“Yes Mama,” mumbles Lexie. She stops crying but returns a thumb to her mouth.
Lexie soon comes back with Lorna in her arms and Florence toddling along behind. Florence thinks it is exciting to be allowed into her parents’ bed and snuggles down beside her mother. Sarah puts Lorna to the breast and suckling noises replace her crying. Sarah senses she has little to feed her hungry daughter but it will have to suffice for now.
“Now, I need ye to be a really big girl. I need ye to get dressed and go over to the Burts and fetch Mrs Burt for me.”
“Yes Mama.” Lexie knows something is wrong. She does not dally.
.....
When Lexie and Mrs Burt enter the bedroom, Florence is trying to lift a crying Lorna from one breast to the other. Sarah is unconscious. Mrs Burt takes the baby and passes her to Lexie. She picks up Sarah’s limp wrist trying to feel for a pulse. There is a weak thud and she breathes a sigh of relief.
“Quick Lexie, run back to the shop and tell Mr Burt to fetch the doctor.”
Mrs Burt takes Lorna from Lexie’s arms and balances her on her hip while she goes to the kitchen to fetch a glass of cool water and a damp flannel.
Sarah has come to by the time the doctor arrives some thirty minutes later but she is still dazed and the doctor recommends an overnight visit at the hospital for observation.
“But I cannae leave the girls,” protests Sarah.
“Mr Burt and I will look after them Sarah. You just worry about getting yourself well again.”
Two bags are hurriedly packed, one for Sarah to take to the hospital and another for the girls to take to the Burts. Brief farewells are said and the doctor, who was on his way to the hospital, takes Sarah away in his motorcar. The girls are now without their mother and father – temporarily. Mrs Burt will not let them dwell on that though; she bundles them back to her place and proffers a glass of warm milk and a cookie for Lexie and Florence and a bottle for Lorna.
.....
It is a few days before Sarah returns home with strict instructions to live life at a gentler pace. The doctors find Sarah’s heart is not as strong as it should be. The reason why eludes them: either something viral or a genetic disorder. But the cause is irrelevant, the prognosis is the same, and it is not good.
Mrs Burt rallies the neighbourhood and each night a different neighbour arrives with a pot of soup, a stew or a pie for supper. Sarah recognises their faces, has seen them previously in the street or at church and is humbled by their generosity, especially now that the war is on and supplies are scarce. There is always sufficient left over for lunch the next day, but Mrs Burt will not listen to any of Sarah’s protests as she busies herself fluffing Sarah’s pillows and directs Lexie to get her sisters dressed, make the beds, get a bottle for Lorna, and any other task she deems her capable of.
Lexie is glad her mother has come home from the hospital. Staying with the Burts was fun though; she got to sleep in a big bed in a room of her own and Mrs Burt didn’t give her lots of chores to do like she is now.
Lying in bed at night time, when her sisters are both asleep, Lexie wonders where her father is and hopes he will be home soon; he always fixes problems for her mother – he will make everything better again.
Chapter Fifteen
Scotland 1914
It is a case of deja vu for Murdo, or is it? He is sitting atop the Campbell’s wagon. His eldest brother Angus is driving the wagon to Ullapool where Murdo is to board a fishing boat going over to the east coast for the herring season. The boat will stop on the way in Scapa Flow where John is stationed. The wagon is in need of repair and they have had to borrow a horse, theirs having died and there being no money to replace it. How long has it been, Murdo wonders - nearly sixteen years - life doesn’t stand still, some things change for the better and some things for worse. Angus used to be young and vigorous; now flecks of grey garnish his hair, his shoulders slump with a weariness born of the struggle to survive and the onus of responsibility to provide for his family. Murdo knows it is futile to suggest that Angus leave Achadh’ a Braigh. As the first-born son his life is cast in tradition, he must remain the head of the house. It is reassuring to know that Angus will be there for their mother in her twilight years.
At Ullapool they bid each other a restrained farewell. Angus as always, masks his emotions. Murdo grabs his bag. He must not miss the fishing boat. There are fewer boats making the trip this summer; the herring seasons have not been producing high yields in recent years. Many of the boat owners have had to sell and those that remain struggle to find enough young men to crew them with so many volunteering to help with the looming war effort. And then there are the heightened dangers of the sea to consider.
.....
Staying close to the shore, the small fishing boat does not attract the attention of any German vessels lurking in the Atlantic Ocean. Dim sunlight escapes beneath the dense low-lying clouds as the fishing boat makes its approach to Scapa. The calm waters of Scapa Flow capture and reflect the sun’s rays before it dips below the horizon for another day. The crew of the fishing boat stand on deck awed by the sight of the battle cruisers anchored in the shallow bay. At the port they berth in the shadow of a merchant ship seconded for the duration of the anticipated war effort to transport the necessary arms and ammunition, fuel and food, as well as military personnel and all the other paraphernalia of war. The relative safety of Achadh’ a Braigh where ignorance is possible seems a million miles away. Realisation of the sheer size and significance of the impending conflict dawns on Murdo. He prays that Sarah and his girls are safe on the other side of the world. He imagines little Lorna, whom he has hardly cast his eyes upon nor held. He remembers Lexie and Florence, their happy giggles and little legs skipping about everywhere. He worries about Sarah, hopes she is coping and longs to hold her close again.
Murdo hears that some of the naval recruits are being billeted at the Scapa distillery. Crew members have pointed out the building’s red brick exterior sitting prominently on the shoreline and he decides to make this his first stop in attempting to find John who is not expecting any visitors.
“Good evening,” he says to the first officer he sees. “I be looking for me brother, John Campbell.”
“Dinnae know the name. Is he an officer?”
“He signed up for the merchant navy,” adds Murdo, “Been here a couple of months.”
“Och! Well ye’ll not find him in here,” replies the officer with a hint of disdain. “These quarters are only for Royal Naval officers. Ye’d best head over to Kirkwall. If he’s not on a training exercise he’ll be in town somewhere.”
Murdo thanks the officer and sets off on foot in the direction indicated. The locals of Kirkwall, the largest settlement on the mainland of Orkney, are a lot friendlier than the naval officer and soon Murdo has a ride on a cart with a fisherman who is returning to Kirkwall after a day’s fishing on Scapa Flow. It is still light when they reach the township. Murdo has forgotten that in this northern part of the world, at this time of the year the days can go on deep into the night, the sun only resting for a few hours before rising again for another summer’s day.
“I heard tell there is a performance on at the Kirkwall Hotel down on Harbour Street. It’s especially for the troops so perhaps ye’d best try there first,” suggests the fisherman. “If nae, ye can take yeself a room and look for ye brother again in the morn.”
The fisherman drops Murdo off outside the hotel and continues on his way to the harbour to swap his full boxes of lobsters for empty ones and get ready for another day’s fishing tomorrow.
.....
The interior of the hotel bar is a haze of cigarette smoke, suspended mid-air above the heads of the patrons. Murdo wonders how the men can hear each other talk, the din of the collective conversations is deafening. In the corner opposite the door is a small wooden stage. Three young attractive women are standing nervously behind microphones; their matching silver dresses are sparkling under a single spotlight suspe
nded from the ceiling. They have been recruited by Harry Lauder to perform his songs for the troops. Tonight is their debut on home soil and if they are well received they will get to go abroad and perform. A man at a table near the stage wolf whistles, drawing the attention of others. There are more wolf whistles and clapping as the conversations slowly abate and eyes are turned to the stage. The music begins, and the trio launch into the first song of their repertoire ‘Roamin’ in the Gloamin’. Most of the bar’s patrons are Highlanders and they welcome the lyrics that remind them of their homeland recently left behind. The trio’s many nights of practice are rewarded when their first song is met with boisterous applause.
Murdo stands beside the bar scanning the sea of faces but is not sure what to look for. John was only twelve when he last saw him and gave him his old boots on the wharf at Ullapool. The boy will now be a man.
“What can I get ye, sir?” asks the burly barman.
“Aye, just a half a pint please,” replies Murdo thinking he doesn’t want to be here all night if John is not to be found. “I be looking for me brother, John Campbell, ye’d wouldnae know him would ye?”
“Nae, but see Big Jim over yonder, the one with the long wiry red beard, ask him. Nothing happens around Kirkwall that he’ll nae know.”
Murdo thanks the barman, takes his half pint and manoeuvres his way between the tables, checking out the faces as he goes, heading towards Big Jim.
“Murdo? It cannae be! Surely not! Is it ye, Murdo?” John spots his big brother first but is not expecting to see him in Kirkwall.
John stands, hugs his brother and gives him a manly slap on the back before standing back to check it really is Murdo. The music starts up again.
“Hoy! Sit down!” yells a man whose view of the stage is blocked.
John grabs a seat left empty by someone who has gone to the bar. Murdo and John sit down and spend the duration of the song shaking their heads, grinning at one another in disbelief. They never imagined ever seeing one another again. As the night progresses, snippets of life are shared between the songs. Murdo realizes that his little brother is no longer little. In his absence a man has emerged, a man who has honed his skills on the sea and has now bravely volunteered to use those skills to serve his country. Murdo feels proud.
“Attention! Attention!” a smartly attired officer yells. He stands on a table beside the bar to get everyone’s attention. “All recruits must return to base by 2200 hours.”
“We’ve nae got any training exercises tomorrow,” responds a recruit reluctant to finish the night’s entertainment early.
“Nae more training. The Germans have become an ally of Austria and Hungary and have amassed a naval fleet to challenge our dominance of the sea. It is only a matter of days or weeks before we are in the thick of action.”
There is a communal groan from the men in the bar. The officer can see that many have more than a few beers under their belts and stays to ensure they all follow the order.
“We’ll sing one last song for ye,” announces one of the singing trio and so they launch into ‘End of the Road’.
Everyone joins in for the chorus and some of the men continue singing it out into the street and off down to the base. ‘Keep right on to the end of the road ...’ they sing, certain that in their drunken state their base is at the end of the road. ‘Tho’ the way may be long, let your heart be strong ...’ they sing, uncertain about the struggles they will face in the war ahead.
The bar slowly empties and Murdo approaches the officer.
“I’m meant to be going back to New Zealand. I’m just visiting me brother,” he explains.
“Well, ye’d best be off at first light. Word is that Britain will declare war within the week.”
.....
First light does not arrive. Scapa Flow is shrouded in dense fog, the rugged terrain of the surrounding islands seeking to enclose the naval base, cloak it in secrecy only to be unveiled at a strategic point in time. Fortunately for Murdo, several high-level naval officers must report to London for a reconnaissance. Their small naval vessel is scheduled to sail for London at noon and Murdo is able to board the merchant navy ship that will act as its escort.
John must report for duty early in the morning so he and Murdo say a quick goodbye. They are both distracted, wondering what the full impact of a war will mean for each of them. They never expected to see one another this time and hope there will be more unexpected visits in the future.
.....
The trip south from Scapa Flow to London is slow and full of tension. The British Navy has been mining the North Sea and all ships, enemy or not, must be wary or risk hitting a mine and being sunk. The alternative route through the Atlantic Ocean is no safer with German U-boats threatening to sink any ship belonging to Britain or her allies.
In London Murdo purchases a ticket and on 31st July boards the Orama – the same ship on which he came over. Crew and passengers are on edge. There is a lifeboat drill soon after leaving the dock. Everyone is assigned a lifeboat station and, instructed to keep their lifejackets hanging in their cabins rather than stowing them away. Every possible precaution is being taken and this only heightens the atmosphere of tension on the Orama. After a brief stop at Gibraltar, the ship crosses the Mediterranean Sea and enters Port Said to await its scheduled passage through the Suez Canal. Sixteen hours later the ship reaches Suez, leaves the canal and enters the Indian Ocean. When the Germans invade Belgium on the 4th August, Britain declares war and all aboard the Orama pray they are far enough away from the fighting to be safe.
.....
The captain breathes a sigh of relief when several weeks later the Orama docks in Melbourne. He is grateful to have once again delivered his passengers safely to their destination. Then he receives word that this is to be the final civilian voyage of the Orama. After two further stops at Sydney and Brisbane she is to be commissioned as an Armed Merchant Cruiser. The captain acknowledges that all have a part to play in the war effort, including his precious ship.
Murdo finds passage on another vessel sailing to Wellington. He can’t wait to be home – just another few days before he will see Sarah and his girls again. He wonders what work he will be able to find. There is probably a scarcity of men with reports of all the young ones volunteering.
A few days turns into two weeks. The Germans are not limiting their war efforts to Europe. From their base in German Samoa they launch attacks on British and allied ships in the Pacific. All the crew members are on constant alert and in radio contact with British ships for reported sightings of the Germans. Fortunately they are not subject to any threat from beneath the water’s surface, as there are no submarines stationed in these waters. Lifejackets are worn almost constantly, affording moral support more than any actual physical protection as the vessel zigzags its way toward Wellington.
By the time they dock in Wellington, Murdo is very aware of the need to help the British do all they can to defeat the Germans. He is grateful to make it to dry land again but vows never to board another ship in his lifetime, the past two weeks having been the most harrowing experience. Any assistance he can offer in the war effort will have to be land-based. All Murdo wants to do is grab his bag and head for his home and family in Lower Hutt. As he is not a new immigrant this time, getting through customs is relatively simple and Murdo sets off to catch a train to the Hutt.
He is filled with excitement and anticipation to see Sarah and the girls and breaks into a jog to cover the short distance from the train station to their house. Going around to the back door he notices the blue and white gingham curtains at the kitchen window are drawn. That is unusual for this time of day. He turns the back door knob but it only moves halfway round; the door is locked. Murdo looks at his watch, nearly three o’clock, and thinks it is most likely they are fetching Lexie from school. He sits down on the doorstep to catch his breath. He is impatient now, looks again at his watch and begins pacing back and forwards. At three thirty, he is feeling slightly
deflated that still nobody is home. Then he remembers there is a spare key under a rock by the clothesline. He fetches the key and gets inside his home but it is apparent that no one has been living here in the last couple of days. Murdo wonders where they can be.
Chapter Sixteen
Lower Hutt 1915
“Oh, it’s you Murdo. Thought it might be. Welcome home,” says Thomas Burt as he comes in the back door. “Mary saw the light on and insisted I come and check.”
“Good evening to ye Thomas,” replies Murdo extending his hand to greet his neighbour. “Can ye tell me where me family are?”
“We’ve got the girls staying with us. Sarah is having a few days away with Maggie. She needed a rest.”
“She went away and left the lasses with ye?”
“Yes, doctor’s orders, you know, complete rest.”
“Doctor’s orders?” queries Murdo in a state of disbelief.
“Yes, you know, it’s her heart. It’s got a lot worse since you left.”
“Och. I shouldnae have gone,” sighs Murdo regretfully.
“She’s expected back the day after tomorrow. They’ll all be pleased to see you. Mary will bring the girls back in the morning.”
“Thanks Thomas, I donnae know what we’d do without ye and Mary.” Murdo frowns. “I need to find some work. Do ye think Mary could have the lasses for the mornin’ so I can get me a job?”
“Sure. Maisie can look after them. Come for dinner and surprise them.”
“Do ye know of any jobs going?” queries Murdo. “Maybe something to help with the war effort.”
“I heard Hazelwoods are looking for another baker. They’ve got a contract to supply all the bread for the army camp at Trentham.”
“Hazelwoods? Where’s that?”
“It’s a general store in Upper Hutt.”
“Och, I remember. Thanks again Thomas. I’ll try there in the morning and then be back to pick the girls up.”
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