Violet’s Journal

S UNDAY , 11 TH N OVEMBER , 1928

It was a relief to return to Edinburgh, immersing myself back into the routine of my studies and the work in the Herbarium. Neither of the trips north with Callum, to my home and to his, had exactly been a rip-roaring success. But the night of Samhain had fully cemented our bond and I know, more than ever before, that he’s the man I want to spend my life with.

He was silent on the train ride back to the city, his face turned to the window to watch the countryside pass by. I guessed what was on his mind. When we rattled across the Forth Bridge and the city came into view in the distance, I took his hand and said, ‘It doesn’t matter what our parents think. All that matters is that we love each other.’

He gave my fingers a squeeze, and I felt the reassuring strength in his own, but there was a sadness in his eyes when he turned towards me. ‘I love you more than anything on this earth, Vi. But I can’t ask you to sacrifice your position in society for me. I want to be able to support you, to give you the life you deserve. Instead, being married to me would deprive you of your friends and family and many of the choices that are your birthright.’

‘So you’re thinking of asking me to marry you, are you?’

He laughed and reached up with his other hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, the tenderness of his gesture making my heart turn a sudden somersault. ‘That is what you take from what I’ve just said? I’m telling you how impossible it is.’

‘No,’ I replied firmly. ‘It is most certainly not impossible. Don’t tell me that. All I know is how much better my life would be with you. And if you feel the same way about me then nothing should stand in our way. We’ll find work, make a home together. Once I’ve finished my course, perhaps we can look for a position together as gardeners on an estate in the south, far away from the judgement and disapproval of your parents and mine. Or we can stay in Edinburgh. You can carry on your work in the Botanics and I’ll make a living with my paintings. There is such a demand for illustrating the new specimens coming to these shores from the expeditions. We will find a way.’

His eyes still held doubt, but I saw a glimmer of hope there alongside it. ‘It would be a sacrifice, Vi.’

‘What, giving up the opportunity to marry some stuffy neighbour of my parents and never be allowed to get my hands into the earth again? It’s not much of a sacrifice, Callum, if in return I get to see where life’s adventures take me, with you by my side.’

He relaxed then, his more usual broad smile spreading again across his face. ‘I do love you so, Violet Mackenzie-Grant.’

‘As I do you, Callum Gillespie.’

We were both silent for a mile or so as the train steamed onwards into the outskirts of the city. And then I said, ‘So what was it you were saying about marriage?’

He laughed. ‘Of course I want to marry you, Vi. And I’ll buy you a ring to prove it, just as soon as I’ve saved up enough. But I do want to be able to provide for you, at least a little. So would you be prepared to wait until I can afford to give you a roof over your head?’

I nodded, thinking of the roof of the bothy the night before, the Samhain stars shining through the holes in it. The simple shack had been more than enough, and I’d felt a deeper contentment lying there with him beside me than I’d ever known before. But I understood that he felt the need to establish himself, that for his sense of self-esteem he needed to be able to give me that. Just as I too needed to prove I could stand on my own two feet. The least I could do was respect it in him. It only made me love him more.

‘We’ll save every penny,’ he said. ‘Then by the time you finish your studies we can marry.’

And so it was that I alighted at Waverley Station betrothed to my true love and happier than I had ever known it possible to be.

Arriving at the Herbarium the next morning, I was sure our colleagues must see all that had passed between us, Callum’s eyes meeting mine and filling with golden light as soon as I walked through the door. But as usual the other botanists scarcely acknowledged me, as I hung my coat on the back of the door and took my place at the workbench where Callum was already unpacking specimens from a newly arrived tea chest. It was stamped with exotic-looking characters and the words Produce of Darjeeling. He pulled out a newspaper-wrapped parcel and carefully opened it, revealing a species of rhododendron that we hadn’t seen before. His hand brushed mine as he passed it across to me, and I held it up to the light to study it more closely. Then I reached for my paintbox and my sketch pad and was soon absorbed in my work, only raising my head now and again to smile across at him as he leafed through a heavy book, methodically identifying each plant or setting aside those that appeared to be previously unknown.

Just before lunchtime, the door opened and there was a slight stir amongst the others in the workroom that made me look up. To my surprise, the Regius Keeper himself stood there. He exchanged a few quiet words with the principal curator, Dr Kay, and then beckoned to Callum. I opened my eyes wide and gave him a smile of encouragement as he grabbed his jacket and hurried to follow the two men out of the room. The door closed behind them and, after a flurry of muttering amongst the others, quietness fell once more as we got on with our work.

It was a raw, grey day, the east wind blustering amongst the trees in the gardens, so I made my way to a sheltered spot behind one of the potting sheds to eat my lunch. I knew Callum would come looking for me there, once he had finished whatever business the Regius Keeper had with him. Sure enough, a few minutes later he appeared.

His face shone with excitement, but it seemed to be mixed with something else too, some sort of doubt. He grabbed both my hands in his. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first and I realised he was struggling to contain his emotions.

‘Well,’ I said, drawing him down to sit on the bench beside me. ‘It must be good news, so put me out of my misery.’

‘Oh Vi,’ he said. ‘It’s the best news, I think. I’ve been asked to accompany Colonel Fairburn on his next expedition to Nepal! One of their number has dropped out, so they’re in need of another pair of hands, someone who can collect specimens and prepare them properly. And they’ve chosen me!’

I flung my arms around him, knowing how much it meant. The experience would make him an expert in the field, furthering his career and giving him the recognition he so deserved. At the same time, I swallowed a gulp of sadness at the thought of the two of us being parted by such a distance.

‘When do you leave?’

‘Very soon! We sail from Southampton in a week’s time. I know it’ll be hard for us being apart, but Vi, this is just the break I need. I’ll make enough money from this one expedition to be able to afford a place for us. It means we can marry as soon as I come home. Who knows, it may open up all sorts of other doors too. It’s a chance to change our lives.’

I listened as he told me the plans. He’d be away for much of the coming year. The aim was to spend this winter in the southern part of Nepal, when the climate of the tropical forests and plains would be more bearable, before the expedition began to climb into the mountains in spring so that they could spend as much time there as possible exploring that largely uncharted territory.

‘I’ll miss you so terribly, Vi.’

‘I’ll miss you too. But I’ll be waiting for you back here. And I’ll look forward to opening the specimen cases you send back and seeing your initials on some of the notes.’

‘Maybe I’ll discover a new species. And then I can name it after you. Wouldn’t that be a good wedding present?’ His doubts set aside now, his enthusiasm bubbled over, and I tried hard to make mine match it. I think I succeeded because he didn’t seem to notice the way I forced the tone of my voice to sound bright and cheerful. I wondered about it later. Why was I not as joyful as he was at the news? Perhaps I was just envious of him having the opportunity to travel to the places I could only dream of visiting, leaving me stuck in the damp winter chill of the Herbarium. Yes, it was only that, I told myself firmly, squashing the anxiety niggling in the back of my mind at the dangers he would face.

He hugged me before we parted that afternoon. He returned to his workbench to attempt to concentrate on the task in hand – although I knew his mind must surely be filled with plans for the expedition ahead of him – and I walked away, hurrying through the rain to get to an evening lecture, not daring to glance back in case he saw the tears in my eyes as the last leaves tumbled from the branches of the trees above me.

T UESDAY , 1 ST J ANUARY , 1929

Callum must have posted the letter and present he sent almost as soon as he reached Nepal to make sure it reached me in time for Christmas. Hetty brought the small brown paper parcel to me in my room when I arrived at Ardtuath House, knowing what it must mean to me. Coming home again was a part of my camouflage, to make my father and brother believe I was toeing the line they’d drawn for me. Hetty was the only one I’d taken into my confidence and so she’d intercepted the package when the postie delivered it, keeping it hidden until my arrival.

Callum’s neat handwriting – so familiar from the notes he wrote on the entries he used to make in the plant catalogues when we worked alongside one another – brought tears to my eyes, juxtaposed as it was with the crumpled and stained wrappings that spoke of its journey from Kathmandu to Aultbea. I’d received a handful of postcards from him in Edinburgh since he left just over a month ago, sent from the ports where the ship had docked on the way to India. I treasured every single one of them, even though the messages were brief and necessarily a little formal since he knew they would have to pass through the hands of my landlady at The Laurels.

‘It’s lovely having you home, Vi,’ Hetty said as she watched me begin to tug at the string tied around the parcel.

I set it aside for a moment and turned to hug her tight, my sisterly enthusiasm dislodging one of the pins that held her hair back from her pretty face in a rather too severe French pleat. ‘And it’s lovely to see you,’ I said. ‘I want to hear all about the plans for the wedding just as soon as I’ve unpacked.’

She grimaced, fiddling with the large sapphire engagement ring that sparkled on her left hand. ‘There’s no danger of you NOT hearing all about them. Ma can talk of nothing else.’ She gave a short laugh.

I held her at arm’s length for a moment and looked at her searchingly. ‘But you are happy, aren’t you, Het?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m contented, Vi. Rufus is a kind man. And it’s a relief to know I’ll have a home of my own and be well taken care of. Charles and Helen are going to be living here at Ardtuath soon, now Pa has decided to hand over the running of the estate to him. Heaven only knows, moving into the north wing with Pa and Ma would drive me completely potty. Rufus’s proposal came at an opportune moment.’

She couldn’t conceal the flatness in her voice though. ‘Oh Hetty, are you completely sure you want to marry Rufus?’ I said. ‘He’s so much older, and not having children of your own is a big sacrifice to make.’

She smiled, shaking her head. The stone in her ring flashed as she raised her hand to smooth back the lock of her hair I’d dislodged and pin it firmly in place. ‘I shall try to be the best stepmother there ever was. I truly am fond of him, and of Arabella and Angus too. It gives me a sense of purpose, having a role to play in trying to make up in some little way for the mother they’ve lost, and supporting him. And it will be exciting to live in London, when we’re not up at Shieldaig. The house there is in one of the best squares. You must come and stay with us and we’ll visit Kew Gardens together.’ She patted my hand reassuringly. ‘You’re looking well, Vi. Gardening obviously suits you, even if you may be pining for your Callum.’ She glanced at the parcel lying on my bed. ‘I’ll see you downstairs shortly. There’s a fire in the drawing room so it’s almost frost-free for a change!’

I tugged at the string, but Callum had tied the knot so tightly I couldn’t make it budge, so in the end I resorted to unearthing my nail scissors from my case and cutting it. I unwrapped the most beautiful brown cashmere shawl – as fine as a cobweb and soft as thistledown. I buried my face in it, trying to detect a little of his natural scent of fresh air and wood smoke, but instead it smelled faintly of unfamiliar spices. I drew it over my shoulders as I settled on the bed, feet tucked up beneath me, to read his letter.

Namaste Guesthouse

Durbar Square

Kathmandu, Nepal.

Dearest Vi,

Well, we’ve reached Kathmandu at last and I’m very glad to have seen the back of ships and trains for the foreseeable future. When I stand still, I still feel as if the ground is pitching and swaying beneath my feet and my stomach churns all over again. We’ll be spending a while here as there are provisions to be found and arrangements to be made before we start for the mountains. I’ve met Colonel Fairburn at last and he is just as impressive as we’d heard. So far, our meetings have been brief and have related only to the practicalities of preparing for the next stage of the expedition, but I’m sure there will be opportunities to get to know him better in the weeks of trekking that lie ahead of us.

The city is a dirty, sprawling place, and I will spare you the description of my digs, not wanting to put you off your Christmas dinner. Suffice it to say, our Samhain bothy seems positively palatial by comparison. This is to be our base for the next few weeks as the weather is against us even in the subtropics here on the plain. I’m champing at the bit to get going, as you can imagine, but it will be a while until we can start exploring the more clement valleys in the hills north of the city, let alone begin to climb into the mountains. The other chaps laugh at my impatience and tell me to make the most of being here. Even though conditions in the city are grim, they say this is pretty luxurious compared to what we’ll be in for on the trek. I doubt the countryside will be as filthy though ... personally, I long for fresh air and a mountain stream to wash in. And hillsides covered with lilies the colours of the sunrise and poppies the colour of sky, just like you said on the first day we worked together.

I ventured out to the market this morning and found this shawl. I hope you like it. The woman I bought it from told me it’s called a ring pashmina, because it’s fine enough to pass through the wedding ring I will be buying you on my return. The colour reminds me of those hazelnuts we put on the fire. I hope you still feel the same way you did then. I miss you, Vi, and long for the day when we’ll be together again.

I’m going to finish up now because there’s a man leaving the expedition party today to return home to England, so he will take this with him and post it to Scotland from there. I want to be sure it’s waiting for you when you get to Aultbea for Christmas. The poor blighter’s health has taken a battering in the tropics and his skin has turned quite yellow. But the doctors here have given him some local medicine and say he should make a full recovery once he returns to Great Britain. The Colonel is paying for him to return by aeroplane from Delhi. He’s a decent chap.

Sending you all my love, Vi.

Callum

It was in church on Christmas morning that I realised I’ve been carrying a secret within me ever since the night of Samhain. As usual, the first carol was ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, but as I sang the words ‘ Where a mother laid her baby in a manger for his bed ’, a thought struck me. I stopped singing and instinctively laid a hand on my belly, imagining I could already feel a slight thickening there. It explained my feelings of tiredness and a faint nausea, which I’d put down to missing Callum and the hard work of the last few weeks since his departure. The gesture made Hetty glance down towards my lap and then she quickly looked straight ahead again. But I saw the colour drain from her cheeks, and the way she studiously avoided catching my eye told me she, too, had realised at that moment. I took a deep breath and we both began singing the words of the second verse.

Once the service was over and we’d emerged from the kirk, she drew me to one side. Ma and Pa were busy shaking hands with the minister at the door. She didn’t say a word, but she put her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Sudden tears sprang to my eyes as I leaned against her because it was as if she was hugging my baby too. In that moment, I knew she would continue to help me keep my secret.

‘We’ll talk later,’ I whispered, and she nodded, then let go of me and we followed our parents back through the little graveyard to the waiting car. Charles and Helen had arrived by the time we got home, bringing little Alec with them. The dear wee soul was dressed up in a sailor suit and was allowed to come and show us his new spinning top in the drawing room, until Nanny whisked him away to the nursery to eat his lunch.

Hetty and I didn’t have a moment to ourselves until the evening. Charles dominated the day, as usual, although he seemed in fairly good spirits for once, holding forth on his plans for the estate and his imminent move to the big house. I was thankful for him distracting Ma and Pa, so they didn’t notice me pushing the sprouts around my plate and scarcely swallowing a sip of the fine claret with which Pa insisted on making a special toast to Hetty’s last Christmas at Ardtuath. I saw my sister’s frequent glances in my direction, though, but she was careful to provide a distraction too, engaging Helen in conversation about the furniture she’d like to keep in the main part of the house when Ma and Pa moved into the north wing.

Helen is a dear soul, a far nicer and gentler wife than our brother deserves, and she looked across the table at me and said, ‘Violet, I know you love Edinburgh and will probably go on to become a famous flower arranger like Mrs Constance Spry, whose shop I’ve just been reading about in The Lady magazine, but I want you to know there will of course always be room for you here with us at Ardtuath. Little Alec would love having at least one of his aunts around. And you could always redesign the gardens here. I know Mrs Hanbury would love to be able to talk about plants with you at Inverewe as well, just as you used to do. So you will bear us in mind, won’t you?’

I knew she meant well. But the thought of Charles’s face when he heard Alec would have a baby cousin within the coming year – the illegitimate child of his wayward younger sister and a mere gardener – almost made me choke on the piece of pudding I was attempting to swallow. I felt as if the walls were closing in around me and a sudden flush of heat overcame me. Do NOT faint! I told myself firmly, knowing it would only draw attention and make them fuss, asking questions that might arouse suspicion about my predicament. Hetty quietly topped up my water glass and pushed it a little closer before filling hers and Helen’s too.

I was thankful to get up from the table and flee to the bathroom, where I splashed my face with cold water before rejoining Ma, Hetty and Helen in the drawing room. The menfolk were obviously still smoking their cigars in the dining room and for once I didn’t resent the women being banished. One single whiff of that pungent smoke would surely have made my stomach heave. Wee Alec was there and I sank to my knees beside him on the floor, making up a game with his box of model cars.

At last, Charles proclaimed it time to leave. Nanny gathered everything up and Helen took Alec by the hand, bringing his dear little face up to each of us for a kiss goodbye. Once we’d waved them off down the drive, I made my excuses and retired to my room. A few minutes later, I wasn’t surprised to hear a quiet tapping on my door and opened it to find Hetty standing there.

Without a word, I pulled her inside and closed the door behind her. She sat on the edge of my bed and drew me down to sit alongside her. We looked at one another in silence and then she said, ‘I have just two things to say, Violet.’

I braced myself, expecting a lecture.

‘The first is, I’m so very happy for you. I know how much you love Callum. There are people who will condemn what you’ve done, but I am not one of them. Don’t let this be anything but joyful for you and your child.’

My hug, squeezing the air out of her lungs, prevented her from telling me the second of the things she wanted to for a few moments.

When she could breathe again, she went on, ‘The other thing I wish to say is that I will do whatever you want to help you and support you. If it means calling off my own engagement, then so be it. Perhaps we can rent a little cottage in the country somewhere, far away from Ardtuath and from our brother, who will surely explode when he hears the news, and I will live with you and help support you financially until your baby is born and Callum comes home.’

I was stunned she’d managed to give it so much thought, even as she’d carried on so calmly throughout all the other demands of the day. I’d scarcely been able to absorb the realisation of my condition, let alone think about practicalities and imagine what it might mean for the rest of my family.

Once I could find the words, I said, ‘Absolutely not, Hetty. I won’t let you sacrifice your chance to make some sort of a life for yourself on my account. You must marry Rufus. And, besides, his children need you. How lucky they will be to have you there.’

She shook her head, then reached out her hand a little tentatively and placed it gently on my stomach, just below the waistband of my frock. ‘This child will be my niece or nephew ... a blood relation. If I have to choose then I’ll stay with you until it arrives safely in the world. You can’t do this on your own, Vi, and with Callum so far away I don’t see any other option.’

‘I can’t let you do that.’ I placed my own hand over hers. ‘What will your life be if you give everything up for me? This ... situation ... is only for a few months. You have so many years ahead of you.’

I thought about the years to come. I’d be all right once I had Callum by my side again, but there were going to be some very hard months ahead when I – and my baby – would be shunned and berated and looked down upon.

Hetty was quiet for a few moments, thinking. ‘Callum’s parents live in Perthshire, don’t they? Do you think they might take you in?’

I gave a hollow laugh, recalling Mr Gillespie’s demeanour on my one and only visit. ‘It would probably mean his father would lose his position and their home on the estate. That is most definitely NOT an option.’

‘Could you try to stay on in Edinburgh for a few more months, whilst your condition is not obvious, I mean? Then perhaps I can ask Rufus if we can find you somewhere nearer us ...’ She tailed off, a frown creasing her forehead, and I think we were both imagining her fiancé’s reaction when she told him his new sister-in-law was to bring disgrace upon his family as well as her own.

‘Oh Het, you are such an angel. But I won’t let this affect your future security. It’s my predicament and I shall just have to find a way to manage it until Callum comes home and we can bring up our child together. I know it will be all right.’ How, though, I wondered. I’d be told to leave the gardening school and my digs as soon as my condition began to show, so finishing the course I’d dreamed of for so long wasn’t an option any more either.

Hetty wept on my shoulder then and I smoothed her hair and patted her back, my eyes dry. I looked around at my childhood bedroom, at the mirrored dressing table, and the walls papered with rosebud sprigs, and the pink candlewick counterpane softened with age. Would my own child ever know such comfort? Then I felt a surge of new determination. Hetty was right, I mustn’t allow anything to take this joy away from me. I would protect my child. I would not let society stigmatise us and take away our happiness.

We sat like that for a while, Hetty with her sorrow and I with my new sense of fierce protectiveness for my baby. Then at last I patted her back and got to my feet, saying, ‘Time for bed, Het. We’re both in need of a good night’s sleep after all the emotion of today. Things will look better in the morning. They always do.’

But I tossed and turned for hours, fretting about what I should do to make a life for my child. I must have exhausted myself with my worrying, though, because I woke in the darkness, before the first glimmer of morning light could creep through the crack in the curtains, and my sister was shaking me.

‘I know what we can do, Vi,’ she said. Her hair had escaped from its plait, forming a wild halo around her face. Judging by the shadows under her eyes, she hadn’t slept much either. ‘I have enough money saved up. I know you’ve had to spend every penny of your allowance to be able to live in Edinburgh, but I’ve had nothing to spend mine on. I can buy you a ticket and you can go and find Callum. Tell him about your baby. He will think of a way to make it all right. You can get married in India, or Nepal, or wherever it is he is now, and then come home again. Or you could stay out there until he can come back with you. So many women are colonial wives these days. Spending time living abroad is quite respectable now. And surely there must be some decent accommodation for you to stay in whilst he’s off hunting for plants? You’ll probably be able to have help around the house, so you won’t be on your own. Then, when you come back to Scotland together, with your baby, time will have passed, and everything will be fine again.’

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, trying to absorb what she was saying. My thoughts were as jumbled as my emotions. She was offering me salvation, but the plan was a wild one, filled with risks.

‘No, Het, I can’t possibly take your money. For one thing, I doubt I’ll ever be able to pay it back – and that’s just talking about the money, never mind the rest of the debt I’d owe you ...’ Even as I said it, though, I was thinking how much better it would be for all of us if I were out of sight and out of mind. It would save face, not just for me and my unborn child, but for Hetty and our parents, and Charles and Helen too. My protestations tailed off and we sat in silence for a minute as I imagined the possibility of a life on the other side of the world, far away from the judgement and disapproval of Scottish society, closer to Callum, raising our child in a place where the horizons stretch far wider than they do here. The surge of strength I’d felt the night before, born of protectiveness for my baby, had seeped away in the dark, sleepless hours, replaced by doubts and fears. But it returned now as the grey light of dawn suffused the room and my sister offered me a lifeline.

Hetty scanned my face, no doubt reading my thoughts. Then said, more quietly, ‘You know this is by far the best plan, Vi. Didn’t you tell me it’s possible to get an aeroplane ticket? We could get you out there within the next few weeks, before Callum’s expedition leaves for the mountains. We’ll tell everyone you couldn’t bear to be apart from him, that you wanted to be closer, and you’re determined to see what opportunities there might be to do some botanising of your own over there. You’ve always been so headstrong; people will be a bit exasperated with your flightiness, but everyone will take it at face value.’

I knew she was right. The last words she said to me, as she saw me off at the station at Achnasheen three days later, were, ‘I’m glad you have this love in your life, Vi. Remember, there is no shame in it.’ I saw the wistfulness in her eyes then and hugged her tight.

‘I wish, with all my heart, that you will know such love too,’ I whispered. She squeezed my shoulder, extracting herself from my grasp, and turned away as the conductor blew his whistle and shouted, ‘All aboard!’

I pressed my hand to the window, and she raised hers in reply as the train drew out, putting the first yards of an unimaginably long distance between us.

And now I’m back at The Laurels, and just as soon as the banks reopen after the Hogmanay holiday Hetty will transfer the funds for my ticket. I’ve already begun packing my things, preparing for the journey ahead and a new life in Asia. Kathmandu doesn’t sound like the most suitable place to have my baby, but I’ll see Callum there and we can decide where best to base ourselves. Northern India could be promising as there are hill stations where the British memsahibs go to seek respite from the heat in the summer. If Callum and I can marry in Nepal, then perhaps I can establish myself in Darjeeling in the spring and the colonial wives will accept me and offer support when the baby arrives at the end of July.

Writing this in my journal is a good way of putting off the things I must do next. I’m trying to pluck up the courage to write the letter I’ll need to post to my parents and the one I’ll ask Marjorie to deliver to Miss Morison when classes resume next week. I hate deceiving people, but there’s no alternative. I’m doing it to protect everything and everyone I love. I’m doing it to make the best possible future for us all.

In my mind’s eye, I can still see the smile in Callum’s eyes that night in the bothy when I said, Sometimes you just have to throw your heart into the river of life and dive in after it.

I can picture the way his face will light up when I arrive in Kathmandu too and tell him the news of our child. And that gives me the courage to make this leap.