Chapter 19
Dear Fiona,
Instead of telephoning you, I thought I’d write a letter in order to give you time to think about what I’m going to suggest.
First things first, though, Hamilton is going to be all right. He’ll have to take it easy for a few months and Sinnie will make sure that he does. Sinnie is Ham’s wife and will not stand for any jabber from him. In the meantime, Mr. Dexter, Ham’s second in command, will be in charge of the Mill.
I don’t think I’d mentioned to you yet, that the position I hold as managing director of the Veterans Hospice is as a volunteer. That means that I don’t receive a salary. I don’t need a salary, you see. I’m the youngest son of a family who owns two woolen mills in the Scottish Highlands near the Gihon River. I think you knew I was from Scotland. My brother, Hamilton, manages one mill and Woodrow, we call him Woody, is my other brother and he manages the second one. My father was in the Great War with his good friend, Alistair Gregor, and since that time and up to when he died six years ago, he’d helped to financially support the Gregor’s efforts regarding veteran causes. Since his death, those monies have gone into an account that has supported me as managing director of the Hospice. It’s been a long chatter, I know, just to tell you that, though I’m not rich, I have more money than I actually need to pay my bills and such.
Since my arrival here, Mother is loath to let me return to London any time soon. She wants me here through the summer. For that reason, and because I want a camping holiday with you more than anything right now, I was wondering if you would let me fly you into Glasgow airport. I’d pick you up as soon as the plane landed. From there we’d drive to my mother’s home in Lochcorriey. Not far from home are camping places that are too beautiful to describe, lass. My favorite fishing spot is not thirty kilometers from Lochcorriey.
Mother thinks it’s a grand idea and has decided that she and Gus (15) and Tom (12), Ham’s two boys, will be going along with us. It’ll be quite a party.
Please say yes, lass. Call me soon.
Love,
Jordy
PS. There will also be a return ticket to London. You can go home whenever you’d like.
Folding the letter she’d read three times in the last half hour, Fi slid it back into its envelope.
He says he’s not rich, but I think he must be. Only rich people can afford to buy other people airplane tickets to and from Scotland. I like him so much. Why can’t he just be a regular bloke? ‘Cause, regular blokes only see the boobs, dummy. Just for a little while, Richard and Jack saw more ... maybe. And I really think Jordy sees there more to me than a ‘double D’ cup. But, how long will that last?
Wandering about Charlotte’s pretty little sitting room, Fi restlessly tapped the edge of Jordy’s letter against her palm, her brow puckered in thought.
I’ve become a bloody’ coward, that’s what ... a bloody coward. If Ma looked down on me right now, she’d be laughing and saying, “what happened to my wayward girl?” Used to reach for the “brass ring”, I did, but not anymore. Gah! I think I might be lovin’ Jordy. He’s so darn sweet ... doesn’t mind what I’ve done ... doesn’t judge me. He wants me to go camping with his mother and nephews. We’d be well chaperoned, that’s for sure. I’d be an adventure and I’m up for an adventure ... aren’t I?
....
“How wonderful ... a camping holiday in Scotland with Jordy and his family. It sounds quite exciting. I’m so happy to hear that his brother is doing well.” Charlotte passed the salt and pepper to Fiona. Their cook, Mrs. McGillicuddy, was extremely light with the seasonings. The carrots and potatoes were always rather bland and chopped much too roughly ... not like Daisy had taught Charlotte how to do it.
“And, when do you leave?”
“I fly out on Saturday morning ... about 7:30.”
“Must be the same plane our Margaret took last week. Scotland’s suppose to be quite pleasant in the summer, I understand. Better than the hot bloody muck we’re getting here in London. May I have the butter, Charlotte, my dear?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry, Alistair, I wasn’t paying attention.
“Do you need a lift to the airport?”
“Good thinking, my dear.” Alistair beamed. “Victor would fancy any excuse to go a good distance in Jackson’s MG roadster. He’ll tie what suitcases don’t fit in the boot onto the back. If you turn our offer down, Fiona, it’ll break his heart.”
“I’m happy to accept.” Fi was pink with pleasure. “Thank you.”
“We appreciate your coming to dinner this evening, dear Fi. There is a proposal that Alistair and I would like to put before you. But first, there’s a bit of ... what shall I call it, Alistair, dear ... impropriety ... censure ... embarrassment?”
“All of the above, I suppose. How about we just call it an unfortunate family concern.”
“Perfect, my darling.” Charlotte smiled warmly at her husband.
“There is an unfortunate family concern we must tell you about in the strictest confidence, of course.”
Fi was at sea. What could they possibly be talking about? “Please tell me ... I’d never share a confidence.”
Between them, Alistair and Charlotte told Fiona all about Margaret’s secret ‘enfant de amour’ as well as what had recently occurred in Sto’ven Scotland. Having halted the story when Polly came to clear away the remains of the main course, they continued ‘sotto voice’ through dessert and coffee.
“Young Elspeth is apparently desperate to keep her baby and Margaret wants to help her as much as she can without telling the Munro’s her suspicions about the girl’s parentage. Duff has emphasized to Margaret that the girl must be told that she should not subject her child to being branded a bastard. There’s been quite a to-do, as you have probably guessed.
“What we propose is that Elspeth be allowed to stay in Hamblin House with you until the babe is born, which should be somewhere near the end of January. Margaret will move back into Richard’s room during those months and will take full responsibility for the girl’s care. We decided on Hamblin House as opposed to Hill Manse because Duff and Alistair use the Manse for entertaining, as you know, especially throughout the holiday season. Unfortunately, it is likely that any extra staff hired on at the Manse could stir up gossip.
“What do you think about this plan, my dear?”
Fi was momentarily stunned ... at a loss as to what she should say. At this juncture, Ma would have sagely decreed, “There but for the grace of God, go you, Fiona Mariah Dunne.”
A pregnant teenager and a hovering Margaret would surely fill up the place. The peace and serenity of Hamblin House would be no more. Well, not for a few months, anyway.
“What? Oh, yes ... What do I think? Well, I think it’s a clearly thought out plan. The girl, Elspeth, right? Hopefully, she will put thought to what is best for her child.”
...
“You want to take her to London to live with you? Why would you do such a thing? Exclaimed Judith, her heart filled with hope as she reached for her husband’s hand.
“Although it’s a more than generous offer, Miss Gregor, I am as confused as Judy. Why?”
Hunter and Judith had the day previously returned from a three-day honeymoon when Margaret approached them with ‘the plan’.
“Judith is my friend”, Margaret began, “and I’m concerned about the dilemma in which you find yourselves. I’m especially concerned about Elspeth. I knew a young girl many years ago ... she was very close to me, who experienced what your daughter is going through. She was distraught with worry and shame and was forced from her family during her pregnancy and the baby taken from her within minutes of its birth. This woman lives with the trauma of that horrible episode to this day.
If your daughter were given some time to decide for herself what was best for her child ... was able to talk to a counselor ... continue her schooling with a tutor ... she might surprise you with her decision. I certainly cannot promise you the perfect outcome, but at least we would have given it our best attempt. And, if at all possible, please don’t let Elspeth believe you are ashamed of her. Shame is a hideous feeling.”
“You are an answer to prayer, Miss Gregor, and I will not look a gift horse in the mouth ... not meaning in any way that you’re a horse, of course you’re not. Sorry, Miss, I’m mind-boggled, to be sure.”
“Margaret, thank you ... thank you. You are so wonderful to think of this.”
Hunter Munro wrapped an arm around his new bride and gave her a squeeze. Nodding his head toward Margaret he said, “You’ve a bonny friend there, Judy ... a bonny friend.” We’ll be paying for her board and the tutoring. It’s important that she finishes her schooling. I’ll talk to her mother ... we’ll each send you some money every month. Although her mother and I are terribly disappointed and hurt about what she did and how she’s been behaving toward us, we’ll write to her often, and make sure she knows we love her and are not ashamed of her”
No comments:
Post a Comment