The Legacy of Lochandee (5 page)

‘Yes, it puts the asking price well out of his reach. Anyway he has no use for the big house or the park land. If he had that kind of money to spare it would be a better investment to build a new house and farm buildings in the middle of the Nether Rullion land.'

‘Yes … I see … Look, I know this is none of my business, but the Maxwells are good friends and I'd like to help if I can. The family you sent to look at my mother's house … are they fixed up yet?'

‘No, not a hope! There's nothing on my books that would suit them.'

‘Well, if the sale of my mother's house goes through to Mr and Mrs Woods – as you seem to be expecting …?'

‘Oh I am. We're almost ready to sign if you can give an entry date. They have three teenage sons and a married daughter with twins. They think it's ideal.'

‘Good. When I get the money for it I could loan Mr Maxwell the extra he needs to clinch the deal for Nether Rullion, including the big house but …' she held up her hand to silence Jordon Niven's objections. ‘Please let me finish. I'm not silly about these matters. It would have to be a legal arrangement, and only if – a very big if – you can sell the Mansion House for Mr Maxwell to the clients you sent to me.' Jordon Niven stared at her while the words registered, his eyes widening as understanding dawned.

‘Fiona, you're a genius! Why hadn't I thought of that? Do you think they would be interested?'

‘I don't know. I've never seen the Mansion House, but your clients wanted more rooms and more ground than I had. We would need to be pretty sure they would buy, before we encouraged Mr Maxwell to buy the whole lot. I'd hate him to be left with a white elephant and a debt he can't afford.'

‘Mmm … Your training in big business has given you a different outlook on things. Not many farmers would have thought of taking out a loan to buy the Glens of Lochandee when Mr Maxwell did it. He's done well, but any business we discuss in this office is confidential, remember.'

‘Of course. You don't need to tell me that, Mr Niven,' Fiona said stiffly.

‘No, no, I can see you're a professional. I think I will ask Mr Maxwell to procure the keys to the Mansion House. We'll arrange to take a look and show my clients as well. I don't want the Brigadier's solicitor to get wind of our plans though or he would probably do the deal himself and still charge the Maxwells more than necessary. There's always been a bit of rivalry between our two firms, so I wouldn't mind getting one up.' He grinned disarmingly and winked at Fiona.

‘Never trust a lawyer, eh!' she smiled wryly.

‘You know, Fiona Sinclair, you're a very attractive young woman when you smile so beguilingly. I was a little bit afraid of the serious Miss Sinclair who first came to my office a few weeks ago …'

‘Afraid! A-ha, you can tell that to the Marines!'

Later that evening, when Fiona had time to mull over their discussion, she was filled with anxiety. Suppose Bridie's family were let down at the last minute, if the sale of the Mansion House fell through? It would be all her fault. She was so worried she called Bridie and arranged to meet the following evening.

‘Don't worry,' Bridie told her. ‘Dad is old enough to weigh up the risks and he would never think you were interfering if you help him get what he wants. Why don't you come to supper tomorrow evening and you can explain your idea to him – but don't mention that the temporary loan would be coming from you. Just tell him Mr Niven can arrange it. My father and Nick are so proud and independent; they need their heads banged together!'

Rachel could see how eager Ross was to go ahead with the purchase of Nether Rullion and it worried her.

‘Don't hold me back, Rachel,' he pleaded. ‘We've always done things together and we may never get another chance to buy a farm for Ewan. We shall certainly never get the opportunity to buy as sitting tenants again.'

‘That's true.'

‘We managed to pay off the loan for Glens of Lochandee, and there were no guaranteed prices or markets then.'

‘But we were younger. We worked so hard.'

‘I'm only 46! I don't feel old. Besides, Ewan is keen to farm and it won't be long before he's ready to work. Anyway, I don't think it's the Brigadier's daughter who is pushing us to the limit; I reckon it's her solicitor. The better the price the more he gets himself.'

‘It's not just the money and another bank loan which worries me. How will you manage to run both farms without Bridie?'

‘Oh, I'm sure she'll come back as often as she can.'

‘In the beginning maybe, but not once they have children, Ross. It wouldn't be possible – or fair to Nick.'

‘No-o.' Ross frowned. ‘Do you think she'll be happy, even with Nick? She's never been away from her cows and calves. The farm …?'

‘I don't know. I think it has to be her decision though. Much as I love the farm and our animals, I'd have gone to the end of the world for you when we were young.' She dimpled up at him and Ross hugged her close.

‘Only when we were young?' he chuckled. ‘Not any more?'

‘Go on with you!' Rachel laughed. ‘You're just fishing.'

Jordon Niven had got his teeth into the deals over Nether Rullion and the Mansion House. He felt a need to prove himself both to Fiona Sinclair and to the rival firm of solicitors. He was 90 per cent certain now that he could sell the Mansion and parkland to his clients. That in itself would be a good bit of business. If he could knock a few hundred off the land for the Maxwells while they were doing the deal that would please him even more.

Even so, he was astonished when the other solicitor readily accepted his offer for the whole property. Almost before the deeds were drawn up and signed he began negotiating the sale of the Mansion House. He dare not take any chances with this sale falling through.

Chapter Five

R
ACHEL TRIED TO BE
happy for Ross over the purchase of Nether Rullion, but in her heart she was filled with anxiety. The debts and risks seemed far greater now than when they had staked everything they had to buy, and to keep, the Glens of Lochandee. There was so much more to lose now, and a grown family to consider. She sensed Bridie was not happy with the changes taking place in her own life either, and Rachel longed for all those she loved to be happy and content.

‘It's not just moving away to live beside the garage,' Bridie confided when her mother brought up the subject. ‘I'm proud of Dad and all the improvements he makes, but now that he's the owner of Nether Rullion he'll never stop until he gets everything the way he thinks it should be. The buildings must have been neglected for years before he even heard of the farm, but he thinks they should be improved instantly now they belong to him. All his time and money will be spent at Nether Rullion now.'

‘But that's what has earned him so much respect from neighbouring farmers, dear,' Rachel defended, while secretly agreeing with her daughter.

‘I know, and I'm proud of him too, Mum, but have you considered who will see to the dairy herd when I move to the garage with Nick? Sandy Kidd and Bill Carr are both good men, but they're general workers and they're getting older. So is Dad.' Suddenly she couldn't repress a shudder. She couldn't imagine life without her beloved father.

‘We all miss Alfie,' Rachel sighed. ‘He may have had half the wits of a normal man but he possessed twice the strength and he was so willing.'

‘Poor Alfie, he was so loyal to Glens of Lochandee, and all of us who belonged here. There's one consolation though: he would have hated to die anywhere else. Aunt Alice said he was born at Glens of Lochandee and she hoped he would stay here until he died, and he did.'

‘Yes, and I believe he was happy in his own way,' Rachel nodded.

‘Do you think Dad will try to hire another man now that he has two farms to run?'

‘I don't know,' Rachel said doubtfully. ‘He did buy a second tractor to help with the work.'

‘Machines are splendid for some things but they can't tend to the animals,' Bridie responded crisply, indicating her own tension and anxiety far more clearly than any arguments.

Nick was growing more and more impatient and he often misinterpreted Bridie's silence when he tried to discuss their future.

‘Changed your mind about marrying me, have you, Bridie? Now it is I would like to know, not when I've bought the plot of land. Any day now I shall be hearing if I am allowed to build there.'

‘You know I want to marry you, Nick …'

‘I know, do I? But …?' His voice was cool. ‘Your doubts and reservations I can hear in your voice, Bridie.' He watched her chewing worriedly at her lower lip and he longed to seize her and kiss away all her doubts and fears. Bridie couldn't bring herself to tell him she hated the thought of leaving Lochandee and her beloved animals. Nick had already guessed and it angered him. He wanted to be the centre of her universe. He wanted them to work together as her parents had done.

Recently he and Conan had installed a petrol pump and sales were good. They often needed an extra pair of hands to attend to customers when he and Conan were busy, or called out to a breakdown. Then there were accounts to send out and bills to pay, and neither of them liked the paperwork. Conan did not like the repairs to farm machinery either, yet he had to admit they were making a useful contribution to their profit and Nick refused to turn away trade. They had bought a reconditioned army lorry and he made deliveries of feed, lime, fencing posts, logs, and anything else which came their way. He enjoyed exploring the local countryside and getting to know the farms.

Conan still hankered after buses and he, or Harry Mason, now spent most weekends ferrying small parties of people to the shore in the summer or to dances, concerts, and occasionally to the theatre in the winter.

Even Jordon Niven was surprised at how quickly and smoothly the dealings over Nether Rullion had gone through. The resale of the Mansion House followed on without a hitch, and both he and Fiona breathed a sigh of relief when only the delivery of the deeds remained.

Ross Maxwell had trusted them to make the best deal possible on his behalf, but he was surprised and delighted with the final settlement. He found himself £750 better off than he had expected, and the new owners of RullionMansion seemed highly satisfied with their acquisition. They had even asked his advice on the management of the parkland for their ponies.

*      *      *

It was the beginning of March when Mr Matthew Murray arrived to advise Fiona on the disposal of her parents' furniture. Conan had arranged for him to stay the night at Glens of Lochandee and Rachel liked him at once. He was slightly built and his face was kind and sensitive.

‘I think he's a very genuine person,' she whispered to Ross as they lay side by side in the darkness. ‘I feel so sorry for him losing both of his sons during the war. He says his wife scarcely leaves the house now, but he feels her sister encourages her to stay in, instead of getting out and meeting people.'

‘Aye,' Ross agreed softly, drawing her closer. ‘We've a lot to be thankful for. Is Bridie taking Mr Murray down to Fiona's tomorrow?'

‘Yes, so I've asked him if he would like to stay an extra night, now that he is here. He has agreed, so either Conan or Nick will show him around the district after he has finished at Fiona's, then they are all coming back here for supper. He thanked me so nicely for making Mark welcome, when he used to come on leave with Conan and Nick.'

Later the following evening, as they all sat around the large dining table, Matthew Murray told them it had been an enjoyable and worthwhile visit. He beamed at Fiona.

‘You hang on to some of those smaller pieces, young lady, especially the jade and your father's chess set. By the time you're as old as I am, I guarantee they'll be worth four times as much as they are now. I agree it would be easier if you can dispose of some of the large items locally but I will send you a reliable dealer to see the rest. I promise you he'll offer a fair price. Mind you …' he turned to smile at Rachel, ‘it's a long time since I saw anything as rare, or as valuable, as the vase you have sitting on your mantelshelf there.' He nodded towards the high dining room fireplace. I was having a good look at it while you were bringing in the meal.'

‘My old vase?' Rachel blinked in surprise.

‘Old vase – well, yes, it's that all right. I trust you have it insured?'

‘Insured?' Rachel laughed. ‘Of course not. It was a gift from an old lady of 90 who I knew when I – when I was a girl …' She looked to Ross at the other end of the table. Those far-off days seemed like another lifetime. ‘It-it was her greatest treasure.'

‘Yes, I can believe that. How did it come into her possession?'

‘The vase had been a wedding gift to her grandmother I think, from the Laird – her employer. She loved the unusual shape and the blue blossom. She knew I liked it too.'

‘Yes, it is unusual and I believe the initials S above the J and F are those of the potter. If I'm right it would be made about 1750 …'

‘As old as that!' Rachel gasped.

‘If I'm right,' Mr Murray repeated cautiously. ‘During the war part of the Liverpool city museum was bombed. Among the treasures which were destroyed was a mug with the name Thomas Fazakerley on it. The bright colours used on the mug often appear on Liverpool delft, but there are only photographs now to remind us of what became known as the “Fazakerley palette”, you see.'

‘I-I had no idea …'

‘It is fortunate then that the vase is still in such excellent condition. If ever you want to sell it I suggest you take it, in person, to one of the London auction houses. There is great interest in work attributable to specific potters. Even though money is not so plentiful since the war, there are, at the moment, two wealthy collectors who will go to enormous lengths to secure a desirable piece such as yours. At a guess, I'd say you would get at least a thousand pounds for it – maybe even twice that if there are two collectors bidding against each other.'

‘What?' Rachel's eyes and mouth were round with shock. ‘I-I don't believe it …' Her face had gone quite pale and the young folk were all staring from her to Mr Murray.

‘A lot of “ifs”, of course.' He smiled ruefully and broke the tension. They all began to talk at once but Rachel's mind was travelling back through the years. Minnie Ferguson had taken her under her wing when she was eight years old, after the death of her mother. She had passed on many of her skills until her father had died when she was almost 16. It was then she had gone to live with the Maxwells. She shuddered, recalling Gertrude Maxwell's bitter resentment at being forced to take her in. She remembered the day she had received the black-edged letter informing her of Minnie's death, and the news that she had left her the vase.

‘Much good an old thing like that will do you!' Mistress Maxwell had sneered. ‘A few sovereigns would have been more use.' Rachel raised her eyes and met Ross's down the length of the dining table. She knew he was recalling the bitter woman who had resented both of them and done her best to keep them apart. She came out of her reverie to hear Fiona speaking.

‘It's time I was going home,' she said, feeling the family might want to discuss the discovery of the vase without her.

‘I'll give you a lift home,' Nick offered.

Conan frowned at him. ‘I'll take her. It's time I was going anyway, and I expect you and Bridie have plenty to talk about – as usual.' He pushed back his chair and as he passed Bridie he gave her a brotherly thump. ‘For goodness sake, send him home a bit more cheerful tonight. If that's what being in love does to a man, I thank God I'm immune.'

‘Don't you be so sure you are,' Ross warned. ‘And give Nick and Bridie time to work out their own problems. Everybody gets them sometime or other.'

‘They do indeed,' Mr Murray agreed with a sigh. ‘But the love of a good woman is one of the greatest gifts a man can have.'

‘Aye,' Ross winked at Rachel, ‘I'll agree to that anytime.'

Conan looked from his father to his mother, saw her pink cheeks and snorted. Surely his parents were too old to be flirting – and in public too.

‘If you're ready, Fiona?' His voice was more abrupt than he intended.

‘I'm sure Bridie will take me home if it's a trouble to you,' she said stiffly.

‘It's not a trouble or I wouldn't have offered. You said you were ready to leave, and so am I.'

‘Very well.'

‘He hasn't changed since he was the bossy Head Boy on the school bus, has he?' Bridie grinned.

‘No, not that I've noticed, anyway.' Fiona stood up with a wry grimace for Bridie.

‘Are you sure you want a lift, Miss Sinclair?'

‘I shall be with you just as soon as I have thanked your parents and Mr Murray,' Fiona told him calmly. ‘I'm sure even you wouldn't wish me to forget my manners, Conan …'

‘Of course not,' he muttered, aware of the amused glance which had passed between his parents, not to mention Nick's knowing grin. Even young Ewan, who had been half-asleep, was regarding him curiously with his head on one side. He scowled and bid them all a general goodnight. As he passed Mr Murray, he stopped and shook the older man's hand, thanked him for coming and wished him a safe journey home. There was genuine respect and sympathy in his gaze as their eyes met. There was no need for words. They were both remembering Mark, full of regrets that he was not with them tonight.

When he had left the room Mr Murray turned to Rachel.

‘Your son is a fine young man. You will be proud of his success one day, because that is what he means to be – a success in his own chosen field. Right now he seems to have a need to prove himself …'

‘Like father, like son,' Rachel agreed.

‘Yes, maybe it is inherited, the yearning to do well. I know Mark had a great respect for Conan, as did the rest of the crew. They knew they could depend on him …'

Nick sat up straight, suddenly alert. Did Mr Murray think Conan was in some way responsible for Mark's death? They might have their differences over the garage business, but Nick knew he would defend Conan to the last over anything to do with their time together in the RAF.

Mr Murray sighed and went on. ‘I knew after Bobby was killed that Mark cared less for his own life. They were identical twins, you know. They did everything together …'

‘Yes,' Rachel said gently. She laid a comforting hand on his arm. ‘It would have been dreadful to lose one son, but to lose them both …' She trembled at the thought. Mr Murray patted her hand.

‘We were not alone. War is a cruel thing and there were whole families wiped out. We must be thankful that we are alive and can live in a free country.'

Quietly Bridie pushed back her chair and gently took Ewan's arm. He was almost asleep.

‘I'll see him to bed,' she nodded at her mother.

‘And I'll read him a bedtime story,' Nick volunteered, seizing the opportunity to spend a little of the evening alone with Bridie while their elders talked of times past.

Ewan no longer needed bedtime stories. He could read his own, but he was asleep almost before he tumbled into bed. Nick seized Bridie around her waist and drew her close as soon as they were alone together in the warm kitchen.

‘I can't wait for us to be married, Bridie,' he whispered into the soft hollow of her throat. ‘Soft as silk your skin is …' He felt her trembling response. He knew she loved him almost as much as he loved her, but he was still afraid he might lose her. ‘Expect to get permission to build our house, I do, in a couple of weeks. Your father's land it is now. I shall have to buy the ground from him.' He felt Bridie stiffen slightly in his arms. ‘All this,' he waved a hand towards the window and the farmyard beyond, ‘means so much to you, I know, bach. But us, together, alone … There's all I want, see.' His voice was tense, his dark eyes penetrating. ‘Not to share you with your family, not all the time. Can you understand that?'