Chapter Nineteen
EFFIE
5 January 1931
Lochaline
‘There was no sorrel but I found some nettles,’ Effie called through from the small porch, gently patting her thigh to beckon Slipper and Socks to her side. She walked into the kitchen where Jayne was standing by the stove, the two dogs trotting by her heels. ‘Will that do?’
‘Aye,’ Jayne smiled, taking the bunches from her. ‘We’ll make a chef of you yet.’
‘I hardly think so,’ Effie scoffed, sitting up on the counter beside her and drumming her bare heels against the cupboards. ‘I’m better at the hunting than the gathering.’
‘Talking of gatherings,’ David said, looking up from his spot at the table where he was reading the paper. ‘I was thinking of entering for the Lochaber Gathering in July.’
‘Doing what?’ Effie scoffed. ‘And don’t say tossing the caber, because I’d have a better chance in that than you!’
‘You never give over with your boasting, do you?’ he tutted. ‘You might be strong for your size, Effie, but you’re tiny and relative to me you’re a pipsqueak, so don’t push it.’
‘I’ll arm-wrestle you and we can find out,’ she challenged, her eyes gleaming.
‘Fine!’ he shrugged, unbuttoning his shirt-cuff as she jumped off the counter and sat opposite him on the bench, arm already flexed. The puppies settled themselves by her feet.
Jayne tutted, grinning at their antics as they began to wrestle. ‘You didn’t say what you were going to enter in at the Gathering, David.’
‘Thanks to Effie, butting in—’ he said, as his arm suddenly went down.
‘I win!’ Effie cried.
‘Wait, no! I wasn’t paying attention! I was talking to Jayne!’
‘Too bad.’
‘ That didn’t count,’ he said firmly, getting his arm back in position, his hand ready for her grip. ‘Again.’
Effie beamed. ‘Best out of three. But be prepared to lose.’ She looked into his eyes devilishly as she resumed the position, his hand twice the size of hers.
‘Piping,’ he said as they began to push their palms against one another.
Effie frowned, confused. ‘Eh?’ Her arm went down.
‘I win,’ he grinned.
‘Wait, no!’
‘What? You were distracted?’ he teased.
‘Oof,’ she muttered, eyes narrowed. ‘...Right. Final one.’
‘But you don’t know how to play, do you?’ Jayne asked over her shoulder as they began again.
‘Not yet. But Roddy MacRae has offered to teach me. I came across him mending his chanter reed the other day and we got talking. It’s something that’s always interested me. I love the sound of them.’
‘Aye,’ Jayne agreed. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, the fiddle and Old Fin’s accordion are the sounds of home, but there’s something so haunting about the pipes.’
‘That’s what I think,’ David replied to her without taking his attention off Effie; she was staring into his eyes as if preparing to reach in and pluck out his soul. She was the Effie of old – or desperately longing to be, reviving the version of herself with an unscarred heart – but she could see he was wholly unperturbed by her intensity; she was his little sister in all but name and he was used to her competitive ways. ‘Obviously I wouldn’a be entering with any hopes of winning anything, but it would give me a target, something to strive for.’
‘Don’t be so sure you wouldn’t. I think you’ll be a natural,’ Jayne said.
‘You do?’
‘Aye. You always excel whenever you apply yourself to something. See how well you’ve done with growing the kale this winter?’
Effie’s eyes swivelled between them. Did they even remember she was here, mid-competition? ‘Only because you helped me with the transplanting.’
‘It was you,’ Jayne demurred. ‘You’ve got green fingers – and probably fast nimble pipe-playing ones too.’
Effie saw the smile grow on David’s face at the compliment and knew this was her chance. She went to swoop his arm down suddenly and she was halfway there when he locked back in and froze her attack. She felt her muscles strain as he grinned infuriatingly back at her, their arms at an impasse. His effort level was significantly lower than hers and she realized, for the first time, that he was humouring her. That he could easily win this if he so chose.
Just then she heard the creak of the garden gate, footsteps coming up the path. She saw another expression come into her opponent’s eyes as he glanced over at Jayne, still working quietly by the stove.
Effie took her chance, slamming his hand down upon the table – ‘Yes!’ she cried victoriously, but David didn’t appear even to notice.
The puppies pulled themselves up to sitting position, eyes on the door as Norman appeared a moment later, frowning with displeasure at the curious scene in his kitchen. ‘David, what a surprise to see you here. Again,’ he muttered sarcastically.
‘Evening, Norman,’ David nodded. ‘I was helping Jayne set some mousetraps.’
‘Well, of course. There’s always something she needs help with, isn’t there?’
Effie glanced at David and saw him biting his lip, holding back hot words. It was true he was always over here, but so was she. There was now at least one bicycle per household and all the villagers darted in and out of each other’s homes like dragonflies, just as they had in the old days. Since returning from Skye, she had moved back in with her father to their old cottage down the lane; Sholto had arranged for their possessions to be brought back up to Lochaline and his driver had personally driven her father up here. They were a community once more and it was almost like old times. Almost.
Jayne turned from her position at the stove, her gaze searching for something on Norman. ‘...Did you remember the pork chops?’ she asked.
Norman winced, giving a hiss of irritation. ‘Me?...’
‘Aye, I asked y’ to pick them up on y’ way past this evening.’
‘Why are y’ adding to my list of things to do, woman? You know how busy my days are at the minute! What’s wrong with you getting them?’
Effie flinched. She could see he’d been to the pub after work – everyone knew Norman was the first to the bar and last to leave most evenings – and there was a brazen, eyeballing quality to Norman’s stare that reminded her of Frank Mathieson on the night of the storm. He was unpredictable and belligerent. Slipper, leaning against her right leg, whined softly.
‘Because the butcher explained yesterday there would be a delay with the delivery, and you agreed to pick them up on your way home.’
‘...Well, I was working late. Being Deputy Manager comes with added responsibilities.’
‘I know that, but—’
Effie’s eyes slid over to David – perhaps they should go? – but he was watching the married couple intently. He looked like a cat about to spring.
Jayne sighed. ‘Never mind. I’ve some leftover lamb scrag I can use.’ She turned away.
The air seemed to suck out from the room.
‘Why are y’ so huffy?’ Norman demanded in a low voice, stepping closer so that he was right behind his wife. ‘It’s hardly m’ fault!’
‘I’m not huffy.’ Jayne was standing very still.
‘Well, y’ sound it.’
Effie watched as Jayne slowly turned and forced a smile. ‘...Really, Norman, it’s fine. It’s no bother, I can use the lamb just as easy.’ She wiped her hands on her pinny and put a hand softly on his chest. ‘Why don’t you take a bath? You must be tired after y’ long day.’
He stared at her for a moment, seeing how she wouldn’t rise. He glanced back, as if remembering they had an audience; Effie felt herself shrink a little under his gaze before he gave a huff of irritation, exiting the room with a mutinous look. Norman’s arrival home in the evenings was always her cue to leave and set to preparing dinner for herself and her father. David would usually stay until his mother blew the whistle down the lane, calling him home for his dinner.
There was a small silence, David watching Jayne as if expecting her to fall. She gave another of her weak smiles.
‘It’s been a big step up, moving into management,’ Jayne murmured to them, looking embarrassed by the scene they had just witnessed.
‘Aye, of course,’ Effie nodded quickly. She glanced at David again for agreement but he was silent, staring at his hands on the table, his jaw balling like a pulse.
Effie saw Jayne see it too, watching him with a worried look.
‘...Did I tell you they want him to go on another business trip again soon?’ Jayne asked as she saw Effie watching her.
‘Oh?’
‘The last one went so well—’
‘The one to Skye?’ Effie asked.
‘Aye. They’re talking about Perth this time.’
‘Are they now?’ Effie hadn’t forgotten her shock at seeing Norman in the library at Dunvegan. He had no idea she had been there, of course, and she’d kept her mouth shut, but it had sat in the back of her mind like a worm ever since, curled up and solid, impossible to ignore.
‘What exactly does he do on these trips?’ she asked.
‘Consults with the estate managers, he says. About forest management.’
‘Ah,’ Effie nodded, none the wiser. Did that explain his presence at Dunvegan? He’d been meeting with MacLeod’s estate manager to discuss planting trees, or cutting them down? But even if he had, why had he stolen into the library? She had seen and heard the way he crept about in there: furtive and stealthy. And it wasn’t as if he had been waiting to meet someone there. He’d been in and out within minutes.
‘Which estate in Perth, do you know?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure, he hasn’t said. Probably several.’
Dupplin? Effie wondered. Or Blair Atholl? She wondered how many castles and estates there were in Perthshire. The lairds were all connected to one another, old friends and foes through historic allegiances and rivalries that spanned back through the centuries. Of course, the MacLeods, Hays and Atholls were all in the same circle – but was it just coincidence that Norman should be attending their estates on business, or something more sinister? A deputy manager of the Forestry Commission had no place being in any of their libraries.
Jayne stared down at the bunch of nettles on the counter. ‘These won’t work now; not with lamb,’ she said quietly. She seemed to Effie suddenly very small. ‘I’d best get some rosemary.’
‘I can get it,’ David said, getting up.
‘No,’ Jayne said quickly, stopping him.
‘But—’
‘It’s fine, I’ll go. It might be better if...’ She looked ashamed suddenly. ‘I’m sorry, but it might be better if you aren’t here David, when he comes back down. He’s tired and...’
She looked at him imploringly.
‘...Of course,’ Effie said quickly, seeing Jayne’s embarrassment. ‘I need to be getting back anyway too. Come on, David.’ She jumped up, the dogs too.
But David didn’t move. He was staring at Jayne as if she had just had an argument with him and not her husband.
‘David?’ Effie said, tugging on his arm and having to all but drag him out. ‘...See you tomorrow, Jayne,’ she called over her shoulder.
The garden gate slammed behind them, marking their departure, and Effie looked up at David as they started on their way down the lane. It was dark but they were used to that, their eyes adapting quickly. ‘What was that all about?’ she asked him as they drew away from the cottage, the dogs running ahead.
‘Nothing,’ he muttered sullenly.
‘Well, something’s got your goat. Couldn’t you see poor Jayne was mortified? Sometimes people need their privacy, David.’
‘Privacy?’ he scoffed. ‘Being alone with him is the very last thing she needs.’
‘He’s her husband.’
‘He beats her!’
Effie swallowed, looking back quickly to check Norman hadn’t overheard. ‘...I know, so you said,’ she said in a low voice. It had been a shock when he had confided it to her, after Mhairi had told him on his visit to Oban at Christmas. ‘But if Jayne won’t admit it, then we have to respect her wishes to deal with him her way. You saw her in there just now – she knew exactly how to calm him down.’
‘But what about the times when she can’t? Do we wait until she’s dead, or half dead, before we do anything?’
‘David, I know she’s your friend, but you can’t live in her kitchen just in case it gives you a chance to stop anything.’
He shook his head. ‘How did I never see it for all those years?’ He sounded incredulous. ‘Why did Molly never say?’
‘Perhaps she didn’t know.’
David scoffed again, angrily. ‘She lived in the same house. She knew, Eff.’
‘Well, if she did, she never said anything to me either.’
They were quiet for a bit as they walked, their eyes roaming over the gentle heathered hills. Effie had seen a red stag earlier, forced down from the snowy summits.
‘Well at least she’ll have a few days’ peace if he does go away on another of these business trips.’
‘ Business trips ,’ David muttered sourly, shaking his head and looking away.
She looked up at him sharply. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Surely you’ve heard the rumours about him and Fiona MacDougall?’
‘The blacksmith’s wife?’
‘Aye. The lads in the yard say they’ve been at it for weeks. Supposedly she “visited her sister” the same week Norman went to Skye.’
‘Oh, poor Jayne,’ she whispered, feeling her cheeks burn with shock. Not just beaten but betrayed in every way. ‘And everyone knows?’
‘All but you and her, it seems,’ he said grimly.
They had reached Effie’s cottage now and they stopped at her gate. The light was on in the front room, her father sitting in his chair by the fire, whittling a stick. She turned to look directly at David, recognizing the mulish expression on his handsome face.
‘If you’re thinking of doing what I think you’re thinking...don’t. Don’t tell her.’
‘But if she knew he was humiliating her like this—’
‘It’s none of our business. It’s their marriage. Jayne’s no fool.’
‘No, but she’s naive! And too loyal. She’s too good for him. Even when he beats her black and blue, she defends him! Doesn’t she see she’s protecting him by staying silent?’
Effie put her hands on his arms, seeing his agitation. ‘David, if you want to be her friend, you’ll trust her to do what’s best. She married him for better or for worse.’
‘And she’s got worse than she could have dreamt!’
‘You’ve got to trust her.’
David shook his head. ‘You don’t understand, Eff! He’s a dangerous man. Far more dangerous than you think. It doesn’t stop with wife-beating with him.’
Effie looked at him, alarmed. ‘What do you mean?’ she frowned.
He looked away, raking both hands through his hair, squeezing his elbows in front of his face. What wasn’t he saying?
‘...David?’ she pressed.
He stepped back suddenly. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘No – what did you mean by that? Tell me! David!’ she called as he strode away, arms swinging.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, disappearing into the darkness so that all that remained with Effie was the fading sound of his footsteps and a feeling of dread.