The Road to Rowanbrae by Doris Davidson Page A

Waterton, an’ the packman was there gettin’ some broth fae the cook, an’ he said Sandy turned back at Downies.’
    Jeems scowled. ‘He should ha’e been hame lang ago, an’ I’ll skelp his erse when I get my hands on him.’
    Mysie let this pass. ‘I’m sure something’s happened to him. Will you nae come wi’ me to look for him?’
    They had been searching the ditches at the side of the road for about twenty minutes when the boy said, ‘I’ve just minded. Sandy tell’t me he’d seen a martin’s nest doon the auld quarry.’
    Mysie was horrified. ‘I’ve aye tell’t the twa o’ you to keep awa’ fae there, it’s a dangerous place.’
    â€˜Robbie Duff took him last week, but they couldna reach the eggs, an’ Sandy said he’d try himsel’ sometime.’
    The old quarry was at the far side of the peat moss behind the mill, almost a mile off the road, and Jeems, having run off before Mysie could move, reached it well ahead of her. ‘He’s standin’ on a stane a bit doon,’ he said when she joined him, ‘and God kens how we’ll get him up.’ A pitiful wail from Sandy tore at her heart. ‘Thank God he’s still alive,’ she murmured, then, as her husband swung one leg over the edge, she cried, ‘You canna go doon there.’
    â€˜Somebody’ll need to go doon. No, wait! I’ll haud Jamie by the feet an’ let him doon slow, an’ Sandy can get haud o’ his hand, an’ I’ll pull them baith up.’
    â€˜Oh, God, is there naething else we can dae?’
    Ignoring her, Jeems hauled off his jacket and handed it to Jamie. ‘You’d best tak’ that in case you canna stretch far enough. Noo, we’ll baith lie doon, an’ I’ll haud you when you slide ower. I’ll nae let you go, so dinna be feared.’
    â€˜Will I nae run to the mill?’ Mysie implored. ‘I could get a rope fae Andra.’
    â€˜There’s nae time to waste, that stane could shift.’
    Her hands at her mouth, she watched Jamie edging towards the drop, his father’s huge hands round his ankles, but as the slim body disappeared over the edge, the weight made the man’s face muscles tighten. ‘You’d best haud my feet as weel, Mysie.’
    Although she knew that she didn’t have the strength to stop them falling if they slipped, she lay behind him and grasped his ankles, furious at Sandy for coming here when he had been told not to, and even more furious at Jeems for putting Jamie’s life in jeopardy, too. For what seemed like hours, she clung on doggedly, then Jamie’s strained voice floated up faintly. ‘I still canna reach him.’
    Groaning, Jeems made another strenuous effort, and Mysie was certain that they were inching forward. She couldn’t even be sure that her grip was holding, her hands were so numb, and was afraid that, when Sandy’s weight was added to Jamie’s, it would beat Jeems altogether.
    Another eternity passed before Jamie shouted, ‘He’s got haud o’ the jacket, Father! Pull us up!’
    Jeems heaved and heaved, and with one last tremendous pull, he had Jamie up and was stretching out a hand to Sandy, but only when both her sons were lying safely on the ground did Mysie burst into hysterical sobs.
    It was a long time before Jeems had enough breath to mutter, ‘It was a near thing – I couldna ha’e held them ony langer.’
    Jamie was first to move, but, as he went to give his father the jacket, he tripped over a hidden tree root. His arms beat the air for a split second, then, with a piercing shriek, and before any of the horrified watchers could do anything to stop him, he plunged straight down into the murky water at the foot of the disused quarry.

Chapter Six
    Some thirty minutes earlier, when he’d come out at the door of the mill to smoke