When the Heather Blooms (3 page)

The November days were short and cold and a damp mist had swirled in as darkness fell. All Victoria craved was a hot cup of tea and an early night. It was a relief to tumble into bed and snuggle into Andrew's familiar embrace. On the way home from the station she had given him a sketchy report of the day's events. Now she answered his questions about Peter and about Doctor Deane Sterling. His arms tightened.

‘Don't worry, Vicky. If the laddie has half the character of you and Mark he will be a survivor. His life could never be as hard as yours was.'

‘No but I had your mother and father and I knew they loved me and wanted me. I'm almost certain Deane Sterling doesn't love Peter, and I'm not even sure he will want him unless he agrees to become a doctor. He expects to be in control.'

‘Well, we know it's not possible to control a youngster who has the courage to make his – or her – own decisions. We'll invite Peter to stay with us at Easter. He will get to know us, and our way of life. It will give him new horizons and time and space to think. If he wants to return here during the summer holidays we shall make him welcome. We must take one step at a time.'

‘Oh Andrew, it is a relief to know you feel like that about Mark's son.'

‘It's no different to the way you help my brothers. Willie and Josh have always come to you for help when they need it. Remember how Willie and Mary were filled with despair when Mimi had polio. You and Libby helped them to face up to things. Wee Mimi may have a limp for life but at least she's alive and thanks to yours and Libby's help and Doctor Ritchie's exercises she can almost manage without her calliper now. She's a happy wee soul these days but she has real grit. Peter will have different needs but we'll help him if we can.'

‘Mimi is blessed with such a sunny smile no one could help but love her and want to help,' Victoria said. ‘You may not find Peter so easy to love if he is beset with teenage moods and the grief of losing his mother. They seem very close.'

‘So long as I have you,' Andrew whispered against the soft hollow of her neck, ‘I can deal with anything. I don't know how families coped during the war when they were separated for months, and without news. Even just for a day the house didn't seem like home without you.'

‘And I only went to Edinburgh but it seemed a nerve-racking experience to me. Imagine how George must have felt being sent to France when he'd never been away from home before.' She shuddered.

Andrew drew her closer. He knew the surest way to set aside the day's anxieties was to love her until she thought of nothing else. Besides he had missed her as though she'd been gone for a week. It made him realise how rarely they were apart. The mere thought of being without her awakened an overwhelming tenderness and he loved her with a passion that carried them into realms of ecstasy.

Lying awake afterwards with Victoria curled against him, so warm and soft, Andrew smiled to himself. He suspected Libby and Fraser considered their parents were far too old for making love, especially with the fervour they had just enjoyed. He was forty-four and Victoria was forty, which was just as well because he had been less careful than usual. There had to be some compensation in getting old, not that he ever felt old when he held Victoria in his arms, but at least they wouldn't be presented with the surprise they'd had when Lachie was born ten years ago. Fraser had been eight and Libby ten and they had thought their family was complete. Fortunately there were only a few months between Lachie and his cousin, Mimi. High Bowie farm was at the head of the glen and the two had always been great companions.                  

At Christmas Victoria received a card with the usual greeting “from Catriona and family,” but it was sixteen-year-old Peter who had written it. He had added a message.

‘Matron says I must tell you Mother has found peace since your visit, but we must accept that she cannot be with us much longer.'

Two days into nineteen fifty-eight Catriona Sterling died of the cancer that had overrun her body in recent months. Again it was Peter who wrote to tell her. He included the time and place for the funeral.

‘That's the day after tomorrow,' Victoria said in consternation. ‘I must go, for Peter's sake.'

‘I agree,' Andrew nodded, ‘but I'm coming with you this time. I hate the thought of you going alone. The weather is changing. There could be snow.'

Victoria telephoned Home Farm to tell Libby. She was surprised at her response.

‘I'd like to come to the funeral with you,' she said. ‘I'll phone you back.' A few minutes later she telephoned Langmune.

‘Mum, Billy says he will drive us all to the funeral if you think it would be all right for us to come with you?'

‘Of course it would be all right, and it will be much easier by car because it's on the outskirts of Edinburgh.'

‘I'd like to meet my new cousin, and Billy thinks we may be some support to him.' She shuddered. ‘It must be terrible losing his mother, and Doctor Sterling sounds such a grim person.'

‘Libby! Don't say that. The doctor has given him a home and brought him up all these years.'

‘But you said yourself that he wants to dictate Peter's future, Mum.'

‘No more than I tried to dictate yours,' Victoria said ruefully. ‘I wanted you to be a teacher.'

‘Well, I couldn't be happier.' Billy had come to stand close beside her and she squeezed his arm and smiled up at him. He grinned and whispered in her other ear. Victoria could hear the lilt in her daughter's voice and the murmuring in the background. There was no doubting Libby's happiness. They had known and liked Billy all his life and they respected the man he had become once he had confronted his turbulent past. Even more surprising was the kindness and support he had given his half-sister, Charlotte Crainby, after her mother had squandered her birthright, and committed suicide. Billy was her half-brother, and the only relative she had now. Victoria was proud to know Libby and Billy were prepared to show kindness to another unknown cousin. 

Chapter Three

Deane Sterling stepped back from the head of the coffin and took each of his daughters by the hand. Peter had bravely held the cord at the foot as it lowered his mother into the earth but now he stood alone and the strain on the sixteen-year-old's emotions was apparent in the silent tears which slid down his pale cheeks. Andrew moved to his side, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Victoria saw the muscle throbbing in his cheek, reminding her painfully of Mark. She moved to his other side, restraining herself from hugging him as she longed to do. He gave her a wan smile.

‘I'm sorry,' he said, ‘Father says it's unmanly to show emotion.'

‘Easier said than done,' Billy muttered, joining the family group with Libby. ‘I'm in the same boat as you, chum. I've never known my own father and we know Mother can't last long.' Peter looked at Billy with a spark of interest. Over his head Andrew's eyes registered surprised approval.

‘Peter, this is our son-in-law, Billy Lennox,' Victoria said, ‘and this is our daughter, Elizabeth, but we all call her Libby. You'll get to know both of them when you come down to stay with us. We all live in the same area.'

‘Except Uncle Josh and Charlotte,' Libby said. ‘Uncle Josh is Dad's younger brother. He's a lecturer in Glasgow. Billy's half-sister, Charlotte, is studying to be a teacher at the same college.'

‘You have half-sisters too?' Peter asked.

‘I have one half-sister. We had the same father.'

‘Do you get on well together?'

‘We do now, but one half of the family hated the other half for years,' Billy grimaced. ‘I'll tell you about it someday.'

Before they left Victoria manage to speak to Doctor Sterling.

‘We hope Peter will come to stay with us during the school holidays and his sisters will be welcome too if …'

‘I'm sure the girls would not enjoy being in the country,' Deane Sterling answered swiftly, almost with a note of alarm. ‘but Catriona thought it would be good for Peter. He'll come to his senses when he sees the way you people live.'

‘I see …' Victoria's brows arched in surprise but the Doctor had moved on before she could reply.

‘You'll have to buy Mum a refrigerator just to show how civilised you are, Dad,' Libby teased on the way home when Victoria quoted Deane Sterling's remark.

‘I might do just that, minx,' Andrew responded with a smile.

It was a crisp Sunday morning towards the end of February when Victoria and Andrew came out of the Kirk. Libby and Billy had stopped to talk to friends and Fraser and Lachie were teasing each other as usual.

‘It's a beautiful morning,' Andrew remarked, breathing in the cold air. The sun shone on the frosted grass so that it sparkled like diamonds. ‘Are we calling on Maggie, as usual?'

‘I think we should go straight home today,' Victoria said. She felt hollow inside. She had never fainted but she had felt very queasy whenever they stood to sing the hymns and the service had seemed far too long.

‘You seem out of sorts, Vicky,' Andrew remarked as they made their way to the car. ‘I've thought you looked pale once or twice lately. Are you all right?'

‘Ye-es, I think so, but I don't seem to have my usual energy.'

Victoria felt better as the day wore on but about ten days later she was overcome by a dizzy spell worse than others which had occurred. She had to sit down in the middle of serving the breakfast. Andrew hovered until Fraser had gone back to work and Lachie had left for school.

‘You must see Doctor Ritchie, Victoria,' he said. ‘You may be anaemic or …'

‘Or what?' Victoria demanded irritably. ‘I'm sorry,' she apologised. ‘I'm fine now I've had my breakfast. You know how I hate doctors and Doctor Ritchie seems so young.' Andrew knew then she had been considering a visit to the doctor herself and his fears increased.

‘Maybe he is young but Doctor Grantly had a high regard for him.'

‘I-I think it's what women call the change,' Victoria said.

‘Aren't you a bit young for that?'

‘I don't know much about it. I always thought it happened sort of naturally sometime after fifty.' She had considered mentioning it to Andrew's mother. Polly Pringle was the nearest she'd had to a mother of her own and they had always been close, but Polly had never been one for discussing women's problems or personal things. Andrew came up behind her and drew her against him, his arms encircling her. He leaned over her shoulder and kissed her cheek. It was as firm and smooth as any girl's.

‘I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you, Victoria.'

‘Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm strong as a horse,' she insisted, but Andrew slid his hands over her stomach.

‘Are you sure it couldn't be another baby?' he whispered. He couldn't hide the note of anxiety. Victoria turned to face him.

‘So … that's crossed your mind too?' she said, staring up into his tanned face. ‘I didn't think it was likely at my age. B-but …' she frowned, hesitating, ‘but if it's not the change then it must be that … It-it's three months since I …'

‘That's what I thought. You don't look forty and you've always been fit and healthy until the past few weeks.'

‘Yes, I know. Gosh, Andrew! A baby?' She stared up at him, her brown eyes wide. Now that it was out in the open, and Andrew thought the same, she acknowledged her suspicions. She had been refusing to consider such a possibility. ‘Imagine what Libby and Fraser will think if it is another baby …Whatever will they say?'

‘What can they say? We're human, Vicky, and I do love you very much, even more than the day we married, if that's possible.' His voice was husky and his arms tightened around her. ‘But I can't help worrying about you. Remember the trouble Mary had before Mimi was born.'

‘I never had any trouble with the other three,' Victoria said.

‘I know, but Lachie will soon be eleven, and …' he broke off, tracing the line of her jaw with a gentle finger. ‘Will you see the doctor?'

‘And I'm not so young this time, that's what you were going to say, isn't it?' She dimpled up at him, filled now with an odd mixture of elation and apprehension. ‘Will you mind having disturbed nights again and nappies drying on the clothes horse?'

‘So long as you're all right I shall not mind any of that. How can I when it was my fault? You will see the doctor soon?'

‘Not unless I feel ill. I never had a doctor for any of the others, and I know Doctor Ritchie too well since Mimi had polio. He's was so attentive, but he's too young …'

‘Libby says he's getting married to June Appleby soon. They've had an invitation to the wedding, haven't they? He's getting a new surgery too. The people who bought Doctor Grantly's house want the use of all the rooms so the surgery has to be moved.'

‘It will be a lot better in a separate building,' Victoria nodded approval, ‘but I still don't intend going there unless I have to.' She compressed her lips and Andrew grinned down at her.

‘You always were stubborn when you made your mind up, even when you were ten years old.' He touched her cheek affectionately, ‘but promise you'll take things easier?'

‘I will,' she nodded. ‘I never thought I'd be glad to get out my mending basket and Gran's old mushroom so I could sit darning socks.'

‘I shall have to make more holes in my socks then,' Andrew chuckled.

‘Don't you dare! There's plenty with Fraser and Lachlan. We'll have to make some plans though … We still have the cot but I wish we hadn't let Lachie use the old pram to make himself a cart.'

‘He and Mimi have had a lot of fun with it and we can afford the things a baby needs now. Libby and Fraser had to make do with hand-me-downs, and poor old Lachie had wartime rations.'

‘Yes, but he's healthy enough. I just wish I didn't feel so awkward about telling Libby and Fraser.'

‘I'll leave that to you,' Andrew nodded, his mind moving on to other things. Ever since they were married he had promised he would restore the house at Langmune to the way it had been before fire destroyed the front half. Victoria deserved a decent home. Billy and Libby had a beautiful house at Darlonachie Home Farm, inherited from Sir William Crainby, Billy's grandfather, but Langmune had once looked just as lovely. He made mental calculations of the cost. Maybe they shouldn't have bought Throstlebrae farm, but that opportunity would never arise again.  It needed a lot of renovations but they would have to wait. Victoria must come first. She had always shared his dreams but this time the restoration of Langmune would be a surprise. He wouldn't tell her until he had made the arrangements.

As the eldest son Fraser knew one of the farms would be his one day and meanwhile they could all be proud of Langmune when it was restored. Andrew frowned as a thought occurred to him. Fraser had never been jealous of Lachie in spite of the eight years between them, but would he resent having another young brother? He hoped not. Another baby around the house would keep him young. His spirits rose.

Victoria was relieved to hear him whistling a jaunty tune as he pulled on his wellingtons to go out to work. She still couldn't believe she was expecting a baby at her age but it was a relief to have her suspicions out in the open, and Andrew didn't seem to mind the prospect of another child. She knew his main concern was her own health and it was true she had never felt so tired before. 

A fortnight later she was sitting at the kitchen table sipping a cup of hot milky coffee, wondering if she had the energy to bake scones for tea, when the door burst open bringing a rush of cold March wind.

‘Libby!' Victoria exclaimed in surprise, ‘I didn't expect to see you in the middle of a weekday afternoon.'

‘I was working over the weekend so I'm having a half day today,' Libby grinned, looking rosy cheeked and full of energy. ‘I've promised to help June with her show of presents this evening.' Like everyone else she drifted towards the warmth of the Aga. ‘Ah, I see you're nursing a sick lamb.' She peered down into the cardboard box beside the cooker, drawing aside a piece of old blanket.

‘It's a bitter wind out there. It got starved so your father brought it inside. I've been coaxing it to have some warm milk with a spot of brandy to revive it.'

‘Any luck?'

‘It took a little. I'll try again in a wee while.'

‘You sound tired, Mum. Are you helping with the lambing as well as everything else?'

‘Of course not,' Victoria snapped. Libby raised her eyebrows. It was unlike her mother to be short.

‘Can I join you for a cup of tea then?'

‘It's Camp coffee but there's some hot milk left in the pan if you fancy some?'

‘Mmm, that will do me until I get home. I'll just warm it up a bit more. Meanwhile I'll get the flowers …' Even as she spoke she was across the kitchen and bounding up the stairs, calling as she went, ‘I want them to decorate my hat for the wedding. I think I left them in the bottom of my wardr …'

Victoria closed her eyes. She could visualise Libby's face as she halted on the threshold of her old bedroom. She didn't know what had made her get the cot out and polish it up already. The blankets and the little embroidered quilt were all laid out on the bed. She hadn't expected anyone to go in there now that Libby had left home, but she had been so quick. She came downstairs, carrying a shoe box containing various sprays of flowers and ribbons, but her brows were knitted in a furious frown.

‘Mother,' she growled, ‘if you think Billy and I need …' Victoria held up a hand, shaking her head. Libby looked as she had when she was a wee girl, frustrated and struggling with her temper and she knew what to say to this grown up daughter.

‘We've missed you so much, Libby dear, since you moved to Home Farm, that we … that is your father and I, thought we would try for another little girl. Not that she – or he – could ever take your place in our hearts. You know that, don't you?' she said, smiling at Libby's startled brown eyes, at her lips parted in a silent “O”.

‘You … you're? Oh Mum!' Her eyes travelled over her mother's thickening waistline. ‘Gosh I can't believe it. I-I …' She was beaming now. ‘I-I thought …'

‘I was getting the cot polished for you and Billy? I'm sorry if it's a bit of a shock. We haven't told anyone else yet.'

‘Then I'm the first to hear your news?' she beamed. ‘When will it be? Do you feel OK? Will you still be able to cope with Peter's visit? We could have him to stay with us if you like. No wonder you seem tired. Will …'

‘Steady on, Libby. I hadn't thought about Peter's visit but I'm sure I shall be fine. He must come. I can't let him down.'

‘Has he written to you?'

‘Oh yes, he's written every fortnight since his mother's funeral.'

‘Has he? So regularly?'

‘The first time I replied I didn't know what to say to a sixteen-year-old boy so I told him a few things about the animals. We'd just had a baby calf so I mentioned it. He still asks how it's getting on and he never forgets the things I've told him. He wants to know all the details and about the ducklings which hatched without us knowing the duck was sitting.'

‘It must seem like a different world to him.'

‘I suppose it is. I couldn't disappoint him. Remember we bought Fraser a Kodak Brownie for Christmas? He took photographs of some of the animals and of your father and me and Lachlan outside the house.' She grimaced. ‘Doctor Sterling will not think it's much of a house but that can't be helped. Peter seemed thrilled. He's made an album for pictures of Langmune. He would like a camera of his own to add to it.'  

 ‘It sounds as though he's hoping to make regular visits.' Libby chewed her lower lip. ‘When is the baby due?'