Catherine of Deepdale Read online

  The door opened and Daa came in with Robbie. Daa was smiling. ‘I’m thinkin it’ll be a long while before you take this one south again. “There’s no ewes,” he said, “and muckle big houses and water at comes from nowhere and goes away the same and we rode on a bus wi’ an upstairs.”’

  ‘I don’t think he liked it much.’ Catherine laughed. ‘Now, Robbie, were the ewes all right?’

  ‘Yeh, they’re good.’

  ‘Thank you for looking at them. It’s time to go home, so say goodnight.’

  Catherine found it strange to walk past Kay’s house, to see the door shut and know there was no one at home, no one to look after Robbie when she went to work. She wondered if she ought to give up her job and said as much to Jannie.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ said Jannie. ‘I would have him.’

  ‘You would? But you have your work to do,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Ay, but it’s not all day and he would be wi his grandpa when he’s home.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Catherine and agreed that Robbie could stay with her.

  Mina came out of her house as Catherine was passing by. ‘What are you going to do with Robbie when you go to your work?’ she asked.

  ‘Well … Jannie’s just offered to have him,’ said Catherine.

  ‘We would like to look after him for you,’ said Mina.

  ‘Oh.’ What was she going to do now? Who was she most likely to offend? ‘Um … I think you’d better see Jannie and sort it out between you. Just let me know where I have to leave him.’

  ‘We could do that.’ Mina nodded went in and shut the door.

  Strange woman, thought Catherine; never in a million years would she have said Mina would volunteer to look after a child. Laura, yes, Laura exuded happiness and an air of mischief. Robbie would be bound to have fun with her.

  From then on Robbie didn’t spend much time with his mother; much of it was spent with the aunts or Jannie and always with his grandfather at weekends. Daa came along to call for him if he was taking the pony cart and going to check on sheep or mend fences. He needed the boy to hold the bucket of nails or the bottle of worm drench, he said, and Robbie would rush to find his boots and be off. Catherine heard him chatting away to Daa as he was swung up into the cart and, happy for him, closed the door and got on with her work.

  She often thought of Kay, keenly felt her loss and wondered how the coming Christmas was going to be without her and her driftwood Christmas tree. Another bauble for the branch had been an easy stocking-present to buy.

  Norrie moved in to the valley at the beginning of December. One day he wasn’t there and the next he was.

  ‘You should have told me you were coming,’ said Catherine when she saw him. ‘I would have lit your fire to welcome you.’

  Norrie laughed. ‘Darlin’, you light my fire every time I see you.’

  Catherine blushed. ‘Oh, Norrie,’ she chided, ‘I shall have to get you a house-warming present now. Is there anything you need?’

  The grin on Norrie’s face stretched from ear to ear and, realizing how he was going to interpret what she’d said, she blushed. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said.

  ‘Ay, you already know the answer to that, but you owe me an answer to a question I asked a while ago.’

  ‘And what might that have been?’

  ‘You know fine what it was.’

  ‘I’d not object if you came calling again, if that’s what you mean?’

  ‘You know it was not that. I asked if you would be mine.’

  ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ said Catherine.

  ‘But not too long,’ said Norrie.

  Thoughts of Norrie frequently filled Catherine’s mind. It was absurd to feel so happy because he teased her, absurd that her heart pounded when he was close, silly that he made her blush. With Christmas so near she wondered if she should invite him to share Christmas dinner with her and Robbie. In the week before Christmas she said, ‘Come on, let’s see if we can find a piece of driftwood for a Christmas tree like Kay’s.’ They searched the beach, went every day, but no driftwood came ashore so she said they’d have to do without.

  ‘I wanted a tree,’ said Robbie as she was putting him to bed.

  ‘So did I, but we’ve got paper chains. We’ll find something next year.’

  That night, as she put the presents she had bought for Robbie into a stocking to hang on the end of his bed, she thought again about Norrie and whether she really ought to ask him to come to dinner. But then the thought of Jannie and the way she had scowled when she thought she was meeting him on the moor made her think again. What would Jannie do if she thought they were together without Kay as chaperone? But, come on: Jannie wasn’t her keeper; it was nothing to do with her. She looked at the clock; it wasn’t too late to go to Norrie and ask him. She put on her coat, picked up a torch and let herself out. Head down against the wind, she walked in the pool of light in front of her.

  ‘And where do you think you’re going?’

  Jumping back in fright Catherine raised her torch to see Norrie’s burly form. ‘I was just coming to see you.’

  ‘And I was coming to see you. Well, which way do you want to go?’

  ‘No need to go anywhere. I was going to ask if you’d like to have your Christmas dinner with me and Robbie,’ said Catherine.

  ‘You’ve left it late.’

  ‘I know. Will you come?’

  ‘I was just going to ask you to have dinner wi’ me. Now we shall have to toss for it and I don’t have any money.’ He was grinning at her.

  ‘And I suppose that means you want to use my money. Well, forget it; you’re going to have dinner with us. I can cook, but I’m not sure about you.’

  ‘Ay well. By, you’re a bonnie lass. I’ll see you in the morning then.’

  ‘Mam, there’s somethin’ in my sock and I can’t see what it is.’

  Catherine pulled herself into consciousness, reached for matches and the candle. Robbie had his Christmas stocking with him; he began to empty it on her bed. Wanting to go back to sleep she said ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ as each small present was pulled out and examined. At last the sock was empty and Robbie, clutching a woolly toy sheep, snuggled down beside her. She blew out the candle.

  At eight Catherine knew, even though it was still dark, that it was time to rise. Hoping Robbie would sleep on she crept out of bed, picked up her clothes and took them to the warmth of the kitchen to dress. She had prepared everything for their dinner the night before. With no animals to see to there was no outside work to do. Daa would walk round the sheep, Noble was off his tether and in a park with the ewes, and she had no chickens of her own to feed. She put porridge on the stove to cook, then laid the table. Robbie, sleepy-eyed and still clutching his woolly sheep came trailing through from the bedroom. She washed and dressed him and they ate breakfast. Table cleared and dishes washed, Robbie lay on the mat in front of the fire, looking at a book.

  Catherine went through to the bedroom to wash and change into something more festive than her everyday clothes. It was the one special day of the year and she wanted to look nice. She put on one of the dresses her mother had given her, brushed her hair and put on some makeup. Janet had given her a small bottle of perfume. ‘Make the most of yourself, sis,’ she had said. Catherine took it out of the drawer where she kept it and dabbed some on her wrists and throat.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ said Robbie when she went back to the kitchen.

  ‘It’s perfume. Your auntie Janet gave it to me,’ said Catherine as she put an apron on over her dress, but Robbie’s attention had switched back to his book.

  The meat, a joint of beef bought from a butcher in Lerwick, was roasting nicely when Norrie arrived. He gave some parcels to Catherine and asked her to clear a space on the press. ‘I have something else,’ he said. When he came back he kicked the door gently with the toe of his boot.

  ‘I couldn’t knock,’ he said, when Catherine opened it. ‘As yo
u see I have me hands full.’ He was carrying Kay’s Christmas tree complete with baubles. ‘I ken she wouldn’t think it was Christmas without it,’ he said.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ cried Catherine, ‘Come and look, Robbie. Norrie’s brought Kay’s Christmas tree. Isn’t that lovely?’

  The tree was set up, presents wrapped in brown paper tied with coloured string put beside it. ‘Thank you, Norrie,’ said Catherine. ‘Wait, I think I have just the thing for it.’ She went to her bedroom and came back with a small parcel. ‘This is going to be hung on the tree,’ she said, taking a little glass angel from the paper, ‘in memory of Kay. Not that I could ever forget her.’

  ‘You really did care for her, didn’t you?’

  ‘She was my friend; I don’t know what I’d have done without her. Now let’s get on. We’ll open the presents after we’ve eaten. Dinner’s not ready yet, so would you like a dram?’

  ‘That would be good,’ said Norrie. ‘You’re looking pretty, and,’ he sniffed, ‘smellin good too … or would that be the meat?’

  ‘You will be putting your life in jeopardy, Norrie Williams, if you go on like that.’ Catherine sounded serious, but as she turned away she was smiling.

  After they had eaten the dinner Catherine had cooked for them they opened the presents. From Southampton there were toys for Robbie and silky underwear for Catherine. She gave Norrie a pocket knife while he gave her a fancy glass bowl. Norrie gave Robbie a small boy-sized staff with a carved handle. ‘When you start your flock, you’re going to need that,’ he said. Then he picked up his fiddle, and with an ease born of long practice began to play. Tea time came and went and when Robbie’s head began to droop Catherine put him to bed.

  Sitting opposite Norrie, Catherine gazed at the fire glowing between the bars. Norrie continued to play softly, and she sighed. This was what Christmas should be like, family coming together for a meal to exchange presents and be together. Norrie was not part of her family, but just now it seemed as though he was or … could very well be.

  ‘Catherine,’ said Norrie, putting down his fiddle, ‘I can’t go on like this, you know I’ve lost me heart to you. I want you for me wife. Will you marry me?’

  ‘Norrie!’

  He stared at her. ‘Oh, blast thee English ways, just say yes you will.’

  ‘Norrie … I … I … ‘

  ‘There you go again.’ Norrie was out of his chair and on his knees. ‘Don’t be so stuffy, lass. I know you like me, why can’t you admit it?’

  ‘Of course I like you, quite a lot in fact, but … ‘

  ‘But what? Are you thinking you’re being disloyal to your man?’

  ‘Well …’ she turned her head, wanting not to look at him.

  ‘Would you have wanted him to be happy if you had gone?’

  ‘Yes, of course I would.’

  ‘Well then … ‘

  Catherine looked directly at Norrie, looked deep into his eyes, let seconds tick by. ‘If I said yes,’ she said, ‘would you wait for me?’

  ‘Lass, I’d wait for you for ever, only dinna make it that long.’

  ‘All right then,’ she said, ‘I will marry you.’

  Norrie got to his feet and pulled her out of her chair. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her long and hard.

  TWENTY NINE

  IT WAS NEW YEAR’S EVE, nearing midnight, and soon Norrie would be coming through her door, her first foot of the year. Catherine put whisky, some glasses and shortbread on the table and sat down to wait. She thought about the year just gone. She had lost Kay, the woman who had told her it would be an uphill battle with Jannie if she stayed, but still encouraged her to do so. Now she had Norrie. Her feelings for him had grown, but was it love? She enjoyed his company and looked forward to being with him, but were they reasons enough to marry him? Was she looking on him as the shield that Kay had been, looking for a father for Robbie and comfort for herself, someone to help carry her load?

  The clock on the mantelpiece began to chime the hour. The last note had hardly died away when suddenly the door burst open. But it wasn’t Norrie who hugged her and swept her off her feet. It was Billie.

  ‘Billie,’ she cried, ‘oh Billie, how lovely it is to see you. When did you get home? Where have you been and why didn’t you tell us where you’d gone? We’ve all been so worried about you. Are you all right?’

  ‘You always did ask a lot of questions,’ said Billie as he set her down. ‘Let me look at you.’ He held her off at arm’s length. ‘You’re looking awful bonnie.’

  ‘Tell me what you’ve been up to,’ said Catherine. ‘I’m just dying to know.’

  ‘You have the whisky bottle out. Aren’t you going to offer me a dram?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I expect Norrie will be here soon.’

  ‘Ay, what’s this I hear?’ said Billie as Catherine poured whisky into a couple of glasses. ‘You and Norrie going together?

  ‘It’s not official,’ said Catherine, ‘but Norrie asked me to marry him. I said I would, but not yet.’

  ‘You couldn’t do better,’ said Billy. ‘I guess I always knew you’d finish up wi’ him.’ He laughed. ‘I was awful jealous of him once, you know. I loved you, and when you threw us out,’ he laughed again, ‘you broke my heart and that was why I ran away.’

  ‘You silly twit.’

  To the sound of their laughter Norrie came in. ‘Aaah,’ he sighed and, staggering back against the door, clapped a hand to his chest. ‘She promised to be mine and now I find her wi’ another. Ah, woe is me.’

  ‘Stop your fooling, Norrie, and come and sit down,’ said Catherine. ‘I expect you already knew Billie was here.’

  ‘Yeh, I did, but I thought you’d like to be alone wi’ him for a minute.’

  ‘That was nice of you. I guess you’ll take a dram?’

  ‘Yeh, but I brought this for you, seeing I’m always drinking yours.’ Norrie put a bottle on the table. ‘It’s a malt; better than that stuff you dish out.’

  ‘Norrie Williams!’ exclaimed Catherine. ‘I don’t like malt whisky so you drink yours and I’ll keep mine.’ She turned to Billie. ‘Do you see what I have to put up with? And now he’s come to live next door. I don’t know if I can stand it.’

  ‘Ah, you will,’ said Billie.

  They sat by the fire and talked about what had changed since Billie went away. They asked him what he’d been doing, how long he was planning to stay.

  ‘I’m only here for the holiday,’ he said, ‘I’ll be going back south.’

  ‘He’s got a girlfriend at last,’ said Norrie. ‘What’s she like, Billie?’

  ‘She’s me boss’s daughter. She’ll come up wi’ me next time I’m home.’

  ‘Is it serious?’ asked Catherine.

  Billie shrugged his shoulders. ‘Couldn’t say.’

  ‘Your boss must like you if he lets you court his daughter, but you’re having fun, eh lad?’ said Norrie.

  Billie grinned. Then said he had to go, that he had a lot of people to see. Norrie said he would go with him. ‘I’ll have to see him home safe,’ he said, ‘for he’s not going to be able to turn away the drams he’ll be gettin.’

  ‘And I guess neither will you,’ said Catherine.

  Spring, particularly the month of April when the next school term started, was the beginning of months of hard work. The Cheviots were due to have their lambs in April and when they were done the crossbreds would start. All through the summer Catherine would be kept busy. Not until the last potato had been lifted, the last sheaf of corn brought in and small animals housed would her work load ease. She consoled herself with the fact that it would be the same for many other croft wives.

  But it was still winter. Norrie sometimes took her and Robbie to a social evening at the village hall, or, leaving Robbie with the aunts, took her to a dance. Other times she would invite him to have dinner with them and sometimes when he wasn’t away playing with a band at a dance he would come along in the evening, bring his fiddle and pl
ay for her.

  Daa said it was only right she should be looking for someone to spend her life with, and if Norrie was the one she chose he had no trouble with that. Jannie glared at her but said nothing. When she went to collect Robbie from the aunts where he’d spent a morning Mina questioned her closely.

  ‘Is it right that you are going with that man?’

  ‘I think enough time has gone by for me to have another man as a friend.’

  ‘And what do you know about him? I’ve heard he has another woman.’

  ‘He does not; if he had I wouldn’t be with him.’

  ‘But think of your boy; he should have a good man for a father.’

  ‘And Norrie is a good man.’

  ‘Ay, maybe, but do you think it right you should be alone in the house with him?’ asked Mina. ‘It’s not the right thing to do.’

  Catherine put her hands on her hips and looked Mina square in the face. ‘Oh, Mina,’ she said, ‘chaperones went out with the Victorians; life has moved on. You can have as many suspicious thoughts as you like, but you can rest assured there is nothing going on for you to worry about.’ She shook her head. Mina sniffed and looked down her nose. ‘How else do you think we might meet?’ said Catherine. ‘We can hardly go walking in a gale, can we?’

  Laura came bustling in then. ‘Do you want any eggs?’ she asked. ‘The hens is no laying well, but we could let you have a few.’

  ‘I’m right out, so, yes please. I don’t have any money on me at the moment, but if you bring some along I’ll pay you for them then. Thank you for looking after Robbie for me. I’m very grateful to you. Say thank you to Auntie Mina,’ said Catherine as she helped him into his coat.

  ‘It’s no bother,’ said Mina.

  As they ran home through the rain, Catherine said, ‘What would you like for your lunch?’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ said Robbie.

  ‘What’s Laura been feeding you, then?’

  ‘I’m had bannocks and some tattie soup.’