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Authors: Alanna Knight
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awaiting his owner emerging from the kirk.
Vince laughed. ‘That’s Biddy, she’s the minister’s dog. She has to be patient. Did you enjoy the service, Rose?’ he asked anxiously.
‘It was quite an experience.’ I stifled a yawn. ‘A rather long sermon.’
He laughed again. ‘Pity Biddy isn’t like the collie of a former minister. Rev. Anderson’s dog was famous as a regular follower of the Sunday service. He followed him up to the pulpit steps and lay quietly on the top step during the sermon, or quietly at least until he decided that time was up and further eloquence unnecessary. He would then stand up, stretch himself and yawn – just like you wanted to do, Rose – I saw that! Anyway, when the Queen came to morning service, Rev. Anderson left the dog at home but she had heard of the collie’s habits. Someone had made a sketch of the pulpit with him lying there and she suggested that the minister’s dog must certainly not be excluded for her sake. Although she claimed to be a ready absorber of sermons, especially of Scottish ones, she may have valued the dog’s services as timekeeper.’
I was looking round for Lily so that she could come back with us in the motor car. And there she was, head down, talking animatedly to a man, a tall man, wearing a bonnet.
‘Look, Uncle Vince, Lily’s made friends at last,’ said Meg.
‘A dark horse, indeed,’ Vince laughed. ‘It is a well-known condition among young females who never have a word to say to their own kind that they prefer to save their sparkles for gentlemen. Ah, here’s our car at last.’
As it came alongside it momentarily blocked our view but as the man turned I thought I recognised him as the passenger racing along the station platform in Edinburgh and with those alighting from the royal train at Ballater. Then again, among the gipsies when we were held up en route by the sheep. He seemed to be everywhere. Who on earth was he, this man who reminded me of Danny? And what was his connection with Balmoral Castle?
And more intriguing was the animation of the normally speechless Lily. I decided I must tactfully raise the subject with Mabel when we got back to the cottage but no opportune moment occurred that day.
Then, next morning, not only the hoped-for postcard from Jack, but the totally unexpected arrival of Vince rushing in clutching a telegram. His smile, radiant as the sun that had deigned to reward us with an appearance, put our fears at rest.
‘You’ll never guess! Livvy’s on her way with Faith. They’re arriving at Ballater this afternoon.’ He was almost jumping for joy and I knew how sad and concerned he had felt at their absence, how much he was missing Olivia, anxious about that frail wee daughter too, when he added:
‘Nothing serious with Faith after all, but you know how it is, how cautious one becomes.’ And to Mabel. ‘Livvy was so disappointed – felt she was letting you down missing this meeting after so many years.’
Now there was a great flutter of excitement at the prospect of the new arrivals. Mabel was cautiously pleased, Meg delighted that she was to see her new-found cousin, confident that they would be great friends and have such fun playing together. As for me, I was delighted at the prospect of being with Olivia again, since we had met far too rarely since I came back to Scotland; a conscientious mother, she was bound by children who she refused to leave in the care of servants so that she could come to Balmoral with Vince and break her journey in Edinburgh.
There was a further reason too, which accounted for her overprotectiveness, when she told me about the other wee girl, who would have been Faith’s older sister. Born with some organic defect, she had died just a few months old. Olivia said it was still so painful that Vince would never discuss it, how he felt in a way responsible, that as a doctor with all his knowledge he had been helpless to save his own child.
We naturally expected that
Vince laughed. ‘That’s Biddy, she’s the minister’s dog. She has to be patient. Did you enjoy the service, Rose?’ he asked anxiously.
‘It was quite an experience.’ I stifled a yawn. ‘A rather long sermon.’
He laughed again. ‘Pity Biddy isn’t like the collie of a former minister. Rev. Anderson’s dog was famous as a regular follower of the Sunday service. He followed him up to the pulpit steps and lay quietly on the top step during the sermon, or quietly at least until he decided that time was up and further eloquence unnecessary. He would then stand up, stretch himself and yawn – just like you wanted to do, Rose – I saw that! Anyway, when the Queen came to morning service, Rev. Anderson left the dog at home but she had heard of the collie’s habits. Someone had made a sketch of the pulpit with him lying there and she suggested that the minister’s dog must certainly not be excluded for her sake. Although she claimed to be a ready absorber of sermons, especially of Scottish ones, she may have valued the dog’s services as timekeeper.’
I was looking round for Lily so that she could come back with us in the motor car. And there she was, head down, talking animatedly to a man, a tall man, wearing a bonnet.
‘Look, Uncle Vince, Lily’s made friends at last,’ said Meg.
‘A dark horse, indeed,’ Vince laughed. ‘It is a well-known condition among young females who never have a word to say to their own kind that they prefer to save their sparkles for gentlemen. Ah, here’s our car at last.’
As it came alongside it momentarily blocked our view but as the man turned I thought I recognised him as the passenger racing along the station platform in Edinburgh and with those alighting from the royal train at Ballater. Then again, among the gipsies when we were held up en route by the sheep. He seemed to be everywhere. Who on earth was he, this man who reminded me of Danny? And what was his connection with Balmoral Castle?
And more intriguing was the animation of the normally speechless Lily. I decided I must tactfully raise the subject with Mabel when we got back to the cottage but no opportune moment occurred that day.
Then, next morning, not only the hoped-for postcard from Jack, but the totally unexpected arrival of Vince rushing in clutching a telegram. His smile, radiant as the sun that had deigned to reward us with an appearance, put our fears at rest.
‘You’ll never guess! Livvy’s on her way with Faith. They’re arriving at Ballater this afternoon.’ He was almost jumping for joy and I knew how sad and concerned he had felt at their absence, how much he was missing Olivia, anxious about that frail wee daughter too, when he added:
‘Nothing serious with Faith after all, but you know how it is, how cautious one becomes.’ And to Mabel. ‘Livvy was so disappointed – felt she was letting you down missing this meeting after so many years.’
Now there was a great flutter of excitement at the prospect of the new arrivals. Mabel was cautiously pleased, Meg delighted that she was to see her new-found cousin, confident that they would be great friends and have such fun playing together. As for me, I was delighted at the prospect of being with Olivia again, since we had met far too rarely since I came back to Scotland; a conscientious mother, she was bound by children who she refused to leave in the care of servants so that she could come to Balmoral with Vince and break her journey in Edinburgh.
There was a further reason too, which accounted for her overprotectiveness, when she told me about the other wee girl, who would have been Faith’s older sister. Born with some organic defect, she had died just a few months old. Olivia said it was still so painful that Vince would never discuss it, how he felt in a way responsible, that as a doctor with all his knowledge he had been helpless to save his own child.
We naturally expected that
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