Fields of Blue Flax (18 page)

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Authors: Sue Lawrence

BOOK: Fields of Blue Flax
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Christ, was he even going to a dental thing, hadn’t he been to one just before the kids’ accident? Was he having an affair? She shook her head. She was sure he wouldn’t ever betray her, yet he’d been acting so strangely recently. She headed for the window, opened it wide then stomped downstairs.

In the kitchen she looked around for something to distract her. She picked up the folder of family history research and sat down to look at it. They had got so far, but still couldn’t
find any record of Elizabeth Barrie before 1871. Would Chris ever get her mind off this fixation on the court case and back onto this? She doubted it. She closed the folder and looked at her watch. Might as well open a bottle, it’s that time of night, she thought, heading for the wine rack.

Lottie sat cross-legged on the floor of Anna’s Newcastle flat and proffered her empty glass to Jack, who lay sprawled across the bed. They all had their coats on and Lottie had her scarf wrapped round her neck, as the heating had packed in.

The three of them had just finished their take-away pizzas and Anna was ramming the cardboard boxes into the overflowing bin with her foot. She gave a final thrust then went to take the bottle of red from her brother. ‘Does Auntie Mags ever get really arsey with Uncle Doug and just bawl at him the whole time?’ she asked Lottie. ‘That’s what Mum and Dad were like last time I was up. They were so snappy, weren’t they, Jack?’

Jack frowned. ‘Er, no actually, Dad was fine. It’s Mum, she gets so cross with him. No idea why, he’s just trying to be helpful.’

‘She’s been pretty grumpy since the accident, hasn’t she?’

‘Well,’ said Lottie, ‘she can’t be worse than my dad is right now. He’s so bloody stressed these days. I mean, he looks terrible, really rough, like he’s got a permanent hangover.’

‘Uncle Doug could never look rough. You know my friends Mia and Jen really fancy him even though he’s ancient,’ Anna said, grinning.

Lottie smiled and picked up her glass. ‘Is there any more wine, Anna? It’s warming me up.’

Anna poured the dregs of the bottle into Lottie’s glass.

‘Thanks. Anyway, change of subject from parents – you know that girl Katie I babysit for? She’s thirteen, doesn’t really need a sitter but her mum wants me there. Anyway, she was starting work on some project on genetics and I told her about a fact I remembered from somewhere.’

She went over to Jack and took his chin in her hand. She tilted his face up and looked at him. ‘Yeah, you’ve got brown eyes, so Uncle Gerry’s must be brown too as I know Auntie Chris’s are really blue.’

Anna shook her head. ‘Nope, Dad’s are blue too, though not as kind of turquoise as Mum’s.’

Lottie sat down beside Anna. ‘Well, according to the Google search I did with Katie, it’s impossible for two blue-eyed parents to have a brown-eyed child.’

‘Oh yeah, that sounds kind of familiar, but is it not the other way round? Two brown-eyed can’t have a blue?’ Anna produced a slab of chocolate and broke it into pieces, offering it round.

‘Oh, yeah, maybe,’ said Lottie, taking a piece. ‘I’ll get some more info for Katie online. Her teacher’s an idiot so I said I’d help her with it.’

‘Any more wine?’ asked Jack.

Anna lifted up the covers hanging off her bed and peered underneath. ‘Nope, that was one I pinched from home anyway. No booze left. Let’s go down to the pub, might be warmer there.’

When she got back to Edinburgh the next day, Lottie went to visit her mum. She opened the kitchen door and saw Mags standing at the stove, wooden spoon in one hand, stirring a sauce, glass of wine in the other. She shook her head and grinned. ‘Look at you, Mum, your favourite
pose!’

She gave Mags a kiss. ‘Did you have a good time, darling?’ Mags put down her glass and the spoon and gave her daughter a hug. ‘How are they both?’

‘They’re both good. Jack is completely recovered, according to the doctor, so no excuses if he fails his exams!’

Mags laughed and pointed to the wine bottle.

‘No, thanks. I’ve got to teach later. I’ll have a green tea.’ She headed for the kettle. ‘So it’s closure on that horrible accident for them all. Everything’s completely back to normal.’

Mags tasted her sauce then put on the lid and switched the gas off. ‘Well, apart from Chris’s obsession with revenge on the guy who rammed them, it’s really not healthy but she won’t let up.’

‘Is he not going to court?’

‘He didn’t turn up, so they’ve rescheduled. But she’s really consumed by it all, even though the kids are fine.’ Mags shook her head.

Lottie told her mum more about her visit to Anna’s then she got onto Katie and her genetics project. ‘So is it two brown-eyed parents who can’t have a blue-eyed child?’

Mags shrugged. ‘No idea, darling. You know I’ve never had any interest in science. Ask your dad, he was always into that sort of thing.’

Lottie had already booked a dental check-up for the next day with her dad, who was now back from the conference. Doug turned round from the computer in the corner as his daughter entered the surgery. He smiled and pointed to the dentist’s chair.

‘Hop up.’ Amy handed her a large plastic bib to put
round her neck as he tugged on his latex gloves.

He pressed his foot on the pedal to lower the back of the reclining seat. ‘So what have you been up to?’

‘Well, remember I was down in Newcastle and…’

‘Open wide,’ he said, peering into her mouth. ‘Hmm, got a bit of plaque build-up on the molars. You’re still using that electric toothbrush I gave you, aren’t you?’

She nodded, mouth wide.

‘Well you need to use it more at the back. But don’t go mad, like Mum does, it’s bad for the gums. Let the brush do all the work.’

He picked up an instrument and she relaxed her mouth. ‘Anna and Jack are both fine, by the way, fully recovered after the accident, according to the doctors. We were chatting about genetics so Mum said to ask you about the eye colour thing. You know how two parents with the same eye colouring can’t have a child with a different colour, but I can’t remember which way round it is. Can two browns not have a blue?’

‘Bollocks, that whole eye colour thing, really common misconception. Right, open wide!’ Doug stood over her, instrument in hand, concentrating on her teeth. Lottie looked up at the ceiling which was bare, apart from a glaring strip light. Why did dentists never have interesting things up there to take patients’ minds off the trauma of the violation on their teeth?

She returned her focus to her father and looked straight up at him as he scraped at her teeth in silence. God, he was a bit jowly these days, that was obviously all Mum’s fab food, though it could be the beer too. She stared up into his eyes. As she did so, she took a sharp intake of breath.

‘Sorry, Lotts, was that sore? Your gums are a bit sensitive
there.’

She gaped at the deep brown eyes and did not move.

‘Are you all right, Lottie?’ Amy asked. ‘You’ve gone a bit pale.’

She nodded slowly and clenched her hands tight together on her stomach. She had seen eyes exactly the same just the day before. Her cousin Jack’s.

 

Chapter Thirty-two

18th June 1860

The clip-clop of the horse announced her arrival. The cart drew to a halt outside the imposing stone edifice of the manse and everything was still, apart from a snorting as the horse shuffled its head back and forth. It was early morning and a light summer mist hung low over the village.

The driver leapt down, creaked the manse gate open and ran along the path to the back door, which was ajar. Soon a figure wrapped in a large shawl emerged and walked silently down the path.

‘Here, hand the wee one tae me, Miss Charlotte, while you get down by the loupin’-on-stane here.’ Cookie pointed to the set of five stone steps built beside the wall for easy dismounting from horse or carriage. There was another at the other side of the manse, by the gate to the churchyard.

Charlotte handed the swaddled baby down to Cookie then descended the steps and stood gazing at the manse. This had been her home since she was born but for the past few months she had lived at Corrie with her beautiful child. But now her father needed her back at home. He had decreed it was not fitting that a minister should live there without a lady and since he now had no wife, his daughter would have to suffice.

She looked down the road and considered what she was about to do, something that would pain her more than childbirth itself. She shuddered as she peered through the morning haze.

‘Shall I tak’ your bag intae the manse, Miss Charlotte?’

‘Thank you, Grieve, that would be kind. Cookie and I will be back presently.’

Charlotte stretched her arms out for her baby, then snuggled the bundle close to her breast. ‘She’s sleeping, Cookie. I fed her before we left. Are you sure Mrs Barrie has enough milk for two babies?’

They walked along the road past the little village houses, some with faint lights from early morning candles. ‘Margaret Barrie has such a bosom on her, Miss Charlotte, she could nurse a’ the bairns in Angus. That wee one o’ hers is a skinny wee soul, so she’s plenty milk left for your baby.’

Charlotte began to sniffle. ‘I cannot imagine how life will be without her, not yet four months old but such a joy. How will I find the strength to endure each day?’

‘I’m sure that, wi’ a bit o’ time, he’ll let you see her. I mean they’re just doon the road and…’

Charlotte stopped walking, and brushed her fingertips across her daughter’s plump cheek. ‘He will not. The shame of everyone talking about it would be too much. He has said I am to be confined to the manse, penance for the disgrace I have caused, and for bringing about my mother’s demise. If I am allowed out, it will be to the garden or along the path to the church. He said he needs me at home now Mother is gone, but truly, I believe he wants to keep me a prisoner.’

‘You mustnae think like that, Miss. And you didnae cause your poor mother’s death. She was always a wee bit poorly and prone to a’ sorts. He said it was the shock that did it, but I’m sure it was just her time.’

‘Cookie, she was only fifty-seven years old. If you had seen her face when she looked at Elizabeth that day, you’d
know I caused her death.’ Charlotte looked up at the sky, which was beginning to brighten. ‘And so I must now atone for my transgressions. It is God’s will.’

They came to a halt outside a house that had a wisp of smoke emerging from the low chimney.

Charlotte bit her lips as Cookie rapped on the door.

‘He won’t be here, will he?’ Charlotte whispered, panic in her voice.

Cookie shook her head. ‘The men have already a’ gone tae the fields’, she said then nodded as Margaret Barrie opened the door. She stood in a ragged brown dress on the doorstep and for a moment did not move. She eyed Charlotte up and down, assessing how she had changed in the past months. Still tall and slender by the looks of her but less well kempt, her frock was a little ragged around the hem, and her eyes were red-rimmed and weary.

‘I willnae ask you in, wee Jane’s still sound asleep.’

‘Is the cot big enough for two babies?’

Margaret glowered at her. ‘Aye, plenty big. And there’s certainly nae problems wi’ feeding the both o’ them.’ She paused to press a forearm across her large breasts and squirmed. ‘I’ve tae much milk, they’re sore a’ the time.’

Charlotte nodded and looked down at Elizabeth, who was still sleeping, her long black lashes throwing a slight shadow across her perfect skin. She planted a kiss on her nose, before Cookie gently reached forward to take her baby away. Charlotte screwed up her eyes as if in physical pain as Margaret snatched the baby from Cookie. ‘She’s heavier than Jane but maybe my Janie’ll overtake this one soon.’

She turned to go back inside.

Charlotte leant forward, trying to see where her child was
to live. ‘Mrs Barrie, you’ll let us know if there’s anything you need?’

‘I’ll let Elspeth ken if there’s anything.’ She nodded gravely at both women and shut the door behind her.

Charlotte’s legs buckled and she collapsed onto Cookie’s shoulder. The older woman put an arm round her and walked her along the road. ‘There, there, it’ll be fine, Miss Charlotte. Margaret’s no’ a bad woman, just a simple country wifie. The wee one’ll be fine. At least she’s just doon the road – mind the other option was for her to gang far away and you’d never see her ever again. It’s for the best. Now let’s get you home and straight tae yer bed.’

Charlotte’s sniffles were now sobs, uncontrollable gasps that wracked her whole body as she leant against Cookie’s shoulders.

They shambled along the road to the manse where a dim light emerged from the study. As the gate scraped open, a curtain was drawn a fraction and the women saw a black figure peering out, eyes blazing in a haunting pale face.

 

Chapter Thirty-three

2014

Lottie stumbled into the car park outside her dad’s dental practice and pulled out her phone. She typed out a quick text, asking him to meet her at the pub next door when he finished. It was an abrupt message, ‘Meet for drink at five, pub next door.’ No kisses. She knew he would do as she asked.

Now she had an hour to kill, but she couldn’t go home, to her parents’ house, until she had seen him. She couldn’t face her mum and pretend everything was normal. She felt dazed.

Lottie decided she would wait in the pub and have a drink while waiting for him, to try and calm her nerves.

Mags had texted Christine earlier asking her to call if she had a minute during her lunch break. In the middle of unloading the dishwasher, her phone rang.

‘Is everything all right?’ asked Christine.

‘Yeah, I just wanted to run something past you.’

‘Fire away.’

‘I’m a bit worried. You know I’ve mentioned before how stressed Doug is? Well, there have been other signs, I won’t go into them now but, the thing is… God, I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I think he’s having – or has had – an affair.’

Silence.

‘Did you hear me?’

‘Yes, sorry, a P2 boy’s just tripped and fallen headlong, but Eileen’s there. So, why do you reckon he might be?’

‘He’s unbelievably grumpy and distant, and has been for ages now – Lottie’s noticed it too – and, well, he doesn’t seem to fancy me any more, he’s barely touched me in weeks. I don’t know what to do.’

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