Free The Hanging of Margaret Dickson by Alison Butler

Patricks asks the highlander.
    Johnny turns to Patrick with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Aye, that’s what I used to call her when she was a wee bairn. Maggie was forever climbing trees all day, or running along the harbour to the rocks. Always covered in bruises, she was.’
    Patrick smiles at Johnny, noticing his mass of wild ginger hair. He likes the strange Highlander; and from what he can gather he appears to be a father figure to Maggie. The same cannot be said for Duncan. The man’s a bloody disgrace, he thinks, can’t even stay sober long enough for his only daughter’s marriage ceremony. He places a protective arm around his new bride as they walk to the wedding feast.
    The wedding party walk downhill towards the sea-mill, to the bottom of Kerr’s Wynd, and soon they come to a tall barn. The miller has kindly let them use one of his out-buildings, much to the displeasure of his bad-tempered wife. As the guests flock in, Widow Arrock, along with a number of the women, uncover the food. It’s taken all morning to prepare the feast under the watchful eye of the miller’s wife, the cause for the widow’s bad temper. Before the food is served, Minister Bonaloy gives a good speech, spinning yarns and telling jokes before introducing other speakers and proposing the first toast.

    ***

    The pipers and fiddlers assemble themselves at the back of the barn, some of them tuning up their instruments, others supping their ale. Meanwhile food and drink is served on long tables, and the delicious smell of the cooked chicken wafts around the room. After folk are fed and watered, a space is cleared on the floor, and before long people dance and children play fight on the dirt floor.
    Maggie grins at Patrick as he takes her hand in his own and leads her to the centre of the room. All around them people dance with the bleary look of people heading towards drunk but are not quite there yet. But alas, the same cannot be said for her father. He reached the point of inebriation long ago and to Maggie’s dismay he’s walking towards them.
    â€˜Allow me a last dance with my daughter, Patrick?’ he slurs.
    Patrick stands aside to let father and daughter say their goodbyes.
    As they begin to sway in time to the music, Duncan steps on her feet. Maggie grits her teeth and hopes for the tune to come to an end.
    â€˜We may not have seen eye to eye, Maggie, but I’ve done my best and I wish you well.’
    Maggie nods and turns her face away from him. ‘I know.’
    â€˜I’m proud of you lass, and I always will be. You’re a free spirit, just like me. So don’t let anyone change you. Do you hear me?’
    Duncan leans in close, so close Maggie can smell his alcoholic breath. ‘And before I depart let me give you a wee bit of advice. Learn to accept change, lassie, because nothing in this world remains the same. Remember that.’ He ruffles her hair as though she’s a dog and turns on his heel.

    ***

    A moment later the fiddlers pick up the tempo. Maggie searches the barn, eyes darting right and left for one man in particular. That kiss at the altar . She places a finger to her lips, her head’s still in a spin and there’s fire in her belly. After a while, she catches sight of the handsome minister and as usual he has a small crowd of adoring fans around him. She approaches him with conviction and holds out one hand.
    â€˜A dance with the bride, Minister Bonaloy?’ Maggie asks before taking his hand. A new jig begins – a lively one that requires them to link each other’s arms. After a while she clings to him, feigning exhaustion. From beneath her dark lashes she looks boldly into his green eyes.
    â€˜I’m not much of a dancer, Maggie. Sorry,’ he apologises, releasing his grip.
    â€˜Don’t go.’
    â€˜No, no,’ he musters. He can no longer meet her eyes.
    â€˜Are you committing adultery in your heart, Minister