Glens of Stone, Day 32

And a good life I would have had there, had I not made a stupid mistake that ruined my life

When they were alone Kirsty sat down beside her father. “Something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”

Duncan sighed. “You can read me like a book. It’s true, there is something.” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Something I should have told you long before now.”

Kirsty moved closer, reaching out to stroke one side of the old man’s face. “You’re going to tell me you’re not my father, either, aren’t you?” she said softly.

Duncan gaped in surprise, then took her hand in his. “When I married my beloved Elizabeth you were already born to her. You’ve always known that we all – John, Agnes, Elizabeth and I – grew up in the same village.

“We attended the same parish school,” he continued, “played together and planned our futures together. All five of us.” Kirsty frowned. “Five? I don’t recall...” “I haven’t mentioned him before. His name was Jamie Fraser. We were all great friends in those days and as we grew older Agnes and Elizabeth found they had three ardent suitors.”

“I remember that night we dined with the Porteouses,” Kirsty said softly. “It sounded as if you and John had been rivals for Agnes’s affection.”

“For Agnes?” The old man shook his head, smiling. “No, my dear, that was just a bit of leg-pulling between us. It was always Elizabeth who fired my ardour – and that of Jamie Fraser.”

“So you and this Fraser were rivals?”

No rancour

“That we were. Oh, there was no rancour. Jamie always acted in a fit and proper way. But I was the one Elizabeth favoured. Then fate took a hand. When I was 18 and Elizabeth barely 16, I knew I wanted to serve the Lord, but my parents were poor.

“There was no option other than learning to be a lay preacher as I couldn’t afford to enter the full ministry. The local minister was keen to help and suggested I study under a friend of his, a pastor in Dundee.”

He sighed. “Initially I was reluctant. It would mean a year or so away from home. But Elizabeth pleaded with me to take the opportunity. And she assured me she would wait for me.”

The wall clock chimed the hour, startling them. “So you went to Dundee,” she prompted. “Yes. And a good life I would have had there, had I not made a stupid mistake that ruined my life.”

Duncan had a faraway look in his eyes as he prepared to confide the mistake that had so nearly ruined his life.

“My mentor was a kindly man eager to guide me along God’s path. Yet I was lonely and wanted the company of those my own age. So one night I found myself in a tavern swilling the Devil’s brews with newfound friends.” Duncan wrung his hands.

“Friends who let me drink myself into oblivion, who robbed me of the little money I had and who left me lying in a wynd near the harbour! There was an English man o’war in the harbour. I woke up aboard it, press-ganged into Naval service.” “Oh, Father,” Kirsty cried, “you poor man!” “It wasn’t so bad, though there was a war on – trouble with Spain.” With an air of pride he went on. “I served in the fleet that captured Gibraltar, would you believe it?

“I was away for near four years, long enough for poor Elizabeth to give me up for lost. I learned later she journeyed often to Dundee to seek news of me, but to no avail.

Lucrative

“In any event, her father had no time for me, since I was not entering a lucrative profession, and he had warned Elizabeth that he would ban our marriage.”

He looked grim. “When I returned, it was to find Elizabeth married to Jamie Fraser, now the village dominie. My parents had died and there was nothing there for me, so I left the area.

“I had the good fortune to be befriended by a pastor and learned all I could about the calling.”

“But you saw my mother – Elizabeth – again?” Kirsty asked. “Yes. God’s will was such that we were to be reunited.”

The room was growing dark as night approached and Duncan rose to light a lamp. “When I found myself at a Mission in Perth, I travelled north to see her. I found her widowed, and you a mere babe in arms. Poor Jamie had died from a lung infection a few months previously.”

“I was a baby? But my parents had been married for 17, 18 years!” Duncan nodded. “Elizabeth confessed she had given up all hope and then to her eternal joy, she said, you came along.”

Happier now, his eyes twinkled. “Elizabeth agreed to marry me and we continued to live in Perth.

“We had but three brief years together before the onset of the illness that took her. But, oh, my dear, they were three of the happiest years of my life.

“It was then that we renewed our friendship with the Porteous family. They had not fared well and their finances were meagre. Then Malcolm had been born – a further drain.

“Fortunately, John found a position as beadle in his parish kirk which gave them a roof above their heads and a small income. It was then that they were asked if they would take a baby girl into their home.”

“Alison!” Kirsty whispered. “Aye,” Duncan agreed. “They took the babe in, and the rest you know.” Thoughtfully, Kirsty ran her fingers over the table top.

“Alison said that she overheard John and Agnes discussing their lack of money and how difficult it was for them to make ends meet.”

“Yet not long after we visited them at Ardrishaig they wrote to tell us they were moving to Edinburgh as John was buying a bookshop there.” Duncan glanced quizzically at Kirsty. “What do you make of that?”

“A reward from someone for their kindness?” “So it would seem,” he agreed. “Anyhow, they prospered thereafter, and have raised two fine children.”

Silence

They sat in thoughtful silence, until Duncan spoke again. “There’s one more mystery about all of this, though,” he continued.

“John once said that he’d been told he and Agnes had been recommended as parents by Jamie Fraser.”

“The man you say was my real father?” Kirsty stared at him. “So it would appear.” His eyes began to droop. “I’m getting drowsy,” he said, rising to his feet. He looked deep into Kirsty’s eyes. “Am I forgiven?”

“Of course.” She planted a gentle kiss on to his forehead. “You are still my father. You always have been and you always will be.”

Despite having unburdened himself, Duncan still felt uneasy. What he hadn’t told her was how his poor wife, gripped by fever, had wished to tell him something. But she had gone to her Lord before the words had formed.

More tomorrow.

Glens of Stone was previously a serial in The People’s Friend. There’s more great fiction in The People’s Friend every week, £1.30 from newsagents and supermarkets.

Artwork: Mandy Dixon