‘We never did think much of yon soldier. It makes no odds now, he’s gone and can’t provide for you both. Get yourself a proper job, prove to us you are a fit mother by doing something with your life and we’ll think again on the matter. Until then he stays with us, here by this hearth, the only place he knows.’

‘Where his future will be all mapped out for him. He’s not just from farming stock. How do you know he’ll want to be tied to Stratharvar?’

‘Because he is of Nichol stock as well as Kirkpatrick. We’ve been here as long as the oaks. He’ll grow up knowing no different, I’ll see to that. He’s the son I need to keep this farm on the map. Don’t deny him his chance or you’re no a daughter of mine.’

Netta was sobbing now, great gulps coming out with each words.

‘Please, don’t make me leave him behind… I’ve lost so much of his babyhood already.’ She turned to the playpen and the baby looked up, beaming a smile. ‘See, he’s beginning to know his own mother now. How could you be so heartless as to separate us?’

‘Netta, you must understand that it’s the best for Gus and his future. Don’t make it harder on yourself. If only you’d told us the truth from the start…’

She was no longer listening. She leaped from the table, slammed the door and strode down the braeside track to the Strathavar. She must tell Dr Begg what they were doing to her.

‘Be strong,’ said a voice in the wind. ‘This is a test of your strength, hold fast, child,’ whispered Rae’s voice in her inner ear. ‘You are his mother, you will always have a claim on him. Watch over him at all times, keep close to him whatever it costs you… one day… one day.’ ‘One day what?’ Netta cried out. ‘How can I exist if he’s not by my side?’

*

Netta ran all the way to Dr Begg’s house at Stratharvar, once the gracious grey-stone Rectory of the old Episcopalian Church, with high gabled roof and Georgian windows. The coach house was converted into a waiting room and surgery. She rang the bell at the side entrance where an elderly maid in starched apron and cap opened the door.

‘Oh, it’s you, Netta. Home from the wars at last, are we? They said you were away doing war work, and you with a bairn. Still Peg’s doing a grand job for you. He’ll make a fine farmer’s son for Angus. You’ll be wanting the doctor, I suppose? Go and wait across the yard. He’ll be in shortly.’