The Tender Glory

by Jean S. MacLeod

  “It’s taking us longer than I thought,” he commented, glancing at his watch. “I hope you’re going to get back in reasonable time.”

  “Jim’s very capable,” she assured him, “and it doesn’t look as if we’re going to have any more snow.”

  At Hempriggs the loch was alive with skaters, small black dots scurrying about like ants on the bearing ice. It was intensely cold and their voices rang out in the clear air, young and carefree, turning the winter landscape into a vast, happy playground.

  Huntley drove her straight to the hospital, where Jim was waiting with the hired car.

  “You’ve taken your time,” he observed ungraciously, glaring at Huntley. “Were the roads bad?”

  “Bad enough,” Huntley answered. “You’ll have to watch how you go south of Lybster. The snow-plough’s been out, but it’s one-way traffic in places.”

  “We’ll manage,” Jim assured him. “Thanks for your help,” he added, putting a protective arm about Alison’s shoulders.

  Huntley nodded as he got back into his car.

  “Safe journey,” he wished them. “Give your mother my regards, Alison.”

  Tears stung Alison’s eyes. Jim had been so rude. “Mother must be waiting,” she said. “Shall we go in?”

  “Just a minute!” Jim held her arm. “Does Huntley Daviot mean anything to you, Alison?”

  “You know he’s going to marry Tessa,” she said, her voice choked. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

  “It matters to me.” He still held her. “You’ll have to stay at Craigie Hill till your mother can take over, but you can’t live your life like this for ever. You’ll marry one day, and I want you to marry me. Think about it, Alison. You can’t go back to London while your mother’s up here alone. I know you too well to imagine you would. We could bring her to Wick.”

  “And sell Craigie Hill?” She shook her head. “No, Jim, that’s what this is all about. She loves Craigie Hill. She wants to keep it for her son.”

  “Robin won’t come back,” he said flatly. “He’d be too ashamed.”

  Helen was waiting for them when they reached the ward. Flushed and over-excited, she sat in the bedside chair muffled in her old tweed coat, her eyes searching their faces as they went in.

  “Nothing’s happened,” Alison assured her quickly. “The roads are bad that’s all. We took longer to get through than we thought.”

  A nurse brought in some tea and they drank it standing up. Jim was anxious to start.

  “We’d better get a move on,” he said, “if we want to beat the dark.”

  He took the journey cautiously. There was black ice in places, but he was an experienced driver and the car was comfortable and warm.

  “All the same,” Helen smiled, “I wouldn’t like to be stranded in weather like this.”

  Alison could feel her suppressed excitement, the eagerness in her return home. It was almost Christmas and Craigie Hill was where she belonged. Each mile they covered was taking her nearer to her heart’s desire.

  “You’ll stay the night with us, Jim,” she invited. “Kirsty will fix you up with a bed. It’s a long way back to Wick.”

  “I may do that,” he said, glancing at Alison.

  When they turned off the main road it was growing dark, but a magnificent sunset had flushed the whole headland with living fire. The tall chimneys of Calders rose sharply against it and Sterne stood out, pencil-slim, above the sea. The breathtaking beauty of the familiar scene gripped Alison by the throat. How could she ever leave it? All her love was here; all the happiness she had ever dreamed about.

  They took the hill road to the farm. It was rutted deeply in snow, with fresh tyre marks going off the track in places.

  “Someone’s been to see us,” Helen said, her eyes going eagerly to the house.

  Craigie Hill looked quiet and secure, standing darkly against the snow. Kirsty had put a lamp in the sitting- room window and it shone out clearly into the surrounding dusk.

  Alison kept her eyes on the window, and it was some minutes before she saw the tall figure standing at the gable end of the house, waiting.

  As the car turned in at the open gate the man came slowly towards them and her heart surged up to hammer close against her throat.

  “Robin!”

  Robin, older, thinner in the face, more mature, held out his hands to his mother. He didn’t seem to be in any doubt about his welcome.

  “We’ve come home—together,” Helen said. Watching her closely, Alison wondered how she had sustained the shock after so long and tiring a journey, but perhaps she had always known that her son would return one day. She had prayed for his return, she had willed it, deep in the secret places of her heart, and now that it was an accomplished fact she was not unduly surprised.

  The bewilderment and relief were Alison’s. Nothing else could have made their homecoming so complete. Robin’s eyes met hers in a hesitant smile.

  “I should have warned you beforehand,” he said, “but—well, I didn’t know whether I was going to have the courage to come or not. I’ve wanted to come for a long time, and when I got your letter—well, it seemed as if I might be welcome, after all.”

  They were standing in the entrance to the yard while the others were still seated in the car. Alison searched his face for a full minute before she said:

  “You should have come long ago, but now that you are here it doesn’t matter. Craigie Hill needs you, Robin. I could never have managed on my own.”

  He kissed her then, lightly and warmly on the cheek. “Shouldn’t we get Mother inside?”

  “Yes, of course! She’s weathered the journey so well.” Alison found it difficult to think clearly and there was so much to think about. But not now, she decided. This was her mother’s shining hour. All the tender glory of love and fulfilment lay in Helen’s eyes as she put her hand in Robin’s. He helped her out and they walked to the house together.

  “I won’t stay,” Jim said.

  “Why not? Robin’s sure to want a word with you,” Alison said.

  “We’ve had our word.” Jim looked faintly self-righteous. “I wrote and told him you wanted him to come home.”

  “When?”

  “After you had given me his address. About three weeks ago.” “Why, Jim?”

  “Because I felt he would never come unless he was asked directly. A hint wouldn’t do. Either you or Tessa would have to ask. Even then,” he admitted, “I wasn’t absolutely sure. He was always a proud devil and I suppose he suffered from an outsize guilt complex after your father died.”

  “Maybe he hadn’t enough money to come then,” Alison suggested. “He had crossed into Canada by that time, but maybe it wasn’t so easy to find work there, after all.”

  “He found a job, but not the one he wanted,” Jim mused. “He’ll be content now at Craigie Hill.”

  Contentment. Was that what really mattered? Not love and ambition and pride. Alison walked ahead of him into the house, where Kirsty had set the table for ‘high tea’ in front of the sitting-room fire. She had been baking all morning, by the looks of things, and the table groaned with her efforts. The big white cloth was the one kept for ‘high days and holidays’, as she put it, and had certainly done them proud. Cold chicken and home-cured ham took pride of place among bannocks and three kinds of scones, and the ‘tester’ for the Christmas cake had been cut and approved. It adorned the centre of the table in a crystal dish, surrounded by pickles and red cabbage and chutney to go with the chicken. All home-made.

  The firelight flickered across the table, picking out the happiness in everybody’s eyes.

  “It’s like old times,” Kirsty said as the two men stood together in front of the fire. “Nobody can get a look in at the peats! Be off with you and let your mother warm her feet!”

  They laughed a lot during the meal, although once or twice Alison surprised a look in her brother’s eyes which was difficult to explain. He had been welcomed without reserve, yet he still seeme
d uncertain about the future.

  When Jim rose to go he walked to the door with him.

  “You’re sure you won’t stay the night, Jim?” Helen asked, trying to hide her sudden fatigue.

  “Quite sure.” He looked in Alison’s direction. “But I’ll see you again before Christmas. We might have a night at the skating if the ice still holds.”

  Everything seemed to be fitting into place. They were getting back to normal so quickly that the past two years might have been no more than a prolonged bad dream.

  “And now, bed for you!” Alison helped her mother to her feet. “You’ve had a long, exciting day.”

  “A wonderful day,” Helen said quietly. “One of the happiest days of my life. I am tired.” she admitted. “Who wouldn’t be? But I’ll sleep without rocking tonight!”

  Alison heard Jim’s car drive away and Robin’s foot on the flags as he re-crossed the yard. Everything seemed right and settled for Craigie Hill.

  When she returned to the sitting-room her brother was standing in his accustomed place with his back to the fire.

  “Sorry!” he apologised. “It’s so easy to slip back into the old habits. Come and get warm.”

  She sat down facing him across the hearth. For a long time neither of them spoke.

  “Will you go back to London?” he asked eventually.

  Alison roused herself.

  “One day. Perhaps in the spring.”

  “What about your scholarship?”

  “It will be renewed whenever I can take it up again.”

  “And that could be in the spring?”

  “It will depend on you, Robin.”

  He looked at her steadily.

  “I haven’t been so very dependable in the past,” he said.

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “But you must have thought it.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He drew a deep breath.

  “I’ve been a fool. A senseless fool!”

  “It’s over now.”

  “It should never have begun.”

  “We don’t acknowledge these things at the time.”

  “No. I should have known Leone would never have married me.” His voice was suddenly harsh. “I took a mad chance and it didn’t come off. I followed Leone to New York because I believed we were in love and then she let me see, only too plainly, what it really was. She had been playing with me because she was so bored. Love and admiration and excitement were essential to Leone. They were the breath of life she couldn’t do without, yet over and above all that there was her career. It came first. It always had done. When she went to New York she wasn’t sure of a comeback, but she had this chance and she snatched it with both hands—greedily.”

  “But she was engaged to Huntley,” Alison protested.

  Robin shook his head.

  “Not any more. Her career meant far more to her even than Calders. I don’t know how Daviot felt about it, but she told him she couldn’t marry him.”

  “She spoiled his life,” Alison said bitterly.

  “I should have known then, of course.” Robin started to pace up and down the room. “What had I to offer her when Huntley Daviot and Calders wasn’t enough? I had a cast-iron ego in

  those days, apparently. My conceit must have been phenomenal.”

  “You were in love with her.”

  “I thought I was in love with her. She was furious when I followed her to New York.”

  She looked at his broad back.

  “Robin, what about Tessa?” she asked.

  “What right have I to expect Tessa to want me now?” he demanded, keeping his back turned. “I served her one of the dirtiest tricks imaginable.”

  “Sometimes that doesn’t matter.”

  “It would with Tessa.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s proud and brittle. I hurt her beyond all forgiving. I could never ask her to come back to me. Besides, I hear she’s going to marry Daviot.”

  It was Alison’s turn to keep her eyes hidden.

  “What a tangle!” he exclaimed, coming back to the fire. “Will it work out?”

  She jumped to her feet.

  “I don’t know,” she cried. “You can’t expect me to find an answer to everything.”

  “Steady on!” He was looking at her keenly. “How long have you been here, Alison?”

  “Two months. A little more than two months.”

  “Time enough to fall in love with Daviot?” he suggested shrewdly.

  She turned to the door.

  “Don’t make things—more difficult than they are,” she implored huskily. “I’m off to help Kirsty wash up.” He was still standing by the fire when she returned, gazing into the heart of the smouldering peats.

  “A year,” he said. “What a difference it can make!”

  “All the difference in the world,” Alison agreed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  KIRSTY was scouring the milk pans in the dairy.

  “There was a wee Cooper wha lived in Fife,” she sang, Nickety, nackety noo, noo, noo.

  And he had gotten a gentle wife

  Hey Willie Wallacky, how John Dougal,

  Alane, quo Rushity roo, roo, roo ...”

  “Kirsty,” a voice said behind her, “is Alison in?” The song came to an abrupt end and the old woman wheeled round with a burnished pan in her hand.

  “Och, michty-me, Miss Searle,” she exclaimed. “You fair frightened the life oot o’ me! Aye, she’s in. She didn’t have to tak’ the milk round this morning so she’s had time to look tae her mother.”

  “How is Mrs. Christie?” Tessa asked.

  “Fine, now that all the excitement’s over,” Kirsty declared. “But away ye go in an’ see for yourself. She’ll be glad of a visitor for the next week or two when she has to stay in her bed till eleven in the mornin’.”

  Tessa turned towards the house.

  “Rap hard on the door,” Kirsty advised. “The wireless will be on full blast!”

  But Alison had opened the door before Tessa had time to knock.

  “I came to ask about your mother,” Tessa said. “We wondered how she travelled yesterday.”

  “You—walked up here?”

  Tessa shook her head.

  “Huntley brought me. He’s gone on down the glen.” Alison opened the door wider. She would have to invite Tessa in. Her heart began to pound. Robin had just returned with the jeep. He had delivered the milk, but obviously Tessa hadn’t seen him.

  Just as she was about to speak he came across the yard. She saw him over Tessa’s shoulder as he walked slowly and deliberately towards them.

  Tessa turned.

  “Robin?” she gasped. “You—!”

  She backed towards the wall, her hands clenched by her sides, but all her love was mirrored in her eyes for him to see.

  Alison turned into the kitchen, not knowing how this would end.

  She heard Tessa say: “Why have you come back?” but she had closed the kitchen door before Robin answered.

  It seemed a long time till there was any sound outside and

  then she saw Tessa’s red, fur-trimmed hood and blue anorak passing the window. She had gone away, alone.

  A few minutes later Robin called across the yard to Neil, his voice high-pitched and demanding.

  “What have you done about the sheep? You’ll have to jump to it, Nellie! We’ve got work to do.”

  Not the voice of a man whose world had been finally shattered, she thought.

  When he came in for the eleven o’clock break she asked him point-blank what had happened.

  “I let her get some of the gall out of her system,” he said. “Tessa told me exactly what she thought of me.”

  “And then?”

  “I said I would go to the Lodge.”

  “But—Huntley?”

  “She’s not in love with Huntley. She never was.”

  “Then why did she promise to marry him?”

  “Sh
e was afraid. Anyway, that’s my guess.”

  “Afraid?”

  “Yes. She couldn’t see the future all that clearly. She saw security at Calders, but she wasn’t in a great hurry to grab it.”

  “In case you came back?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Alison flushed.

  “How conceited can you get?”

  “Sorry, but I think it’s as near the truth as anything.”

  “How could anybody be so selfish?”

  “We all could if we saw our world in ruins at our feet.” He lit a cigarette, his hands not quite steady as he nursed the flame. “We’d snatch at the nearest compensation. For Tessa, it was Huntley Daviot and the security of Calders. He had been served a dirty deal, too, remember.”

  “I don’t think he proposed to Tessa for that reason.”

  “I dare say not, but Tessa didn’t take time to argue these things out. She acted on impulse—or on instinct, if you like.

  She needed protection and Huntley offered it.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “Partly because of the accident—because he blamed himself—and partly because he knew about Leone, I should say.”

  “He loved her. Perhaps he still does, in spite of everything.”

  “I think not.” Robin’s mouth was hard. “Tessa says he knew why Leone left him. It was because of her career, because it mattered most to her and because she thought she had another chance to conquer the world. Fame was still within her grasp. I reckon Daviot could have stomached it better if it had been another man,” he added thoughtfully, “but when a woman puts her career before everything and tells him so I reckon no self-respecting man can really take it. Leone wasn’t in love with Huntley either, but she wanted Calders for security if her career failed her, just as Tessa did.”

  “In case you didn’t come back.” Alison’s tone was flat.

  “I guess so.”

  “And now?”

  “Tessa’ll come round in the end.” He spoke without arrogance. “I told her I was sorry.”

  “Just that?”

  He looked her in the eye.

  “What more could I say?”

  She bit her lip.

  “It all sounds so very easy, but where does Huntley come in?”