Heather Song

by Michael Phillips

  “Oh, yes, my lady,” replied my acquaintance from the co-op. “I’ve always loved the harpie, though yer’s isna a wee harpie like the ballad makers use, but ane the likes o’ the angels maun play.”

  That is often how it begins—the shy glances…the staring at the instrument with all its unique and historical and spiritual allure…the timid approach.

  The next question I ask when I see the familiar pattern unfolding always catches people off guard, just as it did on this day.

  “Would you like to try it?”

  Before Cora knew what to think, I was on my feet and urging her to sit down in my chair and showing her where to put her fingers.

  “I dinna ken…,” she began as she flushed crimson.

  Before she could finish her sentence, her fingers were touching the strings and she gently began to pluck at them.

  The magic of the harp did the rest. Without either of us yet knowing it, I had just enlisted my second student.

  “Would you like to learn to play a song?”

  “I doobt I could, Yer Grace. I’ve ne’er been too smart at sich things. Adela says she’s takin’ lessons fae ye, but she was always mair o’ a musical bent nor me.”

  “I think you could do it, too,” I said. “Would you like to try?”

  Cora nodded sheepishly.

  “Then in an hour or two, after everyone leaves, why don’t you come back? You and I will go inside and I will teach you a song.”

  “I’d be pleased, Yer Grace. But are ye sure ye dinna mind? I dinna want tae cause ye no bother.”

  “There is nothing that gives me greater pleasure than to see someone learning to play the harp. Come to the front door, and Alicia will bring you to me.”

  The next two women who asked me about learning to play the harp were also friends of both Cora MacKay and Alicia Forbes. At first it struck me as coincidental, until I remembered that in Port Scarnose everybody knew everybody. Their names were Tavia Maccallum and Fia Gordon. I had met Tavia at Isobel Gauld’s B and B when I first came to Port Scarnose, and I had visited with her a few times when out walking. She worked for Mrs. Gauld part-time, and she also worked from home doing some kind of computer research. Fia now lived in Portsoy and worked at the bakery on the square and had seen me playing during the boat festival. The two of them had talked about me. Even before Fia had spoken with me about lessons, with Adela, Cora, and Tavia coming regularly to the castle once a week, I realized my supply of available practice harps was nearly exhausted. With the addition of two more students, I would no longer have enough to go around.

  I began researching harpmakers in Scotland besides the one in Ballachulish, with an eye to purchasing more practice instruments as well as having information on availability for those who might want to buy their own. With the bank account Alasdair had given me, money wasn’t a problem. But I was frugal by nature, and I wanted to find the best harps for the money, especially for those who would purchase their own. The nearest harpmaker, of course, was nearby in Fordyce, only five miles away, but his tended to be specialty harps not especially well suited for beginners.

  My thoughts also turned to Ranald Bain. I might be able to borrow his harp on occasion—temporarily, of course…I would not want to deprive him of it for long! Or even send one or another of the ladies up the Bin, either to practice on Ranald’s harp in his cottage or have a lesson with him. He had become accomplished enough in a short time to be able to help them work on the basics of technique and the same songs I would be teaching them.

  I said nothing to the others about involving Ranald for the present, however. Until I actually needed another harp, it was best to keep the ladies practicing as much as possible every day in their own homes. I must admit my little studio looked suddenly bare with only the Queen, Journey, and Ring. But it gave me such a good feeling that the other three harps were out in the community being played upon.

  After several weeks, I asked the ladies if they would like to come to the castle and bring their harps all at the same time and, along with their regular lessons, begin working together as an ensemble. I usually tried to involve my students in both avenues whenever possible. Being forced to play in rhythm and harmony with a group sharpened awareness and skills, and nearly always accelerated individual progress. All three women were enthusiastic, and so it was arranged. It was about that same time when Fia asked me one day in the bakery in Portsoy if I gave harp lessons. I suggested she come and have her first lesson just before I had arranged for the ensemble’s first meeting. Then she could stay and meet the others.

  I didn’t realize beforehand that the four had known one another most of their lives. Nor until they arrived did the rest know that Fia had just had her first lesson. None of the other three had seen her in years. The unexpected reunion of their girlhood friendship was yet the more remarkable as our first ensemble lesson was breaking up and Alicia came in with tea. I had met Fia at the door earlier and until that moment, Alicia had not seen her.

  “Fia!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t…How do you come to be here?”

  “I came for a harp lesson,” replied Fia. “That’s right…I had forgotten. So you are still the housekeeper here?”

  “Still here,” replied Alicia.

  She set down the tea things. The two women embraced warmly. “And look who else is here!” said Fia. “Adela and Cora and Tavia. I couldn’t believe it when I walked in—all together again at last.”

  “I knew they were coming,” Alicia said with a nod. “I see them all regularly now, but you…It is so good to see you!”

  “And you! You look so good—you’re not a day older.”

  “And you’re still as big a liar as ever!” rejoined Alicia. “But thank you. You look well, too.”

  “No’ quite ilka ane is here,” said Adela in a more somber tone as she walked over to join the other two.

  A few glances went about that seemed to carry more significance than I was aware of.

  “Has anyone seen Olivia recently?” asked Fia, obviously reminded of my sister-in-law by Adela’s cryptic comment. “I heard she and Max moved to Aberdeen, but I haven’t seen her in years.”

  “She is in Aberdeeen, ’tis true,” said Adela. “But I wasna referrin’ tae her.”

  A silence followed, with another few curious expressions that successfully put a damper on the conversation.

  “I am so glad you all came,” I said, trying to disperse the sudden cloud. “I thought you all did great. As soon as Fia has a few more lessons, we will be a regular fivesome ready to take our show out on the road!”

  “Let me hear you play something while the tea is cooling,” said Alicia, pouring out tea in six cups.

  “You heard her, ladies,” I said. “Back to your harps—how about ‘The Shearin’s No’ for You’? Fia, right hand only. Oh, but wait just a minute…I’ll run up and get Journey and join in. I was playing in my room before you came and left it there.”

  I hurried from the room, ran upstairs, and returned two or three minutes later. As I walked in, the five women were gathered together in a small circle, talking in hushed tones. The exuberance of their reunion had been replaced by secretive whispering. I managed to catch only snatches of a few phrases.

  “…what aboot…dinna ye mind…”

  “…the foreigner…”

  “…married her brither…not anymore…”

  “…what she said…aboot beware…”

  “…jist mair o’ her nonsense…”

  “…wud she think…ken we were here…”

  They clammed up and moved apart the moment I entered. We limped through “The Shearin’s No’ for You,” then set aside the harps for tea, with Alicia joining us. However, the mood remained subdued for five or ten minutes.

  It was a curious gathering. After the enthusiasm of their first greetings, I expected them to talk and laugh and babble like ladies do, catching up on their lives. Yet finding themselves all together so unexpectedly had just the opposite effect. The odd g
lances and peculiar bits of conversation continued. No matter how I tried to bring up subjects I thought would prompt more talk, and in spite of all the questions I asked about what it was like to grow up in Port Scarnose, they remained subdued. I felt more like an outsider than I had in a year. I couldn’t help thinking the peculiar change in mood had something to do with Olivia.

  “There is one other harper nearby,” I said after a while. “When we have had a few more times together and you are all several months into your lessons and know more songs, I thought we could invite him to join us. He also plays the violin, so there would be all sorts of possibilities for music we could make together. Maybe some of you know him…He lives up toward Crannoch Bin—his name is Ranald Bain.”

  The words fell like a stone in our midst. The room went dead silent. I looked around at the others. Everyone sat with blank expressions, with wide eyes and white faces, hands holding cups arrested halfway to their mouths. I couldn’t imagine what had caused such a reaction. Gradually they began to glance at one another, full of unspoken question. But no one uttered a peep.

  My suggestion put an even greater damper on the rest of the afternoon. After tea and a little more awkward small talk, gradually the women left.

  When they were gone, I found Alicia in the kitchen cleaning up the tea things.

  “Alicia,” I said, “do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Of course not.”

  “When I came into the room after going upstairs to get my harp, you and the others were talking quietly. It’s none of my business, I know, but I heard Adela saying the word beware—”

  “Adela has too free a tongue for her own good,” snapped Alicia with uncharacteristic bluntness. “She’s too prone to tales.”

  “But what did she mean—beware? Beware of what?”

  “It’s nothing, Marie.”

  “Please, Alicia, tell me.”

  Alicia glanced away but still said nothing.

  I waited. Finally, as she realized I wasn’t going away, she drew in a breath of resignation.

  “It’s just one of those things Olivia spread after you came, when all the trouble about Gwendolyn and Alasdair was stirred up.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said that you were trying to keep her from what she deserved.”

  The reminder of Olivia’s attempt to subvert Alasdair’s reputation and keep Gwendolyn from her father made my blood boil.

  “But beware of what, Alicia?”

  “Of you, Marie.”

  “Me?”

  Alicia nodded reluctantly.

  “Why beware of me? What harm could I possibly have been to anyone?”

  “She said that you were after Alasdair’s money. I’m sorry.”

  “Ahhgh!” I exclaimed in disgust. “I can’t believe it! I mean, I suppose I knew she was saying such things, but—”

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “What did she say exactly?” I asked after a moment.

  “There was a verse she whispered about town.—Must I tell you, Marie?”

  “Yes, Alicia.”

  “All right,” she sighed, then said:

  “Of this stranger and idler beware.

  Though her music seems soft and sweet,

  and her words and smiles so fair,

  in her heart lies only deceit.”

  “That’s it?” I said.

  Alicia nodded.

  “It’s mean-spirited,” I said, actually relieved, “but it seems harmless enough. I thought it would be something really horrible.”

  “None of Olivia’s verses are harmless,” rejoined Alicia.

  I asked her what she meant. But nothing I could say would induce her to say more on the subject, and at last I gave it up for the day.

  Tavia’s lesson was scheduled three days later, and Cora came on the same day right after Tavia. Whatever had been going on before seemed forgotten by then. As Alicia knew the other women, gradually it became our custom to have tea together between lessons, with Alicia joining us. She seemed to enjoy rekindling her former friendships after so long, despite the specter of Olivia that always seemed lurking not far away.

  It occurred to me once or twice that Olivia might be preparing herself for the time when she would come back to Castle Buchan as a ghost. It almost seemed that she was already haunting the place, if only in the minds of the ladies who had coincidentally all been drawn back to the place they had known as children.

  Being so far inside the castle, I hadn’t heard Alasdair drive up as we were having our tea. I was surprised when he walked into the studio suddenly.

  “Marie, I was thinking, if you were free this afternoon, we—” he began as he walked through the door.

  He stopped abruptly as he saw Alicia, Tavia, and Cora sitting with me, teacups in hand.

  “Oh…sorry—I didn’t realize you had guests,” he said, standing still with an expression on his face I didn’t quite understand. He looked back and forth between the others for a moment. His mind was obviously revolving something.

  “Hello, Tavia,” he said at length. “I haven’t seen you in some time…Cora,” he added, then turned and left.

  “Excuse me,” I said. I set down my cup and ran to the door. Alasdair was disappearing along the corridor. I hurried after him, but he was walking quickly.

  “Alasdair,” I called behind him. I caught up with him and fell into step at his side. “I will be free in an hour,” I said, “after my lesson with Cora, if you—”

  “Forget it,” he said, still walking rapidly and not looking at me.

  “But if you—”

  “Forget it,” he said again. “It’s all right. I can see you’re busy.”

  “I only have the two lessons, and Tavia is just leaving. I didn’t realize you knew her.”

  “Yes, well…life is full of surprises.”

  “Alasdair, what in the world is wrong?”

  At last he stopped and turned toward me.

  “What are those women doing here?” he asked almost angrily.

  “I told you—just having harp lessons. I thought you—”

  “But why are they here together…and with Alicia…Why are they together ? What were you talking about?”

  “I don’t know…nothing. Harp stuff.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, of course. What else would you think it was?”

  “I don’t know, nothing…I just— Forget it. I just wondered if Olivia’s little clique of mischief was back in business and if you were getting drawn into the web.”

  “What web?”

  “Olivia’s web—they were all part of it.”

  “I know nothing about that. Please, Alasdair, I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.”

  “There are things you don’t know, Marie.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “It’s best you don’t know about them. Are you telling me that Olivia’s name never came up…that you only talked about your harp lessons?”

  “Yes…Well, she came up a time or two, but only in passing and then everyone clammed up and no one said anything about her. Actually, it was strange.”

  “So there was no talk of trying to initiate you into their little secretive club?”

  “Secretive club? They haven’t been together in years— Good heavens, no, there was nothing like that. If anything, just the opposite. I felt like the odd woman out.”

  “It would be Olivia’s pattern—to worm her way between us anyway she could to destroy the only time of happiness I have known in my life.”

  “Nothing will destroy it, Alasdair. Olivia is in Aberdeen. She’s got nothing to do with any of this.”

  “She has everything to do with it when those ladies are together. She can manipulate and control even when she is nowhere around. Maybe it’s telepathy, I don’t know.”

  “I assure you, it’s nothing at all like that.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Alasdair, then he continued on down th
e hall, leaving me more perplexed than ever.

  If this had been our first “fight,” I suppose it was a mild one.

  Still, I didn’t like how it felt.

  Chapter Nine

  Crannoch Bin

  Thickest night, o’erhang my dwelling!

  Howling tempests, o’er me rave!

  Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,

  Still surround my lonely cave!

  Crystal streamlets gently flowing,

  Busy haunts of base mankind,

  Western breezes softly blowing,

  Suit not my distracted mind.

  —Robert Burns, “Strathallan’s Lament”

  All this time we heard nothing from Iain Barclay. I cannot say I forgot about him—I could never do that—but memories of our times together gradually receded into the background of my life with Alasdair.

  One day, however, my curiosity got the better of me. There was one man in the neighborhood who was sure to know what had become of the former minister of Deskmill Parish. If anyone knew, that man would be Iain’s former spiritual mentor, Ranald Bain.

  “How would you fancy a drive up the Bin to visit Ranald Bain?” I asked Alasdair at breakfast.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” he replied. “I have a meeting with the accountant of the Fochabers estate to review some of our contingent leases. We’re having lunch together at Baxters. How about tomorrow?”

  “Isn’t a storm coming in from Shetland tonight?”

  “Actually, I think you’re right. Then go yourself and enjoy the sun while you can. And give Ranald my best.”

  Alicia came in to clear up the breakfast things a little while later.

  “Alicia,” I said, “how would you like to take a walk up the Bin with me later?”

  She turned with the tray in her hands. “Today?” she said.

  “Yes, in a few hours…when it warms up. I’m going to visit Ranald Bain—why don’t you come with me?”

  “You’re going to the Bain croft,” she said with a strange look on her face. “Alone?”

  “Yes, of course!” I laughed. “What do you mean, alone?”