him. We were all so terrified of him. Many
believed that the Kinnairds were descendants of the
devil himself. They were all so uptight and vicious looking. And of course, Mr.
Clement Kinnaird’s spade beard didn’t help alleviate the rumours at all. But
no, the Kinnairds never mingled with anyone except
when there was a charity ball or a dinner function. Even so, Mr. Kinnaird’s
voice would barrage at the butlers and maids for being late or clumsy. As for
the little Kinnairds , we rarely did see them. They
were privately tutored unlike most of us who attended public schools. Oh, we,
children, shook in our shoes if we ever did step in grandfather Kinnaird’s
path.
Well, one fine day,
I, along with my friends, helped our mothers sell cake and pies to raise funds
for our church. For our good efforts we were rewarded with a couple of pennies.
We thought we were rich. A penny could get us a lot in those days. We put
together our hard earned money and discovered we had a half-shilling in total.
So there we were, four little girls, rushing up to Portree General Store run by Mr. Andrew McDonald to buy ourselves candies. I had my
eyes set on the Chocolate Swirl, a beautiful swirl of milk chocolate with a malt
nougat centre on a stick.” She sighed. “ Ahh , but it
cost threepence a stick. Seeing my sad face, my friends offered to part with
half of what we earned to make me happy.
I can still remember
how extremely elated I was when Mr. McDonald handed me over the Swirl. As I
skipped out, licking deliciously at my candy, someone bumped into me so hard, I
dropped my precious stick of candy into the dirt. I looked up disappointedly
and found Mr. Clement Kinnaird scowling at me.
“Watch where you’re
going, child!” he berated. He pushed me roughly aside and walked on without a
care in the world.
I was seething with
rage. I didn’t care any longer that it was Clement Kinnaird, the man almost all
of Skye feared. All I wanted was revenge for my soiled Chocolate Swirl.
Now Mr. Kinnaird was
the old fashioned sort who still preferred to ride his buggy around the island.
With what money we
did have left, and much against the advice of my friends, I bought six raw eggs
and hid it under the thin blanket that Mr. Kinnaird kept in the box seat of his
buggy. Not long after, Mr. Kinnaird walked over with thunderous and angry
strides. As expected, he hopped into his buggy and sat heavily down on the
hidden eggs.
“ Arrr !”
he growled, throwing down the reins angrily. He looked around and saw us
watching him from the veranda of a store. Of the four that stood there, I had
the widest grin. So it wasn’t surprising that he had guessed instantly who dared
to play such a trick on him. His trouser dripping with egg yolk, he sprinted
after us. We ran, but my short legs were no match for him.
He held me by the
scruff of my dress collar and shook me. “Did you do this?” he boomed. “Oh, you
must have, you little rascal!”
I shook violently,
trying to loosen his hand on me. I was lucky that day because someone called
out just then for the old man and I used the opportunity to free myself.
“I’ll get you, you
little rascal!” he shouted angrily. “I will get you one day!”
Oh, how I shook with
fright that day. Even as I slammed my bedroom door behind me, I still felt he
would be coming around the corner to catch me. I was so afraid that my parents
would sell me out to him because of all the power the man had.”
“Well, did he?” Emma
asked curiously and absolutely intrigued. “Did he catch you?”
Ethel smiled. “Yes,
he did. Ten years later, when I turned eighteen years old. Apparently I
discovered that I was one of those rare ones who ever did stand up to him. I
supposed I created a lasting impression on him for my brawny ways. He convinced
young Arthur that I would might just be the right bride for him.”
Emma stared at her
open-mouthed, in disbelief. “Really?”
Ethel chuckled. “ Ahh …those were the days,”
believed that the Kinnairds were descendants of the
devil himself. They were all so uptight and vicious looking. And of course, Mr.
Clement Kinnaird’s spade beard didn’t help alleviate the rumours at all. But
no, the Kinnairds never mingled with anyone except
when there was a charity ball or a dinner function. Even so, Mr. Kinnaird’s
voice would barrage at the butlers and maids for being late or clumsy. As for
the little Kinnairds , we rarely did see them. They
were privately tutored unlike most of us who attended public schools. Oh, we,
children, shook in our shoes if we ever did step in grandfather Kinnaird’s
path.
Well, one fine day,
I, along with my friends, helped our mothers sell cake and pies to raise funds
for our church. For our good efforts we were rewarded with a couple of pennies.
We thought we were rich. A penny could get us a lot in those days. We put
together our hard earned money and discovered we had a half-shilling in total.
So there we were, four little girls, rushing up to Portree General Store run by Mr. Andrew McDonald to buy ourselves candies. I had my
eyes set on the Chocolate Swirl, a beautiful swirl of milk chocolate with a malt
nougat centre on a stick.” She sighed. “ Ahh , but it
cost threepence a stick. Seeing my sad face, my friends offered to part with
half of what we earned to make me happy.
I can still remember
how extremely elated I was when Mr. McDonald handed me over the Swirl. As I
skipped out, licking deliciously at my candy, someone bumped into me so hard, I
dropped my precious stick of candy into the dirt. I looked up disappointedly
and found Mr. Clement Kinnaird scowling at me.
“Watch where you’re
going, child!” he berated. He pushed me roughly aside and walked on without a
care in the world.
I was seething with
rage. I didn’t care any longer that it was Clement Kinnaird, the man almost all
of Skye feared. All I wanted was revenge for my soiled Chocolate Swirl.
Now Mr. Kinnaird was
the old fashioned sort who still preferred to ride his buggy around the island.
With what money we
did have left, and much against the advice of my friends, I bought six raw eggs
and hid it under the thin blanket that Mr. Kinnaird kept in the box seat of his
buggy. Not long after, Mr. Kinnaird walked over with thunderous and angry
strides. As expected, he hopped into his buggy and sat heavily down on the
hidden eggs.
“ Arrr !”
he growled, throwing down the reins angrily. He looked around and saw us
watching him from the veranda of a store. Of the four that stood there, I had
the widest grin. So it wasn’t surprising that he had guessed instantly who dared
to play such a trick on him. His trouser dripping with egg yolk, he sprinted
after us. We ran, but my short legs were no match for him.
He held me by the
scruff of my dress collar and shook me. “Did you do this?” he boomed. “Oh, you
must have, you little rascal!”
I shook violently,
trying to loosen his hand on me. I was lucky that day because someone called
out just then for the old man and I used the opportunity to free myself.
“I’ll get you, you
little rascal!” he shouted angrily. “I will get you one day!”
Oh, how I shook with
fright that day. Even as I slammed my bedroom door behind me, I still felt he
would be coming around the corner to catch me. I was so afraid that my parents
would sell me out to him because of all the power the man had.”
“Well, did he?” Emma
asked curiously and absolutely intrigued. “Did he catch you?”
Ethel smiled. “Yes,
he did. Ten years later, when I turned eighteen years old. Apparently I
discovered that I was one of those rare ones who ever did stand up to him. I
supposed I created a lasting impression on him for my brawny ways. He convinced
young Arthur that I would might just be the right bride for him.”
Emma stared at her
open-mouthed, in disbelief. “Really?”
Ethel chuckled. “ Ahh …those were the days,”
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