garden, but it was locked behind iron gates. I would have liked to climb over the fence, sit for a while and talk. It was like a Garden of Eden, full of growing things, but he didn’t want to stop. ‘I don’t want to discuss it,’ he muttered. ‘They are just misguided, self-serving plebeians afraid to shake the status quo. They won’t count for anything at the end of the day.’
We walked towards Charing Cross station and I tried to put my arm through his as we reached the Scottish Home Rule Association, but he shrugged me off and took the five steps up to the door in a single bound.
Jeff left me sitting in the kitchen while he went off with a Mr Lamont to discuss whether the SNP petition should demand amnesty for himself as well as Douglas, but in the end they decided it was not a good idea. ‘Douglas is a figurehead,’ Mr Lamont explained as they came back through. ‘Adding other names would only muddy the water. I have to ask you to suffer your jail term quietly. I secretly fear that MacGilvray might be right that conscientious objection in the membership might hinder, rather than help, the cause of nationalism.’
‘MacGilvray was a fool to divide the Party,’ said Jeff. ‘The new Scottish Convention is just a distraction.’
‘Still the same cause, Jeff.’
I dried the cup I had used and hung up the dish towel. Someone had embroidered it with thistles. ‘Why can’t you help my husband, Mr Lamont?’ I asked. ‘How will I survive in a war without him?’
‘Not now, Agnes,’ said Jeff. ‘I can ask the Edinburgh University branch of the SNP for support. I believe they are going to campaign for Douglas for Rector, so they must be pretty active.’
‘Never say never,’ laughed Mr Lamont. He helped me into my coat and shook Jeff’s hand. He bowed to me. ‘Although I am not in complete agreement with your husband’s particular stand, you should be proud of him, Mrs McCaffrey. In his way he is fighting a different kind of war on behalf of all Scots. Some wrongs need to be righted, we’re just not all able to agree on when or how.’
‘But we have had peace with England since 1707, Mr Lamont. My father said they lent us money. Doesn’t that count for something?’
Jeff looked over at me as if I was a mental defective short of a bed, but Mr Lamont said, ‘An unequal partnership does not make a happy marriage, Mrs McCaffrey.’
‘That is enough, Agnes,’ said Jeff, opening the front door before I could say anything else. ‘We’ll be late for our train. Good day to you, Mr Lamont.’
When he turned to me in the street he looked like he hated me. ‘Do you think I went through that tribunal for fun? Do you think I have nothing better to do than sit in prison? My work for the Party is important.’
‘I didn’t mean…’
‘You undermined me with your pro-Unionist comment. We were standing in the middle of the Scottish Home Rule Association in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘I do support you. I am here, amn’t I?’ I tried to take his arm. ‘But you must admit we haven’t been sneaking across the border to steal each other’s cows since the Union.’
‘That is typical of you – take the simple view. Reduce everything to the farmyard.’
‘You have a very low opinion of me.’
‘I judge as I find,’ said Jeff, and walked off.
‘I know enough to know you are trying to plant in the wrong season,’ I shouted after him, but he didn’t turn round. I watched him go. The rain crept under my collar in thin, cold lines and ran down my back. I followed him as best I could to Queen Street station but I lost my way at the end of Sauchiehall Street. A woman directed me to the side entrance and I found Jeff at the barrier, urging me to hurry up.
‘We’ll miss the train, Agnes,’ he shouted, and I ran across the concourse. He caught my arm as I slipped on the wet surface of the platform, and opened the door of the last carriage just as it began to pull out. The guard blew his
We walked towards Charing Cross station and I tried to put my arm through his as we reached the Scottish Home Rule Association, but he shrugged me off and took the five steps up to the door in a single bound.
Jeff left me sitting in the kitchen while he went off with a Mr Lamont to discuss whether the SNP petition should demand amnesty for himself as well as Douglas, but in the end they decided it was not a good idea. ‘Douglas is a figurehead,’ Mr Lamont explained as they came back through. ‘Adding other names would only muddy the water. I have to ask you to suffer your jail term quietly. I secretly fear that MacGilvray might be right that conscientious objection in the membership might hinder, rather than help, the cause of nationalism.’
‘MacGilvray was a fool to divide the Party,’ said Jeff. ‘The new Scottish Convention is just a distraction.’
‘Still the same cause, Jeff.’
I dried the cup I had used and hung up the dish towel. Someone had embroidered it with thistles. ‘Why can’t you help my husband, Mr Lamont?’ I asked. ‘How will I survive in a war without him?’
‘Not now, Agnes,’ said Jeff. ‘I can ask the Edinburgh University branch of the SNP for support. I believe they are going to campaign for Douglas for Rector, so they must be pretty active.’
‘Never say never,’ laughed Mr Lamont. He helped me into my coat and shook Jeff’s hand. He bowed to me. ‘Although I am not in complete agreement with your husband’s particular stand, you should be proud of him, Mrs McCaffrey. In his way he is fighting a different kind of war on behalf of all Scots. Some wrongs need to be righted, we’re just not all able to agree on when or how.’
‘But we have had peace with England since 1707, Mr Lamont. My father said they lent us money. Doesn’t that count for something?’
Jeff looked over at me as if I was a mental defective short of a bed, but Mr Lamont said, ‘An unequal partnership does not make a happy marriage, Mrs McCaffrey.’
‘That is enough, Agnes,’ said Jeff, opening the front door before I could say anything else. ‘We’ll be late for our train. Good day to you, Mr Lamont.’
When he turned to me in the street he looked like he hated me. ‘Do you think I went through that tribunal for fun? Do you think I have nothing better to do than sit in prison? My work for the Party is important.’
‘I didn’t mean…’
‘You undermined me with your pro-Unionist comment. We were standing in the middle of the Scottish Home Rule Association in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘I do support you. I am here, amn’t I?’ I tried to take his arm. ‘But you must admit we haven’t been sneaking across the border to steal each other’s cows since the Union.’
‘That is typical of you – take the simple view. Reduce everything to the farmyard.’
‘You have a very low opinion of me.’
‘I judge as I find,’ said Jeff, and walked off.
‘I know enough to know you are trying to plant in the wrong season,’ I shouted after him, but he didn’t turn round. I watched him go. The rain crept under my collar in thin, cold lines and ran down my back. I followed him as best I could to Queen Street station but I lost my way at the end of Sauchiehall Street. A woman directed me to the side entrance and I found Jeff at the barrier, urging me to hurry up.
‘We’ll miss the train, Agnes,’ he shouted, and I ran across the concourse. He caught my arm as I slipped on the wet surface of the platform, and opened the door of the last carriage just as it began to pull out. The guard blew his
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