Coming Home

by Gwen Kirkwood

  Megan couldn’t help feeling dejected when she realised Steven and Natalie were corresponding regularly with each other, although there was no reason why he shouldn’t write to as many girls as he wanted. She felt he was not as much in need of her letters as she had believed. In fact, she wrote so regularly he probably found them a nuisance and he was too polite not to reply. Yet his letters had always been so chatty, almost as though they were talking together. She had no way of knowing Natalie had only recently acquired Steven’s address when she had seen his letter to her father lying on the desk. She had copied it down and written to him immediately.

  Steven knew he couldn’t expect Megan to wait for him, even if he had had any prospects of taking a wife, and as time passed it seemed he had no prospects of anything. He was sure he ought to have heard from the Department of Agriculture about his application for a holding by now. All his joyful anticipation seemed to drain away as he contemplated a future without Megan and without any prospect of becoming a farmer. He didn’t even have a home where he was welcome any more and he travelled back to Willowburn with spirits as bleak as the short January day. Where else could he go until he found a job?

  At least he had managed to build up his savings with the boost of his promotion to sergeant and his sojourn in Palestine. He clenched his jaw. He would pay for his board and lodging so Fred wouldn’t be able to say he was freeloading. His mother would need persuading to accept money from him though. It would be difficult to keep away from the animals but he recalled Fred’s angry resentment the last time he had been home and all he had done was assist an animal in pain and save the life of her calf. He was not afraid of Fred, nor even unduly concerned by his attitude but the atmosphere between them made life unpleasant for everybody and he couldn’t expect his father to deal with Fred’s jealousy at this late stage in his life.

  As soon as Steven set foot in the door of the familiar old farmhouse his mother was there to greet him and his heart thawed a little at her welcoming hug.

  ‘Come and sit down at the table, Steven. I saw ye walking up the road so the tea is brewed and ye’ll be ready for a hot drink inside you.’

  ‘I am that,’ he smiled at her. ‘What’s Fred saying about me coming here?’

  ‘Fred? What should he be saying? This is your home, Steven. Where else would you stay? Besides I don’t think he’s so bothered now he knows you’re not intending to work at Willowburn. There’s an official looking letter for you by the way. It came yesterday. Here it is.’

  Steven took the large brown envelope with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Could this be what he’d been praying for?

  He slit it open and scanned the typed page. He looked up, his blue eyes alight with hope.

  ‘I was not on the short list for the last holding which was to let but another one has fallen vacant and I’m on the short list this time, Mother! I’ve to go for an interview the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘A-ah that’s good news.’ Hannah gave a huge sigh.

  ‘It doesn’t mean to say I shall get it,’ Steven cautioned. ‘I’m only on a short list.’

  ‘You must take the van. You’ll need to be on time and you would have to change buses at Annan.’

  ‘I don’t want to cause any upset and Fred would have something to say if I do that.’

  ‘I bought the van myself to deliver my eggs when I got too many to take on the bus. It’s been handy. You must take it.’

  Steven took her advice and arrived at the government offices in good time.

  ‘If you’ll take a seat, Mr Caraford,’ a pleasant young woman said. ‘Your appointment is with the senior land officer and he was delayed on the journey down this morning. He will not keep you waiting long.’

  Steven couldn’t remember when he had last felt so nervous. His mother had pressed his suit specially but he doubted if that would help much. He tugged at his collar and tie as though it was choking him.

  ‘Mr Burrows will see you now, if you’ll come this way, please?’

  The woman showed him through to another room.

  The interview was long and the questions searching, ranging widely. Many of the topics seemed to have nothing to do with farming, but the man’s manner was pleasant, almost conversational and Steven began to relax. He was articulate and he had kept himself up to date with both world affairs and the state of farming, as well as reading books for pleasure. When it came to a discussion of how he planned to stock and finance a holding he was grateful for his mother’s financial help and pleased he had managed to swell his bank balance even more during the past eighteen months, even though he had grumbled at being sent abroad instead of being demobbed. Sometimes things did work out for the best. Mr Burrows nodded his approval as he listed his priorities.

  ‘Well I think we can offer you a tenancy, Mr Caraford, but the holding is less than half the acreage of the last one you applied for. It is thirty five acres. The house and garden are not in the best of order but the rent will take account of that until the next review is due. The previous tenant was ill. Cancer I believe. The original farm was called Schoirhead before it was divided into five holdings. Three of them had new cottage type houses and a small range of new buildings. The farm house was split into two. One half of the house goes with this holding which is Number One or Schoirhead. It is separated from the neighbouring house and garden by a high stone wall. The farm steading has been maintained in good order. You may decide to wait for a larger holding to become vacant but I cannot guarantee you would get it. My advice would be to take this one and see how you get on. The rent is one pound seventeen shillings and six pence per acre per year, payable in two halves in May and November. All this will be confirmed in writing.’

  ‘Thank you. What is the date of entry?’

  ‘The rent is paid until May but the widow of the previous tenant found she couldn’t stay there without her husband so the house is empty. You may look at the holding at your convenience. Legally the tenant is still responsible for everything until term day, including any frozen pipes and the water bowls in the byre, so the widow may be happy for you to take over earlier than usual.’

  ‘That would suit me too. I am free immediately.’ Steven felt his excitement rising.

  ‘You will need to pay Mrs McKie, the outgoing tenant, the value of unused fertiliser and various other items, mainly the farm yard manure. I’m afraid it has been allowed to accumulate. Mr McKie was a highly satisfactory tenant prior to his illness. You will be given a copy of the conditions on your way out.’

  ‘The first thing I shall need is a horse and cart, a wheel barrow and a good strong fork by the sound of things,’ Steven said, trying hard to keep from smiling as his spirits soared. He was young and strong and he would relish the satisfaction of spreading the manure on his fields. His land.

  ‘The first thing you must do is inspect the holding and study the lease carefully.’ The land officer warned, but with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at Steven’s youthful enthusiasm. ‘If you decide to take on the tenancy there will be papers to sign. I would advise you to consult your solicitor before committing yourself, especially if you have any doubts regarding the valuation. Your reference from Mr Turner was excellent and I notice he is willing to offer you his support. You may wish to consult him too before you sign anything.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I shall follow your advice, but I think this is the opportunity I have been waiting for and it couldn’t have come at a better time, so it will have to be pretty bad for me to refuse the tenancy.’

  ‘The land is very good I believe, but the meadow near the river has been known to flood. The farm steading will benefit from a coat of whitewash as you will see.

  ‘I understand, sir.’ Steven nodded.

  ‘Normally we would expect a tenant to take possession on term day, the twenty eighth of May, so that is when your lease will begin officially, but if you reach an agreement with the widow we can make arrangements for you to take over earlier. You will need to
pay Mrs Mckie a proportion of the rent which was paid by her late husband.’

  ‘Would it be in order for me to see it today, sir?’

  ‘I should think so,’ Mr Burrows smiled at his eagerness. He was certain this young man deserved an opportunity to farm. ‘The keys to the house are with the next door tenants, a Mr and Mrs…’ He scrutinised a sheet of paper, ‘Ah yes Mr and Mrs McGuire. Their address is Number Two, The Loaning. I understand Schoirhead means land above the harbour, though there doesn’t appear to have been a harbour in that area. Perhaps it was a landing stage at one time, or maybe the Solway smugglers used to land their contraband there.’

  Steven thanked him and tried hard not to grin from ear to ear as he left the building. Thirty five acres was less than half the size of Willowburn but it was a start and it would be his very own place. He longed to tell somebody. He wished Megan had been at home but she would have returned to college after the Christmas holidays. He would take a good look at the place then write and tell her all about it, although her letters had been less frequent recently and he felt there was a cooler tone to them. First he must find a telephone kiosk and let his mother know his news and his plans to inspect the holding right away. He could barely contain his excitement as he gave the Willowburn number to the operator.

  As he had expected his mother was relieved and delighted.

  ‘Take your time and have a good look at everything, Steven.’

  He jumped into the van. Half an hour later, after he had driven through Annan, he realised it would only be a short detour to call on the Oliphants. Sam’s parents would be as pleased as his mother. Mr Oliphant was often free for an hour or two in the middle of the day to compensate for the early start and late finish. It would be good to have his opinion.

  A little while later he was turning into the Martinwold road end. He jumped out of the van and ran up the path. Mrs Oliphant had seen him arrive and she met him at the door. He followed her into the kitchen.

  ‘Megan!’ he exclaimed with delight. ‘I didn’t expect to find you at home from college?’

  ‘She’s had the influenza,’ Mrs Oliphant said. ‘She’s fretting because she’s missing lectures but Dr. Burns says she’s had a bad attack and she must stay in and keep warm.’

  ‘I’m all right.’ Megan insisted, ‘just a bit wobbly. I’m definitely going back on Monday. You look as though you’ve got good news, Steven?’

  ‘I have.’ Steven moved to her side and took one of her hands in both of his. ‘I’ve got a tenancy for a holding. I was longing to tell you so I’m glad you’re here, except I’m sorry you’re ill. I hoped your father might be free to come with me. I’m on my way to look at it now.’

  ‘Oh Steven that’s wonderful,’ Megan said, her green eyes shining with happiness for him.

  ‘That’s tremendous news, laddie.’ Chrissie Oliphant clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Exactly what you hoped for. I’m pleased for you.

  ‘We-ell it’s only thirty five acres but it’s a start and I reckon it’s as much as I can afford to stock to begin with.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll do fine. I must hurry up and finish the rag rug I’m making. It will be just the thing for your new fireside.’

  ‘You’re making it for me?’ Steven asked incredulously.

  ‘I can’t think of anybody who deserves it more. Besides if I know men, it’s the outside that claims all the money and attention but it’s nice to have a place to warm your feet on a cold night.’

  ‘It is that. Mother says I can take my bed from Willowburn so if I’ve a table and a chair,’ he grinned, his blue eyes twinkling, ‘and a rag rug, I shall be all right. By the sound of things I shall have to muck out the sheds so my first priority must be a horse and cart.’

  ‘There’s John just coming round the corner,’ Chrissie said, glancing out of the window. ‘I’ll give him a shout. Oh…he seems to be discussing something with Mr Turner.’

  ‘Is he there too? I ought to tell him I’ve been successful,’ Steven said. ‘According to the Land Office the reference he gave me helped a lot.’ He looked back at Megan. ‘I do wish you could have come with me, but you do look pale.’

  ‘Aye, this is the first day she’s been downstairs. Better not take any risks lassie,’ her mother advised, seeing the longing in her daughter’s eyes. ‘The soup is nearly ready, Steven. Ask John to come in and you can both have a bowl before you leave.’

  Steven went to join the two men and they could tell by his expression he had good news.

  ‘Have you got a tenancy, laddie?’ John Oliphant asked eagerly.

  ‘I have.’ Steven grinned. ‘It’s only thirty five acres but it’s big enough to start off. I want to thank you, Mr Turner, for the reference you gave me. I know it helped to get me the interview.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve been successful, Steven.’ Mr Turner shook his hand and beamed. ‘You deserve it. I know you’ll not let me down.’

  ‘Not if I can help it,’ Steven promised. ‘I called in to see if Mr Oliphant was free for an hour. I’m going there now to have a look. The last tenant has died. The rent is paid until May but the widow didn’t like staying on her own so I can take possession as soon as everything is agreed and signed up.’

  ‘That’s splendid. I’ll not keep the two of you then,’ Mr Turner said.

  ‘Mrs Oliphant says we’ve to go in for some soup before we set off,’ Steven said.

  They were almost finished their soup when the telephone rang. Chrissie Oliphant went into the hall to answer it.

  ‘That was Mr Turner,’ she said. ‘He would like to join the pair of you. He says he’ll drive you all there in his car. He’ll pick you up in ten minutes. So come on, Steven, eat up some soda scone and cheese and I’ll make you a cup of tea and a slice of apple pie.’

  She didn’t mention that it was Natalie Turner’s idea that her father should accompany them, or that she intended going too, although she was also supposed to be off work after a bad cold.

  Eight

  John Oliphant was surprised when he opened the back door of his boss’s car and saw Natalie sitting there.

  ‘I’ve left the front seats for you two old men. Steven you can sit in the back with me,’ she ordered imperiously. Steven raised his brows then he frowned. He didn’t care for the knowing look in John Oliphant’s eyes or the half smile twitching the corner of his mouth. Natalie Turner was the last person he had expected to show interest in a neglected smallholding. She didn’t even take an interest in her father’s prosperous acres so why did she want to come with them? He had not even seen the place himself. He felt irritated but he couldn’t afford to offend Natalie when it was her father who had been instrumental in helping him get a start on the farming ladder.

  The moment they arrived at Schoirhead, Steven was eager to view the buildings and discover what facilities he would have. He had also intended walking over the land with John Oliphant but he doubted whether that would be possible with Natalie tagging along. The house was the last thing on his mind. He knew his mother would come to look and they could see it then, but it was the only thing which interested Natalie.

  ‘I’d need to get the key from next door,’ he frowned.

  ‘Well go on and get it then. It’s freezing out here.’

  Reluctantly he went through the garden and the small orchard to the neighbouring holding. Mrs McGuire eyed him warily but she gave him the heavy iron key.

  ‘We only have one door each. This used to be the back o’ the hoose. You’ve got the kitchen and the front room o’ the original,’ she informed him abruptly. He smiled and thanked her and promised to return the key before they left.

  Natalie was standing shivering in the tiny porch. Surely she must realise an empty house in January would be cold, he thought impatiently. He handed her the key.

  ‘You have a look round while I inspect the loft above the pig sty. It might be suitable for rearing some chickens. I shall need something to bring in an income as soon as possible.’ He turned a
way, ignoring her pouting lips and the invitation in her eyes. He managed to get John Oliphant on his own up in the small loft.

  ‘I can’t see half of the place with Natalie here,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Anyway I need to get out of this suit and get my boots on to walk over the fields. I’m sorry if I dragged you here. I’ll have to come back and have another look tomorrow.’

  ‘I understand, lad,’ John Oliphant nodded. ‘But I’m pleased you asked me anyway. Your father and mother will want to look.’ When they climbed down the wooden steps, Natalie was waiting. She almost dragged Steven to the house.

  ‘You come and see it too, Daddy. It’s a mess but I’ve seen some lovely wallpaper in one of the shops in Carlisle.’ Steven’s eyes widened. The house would be lucky if he had time to give one of the rooms a coat of distemper but he had to admit the place did look forlorn and neglected.

  ‘Empty houses always look miserable,’ John Oliphant said. ‘It will be fine once you move in.’ There were a few cobwebs and a layer of dust over everything, but he was surprised to find the kitchen had a small Aga stove with two ovens instead of an open range. It was very scruffy and he wondered whether it worked. It had two big hot plates. Maybe it wouldn’t be as cosy as an open fire and it certainly needed a good clean but he could imagine what a benefit it would be to keep the house aired and revive a sickly piglet, or a starved lamb if he decided to keep a few breeding sheep. The previous tenant had left a pine dresser, which took up most of one wall, but it looked solid enough and it would provide useful storage. It had probably been too large to take away. There was a big pine table too, which would suit him fine if it had a good scrub with scouring powder. A door opened into a whitewashed larder.