Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 - Page 116

Three Stages | Nicola Fitzhenry

First Era: Argyll, Scotland 1936

'Naebody ever knows whit happened here the day. Never.'

'Aye. Dae ye think ye needed tae tell me that?'

The two men were on all fours, bent over in the way they were used to seeing their wives do, scrubbing.

'It's hard work.'

'Aye, yir muther says it's the one job she hates the maist.'

'Aye, Ellen too.'

The words stuttered out as they jerked their arms backwards and forwards, scouring, cleaning.

'How d'ye think she'll dae? You know, I mean, she'll no be hurt for good?'

'Ellen and Mammy will know what to do A'hm sure. She's made of strong stuff, oor Cath.'

'But maybe no strong enough for this.'

The younger man looked at the stone floor, wet from his efforts, but less stained than it had been an hour ago.

'Whit'll we tell folk, Da?'