Empty Nets and Promises by Denzil Meyrick Read Free Book Online Page A

there’s great drops either side o’ us. We’re heading onto the Piper’s Pass.’
    â€˜And that’s jeest where my story begins,’ said Hamish. ‘The Raglan shepherd – och, a way back in the last century – was comin’ back fae an evening in Kinloch. It was a summer night – no’ like this one – warm, great big sky, a beautiful day.’
    â€˜Aye, it’s certainly no’ like this one,’ muttered Geordie, his windscreen wipers at full tilt.
    â€˜Anyhow,’ said Hamish, frowning at his story being interrupted. ‘The Raglan fella wisna worried in the slightest. He had a wee cottage jeest past the Piper’s Pass, an’ his horse – Jessie wiz her name – knew the road that well that the only reason he’d tae hauld the reins was so he’d stay on board, so tae speak.
    â€˜Everything was going jeest dandy, but then they came upon the Piper’s Pass. Jessie fair whinnied, though she’d been there a hunner times afore.’ Hamish’s voice lowered to a whisper. ‘The Raglan shepherd didna take any notice. He wisna a very sensitive man when he was sober, an’ wae the drink he could be wile an’ ignorant.’
    â€˜I’m sure you’ve never telt me that bit before, Hamish,’ said Hoynes.
    â€˜Being here’s fair making the story come tae mind mair vividly, skipper. Noo, if you don’t mind . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘He was near nodding off – the whisky bottle near copin’ oot o’ his grip – when he heard it. Distantly at first, then quite clear . . .’
    â€˜Was it Geordie’s windscreen wipers?’ joked Hoynes. ‘They’re screechin’ fit tae burst here.’ The driver scowled at Hoynes.
    Hamish soldiered on. ‘The pipes make the hair on the neck o’ any Scotsman worthy o’ the name stand up at the best o’ times, but this pibroch . . . man, it was fair ethereal. The tune echoed off the hills, in and oot. And then . . . he saw it !’
    Ralph jumped in surprise.
    â€˜Whoot did he see?’ asked Geordie, despite himself.
    â€˜A figure swathed in tartan – in a philibeg no less – walking calmly doon the steepest part o’ the pass, pipes slung o’er the shoulder, the tune fair deafening him.’
    â€˜And what happened then?’ gulped Bertie he took a glug of the clear stuff from the lemonade bottle.
    â€˜Well, Jessie had seen enough. She reared up, and, of course, her normally being a cuddy o’ sublime temperament, the Raglan shepherd wisna ready for such an event,’ said Hamish. ‘He coped off the back o’ her and landed wae a crack on the groond.’
    â€˜I’m guessin’ he didna spill his whisky, though,’ remarked Hoynes dryly.
    â€˜Ne’er a drop. Aye, an’ he was fair glad o’ it, tae. Jessie jeest bolted – ran back doon the pass, her mane fleein’ oot behind her like the hair o’ a wraith, leaving the Raglan shepherd pinned tae the groond; the fall having fair incapacitated him. He could see the figure blawing at the pipes advancing on him in a steady, relentless march . . .’
    â€˜Bloody awkward position to be in,’ said Ralph.
    â€˜Och, there was naethin’ else for it,’ Hamish continued. ‘He took a right good charge o’ his whisky and shouted tae the piper: “You, you’ve frightened my guid cuddy and left me here no’ able tae move. Dae your worst, for you can hardly better the damage you’ve done tae me already.”’
    â€˜Aye, he was brave, right enough,’ said Hoynes, raising an eyebrow.
    â€˜The pipes stopped. Jeest stopped deid. The piper, though, kept on coming.’ Hamish drew in a deep breath. ‘It was only then that the Raglan shepherd got really feart . . .’
    â€˜He wisna too canny, then, if it took him