‘When will you stop being so selfish, Willie?’
‘What?’ He stared at her, startled and indignant, but it was a reaction.
‘You heard what I said. Moping about, never speaking, refusing invitations, feeling sorry for yourself, I suppose. You’re not the first man or woman to lose the one you love. You’ll not be the last either.’
‘I ken that.’ He rose from his chair intending to leave.
‘Mimi’s lost her mother. Why are you treating her so cruelly?’ Polly demanded. He turned back and stared at her.
‘Cruel? Cruel to Mimi? I’d never hurt a hair o’ her head.’
‘It’s not her hair I’m talking about,’ Polly snapped. ‘It’s her poor work-worn hands and the way she’s a slave to ye, Willie Pringle. She’s just had her seventeenth birthday and here she is struggling to do a woman’s work. Still lighting up the copper to boil clothes, and a wash tub little better than the posher and peggy tub I used years ago when I was first married. Libby and Victoria and Charlotte all have electric washing machines, aye and they don’t have a range to blacklead and flues to clean before they can cook a Sunday roast, or coals to carry and cows to milk, not to mention looking after the poultry and packing the eggs for the egg man.’
‘Has Mimi been complaining?’ Willie asked. It had crossed his mind that he should give up High Bowie and move to the town and let Mimi finish her education, but he had drifted on, not knowing what else he would do with the rest of his life.
‘Mimi never complains. You should know that. She’s like her mother. Mary never complained either and the lassie is trying to carry on where Mary left off, but Mary was your wife. You made each other happy and it was the life you both wanted. What is Mimi getting out of this life? You don’t even make an effort to take her out for Sunday dinner when the family asks you.’
‘Mimi could go without me …’
‘Ye ken she wouldna leave ye on your own without a Sunday dinner!’ Polly scoffed. ‘Now listen to me, laddie, this is nineteen hundred and sixty-five we’re living in. I get an old age pension now and it’s going up from three pound seven and six a week to four pounds. I can manage fine on that with the help I get with milk and bacon frae Langmune and a bit of lamb now and then frae you. If ye’re that short o’ money I’ll draw out the bit I’ve got put by in the bank. You can have it to buy an electric washer for Mimi, or a cooker like Charlotte has. It never …’
‘God damn it, Mother! I don’t want your money!’ Polly kept her head lowered and pressed her lips together. She thought that might sting his pride. There was silence. Polly raised her head a little to peep at him. She was dismayed and filled with remorse. Willie was holding his head in his hands; she wondered if he was weeping. She got to her feet and moved round the table to his side. Tentatively she stroked the thin strands of hair.
‘I’m sorry, laddie. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so – so blunt wi’ ye. I ken ye’re grieving for Mary still.’ Willie sniffed hard and gulped over the lump in his throat, but it was almost his undoing when his mother pulled his head against her bosom and patted his back as she used to do when they were young lads.
‘You’re right,’ he said at last, struggling for control. ‘I’ve been blind, aye and thoughtless, where Mimi’s concerned. I should give up the farm, move into the village …’
‘Oh no, Willie! High Bowie is your life. You’ve worked so hard for it. No …’
‘It’s not the same without Mary. And you’re right about Mimi. This is no life for a lassie, being a drudge on a place like this, away frae her friends and young company.’ Polly chewed her lip. Had she gone too far? Said too much?
‘Mimi wouldn’t want to leave ye wherever ye live, Willie. I’m sure she’ll be happy enough staying here if you could see your way to making her life a bit easier, aye, and maybe accepting some o’ the invitations. They’ll stop asking if ye never accept.’ Willie was silent for a while, thinking, and then he lifted his head and straightened in his chair. He turned to look his mother in the eye.
‘Did you walk over here specially to get me back on the road?’ There was a light in his eye, not the old twinkle, not yet, nor quite his old smile either, but a relaxing of his mouth. He shook his head several times. ‘I can’t believe how blind I’ve been.’
‘Can ye afford to make things a bit easier for the lassie?’ Polly asked.
‘Aye, I can afford it. We’ve always put a bit by for a rainy day, ever since the first year when we couldn’t find the rent.’ He shuddered at the memory.
‘That was when Mary was so ill though, before Mimi was born.’
‘Aye,’ he nodded. ‘But I wouldn’t touch that. We always said it would go to Mimi if we didn’t need it.’
‘I reckon Mimi would appreciate things to make her life easier now, more than the money in forty years’ time,’ Polly said.
‘Aye, but what I mean is, I don’t need to touch our wee nest egg yet. We both had a life insurance to draw out when we were sixty-five, for our old age, or to pay off the farm if anything happened to us. The land is ours now and neither o’ us thought of anything like this happening. The insurance company paid Mary’s insurance a few weeks ago. It’s in the bank. All I could think was, what good is the money when Mary isna here to benefit?’
‘I think Mary would be pleased to know Mimi was getting the benefit if it makes her life easier, don’t you, Willie?’
‘Aye, I suppose you’re right,’ he sighed. Then he looked up at her with a wry grimace. ‘Mothers are supposed to be right, or so you used to tell us.’ Polly hoped and prayed she had been right over this. For a few minutes back there she had wondered if she had driven Willie right over the edge. She gave his shoulder another pat and went back to her chair.
‘Mimi tells me she’s got a provisional licence to learn to drive the car. She said she would take me home after tea. We’ll not be on the main road. I’d like to see more of her when she’s time to come for a wee visit. After all, I shall be seventy-six soon.’
‘I’ll look into things,’ Willie promised, ‘and I’ll make sure she has time to visit ye, Mother, but we’re getting into the lambing. That always makes us too busy to do much visiting.’
‘Aye, but the lambing will pass, and then you must make time, Willie. I didn’t want to go on living without your father, but here I am – and glad to be here now.’
Later that evening Josh telephoned.
‘Have you been speaking to Mother?’ Willie demanded.
‘Not for a couple of days. Is something wrong?’ Josh asked. ‘Is she ill?’
‘No.’ Willie took a deep breath, knowing he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. ‘She’s fine,’ he said.
‘There’s a couple of things I wanted to ask you, Willie. Charlotte has the Dunnet twins this weekend. Mimi is a grand help at bath time. We wondered if you would both come to lunch on Sunday, before you get too busy with the lambing. I expect Lachie can cope for an hour or two just now?’
‘Uhm … er … ah … Yes, I suppose we could come,’ Willie said without enthusiasm, but mindful of his promise. ‘What else did you want?’ Willie was abrupt, Josh thought, but at least he’d agreed to visit. ‘The other thing concerns Peter. I think he would welcome a bit of advice but he seems afraid of bothering you, and I’m no use to him when it comes to farming. Besides, you’ll know better than anyone, being a sheep man.’
‘I’d say Peter knows just about as much about sheep as I do myself now,’ Willie said. ‘He’s doing well with his few Suffolks anyway.’
‘He’s keeping last season’s ewe lambs for breeding so his numbers are increasing. He said something about the fields getting a build-up of disease. Is that right?’
‘Aye, the lambs thrive better on clean pasture,’ Willie agreed.
‘I often go round the sheep with him at weekends and I try to keep an eye on them during the week. He has a good job at Croston but he would still like to rent a farm of his own, even though it would mean more risk and less money. He’s
a hard worker.’
‘Aye, I ken that. So what’s the problem?’ Willie’s tone was brusque.
‘He’s been offered forty acres of land to rent but the man is already a tenant on the Croston Estate. He’d be subletting. Peter thinks there might be a conflict of interests, him being farm manager and answerable to Mr Stacey. He’s considering grass lets as an alternative but I don’t know about seasonal grazings and growing hay. We’ll see you Sunday then? You’ll talk it over with him?’
‘Fair enough,’ Willie said, ‘Oh, and thank Charlotte for her invitation.’
Chapter Nineteen
Mimi was delighted when her father agreed to visit Uncle Josh. Lachie said he would cook his own lunch; it would be good practise for when he became a student.
She hoped Peter might be there too. She knew from his letters that he went to Lintysmill most days and that he worked with his Suffolks at weekends if they needed dosing, foot trimming, or shearing. Between his own small flock and his work he seemed to have no more free time than she did herself but her heart soared when she saw him standing by the garden fence chatting to Uncle Josh. Behind them Lucy and the twins, Rory and Robin, were romping on the grass.
Charlotte had cooked a delicious dinner with a creamy leek soup, followed by roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with several vegetables, making a colourful pattern on the children’s plates and a game to see who could eat the carrot petals first, and then the cabbage grass. The pudding was a raspberry sponge with custard. Mimi enjoyed it as much as the children.
‘You’re a grand cook, Charlotte,’ Willie remarked. ‘These raspberries taste like fresh ones, but I suppose you bottled them in the summer?’
‘No, they’re from the deep freeze,’ Charlotte told him. ‘That’s a lot easier than bottling. In fact Josh grows so much in the garden we’re going to buy a bigger freezer.’
‘You are? I’ll buy yours for Mimi, if you’re selling it then?’ They all looked at him in astonishment. High Bowie didn’t even have a fridge yet. Willie grimaced, well aware of their reaction. ‘I er … I’m thinking we need to modernise a bit and Mary …’ His voice roughened with emotion, just mentioning her name, ‘She was insured. The money has come through. It’s time Mimi had things a bit more modern.’ He looked across at Mimi’s surprised expression. ‘Your Granny Pringle gave me a long lecture, lassie.’ He gave a glimmer of his old wry smile. ‘Your Uncle Josh is supposed to be the brainbox in the family. We’ll get his ideas and we’ll do it right.’ Mimi couldn’t believe her ears. She caught Peter’s eye. He winked and grinned at her.
Charlotte declined Mimi’s offer to help wash up.
‘You get plenty of that every day. If you take the children into the garden I’ll soon clear away the dishes.’
‘I’ll help Charlotte with the washing up,’ Josh said. ‘I believe Peter wants to pick your brains, Willie.’ He grinned at his older brother, determined to get him involved, ‘and I expect you would like to see how his lambs are coming along?’
‘Aye, I would that. They were born early – January, some of them?’
‘Well, the pedigree Suffolks need to be well grown before the sales,’ Peter said. ‘Josh helped me erect a prefabricated shed. They run in and out and I’ve fed them in there all winter. I’m looking forward to the grass though.’ He grimaced. ‘The feed has cost quite a lot over the last three months. I shall need to sell some at a good price if I’m to break even with them, but I have two good ram lambs, or at least I think they’re good. I’d like your opinion, Uncle Willie?’ Willie looked into Peter’s earnest face.
‘I reckon you’ll be as expert at judging a Suffolk ram as I am by now, laddie; maybe better in fact. And there’s no need for the “Uncle”. Willie will do.’ Peter realised he was being accepted as man to man and he was pleased.
Charlotte and Josh had finished washing up ages ago and were settled before the fire with their feet up, the Sunday paper divided between them, enjoying a rare bit of peace and quiet. Mimi loved amusing the children and they enjoyed having her sole attention. Rory and Robin Dunnet were as familiar with Lintysmill now as they were with their own home. Although they didn’t realise it their mother had a serious blood disorder and frequent visits to hospital were a necessity to prolong her life. She and her husband, John, were eternally grateful to the Pringles for their help with the boisterous twins.
Eventually Josh and Willie came back from their inspection of the sheep. Mimi had seen them standing still, deep in discussion, then strolling on again round the field, gesticulating with their hands now and then. Charlotte set out scones and ginger bread for tea but the moment he had finished Willie said he must be getting home. Mimi’s heart sank.
‘Can Mimi stay to help me bathe the children?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Josh will run her home afterwards.’
‘Please, stay!’
‘Please stay with us, Mimi!’ echoed the childish chorus.
‘All right,’ Willie nodded but Mimi was torn between her father and her longing to stay. ‘You’ll be back before bedtime, lassie. I’d rather not leave Lachie to do everything at High Bowie. I’ll see you later,’ Willie said. He had heard Mimi’s laughter when he and Peter were in the field; he realised it was a long time since she had had reason to laugh. He turned to Josh. ‘Maybe you’ll come up next weekend and give us your ideas on the house?’ He looked around the kitchen. ‘You’ve made a good job of your own. I heard you’d drawn some plans for a couple in the village. Lachie says they’re pleased with your ideas.’
‘I’ll come next Saturday afternoon then,’ Josh nodded. ‘It’s better in daylight.’
Mimi loved helping to bathe the children. All three went into the bath together amidst much splashing and giggling. They were all wrapped in fluffy warm towels and carried downstairs to be dried in front of the sitting-room fire. Peter had stayed too and he and Josh dried the wriggling boys while Mimi dealt with Lucy. Charlotte made supper for them all.
Afterwards, as Mimi had hoped, it was Peter who drove her home.
‘It seems ages since I saw you, Mimi, or had a proper chat.’ He smiled at her. She responded shyly. Peter was very much a man now and an attractive one at that. At twenty-four he was seven years older than her and she wondered whether he still thought of her as a child. When he smiled like that the stirrings in her stomach and the beating of her heart bore no relation to the trusting friendship she had felt for Peter as a child.
‘It seems a lifetime since the dance,’ she sighed.
‘It was fun. There’ll be other chances,’ Peter said. ‘Josh says it’s a big step forward persuading your father to leave High Bowie today.’
‘I think that’s Granny’s influence,’ Mimi admitted, ‘but I’m so glad he listened, both for his sake and mine. I can’t believe he’s going to buy Charlotte’s freezer, or that he’s asked Uncle Josh for ideas about our kitchen.’
‘He has helped me decide what I ought to do with my sheep,’ Peter said. ‘I’m glad he came. I’m not going to rent the forty acres from the Croston tenant now. I was uneasy about that anyway.’
‘Does that mean you’ll need to sell this year’s lambs then, Peter?’
‘Only the ram lambs, I think. Your father knows the owner of Darlonside, the farm which lies between Home Farm and the place where he used to work. It’s a Mr McNay. He’s going to let most of his land for seasonal grazing in the spring. He has two sons and neither of them wants to farm.’
‘It’s an unfair world, isn’t it?’ Mimi said, ‘with you desperate to farm, while they, and Lachie, throw away the opportunity.’
‘There are compensations though,’ Peter grinned and patted her knee, bringing the colour to Mimi’s cheeks. ‘If I get some seasonal grazing, as your father suggests, I would have the use of the land from March to November and I wouldn’t need to worry about fencing or buying fertiliser and a tractor as I would if I rented the forty acres all year round. I could still rest the fields at Lintysmill to keep one fresh for flushing the ewes before
putting them with the ram. The other would be clean for the young lambs. I’ll buy hay as I need it. If I made my own I’d need all the machinery for handling it, then I’d have to cart it in myself. I can’t afford to neglect my job as manager. Mr Stacey is very understanding and so is Sir Gerald when he’s at home, but I don’t want to take advantage.’
‘I’m sure you’d never do that,’ Mimi said.
‘No …?’ he gave her a teasing smile, ‘maybe not over my work.’ He drew the car to a halt at the side of the track leading up to High Bowie, and turned to look at her. ‘I’ve missed you Mimi. We’re such good company together. You’re so easy to talk to and you never pour scorn on my hopes and dreams.’ He lifted one of her hands in both of his. ‘I hear you’re learning to drive?’
‘I’ve got a provisional licence anyway. I don’t know when I shall get any practise. I’ve been up and down the track with Libby twice and once with Lachie, but I’ve never been on the road.’
‘I’m sure you’d manage this little car of mine. D’you think your father would let me take you driving?’
‘I’d be scared of damaging your car, Peter.’ Mimi looked at him wide eyed, but she couldn’t hide her excitement. He grinned at her.
‘It could be fun, don’t you think? It would have to be at weekends though, or in the evenings when the days get longer.’
‘I wouldn’t like us to quarrel if I did something stupid,’ Mimi said.
‘I can’t imagine quarrelling with you, Mimi. We’ve always been friends, ever since I first arrived at Langmune.’ He lifted a hand to her cheek and stroked it. ‘You were always so happy and smiling. I long to make you smile again. Would you come to the pictures sometimes? That is if your father agrees?’
‘I-I don’t know. I know he likes you a lot, Peter, but I hate to leave him alone. Sometimes he looks so … so forlorn and bereft. It – it frightens me when he stares into space and doesn’t speak; when he’s like that he doesn’t even hear when I speak to him. Maybe we should wait a wee while and see how he is.’
When the Heather Blooms Page 20
