The Courier & Advertiser (Perth and Perthshire Edition)
It’s probably a passing fancy, Peg, you know what youngsters are like.
Andy was scanning the show programme. “How about candyfloss, then the Young Farmers’ tug-of-war?” Elizabeth shook her head at his suggestion. “I haven’t had a chance to see the animals yet. I’m going to find Tibbie first and leave the girls with her.”
“I’ll see you by the pens, then. The judging will be finished in about 10 minutes.”
Andy stuffed the programme into the pocket of his tweed jacket. “Rosland’s definitely in with a shout for best bull. I hope Rodney Shaw’s there to see him win.”
“If he wins it’s thanks to yourself and Tam,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll catch up with you, Andy.”
The walk towards the WRI tent took them past the stand. She looked up, to see Bill Brock staring in her direction.
First prize
Peggy crossed the tent to gloat at the produce table. First prize for her raspberry jam, and a second for her rhubarb and ginger!
“Well done, my dear.”
She turned to see her auntie Mamie.
“That’s the wild rasps Alec found for me,” Peggy said. “They were really big and juicy. Have you had tea? I was about to.”
She looked over to the table where she’d left Tibbie and Donna. Elizabeth was just walking away, having left her girls with them.
“Tibbie and Donna,” Mamie whispered. “How are they getting on?”
“In mutual bewilderment, I think,” Peggy whispered back. “Look, the table beside them is free.”
Libby and Flora smiled at their granny Mamie but their attention was on Donna.
With her blonde hair, crimson lips and fingernails, and her pink frock with its wide skirt, she was like one of their dolls come to life, Peggy thought.
They sat gazing in mute adoration.
Peggy and Mamie parked themselves at the adjacent table and waved to attract the attention of Nancy, from the village shop, who was acting as waitress.
“I’ve got such a lot to tell you,” Peggy said, as cups of tea and a plate of sandwiches and cakes were brought over to them.
“Everything all right?” Mamie glanced at Tibbie, perhaps wondering if they should include her.
But she’d got out her knitting – a large brown sock – and was concentrating on counting stitches. “No. We had awful news in the post.” Peggy bit gloomily into a ham sandwich.
“An invitation to the gillies’ ball!”
Mamie laughed in relief.
“That’s not awful, Peg! How lovely.”
“It’s not. Lady Annabel wants Alec to play the fiddle so she had to ask me as well.
“What will I wear? Has Elizabeth been invited?” “I expect so, she usually is,” Mamie said. “But she hasn’t gone – you know, since Matthew.”
Peggy frowned.
“Selfish beast, I am. I never thought.
“Well, Alec runs a mile from social occasions but he can hardly say no to this one, so I’ll have to put up with it.”
“It will be fine,” Mamie said. “You know Alec’s happy with a fiddle in his hand.
“And I think Crys will be up around then – maybe she could help you with clothes and things?”
“Oh, would she?” Peggy said thankfully. “That’s one load off my mind, then.”
“What else is on your mind, dear?”
Her niece heaved a sigh.
“I told you Colin seems dead set on finding work on a ranch in California? Now I think Davy’s for leaving, too.”
“For America?”
“No, but bad enough. Inverness maybe, or Aberdeen. I found a scrap torn from the Press & Journal in his room.
“It was an advertisement about joining the police!”
Mock groan
“Goodness! What does Alec say about that?” “I haven’t dared tell him. And I haven’t said anything to Davy himself. He’s not mentioned it to you and Neil, has he?”
“Not to me,” Mamie said, “and Neil hasn’t said anything. It’s probably a passing fancy, Peg, you know what youngsters are like.”
She lowered her voice. “All set for your first driving lesson next week?”
Peggy gave a mock groan that she turned into a cough when she saw the noise had caught Tibbie’s attention.
“As much as I’ll ever be.” She raised her voice. “Tibbie swept the board as usual in the knitting and sewing, Auntie Mamie.”
Tibbie sniffed but a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.
“I think I’ll go and admire the handicrafts then, if you’ve finished your tea, Peg,” Mamie said, standing up.
“Goodness, what’s happening here?”
Donna had a pretty little bag in front of her, its contents spread out on the table.
Lipstick, rouge, powder and other pots and tubes Peggy didn’t recognise.
She was pretending to make up the girls, dabbing her fingers gently over their eyes and cheeks.
That was nice of her. Even wriggly Flora kept perfectly still.
It was a pity the visitors would be gone by the time of the gillies’ ball, Peggy thought, moving her seat to squeeze in beside Tibbie.
Perhaps Donna would have given Peggy a make-up lesson!
In the car park the party from Rosland House was preparing to leave in two big cars.
Peggy, about to get into their own old banger, gawped unashamedly.
There was Lady Cecily, grown-up and very pretty. The dark-haired, good-looking man holding the door open for her must be the American, Bill Brock.
Hugh had come to find Donna in great excitement and taken her to see him.
Good day
And there were Hugh and Donna themselves – invited, because of the mutual acquaintance, for dinner at Lady Annabel’s.
“Peg, are you going to stand there all night?” Alec started the engine.
“Sorry.” Peggy climbed in.
She patted her husband’s arm. He’d had a good day, too, having won the sheepdog trials.
With no Hugh and Donna, and the boys staying on in town with their friends, they’d have the house to themselves this evening, she reflected with guilty satisfaction.
Bacon and eggs to celebrate, and she’d open a pot of her prize-winning raspberry jam to have with their bread and butter.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth pinned Bonnie Boy’s red rosette above his stall in the byre.
He was unaware of his success, of course, but Elizabeth was delighted.
If only Matthew could have shared the moment. But here was Tam, the dairyman, as pleased about it as if Bonnie Boy belonged to him.
More tomorrow