The Betrayal of Maggie Blair - By Elizabeth Laird Page 0,4
for the Lord's sake. Jeanie's pains are bad."
Granny's snores were as loud as the snorts of Mr. Macbean's bull in a rage, and I had to shake and shake her before she'd stir. When she did wake, she only pushed me off and tried to roll over.
"No, Granny! You must get up. Mr. Macbean's here, and the baby's on its way."
She opened one eye and glared at me, and even by the dying flame I could see that the drink was still on her. My heart sank.
"Get up, Granny. You have to."
The hammering on the door started again.
Granny lurched to her feet, took a deep swallow of water from the pail of water, and splashed her face.
"My shawl, Maggie," she croaked, and staggered to the door.
She was in no fit state; I could see that. I fetched my own shawl, still damp from yesterday, and followed her outside. She'd need me to bring her safely home.
Mr. Macbean was the one man in Scalpsie Bay rich enough to own a horse, and he had ridden it to our cottage. There was only a faint glimmer of light outside from the quarter moon, but he could see how far gone Granny was.
"Look at the state of her. Drunk," he said with disgust. "Tonight of all nights."
Without waiting for a word from Granny, he picked her up and heaved her onto the horse, then set off at a smart run up the lane, with me trotting along behind.
The cold night air, the jolting ride, and the water she'd drunk seemed to sober up Granny, because she was looking sharper when we reached the Macbean farm. It was the biggest holding for miles around, standing proud on its own land. Mrs. Macbean's serving girl, Annie, was standing outside the farmhouse door, twisting her apron around in her hands.
"Oh, it's you, Maggie," she said, pursing her mouth in the irritating way she put on whenever she saw me. "I thought it was a wild animal creeping up like that."
There was a hiss from Granny, who had heard her, and Annie shriveled up like a leaf held to a flame. I couldn't help grinning. Annie was only a servant, but she gave herself more airs than the lady of Keames Castle herself.
Mr. Macbean had plucked Granny off the horse, and she was already at the farmhouse door.
"Where is she?" Granny demanded, and I heard with relief that her voice was firm and clear.
Mr. Macbean led the way into the farm kitchen and beyond it to the inner room. There was a lamp burning there, and looking in I saw a proper bedstead, with sheets of linen and all, and a ceiling hiding the rafters, and a chest of carved wood. I was so impressed I barely noticed Mrs. Macbean, who was lying with her back arched and her face red and wet with sweat.
Then Granny said, "Where's that Annie girl? Fetch water, can't you? And the rest of you, give a body room to breathe."
By that time, the three older Macbean children were crowding around the door beside me, along with the manservant and Mr. Macbean himself, but Granny shut the door in our faces, and we were left standing in the kitchen.
I don't remember how long we waited, listening to the poor woman crying out in pain. I do remember the faces of the little Macbeans huddling close together, their eyes round with fear. I liked to be with children. I didn't often get the chance. I felt sorry for them, anyway, so I knelt beside them and said, "Your mammie's going to be fine, you'll see. While we're waiting, why don't I tell you a story?"
They nodded, and the smallest one, Robbie, put his thumb in his mouth.
"A while ago, not far from here," I began, "there was a seal who came out of the sea and took off her skin and turned herself into a beautiful..."
Mr. Macbean came in from stabling the horse.
"No more of that," he said roughly. "If it's stories you want, read them true ones from the Good Book. I won't have their heads filled with fairies and magic and the works of the Devil."
He took a Bible down from a shelf and put it into my hands. It was so heavy I had to rest it on my knees. I'd never seen such a big Bible outside the kirk before. Granny couldn't read, and there were no books in our house.
"Open it," Mr. Macbean said unpleasantly. "Read a story."