calloused.
Oh, God, she thought, in anguish, if he were Doddie she would be in the bed beside him like a shot, but she was tied to this ugly brute of a man for the rest of her life â or his â and she would have to try to forget the magic of Doddieâs kisses, as she would have to try to forget the manner of Jamieâs death. She was absolutely positive that she would never forget either the boy himself â or the man she loved.
Chapter Seven
âThe new packman should be here the morn,â Jess observed.
Mysie nodded. âI wonder what like heâll be?â
âHeâs bound to be younger than Jockie,â Jess grinned, âbut mind you, Jockie was a fine auld man â never a bad word to say aboot onybody. Thereâs nae mony folk like that nooadays.â
âNo, anâ he could makâ you feel as though you was his maist important customer.â
âI used to be sorry I couldna buy mair fae him,â Jess said, pensively, âbut he kenât I hadna the bawbees.â
âAye, he never tried to makâ you buy ony mair than you asked. I aye took him in anâ giâed him a cup oâ tea, should I dae that wiâ the new man?â
âYouâre auld enough to makâ up your ain mind aboot him when he comes.â Knowing Mysieâs vulnerability with young men, Jess issued a warning. âI wouldna giâe him ower muckle rope to start wiâ, if I was you, though. Itâs best to go canny.â
Remembering that it was on the day of Jockieâs last visit that the tragedy had occurred, Jess wished with all her being that she hadnât brought up the subject, for Mysie hadnât got over Jamieâs death yet. Sheâd carried on bravely from the day after the funeral, but her heart hadnât been in what she was doing, poor soul. It was really a good thing that it would be a new packman, for it wouldnât remind her so much.
Standing up, she said, âIâll need to be awaâ. See you the morn.â She had never missed a day going to Rowanbrae for the past three months, no matter how busy she was, and knew that her friend depended on her visits.
After Jess left, Mysie rinsed out the cups, thanking God once again for their friendship, deeper than ever since that awful day. She was gradually coming to terms with her loss, though she would never get over it completely, and the mention of the new packman had kindled her interest. In fact, she realised in some surprise, she felt quite excited about it, and she would likely have a big disappointment when she saw him. Even if he was young, he might be fat and greasy and sweaty and she just hated sweaty men. Sweat from hard work was a different thing. Jeems often came home sweating, but after he washed, he wasnât so bad, and Doddie Wilson had been sweating when heâd danced with her, but his sweat smelt different from Jeemsâs â sweeter, more manly. But she hadnât seen Doddie since the meal and ale four months ago, and there seemed little chance of ever seeing him again.
Sandy came home then, putting Doddie out of her mind, even making her forget her speculations about the new packman. He went straight to the pantry. âCan I haâe a scone anâ butter, Mam? Iâm that hungry I could eat a â¦â
âYouâll get your supper in a wee while, just go anâ change your claes, thatâll takâ your mind aff your belly.â
âItâll nae dae that.â But he did as he was told, and was back in the kitchen with his old clothes on by the time Jeems came in. âWe got muppelication the day,â Sandy announced, when they were sitting round the table. âI canna makâ heads or tails oât, anâ Meldie was raginâ me â¦â
Jeems scowled. âThe manâs nameâs Mr Meldrum.â
âI ken, anâ I put my tongue oot at him anâ he saw me anâ
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