Song of Rhanna (The Rhanna series)

by Christine Marion Fraser

  Ruth’s dimples showed. ‘You’ve convinced me, I’m delighted for you and pleased at myself for having got a whole lot off my chest. When is the wedding?’

  ‘The week after Easter. Mr James is going to marry us here in Rhanna and afterwards Totie and me are going away for a whole month together. I haveny had a holiday in years and neither has she, so we’re going off to Cornwall where Totie has a married brother.’

  He got up and went through to the larder to see what was to be had there for dinner, leaving Ruth gazing absently from the window, wondering how Lorn was enjoying his lonely dinner hour at the cottage. Looking down the brae she saw Lorn emerging from the shop with a parcel tucked under his arm. Her heart accelerated and she half-rose from her seat with the intention of going to the door to call on him. Then she decided no, she would be making the first move if she did and she wasn’t going to give in so lightly over the question of Rachel. She watched him walking back in the direction of the glen and as his tall figure was lost to sight she was unable to suppress a sigh.

  ‘Have you and Lorn fallen out?’ Her father’s voice at her elbow made her start. She regarded him silently for a few moments then she began to tell him about Rachel and Lorn’s reaction to the proposed visit.

  ‘Maybe Lorn has good reason for wanting to keep Rachel at arm’s length,’ Dugald said thoughtfully.

  ‘Oh, he has reason all right, but it isn’t good. He canny forgive her for that affair over Lewis and it’s high time he did.’

  ‘Ay, you’re right, Ruthie,’ conceded Dugald. ‘But just the same, I’ve never known Lorn yet to stand firm without a justifiable reason. It might be he has more on his mind than something that happened years ago. Rachel is a very tempestuous lass and maybe Lorn canny bear the idea of her coming into his home and disrupting the nice peaceful life you and he have together.’

  Ruth stared at him. ‘Disrupting our lives! Och, Father, that doesn’t sound like you at all – you sound more like Lorn saying daft things like that! How on earth could Rachel disrupt our lives? You make her sound like some sort of ogre. She’s only coming for a rest and will want all the peace and quiet she can get.’

  Dugald’s smile was apologetic. ‘Ay, you’re right, Ruthie, it was a daft thing to say and I canny think what brought it out. It’s just – well, she’s a strange lass is Rachel. Will any o’ us ever know what goes on behind those great black eyes o’ hers?’

  ‘I know well enough,’ cried Ruth in bewilderment. ‘Rachel always let me know what she was thinking.’

  ‘Mostly – ay,’ he tried to choose his words carefully. ‘But was she so frank when it came to her affair wi’ Lewis?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Ruth reluctantly. ‘She was pretty secretive about that – and about Jon too, now that you mention it . . .’ She frowned. ‘But what has all that got to do with her coming to stay with me?’

  ‘Ach, nothing at all, she is the sort o’ lass who likes to keep the affairs o’ her heart to herself but there’s a few people like that. You’re right, Ruthie, it has nothing at all to do wi’ any o’ this. Wait you, when you go home you and Lorn will make up your differences and I can safely guess he’ll be only too ready to let you have your way over Rachel.’

  Ruth lifted her head high in an unconscious gesture of assertion. ‘He’d better, Father, for I have already written a letter to Rachel inviting her to stay.’

  ‘So be it,’ said Dugald quietly but his words were lost in a noisy invasion of Isabel, Jim Jim and the children into the room.

  Ruth wasn’t in the kitchen when Lorn came home at teatime but the children surrounded him eagerly, Douglas to totter over and grab his leg, Lorna to throw her arms round his waist and breathlessly tell him that she had baked cakes that morning and he was to have some for his tea.

  Lorn reached inside his pocket and presented them each with a bag of sweets which they accepted eagerly though not without surprise on Lorna’s part, for as a rule it was forbidden to eat anything before a meal. Ruth came through from the larder. She looked pale and tired and kept her eyes averted from Lorn, her gaze going instead to the children sitting quietly on the rug in blissful concentration on the colourful assorted sweets Merry Mary had stuffed into the bags.

  ‘Lorn,’ began Ruth in annoyance, ‘you know fine the bairns are not allowed . . .’

  He covered the distance that separated them in two quick strides. ‘Leave them be, Ruthie, just this once.’ Somewhat sheepishly and brusquely he pushed an enormous box of chocolates into her hands. ‘Merry Mary had to hunt for these. She’s likely had them in the shop for ages so I hope to hell they areny fusty—’ He paused, remembering the beaming winks and smiles on Merry Mary’s happy, ruddy face as she wrapped the chocolates up, and the teasing and banter from Kate who was in the shop buying tobacco for Old Joe.

  ‘And what has Ruth done to deserve these?’ Kate had demanded in her usual boisterous way. ‘Has she maybe locked you out the bedroom, eh, my lad, and you’re huggin’ yourself wi’ excitement thinkin’ these will maybe unlock it for you?’ She had peered closer at his face. ‘By God! You’ll be telling us a cat did these! Well, well, she is no’ Morag Ruadh’s daughter for nothing and that’s a fact! I mind fine Morag doing the selfsame thing to Colin Watson when he tried to take down her breeks in a hayshed. That was a long time ago of course but some things never change, no indeed, men are all the same when they want something. They think they only have to give us one sniff o’ a sweetie and we will allow them to get a leg over as if nothing had ever happened. Fine I know it too for my Tam has done it often enough wi’ me only I was never as lucky as Ruth – oh no – the stupid bugger buys his way into my affections wi’ bars o’ toffee and I’m kept so busy pickin’ the damt stuff off my teeths I have no time to spare for him and his desires.’

  Merry Mary had choked into her hanky at this and Lorn had thrown back his head and roared with laughter for it was difficult to keep a straight face in Kate’s outrageous company. But he didn’t feel like laughing now, not with Ruth so close beside him, her fair face flushing to pink, her big violet eyes regarding him steadily. She saw the misery in his own eyes, mingling with a deep intense gleam of guilt that touched her heart and made it suddenly lighter. The sight of the red weals over the smooth tan of his cheek brought guilt flooding into her own heart and she had to hold herself on a tight rein in order to stop herself reaching out to him.

  ‘Ruthie, I’m sorry,’ his lilting voice was low. ‘You were right in what you said, I am a stubborn, buggering pig-headed McKenzie who deserves a good thrashing! Of course ask Rachel to come; you must get lonely here sometimes with only the bairns for company. It will do you good to have another female around. Rachel might no’ be able to speak but I know that’s never bothered you. Lorna will get a chance to get to know her godmother – she was only a babe in arms last time Rachel was here—’ He stopped suddenly, knowing he was saying too much, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that Rachel’s presence could bring nothing but good to them all. He wound his arms around Ruth and pulling her close kissed her so deeply she gave a soft cry of unwilling protest.

  ‘Lorn, the bairns,’ she warned, though there was a look on her face that Lorn knew well and never failed to excite him.

  ‘Forget the bairns.’ His voice was deep and intimate. ‘Why do you think I gave them sweeties before their tea – they won’t be getting any for a whily yet – you and me have something to settle first.’

  A dimple of mischief dispersed the weariness on Ruth’s face. ‘I knew you would give in once you had swallowed that thrawn pride of yours – that’s why I’ve already written to Rachel inviting her to stay – I left the letter on the mantelpiece thinking you would see it when you came in at dinner time.’

  ‘No, I didn’t see it, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice anything much.’ Lorn’s jaw had tensed. He said nothing more but his arms tightened instinctively round Ruth. Her soft hair tickled his face but he was barely aware of it. All at once his t
houghts were overwhelmed by Rachel. He thought of her power, her passion – and a small niggle of unease worried its way into his heart.

  Part Two

  Spring 1964

  Chapter Five

  Mollie McDonald pushed open the door of Kate’s cottage, letting in a blast of salt-laden sea breezes which stirred the muslin curtains at the deeply recessed windows and ruffled the petals of a jar of daffodils sitting on the ledge. Mollie wrinkled her nose as the heat of the cottage and its assorted smells enfolded her in an almost tangible embrace, the most prevalent of these owing itself to the row of kippers pegged on to a wire above the smoky peat fire which old Joe claimed gave the fish a delicious and distinctive flavour. The cloud of smoke from his pipe mingled with the pleasant smell of baking and the pungent reek of onions which Kate was cutting with vigour on a board at the table before sloshing them into a pan of mutton stock.

  Old Joe, who had come to live with Kate when he could no longer look after himself, was comfortably ensconced in a big easy chair close by the fire, a towel draped round his shoulders in readiness for his monthly haircut which was always presided over by the able Kate. The soup prepared and set on the fire to cook, Kate seized upon a large pair of kitchen shears and began to snip away industriously at the old man’s snowy locks.

  ‘It is yourself, Mollie,’ greeted Kate affably. ‘Come you in and sit yourself down. I will no’ be long wi’ the bodach. We are waiting for Rachel to come off the boat and then we will all have a nice strupak together. I made some nice wee scones this morning, they are Tam’s favourite though he doesny know I made them or there wouldny be a crumb left for anybody else.’

  Baking wasn’t one of Kate’s strong points and Mollie privately thought that Tam must have been born with an iron-clad stomach. She politely refrained from making comment however and took a chair opposite Old Joe. But the old man, annoyed at being referred to as a bodach, though he had reached the grand old age of a hundred and three, was more blunt about such matters.

  ‘Scones is what you call them,’ he sniggered wheezily, making a well-aimed spit in the fire. ‘I have found softer rocks on the beaches. I canny get my teeths into the damty things and am aye feart I break my jaw.’

  Kate hooted indignantly while Mollie permitted herself a strangled chuckle. ‘Maybe that is why I have heard Tam callin’ them rock cakes,’ she hazarded daringly.

  Old Joe’s shoulders shook, sending a cascade of jagged white hairs to the floor. ‘Ay, it is a good name for them right enough. I wish I had thought about it myself.’ Kate prodded the shears vigorously into the skin at his neck making him wince.

  ‘Weesht, you ungrateful old bugger!’ she scolded sternly. ‘Or I’ll slice the top o’ your head off wi’ these. My scones is all right, it’s your damty teeths that are all wrong. You must have had them since the year one and could be doing wi’ changin’ them.’

  ‘At my age there is no’ much point,’ Joe asserted fearlessly, adding thoughtfully, ‘Mind you, thon dentist mannie is due on the island this year. At least I will go to my rest lookin’ respectful.’

  Mollie had removed her headscarf and was self-consciously patting her hair, trying hard not to look as if there was anything new about her that day. Kate paused with the open shears dangerously close to one of Joe’s ears and treated her friend to an amazed scrutiny. ‘Your hair, Mollie McDonald, what have you done wi’ it? It’s purple!’

  Mollie blushed red and wondered whether to put her scarf back on. Kate’s tones were anything but complimentary and Mollie’s plump face set firmly so that she wouldn’t give her embarrassment away. ‘It wasny me, it was our Mairi,’ she explained defensively.

  ‘Ach yes, of course, this is the opening day o’ her hair shop,’ nodded Kate. ‘If I mind right she had a notice up sayin’ she was givin’ hairdos at half price the first day. I didny rush wi’ the rest, for I like to think I am one o’ these who will no’ get something done that isn’t needin’ just for the sake o’ gettin’ it cheap.’

  Mollie grew redder still and said tightly, ‘Well, Kate, that is a matter of opinion. A blind man could see that you are the sort o’ woman who has just taken shears to your hair all your days – just like the sheeps.’

  Kate looked at her friend’s indignant face framed in its elegant coiffure, and burst out laughing. ‘Ach, Mollie, your hair is lovely just! Mairi has made a fine job o’ it. It’s all the thing now that purple dye and makes a nice change from salt and pepper.’

  ‘It is not a dye, it is a rinse,’ Mollie corrected with dignity and with a slight sniff of disdain.

  Kate nodded cheerfully. ‘It’s the same thing wi’ a fancy name, but I wasny criticizing, in fact, now that I see how good Mairi is I’ll make that mean bugger Tam treat me to a hairdo for Doug and Totie’s wedding.’ She blew over Joe’s neck vigorously and whipping the towel away handed him a mirror. ‘There now, isn’t that a lovely job just? I’ve a good mind to start chargin’ you for my services. If Mairi can do it so can I.’

  Old Joe peered at his shorn locks and gave an ungrateful snort. ‘Would you look at me, woman! I am as baldy as the erse o’ a moultin’ hen! A man o’ my age needs all the hair he can get to keep his lugs warm.’

  ‘Havers,’ laughed Kate unconcernedly. ‘You’re an ungrateful bodach and next time you can just get along to Mairi’s wi’ your damt hair and let her put curls over your ears – see how you like that forbye havin’ to pay a mint to get it crimped all fancy like.’

  The two women erupted into gales of merriment and the old man, thoroughly disgruntled, got up muttering and stomped away outside to smoke his pipe, his rheumatism temporarily forgotten in his haste to escape further ridicule.

  Left to their own devices, the two women set about an eager exchange of gossip, triggered off by Mollie who had just come from the Post Office, an establishment now run by Totie Little, who had for years been Postmistress at Portvoynachan, but who had managed to get transferred to Portcull in order to be nearer Dugald.

  ‘You will never guess who was there behind the counter wi’ Totie, tellin’ her what to do as if she was a simple bairn,’ began Mollie energetically.

  Kate’s lips folded grimly. ‘It doesny need much brains to know who you are talking about. It will have been Behag, I haveny a doubt.’

  ‘As large as life and twice as vindictive,’ agreed Mollie, shaking her head. ‘As you know yourself Totie has had years of experience behind a Post Office counter and doesn’t need anybody to tell her what to do.’

  ‘She will have put Behag in her place,’ said Kate with conviction. ‘Totie was never a body to take snash from any livin’ cratur’ far less old Behag.’

  ‘Indeed you are right,’ nodded Mollie eagerly, her eyes gleaming at the memory of Totie and Behag warring at each other. ‘She went for Behag hammer and tongs and the old bitch gave as good as she got though in the end she stalked away wi’ her nose in the air muttering something about the ingratitude of some folk.’

  Kate filled the teapot and set it to keep warm on the range. ‘Wait you, we will all be gettin’ a taste o’ Behag before very long. She has lain low since her retirement but knowing her she will no’ be likin’ being away from the centre o’ the village gossip. It used to go to her but now she will have to go lookin’ for it and will soon be puttin’ her nose into everybody’s affairs. She’ll be hauntin’ Mairi’s place, mark my words. A hair shop is just the place to hear all that’s goin’ on. I can just imagine her sittin’ under the dryer, thon big lugs o’ hers cocked as high as a dog liftin’ its leg to pee.’

  ‘Ach, she’ll no’ go spendin’ her money at Mairi’s, and from what I have seen o’ her hair sproutin’ from under her headscarf there is precious little there for curling.’

  ‘As much as would cover a gull’s egg,’ sniggered Kate wickedly. ‘But she’ll go along to Mairi’s just the same for if I’m mindin’ right the good kind sowel is lettin’ anybody over the age o’ sixty-five have their hair done at half price.’

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p; ‘Well, that will no’ be me for a whily,’ averred Mollie hastily and set about busying herself helping Kate to lay out cups and saucers. ‘I was hearin’ a wee thing myself while I was at Mairi’s.’ She threw out the hint cryptically making Kate pause with a saucer suspended in mid-air.

  ‘Oh, and what would that be – or are you no’ in the mood for telling?’ Kate’s knowing tones were dry for Mollie was renowned for her enjoyment of suspense, particularly when she was the one to dangle the carrot. It gave her a great deal of satisfaction to be first with some juicy item of gossip, as it was mostly Kate who brought first hand pieces of information.

  ‘Well, I don’t know if I should.’ Mollie’s face had taken on a familiar closed look and she wore the air of someone who rarely divulged the ‘secrets’ passed on to her from someone who had already heard them from another. ‘It was Elspeth who let it out and she was whispering as if she didny want to be heard even though your Nancy was on the other side of me.’

  ‘Ach well, I will get it from her,’ rejoined Kate rather huffily. ‘She will be along in a wee while to see Rachel when she comes.’