God's Acre

by Dee Yates

  He knew Jeannie would not have kept up the pace at which she had left the farm and, sure enough, he soon saw her figure in the distance, hurrying, though no longer running, along the farm track. He called out to her, but she didn’t hear him at first and he called again when he was closer. She spun round, a look of alarm on her face, which quickly changed to a smile.

  ‘Tam, you’re back! I didnae see you.’

  ‘Yes, I’m back. I came expecting to see you, but not in the barn with my brother.’

  Jeannie’s face paled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean I saw you leaving the barn and, when I went in, there was my brother. You were in there with him, so don’t deny it.’

  ‘Well, we’re going to be related in a week. Is it so surprising that while I was in there I was chatting to him? What was I meant to do – ignore him?’

  ‘He didnae look as though you had just been chatting. He looked flustered – upset even. What had you been chatting about?’

  ‘Nothing. Well, he was a bit upset – but you wouldn’t expect me to tell you what he was upset about.’ Jeannie drew her shoulders back and stared at him defiantly. ‘That would be breaking a confidence.’ She hesitated and then continued as though with an effort, ‘You don’t believe me, do you? Maybe… maybe we shouldnae be getting married at all, if that’s how you feel.’ She turned on her heel and began to run, her breath coming in jagged sobs.

  Tam stared at her departing figure. Should he let her go and risk losing her forever? Was there something going on between her and his brother and, if so, how far had it gone? His face darkened at the possibility, seeing again Jeannie’s flight from the barn. Or was she actually doing what she had said she was doing – helping his brother out of some difficulty? It would be like her to do that. Look how she had been with the evacuees. It hadn’t been her job to look after them but she had taken it upon herself to do so.

  ‘Jeannie,’ he called. ‘Please come back. I’m sorry I doubted you. Let’s forget it and make up.’

  Jeannie stopped but didn’t turn round. She was still standing looking into the distance when Tam caught up with her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she spun round.

  ‘Why cannae you be more like your brother?’ she spat. ‘Why are you always thinking the worst of me? If this is how we’re going to be when we’re married, then I think I’d rather not bother.’ The pair stared at one another in dismay, Tam with a sinking feeling in his stomach, tears spilling from Jeannie’s eyes. Then she stepped up until their bodies were touching and kissed him. ‘I do love you,’ she said. ‘Let’s not fall out.’ She stepped away and began to run, looking over her shoulder as she did so. ‘I promised Rob I’d milk the cows - can’t keep the ladies waiting any longer. Make sure you’re there on Saturday waiting for me.’

  Tam watched as her figure receded into the distance, then stood a while longer, confused by Jeannie’s sudden changes of mood. He had no desire to return to the farm, where he might find his brother doing whatever he had been doing in the barn, so instead he set off across the moor, climbing the hill to where a stone wall stretched across his path. There, he lowered himself onto the dry grass and leant back against the wall. The late sun was touching the horizon and above him two buzzards were circling slowly, calling to one another. From far and near came the bleat of ewes, calling their lambs to rest. The earth breathed peace, but in Tam’s heart there was no peace. The seeds of doubt that had been sown in his mind refused to go away, but he needed to believe what Jeannie had said. He would accept her explanation and they would be married. He stood at last and, in the evening dusk, trod a lonely path back to the farmhouse.

  33. Prospects

  1999

  The parting instigated by Liz on the ferryboat’s quay lasts no longer than it takes for David to arrive home and ring her. Within two weeks, his intermittent visits have resumed, but the future is as uncertain as ever.

  ‘I like to imagine us living in a little cottage in the Highlands,’ he says. They are covered only with a sheet and he is staring up at the ceiling. She turns to him.

  ‘It would have to be near the sea,’ she murmurs. ‘You wouldn’t like to be too far away from it.’

  ‘I could fish in the lochs.’

  ‘We could go walking in the heather,’ she adds.

  ‘I wonder how life would have turned out if we had met at university,’ he says another time, a rare day when they have driven far into the countryside and are walking at leisure round a reservoir. The sun is shining. Light shimmers on the water.

  ‘Perhaps we would have taken no notice of one another,’ Liz replies. ‘I, for one, was a very different person then.’

  'Me too,' he says. 'I was quite immature, I suppose, when I married. I used to love her once,’ he says of his wife. ‘And I think she still loves me.’

  Liz watches the dark shadow of a cloud pass slowly across the water and shivers.

  Twice during the eleven years that Liz lives in the cottage, he stays the night. On the second occasion he succeeds in ruining the evening.

  From his coat pocket he withdraws a letter. He is sitting on the rug in front of the fire and she is seated behind him, legs curled up in the chair and can’t see his face. The letter is a job description… for a vacancy in Devon. She stares at the back of his head.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ She has the familiar sinking feeling that regularly accompanies their conversations now.

  ‘I can’t stay where I am. I’ve got to do something.’

  ‘But… Devon? Why there?’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing to keep me where I am.’

  What about me? she screams inside.

  ‘I need to move to a place where I can further my career. I’m going to get nowhere staying where I am.’

  ‘But I shan’t see you.’ She curses herself for the lameness of the statement.

  ‘It’s not impossible for me to come and see you.’

  ‘From Devon?’

  ‘I don’t suppose it will come to anything. I probably shan’t apply at any rate.’

  That’s not the point, she thinks. The point is that he can even consider it. And send for the job description. And tell her afterwards.

  Devon.

  He leans back on the arm of the chair, looks at the firelight glow on the spines of the books filling the shelves. Changes the subject. ‘I love your little cottage, Liz. I always knew you’d be happy in it.’

  ‘I’d be happier if you were here as well.’

  ‘You’d never be able to fit all my books in. Anyway, you wouldn’t be able to put up with my moods.’

  ‘I’d be the best judge of that.’ Knowing that he may well be right.

  ‘Let’s not fall out about it.’ That or anything. He can’t stand an argument.

  34. A Second Wedding

  July 1940

  Laird’s House

  Partick

  30th June 1940

  My dear Jeannie,

  I am so sorry that we will not be able to be with you for your wedding on Saturday. Your Uncle Cameron has had another episode of chest pain and the doctor is sure it is his heart. He has told him that he must have absolute rest and that travelling is out of the question. I do not feel he is well enough to leave on his own, so unfortunately neither of us will be able to come.

  However, we want to send our very best wishes for your wedding and for your happiness in the future. Please pass on our best wishes to Tam. I know you have written in the past expressing doubts about whether you are doing the right thing. Believe me, doubts at this stage of the proceedings are very common. I remember having them myself before my marriage and yet your uncle and I have had a very happy life together. Enclosed is a small token of our love, to spend on whatever is most needed.

  Do come and see us if you are able. Bring Tam if he is free. If not, come by yourself. We do miss you very much indeed.

  With much love from,

  Uncle Cameron and Auntie Christine. xx

  *


  It was very like déjà vu, seeing everyone in the church, dressed up in their finery, only this time the weather was more suited to the type of things they had chosen to wear. And it was Jeannie that was coming into church, but on the arm of Rob Cunningham, her father having refused to give his daughter away and declined even to attend the ceremony. She was grateful to Rob and angry with her parents for their lack of support – angry and hurt. But most of all she was anxious that she might be making a huge mistake in marrying Tam and that she didn’t love him enough. She hoped Auntie Christine was right. Maybe all girls felt like this on their wedding day.

  Their guests looked at her and smiled as she passed, for she looked lovely in her white dress, against which her hair stood out as though on fire. Behind her, Ian and Malcolm processed as page boys. Agnes had found two child-sized kilts that had been Neil’s and she had adapted these for the two boys, both of whom looked proud and happy to be given such responsibility, but Jeannie had eyes only for the two brothers standing side by side at the front. This time it was Tam who was waiting at the steps for his bride. Alan kept his gaze averted as she approached, but Tam turned to look at her and smiled.

  Her nervousness, which Tam’s smile had done much to dispel, mounted again later in the day as the speeches began. When it was Alan’s turn, she was frozen with panic, in case he should say something indiscreet. She had not spoken to him since that day in the barn. He stood up and smiled at the guests.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the bridegroom’s job is to speak on behalf of the bridesmaids. Jeannie, never one for protocol, has chosen to have pageboys. Ian and Malcolm are with Rob and Agnes for the second time and I think it is fair to say that Jeannie has taken them under her wing and is doing a very good job as a second mother while they are away from home. If nothing else, this will be good practice for when she and Tam have their own children.

  ‘Tam is a lucky man. He has a beautiful and caring wife. I wonder if he realises how headstrong she is! Tam, you will have your work cut out with this one! Unfortunately – or fortunately – I am going away for a while, so won’t be around to see the sparks fly!

  ‘Let us raise a glass to the happy couple and to the Glasgow laddies who are making the community a livelier place.’

  He is doing what he said he would do, thought Jeannie. He is going to enlist. It’s probably for the best. No, that’s a selfish thing to say. It’s probably the best for me. I couldn’t bear to see him around looking at me, judging me, him unhappy in his own marriage.

  ‘Jeannie! Congratulations!’ Jeannie started and turned to see Alan’s wife Fiona. ‘That was an interesting speech my husband gave – complimentary in places, but he’s obviously been observing you closely to know what he does of your character!’

  ‘Aye. I suppose I am a bit headstrong. That’s why my parents aren’t here. They don’t agree at all that I should be marrying. Anyway, Fiona, how are you? I hardly seem to see you, now you’re up in the village. Er… I was sorry to hear that you’d lost the baby.’

  ‘Thanks, Jeannie, though it was probably for the best in the circumstances.’

  ‘You mean Alan saying he was going away. Where’s he going?’

  ‘He’s going to enlist. Didn’t you know? Oh, but I think he only told his dad and brother last night and I suppose you weren’t there.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘He thinks he should because Tam’s been turned down and his dad can manage without both of them, especially now they have you.’

  ‘Except that I shall still be working for Mr Cunningham during the day. But, you’re right, at least I shall be there to cook and clean and no doubt help a bit on the farm.’ She paused and swallowed. ‘When’s he going?’

  ‘He has an interview next week. All being well, he’ll be off by next weekend.’

  ‘You don’t seem too upset.’

  Fiona shrugged. ‘Well, there’s nothing like a man in a smart uniform to spice up an ailing marriage. Does that surprise you, me and him? Maybe not. Anyway, Jeannie, I’m sure you’ll be very happy with the man you’ve chosen, uniform or not.’

  *

  Within a week, sheep clipping was underway at Rob’s and a week later at Douglas’s. Every ounce of energy was needed for the hard work of gathering, clipping, rolling the wool, and then dipping and sending the sheep denuded and happy back to their usual grazing place. At the same time, Alan received his call-up papers. Jeannie stood with Tam and her father-in-law, watching as he walked away down the track to pick up Fiona who was going with him to the station. He paused once, turned and waved, and walked on – Jeannie quickly brushed the tears from her eyes, but not before her husband caught the stricken look on her face at Alan’s departure.

  *

  With Alan gone, most of his share of the work fell on Tam’s shoulders. His father, older now and plagued with the rheumatics, was not strong enough to take on much of the extra burden. Clipping of the sheep progressed even more slowly than usual and even at the end of August there were still a few on the hill waiting to be shorn. The early storms meant that the sheep were in poor condition and this resulted in less wool than usual. Tam’s concern over the future of the farm mounted – sheep lost, the rest in poor condition, less lambs than usual. Where would it all end?

  It was becoming clear that Jeannie was needed more at McColl’s farm than she was at Cunninghams’. It was Rob who approached her one day.

  ‘It’s not that I want to lose you, lass, but it bothers me that your husband has more than he can cope with at his dad’s farm. Can I make the suggestion that you go and work with him and I apply to get another land girl? I was thinking of getting a second one anyway, as we have a fairly big set-up here, so I’ll likely apply for two.’

  Unexpected tears welled up suddenly in Jeannie’s eyes. ‘Oh, would you mind, Mr Cunningham? That would be a huge relief. Tam is working so hard, I’m quite worried about him.’ She sat down suddenly and, putting her head in her hands, began to sob.

  ‘There, there, lassie. It’s not that bad. Tam’s a strong lad. And you’ve learned a lot here, so you’ll be a godsend.’

  ‘I know and I’m very grateful. It’s just that he’s so tired and I’m so tired and… well, it’s not the best way to start married life.’

  Agnes left the pile of ironing with which she had been occupied and came over to Jeannie, putting an arm round her shoulder. She looked at her keenly. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else that’s bothering you? It’s not like you to be tired. You’ve usually got the energy for all of us.’

  ‘No, nothing else. You’ve both been very kind to me – more like parents to me than my own, I’m ashamed to say. I shall miss working for you, though it will be good to be able to work with Tam. It seems as though I’ve hardly seen him since we were wed.’

  ‘Then, what I suggest,’ said Rob, ‘is that you go home tonight and surprise him by saying you’re home to stay. Neil and I can manage for a few days while I arrange for some more help, is that no’ right, Neil,’ he said to his son, who had that moment entered the kitchen.

  ‘Aye, we’ll manage. It’s a case of having to,’ Neil said. ‘But let’s hope your decision doesn’t come back to haunt you.’ He walked from the room before anyone had a chance to ask him what he meant.

  ‘Take no notice of him,’ Rob said. ‘He’s only sore because he hasn’t won you himself. So, lass, go and tell your husband the good news, but don’t forget to come and see us. We’ll miss your smiling face.’ He put his arm round Jeannie and gave her a firm hug. Agnes did the same and Jeannie went on her way to tell Tam her news.

  35. Comings and Goings

  August 1940

  ‘You’re early.’ Tam glanced at Jeannie as she put her head round the door of the barn. The floor was swept clean of its debris of straw and wool and the clippers hung neatly on the wall, together with the other farm implements.

  ‘Goodness!’ exclaimed Jeannie. ‘This looks amazing. You have been busy.’ She went over to him
and lifted her face to kiss her husband.

  ‘I’m not the only one,’ he muttered and turned away from her to take his jacket from where it hung on a nail by the door.

  Jeannie’s heart clenched. ‘What do you mean? Have I done something wrong?’

  ‘You tell me.’ Tam reached into his pocket and retrieved a gold chain on which hung a letter J. Jeannie reached her hand instinctively to her throat.

  ‘That’s my necklace. I lost it a while ago. Where did you find it?’

  ‘You lost it before ever we were married because you weren’t wearing it on our wedding day. Where did I find it? Over there on the floor of the barn, in among the old straw. What I want to know is, how did it get there?’

  Jeannie’s heart began to race, but she forced herself to stay calm. ‘I suppose it must have come loose when I was tidying up in here.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Tam said in a raised voice which made her jump. ‘You don’t tidy up in here. This barn hasn’t been touched for months. So just what were you doing in here that made you lose your necklace?’

  ‘I can’t remember. I’ve hardly been in here. At least… your brother might have been chatting to me in here that time you kept me waiting. Maybe that’s when I lost it.’ She put her hand to her throat again. ‘Yes, that’s when it must have been. Why, Tam, what’s the matter? What are you suggesting?’

  ‘I’m no’ suggesting anything, though I’m remembering that time I got back from the pheasants and found the two of you together.’

  ‘I seem to remember I was waiting for you to come back. How dare you accuse me when you’ve no idea.’ Jeannie turned on her heel and walked swiftly to the door of the barn.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  ‘I’m going for a walk. Don’t bother to follow me.’