Highland Mary

Rabbie was taken aback. Had Lavender really said 'Vom!'? He didn't know what it meant. But he could think of only one word that began with 'vom' and the word was insulting.

She needs to understand me, he thought to himself.

When I was a lad.... he began.

Lavender settled back in her seat on the bus, and tried to look sleepy.

When I was a lad, said Rabbie, we were verra poor. Ma daddy was a tenant farmer.

Your daddy... said Lavender, sleepily.

Aye ma daddy, said Rabbie, he never could make a go of a farm. And neither could I and ma brother Gilbert, when we were grown. We lived in Ayrshire, ye ken.

Ken, said Lavender, was that your other brother?

Nooo, said Rabbie. Daft girlie. I was about to board the Nancy, a two-masted brigantine, for Jamaica. I had the promise of a book keepin' job there. Lucky for me I didna go. It was on a slave plantation. Imagine what that would ha' done for ma reputation wi' folks nowadays.

Lavender opened her eyes.

What? she said.

Never ye mind, if ye don't know. But 'twould ha done me some harm, and I may never ha' written ma most famous poems, said Rabbie. Do ye want to know what stopped me goin' to Jamaica?

No, said Lavender, yawning ostentatiously.

Aye, ye do, said Rabbie. It was two things. No, in fact it was three. No, four. Ma future wife Jean gave birth to twins, and though her daddy hated me, I was still hopin' to be her husband.

Her daddy hated you, said Lavender. Why?

'Twas because of the others, said Rabbie. Other maids, other bairns, as well as ma drinkin' and carousin', and that I hadna any money to ma name.

Daddies shouldn't be like that, said Lavender. Daddies should be NICE. And that means you as well. What was the third thing?

The third thing? said Rabbie. I'm glad ye're awake enough to ask. It was that I'd been persuaded to have a wee book o' poems published, to try and earn some money for ma trip to Jamaica, and just before I was due to set sail, I had the news that it was sellin' verra well. It was the beginnin' o' ma fame. What d'ye think o' that, wee shelly lassie?

Bor-ING! said Lavender. What was the fourth thing?

Oh, ma Highland Mary died. She was goin' to come wi' me to Jamaica.

Uh! You're disgusting! said Lavender. Are we there yet?