The Baker's Daughter (18 page)

‘Doug washing up?' Rona said. ‘I can't believe it.'

‘He's gone out to see that lass of his.' Angus looked at his daughter. ‘Are you not going out yourself? Not to meet that young man?'

‘He's not my young man.' Rona's voice trembled. She sat down by the fireside and picked up her sewing.

Angus opened the newspaper and scanned
the
headlines, but he was not concentrating, only trying to decide what he should say to Rona.

‘Oh, well,' he began, ‘that's a pity now.' He was silent for a bit then he said all of a sudden, ‘There's going to be changes—with Mr Grey retiring. I'd thought—and it's all depending on what you feel—of bringing Erika into the business. She knows all about the bakery, and she's got a nice manner with the customers.'

‘A good idea,' said Rona warmly. She liked Erika and they'd worked well together.

‘And,' Angus added, ‘you've been on at me to start a café—well, with John Grey retiring, there's all that space upstairs. I'd have to find a cook, a professional cook who was used to catering.'

‘That's a great idea!' said Rona.

‘So Maclaren's is expanding—a shop manager, a cook, and maybe if Doug decides to give up the garage, he'll agree to be in charge of the vans.'

‘And,' said Rona in a small voice, ‘what about me?'

‘That's what I'm trying to say.' Angus looked across at her. ‘You've done a grand job—taking over the house and the shop when your Aunt Lizzie left. But,' he said slowly, ‘I don't want you to feel that Maclaren's has to be your whole life. You might want to go away—you've been talking about London long enough. You might want to get married.'

‘That's
not likely,' Rona said, and there was a catch in her voice.

‘You're a bonny lass,' he said fondly. ‘There's many a one would jump at the chance of a wife like you.'

‘I don't see them jumping,' said Rona.

‘What I'm trying to say,' Angus went on as if she hadn't spoken, ‘is that you're not to sacrifice your life to us, to the bakery. There's plenty out there you could be doing. I don't want you to feel one day, that you could have had a better life away from Kirkton.'

He added, looking into the fire, ‘Oh, I've enjoyed the bakery, working there, building up the business, but I always had a fancy to travel. Too late now. Though I'd have liked to join the Navy. Still, there was a place in the bakery—and old Mr Simpson gave me a good training. I was glad to take over when he went, but, all the same . . .' his voice died away.

Then he said, quite fiercely, ‘I don't want you to give up anything. It's only a business when all's said and done. Not worth ruining your life for, and it isn't as if we were going downhill. Far from it. I've great plans,' he said more briskly.

‘Well, I'll remember that,' said Rona. ‘Though I've no plans myself at the moment,' she said a little bleakly.

‘Well, there's always folk on the move,' said Angus. ‘Time was; you had to stay where you were born and brought up, and no chance to
see
the world. Speaking of seeing the world,' he added, turning back to the newspaper, ‘there's Callum away to Canada next week, George told me.'

Rona laid down her sewing. ‘Excuse me.' She got up from her chair and ran upstairs.

Angus looked after in surprise. What could be the matter? Was it the news about young Callum going to Canada?

He shook his head. You could never tell with a lassie, what she was thinking.

A FINAL CHANCE

Rona ran down the road to the phone box. Luckily it was empty. She picked up the phone with a shaky hand. What if he wasn't there? What if he didn't want to speak to her? What if—oh, what if he had already gone? But she had to know.

‘Harefield Farm,' she recognised the warm friendly tones of Callum's mother.

‘I wondered,' she hesitated, ‘if I could have a word with Callum.'

‘Oh, it's you, Rona—just you wait a minute. I think he's about.'

She could hear sounds in the background, the wireless switched off, and Callum's mother calling, ‘It's for you, Callum—she's in a phone box so hurry up.'

‘Rona?'
Callum sounded surprised. ‘Is something wrong?'

‘No, nothing.' She paused. ‘It was just that I wanted to see you—only for a few minutes to—'

He interrupted her. ‘Yes, sure. Say, at the café? Tonight? Seven o'clock, maybe?'

‘Thank you.'

‘I have to go,' he said rather abruptly.

She put the phone down, trembling a little Had she made a big mistake? Had he already pushed her into a corner of his mind as someone he'd once known and would forget?

She was there at the café a little early, but Callum was on time. She watched him coming along the road towards her, with that long, swinging stride she remembered so well.

‘Rona! I haven't kept you waiting?'

‘No, I'm just here,' she said quickly.

‘Right. A cup of coffee?'

‘If you don't mind—maybe we could just go for a walk.'

‘Sure,' he said easily. ‘Come on, we'll walk along the front.'

They strolled in silence for a bit, then stopped to watch the few people walking dogs along the beach and smiled at a large black Labrador leaping into the waves. It was a warm early summer evening with the promise of sunny days to come.

‘So?' Callum turned to Rona as they reached the shelter where they'd sat often.
‘Was
there something special you wanted to see me about?' His tone was neutral.

Rona gulped. ‘Just to say goodbye and to wish you good luck, before you sail next week,'

He looked puzned. ‘Sail? Next week?'

‘For Canada. I know you'd planned to go—to join your cousin.'

‘But . . .' he was even more confused. ‘I'm not sailing next week, probably not for a month or so yet. I've only just made enquiries about the passage. What on earth gave you that idea?'

‘My father said . . .' Rona stared at him. ‘My father said just last night, that you were sailing in a few days' time. He was quite definite. He'd met someone in the bank who said you were leaving next week. Seems it's common knowledge.'

‘Rona.' Callum took her hands in his. ‘I don't know how these rumours get around. Oh, yes I do,' he said, realising. ‘I met someone I knew on the ferry just after I'd been to the travel agent's in Dundee. We were taking about possibly emigrating. Do you think,' he said thoughtfully, ‘that your father's trying to push us together? Come to think of it, he was talking about the future of the bakery. How Erika's going to join the business and Doug will take over the vans. Oh, and he's planning to open a tearoom upstairs when the lawyer's lease runs out. I wonder . . .'

She blushed. ‘This is very embarrassing. I'd
never
have rung you if I'd realised, but I didn't want you to go without saying goodbye.'

‘I'm glad you rang. So,' Callum said slowly, ‘there's going to be changes. But you'll be staying in Kirkton?'

‘Father said,' Rona drew a deep breath, ‘that I'd to do just what I wanted. When he was young he'd given up a plan to join the Navy and got a job in the bakery instead. He wanted me to have the freedom to choose, to go wherever I wanted. London, maybe.' Her voice trailed off.

‘Or Canada?' said Callum, looking into her eyes. ‘Canada with me? Would you, Rona? You said that you couldn't leave your family, but it seems things are going to change at the bakery. So,' he added, ‘have you given up plans to go to London, get a glamorous job or,' he paused, ‘Rona, would you think of coming to Canada with me? What I'm saying is, would you marry me?'

‘Oh, yes!' Rona's face lit up with joy. ‘Yes!'

‘Wheeh!' Callum leapt up and waved his fists in the air.

‘I couldn't forget you,' he said as he put his arms around her. ‘But I didn't think there was any hope for me.'

‘And I thought,' Rona said a little shakily, ‘that you'd go to Canada and meet someone else. I had an idea she'd be a farmer's daughter and you'd have three boys, all tall and good looking and maybe a couple of little girls—
very
pretty, fair-haired girls.'

‘You'd got it all planned, hadn't you?' He smiled at her. ‘I'd rather have you.' He went on, ‘I'm not the romantic sort—no good at making pretty speeches, but well, you're the only one for me.'

He kissed her and Rona felt as if they were the only ones on earth, two people in love.

‘What a way to behave!' Two elderly women were passing the shelter. One glared at Callum who took no notice.

‘Och,' said her companion, who was little and round and good-natured. ‘Where's the harm in having a kiss and a cuddle in a shelter?' She thought a little wistfully of the young man who many years ago had kissed her in a seaside shelter.

‘Well,' said the other, ‘my feet are hurting me. I wanted to sit down for a bit.'

The other sighed. ‘We'll find somewhere else to sit and maybe go and have an ice-cream or a nice cup of tea in the town.'

She wondered about the young couple. Were they engaged, perhaps? She hoped they were and that they'd have a long and happy life together. There was nothing, she thought, quite like a bit of romance.

‘Do hurry up,' said her friend crossly. ‘I'm dying for a cup of tea and a nice sit down.'

The first woman sighed. All right, dear.' She turned back along the promenade, but the thought of the romantic scene she'd
left
behind gave her a glow. Someone else's happiness, that was the next best thing.

*        *        *

‘It's got to be the best ever,' said Angus to Erika. ‘I'll need to Leave the decorating to you.'

‘You may be sure,' said Erika solemnly, ‘that it will be the very best I can do.'

He smiled at her. More and more Angus was coming to rely on Erika. She was dependable, and now that Rona was going away Erika would be a tower of strength in the shop.

He would miss Rona sadly. In the weeks before the wedding and her departure with Callum for Canada, he tried not to think of what life would be like without her, but then she couldn't have found a better husband than Callum.

He was a good lad and he'd look after Rona. And it might not have all come about. It must have been a rumour, all that story about Callum leaving for Canada, booked his passage, sailing the next week.

That was Kirkton for you. A typical small town.

He'd been a bit surprised when Callum came to ask—as was very right and proper—for Angus's permission to marry Rona. ‘I'm not actually planning to go to Canada for
a
couple of months,' Callum explained. ‘So there's time to book our passage and we can get married before I go.'

He looked at Angus with a twinkle in his eye, and Angus wondered just how much the lad knew about the rumour that had gone round the town.

Neither he nor Rona had ever said anything. But his daughter was a different girl now. She sang around the house, and chattered about their plans. ‘And Erika will look after you well, Father,' she said.

‘It's just to be a quiet wedding,' said Callum. ‘That's what we want. Only family.'

Aunt Lizzie came down from Perth on the bus, and was about to take charge. ‘It's all planned, Auntie,' said Rona. ‘Just a quiet ceremony and a family lunch.'

‘No show of presents! No bridesmaids!'

Rona shook her head. ‘It's all going to be very simple. Just family and a few friends.'

Friends such as Nancy, who was thrilled by Rona's news. It was not long after her own wedding and, ‘I knew you'd be next!' she beamed.

‘But a wedding cake, that you must have,' said Angus, ‘and the very best that Maclaren's Bakery can provide.'

And of course, it had to have pride of place in the window. Angus cleared the window completely of the tins of shortbread and display of fruit cakes. ‘You'll need to arrange
the
display,' he said anxiously to Erika.

‘Leave it to me,' she smiled at him.

On a base of cream silky material, at either side of the window stood an arrangement in a silver container of white roses and maidenhair fern. And in the centre stood the cake—a three-tier, rich fruit cake decorated with all Erika's skill and artistry, with piped shells and lattice work and sugar roses.

People stopped to look into the window. ‘My, that's braw!' said one elderly woman.

‘Who's getting married then?'

‘Do you not know—it's the baker's lassie. She marrying Callum Scott and they're away to Canada.'

‘It's a grand cake,' said her friend as they moved away up the street.

Rona had overheard the conversation and she suddenly felt in the midst of all the excitement and anticipation, a great wave of love for all those she was leaving behind.

For Father, for Doug and Erika, for Nancy and her friends—for Aunt Lizzie too. And she knew that however far away she might be—over thousands of miles and a vast ocean—she would still be the baker's lassie.