When Dreams Come True

by Emma Blair

Genres: General Fiction; Sagas

Synopsis

Norma McKenzie's bubbly, irrepressible Glaswegian spirit ensured that she would never remain downtrodden. When her family are forced to move into a Glasgow tenement, it is not long before she meets popular, handsome, blue-eyed Midge Henderson. Captivated by each other, their lives seem blissfully entwined as they embark upon a glamorous ballroom-dancing career. But then, out of the blue, Norma's life is shattered by bitter betrayal . . . It is many years before love re-enters Norma's life - a daring, aristocratic Scots officer rekindles the flames of passion amidst the devastation of war. But returning to Glasgow as man and wife in 1945 imposes new strains on their relationship. And when Midge reappears, Norma feels her love for him returning and she is faced with the most agonising choice of her life . . . Praise for Emma Blair: 'An engaging novel and the characters are endearing - a good holiday read' Historical Novels Review 'All the tragedy and passion you could hope for . . . Brilliant' The Bookseller 'Romantic fiction pure and simple and the best sort - direct, warm and hugely readable. Women's fiction at an excellent level' Publishing News 'Emma Blair explores the complex and difficult nature of human emotions in this passionately written novel' Edinburgh Evening News 'Entertaining romantic fiction' Historical Novels Review '[Emma Blair] is well worth recommending' The Bookseller

Release date: October 20, 2016

Publisher: Piatkus

Print pages: 432

Sample

March had been a rotten month filled with rain, wind, cold and sleet. But with the arrival of April the weather had changed, with the sun appearing and the grey skies turning to blue.

Norma McKenzie hummed happily to herself as she walked along the path which would take her home. She’d just been to the wee town of Kirn about a mile away on the Argyllshire coast to get some messages for her ma, and while there had had a good crack with Marion Cockburn, a school pal of hers in the same class. During the school holidays – and it was now the Easter ones – Marion helped in the family shop, a licensed grocers.

Norma stopped to stare out over the Firth of Clyde, and watched the paddle-steamer Maid of Lorne head for Kirn pier, en route from Gourock. She knew all the steamers on the Clyde, having been able to recognise and name them before she could read or write.

Then something on the road running parallel to the seashore caught her eye. It was the big swanky car that belonged to the new owner of Kilmichael House, her da’s new boss.

As the car turned in at the drive gate she caught a glimpse of Mr Hodgart, and beside him his wife. The Hodgarts had a son called Rodney and a daughter Caroline who was just a little older than herself.

Norma didn’t like the Hodgarts very much. There was an aura about them – Mr Hodgart in particular – which made her uneasy. The one time she’d bumped into Mr Hodgart he’d smiled at her, but it had been a smile she hadn’t believed. There was a bully at school who smiled in exactly the same way as he was nipping you or giving you Chinese Burn.

Despite their wealth, the Hodgarts weren’t real toffs in the way the previous owner, the Earl of Arran and Clydesdale, had been. They might be stinking rich but they didn’t have class. Their money was new – and it showed.

The Earl’s family had owned Kilmichael House, and the ten acres of grounds belonging to the house, for over three hundred years, but the Earl had fallen on hard times financially and, after a long struggle, had been forced to put the property on the market where it had soon been snapped up by Mr Hodgart.

Mr Hodgart was a general importer and exporter who also owned a big factory in Greenock. A factory, according to her da, that made pipe fittings and ball bearings.

‘Norma!’

She turned at the sound of her da’s voice, and there he was striding towards her, coming round from behind a stand of rhododendron bushes.

Not for the first time it struck her what a fine upstanding-looking man her da was. There was a dignity and purpose about him which suited his position as head gardener to Kilmichael House. He had three other gardeners working under him.

‘I’ve just been to Kirn to get some messages for Ma,’ Norma explained.

Brian McKenzie glanced at the basket she was carrying and nodded. Effie had mentioned earlier she was going to send Norma in for a few things, adding tobacco to the list when he’d told her he was about to run out.

‘Did you get my ’baccy?’ he asked, accepting the tin when Norma handed it over.

‘McLean from the House came searching me out to say that the master himself wants a word when he gets back. As that was his car I spied I’d better away up and see him.’ McLean was a footman.

Gardening business, Norma presumed, as had Brian.

‘Tell your ma where I’ve gone and that I may be late for dinner as a result. I’ll try and get home as soon as I can.’

‘I’ll tell her da.’

Brian smiled softly at his eldest daughter, the eldest of three. Norma was fourteen, Lyn a year younger, and Eileen, the baby, eleven. He loved them all but – maybe because she was his first-born – he loved Norma the most, something he’d never confided to a living soul, not even to Effie.

Brian slipped the tobacco tin into his jacket pocket. ‘Away with you then and I’ll see you by and by,’ he said.

Norma waved to her father, then he was gone, hidden from view by another stand of rhododendron bushes.

When she arrived at the cottage Norma found Lyn laying the table while Eileen was cutting bread into slices and buttering them. Her ma was at the range stirring a pot of stew. The smell from the stew and from the potatoes baking in the range oven filled the kitchen, and was delicious.

‘I saw Da,’ Norma said, then proceeded to give her ma his message.

Effie wiped her hands on her pinny, then pushed back a stray wisp of hair which had tumbled down onto her high forehead. She was wearing her hair in her usual way, swept up and held in place by a great many pins and a brace of tortoiseshell combs. It was only when going to bed, or washing her hair, that she let it down.

‘Well I’m glad we don’t have to wait. I’m starving,’ Lyn said hopefully.

‘Who said we don’t have to wait?’ Effie queried, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

Lyn dropped her gaze. ‘I just thought that’s what Da’s message implied,’ she mumbled.

‘Trust you to think that Podge,’ whispered Eileen.

Lyn glared at her younger sister. She hated her nickname, positively loathed it. If Ma hadn’t been there she’d have skited Eileen round the ear for using it. And she might still, later, if she could get the wee so-and-so alone.

‘I don’t see how you can be that hungry after the breakfast you’ve eaten,’ teased Norma. Lyn had eaten a whopping breakfast – but then she always did. She ate as much as Norma, Ma and Eileen put together.

‘We’ll wait for Da. Not that he’d mind if we went ahead, but I would,’ Effie said.

Lyn sniffed, and listened to her belly rumble. It rumbled a lot; she was known for it.

When she thought Effie wasn’t looking Lyn swiped a bit of breadcrust from the table and quickly popped it into her mouth. It wasn’t her fault she had a healthy appetite, she told herself. Ma and the others were just pickers anyway. Why, a bird ate more than they did!

‘I saw Caroline Hodgart while you were out, she was riding that horse of hers,’ Eileen said to Norma.

‘It’s a smasher, that chestnut mare,’ Norma replied, her voice tinged with jealousy.

Eileen sighed. ‘I’d give anything to own a beastie like yon.’

Me too, Norma thought, as daft on horses as Eileen was. The pair of them did get the chance to ride from time to time, but only on the old broken-down hack over at Boyd’s Farm. There was no comparison between Tom-Tom and Caroline Hodgart’s chestnut mare.

It must be great to be rolling in it, Norma thought, to be able to afford anything you want. Just a snap of the fingers and there it was – a horse, a dress, whatever.

She fell to day-dreaming about being rich, and in that day-dreaming did an awful lot of finger snapping.

They all looked up when the door opened and Brian came in. It was over an hour since he’d met Norma returning from Kim.

Brian’s face was tight and drawn. His expression was strange, sort of bemused. Going to his favourite chair he plonked himself down.

‘I’ll get the dinner out now you’re back,’ Effie said with a smile.

Brian didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead.

‘Lyn’s been fair champing at the bit, you’d think she hadn’t eaten for a month,’ Eileen said to her da.

Brian produced his pipe and a new tin of tobacco. Still staring ahead he opened the tin and began filling his pipe.

‘Da, dinner’s going on the table,’ Norma admonished.

‘I’ve had the sack,’ Brian said.

Effie went stock still, ladle filled with stew poised in mid-air.

Lyn laughed. ‘He’s at it again!’

Effie’s face cracked into a grin that became a large smile. ‘Och see you, you’re terrible so you are!’ she said to Brian, filling the plate she was holding.

Norma stared at her da. He was an awful joker, mickey-taker, forever saying the most outrageous things. Why only the previous week he’d told them that moonmen had landed in London and were even then in private consultations with the Prime Minister Mr MacDonald.

Brian put his pipe to his mouth and lit up, then blew out a long thin stream of blue smoke.

‘I’m afraid it’s true,’ he said, his voice leaden.

‘Da, will you stop it! We know you’re only trying to get us going,’ said Lyn, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table.

‘I’ll have two of those jacket potatoes Ma,’ she said to Effie.

Eileen scrambled into her place and reached for a slice of bread and butter. ‘Is there anything you want me to do this afternoon Ma? If not I thought I’d go and play with Helen Millar,’ she said. Helen was the daughter of one of the gardeners under Brian, and lived in another cottage close by.

‘Mr Hodgart said he’s nothing against me personally but wants to put his own chap in as head gardener, the chap he had at his last place. He’s promised to give me a good reference,’ Brian went on.

Norma suddenly saw there was a sheen of sweat on her father’s brow. Sweat that glinted as it was caught by the light streaming in from the window by the sink.

Fear clutched her insides. ‘Da?’ she whispered.

Brian looked at her. There was none of the humour in his eyes that there usually was when he was having them on. On the contrary, there was a deadness about them that she’d never seen before.

‘Come on you pair, will you get in at the table. And put that pipe out Brian. Honestly!’ Effie grumbled, sitting down at her customary place.

‘Pass the butter please,’ Eileen asked Lyn.

Lyn helped herself first, putting two huge dollops on her plate.

‘If you’re not careful you’ll be the size of a barn door before you’re much older,’ Eileen said to Lyn.

‘Don’t be cheeky,’ Effie told Eileen. Then turning to Lyn she went on, ‘but she’s right, you are eating far too much. Put half that butter back, and no arguments either.’

‘Ma, I think it’s true,’ Norma said softly to Effie.

‘What dear?’

‘About Da being sacked.’

Effie opened her mouth to laugh, but what she saw written on Brian’s face stopped her.

‘Dear God!’ she muttered in a strangled voice.

‘We’ve to be out of here by the first day of June, whether I’ve got another job or not. In the meantime I’m to take as much time off as I need to find one.’

‘It is true then,’ said Effie, a hand going to her heart.

‘Wants his own chap as head gardener,’ Brian repeated.

Eileen put down the bread she’d been munching on. A film covered her eyes, then she burst into tears.

‘But you’ve worked for the House man and boy. Didn’t he take that into consideration?’ Effie asked, desperation in her voice.

‘There’s no question about the standard of my work, or of my loyalty. It’s just that he wants his own chap,’ Brian replied.

‘It would seem the loyalty’s all one-sided,’ muttered Norma.

‘Nor did Mr Hodgart think I should stay on under the new fellow. He didn’t think that would be right for either of us,’ Brian added.

Effie pushed back her chair and stood up. Going to Eileen she cuddled her youngest daughter to her.

Norma was not only stunned – she was devastated. Leave the cottage where she’d been born and brought up. Why the idea was inconceivable! And yet, that was what she was going to have to do. What they were all going to have to do.

‘I just couldn’t believe it when he told me. I thought I was hearing things,’ Brian whispered.

‘Damn him!’ Effie exploded in a sudden burst of anger.

Brian ran a hand through his hair. The hand was trembling slightly, he noted. Then realised that the other one was as well.

‘This doesn’t need to be as bad as it sounds. I heard there was a head gardener’s job going in Innellan, I’ll bicycle down there after breakfast tomorrow and apply. With a bit of luck I’ll be fixed up again before we know where we are,’ he said. Innellan was south on the coast road, about ten miles away.

‘Does a cottage go with the job?’ Effie asked quickly.

‘I don’t know, but I’d imagine it would. Anyway, I’ll find out the details when I go there tomorrow.’

‘When did you hear about this job Da?’ asked Norma.

‘Last Friday down the pub. It had only come available, so news of it can hardly have spread very far yet.’

‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed then,’ said Effie.

‘Aye,’ Brian agreed.

Eileen stopped crying, and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. There was a lump in her throat that felt the size of a turnip.

Effie took a deep breath, then another. ‘Well, that was a bombshell and no mistake,’ she declared.

‘I couldn’t face any dinner love. I’ve no appetite at all,’ Brian told her, and took a lengthy drag on his pipe.

‘Me neither Ma,’ said Norma.

In the end only Lyn ate. She looked guilty as she did, but she ate nonetheless.

Norma was the first to hear the squeak of her da’s bike approaching the cottage. The chain needed oiling, a task Brian had been meaning to get round to for some time.

She glanced up from her darning and over to where Effie was bent over the ironing board. She saw her ma stiffen – she too must have heard her da’s approach.

Effie bit her lip, then, consciously trying to relax, went back to her ironing. She wanted to appear casual and not betray the inner turmoil she was feeling.

She was whacked, having been awake worrying most of the night. Brian hadn’t had much sleep either. And what sleep he had managed to get had been filled with restless tossings and turnings.

‘It’s Da!’ exclaimed Eileen excitedly. She and Lyn were sitting together mending a sheet that Lyn had put a big toe through and ripped. The sheet might be gey thin but it still had life left in it yet according to Effie.

Brian dismounted from his bike, leant it against the cottage wall, knocked his boots on the step – even though he’d polished them earlier he did this through force of habit – and, with a heavy heart, went into the kitchen.

Effie forced a smile onto her face. ‘So how did you get on?’ she asked.

Brian shook his head. ‘You wouldn’t credit it, but the job went late last evening.’

‘You mean ...?’ Effie trailed off.

‘Aye, that’s right. If I’d gone directly after yesterday’s dinner instead of waiting till this morning I’d have got it.’

That was cruel, Norma thought. And resumed darning.

‘My fault entirely. I shouldn’t have waited,’ Brian added, anger and bitterness in his voice.

Effie crossed over to the range and placed the iron in a place where it would be reheated. ‘Was there a cottage going with the job?’ she asked.

‘Aye. A nice one too I believe.’

Effie and Brian’s eyes locked, then she looked away. The slump of her shoulders betrayed her disappointment.

‘Ach well, if it wasn’t to be it wasn’t to be,’ she said, trying to make her voice sound light and unconcerned, and failing totally.

‘I’ll put the kettle on. I’m sure you could use a cup of tea,’ Norma said to Brian.

Brian wanted to take Effie in his arms and comfort her, but didn’t because the children were there. ‘I certainly could,’ he replied to Norma.

‘What now Da?’ Lyn asked.

‘I’ll have my tea and then take myself round about, see if anyone’s heard of anything.’

‘Make sure you buy a paper. There might be something advertised,’ Effie said.

‘I will. And I’ll go into the pub and have a word with John Paul. He’s a mine of information that man.’ John Paul was the publican of Brian’s local The Royal Arms.

Effie couldn’t help her gaze straying to the calendar tacked to the wall. The first of June was uncomfortably close – six weeks away, that was all. And what were six weeks? Nothing whatever in their present situation. If only Brian had gone to Innellan yesterday afternoon! Brian blamed himself for that, but wasn’t she just as much to blame. She should have thought to make him go straight away. But it hadn’t even occurred to her. It was just that ... well, their pace of life was such that they weren’t used to doing things in a rush.

While Effie was staring at the calendar Norma noted that the deadness she’d seen in her da’s eyes the previous night was back. And was it her imagination or did he seem to have aged?

‘I’m glad you missed that job, I don’t like Innellan anyway,’ Eileen said suddenly, trying to cheer her da up.

Brian turned his attention to his youngest daughter. ‘You know something Eileen?’

‘What Da?’

‘To tell the truth I don’t either.’

They all laughed at that, with the exception of Effie.

‘I’ll make you some scones for later,’ Lyn said.

All four females could bake, but Lyn’s baking – which she didn’t do very often as surprisingly she didn’t enjoy doing it – was special. There wasn’t another female in the district who could bake as well as her; she was in a class of her own. A lot of it was to do with her very cold hands, Effie had always said.

‘I’ll look forward to that,’ Brian replied, giving a wee nod to show he appreciated the treat.

When Brian had drunk his tea he cycled away again, with Effie and Norma standing at the sink window watching him go.

‘If only ...’ Effie started to say, trailing off to bite her lip.

Norma squeezed her mother’s hand comfortingly. Then she returned to her darning; Effie to the ironing.

Early evening ten days later Norma was returning home with a pail of milk she’d been to Boyd’s Farm for, when there was the ting of a bell behind her, and there was her da on his bike. On reaching her he dismounted.

‘Any luck?’ she demanded eagerly, knowing he’d been into nearby Dunoon to see the manager of the Marine Hotel. The hotel had large grounds attached and employed a number of gardeners and Brian had heard that one of them was shortly to retire.

‘A year till the fellow retires, the manager told me,’ Brian said ruefully and shrugged.

‘So it was a wild-goose chase.’

‘I’m afraid it was, pet.’

They walked along in silence.

‘Da?’

He glanced sideways at her.

‘What happens if you don’t find something?’

‘There’s plenty of time left before we have to worry about that,’ he replied quickly.

‘But if you don’t?’ she persisted.

She waited for an answer, but none came. They walked the rest of the way home with the sort of silence between them that you could have cut with a knife.

Norma awoke suddenly, her eyes snapping open. She stared up into the heavy darkness wondering what had roused her.

She didn’t need a clock to tell her it was late, very late. Well after midnight she guessed.

Outside a cat screamed, then screamed again. That must have been what had wakened her, she thought, smiling to herself. Snuggling down she prepared to go back to sleep.

Then she heard something else, a voice speaking from the direction of the kitchen. Her da’s voice.

Norma frowned. What was he doing still up at this time? He was normally early to bed and early to rise. With the exception of Hogmanay she’d never known him be up after twelve.

Getting out of bed she threw her dressing gown round her shoulders and padded to the door. She opened the door quietly and, without making a sound, slipped out into the hallway.

The kitchen door was ajar and Norma could see her mother and father sitting by the range. A solitary paraffin lamp cast a soft yellow glow round their chairs.

Her mother was speaking now, but in such a low voice that Norma couldn’t make out what she was saying.

The pair of them looked terrible, Norma thought. Her mother’s face was haggard with worry; her da – this time it certainly wasn’t her imagination – looked a dozen years older than before that fateful day when he’d been told of his sacking.

Brian put a hand to his forehead and leant forward in his chair. He was the very picture of despair.

For the first time in her life Norma felt really frightened. Her body tingled with gooseflesh; the inside of both thighs began to quiver.

She went back to bed and lay staring into the darkness. Fear filled her from head to toe, ice-cold, mind-numbing, terrifying fear.

Fear that was still with her when she woke again the next morning.

It was Friday night – bath night for Effie and the girls – and as was usual, Brian had gone to The Royal Arms to give them privacy.

The zinc bath was in front of the range and Eileen was in it. They always shared the same water, starting with the youngest and working their way through to Effie.

On the range itself various large pans were bubbling. After Eileen each new person into the bath got a hot top-up.

Norma glanced away from the book she was reading, over to where Effie was sorting through a pile of dirty laundry.

Effie, clutching a blouse Norma recognised as being one of Eileen’s, was staring at Eileen in the bath. Suddenly a stricken expression crumpled her face, and tears welled in her eyes. With a sob she fled the room.

Lyn started to rise, but stopped halfway at a sign from Norma. ‘I’ll go,’ Norma said.

She found Effie in the parlour weeping into a hanky.

‘It’s four weeks now, only four left,’ Effie choked out.

‘I know Ma,’ Norma replied, lighting the lamp on the mantelpiece.

‘Oh Norma!’ Effie wailed. The pair of them came together and Effie hugged Norma tightly to her.

She mustn’t cry as well, although she felt like doing so, Norma told herself. She must be strong. Usually it was Ma who was the strong one; this time it was up to her.

She stroked Effie’s neck and waited for the weeping to subside, which it eventually did.

Effie wiped a nose that had gone red. ‘I’m sorry for breaking down like that,’ she apologised.

‘It’s understandable Ma.’

Effie held the hanky between her hands and twisted it.

‘It was seeing Eileen in the bath and remembering the first bath I gave her as a baby that did it.’ She twisted the hanky even more vigorously. ‘If the worst comes to the worst – and it seems it’s going to – the family is going to have to split up,’ she said, the latter in a rush.

Norma was appalled. ‘Split up? How do you mean?’

‘Your da’s already written to our relations and it’s been agreed. You’re going to Auntie Josie and Uncle Bill, Lyn to my sister Meg and her husband, and Eileen to Granny and Grandpa McKenzie. Brian and I will stay with his brother Gordon in Hunter’s Quay.’

‘But ... I mean ... surely there’s some other way, a way the family can stick together?’ Norma protested.

Effie shook her head. ‘We have just over eleven pounds in savings – how far do you think that would get us without a wage coming in? No, your da and I have thought this through. Splitting the family for the time being is all we can do.’

Norma thought of Mr Hodgart, she’d never liked the man, now she positively loathed him for what he’d done to them. ‘Everything was so happy and secure here till that Mr Hodgart bought the House,’ she said.

‘Aye, the Earl would never have got rid of your father. He thought the world of Brian and Brian’s work. Said so often.’

Effie blew her nose with the now sodden handkerchief, then wiped her eyes which she knew to be puffy from crying. ‘We weren’t going to let on to you and the other two till next week, but then I had that wee breakdown just now and it all came tumbling out. You will keep it quiet till then, won’t you? Your da and I decided that would be for the best.’

‘I’ll keep it to myself if that’s what you want,’ Norma agreed.

Effie kissed Norma on the cheek. ‘I hadn’t noticed till tonight how grown up you’ve become. It’s good to have another woman to share things with.’

Norma’s heart swelled to hear that. The two women clasped one another, never more close than they were at that moment.

‘I’d better get on then,’ Effie said when they’d released each other.

Norma put out the lamp.

Norma let herself out of the cottage, her mind in a turmoil. She’d lost all notion for having a bath, and Effie hadn’t insisted.

It was a fine night, though somewhat chilly. She pulled her shawl more closely about her as she made her way down to the shore road which she crossed to get to the shoreline beyond.

The tide was in as she’d known it would be; the Firth placid, its waters gently lapping against the many big boulders and rocks hereabouts.

She had a favourite rock which she sought out now, and climbed onto. Across the Firth the Cloch Lighthouse winked in and out.

The family to split up and she to go to Auntie Josie and Uncle Bill! The thought made her feel sick. For apart from the split itself Auntie Josie and Uncle Bill were Wee Frees, meaning members of the Wee Free Church.

She didn’t know too much about the Wee Frees, except they were very strict, with a lot of talk of hellfire and brimstone. It would be church, church and church again. How many times on a Sunday alone, was it twice or three times?

Auntie Josie and Uncle Bill were a dour and serious couple, as well as religious fanatics. Why, in the many times she’d been in their company she’d never seen either of them laugh. She knew without a shadow of a doubt she was going to loathe living with them.

It would be hard for her, but what about poor Eileen? It would break Eileen’s heart to be parted from the rest of them, especially Ma, for at eleven Eileen was still very much tied to her mother.

For Lyn at thirteen, it wasn’t quite so bad, but it was going to be an awful blow for her all the same.

Norma gave a sudden grin. Auntie Meg and Uncle Sammy who Lyn was going to were renowned for being tight, which was reflected in the way they ate – wholesome food, but not very much of it. Lyn would suffer there right enough.

But probably the one to suffer most would be Ma. Being parted from her children would be an open wound, daily salted by memories of the past.

As for her da, he wouldn’t say much about it but she could imagine what he’d go through.

He was such a terrific man, her da, one of the best. She’d never known anyone not to like him. As Ma had said the Earl had thought the world of —

The idea came to her in a blinding flash.

Thought the world of him, she repeated slowly to herself.

It might be the answer. It just might be!

Sliding down from the rock she ran back towards the cottage.

When Brian returned home from the pub he found Effie, Norma and Lyn eagerly awaiting him. Eileen had already been sent to bed as it was past her bedtime.

‘Norma’s had an idea you should hear,’ announced Effie.

‘Oh aye?’ He was a bit muzzy from beer, but not too much so. He sat down and began packing his pipe.

‘The Earl of Arran and Clydesdale always thought the world of you and said so often.’

Brian nodded. That was true enough.

‘And he’s influential, right? Knows all sorts of people, many of whom must employ gardeners?’

Brian considered that as he tamped down his fill.

‘It’s worth a try. What have you got to lose?’ Effie urged.

Not a damn thing, he thought to himself.

‘Well Da?’ Norma queried.

‘Come here,’ he said, beckoning her over.

He playfully punched her on the side of the jaw. ‘I think it’s a smashing idea. And you can write the letter because you’ve got the best copperplate.’

‘I’ll get pen and paper,’ said Lyn, going to the drawer where these things were kept.

Effie was filled with excitement and new hope, as she’d been ever since Norma had told her of her idea. Surely the Earl, as kindly a man as had ever lived, would come to their rescue and find a way out of their predicament for them. Surely!

‘Now what do you think you should write?’ asked Effie.

‘I’ll explain what’s happened, what my position is, and ask if he knows of anyone looking for a gardener,’ Brian replied, furrowing his brow. He lit his pipe.

‘We must emphasise the urgency of the situation – that we’re being chucked out of here in a fortnight’s time,’ Norma stated.

In the end all four of them helped compose the letter.

The following Monday the girls returned home from school to find their parents in a lather of activity. Brian was putting on his best suit – the one he wore for going to church, weddings and funerals – while Effie was packing an overnight case for him.

‘A telegram arrived not half an hour ago from the Earl asking your da to go and see him in Glasgow,’ explained Effie.

Brian stopped what he was doing. ‘And I’m going right away so that I can present myself on his doorstep first thing tomorrow morning. I lost that last opportunity through taking my time – I’m not about to repeat that mistake.’

Norma nodded her approval.

‘Make your da up a piece to take with him; he’ll probably feel like a bite before he gets to Glasgow,’ Effie said to Norma.

‘There’s some of that fresh salmon left. Put that in the piece,’ Brian added. He regularly got a fresh salmon from a game keeper he was friends with.

Lyn picked up the telegram which had been lying on the kitchen table, while Norma set to cutting bread.

‘The Earl just says you’ve to go and see him, nothing else,’ Lyn said.

‘But it is a telegram. That speaks volumes as far as I’m concerned,’ replied Effie.

Brian was knotting his tie, a job he always found difficult because of the thickness and hardness of his fingers. Fingers far more used to a trowel and hoe than to a tie. He stopped to stare at Effie.

‘Let’s not build our hopes up too high eh? The Earl might want to help, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to.’

Effie’s return stare bordered on being a glare. ‘There’s no need to be pessimistic about this,’ she snapped.

‘I’m not being pessimistic, realistic rather,’ Brian repli