Return To Rhanna

by Christine Marion Fraser

  ‘Ay, wantin’ things that Ranald canny give her,’ smirked Tam.

  Barra walked past just then, a plump, pink-skinned little woman with a mop of curly grey hair and an air about her of someone who was never quite sure of herself. She smiled shyly at the throng surrounding Lorn’s tractor, and Tam grinned back, his polite ‘Good day to you, Barra’ making Shona shake her head and say, ‘You two-faced bodach, Tam McKinnon, as well as that you’re two-tongued, one coated with silver and the other like a piece of barbed wire straight off my father’s fence. You should be ashamed of yourself. Barra’s a nice wee soul and from what I hear she and Ranald have worked hard to make their shop a success.’

  But Tam’s grin was unrepentant. ‘It’s no’ Barra, she is a nice body and I wouldny mind gettin’ my hands on some o’ they things that Jim Jim was able to describe so well. No – it’s that Ranald who needs to come off his pedestal and when he finds out about his fart studio he might come down to earth wi’ a good big bang.’

  Niall threw the suitcases into the tractor. ‘Don’t be surprised if he takes you with him,’ he warned. ‘Ranald is slow to rouse but has quite a temper when he gets riled.’

  Lorn climbed into the tractor and started it up. It had been the only mode of transport available but not an unusual one on an island that made use of a variety of vehicles. ‘You had better get going,’ he shouted above the engine. ‘Mother’s making a special dinner and she’ll be mad if you keep her waiting. I’ll take the cases on up to your house but I’ll be home in a few minutes.’

  He lumbered noisily away, leaving the others to follow in his wake. Ellie was in a jubilant mood and taking Niall’s hand swung it back and forth like a pendulum. She was full of enthusiasm for coming to live on Rhanna and in her child’s way had given him a lot of encouragement in his new venture. Already she had christened him ‘the sailing vet’ and she was presently employed in knitting him thick woolly socks together with a bright red woolly cap ‘to keep his brains from freezing up’. Whenever she had a moment to spare out came her knitting needles and she clicked away laboriously, her tongue sticking out in concentration while seemingly endless inches of badly woven yarn sprouted from her needles. Anything she tackled of a domestic nature had to be attributed to necessity as, other than cooking and baking, her interests lay in outdoor pursuits. Now thirteen years old she was tall and leggy with expressive golden-brown eyes and a ready smile. She was at the gangling awkward stage and moved Shona to despair because nothing she wore would sit on her properly. But she had the makings of a beauty and Niall had reminded his wife that at Ellie’s age she had been an impossibly skinny bundle and she had laughed at his vivid descriptions of her teenage years.

  The fields were dotted with snowy white lambs. Among them strode Bob with his two sheepdogs and Matthew’s son, Donald, a strapping young man who was a born shepherd and whom Bob trusted as he trusted no other when it came to handling sheep. He had taken over the training of the sheepdogs and every summer at the sheepdog trials held in one of Laigmhor’s fields, he took the dogs through their paces and had earned quite a reputation for gaining top placings at almost every event.

  Fergus was coming off the hill some distance away and Shona ran to meet him, throwing her arms round his neck and smothering him with affection. ‘Hey, let me breathe,’ he protested laughingly. He held her at arm’s length and nodded his approval. ‘Just like old times, eh my bonny lass? All of us together again.’

  ‘Ay, Father, just like old times,’ she said quietly and tucked her arm through his. He smelt of grass and sweat and of the sharp clean air of the hill. It was his morning smell and she knew it would soon be replaced by the perfume of soap mingling with the warmth of damp hair crisping to dryness in the heat of the kitchen.

  Ellie dashed up to throw her arm round his waist and he kissed the top of her silky head as they made their way over the grassy lane to the cobbled yard. Lorn came in at their back and bringing the tractor to a halt he jumped down and joined them as they crowded into the kitchen which at first glance seemed to be full of people.

  ‘What on earth?’ grinned Niall at sight of his father ensconced in the inglenook drinking whisky and his mother in the rocking chair by the window feeding a tiny newborn lamb from an enormous feeding bottle. She had tucked a baby’s bib round its neck to catch the milky drips running from its lips and every so often she propped it up and rubbed its back to help it to break wind. She was rather flushed looking and her son looked at her suspiciously but she only raised a languid hand and apologized for not getting up to greet him properly.

  ‘We’re having a celebration dinner,’ explained Fergus. ‘To welcome you young McLachlans back to Rhanna and to celebrate the arrival of Lorna Morag.’

  ‘What a bonny name,’ murmured Shona, accepting the glass of whisky offered by Lachlan. ‘Who chose it?’

  Lorn turned from the sink where he and Fergus were vying for a place to wash. ‘I chose Morag, and Ruth decided on Lorna.’

  Niall looked rather surprised. ‘I should have thought you wouldn’t want to be reminded of that caillich.’

  ‘I don’t.’ Lorn’s answer was frank. ‘I just happen to like the name, that’s all and anyway, there’s no’ a sign of Morag in the bairn – she’s – she’s like Ruthie and she was never her mother’s daughter – she aye had the look of Dugald about her.’

  Lachlan, his thin face unusually pink, pressed a drink into his son’s hand. ‘Come on, drink up, we’re celebrating two new beginnings, yours and the bairnie’s. There’s more where that came from.’

  Niall realized that everyone was acting in a manner out of keeping with normal dinner-time behaviour. Kirsteen was giggling as she basted a sizzling turkey and Phebie, having tucked the satiated lamb into a dog basket, was now in the procedure of setting the table. She had begun by carefully setting down the cutlery only to discover that the dessertspoons were in the wrong order and from there her judgement went from bad to the ridiculous. Suddenly, in a mood of total abandonment she gave a wild whoop, cried, ‘Oh, to hell with it!’ and began tossing forks across the table to land where they would.

  ‘Mother! You’re drunk!’ Niall accused, then in a spurt of amusement, ‘I doubt you’re even steady enough for me to chase you round the table.’

  Phebie raised her brows in horror. ‘Don’t you dare, my lad! Forbye being much too auld for your nonsense I’m far too busy.’

  Niall advanced and everyone laughed at the look of dismay on Phebie’s rosy face. But instead of chasing her round the table as was his habit, he put his arms round her in a bear hug and lifted her several inches off the floor.

  ‘What an example to set your only son,’ he scolded her in mock reproach. ‘Here I am, about to take up house just along the road from my stable old family home and what do I find? A decidedly pie-eyed mother and a father who’s obviously the worse for drink. Neither of you are fit to be seen by your granddaughter.’

  A delighted Ellie shrieked with joy. She was never happier than when she was with her grandparents. Lachlan unashamedly spoiled her and Fergus indulged her to such an extent Shona had felt moved to protest and he had said slightly shame-faced, ‘Ach, Shona, I know I shouldny maybe spoil her the way I do but there’s no’ many lassies in the family for me to spoil.’ His dark eyes had held hers for a long moment and he had shaken his head. ‘I missed the chance to indulge my own lassie and I’ve regretted it a million times, so don’t deny me the opportunity to make it up to my granddaughter. Maybe I’m getting old or a wee bit wiser but I’ve come to see that to show love isn’t a sign of weakness – the very opposite in fact.’

  Phebie had flopped down once more in the rocking chair to fan her hot face with a corner of the tablecloth. ‘All we need now are Grant and Fiona to complete the picture. It’s a whily since they showed their faces.’

  Kirsteen glanced rather dazedly at the potatoes boiling merrily on the range. ‘I don’t know if there would be enough to go round,’ she said doubtfully and wondered why
Fergus let out a shout of laughter as he grabbed her round the waist and kissed the little spots of red high on her cheekbones. ‘You’ve had one too many, my girl,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘I’m going to make you a cup of strong hot coffee.’

  Ellie had inveigled Lachlan into the inglenook and they were soon engrossed in a murmured conversation. Everyone else was full of good intentions but in the process of peeping into pots and into the oven where the turkey had been incarcerated for the final golden brown crisping, only succeeded in getting in the way.

  When Bob appeared at the door, followed by Sheil and Ben and half a dozen beady-eyed chickens Kirsteen banged her cup onto its saucer and raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘Right, everyone,’ she cried, ‘out of my kitchen at once – no, I didn’t mean you, Bob,’ she hastened to add as the old man tossed a reproachful glance in her direction. ‘You stay and have your wash and your usual smoke in the inglenook but everyone else – out! Fergus, you take the men into the parlour and Shona, you take Phebie upstairs to see Ruth and the bairn.’

  Phebie curled herself further into her chair and smiled sleepily. ‘Och, Kirsteen, show some consideration for an auld wifie. I doubt I’d collapse halfway up and besides, I’ve been to see Ruth twice since I arrived.’

  Kirsteen’s blue eyes twinkled indulgently. ‘Ach, right enough now, we’re forgetting your advanced years. I suppose we’ll have to make allowances for the elderly in our midst.’

  Shona picked a piece of meat from the turkey now cooling on the table and nibbled it. ‘I’ll go up on my own. I meant to as soon as I came in but got sidetracked by my mad kinfolk.’

  Niall glanced at her, a furrow on his brow. ‘I thought you would have made it your business to see the bairn the minute you got home. You’ve talked about it often enough over the last few days.’

  ‘Oh, don’t fuss!’ she answered sharply. ‘I can’t do everything at once and Kirsteen needed help with the turkey.’

  Kirsteen didn’t say anything. She had sensed Shona’s hesitancy the moment she came through the door. Over the years Kirsteen had come to know her well and very often could anticipate her moods. Her zest for life was boundless, her enthusiasms infectious and often exhausting. She rarely shied away from anything new and Kirsteen knew that she had her reasons for holding back now.

  ‘I’ll go up with you, Mother,’ Ellie offered, jumping to her feet with alacrity. ‘I’ve already been up twice. Wee Lorna is such a bonny baby I could look at her all day.’ She hummed a catchy little tune as they went into the hall. She was a child who was always singing and very often Shona joined in, even though she might be in another room at the time, but today a sharp rebuke rose to her lips and Ellie stopped singing at once.

  Shona stole a glance at her crestfallen daughter and saw that her proud little chin was trembling, the way it had done when she was a chubby infant and Shona had delighted in putting the tip of her pinky into the cheeky round dimple. Everything about Ellie was golden that day, her skin was the colour of rich honey, threads of gold shone in hair the shade of an autumn beech leaf, but it was her eyes which Shona loved most. They were big, expressive golden-brown orbs with a look of soft velvet to them. Occasionally they sparked fire but mostly they were meltingly gentle. Just now they were shiny with hurt and Shona was immediately sorry for her harsh words.

  ‘Oh, Ellie, I’m a bitch of a mother to you sometimes but I don’t mean to be. You’re so young and uncomplicated and you have a right to sing today of all days. We’ve just come home and there’s so much to be happy about. C’mon, I’ll sing with you and if we waken the baby it’s just too bad.’

  They marched arm in arm up the stairs, carolling away merrily, yet they were able to surprise Ruth and Lorn who had hidden themselves in a little recess on the landing and, oblivious to everything, were locked tightly in each other’s arms.

  ‘Uncle Lorn!’ said Ellie, shocked. ‘You aren’t supposed to do these things in public!’

  Lorn, still young and inexperienced enough to be easily embarrassed, flushed and said rather snappishly, ‘It wasn’t public till you arrived on the scene.’

  Ellie nodded in unperturbed agreement. ‘You’re right, I’m always doing it to people. I did it to Father and Mother on the boat earlier on when they were down in the saloon kissing and snuggling like mad.’

  Lorn’s spurt of ill temper disappeared like a puff of wind. ‘Really?’ he grinned. He put his arm protectively round Ruth’s waist and lowered his dark head to kiss her on the mouth. ‘If the McLachlans can do it then so can the McKenzies. We might have a public contest sometime but right now I’m clearing off. When a few women get together and start talking baby talk it’s no place for a man.’

  Ruth’s face showed her pleasure at seeing Shona. She had lost her look of fragility and was rosy and sparkling. The few months she had been married to Lorn had been the happiest of her life and she had fitted well into the McKenzie household. It seemed that the dark, unhappy years she had spent in the temple belonged to another life. Only when she went home to visit did all the reality come back like a bad dream. Morag was living a semi-real existence, sometimes frighteningly like the Morag of old, at others like a child who had lost the way and didn’t know how to get back again. During these times Ruth glimpsed something in her mother that was almost beautiful. She was trusting, gentle, and affectionate and Ruth was finding a love for the lost lonely creature that she had never had before. She mourned for what might have been, pined to have had a mother that she could always have loved instead of one who had shunned all that was tender and good.

  As Morag’s mental condition gradually deteriorated, so too did the layers of self-deception she had built up round herself and the raw emotions of a woman who had craved human contact became exposed at last. Dugald had grown increasingly exhausted, yet his devotion to his wife never faltered and people nodded their heads sadly and told each other, ‘He is a good man is Doug, it is just a pity Morag Ruadh was always too blind to see it.’

  Often she would rise in the middle of the night to spin, the steady thump of the treadle echoing eerily through the house. Once she had packed a suitcase and had wandered down to the harbour in her nightgown to board the steamer. Dugald had been so tired he hadn’t been aware of anything unusual till a knocking at the door roused him and he had gone to find Morag hanging trustingly onto the hand of a young galley boy.

  On several occasions Dodie had been frightened out of his wits by a ghostly apparition floating among the gravestones in the Hillock Kirkyard and he had heard a thin voice wailing out a shaky rendering of ‘Nearer My God To Thee’. In terror he had blabbed out to everyone that a ghaistie was haunting the cemetery and though the villagers scoffed at him they took good care to give the Hillock a wide berth after nightfall.

  Lachlan had quietly suggested to Dugald that he could arrange to have Morag looked after in a nursing home but he had rejected this and with the help of Isabel and Jim Jim continued to nurse his wife. He had been overjoyed at the birth of his grandchild but when he broke the news to Morag she looked at him oddly and had gone upstairs without a word. Later he found her sitting by the cot that had rocked Ruth and she was talking softly as if to a baby. That was when a new deception began in her life. She spoke about Ruth as if she was still the babe of nineteen years ago and spent hours sitting by the cot, crooning lullabyes. Dugald hadn’t told Ruth about this latest development, unwilling to rob her of her newfound joy, but she had discovered it for herself and when Morag said to her, ‘Ruth, it’s long past your bedtime, you will never grow to be a big strong lassie if you don’t get enough sleep,’ Ruth knew that for her mother, there would be no road back to sanity.

  But today she was too full of happiness to let her innermost thoughts get the better of her and as she led the way into the bedroom she couldn’t suppress a dance of pure joy.

  Shona eyed with approval the soft blue wool dress she was wearing. ‘You’re up and dressed, Ruth. Lachlan will give you a spanking if h
e catches you.’

  ‘Och, I’m sick of bed,’ said Ruth, going to the mirror to brush her hair. ‘I heard you all laughing downstairs and decided to get up for dinner – to tell the truth – I got up yesterday too and sneaked over to see my mother. Kirsteen almost had a fit but promised not to say anything.’

  ‘Mother, come and look at the baby,’ said Ellie impatiently. ‘She’s lovely.’

  Shona went slowly over to the family cradle that had rocked so many McKenzie children. Lorna Morag was awake, her wondering blue gaze directed at the ceiling which was pale blue and matched the wardrobe and chest of drawers which Lorn and Lewis had used during all the years they shared the room. The only differences now were the double bed and the feminine touches added by Ruth. Shona found herself feeling relieved that no one had thought to use the room that she always thought of as hers. Privately she had christened it the ‘golden room’ as everything it contained was in shades ranging from bronze to yellow and from childhood had reminded her of sunlight even on the dullest days.

  Shona gazed at the baby, aware that she couldn’t possibly see anything clearly as yet, but so frank and assessive were the big round eyes she had the strangest feeling that she was being studied. Lorna was one of the most beautiful babies that Shona had ever seen with honey-gold hair and skin unusually smooth in a newborn infant. The notion struck her that she had seen the child somewhere before and then she realized that she was the image of Ellie as an infant. Almost unwillingly she reached out to stroke the soft hair; a tiny finger came up to curl round her thumb and her heart was captured.

  ‘Isn’t she bonny, Mother?’ Ellie’s voice seemed to come from a long way off. Unwillingly Shona struggled out of her trance and was taken aback by the arrival of Babbie into the room, her freckled face glowing from a brisk walk up from the village. She had grown plumper of late and put it down to too little exercise so today she had left her car behind and had made her rounds on foot, determined to be as fit as Biddy had been from a lifetime walking the hills and glens.