Coming Home

by Gwen Kirkwood

  ‘I hope you do too,’ Steven said. ‘I miss you when you’re not around.’ He looked up at her from the flank of the cow he was milking and his smile made Megan’s heart do a somersault.

  ‘Shall I go inside and cook you some supper,’ she asked when Steven started milking the last cow.

  ‘That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,’ he grinned, ‘but I don’t think you’ll find much in the pantry to cook except eggs and eggs,’ he added ruefully.

  ‘Sounds like omelette then.’

  ‘The mushrooms are fresh. I picked them this morning when I was bringing Daisy in for work. Do you remember how Sam used to love looking for mushrooms?’ he asked reminiscently.

  ‘I do and you both got up extra early in the hope you could leave me behind,’ she pouted, ‘and the funny thing is Sam never ate any mushrooms. I’ll see if there’s anything growing in the garden before I go in.’

  There were plenty of new potatoes and spring onions, some young carrots and a few peas – plenty to make a tasty Spanish omelette, she decided. Her efforts were more than rewarded by Steven’s appreciation. Later as they cleared away and washed up together he had to restrain himself several times from drawing her into his arms and kissing her but he knew if he started he would never want to stop. He sighed.

  ‘It’s getting late and you have an early start too. I’ll show you the pigs and you can choose their names the next time you come.’

  As she drove home, Megan’s heart soared. They had regained their old camaraderie. Only when she had been leaving had she seen the wistful shadows in Steven’s eyes again. He had taken her hands in his and she thought he was going to kiss her goodnight but in the end he had leaned forward and dropped a light, friendly kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Come again soon, Meggie. You know how much I enjoy your company.’

  The summer holidays seemed to be passing all too quickly. Megan visited Schoirhead at least once each week. She would have liked to go more often but she was conscious she was using her father’s car and his petrol ration so she agreed eagerly when Steven offered to come to her house one evening and take her for a run on the back of his motor bike. She enjoyed the feel of the wind in her hair and her arms around Steven’s waist as she learned to move with him when they went round the curves in the twisting country roads, but he was always careful with her.

  ‘I feel perfectly safe,’ she said, laughing up into his face with delight. ‘I really enjoyed it.’

  ‘Would you like to come with me to Willowburn, the next time I come then? I’m sure Mother and Father would love to see you again. A cheerful face would brighten up their day.’ Megan was not so sure about that but she wanted to go with Steven wherever he was going.

  Hannah Caraford welcomed her warmly and Megan could see how pathetically pleased his father was to see Steven. She was shocked by her first sight of him. She remembered him as a strong, sturdy man who had walked tirelessly up and down the fields behind his horses. He had even let Sam have a go at ploughing once and he hadn’t complained when Sam’s furrow ended up like a dog’s hind leg, as her brother had told her himself.

  On the way home, Steven drew the motor bike to a halt in a field gateway and they both climbed off.

  ‘Shall we go for a bit of a walk?’ Steven asked. ‘It’s a lovely evening but I never stay late at Willowburn. Father tires easily and I avoid running into Fred if I can.’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Megan nodded as Steven held open the gate into a grassy field. ‘What did your mother mean when she mentioned moving away from Willowburn, Steven?’

  ‘Moving? She’s never mentioned that to me,’ he said quickly.

  ‘I got the impression she was mulling it over in her mind, but I was surprised you’d never mentioned it.’

  ‘That’s because I didn’t realise Mother wanted to move,’ Steven said, frowning thoughtfully. He recalled Mr Turner’s hints about the Mr Griffith’s dissatisfaction with Fred’s management of Willowburn. He didn’t blame the agent because his criticism was justified but he wondered if his mother knew, or if she had heard rumours too. ‘Maybe she is finding the work too much for her,’ he said to Megan. ‘She’s not getting any younger and caring for my father must take up a lot of her time, especially when she still helps with the milking twice a day. I can’t understand why Fred doesn’t see he would be working for his own benefit; it’s his own future at stake.’

  ‘By the sound of things he only uses his brain to find a way of avoiding work,’ Megan said. ‘I hope I don’t get any young pupils like that.’

  ‘What else did Mother say? I wonder why she’s never mentioned it to me?’ Steven pondered, still frowning a little.

  ‘We were just making conversation,’ Megan said gently, ‘so don’t be hurt Steven. She must get lonely sometimes when your father can’t hold a proper conversation any more, and if Fred is as sullen as you say. I’m surprised the land girl has stayed on this long but she doesn’t seem to be much company for your mother either.’

  ‘I reckon Edna has stayed because she and Fred have a lot in common and they seem to have something going between them. Tell me exactly what Mother said,’ he persisted.

  ‘She only said she feels things are getting a bit too much for her at Willowburn,’ Megan said slowly. ‘I should think they are too when she has so much to do outside, as well as cooking and washing for four adults, including an invalid.’

  ‘You’re very understanding, Megan,’ Steven said gratefully. ‘Maybe Mother sensed you would be. She enjoys her poultry but she wouldn’t need to help with the milking if Fred would get himself out of bed in the mornings,’ he added angrily, ‘but if she relied on him they’d never have the churns ready in time for the milk lorry to collect them.’

  ‘Well don’t go worrying about it yet. She thinks your father is not well enough to consider a move. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it but she didn’t say it was a secret. We were just talking in friendly fashion. In fact I’d love to visit again if it’s all right with you, Steven?’

  ‘Of course it is. I thought my mother would enjoy your company, Meggie.’ He took her hand and swung it as they walked. ‘I certainly enjoy being with you. I’m going to miss you when you go back to college.’

  ‘I shall miss you too, Steven,’ Megan said softly. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go back but I know how it would upset Mother if I gave up now.’

  ‘Yes, it would. Anyway it would be silly to give up at this stage and I wouldn’t like your mother to blame me. It’s not as though I’ve anything to offer you in place of a career,’ he added bitterly, almost under his breath, but Megan heard. Did that mean he would have offered her marriage if he could have afforded a wife, she wondered hopefully.

  ‘She won’t blame you. You’re my mother’s blue eyed boy since Sam died. Speaking of your mother though, you know it may not be such a bad thing if your parents did move from Willowburn and left Fred to get on with things, the way you have to do. Your mother fancies a cottage with a good sized garden where she can keep her hens. I got the impression she had talked to Maryanne’s mother about it, you know, Mrs Anderson.’

  ‘Ah yes, they meet at Annan on Fridays sometimes. She must be considering it then.’ He wondered why his mother had confided in Megan and not in him but he was glad the two of them had got on together.

  Sixteen

  Steven felt hay time had barely finished before it was time to harvest the corn. He still had only one horse, Daisy, and he did not possess a binder to cut the corn and deposit it in neatly tied sheaves, ready for setting up in stooks. Jimmy Kerr often popped into Schoirhead for a chat after work during the long summer evenings. The two young men got on well together. Although the other tenants were not as old as the McGuires, Jimmy considered they were all old fashion and stick-in-the-mud and he had welcomed a younger tenant, especially one as keen as Steven.

  ‘I think I might be able to borrow a horse drawn binder from Mr Turner,’ Steven said, ‘but it takes two horses so I should need to bo
rrow the McGuire’s gelding. I hate the idea of borrowing, especially from Mr Turner.’

  ‘You could always marry that lass of his and then he’d give you the lot,’ Jimmy teased. He had a strong suspicion where Steven’s affections lay and they were not with that stuck up Turner girl. Steven gave him a sideways grin.

  ‘Do you want me to sign my life away?’

  ‘Aye, that’s what you’d be doing with that family I reckon. No we canna have ye doing that, mate.’ Jimmy grinned back. ‘Anyway I’ve a better suggestion. I think I could arrange to hire a tractor and a binder from my boss’s firm, like we did with the plough. He’s hoping to make a sale to you eventually’

  ‘When I can afford a tractor I would certainly go to him first, tell him.’

  ‘That’s fair enough. He’s a decent man. He wouldn’t cheat you. Anyway if we hire, it would need to be over two weekends again. None of the small holdings have big acreages of cereals but they’re all doing their bit.’

  ‘Aye, Britain depends on the small farmers because there’s so many of us. I read about Prime Minister Atlee issuing warnings of more austerity to come. He reckons Britain canna afford to buy imported produce. If the situation is that serious so we shall have to do our best to get the harvest in good condition.’

  ‘Aye, I’ll ask Dad to talk to the other holders then, but I reckon they’ll be glad to join in.’

  Steven was happy to drive the tractor while Jimmy manipulated the binder and between them they cut the oats for all five of the Loaning small holders. They all shared the cost of hiring the machines and the other three farmers were relieved to get theirs cut with the tractor and binder. They willingly paid Steven and Jimmy for their labour and Steven planned to put his extra money towards buying another milk cow.

  There was still all the stooking and carting to do and Megan and her father both came down to help in the interval between the morning and evening milkings at Martinworld.

  ‘I hope I shall not be in trouble with Mr Turner for steeling away his extra hands?’ Steven asked with a grin, ‘But I’m really glad to see you both.’

  ‘Don’t worry, laddie,’ John Oliphant said. ‘During the war I worked at Martinwold from five in the morning until ten or eleven at night during hay and harvest. This year Mr Turner has hired four POW’s as extras. We prefer to help here, don’t we, Megan?’ He winked at his daughter.

  ‘Yes, it’s a lovely wee community down here,’ she said stripping off her sweater. She blushed a little when she looked up and saw the admiration in Steven’s eyes. She rarely wore trousers except in the byre but she had donned a pair of fawn bib and brace overalls and a yellow shirt, thinking they would be more suitable if she was working with the other men. Although she was not tall she had long legs and a narrow waist and Steven eyed her with approval.

  ‘Megan said you were taking on some feeding sheep to eat off your extra grass, Steven. Did you get fixed up?’ John Oliphant asked. He was genuinely interested in Steven’s farming venture, more so since he had lost his own son. He still missed Sam’s cheery company and he knew he always would.

  ‘Aye, I got fixed up,’ Steven sighed. ‘They’ve come from a breeder up at Sanquhar but the whole lot are as wild as the heather. I hadna bargained for that. If I lose a couple of them there’ll be no profit in taking them. That’s one lesson learned the hard way,’ he added ruefully. ‘Next year I shall make sure I’m better stocked with animals of my own to eat all the grass.’

  ‘Aye well ye’ll have had more time to plan and to build up by next season.’

  ‘My main worry is wondering if any more cows will abort,’ he said anxiously.

  ‘I ken fine what a worry that must be,’ John Oliphant sympathised. ‘It’s bad enough losing the calf but the cows usually go right off their milk so you lose in every way, as well as spreading the disease to the rest. It’s a dead loss all round. It would be best to get rid of them but that’s easier said than done for a young fellow starting up – or for an established farmer come to that. Most folks are inoculating now but there’s always some who would rather take a risk than spend the money.’

  Stooking the sheaves was a laborious task but it had to be done to allow the oats to ripen and harden and let the straw dry out. McGuire found it almost beyond him and he could barely express his gratitude when Steven brought Megan and her father to help with his harvest as well. Mrs McGuire insisted on making their mid-day meal. She felt it was small repayment, but it was a token of their appreciation.

  ‘We ought to bring you some of our rations now that the meat has been reduced again,’ John Oliphant said.

  ‘Aye well I can’t do much with a shilling’s worth a week but they’ve increased the cheese and bread rations for farmers and fisherman, and I expect the miners deserve all the meat they can get.’ The women had all learned to make a little go a long way.

  ‘Aye, I wouldna like to work underground for all the tea in China, or all the beef in Britain.’ John Oliphant said with a shiver. He looked at Megan, then winked at Mrs McGuire. ‘They’ve even cut the petrol again – no more motoring for pleasure.’

  ‘Och, the lassie works for her petrol whenever she comes down here,’ Mrs M declared. She was a staunch supporter of Megan. ‘I’ll bet some o’ the gentry will not be so pleased now they’ve banned foreign holidays though. I expect they’ll try to make out they’re crossing the Channel on business.’

  ‘Maybe they will but that’s limited to eight pounds a day for expenses now so that will clip their wings,’ McGuire said with a note of satisfaction

  Annie McGuire thought it was a pity Megan was spending so much time at college training to be a teacher.

  ‘She would make a fine wee wife for Steven,’ she announced more than once to McGuire. ‘I would like a pleasant lassie like her for a neighbour.’

  ‘Neighbour?’ McGuire grunted. He’d had a long hard day and he was rarely free from pain now. ‘I’m wondering how much longer we can go on here, Annie. I thought I’d be better with the summer weather but I couldn’t have managed without Steven’s help. I reckon I’m no use. I’m finished. Useless I am,’ he said dejectedly.

  ‘Well you know I don’t mind moving if it’s what you want,’ Annie said doubtfully. She had fancied a wee bungalow near the shops for a long while but she didn’t want that if it was going to mean her Tom being miserable and having nothing to interest him. She knew farmers often went into a decline and died if they retired into the town. It was like trying to transplant a full grown tree. They had waited a long time to get a wee place of their own and she knew Tom had hoped to live out his life at Number Two The Loaning.

  ‘If you want a wee hoose, Annie, that’s what we’ll have to do, for it’s you and young Steven who do all the work here now. But oh...’ he shook his head, ‘it’s not how I expected to end ma life.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that!’ Annie said in alarm. ‘You’re only fifty eight.’

  ‘I might as well be ninety eight for all the good I am,’ McGuire sighed.

  Annie McGuire lay awake most nights worrying and wondering what to do for the best. She hated to see Tom so depressed but she knew they couldn’t go on depending on Steven. He had his own way to make and he was ambitious. As soon as the harvest was over he was going to buy another cow, and a second one when he got the money for grazing the sheep.

  Several times she teased Steven.

  ‘Megan would make a fine wife for ye, laddie. She’s not afraid of hard work or getting her hands dirty, for all she’s blessed with a good brain. No air and graces about that one – not like the first hoity toity young woman you brought.’

  ‘If you mean Natalie, Mrs M? I didn’t bring her,’ Steven grinned, ‘I think she was curious.’

  ‘Curious she may be but she fancies ye so ye’d better watch out ma lad.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, Natalie Turner wouldn’t want a man like me. She has her sights set on one of these wealthy doctors I reckon.’

  ‘Well I’m relieved to hear it
. You’ll not do any better than Megan.’

  ‘I know that,’ Steven said seriously. ‘The trouble is Megan could take her pick of a dozen young men, all of them with more money and more time than I have so it’s no use dreaming the impossible.’

  ‘Oh laddie, I hear what you’re saying, and I know it might be true, but Megan doesna strike me as the kind who would marry a man she didn’t love for the sake o’ his money.’

  ***

  One morning, after McGuire had suffered a worse week than usual, Annie announced, ‘I’ve thought of a way we might be able to stay here, Tom, but it depends whether Steven would agree and we’d have to keep the arrangement a secret or we might both loose the tenancy.’

  ‘That wouldna matter so much to us at our time o’ life but it would be the end o’ the world to Steven so you’d better not be thinking up anything criminal, Annie.’

  ‘Criminal! As though I would, Tom McGuire.’ She explained her plan in detail. She knew McGuire would agree to almost anything if he could stay where he was but it all depended on whether Steven would agree.

  ‘There’s only one thing to do and that’s to ask him,’ McGuire said, ‘but we’ll wait a while,’ he decided. ‘The prisoners are coming back today to help cart the corn in. We’ll wait until we get that done.’

  When the last sheaf of corn was in the stack, Mr McGuire invited Steven to come round for supper and a drink of beer to celebrate.

  ‘We’ll expect you when you’ve finished milking?’

  ‘That’s kind of you both,’ Steven said apologetically, ‘but could we make it tomorrow night? I promised to take Megan to the Lyceum in Dumfries as soon as we finished the harvest. There’s a film she wants to see.’ He grinned. ‘I don’t want to miss an opportunity.’