The Nickum (18 page)

A little farther along, standing in front of the Cowdray Hall with its granite lion in the corner, a memorial to those killed in the Great War, he struggled with his problem. He was being kept back by the fact that two honourable gentlemen had been willing to support him in getting the best of education, which would enable him eventually to choose whatever career he fancied, but was that enough to tie him to them for years? Wouldn’t they be just as proud of him if he went to save the entire country from annihilation by the Germans? Should he wait until he next went home and ask his parents’ permission? What if they said no? How would he feel then about doing nothing to atone for Poopie’s death? He would never forgive himself, that’s what. His mind finally made up, he turned into Blackfriars Street and on into the Recruitment Centre.

More than half an hour later, he emerged from the rather dingy hall, where a burly sergeant had asked him several direct questions that he was able to answer to the man’s satisfaction. Then he’d had an embarrassing medical examination, and had passed that also. Whatever happened now, he had signed on as a Gordon Highlander, and no one could alter that. He marched out as though he were already wearing the kilt, back to Marischal College to inform the office of his decision.

It was easier than he had expected. The secretary smiled wearily. ‘You’re the third one this week, and I’m beginning to think I’ll do likewise. The trouble is, I haven’t the nerve to tell my lady friend.’

His lady friend. Willie had completely forgotten
his
lady friend. What on earth would Millie say? Rather than face her in the quad, he made for her Auntie Sophie’s house in the Spital, hoping that he wouldn’t meet her on the way. He had a quick glance at the watch she had given him as a Christmas gift. Five to eleven. It was safe enough. She’d be in the lecture hall by this time.

Sophie Campbell was astonished to see him back so early. ‘Are you not feeling well?’ she asked solicitously.

He attempted a smile. ‘I’m feeling better than earlier on. I’ve just enlisted in the Gordons.’

‘You’ve done what?’ she gasped. ‘Does Millie know?’

‘Not yet.’ He told her what had happened to make him take the momentous step.

She listened with interest, then asked, quietly, ‘You and this Poopie? You were very good friends?’

‘Yes, very good. I was the strong one; he was always the weak one, and I’ve let him down. I wasn’t there for him.’ At last his grief for his boyhood chum overwhelmed him and he sank on to a chair, put his arms on the table and burst into a paroxysm of tears.

‘Oh, laddie,’ Sophie consoled, ‘don’t take it so badly.

The two of you had drifted apart and you couldn’t have protected him from harm all his life.’

He tried to pull himself together. ‘I know, I know, but I can’t help feeling I was still responsible for him … and now … and now …’ The tears came again, but with less force. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. Just give me a minute. I’ll get over it.’

‘Will you be all right if I go out? I’ve nothing in for your lunch.’

‘I’ll be fine, but don’t worry about me. I think I’d best go home.’

‘I’ll have to get something for Millie and me for tea anyway. Are you sure you won’t wait and tell her what you’ve done?’

‘I can’t face her yet.’

‘I can understand that. Lock the door if you go off before I come back. You’ve still got the key I gave you?’

‘Yes, and I’ll put it through the letter box. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me.’ It came to him then that this was another person who had helped him financially. ‘I just wish I could pay you for my board and lodgings.’

‘Don’t be soft. If I can’t spend my money the way I want, what’s the world coming to?’

It was some time after she left before he washed his face and packed his belongings. There was a train at five past two, and he would just have time to catch it.

The fifteen-mile journey took quite a time because of the number of stops on the way, but at last it steamed into Udny Station, the nearest he could get by rail to the Burnton area. Lugging his cardboard suitcase, seemingly heavier now than when he had gone to Aberdeen first, he set off to cover the three-and-a-half-mile gap, but fortune smiled on him. Just as he was beginning to think that he couldn’t walk much farther without a rest, a tractor drew up alongside him. ‘Can I gi’e you a lift, Willie?’

The young man had hardly enough breath to answer Johnny McIntyre, who jumped down, hoisted the case on to the back of the tractor then jumped up again and held out his hand to help Willie. ‘I was sorry to hear aboot Poopie Grant,’ the farmer said then, kicking the feet from under his passenger’s hold on his emotions. ‘Losh, Willie, I didna mean to upset you.’

After a few seconds and having bottled his grief once more, Willie said, ‘I wasn’t there for him. I wasn’t there for him.’ He looked round into the other man’s face. ‘I wish I’d joined up with him, but I enlisted in the Gordons this forenoon.’

‘Well, it’ll not help Poopie, but it’ll salve your conscience. I suppose it’s the best thing you could have done. Dinna blame yoursel’, lad. It would’ve happened whatever.’

‘You’re a believer in Fate, then?’

‘I am that. Oor lives are drafted oot for us afore we’re ever born.’

‘Maybe that’s true, but I feel better for having done something positive. As you say, it won’t help Poopie, but it might help the war effort. Not that I think I’ll make any great difference,’ he hastened to add, ‘but at least I’ll feel that I’m being of some use.’

‘Aye, you’re right, Willie. If every young man felt like that, we could wipe the Jerries aff the face o’ the earth the morra.’

Willie was a little surprised to find himself smiling as he walked up the track. He had thought he would never smile again. But there were still his parents to face, and they wouldn’t adopt McIntyre’s realistic outlook.

He walked into the house without knocking, as he had always been in the habit of doing – it was his home, after all – and was amazed by his mother’s reaction. Her face had blanched, her hand hand lifted to he chest, her mouth had fallen open.

‘Willie! What’s wrong?’ she managed to gasp.

‘I’m sorry, Mam, I didn’t mean to … I never thought …’

‘You never think, that’s the trouble with you,’ she murmured. ‘Why are you here? Has something happened?’

He felt his throat closing again. She wouldn’t understand, but he would have to tell her. ‘I’ve volunteered for the Gordons.’

‘You’ve what? Have you gone out of your mind? What about University?’

‘This is more important, Mam. I need to go. Surely you can understand?’

‘Has this anything to do with Cecil Grant? I suppose you know about him?’

‘Yes, I know. That’s why I did it. I always looked after him, remember, fought his battles for him, protected him …’

She ended the sentence for him. ‘So you feel responsible for his death?’

‘Exactly. I’m glad you see it my way.’

‘No, I don’t see it your way, but I guessed that’s what your twisted mind would think.’

‘It’s not twisted, Mam. If I’d been there, I’d have looked after him. I’d have made sure nothing happened to him.’ He could feel the tears gathering again. ‘I’d better go and tell Dad, though he likely won’t be pleased, either.’

Getting no answer, he stood up and went out, not knowing exactly where to find his father, but letting his eyes scour around hopefully. He had no luck until he saw him hammering in a gatepost at the far side of the ley field.

‘Good God, Willie!’ Jake exclaimed. ‘What are you daein’ hame the day?’

‘You’ll likely have a fit when I tell you, Dad.’

‘Weel, come on then. Best get it ower wi’. Have you been expelled, or whatever they cry it? Sent doon? For daein’ something you shouldna dae?’

‘No, it’s nothing like that. I …’ He hesitated apprehensively.

‘Oot wi’ it, lad. I havena a’ day to waste.’

As if taking a running jump at it, Willie drew in a deep beath and blurted out, ‘I joined the Gordons this morning.’

‘You what? Are you mad? You canna gi’e up your chances like that!’

‘I don’t care about my chances. This is more important to me.’

‘Mair important? But it’s nae jist yoursel’ you’ve to think on, it’s the two men that made your education possible. Were you nae thinking on them?’

‘They’ll understand. At least, I hope they will, but even if they don’t, I still have to go.’

‘Still have to? So somebody’s makin’ you go? Some lassie, mebbe?’

‘A laddie, Dad.’

‘Ah! I think I see noo. Poopie Grant? You want to get revenge for him? No, wait a minute. I’ve got it. You think you should have been wi’ him?’

‘Aye, Dad. That’s it.’

For a moment, Jake screwed up his face, trying to come to terms with this; whether to reprimand his son for being rash, or to be proud of him for wanting to fight for his country. An old soldier himself, he opted for the latter. ‘Aye, weel, you’re a brave loon, but I wouldna like to be you explaining to the dominie and the minister. They’ll nae be pleased.’

‘I’d better go and get it over with.’

‘Aye. Eh, does your Mam ken yet?

‘I told her first. She’s not happy about it.’

‘No, I’m damned sure she’s nae. Off you go, then, an’ I’d best gan in an’ try to soften her a bit.’

Judging that the dominie would be home from school by now, Willie went straight to the schoolhouse and pulled the bell determinedly. ‘I want to speak to Mr Meldrum,’ he told Janet. ‘It’s important.’

The little maid seemed worried. ‘Is it something aboot Miss Millie?’

‘No, it’s not. Why did you think that?’

‘There’s been raised voices in the parlour since the master came home, so I thocht Miss Millie was ill or …’

‘Nothing’s wrong with Miss Millie. Now, will you show me in?’

She knocked timorously on the door before announcing, ‘Willie Fowlie wants to see you, sir.’

‘And I certainly want to see him.’

Janet held the door open and Willie, realising that the man already knew, walked in on legs trembling with apprehension of what was to come. ‘I take it you’ve heard, sir?’

‘You take it correctly, William. What tomfoolery are you up to now?’

‘It’s not tomfoolery. I’ve volunteered.’

‘For the Gordons. Yes, I know that, too. First, my sister telephoned me with the news, and some time later, my daughter called – in a state of great disress, I may add. What on earth were you thinking of?’

‘I’ll try to explain.’ Willie gave his explanation, plainly and simply, stressing the part he had played in Poopie’s earlier life.

‘So you feel it your bounden duty to atone for the years you ignored him?’

Mistakenly believing that the man’s searching gaze meant sarcasm, Willie went on the defensive. ‘I didn’t ignore him, Mr Meldrum, but circumstances were such that we didn’t come in contact so much. If I hadn’t gone to the Academy and on to University, we’d have seen each other every day.’

‘So, you put the blame on me?’

In his precarious emotional state, the youth failed to see the twinkle in his benefactor’s eyes. ‘Oh, no, I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry. It was something I’d never thought possible, and I’m very grateful for the chance you gave me.’ He broke off, searching for words to express himself.

It was Mrs Meldrum who took over. ‘Stop teasing him, Herbert. Surely you can see how badly his friend’s death has affected him, I can quite understand how he feels.’ She turned to the young man. ‘In fact, William, I admire you for what you did this morning. Not many people would give up everything they hold dear because of their boyhood principles.’

‘Yes, indeed, Margaret. I am sorry, William. It was unforgivable of me to make light of things. I do understand how deeply you feel, and, although I must admit to a degree of disappointment that you are forsaking education for what you consider your duty, I do, however, wish you well.’

‘Thank you, Mr Meldrum, and you, too, Mrs Meldrum,’ Willie croaked, trying to hold back the tears that were on the brink of overflowing. ‘I feel awful about you wasting your money on me, and I promise to repay you after the war.’ He stood up to leave.

Reaching over with his hand held out, the man said earnestly, ‘Look, my boy. I want nothing paid back. What you have learned so far will not be wasted. It will remain in your mind for ever. It will give you a different perspective on things. It has shaped your life for the better.’

Having made the expected gesture, Willie turned to the man’s wife. ‘I must thank you, too, Mrs Meldrum, for seeing things my way.’

She gave a small laugh. ‘My pleasure. No, Herbert, don’t get up, I’ll see William out.’

At the outside door, she said, seriously, ‘I’d like to ask you something, if you don’t mind, William.’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘I want to know how you feel about Millie. She was really upset when I spoke to her on the phone earlier. She loves you, you know.’

‘I know, Mrs Meldrum, and I love her, but I would never be happy again if I didn’t do what I feel is right. Please tell her I’m sorry for hurting her and we can get together again after the war – if she still wants to.’

‘Dear boy, you can tell her yourself. She was going to be taking the bus from Aberdeen at five to six, if you want to come back?’

This was something he had wanted to avoid. He didn’t think he could bear actually having to say goodbye to her. He loved her so much that the thought of leaving her was tearing at his innards, and he couldn’t back out of his commitment to the Gordon Highlanders now. If he didn’t make the effort to see her, though, Millie would think he didn’t love her at all, which would hurt her even more. ‘I’ll meet her off the bus, though I don’t think it’s a good idea. It’ll be torture for both of us.’

The woman patted his shoulder. ‘Please don’t worry about it. Millie will find comfort in the fact that you do love her, even if you have to leave her. Now, what are you going to do until it’s time? You can come back inside and wait?’

‘No, I’ll go and tell the minister what I’ve done. I’d better get that over.’

‘Good luck, then, William.’ She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

It wasn’t far to the manse, and it was quite near where Millie would come off the bus, so he didn’t hurry. He wanted to be in complete control of himself for this meeting, and while he walked, his mind returned to Mrs Meldrum. He had never really spoken much to her before, and he couldn’t get over how like Millie she was. Or should it be the other way round? She was not quite as slim as her daughter, but not at all plump. Her hair was perhaps a little darker and not so wavy, her eyes were the same deep blue.