A Schoolmistress at War by Eileen Ramsay

Author:Eileen Ramsay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction

19

KIRSTY WATCHED AND WAITED FOR a letter, but none came. She tried to hide her growing despair from Jessie and from her class. From them too, she had to hide her pregnancy. If only it wasn’t accompanied by this awful morning sickness . . . but at least by the time she had reached school her stomach was behaving itself again.

The papers talked of a great battle at Loos and of a piper in one of the Scottish regiments who held onto his battle honours and, despite his wounds, refused to let them droop in the mud. Later they reported the death of one Captain Hugh Granville-Baker.

But before that day Kirsty saw the flag and understood. The caretaker, Wilson, with tears streaming down his old cheeks, had found a flag and flown it from the ramparts of the castle to honour a boy he scarcely knew.

Kirsty’s first feelings were not of grief, or fear. They would come later. She felt peaceful. He was dead; he hadn’t ignored her, denied her. She turned in at the gates that old Wilson had not yet thought to close and made her way to the Dell. For a moment she thought she saw a figure sitting on the fallen tree where they had picnicked, but October was too cold for picnics. A strong wind was blowing the leaves from the trees and they were dancing on the ground. There was someone there. It couldn’t be. It was: it was a soldier. Hugh. She could see him clearly and she began to run. The figure turned, saw her and stood up. He smiled and held out his hands. She heard his voice, his dear, dear voice.

‘I waited as I promised. Goodbye, my dearest little love.’

She stopped. The Dell was empty. ‘Oh, Hugh.’ And then the tears came, at first for him, for the young life cut off before its prime, and then for herself, and at last for the child who would never know its father, but who should know only shame.

‘I’ll never be ashamed, Hugh, never, and neither will he. He’ll be loved, I promise, loved and cherished.’ She lay on the tree trunk and cried for all the unfulfilled promise.

‘Kirsty, Kirsty, get up. You’re freezing.’

She looked up at Jamie and realized that there was no need to tell him anything. He knew.

‘I’ve been sent to close the gates – the estate’s in mourning. I’ll have to put you out, lass, or you’ll spend a cold night in the wood.’

She walked quietly beside him to the gates and stood waiting as he locked them and pocketed the key.

‘I’ll walk you home.’

She drew herself up, dignified, proud. ‘I’m fine, Jamie, and I’d rather be alone, if you don’t mind. But can you tell me when it happened?’

‘Her ladyship didn’t tell us the exact date. I don’t think she knows. Some awful battle that’s been going on for weeks: Loos, they called it.’

‘I should have known. Goodbye, Jamie.’

He watched her go and then ran after her. ‘I’ll not intrude on your grief, lass, but I’m here, Kirsty, if I can do anything.

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