He’s made it plain there’s no place for me up at Willowburn. He would like to get the tenancy in his name.’
‘ The laird will never agree to that! What does your father say?’
‘ Father doesn’t seem able to cope with him. He always hated arguments.’
‘ He always gave Fred too much of his own way,’ John Oliphant said, ‘even when he was a laddie. Nobody can make up for him losing his mother. It was God’s will and he couldn’t have had a finer mother than yours.’
‘ I – er… I blotted my copy book.’ Steven looked up almost defiantly. His gaze met Megan’s. ‘I punched Fred in the face, gave him a split lip. It upset Dad.’
‘ It would. You were always such a calm laddie. What happened?’
‘ Fred meant to butt me in the stomach, as he used to do at school. I stepped out of the way in time and he sprawled in the dust.’ He saw laughter spring to Megan’s bright eyes and knew she didn’t hold his brawling against him. He glanced warily at her father. He had clapped a hand to his mouth trying to stifle a roar of laughter.
‘ I’d loved to have seen it,’ he gasped. ‘Fred’s had that coming to him for a long time.’
‘ He has that, big bully that he was with you and Sam,’ Mrs Oliphant said. ‘Don’t worry about it, your pa will get over it. He’s lucky you’ve waited so long to stand up to Fred. Now you eat up. I’ll fill up your tea.’
‘ When have you to go back?’ Megan asked.
‘ Tomorrow night. To be honest I wondered if I could cadge a bed for tonight. I don’t want…’
‘ Of course ye can have a bed, laddie,’ Mrs Oliphant assured him.
‘ Ye’re more than welcome, lad. I’d enjoy a proper chat with ye.’
‘ Yes, I know,’ Steven nodded. John Oliphant would want to know how his only son had died. Well he could tell him truthfully; Sam had never lacked courage and he had died bravely like the man he was. Those few last whimpers and his own tears were between him and Sam and God above, though he had wondered if there was a God as he and Sam lay side by waiting for darkness to fall.
‘ Can I lend a hand with the milking?’ he asked. ‘I’ll need to keep in practise.’
‘ You certainly can laddie,’ Chrissie Oliphant chuckled. ‘I’ll find you some of John’s clothes to change into. They might be a bit short in the arms and legs. I can’t believe what a fine figure of a man you are these days.’ She found him a pair of wellingtons.
‘ We’ll give you a rest from the milking tonight, Mum, if Steven will carry the milk instead of me?’ Megan grinned up at him. ‘That’s a harder job than milking the cows but it’s my job until I go to college in the autumn. It saves us having a boy living in and Dad pays me the wages instead. It will help with my expenses for books and things.’
‘ I don’t mind carrying the milk to the dairy.’ He looked down into her upturned face and chuckled. ‘At least I shall manage to pour the milk over the cooler. However do you reach it?’
‘ Dad fixed me up with a wooden trestle to stand on.’
‘ I should think it’s still hard work lifting buckets of milk up to the pan?’
‘ I’m tougher than I look.’ She tossed her head and her eyes sparkled.
‘ You’re not much taller than when I went away, not like Natalie Turner. I didn’t recognised her.’
‘ You’ve seen Natalie?’
‘ Yes, she was riding on the tractor with her father. She had her hair in a roll. You’ve cut your hair, Megan.’
‘ I couldn’t keep schoolgirl pleats for ever.’
‘ No I suppose not. It suits you anyway the way it curls round your face and onto your shoulders, but I shall miss not having those long pleats to tug.’ He grinned then sobered. ‘You should have sent me a photograph.’
‘ I pin it up in a bun under a hat when I’m in the byre.’ She pulled a face at him. ‘Like Granny McKnight used to do? Do you remember?’
‘ Yes I do. That was before Mr Turner installed the milking machine. I
‘ The laird will never agree to that! What does your father say?’
‘ Father doesn’t seem able to cope with him. He always hated arguments.’
‘ He always gave Fred too much of his own way,’ John Oliphant said, ‘even when he was a laddie. Nobody can make up for him losing his mother. It was God’s will and he couldn’t have had a finer mother than yours.’
‘ I – er… I blotted my copy book.’ Steven looked up almost defiantly. His gaze met Megan’s. ‘I punched Fred in the face, gave him a split lip. It upset Dad.’
‘ It would. You were always such a calm laddie. What happened?’
‘ Fred meant to butt me in the stomach, as he used to do at school. I stepped out of the way in time and he sprawled in the dust.’ He saw laughter spring to Megan’s bright eyes and knew she didn’t hold his brawling against him. He glanced warily at her father. He had clapped a hand to his mouth trying to stifle a roar of laughter.
‘ I’d loved to have seen it,’ he gasped. ‘Fred’s had that coming to him for a long time.’
‘ He has that, big bully that he was with you and Sam,’ Mrs Oliphant said. ‘Don’t worry about it, your pa will get over it. He’s lucky you’ve waited so long to stand up to Fred. Now you eat up. I’ll fill up your tea.’
‘ When have you to go back?’ Megan asked.
‘ Tomorrow night. To be honest I wondered if I could cadge a bed for tonight. I don’t want…’
‘ Of course ye can have a bed, laddie,’ Mrs Oliphant assured him.
‘ Ye’re more than welcome, lad. I’d enjoy a proper chat with ye.’
‘ Yes, I know,’ Steven nodded. John Oliphant would want to know how his only son had died. Well he could tell him truthfully; Sam had never lacked courage and he had died bravely like the man he was. Those few last whimpers and his own tears were between him and Sam and God above, though he had wondered if there was a God as he and Sam lay side by waiting for darkness to fall.
‘ Can I lend a hand with the milking?’ he asked. ‘I’ll need to keep in practise.’
‘ You certainly can laddie,’ Chrissie Oliphant chuckled. ‘I’ll find you some of John’s clothes to change into. They might be a bit short in the arms and legs. I can’t believe what a fine figure of a man you are these days.’ She found him a pair of wellingtons.
‘ We’ll give you a rest from the milking tonight, Mum, if Steven will carry the milk instead of me?’ Megan grinned up at him. ‘That’s a harder job than milking the cows but it’s my job until I go to college in the autumn. It saves us having a boy living in and Dad pays me the wages instead. It will help with my expenses for books and things.’
‘ I don’t mind carrying the milk to the dairy.’ He looked down into her upturned face and chuckled. ‘At least I shall manage to pour the milk over the cooler. However do you reach it?’
‘ Dad fixed me up with a wooden trestle to stand on.’
‘ I should think it’s still hard work lifting buckets of milk up to the pan?’
‘ I’m tougher than I look.’ She tossed her head and her eyes sparkled.
‘ You’re not much taller than when I went away, not like Natalie Turner. I didn’t recognised her.’
‘ You’ve seen Natalie?’
‘ Yes, she was riding on the tractor with her father. She had her hair in a roll. You’ve cut your hair, Megan.’
‘ I couldn’t keep schoolgirl pleats for ever.’
‘ No I suppose not. It suits you anyway the way it curls round your face and onto your shoulders, but I shall miss not having those long pleats to tug.’ He grinned then sobered. ‘You should have sent me a photograph.’
‘ I pin it up in a bun under a hat when I’m in the byre.’ She pulled a face at him. ‘Like Granny McKnight used to do? Do you remember?’
‘ Yes I do. That was before Mr Turner installed the milking machine. I
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