“Not really. Still, it’ll do for this week.”
They laughed together and she ruffled his hair. “You’re a hard boss. Come on, let’s go in. You’ve done a good afternoon’s work today.” She thrust her arm casually around his shoulders and was rewarded by a sweet look of perfect understanding.
“It wasn’t Sue’s fault. She’s usually pretty careful where she treads. She just tripped.”
“Good job you were handy.” She gave him a friendly push towards the scullery sink.
CHAPTER THREE
Judith offered next morning to go down to the ferry and collect any letters or parcels.
“Thank you, dear, but don’t bring anything heavy,” Barbara warned her. “It’s a little out of your way, but if you could call at Mrs. Drummond’s and ask her if she wants anything? Mairi brings most goods for her, but we usually offer.”
Judith realised that in an island community, close-knit by its own remoteness, good neighbourliness was more than ever a virtue, but she would have preferred to escape Mrs. Drummond’s eager questions.
Mairi’s mother was working in her small, neat front garden. “Isn’t Garranmure a beautiful house?” she said to Judith. “And such lovely furnishings. What did you think of old Mrs. Huntly?”
“Charming. Just the kind of gracious old lady I’d like to be when I’m her age, but I haven’t any hopes of that.”
“And Fiona?”
Judith gave a small sigh. “She’s one of the loveliest girls I’ve ever seen. In London she’d be a sensation.”
“Oh, aye, I’ve been saying this long while that she’s wasting herself here. She’s talented, too. Plays the violin like an angel, according to folk who can judge these things.”
Judith nodded, but remained silent. It was not for her, a casual visitor, to criticise Fiona for lack of ambition or for refusing to leave the home where she considered, she belonged.
“I thought when she came back from school in Switzerland,” Mrs. Drummond continued, “she’d go where there was more life. Can you imagine a pretty young girl like her wanting to stay in Cruban?”
“She’ll probably make up her mind sooner or later what she wants to do.”
Mrs. Drummond looked across the Sound towards the Huntlys’ house. “Oh, well, it’s no use trying to push young people in ways they don’t want to go. I can’t even make Mairi see sense over Neil. She thinks he’s a little tin god and nobody like him.”
“Perhaps she’s sorry for him because he’s had some sort of bad luck.” Judith probably sounded more consoling than she had intended.
Mrs. Drummond’s hopeful gaze swung round towards the girl. “D’you think that could be so? Maybe you’re right. But I’m wasting your time, my dear. It’s very good of you to call. There may be a letter or two and perhaps a small parcel of wool I ordered in Cruban.”
“I’ll bring whatever there is,” Judith promised. Stuart’s name had never been mentioned in the brief conversation, but it was obvious how much Mrs. Drummond had set her heart on a match between her daughter and Stuart. All other distractions—Fiona, Neil—were interlopers, diverting Mairi and Stuart from their true destiny.
Neil was at the. slipway, talking to Fraser, the ferryman, and after Judith had collected the letters from the ferry house, where the front room was the post-office, she went down to ask about the parcels.
“I have the tractor here,” Neil told her, “and I’ll take the parcels up to your place.”
“Anything for Mrs. Drummond? I promised I’d take hers.”
Mr. Fraser found two small packages.
“I can take those as well,” Neil offered. “I might as well make the round trip.”
“Not if it’s out of your way,” Judith said quickly. “I can easily walk back.”
“Or, I can offer you a bone-dislocating ride on the tractor. Perhaps, after London streets, you’re not inclined to risk it.”
She smiled politely. “I’m not as soft as you’re trying to make Mr. Fraser
They laughed together and she ruffled his hair. “You’re a hard boss. Come on, let’s go in. You’ve done a good afternoon’s work today.” She thrust her arm casually around his shoulders and was rewarded by a sweet look of perfect understanding.
“It wasn’t Sue’s fault. She’s usually pretty careful where she treads. She just tripped.”
“Good job you were handy.” She gave him a friendly push towards the scullery sink.
CHAPTER THREE
Judith offered next morning to go down to the ferry and collect any letters or parcels.
“Thank you, dear, but don’t bring anything heavy,” Barbara warned her. “It’s a little out of your way, but if you could call at Mrs. Drummond’s and ask her if she wants anything? Mairi brings most goods for her, but we usually offer.”
Judith realised that in an island community, close-knit by its own remoteness, good neighbourliness was more than ever a virtue, but she would have preferred to escape Mrs. Drummond’s eager questions.
Mairi’s mother was working in her small, neat front garden. “Isn’t Garranmure a beautiful house?” she said to Judith. “And such lovely furnishings. What did you think of old Mrs. Huntly?”
“Charming. Just the kind of gracious old lady I’d like to be when I’m her age, but I haven’t any hopes of that.”
“And Fiona?”
Judith gave a small sigh. “She’s one of the loveliest girls I’ve ever seen. In London she’d be a sensation.”
“Oh, aye, I’ve been saying this long while that she’s wasting herself here. She’s talented, too. Plays the violin like an angel, according to folk who can judge these things.”
Judith nodded, but remained silent. It was not for her, a casual visitor, to criticise Fiona for lack of ambition or for refusing to leave the home where she considered, she belonged.
“I thought when she came back from school in Switzerland,” Mrs. Drummond continued, “she’d go where there was more life. Can you imagine a pretty young girl like her wanting to stay in Cruban?”
“She’ll probably make up her mind sooner or later what she wants to do.”
Mrs. Drummond looked across the Sound towards the Huntlys’ house. “Oh, well, it’s no use trying to push young people in ways they don’t want to go. I can’t even make Mairi see sense over Neil. She thinks he’s a little tin god and nobody like him.”
“Perhaps she’s sorry for him because he’s had some sort of bad luck.” Judith probably sounded more consoling than she had intended.
Mrs. Drummond’s hopeful gaze swung round towards the girl. “D’you think that could be so? Maybe you’re right. But I’m wasting your time, my dear. It’s very good of you to call. There may be a letter or two and perhaps a small parcel of wool I ordered in Cruban.”
“I’ll bring whatever there is,” Judith promised. Stuart’s name had never been mentioned in the brief conversation, but it was obvious how much Mrs. Drummond had set her heart on a match between her daughter and Stuart. All other distractions—Fiona, Neil—were interlopers, diverting Mairi and Stuart from their true destiny.
Neil was at the. slipway, talking to Fraser, the ferryman, and after Judith had collected the letters from the ferry house, where the front room was the post-office, she went down to ask about the parcels.
“I have the tractor here,” Neil told her, “and I’ll take the parcels up to your place.”
“Anything for Mrs. Drummond? I promised I’d take hers.”
Mr. Fraser found two small packages.
“I can take those as well,” Neil offered. “I might as well make the round trip.”
“Not if it’s out of your way,” Judith said quickly. “I can easily walk back.”
“Or, I can offer you a bone-dislocating ride on the tractor. Perhaps, after London streets, you’re not inclined to risk it.”
She smiled politely. “I’m not as soft as you’re trying to make Mr. Fraser
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