The Nickum by Doris Davidson

her door, which endearment grew steadily more fervent as the weeks went past, until the time came that Becky had been waiting for. Jackie let his hand stray to her breast, and after a very slight resistance, she let him carry on, fully understanding that he was stimulating himself as much as he was stimulating her. But she did not intend to let him go all the way. Her mother had warned her against that.
    ‘Once you let a boy have his way with you,’ she had said, ‘he’ll lose interest. Don’t think because he’s making love to you that he really loves you. Many a lassie has been left in the family way after letting a boy do what he wanted. Boys – and men – are usually after one thing, and when they get it, they move on to another girl. Keep your hand on your ha’penny till he’s puts the wedding band on your finger.’
    Becky had believed her, and even though she loved Jackie with all her heart, she had come to acknowledge that marrying a boy with prospects would be much better than marrying a farm worker, and she didn’t want to jeopardise her chances of marrying into the Burns family.
    ‘How’re you and Jackie getting on?’ Connie asked one night, after Becky had stayed out until well after ten.
    ‘Great. He’s on the boil, pleading with me to let him … you know, and I just say no.’
    ‘You’re playing with fire.’
    ‘I know, and I’ll make sure the fire doesn’t go out.’ Becky threw her underclothes over a chair and grinned. ‘Don’t you think I’ve got a lovely body? Jackie says I have, and that’s what he wants. My body, Connie. And I want him to have it, but not unless he weds me.’
    Connie’s eyebrows had shot up. She could only agree that Becky had a lovely body, for she was quite jealous of it. Her own body wasn’t curvy. Her breasts were quite small, her hips weren’t voluptuous, her waist wasn’t so slim. Everything about Becky shouted, ‘Come and get me. I’m waiting for it.’ And the Burns laddie wouldn’t wait for ever. If Becky didn’t give in to him, he would soon get some other girl who would.
    Although Emily had been preparing herself for her elder daughter, who would be twenty in August, to meet a lad and eventually want to be wed, she was utterly devastated when Rebecca, just sixteen past September, asked at breakfast time one morning, ‘Mam, can I ask Jackie Burns to come for his tea some night this week?’
    It was Jake who said, jokingly, ‘Is this a lad you’ve gotten?’
    ‘We’ve been keepin’ company for a good few month, an’ he wants to ask you something, Dad.’
    The girl was blushing now, letting Emily know exactly what was in the wind, but her husband was grinning. ‘Aye, tell him to come the morra if he wants. I’ll be glad to answer ony question he likes.’
    The girl jumped up to hug him. ‘Oh, thanks, Dad. That’s great. I’ll tell Jackie the night it’ll be OK.’
    She took her father’s arm and they both went out together, leaving Emily gazing helplessly at her other daughter. ‘Did you know about this, Connie?’
    Guiltily red-faced, the girl said, ‘Becky and Jackie Burns, you mean?’
    ‘Of course I mean about Becky and Jackie Burns.’
    At this point, Willie, who had been drinking everything in, decided to put in a word or two of his own to lighten the atmosphere. ‘It’s a shame his name’s nae Robbie, in’t it?’
    Glad of the interruption, Connie gave him the answer he was obviously waiting for. ‘Why is’t a shame his name’s nae Robbie?’
    ‘He’d need to watch and nae go ower near the fire.’
    ‘Ower near the fire? I dinna see what …’ Connie’s nose was wrinkled in puzzlement.
    ‘In case his robbie burns,’ Willie laughed.
    ‘What’s Robbie Burns got to dae wi’ this? He’s Scotland’s greatest poet, Mr Bremner used to say.’
    ‘He’s being very rude!’ Emily’s mouth was drawn in. ‘And stupid! Not many men call it their robbie, it’s usually called their willie, so he needn’t laugh at