husband would indeed send for me and our children to join him in Canada. There, no longer a hunted Radical leader, he would be free. And I would be free of all this terrible worry, the dread of his being captured. God knows I suffered such hellish worry for too many years.
Maggie put her hands up to her face as an even more upsetting thought occurred to her. Perhaps in his deepest heart, Fergus had all along hated the very idea of ever bringing up Ewan. It was fine to get out of my predicament what he wanted and needed materially at the time, but as to seeing another man’s bastard to full manhood... over long years of pretence...? Aye, maybe Fergus was escaping from more than the forces of Law and Order.
Deliberately turning her thoughts to another tack, Maggie then found herself reflecting on the gossiping woman she had so recently witnessed at the street corner and she could feel her lips tighten in resolve.
So, those tittle-tattling women they think they’ve got all the gossip, do they? Mind you, what they don’t know for a fact, sure as hell they’ll make up anyway. Probably they think Fergus and his lady-love Sheena – his first-love, for God’s sake – are off to live a bidie-in lifestyle in some hovel in Greenock or in Port Glasgow. I wonder what they’d make of the juiciest bit of news of all... forget Scotland, bonnie or otherwise they’re off to be pioneers in Canada, aye, Canada. Fergus and his bidie-in woman. Uch tae hell with it all. Just wait till one of those nosey neighbours comes speirin at my door for news. News? Humph I’ll give them news all right. Just see if I don’t.
It was some two hours or so later when Mistress Weir turned up at Maggie’s door. As Maggie admitted the woman, her neighbour took one look at Maggie’s tear-stained face, a hasty glance round at the chaos in the room, at the still unlit fire and at once all motherly concern she said, “Right then, Ewan stop that noisy game ye’re playin, ye’re the man of the house now, so take yer sister, Fiona, across the street to yer Auntie Jess. As Ah passed her window, she telt me she’s making puff candy for ye weans, so best get across there before she gives the wee treat to some other bairns. Stay over there, enjoy the puff candy and Auntie Jess will see ye home later on the day. Right noo, skedaddle the pair o ye.”
With the children safely despatched, Euphemia Weir then turned her attention to Maggie with the words, “Sit ye down, lass, in that comfy chair and while Ah’m brewin us up a pot of tea, if ye’ve any tears left, weel then jist have a real guid greet tae yersel, Nothin like it, and ye’ll feel better.”
Like an obedient child, once seated with a cushion at her back by the still unlit fire, Maggie ¬¬- now that, as it were, permission had been given to cry her heart out - she found suddenly her copious tears of half an hour ago, were gone, dried up.
With a new resolve in her heart and determined not to become a helpless victim, but rather to maintain her independence at all costs, Maggie managed to get out the words, “Look, Mistress Weir, it’s very kind of you, really it is and knowing how much you’re still missing your own son Davie, but honestly there’s no need for you to rescue me in this way... I’ll manage fine on my own, that I will. Anyway, as we both know, it’s not exactly as if you and I were ever what you might call bosom pals, is it? So why on earth should I want to, far less expect to, lean on you now?”
The older woman raised her eyes to heaven.
“Listen, hen, ye’re a neighbour in trouble, Ah want tae help ye; it’s what neighbours do. Ah’m mibbe a bit older and wiser in the ways of the world than you. And as for us no ever being like bosom pals, well Ah’m telling you now... all that changed for me yon happy day that your guid man took me intae his confidence. Him, a high rankin Radical leader and me jist a penniless auld neighbour. Ah tell ye now, Ah felt honoured. Aye
Maggie put her hands up to her face as an even more upsetting thought occurred to her. Perhaps in his deepest heart, Fergus had all along hated the very idea of ever bringing up Ewan. It was fine to get out of my predicament what he wanted and needed materially at the time, but as to seeing another man’s bastard to full manhood... over long years of pretence...? Aye, maybe Fergus was escaping from more than the forces of Law and Order.
Deliberately turning her thoughts to another tack, Maggie then found herself reflecting on the gossiping woman she had so recently witnessed at the street corner and she could feel her lips tighten in resolve.
So, those tittle-tattling women they think they’ve got all the gossip, do they? Mind you, what they don’t know for a fact, sure as hell they’ll make up anyway. Probably they think Fergus and his lady-love Sheena – his first-love, for God’s sake – are off to live a bidie-in lifestyle in some hovel in Greenock or in Port Glasgow. I wonder what they’d make of the juiciest bit of news of all... forget Scotland, bonnie or otherwise they’re off to be pioneers in Canada, aye, Canada. Fergus and his bidie-in woman. Uch tae hell with it all. Just wait till one of those nosey neighbours comes speirin at my door for news. News? Humph I’ll give them news all right. Just see if I don’t.
It was some two hours or so later when Mistress Weir turned up at Maggie’s door. As Maggie admitted the woman, her neighbour took one look at Maggie’s tear-stained face, a hasty glance round at the chaos in the room, at the still unlit fire and at once all motherly concern she said, “Right then, Ewan stop that noisy game ye’re playin, ye’re the man of the house now, so take yer sister, Fiona, across the street to yer Auntie Jess. As Ah passed her window, she telt me she’s making puff candy for ye weans, so best get across there before she gives the wee treat to some other bairns. Stay over there, enjoy the puff candy and Auntie Jess will see ye home later on the day. Right noo, skedaddle the pair o ye.”
With the children safely despatched, Euphemia Weir then turned her attention to Maggie with the words, “Sit ye down, lass, in that comfy chair and while Ah’m brewin us up a pot of tea, if ye’ve any tears left, weel then jist have a real guid greet tae yersel, Nothin like it, and ye’ll feel better.”
Like an obedient child, once seated with a cushion at her back by the still unlit fire, Maggie ¬¬- now that, as it were, permission had been given to cry her heart out - she found suddenly her copious tears of half an hour ago, were gone, dried up.
With a new resolve in her heart and determined not to become a helpless victim, but rather to maintain her independence at all costs, Maggie managed to get out the words, “Look, Mistress Weir, it’s very kind of you, really it is and knowing how much you’re still missing your own son Davie, but honestly there’s no need for you to rescue me in this way... I’ll manage fine on my own, that I will. Anyway, as we both know, it’s not exactly as if you and I were ever what you might call bosom pals, is it? So why on earth should I want to, far less expect to, lean on you now?”
The older woman raised her eyes to heaven.
“Listen, hen, ye’re a neighbour in trouble, Ah want tae help ye; it’s what neighbours do. Ah’m mibbe a bit older and wiser in the ways of the world than you. And as for us no ever being like bosom pals, well Ah’m telling you now... all that changed for me yon happy day that your guid man took me intae his confidence. Him, a high rankin Radical leader and me jist a penniless auld neighbour. Ah tell ye now, Ah felt honoured. Aye
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