Family Matters Read online

  The air in here was anything but sweetly scented, and more than once he had stood at the back of a cow as it raised its tail. Awful! It was the only thing that had made his father smile for days.

  He was thinking these gloomy thoughts during the afternoon milking when he heard the sliding doors open and his mother appeared, followed by Hope McIlroy. She was the very last person he expected to see here.

  ‘Hope has never seen cows being milked, so I thought I’d bring her along,’ said his mother happily. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it, that what is run of the mill for us is completely new for other people?’

  He was glad to see that she had cheered up. His latest row with his father, over the best use of the field by the river, had really upset her that morning. ‘I’ll leave Hope here with you; she can find her own way back when she’s seen enough.’

  Robbie smiled his understanding. His mother wasn’t too fond of the milking parlour herself.

  ‘Stay away from their back ends,’ said Robbie, as Hope made her way slowly down the centre of the parlour. He didn’t want her experiencing what happened when a cow raised its tail at an inopportune moment. He took her arm and brought her to stand beside him.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ said Hope, gazing around. She seemed genuinely interested. Robbie looked around the cavernous building, trying to see it through her eyes. There were the cows lined up on each side, one to a cubicle. They munched contentedly on their cake, each attached to an automatic milking unit. He found himself explaining how these worked, how the milk was carried from these directly to the bulk storage tank.

  Hope smiled at him. ‘It’s much more high tech than I expected.’

  ‘That’s Luke’s doing. My father is a bit set in his ways but when Luke took over the dairy side he updated all the equipment, even introduced a computer to calculate the amount of feed needed.’ At times Robbie wished his brother hadn’t been so keen on computerising everything. It meant he not only had to re-acquaint himself with the animals, but also had to learn how to use the blasted computer system.

  ‘We never really think about where milk comes from, do we?’ said Hope, still peering around.

  It seemed so strange to have her here, in her pretty skirt and sandals, amongst the animals and the strong farm smells. He was impressed that she didn’t seem at all troubled by them. He’d had one or two girlfriends who had run a mile if a cow so much as twitched its ears.

  ‘How’re you doing?’ he said. He had seen nothing of her for days. The farm seemed to have taken over his life.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Mr Jackson keeping all right?’

  ‘Not too bad. He is getting better, but it’s a slow process.’

  ‘And I bet he doesn’t always do what he’s told?’

  Hope gave a brief smile. ‘Not always.’

  Robbie could feel his whole day improving just from having her stand beside him and give that shy smile. He could do this. And it wouldn’t be forever, Luke would want to be back to work as soon as he possibly could.

  ‘Luke’s coming home tomorrow,’ he remembered.

  ‘Yes, your mother said. I came up to offer to help with the bridesmaids’ dresses.’

  ‘You did?’ said Robbie, confused. Why should Hope be helping out with dresses?

  ‘Yes. I’m not a professional dressmaker, of course, but she’s showed me the alterations that need doing and I think I can manage them.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’ Robbie had a hazy recollection of his mother and Clare in consternated discussion about the dresses. There had been so many ‘crises’ he tended to switch off when they were mentioned.

  ‘I’ll enjoy it,’ said Hope simply. ‘And it’s something I can do when I’m in the house with Mr Jackson. Which reminds me, I’d better get back. I just popped out whilst he was having his afternoon rest.’

  Robbie gave a quick glance around the cows, who all seemed fine, and decided he could leave them for a moment and walk back to the house with her. An idea had occurred to him.

  As soon as they were out in the relatively fresh air of the farm yard he said, ‘I wonder if you’d like to come to the wedding yourself? I mean, as my partner.’

  Hope let the long hair fall over her face for a moment, and when she pushed it back he saw she was blushing. ‘Your mum has already invited me, actually. She said it was the least she could do.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Robbie, feeling foolish. ‘Well, that’s good, if you’re going to be there. You’ll maybe save a dance for me?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I can go. It’s not easy for Mr Jackson to do even simple things like getting himself on and off the bed. I don’t like to leave him alone too long.’

  ‘But he’s getting better all the time.’ Robbie now felt it was essential she be there. ‘The wedding isn’t for another ten days, who knows how mobile he’ll be by then?’

  ‘I said to your mother I would think about it. I don’t want to cause her a problem with seating arrangements so I should probably just say no …’

  ‘Forget the seating arrangements!’ said Robbie, allowing his exasperation with the whole ridiculous palaver to show. ‘They’re not set in stone. Honestly, we can work something out, and it would be great if you could come.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, seeming surprised at his enthusiasm. He was rather surprised himself.

  ‘In fact, I’ve got an idea about Mr Jackson …’ But what the idea was he didn’t have the chance to explain just then. The cows were starting to get restless and he could hear them mooing and stamping the ground. The last thing he needed was for one of them to kick off the milk unit. ‘I’ll call round and explain later,’ he said, and slipped back through the door into the gloom.

  Hope found she was humming to herself as she made her way back to Kirkside. She went by way of the road, not trusting herself to climb safely over the fences on the river path. It was a beautiful walk whichever way you went and for the first time in a while she felt she had something to be happy about.

  She was now part of this little community. Everyone seemed to think she was doing a good job with Mr Jackson. Maria had been effusive in her thanks for the offer of help with the dresses. And best of all, Robbie had invited her to the wedding. OK, Maria had invited her too, which had been very kind, but it was Robbie’s invitation that had made her heart soar. It was silly, really, it was just a little thing, and she hadn’t even said yes, but the thought of it made her smile.

  And then, when she arrived back at Kirkside, she found a message asking her to phone Tommy Grainger and her mood plummeted. She wondered what he wanted now. Hadn’t everything been sorted out since she had paid the money?

  ‘The police have been in touch with me,’ said the accountant, after they had exchanged pleasantries.

  Hope was puzzled. ‘The police? Why?’ Had something else gone wrong?

  ‘As you know, we’ve been trying to trace Miss Amy Jones in connection with certain assets that have gone missing from the business.’

  ‘Ah. Yes.’ Hope had forgotten the police had been involved in that. ‘So … have they found her?’

  ‘Indeed they have. She had moved to London and seems to be living there with her boyfriend. Steven Parker? She has been using his name, which is why it hasn’t been easy to trace her.’

  Hope had only known Amy’s boyfriend by his first name, and had never liked him. She was almost certain things had started to go wrong with Amy when she came under the influence of this man.

  ‘I thought you would like to know,’ said Tommy, when Hope said nothing.

  ‘Yes. Thanks. I suppose that’s, er, good.’

  ‘It helps move things forward. I can now pursue her for any assets she has relating to the business.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Hope. She hated all this. ‘I thought that was all finished with.’

  ‘Strictly speaking it is, as you have made sure that no one but yourself is out of pocket.’ He still sounded disapproving. ‘So what you need to
consider is, do you want to try and pursue her for the losses she has caused you?’

  ‘Me?’ Hope didn’t like to think of taking her best friend – former best friend – to court. Her immediate reaction was to say no. Of course, she had been furious with Amy when the truth had first come out. But now she felt at least some of the blame had been hers. She shouldn’t have put so much temptation in her friend’s way.

  ‘You don’t need to decide now,’ said Tommy. ‘Think it over. You have a solicitor of your own, don’t you? Discuss it with him.’

  ‘OK, I will,’ said Hope, relieved not to have to make a decision right away.

  When the conversation ended, Hope’s thoughts were in disarray. Amy had run away to start a new life in London and left Hope alone to deal with the collapse of the business. She shivered as she remembered confrontations with angry creditors, the horror of explaining what had happened to regular customers, the pain of seeing the shop denuded.

  She had been so preoccupied with other things since arriving at St Ann’s Bridge she had hardly thought of all this. Especially since the revelations about her mother. Perhaps she should be grateful to Susie for that, at least.

  On the Saturday after Luke’s return, Robbie escaped from the lovey-dovey atmosphere of his brother and fiancée in the house. He went to check on one of the cows who had mastitis – which was all Robbie’s fault, according to his father. And it was just his bad luck to find his father as he took a detour through the lower field. Probably checking up on him.

  ‘I see you’re putting yourself out to help, as usual,’ he said, his ruddy face grim.

  ‘I’ve just checked on the mastitic cow, and re-hung the bottom gate that hasn’t work properly for years,’ said Robbie. ‘I call that pretty useful.’

  ‘The gate was fine,’ said his father. ‘It just needed a bit of extra muscle.’

  Robbie shrugged. He knew the gate had been annoying Luke for months and he was pleased to have fixed it. He noticed his father couldn’t even bring himself to mention the cow. He was furious about anything that kept milk yields down.

  ‘Your mother was looking for you,’ said his father. ‘I don’t think you boys realise what a lot of work you create for her, having you both at home, her never knowing whether you’re coming or going.’

  ‘Luke won’t be living at home much longer,’ said Robbie, wishing his father would move so he could start walking back to the house.

  ‘And then there’s the wedding. Your mother is driving herself distracted, but I don’t see you lifting a finger to help out.’

  This was really a bit much, coming from the father of the groom who, as far as Robbie could tell, had so far done absolutely nothing.

  ‘At least I arranged the stag weekend,’ he said.

  ‘Aye, and we all know what a success that was. Why on earth did you have to go off to the back of beyond?’

  Robbie was about to repeat that it was because that was what Luke had wanted, but managed to hold his tongue. That weekend was still an all-too-bitter memory. Luke breaking his leg had been bad, but it could have been so much worse.

  ‘And I’ve arranged the band for the reception,’ he said, pleased to think of something else. He was rather proud of this. The band Abhainn were one of the most popular ceilidh bands in the area. They had initially turned down the request to perform from Clare’s mother, saying they already had two gigs that weekend and didn’t fancy a third. But Robbie knew the band leader from school, and he’d talked them in to it. He’d explained what a real community event this was going to be and how having the best band there would really top things off. The members of Abhainn, like most people, were susceptible to flattery.

  They’d agreed to come along and Sam, the leader, had even suggested Robbie bring his own fiddle and join them in a couple of songs. That was flattery of an entirely different kind. Robbie hadn’t played in public in ages. He was tempted, all the same.

  ‘Let’s hope nothing goes wrong with that, then,’ said his father sourly, bringing Robbie back to the present with a bang. ‘The way this wedding is going I’ll be surprised if it doesn’t.’

  ‘Don’t you want it all to go well?’

  His dad pretended to be hurt. ‘Of course I do. That’s why I’m worrying about all the difficulties. Someone’s got to sort them out, and it’s not likely to be you, is it?’

  This time Robbie didn’t wait for his father to move. He strode round him and headed off up the slope, not caring whether he was followed or not. No matter what he did, his father would always find the negative side.

  Chapter Twelve

  On the day of Luke and Claire’s marriage, Hope awoke to a beautiful early autumn morning. She drew her curtains and leant on the windowsill. The sun shone brightly on the dew-laden garden, with pools of white mist drifting in the hollows. Towards the river, the mist was thicker, but with sun this bright it was likely to clear later. A perfect day for a wedding.

  And Hope was going to be there. Robbie had come up with the ideal solution to Mr Jackson: they would simply arrange for the old man to come along too. Of course, he had always been invited, but everyone assumed he wasn’t well enough to attend. Robbie had popped around a couple of days after he had invited Hope to be his guest, to explain his idea. He had wanted to know whether Mr Jackson would actually like to be there.

  The answer had been yes. If Robbie could arrange transport, he would love to go. He hadn’t said so, of course. He had said, ‘Aye, I wouldnae mind a wee jaunt, like.’ But Hope knew him well enough now to interpret this.

  Mr Jackson would attend both the ceremony in the kirk and the reception in the village hall. He could stay as long as he wanted. When he had had enough, Robbie had promised to take him home. ‘And the lass can stay on,’ Mr Jackson said firmly. ‘I don’t want her evening spoilt because of me.’

  Once all this was organised, Hope and Mr Jackson had spent a happy few days discussing who would be there and what they should each wear. Mr Jackson’s best suit, not worn for years, had been sent to the cleaners, and Hope had decided to make a brand new dress for herself. After the success of Megan’s little frock and the simple but much-appreciated alterations to the bridesmaids’ dresses, her interest in sewing had been reawakened.

  She decided to use a piece of pale turquoise silk and was tempted into trying a completely new style. This material didn’t lend itself to a long floaty skirt. It needed to be fitted, and so she had created a long sheath of a dress, high-necked and short sleeved, with a split up the back to allow her to walk. With a little cream jacket she already owned and a new hat she had found in a department store in Dumfries, she felt she was going to look very smart indeed. She just hoped she hadn’t overdone it.

  Things were frantic in the Mackenzie household. Robbie and his father tried to hurry through all the normal chores so as to be free by lunchtime. The afternoon milking had been trusted, much against his father’s judgement, to a friend of a friend from near Lockerbie. The problem with a big wedding like this was that everyone they knew was going to be there. Robbie just hoped this man turned out to be reliable. If not, he knew who would be to blame.

  Once the farm business was out of the way there was the question of getting kitted out in their finery and off to the church on time. Luke was still using crutches and needed help to get dressed. This task fell, of course, to Robbie.

  ‘Lucky you’re wearing a kilt and not a dress suit or you’d never be able to get in to it,’ he said as he untangled his brother’s sporran.

  ‘I’m going to look like a total eejit with one leg in plaster,’ said Luke gloomily.

  ‘Get the photographer to take pictures from the waist up,’ suggested Robbie, trying to decide which of the two sgian dubhs was his.

  ‘Clare will never agree to that,’ said Luke sourly, as though it had been a serious suggestion. He was clearly not in the mood to be cheered up.

  Robbie decided to put it down to pre-wedding nerves. He passed his hip-flask to his brother. ‘Ha
ve a sip of that. It’s a ten-year-old whisky, just what a Scottish groom needs before his big moment.’

  ‘But I don’t like whisky,’ said Luke. At a look from his brother he took a too-big mouthful and began to cough. At least that stopped him complaining for a while.

  Once they arrived at the church, things improved. With Robbie’s help Luke managed to limp to the front pew. Robbie checked he had the rings, and then felt he could finally relax. If anything went wrong now, it couldn’t be his fault.

  The ceremony was beautiful. He hadn’t expected it to be. The rehearsal had been rushed and bad-tempered, like much of the past couple of weeks. But once the wedding march started and they turned to see Clare advancing towards them, all those worries fell away.

  She was a pretty enough girl, but today she looked radiant. Robbie watched his brother’s smile grow wider and wider as she approached and wondered what it would feel like to be Luke. To be so sure you wanted to stay with one person for ever, to be so happy to see them walking slowly towards you.

  The whole thing seemed to take a matter of minutes. Neither bride nor groom fluffed their lines and Robbie was on hand to prop up his brother when he turned a little too quickly and almost fell. The walk back down the aisle, with Luke using crutches, wasn’t quite as picturesque as it might have been, but nobody seemed to mind.

  Everywhere you looked there were smiles, hugs, calls of congratulation. It seemed as though everyone from miles around was there (and they probably were), all of them delighted for Luke and Clare.

  Hope was enjoying herself more than she had in months. She had decided not to rush into any decision about what action, if any, she should take regarding Amy. She had puzzled over it on and off for days and come to no conclusion. Another weekend wouldn’t make any difference. And she felt happy here among these people. She was sure it was nothing to do with family connection to the village or all the nonsense that Susie Ashbury might want to think, it was simply that everyone was so friendly and welcoming.