while she poured two mugs of tea. She handed Dina a mug of milk.
‘Gee whizz, but isn’t this wonderful!’ Hugh Roberton enthused as he bit into a pancake. ‘Ma’ am, this is a wonderful island; we’ve had a wonderful day, and now this wonderful hospitality. A grand day, wouldn’t you say honey?’
‘Mmm. Super,’ Dina nodded vigorously; her mouth was full of pancake. ‘I’d say this is downright cosy, wouldn’t you Pop?’ She sipped the milk as she might have tasted nectar.
Her father voiced his hearty agreement while smilingly indicating that she should wipe the milky moustache from her mouth. Kirsty, mistrusting the fervour of their compliments, pushed the dish of pancakes towards them with a gesture of invitation and as they continued chatting and enjoying their strupak she busied herself with unimportant tasks about the kitchen while covertly observing them. Dina, she reckoned would be about eighteen to twenty years old and certainly she was a good-looking girl. Not ‘bonny’ as Euan Ally had implied, but slender with dainty hands and merry brown eyes and an abundance of fair to tawny hair which, though confined by a blue clasp, looked as if it might be impatient to be released into a riot of bouncy curls. Her smile-shaped mouth, her white teeth and her creamy skin enlivened by a mere sprinkle of freckles all combined to make her into a very attractive young woman. But, Kirsty wondered, since Euan Ally had so recently married Enac who was herself, in island terms, ‘a truly bonny lassie’ why had he seemed so impressed? Had his praise and fierce winking been intended to convey to her that Jamie had displayed some interest in the girl? She suspected it might be so. Indeed, she found herself hoping it was so. Jamie’s indifference to any girls in the vicinity had seemed to her natural enough in view of his sometimes fierce condemnation of their enforced piety and the shortcomings of his own religious upbringing, but she’d had no doubt of his eventually meeting some lassie who would appeal to him. She herself would not have envisaged Dina as a likely partner for him but, she reasoned, it would surely be good for him, even temporarily, to enjoy a taste of female company. She’d never allowed herself to think that he might become a shy, repressed old bachelor like his father and his uncle – a fate which seemed too often to overtake so many island men. Jamie was just too handsome; too agile; too full of the joys of life; too kindly and considerate to be passed over in such a way. He would one day make some lassie an enviable husband – of that she was quite certain.
‘Would I have your permission to smoke my pipe?’ Hugh Roberton’s request interrupted her musings. She assented willingly, continuing to observe him while he lit it. He would, she judged, be about the same height as herself but leaner, though his shoulders were broad in contrast. Beneath his tan his face showed a light fuzz, leading her to surmise that he had not bothered to shave since he’d arrived in Clachan. She guessed he was in his early forties though his crisp grey hair could have been deceptive. She wondered if, way back in Montreal, there was a wife waiting patiently for his return; whether there were other children; whether or not he was a widower.
Jamie appeared in the doorway. ‘I thought I might find you here,’ he announced.
Hugh Roberton twisted in his seat. ‘I hope we haven’t kept you waiting,’ he apologised. ‘The truth is that we’ve been enjoying your mother’s hospitality. Splendid pancakes and hot tea and creamy milk. We must have missed noti
cing it was getting towards dark.’
‘It’s not that just,’ Jamie told him. ‘But there’s a mist coming in over the hills and there’s a threat of a breeze blowing up. Not that it’ll be anything worth noticing on the sea but it might make it pretty wet and slippery landing on the rocks at Clachan seeing the tide is going back.’
‘So you want to start back right away?’
‘It’s for yourself to say,’ Jamie insisted. ‘I am ready to take you back when you are ready to go just.’
Wordlessly Dina listened to the exchange, her eyes fixed on Jamie.
‘Well honey what do you want to do? Do you want to chance the weather and risk getting wet feet or would you rather go back now?’ asked her father.
Dina’s eyes were still on Jamie as if awaiting his bidding. Satisfied with his barely perceptible nod of approval she said, ‘I think we should go back now.’
They gathered up their rucksacks, said their thank yous and asked quite eagerly if they could come again whenever they might be in Clachan.
Kirsty accompanied them down to the shore. It seemed natural that she and Hugh Roberton should walk together while Jamie and Dina followed behind, but Kirsty was surprised to see no sign of Euan Ally waiting down at the cove.
‘Ach no, he’s needing to stay with his uncle to give a hand with a job that’s to be done before the light goes,’ Jamie explained, dumping the two rucksacks into the dinghy before settling the father and daughter in the stem.
There were cordial farewells as Jamie rowed out to The Two Ruaris. Kirsty stood at the edge of the water and watched as the anchor came aboard and the boat set off across the rippled Sound.
Chapter Ten
By the end of May, summer was being ushered in by gentle southerly winds that smoothed the sea, encouraging it to reflect the blue skies. It brought an abundance of larks to fill the air with their exuberant outpourings of song, and while corncrakes rasped in the evenings, cuckoos seemed to be calling and gurgling from dawn to dusk. The scent of bluebells wafted across the island to mingle with the lingering smells of bog myrtle and bell-heather; the varying pinks of lousewort began to share the moorland with yellow tormentils, while hassocks of sturdy thrift bedizened the rocks and boulders that skirted the shore. On the Sound guillemots bobbed and divers, both red-throated and great northern, returned to prospect for fish and to call and renew their trysts with their chosen mates; rafts of eider duck exclaimed and gossiped their way around the bay, sounding for all the world like parties of scandal-mongering spinsters.
A Breath of Autumn Page 8
