The Nickum (34 page)

Her hand on her heart, Emily plumped down on the nearest chair. ‘Pat Michie? Willie’s pal?’

‘That’s right. Oh, I hope I haven’t upset you?’

Her eyes had filled with tears, but she brushed them away. ‘No, no. I’m surprised, that’s all.’

‘I came to tell you – I don’t suppose you know anything about how he … died?’ Her negative head-shake made him carry on. ‘He saved my life, you see. In fact, he saved a whole lot of lives.’

Motioning to him to sit down too, it didn’t even enter her head to offer him a cup of tea, her usual method of welcoming a visitor. Her entire being was concentrated on hearing what she had longed to find out for some years now. It came pouring out, the awful truth of the tragedy that this young man had lived through; the guilt that still haunted him.

It had started with the withdrawal of the troops who had thought they had wrested El Alamein from the enemy; the reorganisation of the men; the realisation of one Commanding Officer that they needed help desperately; the request for a volunteer to replace the Despatch riders who had been killed in the fierce battle.

Although Emily knew at once who had volunteered, she said nothing, unwilling to break into a narrative which she knew was the truth, not some gilded tale the War Office had issued to cover up some dire mistake.

‘So Willie roared off on the old motor bike, and I could have kicked him for being so foolhardy. We all knew there were snipers lurking in the scrub just beyond where we were encamped, for they had killed quite a few of our lads, and I just hoped he’d be extra careful.’

‘Careful wasn’t Willie’s style.’ Knowing her son’s failings, she couldn’t help saying it. ‘And extra careful was something he’d never have recognised.’

Acknowledging this with a faint nod, Pat continued, anxious to explain how he had come into the picture. ‘A few of us were sent out to search for the radio equipment that had been dropped as we were retreating, and I happened to pick the area where the snipers were hiding – or maybe there was only one, I don’t know. Whatever, I hadn’t been there more than ten minutes when I went down with several bullets in my side. I lost consciousness, and they must have thought I was dead, for nobody came to finish me off. Willie must have come back some time after that, saw me lying in the road and tumbled to what had happened. I had come round by then, but I’m not really sure of this. I think he’d heard a movement and realised we were both in danger. Anyway, he flopped over me to save me, and took the volley himself.’ Pat looked up now, the sweat standing out on his brow as he recalled the scene.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Fowlie, I maybe shouldn’t have told you, but I wanted you to know how brave he was. And it’ll maybe comfort you to know something else. Just before he died, he looked straight into my eyes and said, “This is for you, Poopie.” Do you understand that?’

Emily could not have described, supposing she had been offered a fortune for doing so, how she felt at that moment. It was as if God himself had looked down on her and assured her that her son had absolved himself of all the imagined blame he had carried on his shoulders for years. ‘Yes, I understand it. Do you?’

‘Aye, he told me all about Poopie, so I know he blamed himself.’

‘And you think he went to meet his Maker easier because he’d atoned for neglecting Poopie?’

‘I’m sure of it. What’s more, because he delivered the message that we needed reinforcements, he saved a lot more lives.’

They sat in silence for some minutes, each remembering the dead soldier in their own way – Pat as a close friend and comrade, Emily as the ‘wee nickum’ who had been the bane of her life for most of his, and their emotions were too raw to speak about.

At last, with a start, the woman pulled herself together, remembered her manners, and offered her visitor a cup of tea. Their tongues seemed to be released with the refreshment, and the conversation centred now on current issues – what Pat intended to do with his life, how he would feel free to look for work, to make a career of some kind, and the time slipped past unnoticed. It was only when the kitchen clock struck twelve that Emily shot to her feet. ‘Oh my, Jake’ll be in and there’s no dinner ready.’

Pat also stood up. ‘I’d better get out of your way, then.’

‘You can’t go yet. You’ll have to wait and meet Willie’s father.’

Jake, of course, the rough countryman that he was, took Pat’s version of events much more calmly than his wife, outwardly at least, but perhaps much more affected than he seemed. Having only half an hour’s break, he didn’t tarry long, bolting the thick cheese sandwiches his wife rustled up, and the other two were left alone once more.

It was only after he’d dried the dishes and helped to lay them past that Pat noticed the box of toys in the corner of the kitchen and looked at his hostess for an answer.

‘They’re my grandson’s,’ she smiled. ‘We were sharing him for a few years, but his other grandma had heart trouble, so we’d to take him all the time except weekends when his mother came home. She’s a teacher in Aberdeen, and she’s home on holiday just now, so she’s got him till the schools start again.’

Looking puzzled, Pat said, ‘Did your younger daughter come home from America? Is he her little boy?’

‘No, no – well Becky did come back and she works in the town, as well, but it’s Willie’s little boy. Billy, he’s called, and he’s just as mischievous as his father was.’

‘And his mother? Is it Millie, by any chance? Willie spoke a lot about her.’

‘Yes, Millie it is, and she’s a really nice girl. She got our Becky lodgings in her aunt’s house in Aberdeen.’

‘I would like to see Millie, Mrs Fowlie. Could you let me have her address?’

‘Her father’s the dominie, so it’s the schoolhouse, but you’re not fit enough to walk that far.’

‘I could phone for a taxi.’

‘Oh, laddie, there’s no phones round here, but I tell you what. If you stay the night, you could get a lift from the grocer’s van in the morning. He’s here about ten, and we’re the last of his calls hereabouts, and I’m sure he goes to the Meldrums’ on his way to the Mains.’

‘You don’t mind me staying overnight?’

It turned out to be an ideal arrangement. It gave Jake an opportunity to ask as many questions as he wanted about the Battle of El Alamein, the dreary months Pat had spent in various hospitals for well over a year in Cairo being patched up, but not quite ready for battle. It was fortunate that the war had come to an end and this young man was no longer needed, yet he had been treated in various hospitals for well over a year before he was discharged with the warning ‘to take his time about looking for a job’. Emily, already acquainted with all the facts, was content to sit and listen, her heart sore for the son who should also have been present but had been too intent on clearing his conscience to consider anyone’s feelings but his own.

Immediately this thought crossed her mind, she was ashamed. That wasn’t the way of it. Willie’s intention had been to save Pat, and in doing so Poopie had come to his mind. It was good. He had actually killed two birds with one stone – although that wasn’t a proper way of expressing it. He was a hero, twice over – that was nearer the mark, for the salvo that ended his life had given a warning to all the soldiers in the area. Not only that, his journey had resulted also in bringing extra troops who swung the battle in their favour.

Millie Meldrum was shocked at first, yet delighted that the young man had wanted to tell her what had happened to Willie, and like Emily, she had to sit down. Younger, however, and much more resilient, she could withstand the assault on her emotions without breaking down, and could nod her satisfaction at his answers to her relevant questions. They had gone over the whole saga once and were probing a little deeper, when Billy bounced in.

‘Me and Ganda feeded the ducks,’ he said, his speech having much improved since his mother had spent some of her holiday time trying to train him. She was by no means satisfied with his grammar, but enough was enough at one time.

Herbert waited only long enough to be introduced and to be told the young man’s reason for being there, before he went upstairs to see his wife, who had been in bed for some weeks now and was indeed showing some signs of getting over the trouble she had had.

Billy now proceeded to make friends with the stranger. ‘My Daddy was a shoulder,’ he announced.

‘I know,’ Pat smiled. ‘I was in the army with him.’

‘Was you a Goddon Highland as well?’

‘I was that.’

The bond forged, the little boy sidled up to the young man. ‘My Daddy was brave. Was you?’

Pat grinned now. ‘Not me, lad. I’m no hero.’

When Herbert came back, he said Pat was to stay for lunch, and he was welcome to stay for as long as he wanted. ‘It’ll do me good to have some male company for a while,’ he laughed. ‘I’ve been under petticoat government for far too long.’

‘I’ll have lunch, but I must get home,’ Pat apologised. ‘Mum thinks I should spend more time with her.’

‘Well, she’s quite right on that, but couldn’t you spend an hour or two with me? We could go for a walk in the afternoon. I’d like to know more about … well, just more.’

It was almost six o’clock, therefore, when Herbert deposited his new young friend outside his home in Elgin despite his objections that he didn’t want to take advantage. ‘Nonsense, my boy. I consider it my duty, since you’ve been good enough to let my daughter know what happened. I think that was what she felt so badly about, that she had no idea of what had happened to Willie.’

‘I wasn’t sure about coming,’ the young man admitted. ‘I was scared it might upset her too much. I know it upset Mrs Fowlie.’

‘But I’m sure she was glad you made the effort.’ He refused to go in to meet Mrs Michie, but issued an open invitation for Pat to visit the schoolhouse whenever he wanted. ‘And remember to let us know when you get a decent job. Don’t take any old thing. Make sure it’s worthwhile, and if you need someone to vouch for you, I’ll be pleased to oblige.’

‘I’ll do my best, Mr Meldrum, and thank you for everything.’

Neither the Meldrums nor the Fowlies gave out any information on who their young visitor was or why he had called, so the curiosity aroused in the area was left un-answered, and rumours ran rife.

‘It was a debt collector to the Fowlies.’

‘But nae the Meldrums as weel, surely? They canna be short o’ cash.’

Or – ‘It was a man lookin’ for Becky Fowlie. She’d stolen money fae him. But dinna ask fit wye he went to the Meldrums, ’cos I dinna ken that.’

Or – ‘He was a solicitor – the Meldrums are suein’ the Fowlies for their Willie puttin’ Millie in the puddin’ club.’

‘But they canna prove it was Willie, can they?’

‘The bobbies can prove onything these days, even if the criminal’s been deid for years. Onywye, a’body ken’t Willie was the father.’

And so it went on, with Jake itching to let fly at them and Emily telling him it would only make things worse. ‘Let them say what they like. They can’t hurt us.’

Another unexpected visit from Becky gave Emily good cause to worry. Her daughter never did anything unusual without it having an underlying motive, but what could she want this time?

‘Millie tells me her mother’s going to start taking a turn in looking after Billy again?’ the girl began.

‘What’s Billy got to do with it?’

‘Look, Mam, I’ll come clean. I’ve been seeing a lot of Jack Burns, and he wants us to get wed again, and he says he won’t care if I don’t want a family. But, I know he does, so I want to—’

‘You want to spend time with Billy to see how you feel. Is that it?’

‘That’s it – to a T. D’you think I’m off my head?’

‘I know you’re off your head, but it’s nothing to do with me. You’re old enough to make up your own mind. I’ll give you one day – will that do?’

‘I think so. I hope so.’

Becky took over the boy the next forenoon; washed him, dressed him, made sure he had plenty to eat, played games with him, and after supper, put him to bed. ‘I’ll just manage the last bus,’ she said, flinging her coat over her shoulders and making for the door. ‘I’m going to say yes.’

She was gone before Emily could quiz her.

Jack Burns courted Becky properly, attentive and thoughtful, for the next four weeks before arranging for them to be married in the Registry Office in Bridge Street. Sophie organised a celebratory meal for the wedding party – the bride and groom, Millie as bridesmaid and one of Jack’s colleagues from the firm of accountants as best man, and both sets of parents. It was a really joyous occasion and as an extra surprise, Sophie had also asked the Meldrums, who brought the youngest guest of the lot. Little Billy’s presence dispelled any awkwardness that may have been between Tom and Flora Burns and their reinstated daughter-in-law, and the whole affair seemed to wipe the slate entirely clean.

In her heart, of course, Rebecca Burns realised that it would only remain clean for as long as she played fair with her reunited husband – which she was determined to do, in any case. Life returned to normal for the rest of the wedding guests, but when the bridal couple returned from their honeymoon in Pitlochry, they set up house in a rented, furnished bungalow in the Ashgrove district of Aberdeen.

Emily was in for another shock in a few months, not so drastic, nor so upsetting, but still enough to make her worry about it. Becky hadn’t been home once since her marriage, nor had she written except for the odd scribbled note to say she was well, so it set the tongues wagging again to see her turn up late one Saturday evening.

Having had no warning, her mother jumped to the most obvious solution. ‘I suppose you’re expecting?’

‘Oh, great,’ her daughter snapped. ‘No “Hello, Becky, how are you?” As it so happens, you’re right. I am expecting, and I’m not all that happy about it.’

Irritated, Emily sighed. ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t mind, and Jackie really wants a family, doesn’t he?’

‘He doesn’t like being called Jackie now, Mum. Can’t you try to remember? Anyway, it’s all right for him. It’s not him that has to grow fat and horrible and suffer all the pain.’

‘Look, Becky, I think you’re forgetting something here. If you don’t give him the child he wants – at least one – old Tom will likely throw you out again. Without any money this time. Then where would you be? Back on the streets. And you needn’t expect any help from us. Your father and I are both ashamed of you, you know that?’