When the Heather Blooms (16 page)

‘I want to be a farmer but Daddy says that's nonsense.'

‘Well, supposing you persuade him to change his mind, you will need to study chemistry to go to college or university. There's a lot of science in agriculture, and a lot of maths too with all the calculations you'll need to do. Libby tells me you're a good wee cook. Wouldn't you like to do something like that?'

‘Oh yes, I like cooking,' Mimi nodded. ‘I've been first in cooking in all the exams so far.' Her wide mouth drew into a stubborn line. ‘But you can't side-track me, Uncle Josh. I still want to be a woman farmer.'

‘That's all right then, Mimi. I know better than to argue with a determined young woman like you.' She began to giggle.

‘Oh, Uncle Josh, you are funny.' She lowered her voice, ‘And I'm ever so glad you married Auntie Charlotte and got baby Lucy. I will come to see you sometimes, and not just because I want you to help me with my homework.'

‘That's a deal then. When Peter goes away you can come to tea on your way home sometimes, maybe on Fridays, eh? So long as you remember to tell your mother so she knows you'll be late home. I'll drive you up the glen to High Bowie after Lucy has had her bath.'

‘I'd love that, Uncle Josh!' Mimi wound her thin arms around his neck and hugged him. He felt a pang of pity for her. She hero-worshipped Peter because he was kind to her and ignored her disabilities but he feared she was in for some heartache in the future. It wouldn't be long before her companions at school were going to teenage dances and parties. They all seemed to be growing up faster these days. Willie joined him, packing his pipe.

‘I'm going outside for a smoke,' he said. ‘You coming for a stroll?'   

‘All right, I'll come for a wee while,' he agreed, after glancing towards Charlotte to see whether everything was all right with her and Lucy. Willie saw him and grinned as they stepped into the yard together.

‘I never thought I'd see you so smitten, young Josh.'

‘What d'you mean, smitten?' Josh demanded.

‘Why with your wife, and a bairnie as weel now. You barely take your eyes off them.'

‘Aye, he's got it bad,' Andrew agreed, following them outside, a wide grin on his face.

‘I'm just following the example of my older brothers, as usual,' Josh grinned back at them.

‘Och! When did you ever follow our example?' Willie demanded.

‘No getting away from it, Josh,' Andrew nodded, ‘You've done it your way but you've got a fine wife in the end, even if it did take ye a long while.'

‘Aye and a fine house, tae, so Mary tells me,' Willie said. ‘Ye could have knocked me down wi' a feather when I heard ye'd bought Lintysmill.'

Josh knew his elder brothers enjoyed teasing him a bit. They always had.

‘Speaking of Lintysmill, I shall have about twenty acres of good land to let next spring. Are either of you interested?'

‘I'm always interested in more land,' Andrew said serious now. ‘It neighbours Throstlebrae so …'

‘It does, and it neighbours Quarrybrae too,' Josh reminded him, hiding a smile. ‘Mr Adamson called to see whether I'd thought of selling or renting a couple of fields.'

 ‘Adamson! Did he, by jove?' Andrew whistled. ‘He doesn't miss a chance. You wouldn't favour him in front of your own brother though, would you, Josh?'

‘Adamson didn't waste much time.' Willie remarked. ‘You'll need to watch him, Andrew. Hasn't his lassie got her eye on Fraser?'

‘I don't know which way round it is,' Andrew frowned, ‘but they seem to go around together. Well Josh, what about it, then? Do you want to sell twenty acres?'

‘I don't want to sell any, but I'll rent them to you if you make me a fair offer.'

‘Mmm, you're turning into a businessman, little brother,' Andrew grinned. ‘All right then. I'll make enquiries and see what sort of rents the farmers on the Croston Estate are paying and I'll let you know.'

‘I saw you and Mimi were having quite a talk?' Willie remarked, and Josh guessed that was the real reason Willie had wanted him outside. Andrew excused himself.

‘Yes,' Josh nodded. ‘I've offered to help her with her maths and science if she needs me when Peter leaves. I told her she could come to tea and see Lucy being bathed some Friday evenings. I thought it might be easier for her to ask for help if she gets into the habit of calling on us, and she does love children.'

‘Aye, she does.' Willie sighed. ‘She's going to miss Peter. He's a fine laddie and he has a kind heart. The trouble is she's finding they're not all like that since she moved to a bigger school. We think some of them tease her and the teachers can't keep an eye on them all the time as they did at Darlonachie.'

‘There's always some who pick on their weaker brethren,' Josh nodded, ‘but Mimi's such a pretty wee thing …'

‘Aye, and Mary reckons that willna help her with the other girls. Looks mean a lot to females, she says. They get jealous, whereas the lads tease girls like Mimi because they're different. She's not as happy as she was and she can't keep up with Lachie either. They're in different classes now. He used to protect her a bit but they don't see each other as much as they did. Anyway, it's not your problem, Josh, but it's not all joy having bairns, just remember that. You'd suffer for them if you could but life isna that simple, is it?'

‘No, I'm afraid it's not,' Josh said, remembering some of the bullies, and the bullied, from his RAF days. ‘All we can do is help them stand on their own feet and build their confidence. Mimi has plenty of courage and determination. She may be a bit miserable sometimes but I guarantee she'll grit her teeth and learn to cope.'

‘Aye, maybe you're right, Josh. You know more about bairns and their schooling than I do, and thanks for offering to help her. Neither 'o us were that fond o' schooling so we canna expect Mimi to be brilliant.'

‘She must be intelligent or she wouldn't have passed for the Academy,' Josh reasoned.

‘I suppose so. It just seems to have been a shock to her when Lachie finds it all so easy. He hasna told Andrew and Victoria yet but he confides in Mimi. He fancies being a vet.'

‘That will be a disappointment, then,' Josh reflected. ‘Andrew and Victoria have made a lot of sacrifices to buy Throstlebrae so Lachie and Fraser would have an equal start in farming. Still …' he shrugged, frowning, ‘there's no good trying to run other people's lives. It's hard enough making the right decisions in our own.' 

Chapter Fifteen

Both Maggie and Libby looked forward to Billy's return to Darlonachie during the holidays, but although he came for Christmas and again at Easter he spent more time with Willie on the High Bowie moor than he spent at Home Farm. Libby didn't mind because she was often at High Bowie herself when she was not helping her mother with calves or hens.

She loved looking after Mimi and Mary appreciated her help. Sometimes Willie brought Billy into the house to join them for the midday meal or afternoon tea if Libby was there. They often walked part of the way home together. He answered her eager questions willingly and told her about his life as a student.

‘I am going back to work on the farm in Yorkshire for most of the summer holidays,' he said the day before he returned to college at the end of the Easter holiday. He was too preoccupied taking in the well-loved landscape to see Libby's disappointment.

‘I think I should enjoy going to Agricultural College,' she said. Billy turned and stared at her.

‘Why would you want to do that? I thought you were going to teach children.'

‘I never said that!'

‘Well you're very good with Mimi. You're only fourteen, but it's what your mother thinks you're going to do. She told my mother so. I think you'd make a good teacher, Libby. Mimi adores you, and so does that wee scamp of a brother.'

‘I love them too, but it doesn't mean I want to spend my life teaching. I'd like to go to an agricultural college, but I want to learn more about dairy farming and cows than you seem to do.'

‘Our course is general agriculture, a bit of everything. You'd have to choose a college where they teach you about dairying. I know there's one in Devon, and Lancashire I think. There's the one in Ayrshire of course. You would have to work for a year on a farm first, before you went. It's one of the conditions. They like practical people. Mr Butler is a good farmer and I'm pleased I had him to show me the ropes before I started college. Your father made enquiries and one of the NFU men recommended him, you know. A lot of the chaps are older than me and they've done a lot more science, but I've nearly caught up with them. Some of them don't care whether they pass their exams or not. Most of them are going to family farms or estates. They think they're young gentlemen. They don't intend to dirty their hands but I'm looking forward to going back to Yorkshire when I finish at college.'

‘Oh Billy you're not!' Libby stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. He was eighteen now and a lot taller than she was. ‘Your mother is expecting you will come back to look after Home Farm when you finish at college.'

‘Why ever would I do that? I enjoy being in Yorkshire. I've made some good friends there and I've still a lot to learn. She has a good manager now. Thank God she got rid of Riddel.'

‘You never liked him much, did you?'

‘I hated him!' Billy spoke vehemently. ‘He was a sly, jealous weasel of a man and he had a spiteful tongue.' His face had a shuttered look. ‘I soon learned to keep out of his way.'

‘But that's exactly what he wanted, don't you see?'

‘Maybe it was. I was too young to stand up to him anyway, and for all I know some of the things he said could be true.' He kicked a stone viciously and his mouth was set, his eyes narrowed. Then he lifted his head and stared into the distance at the moorland rising above them as far as the eye could see. The sheep were mere dots here and there. He looked down at her again and his face softened. ‘You were the only one who didn't criticise. Now I don't care because I've found people who like me for myself and they don't care who my father was or what my mother did. I don't need to talk about them.' Young as she was Libby detected an underlying bitterness in him and a fierce determination to stay away from Darlonachie and its gossip.

‘Your mother will be terribly disappointed,' she said earnestly. ‘She misses you. So do I,' she added and then blushed and turned away so that he wouldn't see.

In the summer of 1952 Billy left college with a diploma in agriculture. In spite of his mother's pleading he knew he was not ready to return to Darlonachie. Maybe he never would return. There was a place and a welcome for him at the farm in Yorkshire where he had done his pre-college practical work. His friendship with Mick, his boss's only son, had strengthened in spite of his two years away at college. He enjoyed the variety of the work too with the beef and sheep, corn, potatoes, and sugar beet, but he was also looking forward to joining the village brass band again and to singing in the young farmers' concert with Mick. Most of all he was his own person, William Lennox, not the bastard of the local laird who had inherited a farm he didn't deserve.

‘You're not learning anything about dairy farming and Home Farm depends on the dairy herd,' Maggie protested, interrupting his thoughts.

‘Give me time, Mother!' He swallowed his irritation and guilt with an effort. ‘Mr Butler understands that so he's arranged for me to spend six months with his brother-in-law. He has a big dairy herd, and he's changed from Ayrshire cattle to pedigree Friesians.' He gave her a glimpse of his old mischievous smile, ‘and he has a pretty young daughter.'

Maggie didn't return his smile, or ask any questions. She had begun to wonder whether Billy would ever return to Darlonachie. He seemed to have no interest in Home Farm, in fact whenever she mentioned the inheritance his mouth tightened and he changed the subject. She began to ask herself why she bothered to carry on the farm. She would be fifty next year and sometimes she felt twice her age. Victoria and Andrew were the only close friends she had. They visited each other regularly and she was grateful for their friendship. She had lots of acquaintances of course but it was not the same as having Billy at home, living in the house, enjoying the meals she cooked. She even missed his dirty washing and making his bed each day.

Every week she wrote to him giving him news of Home Farm but she felt she had little else to say which would interest him. He replied regularly but the letters were often scrappy and she guessed they were more a duty rather than a pleasure. She knew Libby wrote to him and gave him all the local news. Victoria had mentioned the long letters she received in return. Maggie's life seemed so depressing, living alone in the big farmhouse which she had once thought so lovely. She felt tired and lacking her old enthusiasm for the simple pleasures she had always enjoyed, a walk on a crisp frosty morning, the sight of a litter of new puppies, or a dew-spangled spider web. Everything seemed an effort and she didn't have the energy to cope.

Mimi started at the village school in Darlonachie after Easter. Libby had taught her to write her name in large round letters and she knew all the letters of the alphabet and already recognised some simple words. Willie doted on his small curly-headed daughter with her wide smile and sparkling blue eyes. He insisted she was too small to walk the three miles to the village alone. Mary laughed and teased him.

‘Willie Pringle, that child can wind you round her wee finger. We all walked miles to school as soon as we were an age to go.'

‘Aye,' his eyes clouded momentarily, ‘but I had George for company, and there was always Andrew looking out for us.'

‘Aye and hard work it was for him, if I remember. You and George were always up to mischief and getting into trouble.' Her eyes sparkled up at him. He hugged her close.

‘I'm glad to see your old spirits have returned, Mary. I really thought I was going to lose you when Mimi was born. I would never have stayed here if anything had happened to you.'

‘Well nothing did, and I'm fine.'

‘Aye you're really blooming, bonnier by the day ye are.'

‘Is that so, Willie?' Mary eyed him with a spark of humour, ‘or are ye trying to get round me for something?'

‘I mean it,' he chuckled, ‘of course I do. But er … well I did think we should drive Mimi down to the village until she's a bit older.'

Mimi Pringle had all of her parents' independent spirit and it was not long before she was meeting Lachie where the High Bowie track joined the new bridge onto the Langmune road.

‘When I learn to ride a bicycle will you buy one for me?' she asked Willie. ‘Lachie is learning already and he's going to get Fraser's old bicycle when he's six.'

‘Of course we'll get you a bicycle, ma bairn,' Willie said fondly. ‘What do you say, Mary?'

‘Yes. Old Mr Crabbe still has the cycle shop. We'll ask him to look out for one for a special wee girl.' Mary beamed at her. ‘If we get one in the summer holidays Daddy will teach you to ride.' She laughed up at Willie. ‘That's a father's job. No shirking, mind!'

Libby had taught Lachie his letters too and he was good at counting. Victoria had noticed how patient her daughter was with her young brother and small cousin and she was convinced Libby was born to be a teacher.

The maternal dream looked like coming true when Libby reached sixteen and gained an excellent school certificate at Dumfries Academy, so it was a shock when her only daughter declared she had no intention of staying at school to get a higher school certificate, nor did she intend to become a teacher.

‘I want to work here, at Langmune. I want to learn everything, not just how to milk, or feed the calves and hens. I want to drive a tractor and learn to plough, and everything else. Then I shall go to college like Billy but I shall study dairy farming.' Victoria stared at her in dismay. She looked at Andrew, expecting him to tell Libby such an idea was impossible. Andrew said nothing.

‘Tell her, Andrew, there's no future for a girl in farming. She would be wasting her ability.' Andrew raised one eyebrow and did his best not to smile. Libby saw the irony of it and pounced.

‘Farming is your life, Mother. You're happy here.'

‘That's different. They're our own animals. It's our future – and our children's future, and …'

‘The work is just the same. It's what I want to do.'

‘You don't understand, Libby. You have a good brain and you can have a career. Your father and I never had that opportunity. Anyway it will be a big enough struggle getting Fraser and Lachie into farms now we have two sons.'

‘Fraser could have a career then. He does well enough at school. He doesn't know half as much about the animals as I do, does he, Dad?'

‘No-o,' Andrew said reluctant to be drawn into this debate. He could see both sides of the argument. ‘We'll discuss it later.' He scraped his chair back and made for the door.

‘There's nothing to discuss,' Victoria insisted. ‘We can't make three of them into farmers.' Andrew heard but he closed the door behind him, causing Victoria to purse her lips in frustration.

‘I didn't say I wanted you to set me up in a farm,' Libby argued, ‘but I don't see why you should do that for my brothers if you don't want to do it for me.'

‘There's no future for you in farming, Libby. What will you do when you finish at college? Come home and work here? Expect us to pay you a wage?'

‘Well why not, if I earn it?'

‘Your father and I are not going to live for ever. What happens if your brothers get married and take over Langmune? Will you want to be a paid servant for them and their wives?' Libby scowled and Victoria sighed heavily.

‘I only want what is best for you, dear,' she said more gently. ‘I want you to have a career and be able to earn your own living, a good living. There's a scarcity of teachers since the war, and you're so good with children.'

‘I don't want to be a teacher!' Libby hurried outside, near to tears and unwilling to let her mother see. It hurt to know her parents thought more of Fraser and Lachie than they did of her, and neither of them worked as hard as she did.

She wrote to Billy and poured out her problems. She asked him for particulars of the agricultural colleges which accepted women students. She would send for a prospectus from the ones he had recommended for dairying. She would convince her father she had made up her mind. Her mouth set in a determined line.

Lying in bed that evening, unable to sleep, Libby heard the voices of her parents and she guessed they were discussing her future. She had never heard them quarrel but she knew they were arguing when she heard her father's voice rising irritably.

‘She's been telling us for a long time this is what she wants to do,' Andrew said trying to be patient, ‘and you know she can be as stubborn as her lovely mama,' he added with a smile in his voice. His hand moved to caress Victoria's stomach. She pushed it away.

‘I expected you to support me in this, Andrew. You know teaching would be a good career for any girl and Libby has the brains for it.'

‘I know she does, but if it would make her unhappy … I love the land and the animals. They're in my blood. Even if my parents had been wealthy I don't think I would have wanted to do anything different with my life.'

‘Yes, but you were lucky Fraser Rennie was so generous to you. We were both lucky …'

‘But we had to work hard and make our own decisions first. We had to strive for what we wanted. Things don't just happen. Anyway, look at Josh. He wanted to be a teacher all his life but now he's going to be a lecturer and train students how to teach.'

‘Well that's near enough the same thing, surely. I know …' Victoria exclaimed. ‘I'll get Josh to talk to Libby. He thinks the world of her. He'll soon persuade her how sensible it would be.'

‘If you say so,' Andrew sighed. In his heart he felt Libby had already made up her mind, and their daughter was made of stern stuff. She had all of their determination in her blood. He knew Victoria was right too, teaching would be a better future for her. He kissed his wife gently and settled down to sleep.

However much Victoria and Willie loved their respective daughters, however carefully they planned for them, or wanted the best in life for them, fate had a nasty habit of interfering and dealing cruel blows when least expected.