by Dee Yates
‘No, don’t worry, Alec,’ Jeannie said hurriedly. ‘Only we haven’t talked about things like that.’ She looked down at her feet, thinking how she and Tam had talked only infrequently in the last weeks and not at all about their relationship. Did one in fact exist – or was she nothing more to Tam than a friend?
‘Well, pal.’ Alec turned to Tam. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t leave it too long. There’s plenty out there who would welcome a pretty girl like Jeannie on their arm. Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve come to hear me talk about marriage – except to say I wouldn’t be without my wife, not for anyone.’
‘There’s a bit of work to do on the pens,’ Tam said, changing the subject and indicating a roof that was hanging off one of the rearing pens. The release pens too were in poor shape after the heavy snows.
‘Aye. We need to get the rearing pens repaired for the young poults coming out. That’s where my wife comes in useful,’ he said, turning to Jeannie. ‘She puts the eggs to incubate indoors and looks after them for me. When they hatch, I bring them out here about the end of April, if the weather’s warm enough, and I look after them inside these pens. And then, after two months or so, I transfer them to the release pens, so they can toughen up – get around on the ground, fly up into the trees, that kind of thing.’
‘Before they finish up as somebody’s dinner,’ Jeannie said, pulling a face.
‘Aye, but no different from the little lambs and calves you see in the fields down below you. That’s nature for you.’
After Alec and Tam had made a tour of inspection, they rejoined Jeannie, who was standing quietly, looking into the distance at the village and its spread of farmhouses.
‘We start lambing mid-April,’ Tam said. ‘Until then there should be time for me to come over and help.’
‘I’d appreciate it,’ said Alec. ‘My body’s beginning to get the rheumatics with all this cold. Elspeth’s keen for me to do less, though what she doesn’t realise is that pheasant rearing is in my bones, just as much as the cold is!’
Tam and Jeannie discussed the work of the farms as they made their way back cautiously through the trees along a path still slippery with mud.
‘Mr Cunningham says lambing will start at the beginning of April. You said yours would be mid-April.’
‘Aye, that’s because we’re up in the hills. They’re always later with us. But it’ll be busy, once they get going.’
‘I’m looking forward to it. I arrived too late last year – and too late for most of the clipping as well. I was just in time for clearing out the lambing shed and sweeping up the bits and pieces that were left behind!’
‘I won’t see you much once we get busy, you realise that?’
‘I know, Tam. But we are friends, aren’t we?’
There was a long pause before Tam said slowly, ‘More than just friends, I hope.’
‘That’s what I hoped.’
‘And now?’
The pause was momentary. ‘What do you think?’ She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips. But her kiss was tentative, a reflection of her uncertainty. Could she really commit herself to someone who blew hot and cold as Tam did?
‘Come on then.’ Tam smiled and took her hand. ‘Let’s get back. I’ve no wish to bump into everyone leaving church and have them asking me why I wasnae there.’
30. Deception
April 1940
Catching a ewe, even one that was in the process of giving birth, was no easy task. It required, Jeannie soon found out, brute strength as well as agility. Even when she could sprint fast enough to bring it down, it would somehow squirm from her grasp and escape. She and Neil were tasked with gathering the sheep from those fields furthest away from the farm and bringing them to the in-bye land, where a close eye could be kept on them. Difficult though it was, eventually there were fifty ewes in the field and nearly as many in the lambing shed. All they could do now was wait.
‘There’s two getting ready to drop a lamb,’ Neil announced, going over to the sink to wash his hands. ‘I had better be quick with my breakfast. Are you coming to watch, Jeannie?’
‘Aye. I’d like to do that.’
‘OK then. Eat up. They’ll not be long in delivering.’
Jeannie was excited. She finished her toast and swallowed down her tea, then rushed to put on her boots and coat. The wind was keen and was finding its way through every crack in the lambing shed.
Neil was already there, watching as the lamb emerged from its mother. He steadied it out and as it fell into the straw he cleaned the membrane from around its mouth, allowing it to breath more freely. Jeannie watched in amazement as the ewe stood and bent her head to lick the lamb and encourage it to stand. In no more than a few seconds, it had staggered to its feet and was tottering drunkenly around its mother, seeking nourishment.
Now the second ewe was getting near to delivery. But all was not going well. Rob had joined them and had been watching the mother keenly. ‘This one’s needing a bit of help,’ he muttered. ‘All four legs are there at once. Ideally there should be the nose and two front legs. This one won’t deliver.’ Jeannie watched as Rob pushed the lamb back up into its mother and disentangled the legs so the front two presented first. The lamb slithered out into the straw.
‘Come into the pen, lass. Clean round the mouth as Neil did with the last one. That’s right,’ Rob said as Jeannie tentatively removed the membrane. ‘Don’t be too gentle, lass. They need a bit of a stimulus to get them going sometimes.’ The lamb gave a loud bleat and raised its back end off the ground, and then its front. In no time it was suckling well.
‘It’s important, these first few feeds,’ Rob said. ‘A lot of goodness in them that gets passed to the lamb.’ Jeannie stood back beaming. ‘The next one you can do,’ said Rob, beaming back and removing the smile from her face.
By the time Saturday afternoon came, she had, under supervision, done four deliveries, including one that resulted in twins.
‘You’ve deserved your afternoon off, lass,’ Rob said to her. ‘Go and get out for a bit and forget about us.’
*
Walking across the moor to Shieldburn Farm, Jeannie was thinking that it was only a week until lambing started for Douglas McColl and his sons. Tam had invited her to walk with him up to the further hills, where he was planning to check on the sheep.
There was no answer to her knock, so she made her way to the barn behind the cottage. It too was empty. Only the smaller shed remained. She was alarmed suddenly by the sound of banging and clattering and curses coming from its interior. Her face broke into a grin. This was not the first time she had encountered Tam’s temper. She opened the door and was therefore taken aback to find the outburst coming from Alan. She had seen him only rarely and spoken to him even less since his wedding to Fiona.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Alan. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘You’re not. I’m disturbed already.’
‘Can I do anything to help?’ she asked, glancing round the shed and seeing nothing amiss. ‘Or shall I get out of your way?’
‘Do as you please,’ Alan shouted. Jeannie turned as though to go. ‘No, don’t go… please don’t go,’ he added in a quieter voice.
‘Actually I was looking for Tam. We were meant to be walking over the hills to check on sheep.’
‘Well, he’s no’ here. Alec Meikle’s no’ so well, so Tam’s away up the valley to check on the wee pheasants.’
‘Well, thank you, Tam. Thanks for letting me know,’ Jeannie muttered under her breath. ‘I could have done something better with my time.’
‘You still could. You could stay and talk to me.’
Jeannie regarded him with suspicion, uncertain what might happen if she stayed.
‘It’s OK. I’m a happily married man now,’ he said in a voice that sounded anything but happy. ‘You’re perfectly safe with me.’
She glanced around. There was nowhere to sit.
‘Just give me a minute.’ He delved
into a box of tools, then, changing his mind, straightened up again. ‘I was going to walk out to some of the sheep myself. Do you fancy coming with me?’
‘Aye, I might as well, seeing as Tam won’t be here.’
Alan went to the door of the barn and held it open for her.
‘So, how’s married life?’ Jeannie began cheerfully as they set off across the farmyard and onto the rough grass.
Alan looked at her as though deliberating what to say.
‘She’s tricked me.’
‘What do you mean, “tricked you”?’
‘She’s not having a baby.’
Jeannie stood still and stared at Alan. ‘You mean she’s lost the baby?’
‘No, I mean there never was one. Oh, she says that she thought she was pregnant but now she realises she was mistaken, but I don’t believe her.’ His voice rose in anger. ‘I don’t believe what she says. I think she said it so I would agree to marry her.’ He gazed at Jeannie fiercely, as though daring her to disagree.
She took a step away. ‘I don’t know, Alan. I don’t ken Fiona well.’ She frowned. ‘How is she? I mean, does she seem upset?’
‘Not particularly. Oh, she puts it on when I raise the subject – weepy and snivelling and suchlike. But she’s happy enough at being married.’
‘But isn’t it what you wanted too?’
‘Only because I thought I’d no choice. I mean, what do you think? That night of the dance – it was the first time I’d danced with her. If only you had come in at a decent time instead of when it was nearly over, I would never have taken up with her.’
‘But I went because Tam invited me. You would have had to fight him off, just like he fought Neil off.’
Alan sniffed. ‘I don’t think my younger brother would have been any match for me.’
‘And what about me? Don’t I get a say in this? I agreed to see Tam at the dance because I’d met him in the market and liked what I saw.’
‘Well, all I can say is that you didn’t do too much complaining that evening you found me in the barn.’
Jeannie coloured. ‘That was a mistake, Alan, and you know it. I was missing Tam and, well, I suppose I welcomed the attention. I feel bad about what happened.’
‘Well, thanks for the compliment! If that’s how you feel, I suggest you leave now.’ Alan nodded into the distance. ‘And if I’m not mistaken, that looks like my brother on his way back. I’d better make myself scarce or he might try and fight me off… and who’s to say which of us would win.’ Alan swung away from her and made off across the field. ‘Who would you really like to win,’ he called. ‘Come on, Jeannie, be honest. Are you sure you’d rather be with him?’
Jeannie stared at Alan’s retreating figure, conscious that she may be losing something precious, something that his brother would never be able to give her.
*
‘What’s going on?’ Tam said, as he came close. ‘What are you doing out here with Alan?’
‘We made an arrangement, in case you’d forgotten. Alan’s going up yonder hill to check on the sheep. You didn’t think to call at the farm and let me know you were going to the pheasants?’
‘Look, I’m sorry, sweetheart. It completely slipped my mind, with Alec asking at the last minute if I’d lend a hand.’ Tam glanced in the direction his brother had gone. ‘But what were you doing with my brother?’
‘I was going with him to check on the sheep for you. Do you have a problem with that?’ Jeannie glared at him fiercely and he shut his mouth, swallowing the words he was about to say. ‘Are we going then, or shall I walk home again?’ Jeannie continued.
‘No, I’m sorry, lass. Let’s walk.’ Tam took her hand and they set out along the track. ‘So, what was he saying to you?’
‘Tam! Does it really matter? The point is, he was talking – which is more than you do.’ Jeannie stopped again and fixed her eyes on him. ‘Do you know, Tam, it’s nine months since I first met you and I still have no idea what goes on in that head of yours.’
‘It’s no use me apologising again,’ Tam shrugged. ‘I suppose it’s just the way I am. Come to think of it, it runs in the family. It’s how my mother was, especially after my sister died. She never said much at all after that happened.’ He stopped short, staring at the ground.
A wave of shock passed through Jeannie, leaving her breathless. ‘You didn’t tell me you had a sister’, she gasped.
‘No. Well, like I said, she died,’ he muttered. He looked up then, at the sky, took a couple of steps and stopped. A deep sigh escaped his lips. ‘OK. I’ll try and talk,’ he said almost angrily. ‘She was only two, my wee sister. She took ill one night and died. We were best pals, her and me. I don’t remember much about it – I was just short of four years old myself. But I do remember her dying. There was a lot of snow that year, a bit like it has been this winter. It was days before we could bury her. She lay in a wee coffin in the bedroom while we waited for the snow to melt.’
Jeannie glanced at him, tears welling in her eyes. ‘What was her name?’
‘Elizabeth.’
‘Elizabeth. I’m sorry, Tam. I didn’t know.’
‘I always felt to blame. I should have looked after her better.’
Jeannie took a breath to say something but thought better of it. Tam started to walk and Jeannie followed, climbing steadily, until they were walking along the crest of the hill. There Tam stopped and stared back the way they had come. The river, sparkling in the sun, wove through the base of the valley. The bubbling call of a curlew came to them from a field near the river. Having started this revelation of his earlier days, it seemed he was anxious to continue.
‘And this is where I was standing when I last saw my mother – the day we lost her. We were all out searching – my dad, my brother and me. I had climbed up here for a better view. I was walking along this rim, looking down. Then I saw a dark shape down by the river. I started to run down the hill. A couple of times I fell headlong in the snow. It was difficult to stay upright. When I reached her, she was cold, frozen in fact.
‘I picked her up,’ he went on, ‘and carried her all the way back home. Of course, it was too late to do anything. She must have been dead for hours… all day, probably.’ He shivered. ‘I don’t know why it happened. Well, at least, I can guess. She was so sad all the time and she never looked after herself. She’d never got over the death of Elizabeth, ken. I wanted her to have another little girl, to make up for losing the first.' He looked away, down the valley. 'But she never did.’
‘Maybe nothing makes up for losing a child,’ Jeannie said softly.
‘No. I expect you’re right.’
*
The ewes looked happy enough, each one large with pregnancy.
‘Two and a half weeks and these will start to lamb,’ Tam said, leaning his elbows on the wall and contemplating the flock.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘Because I know the dates we put the ram up here to have his fun.’ He looked at Jeannie with a smile.
Jeannie came and stood close and leaned her elbows on the wall to match his.
Tam took a deep breath. ‘What do you say to us getting wed, Jeannie?’
‘What brought that about?’ Jeannie laughed a little nervously.
‘Nothing. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.’
‘But didn’t say anything!’
‘No, you’re right as usual. Mind, we’ll have to wait till lambing is past and before clipping starts.’
‘All planned round the sheep, then?’
‘Aye, that’s the way it has to be. So, what do you say?’
There was a long pause. ‘I say yes.’
‘Are you sure about it?’
‘If you keep asking, I might think there’s a catch and change my mind.’
‘No catch. We’ll be wed at the beginning of July.’
Three months then until her future would be determined. Three months in which she could yet change her mind.
31. Visitors
April 1940
‘That’s the third time now that there’s been an attack on Scapa Flow. This whole war is getting much too close for comfort.’
Jeannie, entering the back porch with a lamb tucked securely under her arm, stopped dead in her tracks. It was not so much the subject matter, for that had been heard on the radio and discussed over breakfast on several occasions, as the collision of her present with her past. The voice was that of her father. She put her head round the door. Both her parents were sitting at the table with Rob and Agnes.
‘Father, Mother, what a lovely surprise!’ she said without much conviction, going forward to embrace her mother. In truth, it was hardly a surprise. Tam had written to her father requesting permission to marry Jeannie. There was a prompt reply suggesting strongly that the young couple pay a visit to her parents the following week. This was demonstrably out of the question, lambing being in full swing, and Jeannie had written to tell them so. The result was this sudden visitation.
‘Jeannie. You look well.’ Her mother surveyed her from head to foot – scarf tied round her head to stem the flow of exuberant curls, muddy breeches, muddier boots and, the greatest sin of all, dirt under her fingernails.
Jeannie kissed her mother. ‘Thank you, Mother. I am well. Father! How lovely to see you.’
‘Yes, well, we thought we had better pay you a visit, seeing that you are so reluctant to visit us.’
‘I told you, Father, we have been very busy with lambing and Tam’s are later than here, so he’s still in the thick of it. The lambs won’t wait to be born while we have a weekend off.’
‘Yes, Jeannie,’ said her mother. ‘We know that. But, let’s face it, you’re only here as an extra pair of hands.’
‘A pair of hands that have now delivered so many lambs I’ve lost count, including several sets of twins,’ Rob emphasised. ‘Excuse me for interrupting, but we couldn’t have managed without her.’
