Her thoughts returned to Peter. Did he realise she was no longer the little girl who had welcomed him eagerly? Did he know about the feelings he aroused whenever he touched her, let alone kissed her? Even if he did know, and even if by some miracle he could feel the same, there was nothing to be done about it. She couldn’t desert her father; he was right, she was all he had; he needed her but his life centred on High Bowie and he would never want to leave it. He was planning to modernise the house, spending a small fortune on it, and all to keep her here and happy, but it was beginning to feel like a prison closing in on her. She knew should be grateful but she felt as though the cords which bound her to High Bowie and her father were growing tighter. She would never be able to leave. As the thoughts went round in her head she felt mean and wretched.
She had been to Peter’s house twice. It was intended for a married man with a family and it was roomy with a small walled garden. Peter had furnished one bedroom and the kitchen and even they contained the minimum a single man required. She longed to make it into a cheerful, happy home for him but he had made it clear he had no intention of staying there as a manager for ever. His ambition was to rent a farm of his own where he could breed his sheep, graze his own land, and harvest his own crops. He was prepared for a struggle and sacrifices so long as he achieved his dream. Where would he go? Would he return to Gloucestershire? It was unlikely he would ever ask her to go with him, but even if he did …’ Mimi stifled a sob and punched her pillow with a small clenched fist. Her thoughts had come full circle – even if Peter asked her to go with him she could never leave her father alone at High Bowie.
‘Oh Mother, why did you have to leave us?’ she wept. In the four months since her mother’s death she had managed to suppress her own sorrow and sense of loss. She had sensed that her father was struggling with his own black devils and he needed her. Now he seemed to be climbing out of the trough of despondency but Mimi felt she was slipping into it. Her mother had done her best to make sure she lived her life like every other girl her age. As a little girl she had made her persevere with the exercises which Doctor Ritchie had promised would help overcome some of the effects of the polio, and as she grew she had been diligent about buying her special shoes to help her walk straight. When her father had thought she should be wearing pretty dresses her mother had understood her desire to wear trousers to disguise the fact she had one leg thinner and less shapely than the other. She had bought her the smartest trousers she could find and several pretty tops and she had persuaded her father to let her go to the dance with Peter. Without her mother there was no one to make her father see she was growing into a woman with a woman’s feelings and desires. The polio had done nothing to lessen the thrill she felt at Peter’s kisses. She longed for more, even if she longed in vain.
As soon as the lambing was finished Lachie returned to Langmune and Mimi missed his company more than she had expected. They had always been good friends and shared the same sense of humour. Lachie could often make her laugh with no more than a twitch of his dark eyebrows, and he had never treated her as being different to the rest of his friends. Sometimes Aunt Victoria had remonstrated with him and told him to be more considerate but he only grinned and went on as before, and she had been more than happy to tag along. Even then she had hated to be different.
A steady stream of tradesmen began to appear at High Bowie. The house seemed to be in a constant upheaval but Mimi was surprised to find her father enjoyed their chat when he came in for meals. They were all local to the area and they had worked on Josh’s house. Jim MacLean, the plumber, was a pleasant man and he was considerate too. Mimi mentioned this to Libby one afternoon when she called to collect a blouse which Libby had been altering for her. She admitted she was not very handy with a needle, except for sewing on buttons and doing rough repairs.
‘I suppose Uncle Willie welcomes their company,’ Libby sighed. ‘It stops him thinking so much and missing Aunty Mary. What about you, Mimi? I’ve never seen the watch your mother gave you.’
‘No, I know. It’s beautiful but I’ve only worn it twice. It reminds me of Mum so much I want to cry and I know she intended me to be happy. It cost ever such a lot. I know that because it was in the cheque book and we couldn’t help but see it when Aunt Victoria helped me get Dad’s bills up to date when he was so depressed. If I pass my driving test I thought I might enrol for evening classes in accounts at the technical college. I’d like to learn to type as well.’
‘I think that’s a splendid idea,’ Libby said. ‘In fact if there’s a suitable class for me on the same night we might go together. I fancy learning to make sugar flowers or cake decorating. Mum says it’s just practice but those things come naturally to her.’
‘I’d like it if we could go together.’ Mimi grinned. She felt the gap in their ages seemed to have lessened since her mother died. She was no longer a little schoolgirl cousin seeking help with homework.
‘Speaking of driving lessons I hear Peter has been teaching you, Mimi. If you see him will you tell him Alma is going to marry Jim MacLean and they’d like to buy the cottage? It has a big garden and Jim thinks they could extend it if it was theirs. I think it was love at first sight,’ she chuckled.
‘I’ll tell Peter,’ Mimi nodded. ‘It wasn’t like that for you and Billy was it? You had always known each other, like I’ve known Peter for ages.’ Mimi’s cheeks grew pink when Libby gave her a startled glance.
‘Oh Mimi, you don’t think you’re in love with Peter?’ she said in consternation.
‘I do love him,’ Mimi said with conviction.
‘But Mimi … you’re only seventeen …’ She broke off. She had not been any older than Mimi when Billy kissed her for the first time and awakened her feelings for him. She wanted to ask Mimi if Peter had kissed her but she couldn’t.
‘I expect you think the same as Dad, that no man will ever marry me with my lame leg and gammy hand,’ Mimi said.
‘No! I never thought anything like that, Mimi.’ Libby got up and hugged her. ‘You’re so pretty lots of boys would love to take you out. But you’ve never been anywhere to meet them yet. It’s time Fraser and Lachie started taking you with them to some of the Young Farmers’ meetings. I’ll have a word with them …’
‘No, Libby, please don’t do that,’ Mimi said. ‘I can’t leave Dad on his own too often in the winter so one night at the evening classes will be enough.’
‘Does he watch the television?’
‘He and Mum used to watch the quizzes sometimes. He doesn’t have much interest in anything except the farm now. That’s why the company of the tradesmen is good for him, I think. But to me, the more they do, the more it feels like a trap, binding me to High Bowie for ever and ever.’
‘A trap? Whatever do you mean, Mimi?’
‘Granny Pringle only meant Dad to buy an electric washing machine and a cooker like Charlotte’s. That would have been plenty, but he’s making great alterations and spending a lot of money.’
‘I know. Uncle Josh was a bit surprised at how much he wanted to do to make a nice home for you. He says it will be lovely when it’s finished. You’ll be real posh.’ She laughed lightly but Mimi didn’t laugh. Her chin wobbled.
‘I’m not bothered about being posh and I know it sounds ungrateful and selfish, but Dad has always believed I’d never get married like other girls do. He’s spending all this money so that I shall be happy to stay with him at High Bowie for ever.’
‘I see …’ Libby said and chewed her lower lip. She knew Uncle Willie had convinced himself years ago that Mimi would never have a husband and children. Her mother had often argued with him about his protective attitude, and she knew Aunt Mary had been determined to give Mimi every opportunity to go out and meet people and enjoy herself like other teenagers, but Aunt Mary was no longer there to fight for Mimi.
‘I think the company of the young farmers would be good for you,’ she said with an air of determination. ‘In fact, I’ll ask Mum if she’
ll have my two rascals to stay overnight with Molly and we’ll all go to the next big dance. That will be the Harvest Home Dance. I expect Peter will be there too.’
‘Dad doesn’t think I’m able to dance. I’m not very good at it either but Peter is so patient.’
‘Yes, I can imagine he would be,’ Libby nodded. Now that the seed had been sown all sorts of things fell into place. She wondered if Uncle Josh had already guessed how Mimi felt about Peter. He didn’t miss much and he had rather encouraged Peter to go to High Bowie, and to take Mimi for driving lessons. Her heart ached for her cousin. She wondered whether Peter had any idea how she felt. She couldn’t bear to see Mimi hurt.
Even if she did meet someone else who wanted to marry her she would be torn between the man and her father. Libby realised she could understand why Mimi might regard the improvements at High Bowie as a trap. Uncle Willie would never mean to be selfish but it wouldn’t occur to him that Mimi might want to leave High Bowie to marry. He wouldn’t intend to hurt her, or deprive her of a husband; it simply wouldn’t enter his head. He would not live for ever either and what would Mimi do then? Billy had told her how lonely his mother had been when he was a small boy and she lived at High Bowie.
Libby’s resolve hardened. Between them they must make sure Mimi got out more and met other people. She vowed to talk to her mother about Uncle Willie’s protective attitude. Her young cousin might have one leg and one hand weaker than the other but she could do most things and she was intelligent too. She had a slender figure which most women would envy, as well as a lovely face and pretty blond curls. Mimi had always had a happy, unselfish nature. Libby could imagine her being very happily married if she met the right man, but he would have to be a very special person to win Uncle Willie’s approval.
Chapter Twenty-one
Mimi passed her driving test and by the beginning of September the improvements at High Bowie were almost complete, even to hiring a painter and decorator for some of the rooms, something Willie would never have contemplated if Josh had not persuaded him. Mimi had to admit everything was a vast improvement and so much easier to look after. Her father had even sold the two cows. They bought milk from Langmune instead.
Peter sold six pedigree ram lambs at the Kelso sales and achieved one of the best averages. He was becoming known as a breeder of good Suffolk stock. Willie had accompanied him to the sale and enjoyed the experience. The Croston Estate lambs had also done well and earned Peter high praise from Mr Stacey, the factor. He was always careful not to neglect his work as manager in favour of his own small flock and the factor appreciated his reliability, even while he accepted Peter’s ambition to move on to a farm of his own.
Libby and Mimi started the evening classes at the end of September and Mimi was surprised when her father said he would drop her off at Home Farm and collect her there on his way home.
‘He didn’t say where he was going,’ she said to Libby. ‘He doesn’t often go out in the evening.’
‘Maybe he met some of the farmers at the market,’ Billy suggested. ‘He enjoys selling his lambs, doesn’t he?’
Peter was surprised when he answered a knock at his door to find Willie Pringle on the step. He ushered him inside, apologising for the sparse comfort, ‘Unless you’d like to have a look around the farms before it gets dark?’
‘Aye, I’d like that, laddie. We can talk as we go. I knew all the farms on Darlonachie Estate, but I’ve never been round the Croston Estate before. I don’t want to be too late though. Mimi has started her evening classes and I said I would pick her up at Home Farm on my way back. I don’t want Libby dropping her off and nobody at home.’
‘The nights are drawing in now. It will be dark by the time the classes finish,’ Peter agreed.
‘Aye,’ Willie climbed up into the Croston Land Rover which Peter used for work. ‘I can’t say that I’m looking forward to the winter nights,’ he admitted, ‘especially when Mimi’s out.’ He shuddered. ‘I was never known for my imagination when I had to write stories at school, but my God, I think I have too much now. When the house is dark and silent up at High Bowie and I’m there on my own …’ he shook his head, frowning. He didn’t go on but Peter had always been sensitive to other people’s feelings.
‘I know how you feel,’ he said. ‘After mother died it was easy to imagine she was still there, leaning against the door of my bedroom the way she used to do, or I would hear the stairs creak and think she had called goodnight.’
‘That’s it exactly!’ Willie said. ‘It’s a damned silly notion for a man of my age,’ he muttered, ‘but when it’s dark you hear the old house creak, or maybe there’s mice in the walls … I don’t know, but more than once when I’ve been half asleep I’ve thought it was Mary, and then I’ve come to my senses. Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk nonsense,’ he said, sitting up straighter in his seat. ‘You’ve a fine place here, laddie, and there’s a lot to manage?’
‘We have good men, well, most of them, and the dairy has just been modernised this summer. I picked Uncle Andrew’s brains and Billy’s then Mr Stacey picked mine, but in the end we’ve settled for a milking parlour instead of a new byre. I think it is the way things will go, now more of the milk is being collected by tanker direct from farm bulk tanks.’
‘I was never much interested in dairying myself,’ Willie admitted, ‘but I like to see a tidy place and good stock. Andrew always wanted to breed dairy cows; he didn’t seem to mind milking twice a day, seven days a week. Victoria helped him from the beginning. They’ve been a great partnership. Even when he was young he knew he wanted to marry her. Ah, here’s the sheep. Have we time for a walk through them before it gets too dark?’
Peter drew the Land Rover into the field gateway while they strolled around the flock.
‘There’s one with a bad foot,’ Peter frowned. ‘I’ll need to get the shepherd and take a look at her tomorrow.’
‘There’s not many days when you don’t find one with something wrong, even in the best-tended flocks,’ Willie agreed. ‘Much as I like my sheep I often think if you look at one the wrong way it’ll cock up its feet and die, just to spite ye.’ They both chuckled, knowing how true it was.
‘Before I forget, Peter, Jim MacLean was back up at High Bowie this week to replace a wash basin. He asked if I’d have a word with you to see whether you’ve decided about selling your cottage? He says they don’t need to buy until the spring but he’d like to get plans made. They’re getting married in March.’
‘Mmm, Mimi told me they’re keen to buy.’
‘Mimi? Has he been getting at her too? He did say he’d offer a good price.’
‘He didn’t talk to Mimi. It was Alma who mentioned it to Libby and she asked Mimi to mention it to me. To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to do, Willie.’ He fell silent, frowning. The light was fading now.
‘There’s nothing worrying you, is there, laddie?’ Willie asked.
‘We-ell.’ Peter hesitated. ‘It’s a long story …’
‘Maybe we should go back to the house now then. I’ve enjoyed looking around. Maybe you’ll show me the rest if I come down next week while Mimi’s at her class?’
‘Yes, I’ll do that,’ Peter agreed.
Once back in the house Peter was conscious of the lack of comfort as he settled Willie in the only armchair, an old one from Aunt Victoria. He settled himself at the table, undecided whether Willie would want to listen to his problems when he had plenty of his own, but Willie sensed his uncertainty.
‘Are ye having trouble with your work, then, laddie?’
‘Oh no, it’s nothing like that,’ Peter assured him. ‘I suppose you haven’t seen Mr McNay recently?’
‘No. I used to see him when I was selling lambs but he has none to sell now his farm is all in seasonal grass lets.’
‘He’s not very happy with some of the seasonal tenants,’ Peter said. ‘He’s considering letting the whole farm in March with a five-year lease. He asked if I would be in
terested.’
‘That’s just what you want, isn’t it, Peter? What’s the problem?’
‘He hasn’t quite made up his mind,’ Peter warned, ‘so I’d rather you didn’t say anything yet. The trouble is he wants to keep twenty-five acres and the new stables which he built, and the house and garden.’
‘Ah, of course, his wife is a pony woman. I remember now. She came from the city, Birmingham I think. Her father was a lawyer but she did well with the horse jumping. That’s how Tom McNay met her. He thought she would enjoy being a farmer’s wife but she never had much interest except in her ponies. I think their two sons must be the same.’
‘Yes, they are, but Mr MacKay is still hoping his youngest son might change his mind and decide to come home. If I took on the tenancy I’d have almost all the land and buildings, but no house. That’s why I can’t decide what to do about Ivy Cottage.’
‘It would be too far away to be any good, wouldn’t it?’ Willie said, ‘McNay’s place is the other side of Home Farm. The two places neighbour along most of the southern boundary.’
‘I know,’ Peter frowned. ‘That’s the problem. It would be a good chance to rent the land and if I sold the cottage I could afford to buy some of McNay’s machinery. I have enough capital to buy some commercial breeding sheep and a few beef cows, but I’d have no place to live. Or I could keep the cottage and sell my pedigree Suffolks to raise the capital to set up in farming.’
‘Och, you would never do that, would you, Peter? You’re just beginning to make a name for yourself.’
‘I would sell them if it meant getting the tenancy of a farm like Darlonside.’ He sighed. ‘I never expected getting into farming would be all roses so I’m prepared to make some sacrifices and I know the Suffolks would bring in a fair bit of capital now I’ve more of them. If I don’t take on the tenancy I shall be dependent on getting seasonal grass somewhere else in order to keep the number I have now.’
When the Heather Blooms Page 22
