Chapter 2

The mud slithered through Jeannie’s toes. She tentatively dug deeper and wriggled them in an effort to detect stones and the precious mussels that clung to their surface. Ma always managed to fill her creel with mussels, so Jeannie knew she wouldn’t be pleased with today’s harvest that barely covered the bottom of her murlin basket.

‘There’ll be no mussels today,’ Jeannie had heard her ma say that morning. Jeannie knew she should not have come to the back-sands on her own. But she also knew that Da couldn’t fish tomorrow if there were no mussels to bait the lines, and Ma had been so busy she had not even noticed Jeannie leave.

Solemnly she studied the bottom of the basket hoping the mussels would magically increase, but nothing magic ever happened to Jeannie, and the weight of her responsibilities pressed down on her young shoulders. The other bairns didn’t seem to be worrying, but it did not matter so much to them, because they knew there would be mussels in plenty to bait their father’s lines. There would be few mussels for her da’s lines because her ma was at home waiting for the birthing of Belle’s bairn.

Jeannie knew that if she could get further out on to the back-sands where the mussel beds were thick, she would have filled her basket. She looked with envy at the women already turning to wade back to the shore, and knew by the angle of their shoulders that they had managed to fill their creels.

The first of the women passed her singing out as she went, ‘Back to the shore you, young uns. Tide’s coming in.’

Jeannie dug her toes stubbornly into the mud. There must be some more mussels somewhere. But if there were, the women would not have had to wade so far out into the tidal waters of the basin. Her eyes stung but she refused to cry. Jeannie had not cried since she was five, and now she was a grown up seven it wouldn’t do to let anyone see tears.

Davie appeared at her side with a splash, ‘Come on, Jeannie, tide’s coming in fast, and Ma would give me what for if I took you home drowned.’

‘You might have helped me with the mussels,’ Jeannie glared at her older brother.

‘Menfolk don’t gather mussels,’ Davie stretched his twelve years old body as tall as it would go. He smirked down at his sister. ‘That’s women’s work.’

The two children glared at each other, Jeannie, small and thin for her age, and Davie, already showing signs of becoming a tall man. Jeannie was the first to turn her eyes away. She did not like to fight with her brother and did not like it when Davie’s eyes lost their usual laughter.

‘Anyways, you could have helped, just this once,’ she muttered, turning to wade to the shore. Staggering slightly she held her skirts higher to avoid the gathering waves.

Davie grasped her thin arm. ‘Come on, before you sail down the river,’ and making sure she did not stumble, led her to the shore.

The women, already walking towards the village, strode out with manly steps despite their wet skirts. Jeannie was not sure how they managed it because the sogginess of her skirt kept catching her legs and slowing her down.

‘Cheer up,’ Davie tramped along at her side. ‘Ma’ll be too busy helping Belle birth the bairn she won’t notice there’s hardly any mussels, and by the time she does I’ll make sure your murlin’s full.’

Jeannie did not bother to ask him how he would manage that, but she reckoned some of the other baskets might be slightly less full. It wasn’t right some of the things Davie got up to, but she would not refuse the extra mussels, for Ma’s displeasure was dreaded by all her children.

‘D’you think the bairn’s born yet, Davie?’

‘How should I know? That’s women’s business.’ Davie lengthened his stride. ‘Anyway I expect it is,’ he added.

Jeannie giggled. Davie often imitated his older brothers in his efforts to appear a man. ‘D’you like Belle?’ she asked, and watched with interest as a blush stained Davie’s neck and spread to his face.

‘She’s all right,’ he mumbled.

‘Ma doesn’t like her.’ Jeannie hesitated, not sure whether she should or shouldn’t like Belle, just because Ma didn’t like her.

‘Ma wouldn’t like anybody who’d taken her Jimmie away from her.’

‘That’s not true, she wanted Jimmie to marry Ellen Bruce,’ Jeannie nodded in the direction of the group of younger women just in front of them. ‘I heard her say so.’

‘She only wanted that so Jimmie could get a share in the Bruce boat, anyways Belle’s a lot prettier than Ellen.’

‘See, I knew you liked Belle,’ Jeannie skipped out of the way of the hand that Davie aimed at her head. Hoisting her damp skirt up to her knees, she ran to the top of the grassy bank where she could see straight down the river and out to sea.

The mud flats were now completely under water as the tide raced in. Jeannie shivered to think that only minutes before she had been gathering mussels where now there was only water. The village lay before her, small and constrained by the cliff that rose behind it, the sun dappling the faces of the cottages that sat in its lap. She tried to pick out her ma’s house, but they all looked the same at this distance. Shading her eyes with her hand, for the sun was high in the sky, she looked beyond the small huddle of whitewashed cottages to the river mouth.

‘The boats should be coming back now the tide’s on the turn,’ Jeannie lowered her hand and turned to look at her brother. ‘Jimmie’ll be anxious to know if he’s a da yet.’

‘They’ll not come back until they’re full of fish, no bairn’s worth an empty boat. Besides Ma would give them what for if they came back without a catch.’

‘You’re right, Davie, I suppose I just wished they’d come home.’ Jeannie started to walk down the path towards the cottages, ‘At least we can see if Belle’s had her bairn yet.’

# # #