The Shadow of the Sycamores Read online

  The summons to the Superintendent’s office came as quite a shock to Jerry. He couldn’t think of any reason for it but he laid his tools down neatly and went inside. ‘You sent for me, Mr. Miller?’

  ‘Er … yes … Jerry, isn’t it?’

  The youth was surprised by the man’s obvious unease but waited silently.

  ‘You have … um … been seeing quite a lot of … Anna Cairns, I believe?’

  That was no secret so Jerry said, ‘Aye, Tina thought it would be good for her to get to know somebody her own age … of the opposite sex.’

  ‘So I believe. Well … um … it may have been good as an idea but … as you are no doubt aware, it has not worked out so well in reality.’

  A cold shiver went up the boy’s spine. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that because you let your passions run away with you, Anna is now expecting a child.’ Jerry’s obvious bewilderment made him go on, ‘Did you not know that … um … what you did … could have such a result?’

  ‘No, I didn’t know.’

  There was no doubt that he was telling the truth and Raymond felt his anger slipping away. ‘Well, it seems that neither did Anna but that is exactly what happened. I have notified her father but … um … he appears to have a heart of stone or no heart at all. He suggested that she gets rid of it but Doctor Watt has said he will not terminate the pregnancy. The other suggestion Mr Cairns made was that you should … make an honest woman of her.’

  ‘An honest woman?’

  ‘Are you prepared to marry her and give the child your name?’

  Jerry gasped with shock. ‘Mr Miller, I would give the world to be able to marry Anna but I can’t afford to keep a wife – let alone a child …’

  ‘We shall have to come to some agreement then. If you are willing to take the step, that would be the biggest hurdle cleared.’

  The other hurdles did not take long to negotiate and, within fifteen minutes, Jerry was walking back to where he had been working. His mind was in a whirl, his legs were shaking but, all in all, he concluded, he couldn’t be happier. He was to get an increase in pay, not all that much but at least they were to get their meals and clothes paid for them and they were to have the old lodge at the end of the driveway as a home.

  For a moment, his soaring thoughts came to halt. Although he hadn’t known why, he had always felt guilty about making love to Anna. He’d had a feeling that it was wrong and exactly how wrong it was had been proved now but, strangely, he hadn’t been punished for it. In fact, what he had hoped to achieve some time in the future had been given to him with no strings attached. He and Anna had played with fire and been burned but it had been the best thing that had ever happened to them.

  Of the five people closely involved in the forthcoming marriage, two were relieved that they had escaped so easily from what could have meant the end of their careers and two were blissfully happy, although scarcely able to believe their good fortune. Only Tina had misgivings. In her mind, the youngsters were not being punished for the terrible crime they had committed, for it was a terrible crime. Instead, they were being rewarded. Not that she wanted the poor things to be made unhappy but it might be better for them if they’d been reprimanded to some degree. It would let them know they couldn’t always do what they wanted. There were always other people to consider.

  Mrs Miller had relied on her to look after the girl and, by Jove, she would not make a mistake again. Not that it mattered now – it was too late, like locking the stable door after the horse had bolted. She had also to make sure that as few people as possible got to know, to make those of the workers who realised what had happened swear not to spread it about. It wasn’t a good advertisement for The Sycamores that the youngest patient had been allowed to get in such a condition – and practically encouraged to do so, some folk would say.

  There was one shadow lurking at the edge of Jerry’s joy. He knew he should let his parents know about the wedding – and the baby – but he couldn’t face his mother’s disappointment in him. She had trusted him to behave and he had let her down badly. One good thing was that he wouldn’t have to contend with Anna’s father as well. Mr Cairns had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with her or her child.

  Poor Anna, the boy thought. He was determined to make it up to her for all the love she had missed in her childhood … and to shield her from any nasty gossip.

  As it happened, a far more serious event took most minds at The Sycamores off Anna and Jerry. The Archduke Ferdinand of Austria and his wife were assassinated in Sarajevo and Britain declared war on Germany on the fourth of August. The chaplain, a young man with no ties, volunteered his services to the army and the marriage, which had been arranged for the tenth, had to be postponed until a new minister could be found. The replacement who eventually turned up was an old bachelor and, having been given no information about the bride’s condition, happily performed the ceremony, smiling vacuously at the young couple and their two attendants, the Superintendent and his wife. Anna had asked Tina to be her bridesmaid but she had refused on the grounds that ‘it would be out of place’.

  No others were present and Jerry told himself that the news of his wedding could safely be kept from his parents until times were more settled. It might be best to wait until after the infant was born. Having a grandchild would surely blunt his mother’s anger at him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  1915

  New Year’s Day was far more exciting for twenty-four-year-old Mara Rae than it had ever been and all because of Leo Ferguson. He had called for her two evenings a week in October, had been accepted by her parents as a suitable suitor and had graduated to coming for her every night during November. Unfortunately, December had turned out to be less favourable for ‘walking out’. Gale-force winds and icy conditions meant that they were forced to remain indoors. As a special treat, however, after the bells had rung in the new year and the four of them had drunk a toast to ‘health, wealth and happiness’, Henry had said they could have half an hour on their own in the parlour.

  ‘But remember,’ he had warned Leo, albeit half in jest, ‘if you are even two minutes longer, I’ll come in to make sure you are not taking any liberties with my daughter.’

  ‘Oh, Father!’ Mara protested, her cheeks scarlet with embarrassment.

  Her young man shook his head. ‘You have no need to worry, Mr Rae. I love Samara, and I will take no liberties, I promise.’

  Henry gave him a playful punch on the shoulder as he went past. ‘I didn’t honestly think you would. Are you ready to go to bed, my Fairy?’

  There was rather an awkward silence between the two young people for a moment or two after the door closed, then Mara whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, Leo. My father has spoiled everything.’

  Leo grinned roguishly. ‘Did you want me to take liberties with you?’

  Colour flared up in her cheeks again. He added hastily, ‘I’m sorry, Samara. I shouldn’t have said that. I was only joking.’

  She ignored his apology. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you did … take liberties.’

  With a quick intake of breath, he slid his arms around her. Thirty minutes had never passed so quickly for either of them and perhaps small liberties were taken but none so drastic as Henry had feared. Leo was keeping his promise, breaking off the kisses and caresses before they went beyond the point of no return. At last, very reluctantly, he whispered, ‘I had better go, my darling. I do not want to antagonise your father.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘It would be best not to.’

  Their last kiss was almost Leo’s undoing but he managed to slide free of her embrace. ‘No, sweetheart, we must stop.’ He stood up to show that he meant it.

  Giving a small sigh, she also got to her feet. ‘I nearly forgot, Leo. Mother said she would like you to join us for a meal tomorrow night – tonight, I mean. That is, if your mother isn’t …’

  ‘Tell your mother I am delighted to accept her invitation.’

&
nbsp; After seeing him out and getting only a quick peck on the cheek, she went back to the parlour to turn out the light – the council had installed gas for them the previous year. It was already twenty-five to one, she noticed, and smiled because there was no sound from her parents’ room. As she climbed the stairs, she wondered how long it would be before Leo asked her to marry him. She had hoped that it would be tonight, this special night, but it hadn’t happened.

  Even though he had to watch his feet in the ruts and humps of ice, Leo was thinking along much the same lines as Mara as he wended his way home. He had originally intended to ask her father for her hand tonight but, during some early talk about the progress of the war, a new concept had arisen in his mind – a concept that would need deep consideration before he committed himself to anything else.

  He had made only one friend since coming to Ardbirtle with his father and stepmother four months ago but Samara had more than filled the place previously held by the pals he had left behind in Edinburgh – not that there had been many of them for he had never been a great socialiser. He had been only ten when his mother died and his father had had a succession of housekeepers who had mostly been interested in their employer’s financial position and had no time for little boys.

  His father had stood out against them for many years but had at last fallen for the blonde, curvaceous Madeline Kerr who was somewhere around forty years of age. It was difficult to tell. Instead of making her objective obvious like her predecessors, Maddy had shown neither interest in his money nor any aspirations towards marriage and her tactics had worked. Within five months she had become the wife of James Ferguson, head of the maternity unit of the General Hospital and heir to the long-retired wealthy stockbroker, John Murdo Ferguson.

  His grandfather had died just over a year before, Leo recalled sadly, for he had been very fond of the old man, and while he himself had been left the goodly sum of three thousand pounds, his father had inherited everything else. This had been when Maddy came into her own, pleading and cajoling with her husband to stop working and buy a house worthy of their new status. Still besotted by her, he had not taken long to agree and had, in fact, purchased two properties – one was an impressive mansion in Edinburgh’s Morningside and the other, as a holiday home, a not-too-small cottage on the outskirts of Ardbirtle in Aberdeenshire.

  Maddy had been delighted with the first, showing it off to her circle of friends, mostly upstarts like herself, and lording it over the servants she had persuaded her husband to employ; but she was not impressed by the second, apart from being able to boast about their ‘country house’. It had, however, become a sort of haven for Leo, who had taken up almost permanent residence there since meeting Samara Rae. He had told her nothing about his family and nor had he mentioned his good fortune – he meant to propose to her first. That way, he would know that she loved him for himself, not for his money, and he was quite looking forward to seeing her beautiful face transformed with pleasure when he eventually told her the truth.

  Unfortunately, something had occurred that changed his plans. During his last visit to his father in Edinburgh, several women had made scathing remarks in his hearing about ‘the rich young men who were afraid to take up arms against the enemy’. The same had not happened in Ardbirtle – not yet, at any rate, but no doubt it would come and Samara, like all the others, would despise him as a coward.

  It would break her heart if he left her now, when they had almost plighted their troth, but he would have to go to fight for his country. Samara would understand. Maybe she was already wondering why he had not enlisted.

  Jerry was hoping that it was Anna’s pregnancy that was making her act the way she was doing. He had known that she was very shy with other people and he had kind of expected her to be embarrassed on their first night in bed together but he had not foreseen her violent reaction to him. He had been kissing her lovingly, tenderly, which she seemed to enjoy and then his manhood had jumped to attention and everything had changed.

  ‘Take that thing away from me,’ she had screamed, jerking her knee up with great force into his groin. ‘I know what you’re trying to do and I’m not going to let you hurt me.’

  He was already out of bed and doubled over in agony so that her last few words did not register in his mind. ‘What’s wrong with you, Anna?’ he muttered as soon as he was fit to speak. ‘I wasn’t trying to do anything.’

  ‘Yes, you were.’ She cowered away from him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘I could feel your thing boring into me.’

  He resented this. His fellow workmates had given him advice before the wedding about what he should do and how he should do it but he’d thought they were joking. His body, however, had shown him that they hadn’t been. ‘That’s what it’s supposed to do,’ he snapped before the new fear in her eyes warned him to say no more on that subject. ‘I’m sorry, Anna,’ he murmured instead, adding beseechingly, ‘It’s freezing cold out here. Will you please let me back under the blankets? I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to do.’

  ‘All right, then.’ She whipped back the bedclothes but turned away from him. ‘Goodnight, Jerry.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  He was forced to lie with his back to hers, otherwise his erection would make her think he was about to break his promise. He hadn’t known that lying so close to her would have that effect on him, not so quickly at any rate, and now the damned thing wouldn’t go down.

  As Jerry was to find out, his ‘thing’ had a life of its own, rearing up even before he got into bed alongside his wife every night – also in the mornings when he woke. It was very awkward and sometimes almost impossible to ignore but he fought back the temptation to jump on her and let it have its way. He still loved her, of course, and was pleased with how she coped with her new lifestyle. She had never done any sort of housework before but she kept their little home spotless and showed a flair for sewing, making tiny garments that a trained dressmaker could not have faulted.

  Because they were expected to take their meals in the large kitchen along with the rest of the staff, she bemoaned being denied an opportunity to cook for him. What was worse, she was growing more and more childish. Sulking if she did not get her way or stamping her foot.

  They had been husband and wife for only seven weeks when she said, as they dressed one morning, ‘I wish I knew what was going to happen to me. Tina says I’ll have labour pains but they surely won’t be very bad … will they? I don’t like having anything sore.’

  He was quite aware of that – it was why he had kept his needs under control – but he didn’t relish the thought of her wailing at him about pain for the next few months. He had not been told when she was due but, counting back to the day he had given her that first bad kiss, she would just be four months gone with five still to go. That was what he worried about most. How would the actual birth affect her? Would she cope with such a trauma? Would she make the change easily to being a mother with the responsibilities that entailed? Or would she reject the child because of the pain it had made her suffer?

  Tina Paul, too, was worried about Anna but not quite from the same angle as Jerry. The nurse knew nothing of her charge’s refusal to let her husband have his ‘rights’ because of the pain it would cause but the far-away look in the girl’s eyes warned that all was not well in her brain. Anna had originally been admitted to The Sycamores as a result of a nervous breakdown after her sister’s death and was recovering slowly after much special care and treatment. Surely this new experience, a monumental change to any girl’s system, would not undo all the good work that had gone before? Surely she wasn’t about to lose her mind altogether?

  Leo had been gone for almost two months before Mara had received his first letter. She had not recovered from the shock of being told that he had enlisted in the Scottish Horse, though she did feel proud of him for being so brave, and her heart lifted as she read what he had written.

  ‘He’ll be home on Saturday,’ she told he
r mother, in great excitement. ‘They’ve been on intensive training – that’s why he hasn’t written before but I don’t care, as long as he’s coming home now.’

  Fay just smiled, not wishing to spoil her daughter’s happiness by asking how long it would be before he had to go back and it was not until she and Henry went to bed that she voiced her worry. ‘They haven’t seen each other for so long, I just hope they can control themselves. You know, I wish he had married her before he went away.’

  ‘Ach, my Fairy, don’t fret yourself about them. They’re both sensible adults. She’s twenty-four, remember, and he must be nearer thirty.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter, not when they’re so much in love and we don’t want an illegitimate grandchild, do we?’

  Tutting his impatience at this, Henry said, ‘I don’t know about you but I don’t want a grandchild at all, illegitimate or otherwise. We’re only forty-four.’

  She detected a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Stop teasing, Tchouki.’

  The old, affectionate use of his given name had the somewhat surprising result of arousing him and Mara and Leo were soon forgotten.

  Mara intended rushing home as soon as she finished work at one o’clock on Saturday but Leo came to the office at half past twelve.

  Mr Kelly looked the tall soldier up and down. ‘You’ll be Samara’s young man, I take it? I suppose I will get no work out of her now so you had better take her away but I want her back here on Monday morning as bright as ever. Off you go, the pair of you.’

  Since Mara would not be expected to be home for another half-hour, they took a slow walk across the square into the trees, stopping to kiss as soon as they were screened from other eyes. ‘Oh, my dear, sweet Samara,’ Leo groaned, ‘I’ve really missed you.’

  ‘Not half as much as I missed you,’ she breathed, her heart doing all sorts of acrobatics as his lips sought hers again.