Chapter 8

The following morning Moira rang Jean Carnoustie who greeted her warmly and immediately asked about David.

"Back safely in one piece and coming up this afternoon to spend the week with me."

"Wonderful! I'm delighted for you both."

"Jean, the reason I'm ringing is to ask you for more help."

"Go on."

"I have decided that I shall be leaving to go home with David on Sunday. My brother is coming up from Liverpool on Saturday and the three of us are going to confront my father that afternoon. By then I shall have stocked the fridge, freezer and larder with enough to last him a week. He can replenish things the following Saturday. The thing is that I am not going to be able to arrange for someone to keep the house clean in that time. The local paper doesn't come out until Friday and I won't be able to arrange interviews even if I get offers in the time left. I wondered whether you knew of an agency I could apply to."

"Yes, dear, two. The first is run by a Social Services part-time volunteer called Lorna Gillivray. The other is run by Gill Waters. By all means tell them that I put you onto them." She gave Moira their telephone numbers.

"Jean, I'm so grateful. Thank you."

"No problem. Come back to me if they can't help you."

"Bless you, Jean. I'll get on to them right away. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, dear, and enjoy your fiancé's visit."

Moira rang Mrs Gillivray immediately. She liked the sound of her voice particularly when it became positively friendly at the mention of Jean's name. She asked about the size of the house and reckoned that it could be dealt with in two two-hour visits a week but said that she ought to look it over. They agreed to meet at ten on Thursday.

"There is a slight problem," Moira said hesitantly. "I'm arranging all this behind my father's back." She went on to outline the background.

"I don't foresee a problem, Miss Macintyre, but we can talk more about it on Thursday."

"Thank you very much, Mrs Gillivray. That's a huge load off my mind. I look forward to meeting you."

That did not stop Mrs Gillivray ringing her friend Jean that evening.

"Please help her, Lorna. We'll be obtaining a court order tomorrow to take her mother into care and then she needs to get away from her foul father, marry her fiancé and get on with her life again."

"Are we going to have trouble with her father?"

"I doubt you'll ever meet him. If he refuses to pay his bill drop him and let him sink or swim on his own. I'm much more concerned for Moira. She's a lovely girl and deserves her freedom."

"All right, my dear. We'll do it."

"Thanks, Lorna."

Now all Moira had to do was contain her excitement at David's imminent arrival. She had not seen him for two months and had had to undergo the worry of Sierra Leone as well. She was quite unable to eat lunch but did force herself to pay a fleeting visit to Bridget. She was home again by three and then had to fill in an hour and a half or more. She had an unnecessary shower and dressed in prettier clothes than she normally wore. She also put on the Scotty brooch that David had given her. Then she paced and fidgeted. By quarter past four she was stationed in the front room watching for his arrival. He was only five minutes late by her reckoning and she was standing at the front door the picture of joy and happiness as he arrived at it. She managed to stand aside to let him in and close the door behind him before she launched herself at him.

David caught her and they clung fiercely and silently to each other. Neither was able to marshal a coherent thought for all of two minutes. Instead emotion filled them: love, joy, happiness, relief but above all love. Finally, with tears pouring down their cheeks, they pulled apart and looked at each other as best they could. Back they went together but this time with Moira's head against his chest and his head resting on hers.

"Oh D-David, my D-David, my D-Dai," she murmured stutteringly. Her arms tightened around him. "I've missed you so much."

He kissed the top of her head. "Me too, my Moira, my precious little one."

"I worried about you too."

"I know and I worried about that and about this miserable business you're going through here."

He eased her away from him and their eyes met again. "Oh my precious," he whispered and then, gently tilting her head, touched his lips to hers. "'Cos that's what you are. My very, very special and wonderful Moira."

"Oh God!"

Her head went back against his chest and she clung to him.

Finally she released him and looked up at him with an almost shy smile. "Let's have a cuppa. We might become a bit more rational then."

She led him by the hand into the kitchen where, without letting go of his hand she filled the kettle, lit the gas and put the kettle on to boil. In the same way she took down two mugs, put a tea bag in each and added a spoonful of sugar to his. She turned back to him and pulled his head down for a rather bigger kiss. It was not a passionate one as such but spoke their love.

The kettle boiled and they broke for her to pour it.

"Let's stay in here," she said, "and then I can sit on your knee and we can still get at our mugs."

"OK."

"Time for another kiss."

They did that and then broke apart.

"Sit!" she ordered and then, with a skip and a whirl of sheer happiness went to pour the tea.

"You're looking lovely," David observed as she did so, "and I like your get up too."

"Thank you, kind sir," she smiled over her shoulder. "I couldn't meet you in my maid's outfit."

That made them both laugh which lessened the tension, not an unpleasant tension but rather a highly charged one of not fully expressible love and relief.

She put the two mugs of tea on the table, plonked herself down on his knee, wound her arms round his neck and kissed him; not a long, passionate kiss but it throbbed with love.