When the Heather Blooms (6 page)

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Authors: Gwen Kirkwood

BOOK: When the Heather Blooms
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She must have languished longer than she had realised. She heard Billy calling up stairs and sat up with a great swoosh, reaching for her bathrobe.

‘You're home early, Libby. Something smells delicious.' She hurried to the top of the stairs, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining. She had pinned her glossy hair on top of her head but tendrils had escaped and curled around her face. ‘What are you doing having a bath at this time of day?'

‘Come up and I'll tell you.'

‘That's a bit risky …' Billy chuckled, taking the stairs two at a time and imprisoning her in his arms as soon as he reached the top step. His eyes darkened with desire as he caught the scent of her skin and felt the softness of body beneath her robe. ‘You're still damp,' he said, moving his mouth down the graceful curve of her neck.

‘You come and get in the bath too.' Libby was already unfastening the buttons of his shirt and pushing aside the braces he always wore for working.

‘Eh, what's this then?' His eyes sparked with passion.

‘I want to bath you like a baby,' Libby laughed, drawing him into the bathroom, already easing down his corduroy trousers, allowing her hands to linger as she felt him harden. ‘In you go,' she pushed him towards the scented water.

‘In there? Do you know what you're doing to me, Libby?' He sank into the water and looked up at her. Her robe had fallen open as she bent over him. Libby was shy about her body, about him seeing her, always insisting he turn out the light, yet here she was half naked and driving him to distraction. ‘Have you been drinking?' he asked, pulling himself up a little. She pushed him back, laughing with delight.

‘Of course I haven't been drinking but I do feel intoxicated.' She laughed and rubbed the sponge over his face, making him gasp, then over his chest, moving down and further down until he groaned at her detailed washing. ‘Shall I do your back now?' she asked, her eyes holding his gaze as her hands roused him still more.

‘No!' He leapt out of the bath, splashing water everywhere, but Libby didn't care as he hugged her against him, pushing aside her gown so that they were skin to skin, pressed together. ‘I don't know what's got into you, wife o' mine, but whatever it is I like it.' His mouth nuzzled the softness of her breasts.

‘Would you like your dinner now?' Libby asked innocently.

‘Dinner!' he growled. ‘I thought I was hungry but it's you I want to devour.' He lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, falling onto the bed together, unwilling to part from her, even for a moment. Libby felt liberated for the first time in her life and her response was everything Billy could desire but he sighed as he drew away to reach for the drawer where he kept the hated condoms. ‘Passion killers' he called them. Libby held his arm. ‘There's no need for them anymore.'

‘What?' His eyes widened as he stared down into her flushed face and shining eyes. ‘You've been to the doctor? You – you …? I don't …'

‘Love me Billy, just love me. Now …'

He did.

Much later they ate by the light of the candles. Outside the birds sang their last songs of the day as the calm of the April evening descended. Through the window the sun set in a glory of vermilion and gold, aquamarine and orange as the purple shadows of evening enveloped the world at the close of the day.

Libby felt loved and cherished beyond her wildest imaginings as Billy came to stand behind her, his arms sliding under her arms, drawing her close.

‘I love you so much, Libby.'     

The following evening Libby drove to her Gran's cottage on her way home from work. She had warned Billy she would be a little late.

‘Charlotte will be coming to stay tomorrow and I want to persuade Granny Pringle to come here for Easter Sunday lunch. I want her to meet Charlotte so much. I want them to like each other, or at least accept each other.' She smiled at Billy and stretched her arms wide. ‘I want everyone in the world to be as happy as we are.'

‘That's impossible,' Billy grinned, seizing her and whirling her around until she was dizzy. He gave her a lingering kiss. ‘If you don't leave now I shall imprison you here for the rest of the day.' Then more seriously he added. ‘I'll come with you to your Granny's this evening, if you think it would help? After all Charlotte is my half-sister.'

‘When Granny makes up her mind nothing helps,' Libby said, pouting her lower lip. ‘But I intend to have a good try. I don't want her to spoil Easter for any of us, including Uncle Josh. I know he believes he's too old for Charlotte, but she does like him and she trusts him. She will be finished at college in a few weeks' time so she will not be his student then. If he does love her I think he ought to have his chance of happiness too.'

‘Oh, I couldn't agree more,' Billy agreed, ‘but he will never marry Charlotte if it means hurting his mother. We both know your Granny has plenty of reasons to hate the Crainbys.'

‘Only Henrietta Crainby,' Libby said. ‘She liked everyone else. She says everyone respected Sir William and he was Charlotte's grandfather as well as yours.'

‘Maybe, but that bitch of a woman was Charlotte's mother, however much we all wish she wasn't. Anyway, if anyone can win your granny round, it's you, my wee charmer, and I hope you succeed. I like your Uncle Josh. He's genuine and sincere and I know how rare that is.' There was a familiar trace of bitterness in Billy's tone. Libby stepped close again and gave him an extra hug and another goodbye kiss.

All day she had felt buoyed up with happiness, sure she would be able to persuade her grandmother to meet Charlotte on Easter Sunday. When she parked her little car outside Granny Pringle's cottage and saw her peering out of the window with a frown on her brow all her doubts returned and her heart sank. She wanted her first big family gathering to be complete and a happy affair.

Chapter Five

Polly Pringle had aged since her husband's death but she was pulling open the cottage door before Libby was out of the car. She looked anxious until she saw Libby's radiant face.

‘Well bairn, you're looking well and there's no need to ask if you and Billy are all right.' She gave Libby a warm hug and drew her indoors. ‘Oh Granny, we're so happy.'

‘Mmm, I can see that. Blooming, ye are. When I recognised your car I thought you might have come to have a wee grumble about your mother's news …' It was almost a question.

‘Mother's …? Oh you mean the baby. I suppose I have come about that in a roundabout sort of way but so long as Mum and Dad are happy, I'm happy too. But I do want to ask you a big favour, Granny. I need your help.'

‘My help? Whatever for, lassie?'

‘Mum's looking tired whenever I see her, and you know she has Cousin Peter staying over the school holidays?'

‘Aye, I do. He was down here this morning with Fraser. They could be brothers to look at them. They're going to put the garden in for me. I was worrying about it. It's far too big now Joe's gone, so it's a relief to have them do it, even if they don't make as good a job as your grandpa would have done. So? What's the favour, lassie?'

‘I offered to make a dinner for all the family on Easter Sunday, to save Mum. I have to be at work tomorrow morning though and I wondered if you would make one of your big trifles?'

‘I'm sure ye dinna need me to make a trifle. You've been learning to cook ever since Lachie was born; ten years now.'

‘I know, but there'll be such a lot to do and Aunt Mary and Uncle Willie are coming too and Mimi of course. I … er …'

‘Och, come on lassie. Spit it out. It isna like you to beat about the bush, Libby, and I ken fine what ye're wanting, and the trifle is naething but an excuse.'

‘Wh-what do you mean, Granny?' Libby's cheeks coloured. Polly's eyes had a wicked twinkle.

‘All this is about getting me to Home Farm to meet that lassie, isn't it?'

‘I-I don't know what you mean … I do want you to make one of your special trifles.'

‘You havena mentioned that Charlotte Crainby will be at Home Farm,' Polly said drily. ‘But ye needna worry, lassie, I'll be there.'

‘You will? Oh Granny, thank you.' Libby threw her arms around the old lady.

‘Och, there's no need to throttle me, lassie,' she grumbled, but her blue eyes were beaming at Libby. ‘You were all ganging up on me so I had to give in and I suppose the lassie could never be as bad as her mother; no woman on earth could be that bad.'

‘I think you'll like Charlotte when you get to know her,' Libby said.

‘Aye, so Josh has been telling me.' She met Libby's startled eyes and nodded. ‘'Tis so. I don't think he realises he's smitten wi' the lassie yet, and her eleven years younger than him, and one o' his students. He's just like his father though, when he's made his mind up. The last time he was down from Glasgow he told me he would be bringing Charlotte to stay with you at Easter and he expected me to meet her and be civil.'

‘Uncle Josh said that?'

‘Indeed he did. Very firm he was about it too.' She began to laugh. ‘Neither o' ye need have worried though. I'd made my mind up to take your grandpa's advice. He had a wee talk with the lassie at your wedding. One o' the last things he said to me before we went to sleep that night was that she seemed a pleasant lassie and he wouldna mind if Josh got a wife like that. He said he didna want to see him staying a bachelor all his days, or missing his chance o' happiness on our account. Joe was aye a good judge o' character. Mind you,' she wagged a finger at Libby, ‘Don't you go telling Josh I've told ye that.' Her eyes sparkled, reminding Libby of Mimi and she wondered what her grandmother had been like when she was a girl. ‘It willna do him any harm to be a bit nervous and sweat a wee bit.'

‘Oh Granny, you're as bad a tease as Lachlan under that sober expression you put on.'

‘Aye we-el, I need to keep you all in order sometimes. And don't worry about the trifle, lassie. I have a tin o' fruit and a jelly. I'll soon whip up a sponge and I'll make it in my big cut glass bowl. Perhaps you'll get the cream though? We'll put it on the top when I get it to your house. What else are ye making?'

‘I've got a big roast of beef and I'll make Yorkshire puddings if I can get the oven hot enough. Charlotte will prepare the vegetables. She's not very good at cooking yet. She's never had a chance to try but she's a great help with preparing. She's bought
The
Glasgow Cookery Book
to learn the basics. When you get to know her you'll be able to give her lots of tips.'

‘We'll see about that,' Polly said cautiously. ‘I'll bring some horseradish sauce.'

Libby sang all the way home. It had been so much easier than she had expected and she was glad Uncle Josh had been firm about Charlotte. It showed he cared, even if he didn't love her.

In spite of her show of philosophical acceptance in front of Libby, Polly had grave doubts about meeting Charlotte Crainby. It was hard to think the girl was becoming accepted in the family when her mother had been such a vile woman.

Charlotte's stomach was a knot of nerves at the prospect of meeting Josh's mother. She knew how spiteful and nasty her mother had been to the Pringle family and she didn't blame the old woman for harbouring resentment.

Libby had left Charlotte to pour the batter into the roasting tins to make the Yorkshire puddings while she whipped cream and checked the dining table and the rest of the food. Neither of them heard Josh's little car arrive. The fat was so hot when Charlotte drew the first tin from the Aga that it was turning the air blue.

‘Libby!' she wailed, ‘Come back! I think I've burned the tin. What shall I do?'

‘There, there, lassie, ye havena burned anything,' Polly soothed, coming into the kitchen. She set a huge trifle on the table, peeling off her coat without a pause. ‘Get the batter in as fast as ye can and put the tin back into the oven before it cools.'

‘Oh!' Charlotte gasped in shock at the sight of Josh's mother, still in her hat, reaching for a large apron hanging behind the kitchen door.

‘That's the style. Ye're doing fine. Bring out the other tin while ye're at it and set it on the hot plate. The secret of a good Yorkshire pudding is to have the fat hot and get it back into a hot oven as fast as ye can.'

Between them they got the two meat tins back into the Aga before the oven began to cool.

‘Th-thank you,' Charlotte stammered.

‘That's all right, lassie. We all have to learn and Libby is lucky to have such a fine cooker. I always have a job stoking up my fire to get the oven hot enough for Yorkshire puddings. Josh loves them.'

‘Oh!' Libby halted in the door way. ‘You've met.'

‘Aye, so we have.'

‘Aren't you going to take your hat off, Granny?' Libby began to smile, ‘And what are you doing putting on a pinafore? You're not supposed to be working.'

‘Mrs Pringle helped me get the batter into the meat tins for the Yorkshire puds,' Charlotte said. ‘I-I thought they were going to burn.'

‘Oh, I see.' Libby's bright brown eyes moved from one to the other. She sighed. ‘Well if you both want to help me make the dinner that's fine. Mum can sit in the room and rest. I've whipped up the cream, Granny. Will you put it on top of the trifle? Perhaps you'd slice the carrots for me please, Charlotte?'

‘She's a right sergeant major, dishing out orders, isn't she?' Polly said. Charlotte chewed her lip and looked at Josh's mother, already spooning cream onto the trifle. Polly winked and gave her a crooked smile which was so like Josh's that Charlotte wanted to hug her. She was not the frightening woman she had expected. She was small and cuddly and lovely with her sparkling blue eyes and round cheeks.

Charlotte was not the only one who had been nervous about the family gathering. Peter was used to the stiff formality of the dinner parties which his parents had held for colleagues of his stepfather. He was dreading a large gathering and long drawn out conversations excluding anyone under thirty. He soon discovered he had nothing to worry about. Billy welcomed him and showed him round the ground floor rooms, including his grandfather's library, of which he was justifiably proud.

‘It's a beautiful house,' Peter said. ‘The rooms are so spacious and every one has a beautiful view – to the front flower borders or to the hills, or down to the farm.'

‘According to Mother, Langmune house looked like this before the fire, except it didn't have a library or a conservatory. My father had those built on when Grandfather moved in here.' Peter was looking round the shelves of books which covered three walls from floor to ceiling.

‘You have a fine collection,' he said in genuine admiration.

‘You're welcome to borrow them, any time you like. Libby and her mother are avid readers. I read about farming and nature and local history, but I haven't had much time since I took over the farm.'

‘I love reading,' Peter said, ‘but I'm discovering what a lot I have to learn about farming and country life. If you can recommend any books to teach me some of the basics I'd be grateful.'

‘I can give you a couple right now on general agriculture.' Billy reached for his own copy of
Elements of Agriculture
and his Watson and Moore. ‘Things are changing fast since the war though, so you need to keep an open mind. After we've had dinner I'll show you round Home Farm if you like. Fraser wants to see the bulk milk tank. That is one change I think will come in the next few years.' Peter didn't like to admit he hadn't a clue what Billy was talking about, but he nodded. ‘I'd love to see the farm, but I don't think I shall ever get used to the size of the cows. Fraser thinks I should go to High Bowie and learn about sheep from his Uncle Willie.'

‘He's a grand fellow. You'll like him,' Billy said. ‘He listens but he only offers advice when asked.'

‘Mmm. Not like my stepfather then,' Peter grimaced. ‘He doesn't advise, he commands.'

‘Libby has some useful books on bacteriology which should impress him,' Billy grinned. ‘I take it he's still determined to make you into a doctor?'

‘He is sure I shall hate being in the country with all the animal smells. He has no idea I have spent a lot of my spare time at the zoo for the last couple of years.'

‘You go to the zoo?'

‘Yes, most Saturdays and during the holidays when I can sneak away. I saved up to buy a decent bicycle. I know most of the keepers now and they let me help them. Sometimes it's chopping up fruit and vegetables for their feed, sometimes its helping clean out the lions and tigers, but they're always shut away for safety while we work. If the vet comes to attend any of the animals he always takes me round with him if I'm there. He knew my mother when they were young.'

‘I see.' Billy mused. ‘So you are serious about wanting to live and work in the country then? It's not just a whim as your stepfather believes.'

‘No, it's not a whim, but I know my stepfather will make things difficult if he can,' Peter said. ‘He'll not give me his blessing to do what I want with my life.'

‘We'll all help if we can,' Billy said, ‘and I know Libby's parents will support you if you can convince them farming is what you want, but it will cost money for you to go to college or university.'

‘That's all right,' Peter assured him. ‘My own father was insured. Mother put the money in the bank for me, thinking I would need it to study medicine. Before she died she said I should use it for my education, whatever I decided to do.'

‘In that case you need to concentrate on the practical experience first,' Billy advised.

‘Come along you two,' Libby called. ‘Dinner is ready.'

It was a happy meal. Sitting next to Josh, Charlotte felt she had never been happier in her life. Mrs Pringle seemed to treat her with the same mixture of asperity and humour as she treated her grandchildren. Mimi, sitting on her other side, chatted nonstop except when she was eating. She did not allow her weakened hand to hold her back, any more than her limp prevented her from following the men out to the farmyard when the meal was over. Charlotte was happy to help Libby clear away, leaving Maggie, Victoria, and Polly to relax.

‘I shall never be able to make a meal like that for so many people,' she said as she joined Libby in the kitchen with a pile of dirty plates. ‘Everything was delicious.'

‘What will you do when you finish at college?' Libby asked.

‘I must get my parchment. I've applied to teach in a large school in Glasgow. Josh thinks I shall find it hard to cope with a class of boisterous children but I think it will be a challenge. Besides, I want to help them and I would hate to be in a school where the children had snooty parents who want to interfere every time their child needs to be chastised.'

‘Mmm, I can see there must be disadvantages to both kinds. You will still see Uncle Josh then if you stay in Glasgow?'

‘I shall keep the same flat.' Charlotte flushed. ‘I shall not see your uncle at the college, though, but he has promised to help if I run into any difficulties.'

‘He will too, knowing Uncle Josh, but I'll bet he'll be round at your door at the end of your very first day, to see how you've got on.' Charlotte's cheeks grew even pinker. Had Libby guessed how she felt about Josh?

During the following week Peter spent most of his time at High Bowie watching Willie with his ewes and lambs and helping Mary feed the three pet ones. Lachlan usually accompanied him and he and Mimi tagged along behind except when Willie took him to the heather-clad moor at the highest part of the farm. He loved the views. He felt he could spend the whole day in the peace and beauty. Mimi found the steep, rough ground too difficult, though she never grumbled and Peter's heart warmed to the bright-eyed, cheery little girl. He thought of his half-sister, Dinah, and her trivial complaints, but Mimi and Cathy might get along well together.

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