Read Online The Nickum by Doris Davidson - Free Book Online Page A

struggle. She didn’t want to show herself as an over-protective mother, and in any case, whatever her older daughter was doing, it was probably too late now to stop her. Retribution for her, her father and her little brother would have to wait until next day.
    Willie, dressed in his school breeks now, was running around with the other bairns, playing hide-and-seek or tick-and-tack, or What’s the Time Mr Wolf, and getting in everybody’s way. Not that anybody minded, for the alcohol – liberally provided by Tom Burns – was having a calming effect on all who partook of it. Nobody at all had gone the other way, thank goodness, the aggressive way that sometimes took over.
    It was well after the ‘witching hour’ before the party began to break up. The whole house was full of cigarette smoke and the reek of whisky, which made the youngest members of the company cry because their eyes were nipping, and the mothers shepherded – almost carried – their protesting husbands towards the door. As Beenie Middleton barked to hers, ‘Shift yoursel’, for ony sake, an’ I wouldna like to ha’e a sair heid like you’ll ha’e in the mornin’, you drunken bugger.’
    Obviously accustomed to this form of address from his wife, he leered at her with a vacant grin, but she shook off the arm he was trying to slide round her waist and thrust him from her with a look of disgust.
    It was wearing on for one o’clock before Emily got her brood settled down, Jake being the worst to get to bed. Connie didn’t appear to be in the least hang-dog, so she surely hadn’t done anything she shouldn’t, Emily mused, as she took off her clothes and crept in beside her already dead-to-the-world husband. She couldn’t bear to let her thoughts dwell on seventeen-year-old Becky, whose groom had taken her for a night’s stay in a posh hotel in Aberdeen before their fortnight’s honeymoon in Edinburgh. They’d taken the nine o’clock train and had likely been in bed for hours by now – Jackie Burns had shown signs of impatience before they left, and no doubt would have taken his way with his bride as soon as they went into their hotel room.
    Emily drew in a long shuddery breath. She could only hope and pray that the poor lass hadn’t had too big a shock. On her own wedding night, Jake had been gentle and loving – as he still was on the widely spaced nights when he claimed his rights as her husband – and maybe Jackie was the same, but so many other wives told a different story. She turned over carefully, her back to the grunting snores, and wished that she’d made Connie help her to tidy the kitchen before they came to bed. It was an awful thought having to rise in the morning to all that work before they could have any breakfast.
    Connie was undecided whether to be glad or sorry. She was glad that she hadn’t gone against what her mother had taught her – not to let any boy touch her until she was wed to him – but she wished she’d had the nerve to let Gordie Brodie do what he wanted. She nearly had, oh, how nearly! If he’d persisted for just another second or so, she’d have let him; it was only the thought of Mam’s anger that stopped her. Plus, if he’d bairned her, Dad would have half killed her, and him, or thrown her out of the house, and she’d have nowhere to go. Gordie wasn’t the marrying kind, she knew that, and he’d just wanted to be able to tell his friends she was an easy lay. Aye, she wasn’t under any misapprehension about that, but she wished she’d tasted the forbidden fruit just this once. She might never get another chance.
    Willie, too, was thinking, wishing now that he’d kept on the kilt. It hadn’t been so bad, really. If Malcie Middleton hadn’t made everybody laugh, he wouldn’t have minded. He’d felt quite important being one of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s soldiers. Och, well, it couldn’t be helped now, and he hadn’t missed much while he was upstairs. In fact, he’d seen something he