When Fate Dictates

  Having prepared the birds and rabbit, and put them on to cook, we took the waste out onto the hills. “Simon, will you slow down?” I shouted, as he strode ahead of Duncan and me, “Little legs back here,” I reminded him playfully, as we sprinted to catch him up.

  We carried on walking till we reached the top of the hill and Simon dropped the waste from the pheasants and rabbits for the crows.

  “Come on then you two, that stew should be just about ready, let’s get back to the cottage,” he said a few hours later, lifting an exhausted Duncan onto his shoulders.

  That night, when Duncan had eaten his meal, we tucked him up on his new straw mattress, covered him with a quilt and watched as he fell fast asleep.

  “Well, I would say that we have one very tired little boy there,” I whispered, not wanting to wake the child.

  “It’s the walk and the good food that makes a child sleep so well,” he replied, putting his arm around me, “It does a pretty good job of making an adult sleepy too,” he said, yawning widely.

  “Shall we turn in?” I asked, kissing him gently on the cheek.

  “Aye, in a bit,” he replied, reaching across to his flask.

  “It is nice to have a home again,” I whispered softly. “Thank you, Simon, and I am sorry I was so ungrateful at first.”

  “There is a lot of work to do on this cottage yet,” he said, taking a long sip of the contents of the flask and offered it to me.

  “What do you mean? I think it’s fine now that it is clean and we have a fire going.”

  “Aye, lass but we are vulnerable here,” he said, running his fingers along the flat end of his dirk.

  “Vulnerable?” I said, taken off guard, “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Corran,” he said, trying to brush the comment aside.

  “Simon, are we in danger?”

  He shook his head, his eyes drifting downwards to where his hands were now idly sharpening the dirk.

  “No, lass, we are not in danger, only it is too late in the season to be thinking about planting, the ground is not ready, so if I don’t use this time to do up the cottage then what will I do for the next few months?”

  “How long do you think this work will take?” I asked, still not convinced that he was being entirely honest with me.

  “I will have it done before the winter.”

  “That is very soon, Simon, why the rush?”

  “No rush, I just want it done before the winter snows come in.”

  “I will go into town tomorrow and see about material.”

  “Corran, come here will you?” Simon called from the kitchen one evening.

  I was upstairs with Duncan, putting clean bed sheets on his bed.

  “Come on Duncan, daddy wants us; we can come back and finish your room later.” The little boy raced down the stairs ahead of me and into the kitchen.

  “What took you so long?” Simon teased, as I finally caught Duncan up.

  I scowled, unimpressed with his comment. “Do you know I have yet to make up our bed, finish Duncan’s room, fix something for everyone to eat and light the fires in the bedrooms? I’ve too much to do Simon, is this important?”

  “I just want a few minutes with you Corran. I have something I need to show you. Can you take Duncan back upstairs? I don’t want him to see this.”

  “Come on Duncan,” I sighed, taking the little boy by the hand, “let’s go and find your blocks.”

  Eventually, having settled Duncan in his room with his carved wooden animals and blocks, I returned to the kitchen.

  “Right, Duncan is settled. What is it that you need to show me?” I said, watching Simon with suspicion as he locked the front door and closed the shutters in the kitchen.

  “You see this pole,” he said, pointing toward a long wooden pole propped up against the kitchen wall, “you must never move it from this place.”

  I frowned. “That is just ridiculous Simon, you are being silly. Why would we need to leave a wooden pole in the kitchen? And for that matter, why have you locked the front door and closed the shutters?”

  “I mean it Corran, this is not a joke. It must be here at all times and I will show you why,” he said, reaching for the pole. In one fluid movement he hoisted it toward the ceiling. A hatch fell open and a rope ladder descended from the hole. I stared in stunned amazement as the ladder swayed in front of me.

  “Simon you are scaring me. What is all this for?”

  “Go up the ladder.” he ordered.

  “Tell me why? Then I will,” I said, feeling very uneasy.

  “Just do it woman, we don’t have time to mess around. Duncan will be looking for us soon and I need you to go up the ladder. Just do it, will you!”

  His tone was urgent and fretful, his movements jumpy and erratic, and quite frankly it was worth going up the ladder just to calm him down.

  “Alright Simon, I’ll go up.” Reaching for the rope ladder I carefully put my foot on the first rung. I steadied myself and climbed to the top, pulling myself through the hole in the ceiling. I barely had time to comprehend where I was before I heard Simon calling me from below. I put my head back through the hole.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Here take the pole,” he said, pushing it toward me. I grabbed it and drew it up through the hole. Within seconds, he was kneeling beside me, hoisting the ladder up and reaching for the hatch.

  “Simon, this is a whole new room. What is going on and why did you never tell me about it?”

  Heaving the trapdoor shut and sliding the pole through some brackets on top of it, he settled beside me on the wooden floor.

  “This is why I needed to get the cottage extended. No one must ever know that this room exists,” he pointed to the wall. “You see Corran? Behind there is where Duncan’s room is, and here,” he said, pointing to an adjacent inside wall, “behind that is the spare room. There is no access to this room from upstairs. I have built no door to it. From the kitchen the ceiling appears seamless, but bang it in the right place and the hatch will drop along with the ladder, that is, as long as this pole is not fixed in these brackets here,” he finished.

  “But why would we need such a room and what does it have to do with us leaving the cottage? I don’t understand Simon.”

  “Look out of that window Corran. You see the hills?”

  “Aye, I do,” I said, wondering what else he expected me to see around here.

  “Those are the hills over which the Red Coats travel when they move from Edinburgh to England. From here we will see them coming for miles.”

  “So you think they will come then?” I asked, quietly, afraid to say the words.

  “Aye Corran, they will come, but as I said the night I brought you here. They will come for our cattle, not us. However it won’t do us any harm to be prepared.”

  “Simon we don’t have any cattle yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter Corran. They will come looking whether we have any or not.”

  “What will happen if you are not in the house when they come, Simon?”

  “Then you must bring Duncan into this room. I will take care of myself.”

  “Simon, the stag will not save you a second time from a bullet.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, Corran. You can be fairly sure that I have no wish to be shot again. You need not worry on that account. I have made a safe shelter in the woods for the men working on the farm. But we could all use it if we ever needed it. I saw to its making a few days after we arrived here. If the army comes and we are not able to get back to the house then the shelter is where we will go.”

  “You are frightening me Simon.”

  “I don’t mean to scare you lass but you need to know of this room. If I am not here one day and you and Duncan are in danger, I need to know you will be safe.”

  “Speaking of Duncan, I think we should go back to him. Those toys won’t entertain him forever,” I said, imagining with horror the chaos a toddler was capable of causing
if left unattended.

  “Do you need me to bring some wood in from the store for the fires?” Simon asked, once we were back in the kitchen.

  “Yes please. I need to get Duncan’s bed made so that he can go to sleep. It is getting late for him to still be up.”

  “Simon, I have been thinking about the wood store. Four poles and a thatch roof are not going to keep the wood dry when the heavy snows come. Perhaps we should think about enclosing it?”

  “You are right lass, and I have considered it already. I am planning to put a shelter off the kitchen where we can store the fuel for the fires but I need to get the hay barn up first.”

  There was a banging on the kitchen door and a little voice called from behind it. “Momma?”

  “I am coming Duncan,” I called, reaching for the door handle and opening the door.

  “Duncan tired Momma, Duncan go bed now?” he said, reaching his little arms toward me. I bent and lifted him up, planting a loving kiss on his podgy cheek as I did so.

  “What about your dinner Duncan?” Simon said.

  “Duncan not hungry. Duncan wants to go to bed.”

  “Well then Duncan, let’s go and get that bed ready and you into it. You had a good meal earlier, I am sure you won’t die of starvation before the morning,” I said, lifting him into my arms.

  “I’ll bring some wood up to the lad’s room.” Simon said, heading for the front door.

  “Thank you. You can say his prayers with him tonight if you wish.” I offered.

  “Aye, that would be good Corran, I would like that,” he replied.

  I had not yet finished dressing the little boy when Simon arrived at Duncan’s bedroom door, arms filled with logs. Duncan bounced and wriggled on the bed as I tried to pull his nightshirt on. “Simon, seeing as you are here, please help me dress our son?”

  He lowered the logs onto the hearth and moved toward Duncan’s bed.

  “Come here you little beast!” Simon said, lifting the child off the bed and holding him still long enough to allow me to pull the gown over his head.

  “Keep him there for me Simon; I have his stockings to get on yet,” I said, grabbing for the tiny pair of white knitted stockings on the chest of drawers next to the bed.

  “Right, done it!” I exclaimed triumphantly.

  “It’s easier to hold on to a trout than this chap,” Simon said, releasing Duncan, who immediately sprung back into jumping on the new straw mattress. His little giggles were infectious and soon both Simon and I were playing along with him, laughing and pretending to tickle him. Eventually, when I could laugh no more, I took firm hold of Duncan, pulled the quilt back and tucked him firmly in the bed.

  “Now, Duncan, time for bed. You told mummy and daddy that you were tired. You must go to sleep. It is late and mummy and daddy are tired too. Come little man, daddy will say your prayers with you and I will light a nice warm fire for you. God bless little one, I love you very much, sweet dreams,” I said, planting an affectionate kiss on his forehead and moving toward the hearth.

  Later that night Simon and I stood outside the front door looking up at the sky. Sprinkles of starlight glistened in the pitch black of the sky. “Thank you Simon,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

  “What for?” he asked.

  “For bringing us here... for everything Simon, thank you. I love you.”

  “It is my pleasure Corran, and I love you too,” he said, slipping his arm around me.

  “Just look at the sky. It never looked like that in York,” I said, gazing at the millions of stars that twinkled above us.

  “It didn’t, you are right,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Does it remind you of the glen?” he asked.

  “Aye, it does, Simon, even the air reminds me of my village,” I paused, smelling the sweet fresh breeze.

  “The air is cold tonight,” I said, drawing my shawl tighter around me.

  “Aye Corran, it is. The wind comes in from the north east; let’s hope it doesn’t bring us any snow tonight.”

  I cast my head toward the sky again. “There isn’t a cloud to be seen for miles. It won’t snow tonight.”

  “Mmm, let’s hope not,” he replied, his tone edged with concern.

  It would seem that Simon had been right, for when we woke the following morning, it was to a carpet of thick, even snow. That beautiful clear evening sky had turned to a thick, dull gray haze that hung heavily above us. We stood at the door and watched as a curtain of snow poured down in front of us.

  “Looks like you were right,” I said, turning to face my husband.

  He nodded grimly, “Aye, and I would rather not have been. The horses won’t fend too well in this and I see we have three sheep in the paddock. What am I to do with them?”

  “Sheep?” I said with surprise. “What are three sheep doing in the paddock?”

  “I have no idea Corran but they have wandered into my paddock and that makes them my responsibility.”

  “Do you think the snow will last for long?” I asked.

  “I do,” he said grimly, pulling on his boots. “It always does when it comes in from the north.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked, as he reached across my head and retrieved his coat off the hook.

  “Going to take at look those sheep, and whilst I am there, raise the men and see if we can make something suitable for the horses to shelter in.”

  “But Simon you will hardly be able to see your hand in front of your face out there and the wind is blowing a gale. Surely it would be better to sit the storm out and then deal with the animals?”

  “I am not about to let those creatures die because I did nothing. The men and animals are my responsibility and yes, it will be dangerous out there but if we lose the horses we will all be in trouble. We are most likely cut off already but with the horses and a sledge I could get through to the town. It could be months before this clears and we don’t have enough food or fuel to see us that far; a few weeks perhaps, but not months.”

  “Is none of the wood you cut any good for fuel?”

  “No, it will be another eighteen months of drying before that wood can be used. We will need to buy all our fuel in this winter. The snow has come too early and if we don’t get to the town soon, then I doubt there will be any dry wood to be bought. We won’t be the only ones in need of it.”

  He pulled his coat around him, bent to kiss my forehead and made his way through the front door.

  ******

  CHAPTER 20

  He was right, it did continue to snow for many more months and it was not until the end of April that we finally said goodbye to the wicked winter weather. Four men and their families stayed with us through that winter. Duncan grew so much; I hardly recognized him as the same little boy with whom we had fled York.

  Bizarrely, he had a look of Simon about him. The blond hair with which he had been born had become slightly copper in color and his eyes had deepened to a beautiful sparkling blue. Simon, by contrast, had smoldering dark brown eyes, so dark that at times they appeared black as pitch. His features were the complete opposite of Duncan’s. Yet still I saw it; a look, a manner, I could not say for sure, but in that little boy I saw my husband. Reason told me it could not be. We had found the baby abandoned, orphaned on the banks of the river in York. His mother most likely a prostitute, his father probably some passing solider or merchant. Logically, I reasoned that it had to be down to nurture that the boy resembled his adoptive father.

  But one day, in mid July whilst the men and Simon were in the fields, Duncan and I packed up a picnic and took it out to them. I watched Simon as he worked. The way he moved, the way he stood, the way he walked, was so much like the little boy. The men heard us coming and downed their tools, walking over to us with great smiles of welcome. I handed out the bread and cheese and passed each of them a mug of ale that they accepted gleefully. Duncan chased after them as they grabbed bales of hay on which to sit. Simon sat on the grass next to me, his long power
ful legs stretched lazily in front of him. He reached for a large lump of cheese and his mug of ale.

  “Simon, can I ask you something?” I said, wondering as I did, exactly how I was supposed to say what I was thinking.

  He nodded his mouth full of ale.

  “You know Duncan?” I began.

  He nearly choked on the ale as he let out a loud robust laugh.

  “Of course I know the lad Corran... he is our son,” he stammered, still choking through his laughter. “Do you think I have taken leave of my senses and forgotten who my family are?”

  I shook my head. “No Simon. I just have something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Well, talk away then lass,” he said, swallowing his mouthful.

  “Have you ever noticed how much like you Duncan is?” I said.

  He looked blankly across at me, his eyes confused. “Well no, I can’t really say as I have, Corran. He copies me, as any child would do their parent, but I am not his natural father and you know that. His hair is copper and his eyes are blue. He is not my natural son and you know that. What has put all this nonsense in your head?”

  “I know that he is not your son Simon but I don’t understand why he has a look of you. I can’t explain it either.”

  “I think that you have spent too much time in the sun Corran. This is just fanciful nonsense. We both know this boy was an orphan until you found him. You are not his natural mother and I am not his natural father, it would...”

  “Sir, sir... ” Hamish, the youngest of the lads working for Simon came panting up toward us.

  “Calm yourself man,” said Simon.

  “Sir, it’s... it’s... soldiers. I saw them over the hills, they are heading this way.”

  Simon sprang up from the ground, waving his arms and shouting frantically to get the attention of the other workers.

  “Stay here Corran, I am going for Duncan.” Turning to face Hamish he said, “Get the men to the place I showed you and do it now.”