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  She was finding it difficult to justify her robbing them of a rare pleasure.

  It was easy and truthful enough to say that they were too tired.

  The real reasons were more complex. Yes, she had not wanted to be seen in such a public place with Hamilton, both for his sake, for his friends would laugh at him, and for her own, because she did not want to be more obliged to him than she already was.

  But that was not the main reason.

  The humiliating truth was that she was afraid of falling in love with him. If she did, if she let it happen, she would for the rest of her life not be able to forget him and what he could have represented for her.

  In her ten-year-old way Morag was already in love with him. Therefore she vaguely sympathised with her big sister, but was also a little jealous. She could not resist teasing Effie.

  ‘Mr Hamilton isn’t married, is he, Effie?’

  ‘You know he isn’t. We wouldn’t be in his house if he was.’

  ‘Why isn’t he? He’s very good-looking and he’s got a big house.’

  ‘And a car,’ added Eddie, who kept yawning.

  ‘Perhaps he hasn’t met anyone he wanted to marry.’

  ‘But he will one day, won’t he?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘What kind of woman will she be?’

  ‘Goodness, how should I know?’

  ‘She’ll be very good-looking.’

  ‘He may think good looks aren’t important.’

  ‘She’ll wear hats and go to church.’

  Effie had to smile. ‘I’m sure she will.’

  ‘She’ll read books.’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘She’ll wear nice clothes.’

  ‘So she will.’

  ‘She’ll smell nice.’

  ‘She’ll be able to afford expensive perfumes.’

  ‘I think she’ll be lucky. Do you think she’ll be lucky, Effie?’

  ‘Very lucky.’

  ‘If I was your age, Effie, I’d want to marry him myself. Would you like to marry him?’

  ‘Not me. Do you know why?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘I don’t like men with beards.’

  ‘But his is such a nice beard.’

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Eddie. He was almost asleep.

  ‘Effie, are you going to marry Daniel?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘That’s why he’s coming, isn’t it?’

  ‘He’s coming to attend grandfather’s funeral. Would you like me to marry him?’

  ‘No. He’s too old.’

  ‘He gives me money,’ muttered Eddie.

  ‘When you’re married, Effie, will you have children of your own?’

  ‘I suppose so. That’s why people get married.’

  ‘How many will you have?’

  ‘Dozens.’

  ‘I’m being serious, Effie.’

  ‘Well, say three.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want us then, me and Eddie, would you?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course I would. I love you both. You’re my sister and brother.’

  ‘Half-sister and half-brother. Maybe the person you marry, Effie, won’t want us.’

  Such a person was Daniel. He would put the children into care.

  Effie looked at the clock on the wall.

  ‘We’d better go or we’ll miss the bus.’

  ‘We don’t need the bus,’ said Eddie. ‘We can go in Mr Hamilton’s car.’

  ‘We can’t,’ said Morag. ‘Effie’s not friends with Mr Hamilton.’

  ‘Why is she not friends with him?’

  ‘I don’t know. You’d better ask her.’

  But Effie just smiled and shook her head.

  At the hotel they were in good time for the bus.

  Before she got on board Effie furtively glanced about, looking for Hamilton. Of course he wasn’t there. She had some cheek thinking he might be.

  He was in the kitchen, putting away the groceries, when there was a knock on the door; not the main door but the one the servants must have used. There were stairs leading up to the attics where they had slept. It was to ensure that they did not have to appear in the main part of the house. Those men of God, those Church of Scotland ministers with their large families, had been autocratic as well as lustful.

  ‘Come in,’ he called.

  It was Effie. She had been crying.

  He had a great desire to take her in his arms.

  ‘Come in, Effie. Sit down. Is there anything the matter?’

  What a fatuous question, he thought. There were so many things the matter with poor Effie.

  ‘Did you get a good price for the pearls? Would you like some tea?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  She was wearing her red dress. The yellow flower he had given her was pinned to her breast.

  ‘Where’s everybody?’

  ‘They’re all asleep. I wanted to talk to you.’

  He waited, smiling.

  ‘We want to leave.’

  He was astonished and dismayed. ‘I thought you were happy here.’

  ‘That’s why.’

  ‘I don’t understand, Effie.’

  She spoke with quiet passion. ‘We’ve been attacked by dogs, and bitten. We’ve had our tents set on fire. We’ve had stones thrown at us, and we’ve been called trash, but it’s you, Gavin Hamilton, who’s done us the most harm.’

  ‘In what way, Effie?’

  ‘You’ve made it impossible for us, for me anyway, to go back to our old ways.’

  He had been so pleased with himself, so democratic and Christian, that he hadn’t considered the effect his generosity would have on them.

  ‘I think I would like tea after all … There’s something else I want to say. Those men at the hut, they were all thinking they could have me if they wanted. For half a crown.’

  ‘Not all of them, Effie.’

  ‘I don’t care whether you believe me or not, it’s not important, but no man has ever had me.’

  ‘I do believe you, Effie.’

  And so he did. She might live in squalor, she might be miserably poor, but she had kept her self-respect.

  He had thought her remarkable before. Now he was learning just how remarkable she was.

  ‘But I thought, Effie, you didn’t want to go back to your old ways.’

  ‘I don’t, but what else can I do?’

  ‘I don’t want you to leave, Effie.’

  He was in danger of giving promises he would never be able to keep.

  ‘If we stay for a little while, we’ll keep out of your way.’

  The tea was ready. He poured it out.

  ‘I had a talk with Mr Rutherford, the undertaker, about burial at the Big Stone.’

  ‘What did he say? Does he think it will be allowed?’

  ‘He’s going to make enquiries.’

  ‘Did he say how much it would cost?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I could borrow from Daniel.’

  ‘Who is this Daniel, Effie?’

  ‘His name’s Daniel Stewart. He’s known me all my life. He used to be a pearl-fisher but he’s got a business now. He’s quite well off for a traveller. He wants to marry me.’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘About fifty.’

  ‘You can’t marry a man as old as that. Do you love him?’

  ‘No, I don’t. When Grandfather dies there will be no man in the family. I’ve been told the children might be taken from me and put in a home. I would do anything to prevent that. Daniel’s promised that if we were married he’d let the children live with us.’

  ‘Would he keep his promise?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘So you could find yourself married to a man thirty years older than you, whom you don’t love, and yet still have the children taken from you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  And he had asked what was troubling her. Effie was overwhelmed by trouble.<
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  ‘If we stay here, for a little while longer, until after the funeral, we’ll keep out of your way.’

  ‘If that’s what you want, Effie.’

  He was tempted to say that he didn’t want her to keep out of his way, but she was right, they must keep a safe distance between them.

  Eleven

  HE WAS in the small room downstairs that he called his study, when there was a knock on the door, two knocks, the second one more like a bang.

  It was Morag and Eddie, she shy, he cocky. He had done the banging. He now did the talking.

  ‘Effie says can we have the kitchen. We’re going to eat.’

  ‘Tell her she can have the kitchen for as long as she likes. Tell her too there are some things in the fridge that I brought for you.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘For you all.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Strawberry tarts.’

  ‘Oh good, I like strawberry tarts.’

  He rushed off. He did not use the main staircase, though it was closer. He had been given his instructions.

  ‘He’s not got very good manners,’ said Morag, earnestly. ‘He’s just excited. I want to tell you, Mr Hamilton, that it wasn’t Effie’s fault that we weren’t at the cinema to meet you. It was mine. I was too tired. Effie’s going to take us to the pictures next Saturday. It’s her birthday. She’ll be twenty.’

  He kept forgetting that Effie was so young.

  Evidently he wasn’t going to be included in the visit to the cinema.

  ‘After we eat we’re going to have a wee ceilidh. Effie’s going to play her accordion. It’s a very old one but she’s a good player and she’s never even had a lesson.’

  ‘What are you going to do at the ceilidh?’

  ‘I do a Highland dance.’

  ‘I would like to see that.’

  She didn’t notice the hint.

  ‘Did you have a nice time shopping?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. Effie bought a new outfit. For the funeral. It’s black. The lady in the shop said black suited her. So it does. She bought new underclothes too. She loves new underclothes.’

  ‘What about you? Did you buy anything?’

  ‘Yes. A dress. It’s blue. Effie says it goes with my eyes. But if you’ll excuse me, Mr Hamilton, I’d better go. Effie wants me to help her in the kitchen.’

  He himself would have liked to go and help Effie in the kitchen.

  He waited, in vain, for a belated invitation to Effie’s birthday.

  Later, he heard the accordion. He wasn’t surprised that Effie preferred sad Gaelic airs. Once she sang, a lament, in Gaelic. He stood at the foot of the stairs, listening, moved to tears.

  Twelve

  MRS WILLIAMSON spent most of her time at the bedroom window, looking out for Daniel’s motor caravan.

  She must have a serious talk with Effie before he came.

  So, after the children were asleep, she crept into Effie’s room and found her, for the third time at least, trying on her new clothes.

  Mrs Williamson ought to have been proud to have so beautiful and so superior a daughter, and so she would have been, if Effie hadn’t been a rival whom Daniel would be sure to prefer.

  It was true Effie didn’t want him, but her aversion could be overcome if he could convince her that, when they were married, she could have Morag and Eddie to live with them. He had made promises but she did not think he would keep them. He might accept Morag, to begin with anyway, but he would refuse to take Eddie, for whom he had never shown any affection.

  ‘It’s Daniel, Effie. If he’s going to marry one of us it ought to be me but I don’t want to stand in your way. You did tell him you would think about it.’

  Yes, there had been times when Effie had resolutely imagined Daniel doing to her what husbands did to wives. But that was long before she had met Gavin Hamilton.

  ‘I don’t want to marry him. I’ve made up my mind.’

  ‘What about the children? Are you prepared to risk losing them?’

  Effie stared at herself in the looking-glass. She saw a traitress, appropriately dressed in black, willing to sacrifice people she loved to save herself.

  ‘Yes. Whatever happens I won’t marry him. He should have married you years ago.’

  ‘You won’t mind then if I go off with him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s settled then.’

  Mrs Williamson got up and went over to the door, very quietly so as not to disturb Morag who was asleep.

  ‘Effie?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘About you and Hamilton. I’m curious.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s taken a liking to you and you to him. Don’t deny it.’

  ‘He doesn’t like me. He’s just sorry for me.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right. But if it was me in your place I wouldn’t be sleeping up here with my little sister. I’d be sleeping downstairs with him. But then I’ve always been more generous about loving than you. I never was one for keeping myself pure for the man I would marry. Hamilton will never marry you, pet, he’ll marry some lady-body that’s been to college, but you and him could have some happy times together. Well, good-night.’

  Effie watched her mother leave in the looking-glass.

  Thirteen

  HE HAD said that he would be leaving the house early on Sunday. He had to pick up two elderly ladies and take them to the church. They lived twenty miles away up a remote glen.

  Effie lay in bed, listening for the car and thinking about what her mother had said about her and Gavin. She had fallen asleep thinking about it.

  He might not be in love with her but he was certainly attracted to her. She might not worship the ground he walked on but she felt very grateful to him, which was next door to loving him. Why then should she conspire to avoid him? He did not seem so intent on avoiding her. They would not sleep together; that, if it ever happened at all would be in the future, after they were married or at least engaged. Her mother had said that marriage was impossible, he would marry a lady-body who had been to college. But Effie in her new outfit could pass for a lady-body, and a teacher had once told her that she was clever enough to have gone to college, had things been different. She knew she had qualities that, if cultivated, would make her a wife fit for any man, even for a minister. All she needed was a little help and encouragement.

  She had once before escaped the travelling life. When she was seventeen she had run away and found a job in Inverness looking after a doctor’s four children. She had done it well. They had been very pleased with her. Their friends were amazed when told she had been a traveller. Then she had met a young man, studying to be a teacher. His name was Donald Robertson. They had gone out together several times before his mother had found out and forbade him to see her any more. She had been greatly disappointed. She remembered weeping inconsolably. But what had forced her back to the travelling life was her concern for Morag and Eddie. She had heard that they were being badly neglected and were in danger of being taken into care. She had had to go back for them.

  It could be different this time. She had been too young then. Gavin was a good bit older than Donald and had no mother to give him orders; indeed, he seemed to have no family at all. Above all he was genuinely fond of Morag and Eddie, and they of him. Donald hadn’t known that they existed.

  By nature she was not afraid to take risks, so why was she keeping out of his way when with a little boldness on her part they could be enjoying each other’s company?

  He would become a minister in four years. In half that time she could learn to be a minister’s wife. In the meantime she would meet his friends and hold her head high.

  In the end she might not succeed. They would go their separate ways and never see each other again. But she could have improved herself so much that she might meet some other good man who would marry her and adopt Morag and Eddie as his own.

  She heard the car. Quickly she got out of bed and r
an across to the window to catch a glimpse of it before it disappeared among the trees.

  She hurried back to bed, happier and more confident than she had felt for a long time.

  Morag was still half asleep. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

  Effie tickled her. ‘Nothing’s the matter. Nothing in the world. Everything’s fine. Everything’s wonderful.’

  Morag was delighted. Effie was once again the big sister who joked with them and made them laugh, no longer the worried guardian who scolded them.

  ‘It’s going to be a lovely day,’ said Effie. ‘We’ll go and build sandcastles.’

  ‘Will we be allowed, Effie?’

  ‘Who’s going to stop us?’

  Eddie, the forager, had found in a cupboard buckets and spades and a big football.

  After a shower, her sixth she thought but she had lost count, she put on her red dress and went downstairs to the kitchen, where the first thing she did was put on an apron, Gavin’s, and the second thing was to notice a sheet of paper on the table, with writing on it.

  She was sure it hadn’t been there last night. It must be a message from Gavin.

  She was afraid that she might not be able to understand it. She could read print well enough, but she had little experience of reading scribbled longhand. She was also afraid that it might be to tell her that he wanted them all out of his house by the time he came home.

  Morag came into the kitchen. She saw the sheet of paper in Effie’s hand.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked, cheerfully.

  ‘I think it’s a message from Gavin.’

  ‘What does it say?’

  ‘I haven’t read it yet.’

  ‘Read it now.’

  ‘You read it.’

  Morag took the paper and carefully deciphered it.

  ‘“Won’t be home till three. Remember the McTeagues are visiting you this afternoon.”’

  ‘Does it really say visiting us?’

  ‘Yes. Who are the McTeagues?’

  ‘Mr McTeague is the head man in the forest.’

  ‘I thought Mr Hamilton was the head man.’

  ‘He’s not really a forestry worker. He’s going to be a minister.’