The four men, rambunctious from both the alcohol flowing through their veins and the infectious glee sparking in the air around them like a whirling tornado of fireflies, shouted three boisterous ‘hurrahs’ into the chill of the Highland night. The sudden volume of their cries prompted a startled flock of birds to take flight from an oak tree nearby, and the men all jumped with fright … and then burst into a bout of laughter at their own antics.
‘Aye,’ Michael said after the laughter had died down. ‘Were it no’ fir Sir MacTaggart’s kindness, why, who knows where we’d be? Perhaps we’d all ay died from sooty cancer years ago, worked tae death in the flues ay London by tha’ horrid auld Mr Goode.’
‘Crikey, I’m thankful we escaped tha’ fate,’ Paul said. ‘Auld Goody-Goode was a right bastard, he was. I wonder what became ay him, though?’
‘It doesnae matter,’ William interjected, a darkness clouding his face. ‘Davy paid the ultimate price fir tha’ scum’s greed an’ cruelty. It was because ay poor Davy’s passing, suffocatin’ tae death in tha’ chimney, tha’ we four escaped tha’ life. I’ll tell you lads what, not a day goes by wherein I dunnae think ay poor wee Davy. He should ha’ been here wi’ us, he should ha’. You know, I sometimes dream about him, I dae. I dream about tha’ day, about goin’ up tha’ flue tae pull him out. Crikey, if only I’d been but a few seconds faster!’ He sighed and shook his head as he continued. ‘Lads, you dunnae know how much his death has haunted both my dreams an’ my wakin’ life. Regret, lads, regret is a ball an’ chain around your leg tha’ you cannae e’er break off, nor find the key fir. An’ poor wee Davy’s life – an’ the fact that I could ha’ saved him, but didnae – is a great iron weight, draggin’ forever behind me on a rusty chain. Tha’ metal is melded tae my very bones, lads, tae my very bones.’
Andrew, who had been silent while they had walked and talked, rested a sympathetic hand on William’s shoulder.
‘Will, boyo, you cannae blame yersel’ fir wha’ happened tae wee Davy,’ he said in his lilting voice. ‘We were all there, lad. We saw you go up tha’ flue; you went as fast as you could, hell, far faster than any ay us could ha’ ascended it. You did all tha’ was humanly possible. I remember you comin’ out ay tha’ fireplace, clear as day, as if it had happened but this very mornin’. Your elbows, knees an’ shoulders were dark an’ slick with freely flowin’ blood, an’ they didnae ha’ an inch ay skin left on ‘em. You were shakin’ like a leaf in a gale, an’ your wee chest was heavin’ up an’ down from exhaustion. Crikey man, you almost killed yoursel’ in your efforts tae try get poor Davy out. There’s no blame on your shoulders fir wha’ happened. No, Will, none whatsoe’er. The fault lies squarely on Goody-Goode’s shoulders, but I somehow doubt tha’ tha’ vile man has any trouble sleepin’ at night at all. An’ what’s more, Davy wasnae the first ay Goode’s chimney sweeps tae suffocate tae death in a flue. Tha’ monster treated all ay us like pack mules, he did. Worked us poor bastards tae death, an’ then when tha’ happened, he’d just go on over tae the parish house an’ buy a couple ay new orphans.’
‘My brother’s right, Will,’ Paul added. ‘There’s no blame tae be laid upon you. You did everything humanly possible tae save Davy. Everything. Sometimes bad things simply happen, an’ there’s nowt we can dae about it. Nowt at all but accept tha’ they’ve happened an’ try tae move on, an’ keep pushin’ forward against whate’er life happens tae throw at us.’
The four friends strolled along the lane in silence, listening to the alternating ebb and flow of the wind as it came on in waves, rustling and whispering and occasionally howling with sudden anger through the leaves of hedges, shrubs and trees.
‘What’s gonnae happen after this, lads?’ William asked after a while. ‘D’ye think we’ll stay on at Sir MacTaggart’s estate ‘til we’re auld an’ grey? Or d’ye think tha’ we’ll end up somewhere else, doing something completely different?’
‘I’m no’ sure, Will,’ Michael answered, his brow furrowed with uncertainty. ‘Fir a while now I’ve had an inkling tae, well, tae venture off an’ see the world. I mean, it’s right lovely up here in the Highlands, despite the bitter winters, an’ working fir Sir MacTaggart we’ve wanted fir nowt, fir he’s been an exceptionally kind an’ generous master, an’ has taught us many things … but, you know, as decent as life is fir us, I cannae help but wonder what the rest ay the great wide world looks like.’
‘Aye!’ Paul agreed, fired up with fresh enthusiasm. ‘Why, at the pub earlier, were we no’ all enthralled by the tales told by tha’ auld codger, what was his name, who had spent twelve years in the Cape Colony on the southern tip ay Africa?’
‘His tales ay the wilds an’ the kingdom ay the Zulus got me well excited!’ Michael exclaimed. ‘Crikey lads, imagine that! A vast wilderness, populated by uncountable scores ay wild beasts like lions, elephants, giraffes, rhinoceroses, hippopotamuses—’
‘Hippopotami, thank you Mikey,’ William interrupted with a swift grin and a wink, prompting a chuckle from all of them. Michael, however, continued with his speech.
‘Hippopotamuses, hippopotami, it doesnae matter does it? The point is, there are vast areas ay the world, filled wi’ incredible wonders, wonders the likes ay us lads ha’ ne’er seen! Think how bloody marvellous it would be tae see such places wi’ our very own eyes! Think ay tha’, lads, think ay tha’!’
‘Oh, I dunnae about tha’ mysel’,’ Andrew said.
