The Shadow of the Sycamores (40 page)

So it was a case of going to Ardbirtle and writing to Mrs Miller because there wasn’t time to go back to The Sycamores. He had spent the journey trying to plan what he would say to his mother. He felt thoroughly ashamed that he hadn’t been home for so long, well over a year, and there was so much to tell her. It would be easier since his father would be at work but it was still going to be difficult.

It was much more difficult than he had foreseen. In fact, it was downright impossible. As soon as he went in, his mother exclaimed, ‘Goodness, Jerry! Who told you?’

Completely taken aback, he stuttered, ‘Who … who … told me … what?’

‘You don’t know? I was just getting ready to go and see if there’s anything else I could do.’

‘Anything else?’ Feeling stupid, he realised that his mouth was hanging open and hastily pressed his lips together.

‘I’m sorry, Jerry, but I’m still all upset. You see, your grandfather passed away yesterday. It was your father who found him, thank goodness, but I’m really sorry he died there on his own … and I wish I’d been there for him but I’d to come home to give your father his supper and he was all right when I left him, so he must have died between half past five and half past six. I only had to boil the tatties and heat up the soup and …’

The rapid flow of words stopping until she drew breath, Jerry butted in. ‘I’m sorry to hear about Granda, Mother, but he was an old man in poor health and it wasn’t your fault he died.’

‘That’s what your father says but it doesn’t help. I still feel guilty and now your aunts have pushed me out. Kitty and Abby have taken charge … and Bella and Jeannie arrived with the first train this morning though they hadn’t been near their father for years and years and years and I’m shut out when it was me that attended to him every day. It doesn’t seem right, Jerry.’

‘Things often happen that don’t seem right,’ he muttered. He knew that only too well but this certainly wasn’t the time to tell her his troubles. ‘Let them get on with it – you’ve nothing to reproach yourself with. Just sit down and I’ll make some tea.’

So strung up that she couldn’t help herself, Fay chattered on until he handed her a steaming cup and he had just sat down himself when Henry walked in, his grim face lightening when he saw his son. ‘Who told you?’

‘I’ve been through all that,’ Jerry said with a slight smile.

‘He didn’t know until I told him,’ Fay sighed. ‘I was nearly ready to go to Oak Cottage when he came in and what a sorry welcome I gave him. What’s wrong that
you’re
back so soon?’

‘I couldn’t stand the bickering. Bella and Jeannie were trying to lay down the law because they’re oldest but Kitty and Abby were giving them what for for neglecting him. I couldn’t stand it any longer and Pogie came away with me.’ Henry turned now to his son. ‘Are you home for a while, lad, or is this just a flying visit?’

Although desperate to unburden himself, Jerry held his tongue, as much in respect for his grandfather as for the effect his tale would have on his parents. ‘Just a flying visit, I’m afraid.’

‘You’ll be here for the funeral, though.’ Fay was taking this for granted.

It took Jerry a split second to make up his mind – it was now or never. ‘No, Mother, I won’t be here.’ He held up his hand to stop her speaking. ‘I just came to tell you something and I wish to God I could have chosen a better time. I was at Huntly earlier on, enlisting in the Gordons …’

‘No!’ Fay burst out. ‘No, Jerry, you can’t. You’re not old enough. You’re …’

‘I said I was eighteen.’

‘But …’ Fay began but Henry shushed her. ‘Has something happened at The Sycamores? I thought you were settled there and you can’t walk out the minute something doesn’t go right for you. You’re nearly a man now, Jerry, and you’ve got to put up with things, face up to trouble.’

Jerry lowered his eyes. This was an ideal opportunity for him to open his heart to them, to let them soothe away this ever-gnawing agony, but how could he add to the deep pain already etched on their faces? One piece of bad news was more than enough. ‘I’ve been very happy in my work,’ he said softly, looking at his father, ‘but one man after another was going off to war and I want to fight for my country as well.’

The eruption he feared did not come. His mother gave a little sniff and his father laid his hand over hers. ‘No, my Fairy, he’s right. It is every man’s duty to do his bit.’

‘But he’s so young,’ she wailed.

‘He’s a strong lad, a brave lad, he’ll make a fine soldier. I’m proud of him.’

Jerry was ashamed because his mother’s eyes had filled with tears and also because of the ball of emotion that had risen to constrict his throat. Did it prove that he was still a bairn after all?

‘When do you have to report?’ Henry asked.

‘Tomorrow,’ the boy succeeded in saying. ‘I’d have liked to go back to say goodbye to them all at The Sycamores but there wasn’t time.’

Fortunately for all their sakes, the emotional spell was broken by Mara making an appearance. ‘You said you’d both be at Granda’s,’ she accused, then her tone changed when she saw her brother. ‘Jerry, who told you?’

The question made the other three give crooked smiles in spite of their heavy hearts.

‘Cheer up, my Fairy Fay,’ Henry said when they went to bed. ‘He’ll be all right. He may be quiet but there’s strength there and independence.’

‘I can’t help thinking, though. If anything happens to him, we’ll have lost both our sons and I know I couldn’t bear it.’

He gathered her in his arms, the same slim body he knew so well. She hadn’t changed at all except for the few grey hairs starting to appear. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to him, my darling. Try to get some sleep. It’s been a gruelling day, what
with one thing and another, and we’ve still the funeral to get through.’

There was silence for a minute, then she murmured, ‘I wish Mara could hear from Leo. If we could only get one bit of good news, I’d feel a lot better.’

On leave after his initial training, Jerry Rae still could not pluck up the courage to tell his parents about his wife and son. In any case, the past few weeks had been so hectic that he had tumbled into bed every night exhausted – no lying awake thinking, nothing except sweet oblivion. So he didn’t need his mother’s comfort to ease the pain. The pain had already eased a fraction … except when he dwelt on it, but enough to let him know that enlisting was the best thing he could have done.

Of course, his father wanted to know all the details of the route marches, the drills, the weaponry they were using and he could speak about that – he was glad to speak about that. He could sense his mother studying him at these times, clearly wondering why he told her nothing of the things she wanted to know.

‘Have you made any friends?’ she had asked on his first day home.

‘No.’ How could he? They had no time to socialise.

‘Have you met any nice girls?’

‘No.’ What did she think they’d been doing? Having a holiday?

‘Was the food good?’

‘Not too bad.’ They were so hungry after all the exercise they had taken that they would have eaten anything – one of the horses if it had been cooked and put in front of them.

And so the catechism went on, until he felt like shouting at her to shut up, but he couldn’t. She was only trying, like any other mother, to find out what he had been doing and how he had been treated. What on earth would she say if she saw how many of them were packed into each tent? How the ablutions
were hardly worth the name? The latrines just dug out trenches? And all this was here in Scotland, a country claiming to be civilised. What would the conditions be when they went to France, to the battlefields? Not long now. He didn’t care if he was killed – he was quite hoping he would be – but he couldn’t tell her that either.

It was the night before he was due to leave before he said, into a silence that had fallen, ‘I should have told you this before but I … didn’t want you to worry. We’re being sent down south when we go back and then it’s across the Channel.’

‘Oh, no!’ Fay exclaimed, her face blanching. ‘Not already, Jerry? You’re still not eighteen and … oh, no!’

‘He has to go where they send him.’ Henry swallowed, obviously not as calm as he would like to appear.

‘They’re screaming out for reinforcements,’ Jerry pointed out. ‘I don’t know exactly when we’re being shipped, we’re never told any details, but the rumour is we go as soon as we’ve all had our leave.’

Mara had said nothing and he knew she was thinking of her lad but he didn’t like to mention it.

They were all up early the next morning, having breakfast when the postman knocked. Nearest the door, Jerry said, ‘I’ll go,’ and after exchanging a few words with the man, he came in and handed a letter to his sister. ‘It’s addressed to you.’

Colour flooded into her cheeks, hope shone from her eyes but one glance at the envelope made her shake her head and say, her voice dull, ‘It’s not Leo’s writing.’

‘At least it’s an ordinary envelope,’ her father consoled, ‘not …’

‘Would you like me to open it?’ Fay suggested.

‘No, thank you.’ The girl ran her thumb under the flap and pulled out the contents. ‘It’s from Edinburgh.’

Her parents looked at each other, knowing that she was afraid Leo’s father had written with bad news, and Fay repeated, ‘Do you want me to read it?’ But Mara had already looked at the signature so she added, ‘Is it from Leo’s father?’

‘Yes.’ There was silence for a few moments, all watching as
her eyes travelled quickly down the page, then she looked up. ‘He’s alive. He’s been there for over two months but he doesn’t want to see me.’

Correctly guessing the reason for this, Fay said softly, ‘How badly has he been wounded, dear?’

Mara herself looked as if she had been wounded, her eyes round and glittering with unshed tears. ‘Very badly, his father says.’ She turned the page to read on and then exclaimed, ‘He’s been blinded, Mother, and he can’t bear anyone seeing him. But I must see him. I don’t care if he
is
blind. I don’t care how badly he’s been wounded, I’ll still love him.’

She dashed up to her bedroom and they could hear her opening and closing drawers. ‘She’s not going down there now, is she?’ Henry asked. ‘Shouldn’t she write to his father first?’

Fay shrugged helplessly. ‘She had almost given up on him, I know that, and to learn that he’s still alive but doesn’t want to see her … well, I would do the same if I were in her shoes.’

Henry pulled a face at his son as if to say, ‘Women!’

Brother and sister walked together to the station, Jerry to take the train north to Huntly, Mara going south to Edinburgh. She looked much better after making her decision and Jerry said, ‘I’m pleased your lad’s alive.’ He almost added, ‘and well’ but Leo Ferguson was far from well, apparently.

She smiled happily. ‘It’s not the best of news but, if he still wants me, I’ll marry him whatever his other injuries are.’

He felt obliged to issue a warning. ‘Don’t build up your hopes, Mara. His father said he didn’t want to see you and I’ve heard of some men going home completely changed after being maimed in some way.’

‘I don’t care. I’ll nurse him back to health.’

Jerry’s train came first and he kissed her cheek awkwardly. ‘I hope everything goes well for you, Mara. I’ll be thinking of you.’

Tears sprung to her eyes again. ‘Thanks, Jerry, and I’ll be thinking of you. Look after yourself.’

As he jumped up the steps, he wished that he had told her
about Anna and the baby. It would let her know that she wasn’t alone in her suffering. But at least she would see her fiancé again, though it was doubtful if he’d be pleased about it.

Never having been far from Ardbirtle, Mara had no idea where to go when she arrived in Waverley Station and, when she asked the guard how to get to Cramond – where James Ferguson had bought a new house – he said she should have come off at the Haymarket. She almost dissolved into tears with frustration but a nearby porter, noticing how upset she was, said brightly, ‘Ach, lassie, you’ll get a bus up on Princes Street that’ll take you right there.

The helpful bus conductress told her when to get off but her nerve almost failed her as she came to the house. It was not as big and imposing as she had thought, however – just a solid, squarish villa, looking out across the wide estuary of a river, the Forth, she guessed. She had come all this way so she did not intend turning back now. Opening the gate, she walked up the path at the right side of the lovely, well-kept garden. It was a pullout bell and even one gentle pull was enough to make a loud clang reverberate inside somewhere.

A dainty little maid opened the door and looked at her curiously when she said, ‘I’ve come to see Leo Ferguson, please.’

‘Nobody gets to see Mr Leo,’ the girl said curtly and made to close the door.

Mara stuck her foot out. She would have liked to say, ‘I’m his fiancée.’ But perhaps his parents didn’t know they were engaged so she said, as confidently as she could, ‘I’m sure he’ll see me.’

‘He can’t see nobody – he’s blind!’ the maid said ungrammatically and with a hint of triumph.

‘Yes, I do know he’s been blinded,’ Mara said patiently. ‘His father wrote and told me. Perhaps you could take me to see
him
, then?’

The retired surgeon was much more welcoming than the young servant but not so his wife. ‘Leo does not wish anyone to see him,’ she declared slowly and deliberately as if Mara
were retarded. But Mara held her ground, sensing that the elderly man was on her side and, at last, with a ‘Hrrmph!’ he turned to the maid.

‘Take Miss Rae to Leo’s room, Daisy, then make a room ready for her.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The maid bobbed and went out, muttering, ‘This way,’ to Mara but her straight back expressed exactly what she was feeling. Just a little way along the corridor, she gave a light tap on a door and, when a tetchy voice said, ‘Who is it?’ she opened it timidly, as if expecting a telling off for looking in. ‘A Miss Rae to see you, Mr Leo.’

Mara let the girl pass her on the way out then walked in herself, having to hold back from running to take him in her arms. He was looking towards her but with unseeing eyes in a face that bore no resemblance to the man she loved. But he was still Leo and had obviously gone through some horrific ordeal … and she still loved him. Going forward uncertainly, she murmured, ‘Hello, Leo, darling.’