The Three Kings Page 8

  Katie jumped to her feet eagerly. ‘Is there something my brother can do, and all?’

  The man turned to Sammy, standing uncertainly, and looked him up and down. ‘Are you willing to work hard, lad?’

  Katie answered for him. ‘He’s a good worker. He’s a bit scared of strangers, and he doesn’t speak much, but he used to do all the gardening at … home, and all the odd jobs.’

  ‘There’s aye a lot of odd jobs at Struieburn, and he looks sturdy enough. So he’s Sammy? What’s your name?’

  ‘Katie Mair, what’s yours?’

  He grinned at her pertness. ‘Davey … Mr Sutherland to you. Come on, then, you’ll be needing some breakfast, no doubt.’

  ‘Yes, please, Mr Sutherland.’

  In the farmhouse kitchen, Madge Sutherland’s face lit up when she learned that Katie was taking over the dairymaid’s job, and she fussed over Sammy as if he were one of the motherless lambs or calves she hand-reared. ‘You can chop some sticks for me when you’re finished eating,’ she smiled. ‘Mr Sutherland’ll tell you where we stack the logs.’

  He returned her smile shyly until she said that he would be sleeping in the bothy with the other single men and Katie would share a room in the farmhouse with the housemaid, at which he stood up, scowling. ‘Sammy sleeps with Katie.’

  Mrs Sutherland glanced at her husband, who muttered, ‘They were lying together when I came across them.’

  ‘We’ve been sleeping together for days,’ Katie explained. ‘We couldn’t pay for beds anywhere, and we went into any old sheds or barns we saw when we were tired.’

  The frankness with which she spoke was enough to convince Madge Sutherland that they had done nothing wrong, and she looked at Sammy again. ‘Katie’ll be sleeping with Susie,’ she said, gently, ‘and you’ll have a comfy bed in the bothy, so be a good laddie and stop arguing.’

  His stricken eyes went to Katie, who said, ‘You don’t have to look out for me now, and we’ll see each other every day.’

  He looked a little happier when he went out to chop the sticks, and the farmer’s wife took Katie to the dairy to teach her how to skim the cream off the milk already in the wooden ‘coggies’. Showing her how to churn the cream, Mrs Sutherland said, ‘When the butter comes, put the buttermilk – that’s what’s left – in a jug, for I make scones with it, and Davey drinks what I don’t need.’

  Her day fully occupied – making the butter, dividing it into workable lumps for use in the kitchen, sterilizing all the utensils, scrubbing the work surfaces in the dairy, then milking the cows at five o’clock and beginning all over again – Katie was glad to lie down in bed with Susie Clark, the little housemaid. They had liked each other on sight when they met at lunchtime, and had got to know each other a little better over supper, but Katie discouraged Susie from asking any questions by saying she was too tired to talk that night. She was tired, but her mind had filled with images of the two bodies she had left lying on the landing at Fenty, and even when she did drop off, it was into an uneasy sleep.

  Chapter Six

  Mary Ann’s hand flew to her breast when she saw a policeman standing on her doorstep, but she recovered quickly. ‘What are you wanting here, Johnny Martin?’ she demanded, scowling at him.

  ‘Can I come in, Mary Ann?’ PC Martin had grown up in the Seatown part of Cullen and knew that her bark was worse than her bite.

  Mystified, she opened the door wider to let him in, and her husband stood up in alarm. ‘Is it about Katie? Dinna say something’s happened to my lassie, Johnny?’

  Removing his hat, the constable shuffled his feet. ‘I came to see if she’s here. I can’t say any more than that.’

  ‘Is she nae at the Howe o’ Fenty?’

  ‘No, she ran off with the laddie Gunn, and that’s all I’m saying. I shouldn’t really be telling you that.’

  Although shocked by this, the old man’s thoughts were still on his grand-daughter’s welfare. ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that, either, for we don’t know where she is. It’s three days since they disappeared, and I was told to find out if she’d come home.’

  ‘She hasna been here since October,’ Mary Ann told him, ‘and that’s nine month ago. She said she’d be back in April, then she wrote saying Mrs Gunn was laid up in her bed and she couldna get off, so we didna expect her.’

  William John bit his lip. ‘Her letters were cheery enough, but it’s a great pity she’s been stuck there. I’m dying to see her again.’

  After clearing his throat nervously, Martin returned to the matter in hand. ‘When she was here, did she tell you about Sammy Gunn?’

  William John stroked his chin. ‘She said he was a bittie simple, and he sometimes went walks wi’ her at night …’

  ‘Did she say anything about his father and mother? Like … was there any trouble?’

  Mary Ann was annoyed at being kept in the dark, and spoke impatiently. ‘She said she got on fine wi’ Mrs Gunn, but she never said much about him. Can you nae tell us what … ?’

  ‘No, it’s confidential information. Have you heard from her lately?’

  ‘We havena had a letter for near three weeks,’ William observed, sadly.

  ‘Oh, well, that’s it, I suppose. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, but my hands are tied.’ PC Martin made for the door.

  As soon as he left, Mary Ann turned to her husband. ‘Like mother, like daughter!’

  The jibe made William John forsake his usual no-arguments-at-any-price doctrine. ‘No, no!’ he cried, ‘Katie’s not a bad lass.’

  His wife pounced in triumph. ‘Ha! So now you admit Lizzie Baxter was bad?’

  ‘I never said that. She wasna bad, any more than Katie is, though you blamed her for enticing your precious son away. Her nor naebody else could have made him go, if he didna want to.’

  ‘She likely forced him into it.’

  There was a long, uncomfortable pause, into which William John made one last effort. ‘You should have told Katie the truth when she was old enough to understand.’

  ‘What could I tell her? That her mother left her on our doorstep? It would have broken her heart.’

  This was a revelation to him. He hadn’t for one minute guessed that she’d been trying to shield the lass. ‘Is that why you never said? I thought …’

  ‘You thought I didna care? Neither I did, nae at first, then – oh, I’ll never forget that poor mite’s eyes looking up into my face …’ She broke off, shaking her head. ‘She was hurt enough as an infant, and when she was old enough I just couldna tell her. You ken, I often wondered what made Lizzie Baxter …’ She broke off, then said, her tone much harder, ‘Ach, we’ll never ken why, and what does it matter now, any road? She’s tainted wi’ her mother’s blood and I never want to see her again.’

  William John wished that his wife would admit, just once, that she loved Katie, as he was sure she did, but it was just the way she was made, and nothing would change her. ‘It wouldna be so bad if Johnny Martin had said why he … I can hardly think she’s done something bad enough to have the bobbies after her.’

  ‘Mr Gunn likely reported her for taking his son away.’

  William John let her have the last word, though he was sure that there must be more to it than that. He pondered over the matter for some time, and came to the conclusion that, whatever Katie had done, it would likely remain as much of a mystery to him as the whereabouts of his son.

  ***

  Awake long before Susie stirred, Katie lay wondering if she had made a big mistake in ending the flight so soon. She and Sammy might have been better to keep going … but how would they have lived? They would have had to beg food, and the more places they stopped, the more people would be able to pass on the information to the police when the newspapers came out with the story of the double murder. Nobody would know that it was Mr Gunn who had killed his wife, nor that his death was really an accident, and everybody would think she and Sammy had killed them both then run a
way.

  Her heart suddenly ached for her grandparents. They would wonder what had happened when they got no more letters from her, especially Granda. But she couldn’t chance writing, for Cullen would be the first place the bobbies would look for her, and though she would stake her life that he wouldn’t tell them where she was, she wasn’t so sure about Grandma. She would just have to make up her mind that she would never see either of them again, she thought, mournfully. They were safer at Struieburn than anywhere else. The farmer’s wife had taken a shine to Sammy and believed that they were a brother and sister whose parents had just died, so she would never suspect anything.

  Suspicions had already formed in the farmer’s mind, however. ‘There’s something queer about Katie and Sammy,’ he observed to his wife as they were dressing. ‘She told him he didn’t need to look out for her now, but I’d have thought it was her that looked after him – him being … well, a bit daft.’

  Hooking her corsets round her ample figure, Madge said, ‘He’s not daft, just backward, and maybe she just lets him think he looks out for her, to keep him happy, like. She’s a good lassie.’

  Davey sighed. ‘You’re too easy taken in, though I must admit the laddie worked hard. He chopped that whole pile of logs and swept the yard like his life depended on it.’

  ‘She worked like a trooper, as well.’ Madge paused, then added, thoughtfully, ‘Mind you, she’d a look on her face sometimes … like she was feared of something … or somebody, and she jumped a mile when I went to tell her to come in for her supper.’

  ‘You’d make anybody jump, the way you bang about.’ Madge ignored this. ‘She’s bound to feel strange till she gets the hang of things, and she’ll still be grieving for her mother and father. No, you’ve picked up the wrong end of the stick there, Davey. There’s nothing queer about them.’

  When the harvesting began, Sammy was in his element, working even harder, and faster than any of the other men when it came to building the different stacks of wheat and oats. The construction of these was an art for those with experience, building from raised stone foundations so that air could circulate underneath, but he was allowed to help by sending up great forkfuls of the grain to them. So speedily did he work that those engaged in the intricate business of shaping the huge stacks had to tell him to take it easy, and he slowed down obediently, his face one big smile. When he first started working on the farm, he had been the butt of many, at times rather cruel, jokes, but he had taken all the snide remarks with a grin, and, after seeing how well he acquitted himself during the harvest, the majority of his fellow workers had come to respect him.

  Seeing how angry it made him, they had stopped teasing Katie when they were in the kitchen at mealtimes, and, in any case, Susie Clark was a far better target – she more than fulfilled the promise in her shining blue eyes. She was a winsome young girl, her fair curly hair a direct contrast to Katie’s long, wavy brown tresses, and although she was a few months younger than her room-mate, her figure was fully matured. She was out for as much fun in the evenings as the young lads were, romping in the hay with several at a time, giggling in delight when rough hands strayed where they shouldn’t, and finally giving in to one – not always the same one – and going up to the hayloft with him. Those left below passed the time by sniggering and making rather crude comments – some even bragged about their own performance with her – and a great cheer went up when at last the two participants climbed down, dishevelled and flushed, but quite unabashed.

  When Susie discovered that Katie was not conversant with all the facts of life, she had deemed it her duty to teach her, often using humorous, graphic anecdotes she had heard from other girls – which left nothing to the imagination – to explain what took place before, during and after the act of procreation. At first, Katie had been quite shocked, but she had learned to take the stories with a pinch of salt.

  ‘I think the lads put bets on to see who’s going to be lucky wi’ me,’ Susie confided when she came in one night.

  Katie felt obliged to remind her of the risks she ran. ‘If you’re not careful, you’ll land in trouble.’

  ‘I make sure they stop in time,’ Susie giggled. ‘You dinna ken what you’re missing, Katie, you should try it.’

  ‘Not me.’

  ‘Sammy just sits and laughs, but likely he wouldna ken where to put it, any road. Maybe I’d better show him?’

  ‘You leave Sammy alone, Susie!’ Katie snapped.

  ‘Would you be jealous? I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Do you let him … ?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid! He’s my brother! And I’m not jealous, it’s just … you know he’s not quite right, and if you start doing things like that with him, he’d want to do it every night, and he likely wouldn’t stop when you told him.’

  ‘I suppose no’, and I wouldna want a daftie’s bairn.’

  After a short silence, Susie gave a wicked chuckle. ‘But I’ve the feeling he could gi’e me a bigger thrill than ony o’ them, for I’m sure he’s hung like a bull.’

  Katie was outraged at this. She liked Susie, liked the way she could make even Davey Sutherland laugh while he was berating her for something she had forgotten to do, but the housemaid would have her bedfellow to reckon with if she tried to corrupt Sammy. Still, it had likely just been talk. With so many other young men about, Susie couldn’t really want to have anything to do with him.

  After this, Katie, having convinced herself as time went past that this farm was the best refuge she could have, was more conscious of the farm hands, and when they were all gathered round the big table in the kitchen one night at suppertime, she couldn’t help casting her eyes around them. They were all sturdy – men and boys – with red weatherbeaten faces and manners that would have her grandmother tutting in disgust, but their very roughness held an attraction for her. She didn’t want to be like Susie, but it would be nice to have a lad to walk out with.

  Becoming aware that one youth was regarding her with some amusement, she blushed and lowered her head. Lachie Mooney was real nice, with wavy hair the colour of ripe corn, his rugged face tanned a deep bronze, his mouth always turned up in a smile. Glancing up at him again, she found that his keen eyes were still on her and returned his grin shyly.

  Susie nudged her. ‘I think you’ve clicked wi’ Lachie. He’s looking at you like he’d never seen you afore.’

  ‘Is he … has he … ?’ Katie didn’t want Susie to know she was interested in him, but she had to find out. ‘Have you and him ever … you know?’

  ‘Oho! So it’s like that? Well, you’ll maybe nae believe this, but Lachie’s never fell for my charms – and it’s nae for the want of trying.’ Susie let out a doleful sigh. ‘I think he’s had a lang eye after you since he started here.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’

  ‘I’m telling you!’

  Katie wondered what she would do if Lachie ever asked her out. Would she let him kiss her if he tried? She had never been kissed before, not a real kiss, not from somebody so young and handsome.

  When Susie came in that night, Katie said, ‘What’s it like being kissed?’

  The other girl shrieked with laughter. ‘It depends who’s doing the kissing, but it’s best if it’s somebody bigger than you, it spoils it if you’ve to stand on your tippytoes. And aye look first to see if they’ve ony bad teeth, for sure as death they’ll ha’e bad breath. Mind you, kissing some o’ the lads here’s like being sucked inside a tunnel, though they think they’re the bee’s knees.’

  Katie sighed. ‘Have you never kissed somebody you really liked, though?’

  Susie’s face straightened. ‘Aye, I was only thirteen and I loved Matt … my he’rt used to thump like a steam mill when he kissed me … and even though I could hardly thole it the first night he rammed inside me, I let him carry on … till I found out he was a married man, wi’ six bairns and a wife that thought the sun shone out o’ his backside. Oh, Katie, it still hurts.’ After a moment, she threw back her head w
ith a raucous laugh. ‘So you see why I take up wi’ ony man that wants me now, married or single.’

  ‘But all men aren’t the same. You’ll meet somebody decent some day, and you’ll fall in love and wish you hadn’t been so stupid.’

  Susie took some time to answer, then she murmured, ‘Aye, I suppose I’ll never get onybody decent if I go on like that. I could fancy that new lad, Lachie, but he never looks the way o’ me. D’you think he’d take notice o’ me if I stopped my carry-ons?’

  ‘He might. I wouldn’t think any boy would want a lass that lets everybody have their way with her.’

  ‘So you think it’s worth a try? Right! That’s me finished having quick thrills up in the loft.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  On the following evening, Katie couldn’t believe her ears when Susie said she was going over to the bothy. After what she’d said, surely she wasn’t still up to her old tricks?

  Only five minutes later, the girl skipped in again, blonde curls bouncing, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. ‘I told them, Katie! I opened the door and bawled, “As from today, Susie Clark’s bloomers will not be taken down by any hands but her own.” ’

  ‘Good for you!’

  ‘None of them said a word, but you should have seen their faces! I just about pee’d mysel’ laughing. I suppose some o’ them’ll still try it on, but a knee in the knackers’ll stop their capers.’

  They both spluttered with laughter at that.

  In November, the end of the term, Katie and Sammy, like all the other workers at Struieburn Farm, were given their wages – four months for them instead of six, since that was all they were due. Sammy laid his on the table and pushed the coins around with his finger until Katie said, ‘I think I’d better keep them for you, or you’ll be losing them.’

  Watching Sammy handing them over, one of the young men gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘Folk that didna ken better would think you two was man and wife,’ he began, but stopped, colouring, when he caught Madge Sutherland’s stern glare. ‘If you stopped biking to Mintlaw every night and wasting your money on drink, Fobbie Littlejohn,’ she rapped out, ‘you’d have some left at the end of every term, instead of having to sub for weeks from them that’s soft enough to let you. Let Sammy be, he’s more sense in his pinkie than you’ve got in your thick skull.’