Beeching cuts, years ago, and the village itself would soon be as good as dead; with nobody there but noisy Americans swaggering about as though they’d owned the place since the year dot.
Alice was drying the breakfast dishes when she heard the postman’s knock, and hastily laid down the towel. Geordie Forbes didn’t believe in simply pushing letters through letterboxes, for he liked to pick up any gossip available at each house on his round.
‘Well, well, then, Mrs Murchie,’ he observed as she opened the door, making her smile, because he’d called her by her Christian name for years. ‘It’s a grand day - in more ways than one.’ He held up a long, brown, official-looking envelope. ‘Is Archie about?’
‘He’s out with the dog.’ Alice didn’t mention their destination in case he laughed, for most folk knew it was a sore point with her.
‘Oh, well. I’d have liked to see how he took it, but never mind. It’s good news I’m delivering this day. It’s from a firm of solicitors in Edinburgh, telling all the laird’s tenants their houses are safe.’ Since he had discussed the contents several times with earlier recipients, he was well informed. ‘He’s not selling unless the buyer agrees we’re left where we are. I’m telling you, that’s a load off a lot o’ folks’ minds, for they were worried sick at reading that bit in yesterday’s Observer.’
‘Oh. Geordie,’ Alice breathed as soon as she could get a word in. ‘I’m right pleased to hear this. I was that sorry for Archie. He never got a wink o’ sleep last night for worrying what would happen to us.’
‘I noticed he was terrible upset when I saw him yesterday morning. If I was you, I’d give him this as quick as I could …’
Grabbing her coat from its peg and the envelope from the man’s hand, she pushed past him and set off as fast as her rheumaticky legs would carry her to pass on the good news.
Once again, Archie had the awful feeling that, far from giving him guidance, the arches were unfriendly, even menacing, although the sun was shining on them. There would be no peace for him here; no solution to clear his agonised mind. He’d have to do what he’d made up his mind to do.
Walking under the bridge, he carried on along the road until he came to a gate in the field, then lifted the bar and walked back across the grassy incline up to the railway tracks. The steep embankment was quite a struggle for him, and when he reached the top he had to stand a few minutes to get his breath back before he bent to go under the wire fence.
After waiting a few more seconds until the pain in his lungs eased, he walked on to the viaduct. He hadn’t been up here since he was a youth, coming for the sheer excitement of facing the danger his mother had always warned him about, and had forgotten that this high vantage point afforded such a beautiful view of the village and surrounding countryside. In spite of everything, he felt more at ease; there was something about this wonder of Victorian engineering that gave him strength and courage … courage to do what, though? He couldn’t remember now what he had planned in the early hours of the morning.
He couldn’t face leaving his cottage, though Alice didn’t seem to mind. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t need a new house at all. She could go and live with her widowed sister in Aberdeen; they’d be company for each other. His thoughts paused there. Yes, that was what he had decided to do.
He clambered up on the parapet to look down at the road below. It was quite a distance, but if he closed his eyes he could forget all his worries. Holding up his head, he felt the keen wind in his face - for the last time. It was better this way, far better, and it would be all over in no time at all.
He suddenly became aware of a calling voice that was invading his consciousness and tried to shut it out. But no matter how hard he fought against it, it kept on. ‘Archie! Archie!
Alice was drying the breakfast dishes when she heard the postman’s knock, and hastily laid down the towel. Geordie Forbes didn’t believe in simply pushing letters through letterboxes, for he liked to pick up any gossip available at each house on his round.
‘Well, well, then, Mrs Murchie,’ he observed as she opened the door, making her smile, because he’d called her by her Christian name for years. ‘It’s a grand day - in more ways than one.’ He held up a long, brown, official-looking envelope. ‘Is Archie about?’
‘He’s out with the dog.’ Alice didn’t mention their destination in case he laughed, for most folk knew it was a sore point with her.
‘Oh, well. I’d have liked to see how he took it, but never mind. It’s good news I’m delivering this day. It’s from a firm of solicitors in Edinburgh, telling all the laird’s tenants their houses are safe.’ Since he had discussed the contents several times with earlier recipients, he was well informed. ‘He’s not selling unless the buyer agrees we’re left where we are. I’m telling you, that’s a load off a lot o’ folks’ minds, for they were worried sick at reading that bit in yesterday’s Observer.’
‘Oh. Geordie,’ Alice breathed as soon as she could get a word in. ‘I’m right pleased to hear this. I was that sorry for Archie. He never got a wink o’ sleep last night for worrying what would happen to us.’
‘I noticed he was terrible upset when I saw him yesterday morning. If I was you, I’d give him this as quick as I could …’
Grabbing her coat from its peg and the envelope from the man’s hand, she pushed past him and set off as fast as her rheumaticky legs would carry her to pass on the good news.
Once again, Archie had the awful feeling that, far from giving him guidance, the arches were unfriendly, even menacing, although the sun was shining on them. There would be no peace for him here; no solution to clear his agonised mind. He’d have to do what he’d made up his mind to do.
Walking under the bridge, he carried on along the road until he came to a gate in the field, then lifted the bar and walked back across the grassy incline up to the railway tracks. The steep embankment was quite a struggle for him, and when he reached the top he had to stand a few minutes to get his breath back before he bent to go under the wire fence.
After waiting a few more seconds until the pain in his lungs eased, he walked on to the viaduct. He hadn’t been up here since he was a youth, coming for the sheer excitement of facing the danger his mother had always warned him about, and had forgotten that this high vantage point afforded such a beautiful view of the village and surrounding countryside. In spite of everything, he felt more at ease; there was something about this wonder of Victorian engineering that gave him strength and courage … courage to do what, though? He couldn’t remember now what he had planned in the early hours of the morning.
He couldn’t face leaving his cottage, though Alice didn’t seem to mind. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t need a new house at all. She could go and live with her widowed sister in Aberdeen; they’d be company for each other. His thoughts paused there. Yes, that was what he had decided to do.
He clambered up on the parapet to look down at the road below. It was quite a distance, but if he closed his eyes he could forget all his worries. Holding up his head, he felt the keen wind in his face - for the last time. It was better this way, far better, and it would be all over in no time at all.
He suddenly became aware of a calling voice that was invading his consciousness and tried to shut it out. But no matter how hard he fought against it, it kept on. ‘Archie! Archie!
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