God's Acre

by Dee Yates

  Alan paused. ‘Aye, all right, as long as you’re no’ too long.’

  ‘I’m ready now.’ Tam snatched up his coat from the back of the chair.

  ‘You’ll have something to eat before you go?’

  ‘No, Dad. I’ll maybe have a cup of tea at Jeannie’s. See you later.’

  *

  ‘How’s things been?’ Tam asked, as the two brothers left behind the light from the cottage.

  ‘Difficult in the snow. The old man’s no’ so strong as he was. He’s finding it hard in this weather we’re having.’

  Tam glanced at his brother. ‘You all right?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘You and Fiona OK?’

  Alan shrugged. ‘I’ve no’ seen her for a few days… been a bit busy with all there was to do.’

  ‘Aye.’ Tam sighed. ‘Jeannie will be pleased at my news. She was no’ wanting me to go.’

  ‘Hardly surprising.’ The bitterness in Alan’s voice made Tam turn and stare at his brother. ‘You don’t deserve a nice lass like that.’

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Well, look at you, pal! You don’t give her much consideration. A girl like her needs to be shown that you care for her. No wonder the girl is upset.’

  ‘How do you know she’s upset?’

  There was a second’s pause. ‘Well, she will be, if she’s like most of the girls I’ve met. After all, you said you were going to enlist, even before they sent for you. She’s bound to think you don’t care for her.’

  ‘She knows I care for her.’ Tam eyed his brother suspiciously. ‘I’m warning you, Alan McColl, leave my girl alone.’

  ‘Now look here. All I said was…’

  Tam stepped close to Alan, his voice raised in anger. ‘As I said, leave her alone. It’s Fiona you should be looking after. When I need your advice about my girl, I’ll ask you for it.’

  ‘Och, but you never will, Tam. You haven’t a clue how to treat women.’

  Tam swung a punch at his brother, but Alan, doubtless knowing what his brother’s reaction would be, was quick to duck out of his way.

  He turned and headed towards the village. From the darkness, his voice called out. ‘Mark my words, Tam. You haven’t a clue.’

  Tam stood in the road, clenching and unclenching his fists. The worst of it was, he knew his brother to be right. He hadn’t a clue how to treat women. But that was no excuse for Alan to presume to teach him… Alan, who had a reputation like no one else in the area for chasing girls. If that was what he meant by caring for girls, then Tam could do without what he had to teach.

  *

  Jeannie was curled up in a chair that seemed too big for her, on the other side of the fireplace from Rob. He had removed his big boots, which lay askew on the rug, and his stockinged feet were in the hearth. He was talking to Agnes, who stood at the ironing board, at her feet a basket of crumpled clothes. Jeannie stared into the fire until her eyes smarted. Rob’s voice came to her as from a distance, its effect and that of the fire soporific. If it had not been for the confused state of her mind, she would have been asleep. As it was, she didn’t hear the knock on the door and was jerked sickeningly out of her stupor only by Agnes’s words.

  ‘Tam! How nice to see you! Have you come to tell us how you got on in Glasgow?’

  Jeannie sprang up from the chair and stared at Tam with an unsmiling face, over which spread a sudden blush. ‘Oh… Tam! I didnae expect you tonight.’

  ‘Well, you might sound a bit more pleased to see me.’

  ‘I’m sorry… I didnae mean…’ She approached timidly and gave him a brief peck on the cheek.

  Neil rose abruptly from the table, where he was sugar-soaping Rosie’s bridle, and left the room.

  ‘So, how did you get on, lad?’ Rob Cunningham pulled himself upright and drew his feet from the fireplace. ‘How much longer do we have the pleasure of your company?’

  ‘They’ve turned me down,’ Tam replied, not taking his eyes off Jeannie.

  Jeannie, expecting the opposite answer from the one she heard, gasped and raised her hands to her cheeks. Then she sat down abruptly and unaccountably burst into tears.

  Tam crossed quickly to her and put his arm round her shoulders. ‘What’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased that I’m to stay at home.’

  ‘Of course I am. It’s just such a shock. I didnae expect it.’

  ‘Well, you’d better get used to the idea, because it looks as if I’m here to stay.’

  ‘What was wrong, Tam?’ Agnes’s voice was full of concern. ‘Why would they no’ take you?’

  ‘Och! The doctor said I’d a heart murmur… not that it’s ever been mentioned before… nor given me any trouble,’ he added hastily.

  ‘A heart murmur,’ Agnes repeated, as though to herself. ‘We had a little lass with a heart murmur, didn’t we, Rob?’ Rob grunted by way of reply. ‘Our second, she was. Died when she was two months short of her second birthday… Not that I’m implying…’ She put her hand to her mouth as she realised what she had said.

  ‘It seems mine is the result of an infection I took when I was a child. Alan remembers the doctor taking especial heed to my heart.’ Tam shrugged. ‘Anyhow, it’s made no difference to me being able to work. I can’t see why they refused to take me. It stands to reason if I can work all day on the farm, I can do the job of a soldier.’

  ‘Your father will be pleased, I dare say,’ Rob said, settling back into the chair.

  ‘Aye. I hope he is… though he seemed annoyed that they wouldnae take me.’

  ‘Ah well. I can understand that. Did you hear what Tam’s been saying, Neil? He’s no’ going away into the army after all.’

  Neil had come silently back into the room. He crossed to the wireless, which stood on a dresser at the back of the room, and fiddled with its tuning so that it emitted a cacophony of interrupted speech and music.

  ‘Aye, I heard. More’s the pity,’ he added under his breath.

  ‘Are you coming for a walk then, Jeannie?’ Tam said eagerly.

  ‘It’s awful cold out there.’ She looked out of the window, through which nothing but blackness was visible. ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay indoors by the fire?’

  Tam looked around at the group, who all seemed to be listening to the conversation between the two young people. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I’ve been cooped up in the train all day. I need some fresh air.’ Jeannie stared into the fire without looking at him. ‘No worries. I’m away to my home then.’ And before Jeannie could reply, Tam turned on his heel and left the room.

  ‘Jeannie. What’s got into you, hen. That was gey rude, when poor Tam’s walked all the way here to see you,’ he could hear Rob saying, and he caught Neil’s muttered comment as he closed the door.

  ‘More likely she’s coming to her senses at last.’

  *

  Jeannie sprang out of her chair, struggled into wellington boots and coat and flung open the door, slamming it behind her with such vehemence that the windows shook.

  How dare they? How dare the family presume to comment on things they knew nothing about? However, in her heart of hearts she knew her actions were borne of guilt. Since that meeting with Alan in the barn and the touch of his lips on hers, she had been able to think of little else. His kiss had excited her, made her yearn for more, but was it because she wanted Alan or was it that he was so willing to give what Tam gave only reluctantly? All she knew for sure was that she was being mean to Tam, even if he had given her just cause.

  She followed Tam slowly, the distance between them lengthening. By the waning light of a newly risen moon, she could pick him out clearly. From time to time, he looked round, as if expecting to see her, but she darted into the shadow of bushes lining the track, unable to face a reunion with him. Guilt ate away at her stomach. Eventually she stopped. What was she doing following him like this? She didn’t want to speak to him. She had no idea what she would say, because she had no idea at this precise momen
t what her feelings were. She stood until he rounded a bend in the road and was out of sight. Then, with a convulsive shiver, she retraced her steps.

  *

  Turning the corner of the barn on one side of the yard, Tam could see that the light was still on in the kitchen. He had no desire to be subjected to further interrogation, neither about his failed attempt to enlist nor the subsequent brief visit to the Cunninghams’ farm. Besides, his brother might be back and he had not laid aside the suspicions raised by Alan’s words.

  Pulling open the small door leading into the barn, he stepped into the chill quiet and sat down on a pile of straw. The air held the lingering smell of hay and a more recent aroma of engine oil. The dark shadow of the tractor, on which Alan had been working, obscured the main entrance with its huge double doors. Scattered on the ground, Tam could make out the tools that his brother had been using, together with a pile of greasy cloths and an old jacket slung over a crate. How typical, he thought sourly, that his brother should leave a job without clearing up at the end of it. It had always been the way of things. Always, it was Tam who had seen to it that things were put away tidily, so they could be found clean and ready for use when the occasion required. Always, it was his brother who received the praise, while Tam’s contribution was ignored.

  He thought about his earlier altercation with his brother. Tam knew that he had overreacted. Alan had only voiced what so many others must have been thinking. After all, it did stand to reason that Jeannie would be upset by his proposed abandoning of her when he had no need to do so. And his brother was right. He hadn’t a clue how to treat women. And, what was more, it looked as though his incompetence was beginning to drive Jeannie away.

  He must have dozed off in the straw. He came to with a jump, staring vacantly into the dark space, and shivered. There was a thud on the wall of the barn, followed by a voice, blurry with overindulgence in ale. There came another blow on the wall and then a slithering sound and silence. Tam pulled open one of the doors. Outside, slumped against the other door, sprawled his brother. He squinted drunkenly at Tam.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Tam, is it?’ he drawled. ‘Back from seeing the beautiful Jeannie, are you? And did she live up to expectations the night? She’s had gey practice, I dare say.’

  ‘Shut up, Alan. Let’s get you into the cottage. You’ll catch your death out here.’ Tam caught hold of Alan’s arm and drew it round his neck, dragging him to his feet. ‘And for goodness’ sake be quiet or you’ll have Father downstairs, wondering what’s going on. Anyway,’ Tam went on, attempting to steer an even path across the yard to the kitchen door, ‘it’s Fiona whose praises you should be singing, not Jeannie. Fiona’s your girl, remember.’

  ‘Och aye. So she is. The beautiful Fiona! She’s tricked me right enough, hasn’t she, Tam? Jeannie would never do a thing like that now, would she? She would never do anything behind your back!’ Alan started to giggle uncontrollably until overtaken by a bout of hiccups.

  Tam was beginning to wish that he had been less hasty in getting Alan into the cottage. Sobering off in the barn might have been a better idea. As if in answer to his unspoken misgivings, the kitchen light flashed on and their father stood on the doorstep.

  ‘What’s this racket the two of yous are making? If you cannae hold your ale, you shouldnae be drinking.’

  ‘Och, Father! We weren’t doing any harm. Only waxing lyrical over the beautiful Jeannie,’ Alan informed him indistinctly.

  ‘The both of yous should know better. Get into the house now before you set the dogs off barking.’

  Alan stumbled over the doorstep and lay spread-eagled on the kitchen floor.

  ‘I think he’s best left there the night,’ Tam said. ‘We’ll never get him upstairs. I’ll fetch a blanket.’

  When he returned, Alan was lying where he had fallen and their father was nowhere to be seen. Tam heaved a sigh of relief. At least there would be no explaining to do, and hopefully his father would have forgotten the incident by morning… if Alan had recovered by then, of course. He gave him a nudge with the toe of his boot to check that he was still alive. When Alan grunted by way of reply, Tam threw the blanket over him, lifted his head to slide a pillow under it, gave him another, less gentle, kick and, turning off the light, crossed the room and dragged his feet wearily to the bedroom.

  But sleep was long in coming. The mocking words of his brother kept returning to him: Jeannie would never do anything behind your back. Tam recalled the saying spoken only the week before by someone at the market – ‘Wine speaks the truth’. Was Alan’s indiscretion referring to something that Jeannie had done – or something that he had done with Jeannie? Tam turned over in his bed and stared into the darkness.

  29. A Wedding

  March 1940

  The wedding was planned for the beginning of March, in the expectation that there might be some early signs of spring. In the event, the snow that had arrived so spectacularly at the end of January refused to go away. It still covered the hillsides in a crisp coating of white and lay in grimy heaps along the roadsides of the village. Mud and ice made walking treacherous in village and countryside alike.

  The kirk caretaker had arrived early so that the building would be warmed through by the time the wedding party arrived, but the ancient heating system was no match for the continuing cold spell and guests shivered in inadequate attire as they waited for the service to begin. Fiona, dressed, because of war-time restrictions, in a long frock that had previously belonged to her auntie, looked slim and starry-eyed, oblivious to the weather. Other young women in the congregation, presumably bemoaning the fact that Alan was no longer available, looked less happy. Alan stood in front of the minister, waiting for Fiona to reach his side. His hunched shoulders and contemplation of the floorboards spoke of resignation and regret. At his other side stood Tam, uncomfortable at being near the centre of attention.

  Jeannie, seated halfway down the kirk, contemplated the two brothers. How different from each other they were, she thought, one outgoing and talkative, the other complicated and quiet and seemingly impossible to get to know. Why could Tam not have inherited a little of his brother’s easy-going nature? Why did life have to be so difficult? Since Tam’s return from Glasgow he had barely spoken to her and, since that first evening, not once come to the farm to see how she was. Anyhow, if this was how things were to be, she was not going to waste her days pining for him. She recalled the words of her brother – ‘If he can’t see all the good things there are to see in you, then let him go.’ She sat up straight in the pew and gazed around her in interest.

  ‘I hope you’ll be very happy,’ Jeannie said to Fiona, as she entered the hotel later and approached the wedding party. She kissed Fiona’s cheek and received a hug in return. She stepped on down the line. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy,’ she said to Alan, shaking his hand.

  ‘Don’t I get a kiss… for old times’ sake.’ He pulled her towards him.

  ‘What old times? We’ve only known one another for a few months!’

  ‘Aye, but it makes no difference to how I feel about you,’ he whispered and, because of its proximity, kissed the soft down in front of her ear.

  Jeannie jerked back, her face burning, and stumbled on down the line.

  Seated next to Agnes Cunningham, she gradually resumed her composure. Agnes and Rob and their daughter Sarah, a long-time friend of Fiona’s, had been invited to the wedding and, along with her husband and lively two-year-old, kept the party entertained. Neil shared the table with them but said very little, casting only occasional glances in Jeannie’s direction, as he had done since their arrival.

  Jeannie had forgotten that it was the custom for the best man to give a speech, so she was brought to sudden attention by the sound of Tam’s voice. For one so reticent about speaking, he was remarkably eloquent. He spoke warmly about his brother’s life, his hard work on the farm and his choice of partner. What his words lacked in humour, they made up for in praise. They were followed b
y wholehearted applause and Jeannie found herself glowing with pride.

  The bouquet had been thrown, before the couple had dressed warmly in their outdoor clothes and began their goodbyes, when Jeannie felt a hand on her elbow. She turned round to see Tam looking at her.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Tam. Your speech was very good.’

  ‘Thanks, Jeannie. Er… it’s a long time since I’ve seen you. Do you fancy coming out for a walk tomorrow if the weather’s not too bad? I’ve to go and see Alec in the forest. I promised to help him when spring came round again.’

  Jeannie could hardly keep the surprise from her voice. She nodded slowly. ‘Aye, Tam. That would be good.’

  ‘I’ll call for you in the morning. He’s likely to be up there early. In fact, I’ll walk you home tonight, if you like.’

  ‘Och, that’s all right, Tam. I’m going back with Mr and Mrs Cunningham.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Anyway, I’ll probably have jobs to do before I go. That seems to be what a best man does.’

  She laughed. ‘Aye. You’d better carry on being the best man.’

  Still smiling, she went off to find Rob and Agnes and their family.

  *

  A sudden rise in temperature brought a rapid thaw overnight. Burns rushed noisily down the sides of the valley and the river ran deep and menacing through its base. Birds were testing out songs that had been sadly lacking through the long weeks of snow. By half past ten, Tam and Jeannie had crossed the river, the water dangerously near the top of the bridge, and were entering the forest. Even here, dark and overhung as it always was, bright green shoots were appearing on the end of dark-needled branches and sunbeams were pushing their way through gaps in the trees to enliven the scattered patches of exposed grass.

  In the distance, they could hear the sound of hammering. Alec Meikle was already busy at work, mending pens that had suffered under the weight of snow. He stopped as they approached and looked up with a smile.

  ‘Well, it’s good to see the two of yous again. I hear your brother’s got himself wed. Maybe it’ll be your turn next.’ At the sight of Tam’s startled face, Alec’s smile vanished. ‘Oh dear, have I put my foot in it?’