A Rope--In Case (19 page)

‘ “Tsere might be,” I told him. “If you have a gun”. I didn't want tsem to see tse one I have under tse seat,' he added with an engaging smile.

‘ “I have a gun”, says tse copper an' he pulls out tsis tsing from under his coat. I near laughed out loud when I saw it. It was from some war, or sometsin', he said.

‘ “What sort of ammo would a gun like tsat take?” I asked him. “I've never seen tse like of it before.'

‘ “Tsese is tse ammo”, he says an' puts his hand in his trouser pocket to get it out. Tsen I see his face go all queer.

“Amn't I tse fool?” says he. “I've lost tse bloody ammo”. He felt in all his pockets wissout findin' it. Tsen tse osser copper says to him, “I know what's happened to your ammo”.

‘ “What?” he asks.

‘ “You mind tsis mornin' we had to go an' look for yon woman tsat had gone boatin' an' not turned up again? We tsought she'd been drowned an' tse boat might have been washed ashore in tsem rocks an' we had to wade out to tsem?”

‘ “Aye,” says tse osser pollis.

‘ “Well, you mind you went home an' changed your trousers afterwards”, tse one reminded him. “Tsat's where your ammo will be”.

‘ “Oh God!” he says. “Tsat will be tse way of it.” '

‘An' what happened to the woman?' asked Morag. ‘Did they find her?'

‘Aye, tsey found her later on. She'd lost her oars an' tse boat was blown well out to sea.'

‘An' was she out all night?' cried Behag.

‘Aye.'

‘I hope she had plenty of clothes on,' I said. ‘It was cold last night for the time of year.'

‘She had nossin' on but a basing costume, so tsey told me,' said Hector. ‘An' no much of a one at tsat.'

‘And was she all right when they found her?' I asked.

Hector thought for a moment. ‘I tsink tsey said she was a wee bit exposed,' he replied.

‘Oh well, I'm glad they found her, the poor soul,' said Behag with relief. ‘She might have been drowned.'

‘You should have heard tsem pollis cursin' her for it tsough,' Hector told her. ‘Wiss tsem not gettin' a skart an' after bringin' tse gun specially.' He lifted up a foot and obediently Behag knelt and pulled off his boot.

‘I'm wonderin' why the pollis had to go to Rhuna,' Morag probed.

Hector wiped his hand over his chin and there was a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

‘Tsey've lost tse bull,' he told his aunt. ‘So tsey sent for tse pollis to see what tsey could do.'

‘Is that true?' she asked.

‘Aye,' he affirmed. ‘My, but I got a laugh when we was comin' back an' one of tse pollis says to tse osser, “It's a shame right enough you have no ammo for tsat gun. Just look at tsat raft of skarts over tsere.” He was right too, tsere was seventy of tsem if tsere was one. I was wishin' tsem pollis anywhere but in my boat so I could have a shot at tsem myself.' He poured himself out another cup of tea.

‘Tsen one of tsem says to me, “Hector”, he says, “are you sure you have no gun aboard yourself?” Ach well, tse man was sittin' on it if he had but known but I couldn't tell him tsat. Tsen I got a scare when I tsought maybe tsey'd heard me shoo tin' at the rabbits while I was waitin' for tsem in Rhuna. I was just tsinkin' tsey was goin' to start askin' more questions when suddenly one of tsem jumps up. “My God!” says he. “Tsat ammo! I just remembered it was in my trouser pockets an' I gave tsem to my wife to dry for me. She usually puts tsem in tse oven or in front of tse fire”. The other pollis just laughs. “Never mind”, he tells him, “you can always claim for a new pair if tsey're too badly damaged!” '

Johnny arrived, whistling his way in from the shadowed sunlight. ‘Aye, aye,' he greeted us and picking up Hector's paper sat himself down in a corner to read it.

‘I see that school teacher that was here once stayin' with Janet has got married,' he said, looking up. They identified the man for me and dismissed him as being a Roman Catholic.

‘My God!' said Johnny. ‘It would be a queer weddin' if it was a Roman Catholic one.'

I looked up in surprise. I found the Bruachites' vehement prejudice against Roman Catholics a startling contrast to their usual tolerance.

‘Didn't mean' Angus go to a Papist weddin' once,' Johnny went on. ‘One of his crew married a Roman Catholic girl an' we went away down to the weddin'. I never saw the like of it. The church didn't look like a church an' the fellow that was. takin' the service, the priest they called him, he was laughin' an' jokin' just the same as if he wasn't religious at all.'

‘Oh my, my,' murmured Morag and Behag.

‘Aye, it's true,' said Johnny. ‘He met us on the steps an' asks us if we're guests at the weddin'. When we told him we was he said to follow him. We did that an' he took us into this place that looked more like a garage. It was cold as I don't know what an' he saw we was shiverin' so he brought one of them electric fires for us an' put it on one of the seats. Honest, we could smell the varnish burnin' with it. Then he went up to the front of the church an' he said, “Would you like a record on while we're waitin' for the bride?” He had a gramophone there an' he put on “Mairi's weddin'.” He was playin' about doin' somethin' an' suddenly he claps his hands an' he says, “Oh God! I forgot the holy water”, an' he's away out of the church with his robes flyin' behind him. While he's away the bride turns up an' findin' nobody there to meet her she walks up the aisle an' just stands there waitin'. The door of the church bangs open an' the priest shouts, “Stand up, everybody, for the entry of the bride!” We all stand up but he saw she was there so he says, “All right, I see she's here so you can all sit down again”.'

‘What a weddin'!' disapproved Morag.

‘Aye, indeed,' Johnny agreed.

‘Was the bride in white?' asked Behag.

‘White or some colour,' said Johnny. ‘An' that was another thing. I told you this priest put the electric fire on one of the seats?'

We nodded.

‘Aye, well suddenly he notices the bride is shiverin'. “Are you cold?” he asks her right in the middle of the ceremony. She nods. “Then I'll get you the fire”, he says an looks around. “What did I do with that fire?” he asks. Well by this time the seat was nearly beginnin' to burn, he only has to sniff to find it. “Ah, I remember now”, he says, an' takes away the fire. He puts it so close to the bride she's havin' to move away from it while he's readin' the service for fear it sets fire to her dress.'

‘That was no right weddin',' said Erchy.

‘It was a good time we had after it all the same,' Johnny told him. ‘By God! but the whisky flowed that night an' the wee priest had his share too.'

Morag shook her head. ‘A priest,' she said, her voice full of condemnation.

‘Aye,' said Johnny, ‘but d'you know the people thought the world of him, true as I'm here. You'd never get a minister from our church to have people sayin' as nice things about him as they were sayin' about their priest. Not an' meanin' them too,' he added.

It was less than a week to Angus's wedding and as the days passed the Bruachites hastened to finish their haymaking or at least get it in weatherproof cocks so that they would not feel guilty at taking time off for the great day. Morag, Behag and Erchy had been helping me finish my winter stack and afterwards we sat in the cottage drinking tea. Hector, doubtless having prospected and seen that the work was over, ambled in and joined us. I showed them the wedding present I had bought. They admired it dutifully but even after years of familiarity with them I could not tell if they really approved.

‘I'm thinkin' Sarah will be at the weddin',' said Erchy.

‘Sarah? What makes you think that?'

Sarah rarely went outside the boundaries of the village.

‘I saw her comin' away from the Post office an' she had a proper list to starboard,' Erchy told us. He was referring to the fact that Sarah collected her pension only when the post mistress complained she couldn't sleep at night because there was too much money lying in the Post office (sometimes as much as five pounds). Then Sarah would leave her croft for half an hour to collect her dues. As she never recognized notes as money Sarah always insisted on being paid in silver and as her purse was a pocket inside the leg of her buttoned knickers her financial position could always be detected by the way she walked.

Behag tittered. ‘You'd think she'd use a purse like other folks,' she said.

‘Sarah will never trust anythin' but the leg of her knickers to keep it safe,' Morag told her.

‘Aye well, at her age I daresay it's safe enough,' said Erchy.

‘Too safe,' I said. I had once chaperoned Sarah on a trip to the mainland dentist. It had been necessary to take a bus from the port and when we came to pay the fare to the strange driver he found he could not change my pound note. I managed to find enough silver to pay for myself but when he asked Sarah for her fare she handed him a shilling.

‘The fare is two shillings,' he told her.

Sarah was indignant. ‘It was only one shilling when I was last on this bus,' she argued.

‘It's been two shillings ever since I've been drivin' it,' the driver told her, ‘an' that's twelve years now.'

Sarah flushed. ‘I'll give it to you when you stop the bus,' she promised.

Now the trouble was that Sarah, when she did venture anywhere, used to work out exactly how much money she expected to need for her trip. Bus fare, ferry fare, so much for purchases, would be wrapped up separately in a twist of paper and kept in a tin at the bottom of her shopping bag. Money set side for emergencies was tucked securely up her knicker leg. Confronted now with the demand from the driver she was both embarrassed and indignant. When the bus stopped Sarah and I got out and went round to the back. the driver, obviously suspecting we might be using this as a ruse for not paying, came to keep an eye on us. Sarah started to root up her layers of long skirts and unbutton the leg of her breeches, all the while glowering at the driver until he turned his back. Eventually she managed to extract another shilling. She handed it to him and he studied it closely. There was a slight relaxing of his expression as he said, ‘1920. By God, you've had it up there long enough.'

That was not the only time I had been involved in an episode with Sarah's knickers. I met her one day when she was taking her cow to the bull. She seemed very distressed, frequently stopping to sit down on the side of the road and trying to straighten her bent back.

‘Are you all right, Sarah?' I asked her.

‘Indeed I was all right this mornin' but there's somethin' wrong with me now,' she complained.

‘I'll take the cow on for you if you'd like to go back home,' I offered.

‘Well, if you'd just keep an eye on her while I go an' pee I'll be grateful,' she replied. ‘It's maybe just that is the matter with me.'

I walked behind an all too eager cow and in a few minutes Sarah was catching up with me with a greatly relieved expression. I looked at her questioningly.

‘Ach, here's me thinkin' maybe it was my stomach that was wrong, or maybe my heart, or my back, but when I went to pee I found it was only that I had my knickers on back to front. I changed them round an' I'm feelin' fine now.'

Erchy said, ‘I reckon Angus an' Mairi will do pretty well out of their weddin'. Folks seem to be set on givin' them good presents to help with the do he's plannin'.' Mostly the Bruachites gave envelopes of money to the groom actually at the wedding.

‘Not Tearlaich won't,' interposed Hector with his meaning smile.

‘Why not Tearlaich?' asked Morag.

‘Ach, he's greetin about tse laird cheatin' him.'

‘Right enough he's lost out this time by it,' Erchy affirmed with a chuckle.

‘Was he claimin' for his corn again, then?' Morag asked.

‘Aye.'

Tearlaich owned one of the outlying crofts which adjoined the grazing. When the corn he had sown had grown to a tempting height it had been known for the deer to come down from the hills, leap the fence and plunder his crop. As the laird owned the deer he was responsible for any damage they did and being a generous laird he had always paid Tearlaich's assessment of the damage without quibble. Tearlaich soon made it a habit to claim every year and every year the compensation was forthcoming.

‘He claimed again,' Erchy said, ‘but he got word the laird was comin' to inspect it this time. It's never happened before an' Tearlaich knew the man was suspicious. He had to run an' get his cows an' drive them through his corn before the laird turned up.'

‘And did he get away with it?'

‘He did not, then. One of the cows left a pat behind it an' the laird saw it. He may be daft but he can tell the difference between cow dung an' deer muck, so he turned on Tearlaich an' threatened him.'

‘The man deserves it!' said Morag.

‘The trouble is Tearlaich's fairly ravin' because when the deer get in another year he won't dare to complain ever again,' said Erchy.

No-one had much sympathy for the perfidious Tearlaich who spent nine tenths of his time belittling the gentry and nine tenths of his income aping them.

‘So tsat's one that will not have so much to spare for tse weddin' present said Hector. ‘An' here's anosser.' He indicated himself.

‘Oh be quiet!' his wife told him. In Bruach the expression ‘Oh be quiet' was used in the same way as English people say ‘you don't say!'. Disconcerting as it may sound to a stranger it nevertheless invites further revelations.