The Shadow of the Sycamores by Doris Davidson Page B

with fields to be ploughed for the spring planting as well as seeing to the new lambs and all the other on-going jobs and Jim Legge did not relish the prospect of another of his men taking time off. His conscience, however, gave enough of a twinge to make him say, ‘I supposeI could let you take the trap, Mick, and see if he did go to his sister’s. Is she married or is she still at home with their mother and father?’
    Mick shook his head. ‘He’s never said nothing about a mother and father. He just said he’d a sister but he never said where she bade.’
    ‘He once said something to me about his grandmother,’ Charlie Simpson offered, ‘but he didna say where she bade either.’
    ‘That’s it, then!’ The farmer obviously considered that they had wasted too much time already. ‘You go with Charlie, Harry, and the rest of you get on with what you were supposed to be doing. Mick, just a quick scout around, remember. I want you back here in an hour.’
    When the men had left, the farmer’s wife turned to the cook. ‘I can see you’re not happy about this, Janet, but there’s nothing we can do. Henry might have had too much drink yesterday and wasn’t fit to cycle back but no doubt he’ll turn up today.’
    ‘I suppose so.’ Janet watched the mistress and her daughter as they went out, then she turned to her young assistant. ‘What do you think, Maidie? Henry wouldna have been drinking, I’m near sure o’ that.’
    ‘He was dead against the drink,’ the girl agreed.

    The absentee was the main topic again the following morning, the discussion ending by Jim Legge officially giving the second horseman’s job to Harry. By the next day, everyone had got back to normal and forgotten about him – except Janet Emslie. She had taken to Henry Rae the first day she saw him. He was different from all the uncouth orra loons they’d had before – quieter, more serious, innocent. A smile played at the corner of her mouth at the memory of his childlike confusion over the ‘pencil’ he didn’t have.
    This latest business wasn’t funny, though, she chided herself as she pounded a great lump of dough. The lad could be ill – or his sister – or his grandmother, if that was where he’d gone. They would surely have heard by this time if he’d had anaccident – so he could still turn up and there would be no job for him. Young Harry was managing fine in his place and the ploughman’s laddie had now been taken on as orra loon. It was as if Jim Legge had thrown Henry on the midden.
    For the rest of that day, the cook got more and more depressed worrying how he would feel when he learned what had happened and, by the time she went to bed, her heart was as sore as his would be when he did make his appearance.
    She found herself drifting in and out of a troubled sleep and rose even more tired and upset than she had been the night before – even remembering that it was Sunday and her afternoon off did nothing to cheer her. Her brother had promised to take her to see their mother and she was actually dreading the confrontation there was bound to be but, once she rose, she had no time to brood on her own problem – or Henry’s.
    At twelve o’clock, with everything left ready for Maidie to serve at one on the dot, Janet went up to her room to make ready. She dressed in her winter dress, a black bombazine with a line of black pearl buttons marching from the high neck to just below her waist, and black satin ribbon highlighting the pin tucks. She usually felt her spirits lift when she wore it but not today. She took her best bonnet listlessly from its tin box, giving the curled feathers a blow before putting it on and studying her reflection in the tilting mirror. She supposed she would pass in a crowd but what did it matter where she was going?
    She still felt guilty at having put Ma away but, as Roderick had said, they couldn’t have left her on her own. She was over eighty, though she didn’t like to admit it,