The Legacy of Lochandee by Gwen Kirkwood Page A

s-sorry, Nick,’ she said in a small, wistful voice. ‘I’m sorry if I’m a disappointment to you …’
    â€˜No.’ He drew another deep breath. ‘No, you won’t be a disappointment when we’re married. There’s shy you are underneath, that’s all. I should have known better and a car isn’t the right place for our first time. There’s carried away, I was.’ He sighed heavily. ‘But Bridie … we’d be safe, you know. We don’t need to take any chances about making babies if that’s all that worries you. I could send away for some French letters if … well, if you’d let me then …?’
    â€˜French letters?’ Bridie was totally confused. ‘Why are you changing the subject? Are you drunk, Nick?’
    â€˜No, I … You’ve never heard of French letters? Duw, I was thinking there’s not a single girl left in this country who hasn’t heard of them – not since the war.’
    â€˜Well, I haven’t. What …?’
    â€˜Don’t you girls talk about anything except recipes and clothing coupons? Fiona hasn’t lived all her life in a little village. What does she talk about, I wonder …’ It was not a question. Bridie heard exasperation in his voice. Their glorious evening was beginning to turn into a miserable fiasco. She had failed Nick and she didn’t know what to do about it. ‘Oh forget it!’ He opened the car door and grabbed the starting handle.
    After Nick had dropped Bridie off at the farm, he drove back to the flat but he sat for a long time in the car, pondering the events of the evening. He did love her. He’d been attracted to her since she was no more than 15 – the first time he came to Lochandee with Conan. He had heard her sing at the village concert – A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square – and he knew he would never forget her. Like most of the young men who had known they could die tomorrow, he had taken his pleasures if it suited him, but ever since he had known Bridie returned his feelings he’d remained faithful to her. Surely it was only her sheltered upbringing that was holding her back? He had rarely smoked since he was demobbed but he wished he’d had a cigarette now. He’d heard some of the men in the forces talking about frigid wives. He’d often thought they were making excuses for their infidelities, but now he wondered. Surely Bridie wouldn’t turn out to be cold and unresponsive? Nick knew his Celtic breeding could never stand such a punishment. Everything about Bridie was soft and warm and caring. He shook himself. He’d drunk too much wine and it had depressed him. He dragged himself out of the car and went inside.
    Back at Lochandee, Bridie did not sleep well. She felt young and gauche and ignorant of the world beyond Lochandee. She knew Nick had been disappointed tonight. Moreover, alone in the darkness of the night, reality returned and she couldn’t dispel her misgivings at the prospect of moving to the new house which so excited him. It would go ahead quickly now. She ought to be overjoyed. Nick had even changed the site in the hope of making her happy, or so she believed, but she could not share his enthusiasm when it meant leaving Glens of Lochandee.
    Two evenings later she cycled down to see Fiona, who seemed to have settled quickly into her new home. She was surprised to see Beth there too, quite at home sitting on one side of the fire.
    â€˜Harry is listening to Lucy playing her accordion pieces,’ she said. ‘She just loves that noisy old thing, and Harry dotes on every tune she plays for him. Then they’re going to have a game of draughts, so I thought I’d just leave them to it and pop across here.’
    â€˜Beth brought me one of her apple pies,’ Fiona said with a smile at Bridie. ‘I’m going to get fat at this rate.