When the Heather Blooms

by Gwen Kirkwood

  Fraser and Lachlan were washing their hands ready for tea when Peter returned to the kitchen.

  ‘Hi chum,’ Fraser grinned, slapping him on the back, ‘it’s good to see you again. I hoped you’d be here before Saturday. We’re having a farm walk and there’s a Young Farmers’ dance afterwards.’

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to be working on Saturday?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘I was. I’ve swapped with Jocky.

  ‘Hi Peter,’ Lachlan joined them, still drying his hands, his grin spreading from ear to ear. ‘Are you for a game of football after tea? I’ve been practising.’

  ‘For goodness sake, Lachie, give Peter a chance to get here before you pester him,’ Victoria chided, but Peter was pleased to see his cousins and grateful for their welcome.

  Billy and Libby greeted him with the same warmth as the rest of the family but after the evening meal was cleared away the conversation turned serious.

  ‘Are you just here for the summer holidays, Peter?’ Billy asked with a smile, ‘or have you decided farming is the life for you?’

  ‘I-I don’t know,’ Peter said unhappily. ‘I know what I want, b-but this morning …’ he gulped over the lump in his throat, ‘before I left my stepfather told me there’s no place for me under his roof unless I study medicine. He says he’s supported me long enough and Dinah wants a worthwhile profession so she will make better use of the money Mother had set aside.’ There was a stunned silence. They all stared at him.

  ‘He wouldn’t mean that,’ Victoria said. ‘I expect he’s disappointed.’

  ‘He does mean it. He says I can have until the end of the summer holidays to make up my mind; unless I toe the line I’ve to collect the rest of my things and leave his house for good.’

  ‘That’s awful!’ Libby gasped. ‘He can’t threaten Peter like that, can he Mum?’

  ‘I don’t know, lassie.’ Victoria’s face was troubled. She looked Peter in the eye. ‘I’m so glad your mother found the courage to go against his wishes and send for me before she died. I suppose you know he did his best to cut us out of her life after your father died.’

  ‘That’s all in the past,’ Andrew intervened. ‘You’re here now, laddie, and we’re pleased to have you. You have all summer to make up your mind. Victoria and I have discussed what we’re prepared to do to help you. You’d better discuss our suggestion with Libby. We made sure she knew what hard work farming involved before she went to college. We wanted her to be sure too.’ Peter met Libby’s eyes, his dark brows raised.

  ‘It’s true, Peter,’ Libby nodded. ‘Some of the work is hard, but I was prepared for that and I knew it was the life I wanted.’

  ‘It’s what I want too.’

  ‘In that case I propose to set you to work, like Fraser and Jocky Conley and Jem Wright. You’ll work alongside them and learn to do whatever jobs are needed. No shirking or taking a day off when you feel tired. Farming isn’t like that. Animals still need to be fed, cows still need to be milked, even if you have been up half the night helping one of them to calve.’

  ‘That’s what Uncle Willie said about the lambs,’ Peter said. ‘Does that mean you’ll let me do proper farm work, Uncle Andrew?’

  ‘Aye, laddie. We’ll probably give you more to do than you want, but when it comes to the end of the summer, you can tell us whether you want to carry on, or go back to Edinburgh and have a profession. There’ll be no hard feelings whatever you decide. You’ll still be welcome whenever you want to come for a holiday, won’t he?’

  ‘Of course he’ll always be welcome,’ Victoria said.

  ‘But right now this is a business arrangement,’ Andrew went on. ‘You’ll start work on Monday. We’re busy with the hay so there’s plenty to do. You’ll need to learn to drive the tractors. We’ll pay you a wage and deduct your board and lodging as it says in government schedule.’

  ‘You’ll pay me? Even though I’m learning?’ Peter asked incredulously.

  ‘Of course we’ll pay you. The agricultural rate for a man is seven pounds eighteen shillings and five pence for a forty-seven hour week. It will be a bit less for a seventeen-year-old, and as I said we’ll deduct board and lodging. If you work for Willie or for Billy then they must pay you. As I said, Peter, this is a business deal and it’ll be hard work. When you’ve had enough it will be up to you to admit it. If you do decide it’s the life you want by the end of the summer, we’ll find you work for a couple of years. The experience will be good for you. I know Willie would be glad to employ you for a few weeks when he’s lambing, and for the shearing, but he couldn’t afford to employ a boy all year round. Maybe Billy will give you some work too when his men are on holiday?’

  ‘I could certainly do that,’ Billy nodded.

  ‘The broader your experience the better it will be for you. If you save your money for the next two years I reckon you’ll be able to pay your own college fees if you can get one of the new grants. You’ll be independent of everybody, including your stepfather.’

  ‘I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe,’ Peter exclaimed, his dark eyes shining. He looked young and eager now; the weary look had vanished, along with the invisible burden which had seemed to weigh him down. ‘I-I can’t tell you how unhappy I’ve been these past few weeks.’

  ‘Well laddie, we’ll do all we can, but you have to be honest with us if you change your mind. I’ve one thing to ask in return, and that applies to all of you,’ he looked at Lachie and Fraser, ‘and that’s to consider your mother. You’ll know we’re expecting another wee bairn in August, Peter?’

  ‘Ye-es.’ Peter blushed. ‘I didn’t know when …’

  ‘Och, never mind about me,’ Victoria said, feeling embarrassed. ‘There’s the cottage to think about too. We must get another tenant. I shall be putting the rent aside for you, Peter. Billy, do you want any more of your mother’s furniture out of Ivy Cottage before we let it?’

  ‘I think we’ve taken out all the things we want to keep, haven’t we, sweetheart?’ He smiled at Libby.

  ‘Yes, we have, but Mum, if you could hang on for a couple of weeks? You remember Alma? She’s coming up for an interview at the creamery. I told Mr Whitworth she’s looking for a job away from the city. I’m almost sure she’ll get it. She’s had the same training as I had from Miss Cuttle. She’d be ideal and I wouldn’t feel I was letting Mr Whitworth down either.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re giving up working then?’ Victoria asked.

  ‘Yes, at the end of the summer. I’ve agreed to stay until my successor gets into the routine.’

  ‘About time too,’ Andrew said. ‘Billy has been very patient.’

  ‘Mmm? He’s already handing over the calf sketching and the pedigrees, as well as the accounts,’ Libby said darkly.

  ‘And helping me with the relief milking when Arthur Williams and young Robbie Dunlop have their weekends off,’ Billy said with a grin.

  Peter made the most of his few days of freedom, joining Lachie and Mimi, catching up on the changes since Easter, marvelling how fast some of the young animals had grown. He went over to High Bowie and walked to the highest peak with Willie, eager to gaze on the panorama which he remembered from his last visit. He listened to advice on what to look for in a good lamb ready for market and helped Willie catch some of them, feeling their rumps and the thickness of their fleeces and their supple skins.

  ‘That laddie has a thirst for knowledge,’ Willie said later that evening.

  Mimi returned to Langmune with Peter. He hitched her up on his back to give her a piggyback across the burn. He noticed she had started wearing slacks now instead of her cotton skirts and ankle socks. He wondered if she was growing conscious of her lame leg and he felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was such a lively sprite. Her father had told him she tired easily so he never took her to the top of the rough, steep hill at High Bowie. Peter suspected it was a warning to him not to encourage her. He thought Mimi’s parents were almost overprotective but he was beginning to sus
pect their ten-year-old daughter would have enough determination to conquer Everest if she set her mind to it. He had seen the way she clenched her teeth and thrust out her little pointed chin when she was struggling to keep up with Lachlan, but she had such a sunny nature she seemed to make the world a brighter place, especially after the atmosphere he had left behind in the house in Edinburgh. He paused, forgetting he was in the middle of the burn with one foot on the large stepping stone and the other on the opposite bank.

  Mimi squealed; her soft arms tightened around his neck and her fair curls brushed his cheek as she clung to him.

  ‘Don’t you dare drop me in the middle of the burn, Peter Sterling!’

  ‘Such a thing had never entered my head,’ he grinned. ‘At least not until you put it there.’ He pretended to drop her and her arms nearly throttled him. ‘I was admiring the water. It’s crystal clear as it comes tinkling over the stones.’ He stepped out of the burn and set her down on the grassy bank.

  ‘It’s not always like this. You should see it when it floods.’ She shuddered. ‘It comes right up over the sides so you’d think it was boiling, and it’s red with soil washed from further up. It would sweep you away. Even Daddy and Uncle Andrew go down to the new bridge to cross when the water is high.’

  ‘I’ll remember,’ Peter said, smiling down at her serious face. ‘Today the burn is singing to us.’ He bent to pick a flower. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are to have such beauty around you every day.’ Mimi looked up at him and then down at the grass and flowers around their feet. She frowned.

  ‘Don’t you have flowers in a city?’

  ‘In gardens we do, but just look at that blue vetch climbing up the hedge. It’s a heavenly blue, just like your eyes. Then there’s the pink campion over there, and the scent of the honeysuckle is wonderful.’ He breathed in and Mimi did the same.

  ‘Mmm, it smells nice. I suppose we’re so used to it we don’t think about it.’

  ‘What’s the golden flower beside the water?’

  ‘Golden? Mmm, I suppose they are gold. We have masses of them in the spring. They’re nearly over now. It’s a kingcup. Daddy calls it Luckan Gowan. Aunt Victoria knows the names of most flowers and the birds, and Libby and Billy have lots of books. I always go to Libby if I’m stuck with my lessons for school.’

  ‘I’d like to know all about the flowers. I shall ask Libby if she has a good book I can borrow.’

  ‘I do hope you like it here, Peter. Daddy says you may be able to get a job as a manager if you go to college and he says you’ll learn a lot from Uncle Andrew.’

  ‘Oh I intend to stay, if Uncle Andrew will have me. It will take more than hard work to sicken me, and everybody is so friendly and happy.’

  ‘Doctor Ritchie says people should be happy and count their blessings. I think he means I should forget my wonky old leg, but sometimes I can’t forget when I can’t keep up or run as fast as everybody else. He says I have other things to make up.’

  ‘He’s right about that,’ Peter nodded. ‘You have the sunniest smile I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Mmm, that’s because I’m happy. I don’t want to live anywhere else, not ever.’ She raised her small innocent face to his. ‘Mummy says I must work hard at school and then I can go to college and be a teacher, or something like that, but I don’t think I’d like to stay inside all day when the sun is shining, or when the lambs are being born.’

  ‘You’ve a long time before you need to decide,’ Peter comforted. ‘When I was ten I never dreamed I’d want to live in the country and look after animals. It was after I went on a visit to the zoo with a friend from school. When I got my bicycle I cycled there whenever I could get away. Some of the keepers let me help.’

  ‘But Daddy says you’re clever at your lessons too. Lachlan is too, but don’t tell him I said so.’ She grinned and looked up at Peter, her blue eyes sparkling conspiratorially. ‘He’s not sure whether he wants to be a farmer though and Uncle Andrew bought Throstlebrae Farm so that he and Fraser can have a farm each.’

  ‘What would Lachie like to do then?’

  ‘Och, he doesna know. Daddy says he’ll end up being a farmer when he comes to his senses.’ She shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘Come on, it’s tea time and Aunt Victoria might have rhubarb pie. She’s promised to show me how to make it but Mummy says I’ve not to pester her until she gets the new baby. Look there’s wild roses. Do you like them? They have big scarlet hips later on. Libby says they glow like rubies but I’ve never seen a ruby.’

  ‘I like all the flowers, even the dandelions and buttercups and daisies.’

  ‘Sometimes we sing a song about them at Sunday School.

  Daisies are our silver, buttercups our gold,

  These are all the treasures we can have or hold.’

  She sang in her clear melodious voice.

  ‘That’s lovely, Mimi!’ She flushed with pleasure and gave him a shy smile.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘I’m afraid we’ve thrown you in at the deep end, laddie,’ Andrew smiled as he looked at the rivulets of sweat carving paths through the dust on Peter’s face. He wiped his own brow with a dusty hand, leaving a dirty streak down his cheek. ‘We can’t miss a chance to get in the hay while the weather is good.’

  ‘I love the scent of new-mown hay.’ Peter breathed in deeply. ‘It’s worth the toil and it’s satisfying to see the stack of bales getting higher.’

  ‘Aye, it’s a lot quicker now we have a baler instead of making it all into wee haycocks, and then into bigger ones as it dried. After that we’d to load it onto carts and get it into the sheds or into stacks. Things are easier than they used to be, but it’s still hard work. Billy has made some of his grass into silage this year. He reckons it doesn’t depend on the weather as much as hay. He’s dug out a pit and lined it with concrete panels. We’ll go down there one evening when we’ve finished the hay. I like to see what’s going on and whether it’s an improvement. Never think you know it all in farming, laddie. Things are always changing since the war. Learn all you can whenever you get the chance.’

  ‘I doubt if I shall ever know half the things I need to be a farmer,’ Peter sighed. ‘I’d no idea there was so much to learn.’

  ‘Och, next year at this time you’ll be doing it as though you’ve done it all your life. Some things come instinctively, like when a cow will have her calf. Other things need practise, like you driving the tractor and trailer whenever you’ve a bit o’ spare time. Practise the reversing. Aah, here comes Jocky with another load. We’d better get on. It’ll be dark before we know it.’

  Dark? Peter smiled knowing his stepfather would think he was crazy to contemplate a life like this. It barely seemed to be dark at all with the long summer evenings and the birds heralding the dawn at four o’clock in the morning. During his first week he had fallen into bed exhausted and aching in every limb but already his muscles were hardening as his strength increased. He couldn’t believe how hungry he was by midday. Now he understood why Fraser was always ravenous and yet he remained so lean.

  As soon as the hay was in at Langmune, Andrew despatched Fraser with the tractor and baler to High Bowie to bale the hay which Willie had already cut and raked into rows for lifting. He insisted on paying Andrew for the use of his man and machine.

  ‘You can go with Fraser if you like, Peter, unless you’re sick of loading bales onto trailers and stacking them in heaps?’

  ‘I’d be happy to go to High Bowie,’ Peter grinned. ‘I’m just getting my muscles.’ He flexed his arm to see how big his muscles would bulge.

  ‘Aye, ye’re hardier than I expected,’ Andrew smiled. ‘You’re doing all right.’

  ‘Can I go to High Bowie?’ Lachie pleaded.

  ‘All right,’ Andrew agreed. He looked at Victoria. ‘It will do you good to have a rest from feeding everybody in this hot weather.’ She nodded. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so tired and ungainly. She longed for this birth to be over but she was dreading g
oing to hospital. Doctor Burns had been insistent, though.

  ‘I think Lachie and Peter had better go across the burn,’ Andrew said. ‘It’s not safe for all of you on the tractor.’

  ‘Oh, but Dad …’

  ‘You heard what I said,’ Andrew warned. ‘If you get away now you’ll be at High Bowie by the time Fraser drives the tractor and baler round by the bridge and back up the track.’

  ‘Come on then, Lachie,’ Peter grinned at his young cousin. ‘I’ll give you a piggyback across the burn.’

  ‘With those long legs I should think you could nearly stride across it, Peter,’ Victoria smiled. ‘Your father was tall but I think you’re already taller than he was.’

  ‘I’m five foot eleven, half an inch taller than Fraser.’ He chuckled, a deep warm sound for a gangly youth. ‘Jocky Conley measured us last week to solve an argument – a friendly debate,’ he corrected, his smile widening. It was one of the things he enjoyed about staying at Langmune, even arguments were friendly and there was never the sombre atmosphere and grim expressions that had been so much part of life in the Edinburgh house. He was not yet aware of it but he no longer thought of his stepfather’s house as home.

  At the beginning of August Libby’s friend, Alma, moved into Ivy Cottage and started work at the creamery. Libby had promised Mr Whitworth she would stay on until the end of the month for Alma to get into the routine. After that she would be free to lend a hand when her baby brother or sister was born. Although the techniques were familiar, the routine of the country creamery was different to the large London creamery where Alma had worked. She would be responsible for the chemical and bacteriological testing, from reception of the raw milk to the end product for sale to the public.

  ‘I never even saw the milk coming in, or the bottles of pasteurised milk going out,’ Alma said. ‘I was stuck with checking and testing the processing equipment all day, sterile rinses and strength of detergent solutions and all that stuff. That’s why it was so boring, but this is a bigger responsibility than I realised. I’m grateful for your support, Libby.’