The Road to Rowanbrae by Doris Davidson Page A

I come back, you’ll feel the weight o’ my hand on your lug.’
    Tenderly administering to her favourite son in the dairy, Mysie wished, not for the first time, that Jamie had been her only one.

Chapter Four
    1913
    â€˜There’s to be a meal an’ ale up at Fingask on Saturday,’ Jess observed. ‘Are you comin’?’
    â€˜Jeems’ll nae go.’ Mysie had never pressed the matter when her husband refused, but now she felt resentful that he hadn’t considered her before. It was over eight years since she had come to Rowanbrae but she was only twenty-four, and she wanted some amusement before she was too old to enjoy it. ‘You ken, Jess, I dinna see why I shouldna go, an’ Jeems can bide at hame if he likes.’
    â€˜That’s the spirit,’ Jess beamed. ‘He’s a cantankerous de’il an’ he forgets you’re nae as auld as him. Here’s me an’ Jake, we still ha’e a grand time at a meal an’ ale, an’ we’re baith gettin’ on for forty. But Jeems has never went, nae even when he was a lot younger.’
    â€˜He says it’s just a excuse for the men to get drunk an’ tak’ up wi’ somebody else’s wife.’
    â€˜Weel, what’s wrang wi’ that?’ Jess threw back her head and laughed. ‘I’ve had a good puckle offers in my time, when Jake was that drunk he wouldna ha’e ken’t what I was daein’.’
    â€˜Did you ever let …?’
    â€˜I was sair tempted whiles, but something aye held me back. I didna object to gettin’ a cuddle an’ a kiss, though.’
    â€˜Was it onybody I’d ken that cuddled an’ kissed you?’
    â€˜Weel, I once let the miller …’
    â€˜Andra White? But he’s bald an’ wizened.’
    â€˜He wasna so bald and wizened at that time, an’, losh Mysie, I thought he’d ha’e the breeks aff me. I’d to kick his shins afore I could get awa’ fae him.’
    Picturing it, Mysie giggled. ‘What did he say to that?’
    â€˜He roared oot, “You coorse bitch!” ‘
    Jess imitated Andra’s rather high-pitched voice, then winked. ‘It wasna his shins that was hurtin’ him, though, for my knee got him further up than that, so maybe that’s the road he speaks so squeaky.’
    â€˜Och, Jess. What a wumman you are.’
    â€˜Another time, I let Rab Duff gi’e me a cuddle, but you’ve to watch yoursel’ wi’ Rab as weel.’
    â€˜I ken that.’ Mysie could still remember the way Rab had leered at her in her nightgown. ‘Was there ony mair?’
    â€˜The souter, once, an’ I’m sure his wife would pee hersel’ if she ken’t what he tried to dae. Alice Thomson aye mak’s oot she’s a bit o’ a lady, but if she lets her man carry on like yon in their bed, she’s nae lady.’
    â€˜What did he dae?’ Mysie leaned forward eagerly.
    Throwing up her hands, Jess cried, ‘What did he nae dae? God, his hands were in places I didna ken I had.’
    â€˜It’s true what Jeems says, then?’
    â€˜There’s never muckle harm daen, though. The men’s just oot for fun, an’ it’s only them that’s fu’ that tries to go ower far. I’ve never let ony o’ them get past the elastic in my bloomer legs though they prigged till they were blue in the face. I like to be tickled up a wee bit, but I dinna want to be served on a dung heap at the back o’ a byre.’
    â€˜Do you think onybody’ll want to tickle me up?’
    â€˜Nae doot, but if they try, keep your hand on your ha’penny, it’s ower easy to get carried awa’.’ Jess was rather regretting telling her friend so much, for Mysie was inexperienced in the ways of men and could easily find herself in trouble, but it was done now. ‘You say you’re comin’,