Rain was hurtling across the moors in wild gusts, borne on the gales that had started in the early hours and were now rattling slates and finding gaps in the ill-fitting windows and doors of the cottage. None of the family had slept well. Douglas McColl had that look on his face that kept Alan silent at breakfast.
As Tam opened the door, he heard his father’s voice raised in irritation.
‘Where’s that boy? I give him the responsibility of going to market and he can’t even get up in time.’
The door slammed shut and Tam entered in a rush of cold air.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. Rivulets of waxy water ran from his jacket. He nudged his shoulders out of it and hung it over a chair. His father grunted and swallowed another mouthful of tea. Tam sat down at the table and nodded to his brother sitting opposite.
‘You ken what I told you about market.’ His father shot Tam a glance. ‘Don’t pay over the odds for the ewes. And I only want half a dozen, so don’t go buying any more than that.’
‘I ken what you told me.’
‘And take the old sheep trailer. You can learn to handle that one safely before I let you have the other. When you’re as good with it as Alan, I might think again.’
‘It’s out, Father. That’s what I’ve been doing… hitching the old trailer to Holly. She’s tied up ready outside.’ Tam struggled to keep the irritation out of his voice. He stared down at the table, frowning. Annie the maid, who had been helping out ever since Douglas began to realise how much the cottage was lacking the care and attention of his wife, placed a plate of porridge in front of him. He thanked her and began to eat.
No one looking now at the two young men sitting opposite one another at the table would think them brothers. Tam was stocky and of medium height. Beneath dark brown unruly hair his eyebrows formed an almost unbroken line that exaggerated his persistent frown. Anyone fortunate enough to get a glimpse of his eyes would see that they were blue, but such a sight was rare. He usually kept his gaze averted.
Alan McColl, two years his senior, was strikingly good-looking. Nearly six feet tall, his body managed to combine slimness and strength. His features were more delicate, his hair light brown and with a pleasing curl. His eyes, unlike his brother’s, were brown. Strange that this should be so, Tam had thought more than once, because Alan was always his father’s blue-eyed boy.
It was Alan who could be relied on, Alan who was given the responsibility… and Alan who received the praise. To make things worse, Alan always accepted his father’s partiality, without stopping to think that it might be unfair.
Maybe his brother was better than him. Though Tam couldn’t see it himself. They both worked long hours and they seemed to get the same results. Tam had to acknowledge, though, that Alan was much the better-looking of the two of them and much more successful with the girls. They seemed attracted to him like bees round a honey pot.
Tam finished his meal quickly and got up from the table.
‘That’s me away then.’
‘No so fast, lad. You need some money.’ His father scraped back his chair and stood up stiffly. Sinking his hand into his back pocket, he drew out a thin wad of notes and counted several onto the table. ‘Take these and be sure you bring me the change.’
‘Aye, Father, I will.’ Tam pocketed the money, nodded goodbye and, snatching up his coat, swung open the door and disappeared into the yard. ‘Treating me like a schoolboy again,’ he muttered once he was safely outside. ‘I’m twenty-three, for God’s sake.’ He turned the corner and immediately felt as though a bucketful of rain had been flung in his face. Struggling with his jacket, wet from the last foray into the weather, he fastened the buttons, heaved himself up into the trailer seat and flicked the horse's rear end with the reins. He gave a purposeful grin. Nothing was going to spoil this day of all days. His father had at last rewarded his diligence by sending him unaccompanied to the sheep market. It was a job that Alan had been doing for years, but now it was his turn, and he meant to enjoy it to the full.
Easing the horse and trailer out of the yard, he set off down the uneven track.
The rain acted in his favour. It took a lot to deplete the number of farmers doing business at the local market, but the appalling weather had certainly made a difference. Bidding was slow and the prices did not reach the usual for such good-looking stock. But the farmers who had come to sell were not keen to go back with the ewes they had brought, so Tam got a bargain that first day at the market. Loading the sheep into the trailer, he bolted the gate and set off to the café for a cup of tea.
The café was always busy. Its windows streamed with condensation and it reeked of wet wool and fresh sheep dung. Tam entered the damp room with a rising colour. It was not the first time he had been here, but it was his first time alone, and he was aware of eyes following his walk to the counter.
‘So, your father has let you out alone, has he, pal?’
‘Aye.’ Tam smiled self-consciously.
‘Sit down here then, and enjoy your cup of tea.’ The words were spoken by an overweight man, twenty-five years or so his senior. Tam recognised Robert Cunningham. The man’s all-weather face broke into a grin. ‘You’ve got yourself a good bargain today, pal.’
‘Aye, I ken.’ Tam sat down next to the farmer.
‘Your father should be happy with what you take home tonight.’
‘He should be,’ Tam said without conviction. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw James Simpson, a friend of Alan’s, approaching their table.
‘I hear you’ve help at the farm.’ James pulled out a chair and sat down next to Robert. ‘Is she coming to the dance on Saturday?’
‘I don’t ken whether she’s coming or no’, lad.’
‘Well, tell her I’m expecting her!’ He gave a chuckle and, leaning back in his chair, looked at Tam. ‘How’re you doing, Tam?’
‘No’ so bad. Yoursel’?’
‘So, your father’s let you out into the big, bad world on your own, has he, pal?’
‘Aye.’ Tam gave a forced grin, feeling foolish.
‘Well, are you coming to the dance on Saturday?’
‘I didnae know there was one.’ Tam didn't like to acknowledge that he didn't keep up with the social whirl of the young farmers.
‘You mean that brother of yours hasnae told you! Wants to get the pick of the girls, I expect. Not that he has any difficulty. The rest of us always have to put up with his rejects. You come along, pal. It’s in the village hall. The more the merrier. So…’ he turned to Robert Cunningham again, ‘make sure you tell her about Saturday’s dance.’
‘Listening to you speak, lad, I’m no’ so sure I want to let her out of my sight.’ Robert shook his head. ‘I’ll see if my lad is free to bring her.’ He turned to Tam. ‘And if you’re there, you’d better make sure she doesn’t fall into your brother’s clutches.’
It was James’s turn to laugh. ‘I don’t think Tam has any control over his brother, more’s the pity.’ He rose to go. ‘I’ll see you on Saturday, Tam.’
‘I’d better be off too,’ Tam said to Robert. ‘Get those sheep back before teatime… see if Father agrees I’ve got him a bargain.’
‘Aye.’ Robert pushed back his seat. ‘He’s a hard man to please, so he is. I’m going over to the pens, so I’ll step along with you.’
He was a kind man, Tam thought, as he watched Robert Cunningham’s broad back disappearing through the door that led to the back of the auction ring. Someone you could talk to. Fair-minded. Helpful to the younger farmers struggling to make their way. His own father had been like that once, before the death of their mother. But even his father, he thought, should be pleased with his purchases today.
So lost was he in his reverie that as Tam stepped into the yard he didn’t notice the girl about to enter the building until he had all but knocked her off her feet. He put his arms out to steady her and was aware only of a mass of fiery curls and blue eyes that looked at him in amusement.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he gabbled. ‘I didnae see you there.’
‘I should hope not,’ she replied, laughing. ‘I didnae think you treated all of us with such a welcome. Who am I speaking to, anyway?’
‘Tam… I’m Tam. From the McColl Farm. Er… I don’t recognise you.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. I only arrived a week ago. Jeannie’s my name. I’m at Cunningham’s. I’m the new land girl.’
‘Och, aye. I heard he’d got some help.’ Tam smiled at her. ‘Well… um… nice to meet you.’ He hesitated, turned to go and then, in a flash of inspiration, swung back to face her. ‘I don’t know if you’re interested, but there’s a dance on Saturday. Would you like to come? It’s… er… it’s in the village hall.’
‘My, you’re a fast worker and no mistake. But aye, I might do that. Well, bye for now, Tam. I’ll maybe see you there then.’ And with a flick of her hair she disappeared inside.
*
It was not in Douglas McColl’s nature to praise his younger son, but even Tam could see that his father was impressed with the ewes. Tam had unloaded them into a pen for his father’s inspection and he watched his face carefully for any reaction.
His father nodded. ‘They’ll do. Let them out with the others, then come and have your tea.’
It was as much praise as he was likely to get.
Tam opened the far end of the pen and the sheep skittered out, almost falling over one another in their eagerness to be free. He released Holly from the wagon and walked her to the stable, rinsed down the sheep wagon and went to the side of the field into which he had unloaded the arrivals. He could tell them by the previous farmer’s identification mark. They were grazing serenely, mixing with the others, none the worse for their day’s ordeal.
The wind had eased and the solid sheet of grey cloud that had dulled midday into dusk had lifted, to be replaced with billows of white that raced each other across the heavens, parting at times to show a patch of blue. Tam leaned his elbows on the fence and allowed his gaze to follow the line of the valley eastward. It was there, only two miles or so distant, that Jeannie was staying on the Cunninghams’ farm. Jeannie, with whom he had fallen in love before even a word had been spoken.
*
Jeannie’s day at the market was an eye-opener indeed. She had never seen such a huge volume of sheep at such close quarters. She laughed at their antics as they tried to vault the auction ring and shook her head at the auctioneer’s sing-song selling patter, not a word of which she could understand. And then, when she went in search of Rob Cunningham, she finished up in the arms of Tam McColl. What had attracted her to him, she didn’t know. He wasn’t particularly good-looking, apart from a pair of very blue eyes and an infrequent smile, which, when it appeared, transformed his face. A man of few words certainly. Where other men would have made the most of the unforeseen encounter, he had been hesitant and tongue-tied, but then, just as he was retreating in embarrassment, he had invited her to the dance on Saturday.
An intriguing mixture of a man then, and a challenge she could not resist.