The Road to Rowanbrae by Doris Davidson

you’ll maybe find your true love yet.’
    She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Muckle good would it dae me when I’m wed on a great lump like Jeems.’
    â€˜We’ve a’ got oor ain crosses to bear.’ He hoisted his pack on to his shoulder. ‘It’s goodbye for ever this time, Mistress. It’s been a pleasure kennin’ you, an’ thank you for a’ the cups o’ tea you gi’ed me ower the years.’
    â€˜You were mair than welcome, Jockie, an’ I’ll be prayin’ you find a decent place to bide.’ As she held the door open for him and watched him limping away, Mysie wished that she was in a position to offer him a home, but she just had two rooms. Shaking her head mournfully, she went down to the burn to fill the tub again. ‘We’ve a’ got oor ain crosses to bear,’ Jockie had said, and hers at the moment, and likely for the next few years, was Sandy. Taking his soaking breeches off the wire, she wondered where he was. Jamie was sitting against the byre reading a book he had been given as a prize at school, but there was no sign of his brother. ‘Jamie, dae you ken where Sandy is?’
    â€˜He run after the packman, to keep him company a bit.’
    â€˜I hope he doesna go far.’ Sandy could always surprise her, she mused, plunging his trousers into the clean water. His heart was in the right place, that was one good thing, but it would take a bone comb to find any sense in his head.
    Sandy hadn’t returned by twelve, when the rest of his family sat down to kale and mashed potatoes, and Mysie’s irritation with him turned to anger. ‘You’ll ha’e to sort that loon oot, Jeems. He just does what he likes.’
    Her husband took a large bite out of an oatcake before he answered. ‘His belly should ha’e tell’t him it was dinnertime.’
    The crumbs flying out of his mouth infuriated Mysie, so she burst out, without thinking of the possible consequences, ‘Ha’e you nae manners, man? Speakin’ wi’ your mooth fu’ like that?’
    â€˜I was never a great ane for manners,’ he growled.
    â€˜You dinna need to tell me that!’
    â€˜Mr Meldrum says manners maketh man,’ observed Jamie.
    â€˜The dominie wouldna ken a man if he found ane in his soup,’ Jeems said contemptuously, ‘the dried up auld maid that he is.’
    Mysie’s eyes flashed. ‘Dinna speak like that in front o’ the bairn. If you were a man yoursel’, you’d be oot lookin’ for Sandy, nae runnin’ doon the dominie.’
    â€˜You watch your tongue,’ he snarled, ‘an’ Meldrum would be a better a man if he’d ever had a wumman.’ He took another big bite out of his oatcake. ‘Sandy canna be far awa’, let Jamie look for him. Aff you go, noo.’
    The boy went out reluctantly, and, not daring to argue with her husband any more, Mysie finished her own first course and rose to dish up the curds and whey. She’d added rennet to the milk first thing in the morning to make sure it would be set firmly. ‘Here’s your yerned milk.’ She set his plate down with a thump, ‘an’ there’s nae mair bannocks, you’ve eaten them a’.’
    â€˜I just had three wi’ my kale!’ he roared. She tried to placate him. ‘I’ll be bakin’ the morn again, but I just havena had time the day. I’d to wash Sandy’s breeks an’ the packman was here for a while.’
    â€˜You was speakin’ when you should ha’e been attendin’ to your jobs? Christ, I never thought you was such a lazy bitch.’
    â€˜I aye gi’e Jockie a cuppie tea,’ Mysie said, nervously, for she could see that he was itching for a proper quarrel.
    Jeems was ready to go back to work when Jamie burst in. ‘I couldna see Sandy nae place,’ he gasped breathlessly. ‘I went right to