The Skylark's Secret, стр. 63
Elspeth nods. ‘The sunshine and fresh air will do her good on the walk home, put the roses back in her cheeks again. Take care of yourself, Lexie. We’ll be seeing you again soon.’
Daisy waves a chubby hand and I turn the pushchair, heading back in the direction of Keeper’s Cottage. As we go, I sing to try and keep her awake, not wanting her to be lulled off to sleep before I’ve given her lunch, and she joins in here and there, happily kicking up her feet when we get to the chorus.
When we reach the house by the jetty, our voices are joined by the sound of whistling, the tune tone-perfect and each note as clear as birdsong. Daisy stops singing and chuckles instead as Davy’s head pops up from behind the tangle of honeysuckle that scrambles over the fence in front of his house. He’s on his hands and knees, picking wild raspberries from the canes that have woven themselves into the hedge.
Our meeting is a little awkward, as we haven’t seen each other since the accident. Perhaps he’s been avoiding me. Or perhaps I’ve been avoiding him. I’ve been intending to call to thank him properly, but haven’t quite got around to it yet.
‘Hello, you two,’ he says, getting to his feet and brushing the earth from his knees. ‘Jings, it’s grand to see the pair of you back safe and out and about again. Been busy making music, have you?’
I reach over the hedge and hug him tight, lost for words for a moment. ‘Davy, I . . . Thank you. Thank you so much for what you did.’
He smiles at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and shakes his head, making light of my gratitude. ‘I’m so sorry it happened. I should have been watching more carefully.’
‘It was my responsibility to watch her, not yours.’
‘Well, I’m very glad she’s none the worse for it now.’ He reaches out a finger and strokes her cheek.
‘Go bat?’ says Daisy, pointing hopefully towards the jetty. Her accident doesn’t seem to have dampened her enthusiasm for the sea one little bit.
‘I’ve already been out this morning,’ he tells her, offering her the bowl of raspberries. She takes one and looks at it thoughtfully before putting it in her mouth. ‘Took the Bonnie Stuart out beyond the point and caught a lovely wild salmon.’
‘Sam,’ replies Daisy approvingly.
‘But we’ll go out in the boat again one of these days, shall we, when the wind’s a bit quieter? It’s still a bit fresh today.’
‘That’d be great,’ I reply, as Daisy is too busy reaching for another raspberry to answer herself.
I fish a tissue out of my pocket and wipe the wine-coloured juice from Daisy’s fingers. ‘And now I’d better be getting this one home for her lunch. Sorry, though, she seems to have polished off most of your pudding already.’
‘Bye, Daisy,’ he says, shaking her sticky hand in his. ‘Be seeing you, Lexie.’
I turn the pushchair towards home. ‘Okay.’ And I smile. ‘Be seeing you, Davy.’
And as we head on our way along the road, the wind carries with us the faint strains of someone whistling ‘The Bonnie Lass o’ Fyvie-O’.
Flora, 1942
The Scottish summer never usually seemed to last long enough, but that year it felt interminable to Flora, Mairi and Bridie. They tried hard to be thankful for the calmer weather and longer days, knowing that these were things that would make life on board ship a little easier for Alec, Roy and Hal and the thousands of others who sailed the restless northern seas. But when the three of them were together, they could confide in one another the secret longing they shared for the summer to end so that the winds of autumn would bring their men back to Loch Ewe.
Flora was thankful that her duties kept her so busy. She and Mairi had been selected to be given some additional basic medical training and they were spending more time driving the ambulance that they’d been allocated, working as a team. They knew the roads around the loch like the backs of their hands and made almost daily runs ferrying the ill and the injured back and forth between the sick bay in the base at Mellon Charles and the hospital at Gairloch.
‘I can’t get over how much it’s all changed,’ Flora commented. They’d been sent to pick up a Polish officer from his billet in Poolewe who needed treatment for an abscess on a tooth. He’d chatted with them on the way, describing how he’d escaped from Warsaw when the Germans invaded and how determined he and his comrades were to win back their country from the Nazis. They dropped him at the hospital and he saluted smartly as they drove off. ‘Who’d ever have imagined we’d be doing this?’ She patted the steering wheel of the ambulance.
‘I know, it’s strange, isn’t it? But at the same time, it feels so familiar now. I can’t imagine going back to how I was before, just helping with the farm and the bairns. Do you think our lives will ever be the same again?’
Flora shrugged. ‘The war will end one day. But you’re right: I think when it does we’ll find it has changed our lives forever – for better or worse, I suppose.’
Mairi turned to face her friend. ‘Did you hear? They’re wanting to organise some concert parties to help entertain the troops. I saw a notice in the canteen asking for volunteers. You should sing for them, Flora. They’d snap you up in a second.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure I’d have the courage to sing in front of an audience like that.’ Flora shook her head slowly. She was torn. She’d love to sing at a concert, really, but she could just