Cat's Cradle

by Julia Golding

  Remembering what Mrs Moir had told me about her side of the family, Rabbie and I sought out our mother’s grave in Stirling where she had lived as a girl. We made what I like to think of as our peace with our mother on New Year’s Day. Standing hand in hand by the plain headstone, we agreed that neither of us had been given the chance to know Jesse Stirling Bruce, so it was best if we put the most generous interpretation on her actions. Official family story was to be that she had meant to return for me. Her sin had been carelessness, not cruelty. She’d lived fast and messily (sounds familiar, Reader?) but not with any intent to harm her own children. My last soap-bubble dream about my mother perhaps, but this time I vowed that it would last.

  Bidding the Moirs farewell at New Lanark with promises to write and return soon, the London-bound party set off for the south in two carriages. I manoeuvred things so that Bridgit shared one with Syd and the boys, leaving Frank, Rabbie and me in the other.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Frank asked, gesturing to the vehicle travelling to our rear.

  ‘A little bit of diplomacy,’ I replied. ‘Reconciling the nations and all that.’

  Frank snorted. ‘Why don’t I trust you?’

  ‘Because you know me so well?’

  ‘You shouldn’t try and matchmake. It’ll be a disaster, you mark my words.’

  ‘O ye of little faith.’

  ‘That’s right. I’m not stupid and I know your potential for creating mayhem.’

  Rabbie had fallen asleep soon after our departure. He was currently leaning against the side of the carriage and snoring.

  ‘What are you going to do with him?’ Frank asked, now looking seriously at the rumpled twelve-year-old I had taken under my wing.

  I sighed. ‘I really don’t know. I’m a bit short of plans for myself too but I’m sure we’ll muddle through. We get on all right most of the time.’

  ‘I’ve got to go back to Cambridge – you know that, don’t you? I won’t be on hand to help.’

  ‘Yes I wouldn’t expect you to waste any more time on my brother and me, Frank. I’m so deeply in your debt, I can’t imagine how I’ll pay you back.’

  ‘By not telling me that you are a waste of my time – I won’t allow it.’

  Our pleasant bickering was interrupted by the sudden slowing of the carriage.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I asked. ‘Sheep on the road?’

  Frank put his head out of the window and ducked back in again quickly.

  ‘Worse – highwaymen.’ He felt in the door pocket and pulled out a pistol. ‘I hope John Coachman remembered to load this.’

  I shook Rabbie awake. ‘It’s best just to give them what they want.’

  Frank nodded grimly and hid the pistol under the tail of his jacket.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Rabbie asked blearily.

  ‘Get out o’ the carriages!’ demanded one of the highwaymen. ‘All o’ ye!’

  Frank reached for the door handle but Rabbie held him back. ‘It’s my cousin Malcolm,’ he explained, flashing me a regretful look.

  ‘What! Did you ask him to come for you?’ I asked accusingly.

  ‘Nae! I didna ken about this, I swear.’

  ‘Get out or I’ll shoot the coachman!’ bellowed Malcolm.

  ‘Lovely,’ muttered Frank. ‘More of Cat’s extended family.’ He jumped into the mud and held out a hand to help me down. Rabbie splashed into an ice-crusted puddle, slipping so that he had to grab on to my skirts to remain standing.

  We had stopped on a bleak stretch of road high above the Clyde Valley and now all of us were standing outside the carriages exposed to the elements. A bitter wind blew from the north, cutting through my layers of shawl and cloak. Snow scattered, stinging all areas of exposed skin, settling in drifts against the stone wall. A landscape of black, white and grey sky, it felt like the anteroom to Hell. Six of the Bruce boys, all mounted, surrounded the two carriages, guns levelled at us. Malcolm spurred his horse forward. Behind, I sensed Syd, Bridgit, Nick and Joe move to stand at our backs. Syd pushed Bridgit and me into the centre of the boys.

  ‘We’re here for the lad.’ Malcolm jerked his head at Rabbie. ‘Come away, Rabbie.’

  Frank tightened his grip on the hidden pistol. ‘He can’t go with you. If he is caught again, they’ll hang him. If you’ve Rabbie’s best interests at heart, you’ll let him go with his sister. Besides, my father gave his word to the sheriff and I would not have him proved false.’

  Willy pushed his horse forward, splashing mud on Frank’s boots and breeches. ‘Shut it, lad, or we’ll slit your throat. We’ve nae love for Sassenach lords in these parts.’

  Malcolm gave a snort of laughter. ‘And I dinna care about yer faither, yer lordship. I only want my cousin.’

  I felt Rabbie stiffen beside me. He was faced with a choice between a life he knew and the one I had offered him. It must have been both pleasant and painful to hear that he was wanted back at the tower house. I swayed towards him, putting my hand on his arm.

  ‘What do you want to do, little brother?’

  He grimaced, his brown eyes filled with longing. He wanted both, of course – the familiar and the adventure.

  ‘What’s keeping ye, lad?’ asked Malcolm. ‘Say yer goodbyes to yer sister. We best make all speed homewards now we’ve held up his lordship.’

  ‘Do you want to go with him?’ I asked quietly. ‘I won’t blame you if you choose your cousins, but it will be dangerous. You won’t be able to show your face in Lanark – perhaps you’ll have to hide out in the Highlands like they planned.’

  Rabbie rubbed the back of his hand across his nose.

  ‘I’ll write to you.’

  ‘I canna read,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Well, one of the others could read my letters to you. And . . . and maybe you’d come and see me in London some day.’

  He looked doubtful.

  ‘No, you’re right.’ I sighed. ‘If you stay, I suppose it’s unlikely we’ll meet for a very long time. If ever.’ I swallowed down my fear that he wouldn’t get a second chance escaping the noose.

  ‘Och, Cat, I dinna ken what to do.’

  The Bruces were getting impatient. Willy shouted, ‘Hey, Rabbie, we canna wait for ye. Come, or we’ll leave ye behind!’

  My brother startled me by drawing me close to put his arms around my shoulders and rest his head against mine. He seemed to be breathing me in, looking to my strength to steady his.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I whispered. ‘Whatever you decide, it’s all right.’

  Rabbie let me go and stood up straight.

  ‘Malcolm, can ye say goodbye to Nan from me? I’m no going wi’ ye – I’m staying wi’ my sister.’

  Rockets, Catherine wheels – my heart held a private little celebration all of its own.

  ‘Staying with her? Are ye sure?’ queried Malcolm, doubting what he was hearing.

  ‘Idiot!’ muttered Willy.

  ‘Aye. I’ve only just found her; I’d be daft to lose her again so soon.’

  Malcolm stared at Rabbie, then at me. My brother put his arm around my shoulder, careful of my mending injury, presenting a united front. A reluctant smile broke across Malcolm’s face.

  ‘Aye, maybe ye would be. She certainly keeps strange company. Ye’ll have an interesting time.’ He gave a whistle to the other men – a signal to depart.

  Willy nudged his horse alongside Malcolm. ‘Ye’re letting him go?’

  ‘Aye. But he kens where we are if he needs us. Is that no true, lad?’

  ‘Aye, Malcolm,’ nodded Rabbie, his voice a little thicker than usual.

  Willy spat at my feet but wheeled his horse round. ‘Ye’ll regret it, Rabbie Bruce.’

  ‘God be wi’ ye!’ Malcolm said in farewell. ‘And with that kittlin sister of yers.’

  With a shout, the Bruces urged their horses away. They galloped off uphill and across the moor, whooping and twirling their hats until they disappeared in the fog that drifted in from the north.


  Frank gave a whistle of appreciation at this flamboyant departure. ‘They’ve got style. They may be brutes but they definitely have style.’

  Syd rubbed his chin regretfully. ‘But it would’ve been a good scrap if it ’ad come to a fight.’

  ‘Next time,’ promised Rabbie, ‘I’ll let ye at them.’

  ‘Ready to head south?’ Frank asked, gesturing back into the carriage.

  ‘I am,’ I admitted. ‘What about you, little brother?’

  Rabbie helped me into my seat and sat down beside me. ‘Aye, I’ll come home with ye, sister, as long as ye stop calling me “little”.’

  ‘Well, you are.’

  The carriage surged into motion again.

  ‘Only in age, but no in feet and inches.’

  ‘But it’s age that matters –’

  ‘Are you two going to argue all the way to London?’ Frank interrupted with a groan.

  Rabbie and I exchanged a look.

  ‘We’ll give it a good go, won’t we, brother? We’ve got a lot of time to make up for sibling squabbles.’

  ‘Aye, we’ll give it our best shot,’ agreed Rabbie.

  We fell silent, waiting for Frank to be lulled into a false sense of security. I winked at Rabbie.

  ‘I want something to eat,’ he said with a creditable whine.

  ‘You should’ve had something before we left,’ grumbled Frank.

  ‘I did, but I’m still hungry.’

  ‘Too bad.’

  We waited several beats before it was my turn.

  ‘I’m bored. Are we nearly there yet?’

  ‘No!’ bellowed Frank.

  ‘Half way?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘An incey-wincey tiny bit of the way there yet?’ I wheedled.

  ‘No, no and no!’ Frank then noticed that my lips were twitching and that Rabbie had his handkerchief stuffed in his mouth. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! It was bad enough when there was just one Cat Royal – now there are two chips off the same block I swear none of us are safe!’

  Curtain falls.

  ADDLE-PATED – foolish, confused

  ARSY-VARSY – upside down

  BACK-SLANGED – made a run for it

  BANBURY TALE – invention

  BEDLEM – Bethlehem Hospital, home to unfortunate lunatics

  BUFFLE-HEADED – fool (and there are plenty of those around Covent Garden)

  CARLTON HOUSE – residence of HRH The Prince of Wales

  CAST UP YOUR ACCOUNTS – nothing to do with money and everything to do with being sick

  CATTLE – sometimes meaning horses (don’t ask me why)

  CHATTERTON’S POEMS – brilliant forgeries by a genius who died young

  CLEVELAND BAYS – breed of horses suited to carriages

  CORRA LINN – wonderful waterfall in the Clyde Valley

  CURRICLE – death trap – sorry, Frank’s spanking new carriage

  DASHER – flashy young woman

  FIRST STARE OF FASHION – to be right up to date with fashion trends

  FLAT – a gullible person

  IRISH ASSURANCE – proverbial quality of the Irish; bold, shameless

  JOLTERHEAD – idiot

  JUDGE JEFFREYS – judge famed for his merciless judgements

  LIGHTSKIRT – woman of loose morals

  ORIEL WINDOW – a window partly projecting from the building, similar to a bay window

  MAKE A CAKE OF YOURSELF – not that I ever do this, you understand, but to make yourself look foolish

  MESMER’S EXPERIMENTS – Franz Mesmer, famous for his exploits with hypnosis and channelling of animal spirits (he was barmy if you ask me)

  MULE – nothing to do with donkeys a machine for spinning and winding

  PATTENS – overshoes

  PIECER – child-worker who fixes broken threads

  RACK RENTED – forced off land by unfair rises in rent

  RATTLEPATE – empty-headed fool

  ROUND GOWN – simple, round-necked dress

  SAVE YOUR BREATH TO COOL YOUR PORRIDGE – a phrase warning you not to waste the effort

  SHIPS OF THE LINE – Royal Naval fighting ships

  TACHED – thatched

  TENTER – woman working in carding room

  TIGER – a groom (yes, i know, ridiculous, isn’t it? why not call a groom a groom?)

  TOOL – drive a carriage

  A SUPPLEMENT TO DR JOHNSON’S DICTIONARY BY CAT AND JAMIE

  AGLEY – astray, off course

  BAGREL – a touch on the short side

  BLETHERING – chattering

  BRAW – fine, handsome

  BRIGANER – bandit

  BUMBAZED – bewildered

  BUTTERY-LIPPIT – smooth-tongued

  BY-START – illegitimate offspring

  CANNA – can’t

  CANNY – clever

  CHAP – to knock

  CHUCKIE – chick

  CLACK – gossip, insolence

  CLAMJAMPHRY – rubbish

  CLASHING – idle talk, gossip

  CLOOTS – clothes

  COULDNA – couldn’t

  DAFTIE – mad person, fool

  DAIDLING – dawdling

  DIDNA – didn’t

  DINNA – don’t

  DISTRACKIT – distracted

  DOESNA – doesn’t

  DOMINIE – schoolmaster

  DOUCE – respectable

  DOWIE – ailing

  DREICH – dismal

  FAITHER – father

  FASHED – bothered

  FLECHES – fleas

  FOND – gullible

  GANG – go

  GHILLIE – gamekeeper

  GLAIKIT – stupid

  GLEG – quick

  GLEG-TONGUIT – quick-tongued, glib

  GOWK – fool

  HAIL – healthy

  HALLOCKIT – hoyden, tomboy

  HEN – girl or woman

  HEN-HERTIT – lily-livered

  ILL-DEEDIE – wicked

  ILL-LIKIT – unpopular

  ISNA – isn’t

  JUMMLED – jumbled

  KEEK – look

  KEN – know

  KITTLE – fickle, unpredictable

  KITTLIN – kitten

  LASSOCK – little girl

  MAISTER – master

  MITHER – mother

  MOSS – moor, bog

  NAE – no

  NAEBODIE – nobody

  NAETHIN – nothing

  NO – not

  PIBROCH – bagpipe music

  QUEAN – girl

  RACKLESS – reckless

  RAMSTAM – devil-may-care, rash

  RAUCLE – stern, uncouth

  REESE – flattery

  REIVERS/REIVING – thieves, thieving

  RICKLE – heap

  SAIR-WORK – hard work

  SAPSIE – weak

  SASSENACH – English person

  SCHOOLIE – teacher

  SKELPING – beating

  SKINNYMALINK – thin person

  SNECKING – stealing

  SNIPPIE – sharp-tongued person

  SOOTHLAN – southern

  THE DAY – today

  THE MORN’S NICHT – tomorrow night

  THE NICHT – tonight

  THRAWN – stubborn, pigheaded

  TON – High society, the kind of people waiters do not try to hide behind screens.

  TROON SCHOOL – play truant

  UNCHANCIE – risky, unlucky

  UNCO – strange, odd

  UNKENNIN – ignorance

  WEANS – young children

  WHEEST – hush!

  WI’ – with

  WIFIE – wife

  WIN OFF – get off

  WILLNA – won’t

  WOULDNA – wouldn’t

  WUDSCUD – wild boy or girl

 

 
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