by Dee Yates
The gamekeeper’s dog gave another short bark, alerting his master to the intruders. Alec Meikle, busy at the pheasant release pens, straightened up, watching their approach.
‘How’re you doing, Tam?’
‘Fine, thanks. Yoursel’?’
‘Mustn’t grumble. It’s a bad do, though, this war they say is coming. I was too young to enlist when the Great War was on. I never thought there’d be another this soon.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Anyway, it’s a while since I’ve seen you. Been busy, have you?’ He looked at Jeannie. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’
‘Aye, aye. This is Jeannie. She’s working at the Cunninghams’… as a land girl.’
‘So I’ve heard. Word gets around, you know. Pleased to meet you, hen.’ He held out his hand. ‘Are they keeping you busy on the farm?’
‘Aye, I’m busy, but I’m enjoying it. There’s plenty to learn, and it’s better than being indoors all day.’
‘Let’s hope you think that when the winter storms come in!’ Alec looked down at the release pens, where the nearly grown pheasants were pecking at the mixture of seeds and scraps that he had put out for them. ‘The poults are coming on well now. Just over a month to go. We always need beaters, so if you’ve time to spare later on, Tam, I could do with some help, especially with so many going away. Of course, I don’t know what’s going to happen with the shoot if war should start, but, for now, I’ll carry on as I am doing until I’m told otherwise.’
‘Aye, I’d like that. The sheep are clipped now, and drenched, so they’re looking after themselves more or less for a while. There’s market of course. I’ll be going regularly now. But there’ll be time in between. I’ll check with my father that he’s no objections.’
Alec sniffed. ‘Knowing your father, he’ll find some! Not that it’s any of my business, of course.’ He closed the rearing pen and straightened up. ‘Come spring, if you’re wanting extra work, there’ll be plenty, putting the hens to lay, making good the rearing pens and the release pens, guarding against poachers. I could do with some help permanently, things are that busy. But decisions like that are no’ up to me. It’s the boss who has the final word. Here, lass, give the young ones some of this.’ He held out a bowl of seeds and she crouched down to sprinkle some into the pens.
Alec and Tam walked over to the water barrel.
‘You’ve done well for yourself with that one and no mistake. She’s as bonny a lass as I’ve seen in a long time. Just remember, pal, I’m usually around somewhere, so it pays to behave yourself!’
Tam turned scarlet and, to divert attention, turned to fill the water feeders.
Back at the pens, they made them fast, bade goodbye to the gamekeeper and he and Jeannie went on their way. The sun had set and, in the forest, the approaching dusk was intensified by the close-knit trees. They had to tread carefully to avoid tripping on the exposed roots that ran across the path.
Jeannie took Tam’s hand again. ‘Do you like me, Tam?’
‘What do you think?’ He smiled at her.
‘I can see that you find me attractive, but do you like me?’
‘I think you’re the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met.’
‘And how many have you met?’ Her voice was slightly mocking now.
‘Well… well, I don’t need to go searching for others now I’ve met you,’ was his evasive answer.
She stared into his face and he stroked her hair and ran his fingers round the curve of her chin.
‘Have you been having trouble with Neil after that scene at the dance?’ Tam said suddenly. ‘The way he was tonight, he certainly didnae want you going out with me.’
‘Och, he’s just sweet on me hisself. He’ll get over it. And you needn’t worry, I can’t stand him.’
‘Why? What don’t you like?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He’s always hanging around, watching me, and he behaves as though he’s my guardian. I wish his sister was still at the farm. It might be easier then.’
‘Then they wouldn’t need you!’
‘Aye. That’s true.’
‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’
‘I’ve got three… Brothers, that is. They’re all older than me – all at university. Though they’ll probably join up when war comes. What about you, Tam? Will you have to join up?’
‘If war comes, you mean. I’m not sure what will be happening. They are talking about farmers being exempt from serving as they are needed to supply food for the folk back home, but whether that includes me as well as my brother, I’ve no idea.’
‘He’s older than you, isn’t he?’
‘Aye, a couple of years.’
Jeannie laughed. ‘You’re not a bit like one another, are you? All I ever hear is how good Alan is – canny deals at market, entering his own sheep at the show. It’s as if there’s only him, not the two of you helping your father.’
‘My brother and I are all right together really. And, if people say what they do, it’s because it’s true. He is better than me at doing things.’
‘How long have you been without a mother, if you don’t mind me asking? Did she get ill?’
Tam turned away and stared into the distance. ‘Aye, she was… ill.’ There was a long pause and Tam appeared lost in thought, until the sudden low hoot of an owl made them both jump.
‘Well, I don’t know about your brother being better than you.’ Jeannie paused, leaning over so her hair brushed his cheek. ‘I’m sure there are some things that you’re better at than your brother.’
‘Like this, for example?’ Tam lowered his face and his lips gently met hers. She responded by putting her arms round his neck and increasing the pressure on his lips. Suddenly, without warning, he drew back. ‘Come along, Jeannie. I need to get you home before it’s dark.’ He set off through the trees, pulling her after him, Jeannie startled by this sudden change in his mood.
At the farm gate, Tam stopped and turned towards Jeannie. He still held her hand in his but had made no further attempt to kiss her.
‘I’m sorry, Jeannie. I… you see, the thing is…’
Jeannie snatched her hand away. ‘It’s all right, Tam. You’ve no need to apologise. I know exactly what you’re going to say. It doesn’t matter.’ She glanced over his shoulder to the lighted kitchen of the farmhouse. ‘It looks as though Neil is waiting up for me again. I’d better go in.’
‘You don’t know what I’m going to say,’ Tam began, but Jeannie slammed shut the gate and ran across the yard to the back door without a backward glance. Once inside the porch, though, she couldn’t resist gazing through the window into the deepening dusk. She could just make out his outline. He was standing where she had left him. His arms hung by his sides, but his fists were clenched. Then, with a sudden movement, he looked up into the spangled sky, turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of his home.
‘Is that you, Jeannie?’ Agnes Cunningham’s voice made her jump. ‘Only we were just beginning to get a bit worried.’
‘Oh, you’ve no need worry on my account.’ Jeannie stepped into the light. ‘I’ll no come to any harm with Tam. He’s the perfect gentleman. I’m away to my bed.’ She crossed the room to the stairs, blinking away tears of disappointment.
‘Are you no’ having a cup of cocoa before you go?’
‘No thanks, Mrs Cunningham. Not tonight. I’m a bit tired. I’ll see you in the morning.’
At the bend in the stairs, she stopped, peering from the window into the darkness. She imagined Tam striding out along the road that ran through the valley towards his cottage and she felt the embarrassment of earlier.
‘Had a nice evening, Jeannie?’ The girl started in alarm. She had failed to hear Neil’s stealthy approach. She put her hand up to her chest to steady her heart.
‘What do you want?’ she muttered.
‘I’m only asking if you enjoyed your evening.’ He said seductively.
‘If you must know, I didn’t.’ Jeannie's tone w
as matter-of-fact.
‘Oh, why was that? Have you just realised that Tam McColl isn’t worth the effort?’
‘Get lost, Neil.’
‘Och, Jeannie, that’s not nice. And here’s me, willing to give you a bit of friendly attention.’ She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck.
‘I said, get lost. If you don’t, I’ll shout and your mother’ll hear me.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
Jeannie wheeled round and drew her knee swiftly upwards towards Neil’s groin. He stepped back quickly and nearly lost his footing. Running up the remaining stairs to her bedroom, she slammed and locked the door securely behind her. She stood with her ear against the wood but could hear nothing. Groping in the darkness, she made her way over to the bed and sat down heavily on the silky eiderdown as her pulse quietened to its normal rhythm. If I’m to stay here, she thought, I need to show him what’s what.
As she thought about the absurdity of the situation, she began to smile. Here she was fighting off the attentions of one lad when the other who had seemed genuinely interested in her less than a week ago was trying to put distance between them. ‘I only wanted to know that he liked me,’ she frowned. ‘And it’s clear that he doesn’t.’ She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. ‘Then why was he so sweet to me on the night of the dance? And why did he call for me if he was going to behave as he did? I just can’t understand him at all.’
*
Blackford Farm,
County of Lanark.
25th August
Dear Auntie Christine,
It’s three weeks now since I arrived. I’ve been busier than I ever thought possible. Mr Cunningham was well into clipping when I arrived. I’ve been assisting him – guiding the sheep through the pens and up to where he clips them, rolling the wool and, of course, lots and lots of sweeping up. I’ve been introduced to the bull – he’s mean-looking with squinty eyes and huge muscles on his shoulders. Rosie the Clydesdale is much more appealing, despite her being so big. She’s very gentle, though I take care to avoid having her stand on my toes!
I went to a dance at the weekend in the village hall. A boy called Tam invited me. I had met him last market day where he had been buying sheep. He has an older brother Alan who has a girlfriend called Fiona. Tam and Alan live with their father in a cottage up the valley. So, what with them and Neil at the farm, I’m getting to know quite a lot of people my age. Not quite Glasgow but not bad after such a short time.
Tam’s a quiet lad – a lot different from the Glasgow lads, at least the ones I’ve met. We went for a walk in the forest yesterday. Tam didn’t say much at all, only to answer my questions. But he does seem to like me. I’m not sure how to get him to talk. Do you have any ideas?
I’ve had a letter from Father. He is still insisting they need me at home. I shan’t go.
I hope you and Uncle Cameron are well. I do miss you both, but I am enjoying it here.
From your affectionate niece,
Jeannie. xx
*
Lairds House,
Dumbarton Road,
Partick.
Monday 28th August
My dear Jeannie,
My apologies for not writing sooner, only your uncle has been nursing a pain in his chest. I have been so worried about him. The doctor thought it may be his heart. However, it has been a lot better these past days, so hopefully they were wrong and it is just a touch of bronchitis.
I have written to your parents following a letter from them, expressing their concern with your welfare. I reminded your father of my time in the Land Army and how formative it was in my education. I have told them that the whole enterprise is closely monitored with frequent visits from those in positions of authority. I hope this goes some way to reassuring them.
I’m glad that you are enjoying the work. I found it great fun and felt I was doing some good. I am sure you will feel the same, especially in these unsettled times. I for one am glad you are in the safety of the countryside.
You certainly seem to have made some friends, especially with the boys! As for advice about Tam, I’m not sure I can help you there! What I would say is to take things slowly and see what friendship develops. Knowing you as I do, I’m sure you will not find this easy!
Uncle Cameron sends you his good wishes.
With much love from us both,
Auntie Christine.
18. The Kirk
August 1939
Tam McColl’s affiliation to the local kirk had begun more than thirteen years earlier, when he was engaged to pump the bellows on the ancient, wheezing contraption that was the organ. The previous occupier of this position, a lad by the name of Euan Craigie, had succumbed to tuberculosis and his small headstone could be found close to the larger one of his grandparents in the graveyard surrounding the building. Known as a boy of energy, frequently seen in the forest with a huge pair of binoculars trained on the higher branches, or with his eyes to the ground tracking deer, the local minister had hunted Tam down with the request that for tuppence a week he might like to work the bellows at the Sunday service.
Tam had no idea what such an undertaking entailed, never having been to church. Neither of his parents were, as far as he knew, believers. But he was flattered to be asked and eager to get his hands on the proffered reward, so he agreed.
The service seemed endless. In times past, he was assured, it had been much longer, so long in fact that dinner was provided for those whose empty stomachs made concentration on the divine words difficult. The advantage of Tam’s job was that, invisible in the vestry, which was where the bellows were situated, he could smuggle in a supply of cake or biscuits or sweets, if he had saved any from his week’s supply. Hidden from view, he was able to keep up his strength for the job in hand by munching his way through the Bible readings and the sermon, until called upon to perform during the hymns and the psalms.
After four years at the job, when he was beginning to consider which gullible youth he might be able to interest in the decreasingly attractive remuneration, the minister dropped dead in the middle of the service one Sunday. Tam, ensconced in the vestry, had been marvelling at the unusual energy of the day’s sermon when, abruptly, the talking ceased and there was a reverberating thud, followed by silence. Tam held his breath, waiting for the closing prayer, but none came. Instead, a murmur of voices grew to shouted commands as the slumbering congregation began to wake up to the calamity. The next second, the vestry door was flung back and the cleric was dragged, none too carefully, into the room.
Tam, shocked into immobility by the unscheduled appearance of two elders of the kirk at the head end of the minister, could only sit and stare as the rest of the body followed, accompanied by wheezing and groans from the couple carrying the legs. The boy studied the plethoric face, partly covered by a luxurious growth of snowy beard, the prominent stomach swathed in black clerical garb and the huge feet, encased in boots that still carried mud and excrement from the visited farmyards. He was both fascinated and appalled by this sudden unexpected vision and it was only when yet another person entered the crowded vestry and he heard the exclamation ‘Get that boy out of here!’ that he realised the evidence of his feasting was still spread out in front of him. Quickly, he scraped the cake into a brown paper bag, scattering crumbs.
The doctor, whose usual attendance at the service had been forestalled by the act of Annie Beattie’s going into labour, was sent for, but by the time he arrived, the minister was turning cold.
After the usual formalities had been observed the vacant position was filled by the young and newly qualified Angus Thompson. The reverend was fresh-faced, clean-shaven and exuded enthusiasm. He arrived with a wife and growing family, eager to stir up the community amongst whom he had been called to serve. The community, when it realised what he was like, was less eager. They valued their Sunday morning visit to the kirk as a time to catch up on the lack of sleep caused by early-morning farming activities during the remai
nder of the week, but this young firebrand was determined to shake the corporate lethargy of Christ’s body on earth.
Tam, however, felt his spirits aroused by this show of enthusiasm. He began to listen to the sermon and he started to take in what was read from the Bible. When the Rev. Thompson started a class for study of the word of God, Tam, along with several other young villagers, decided to attend. Some, who had gone along in the hope of fruit cake and inside information about the workings of the manse, gradually grew less regular, but not so Tam. He was fascinated by the stories and inspired by the challenges. Although he might not have recognised it openly, it was also an escape from the shadow of Alan, his elder brother.
Alan dropped occasional hints that he thought this newfound religious enthusiasm had made his brother slightly strange in the head, but said little more. His father was less restrained.
‘Religion is all very well in its place,’ he lectured Tam. ‘But its place is in the kirk… and your place is here on the farm helping out, not escaping your duties to go and rest your backside on a dusty pew for several hours.’
Tam, however, was not to be shaken from his commitment. He took to getting up even earlier on Sunday morning so that his farmyard chores were completed while the rest of the family were still slumbering in their beds. On his return from the kirk, he would ignore the snide remarks that came his way and sit down silently to his dinner.
But what his father’s disapproval couldn’t influence, his feelings for Jeannie began to instead. A nugget of doubt began to replace the certainties that had been slowly growing since the arrival of the Rev. Thompson. He had long since outgrown the weekly discussion groups in the parlour of the manse, with the meekly subservient parson’s wife serving tea and cakes and her growing horde of children stampeding through the rooms overhead. But he rarely missed a Sunday morning service and took his turn at reading from the huge black Bible or standing at each pew end to pass the felt-lined collection plate under the noses of the captive congregation. And he still listened attentively to the sermon and tried to apply what he had learned to his life outside the kirk.
