Capital Union, A Read Online Free PDF

my throat as the wheels began to wind the tape from one reel to the other with a slow, grinding sound. He pressed pause and told me to talk about a typical day on the farm. ‘What did you do this morning?’ he asked, and pushed the microphone closer to me. It was easier to speak now he’d told me what to say, and he scribbled in his notebook , saying, ‘Marvellous, marvellous, it is pure Burns, poetry.’ I blushed, and he leant forward and said, ‘I’m so grateful to you, Agnes. Ayrshire lives in you. You are the living receptacle of an ancient tongue.’
    I had never been called a receptacle before, but he looked as if he wanted to lean forward and suck the words right outof me, so instead of laughing, I stood up and asked him if he wanted more tea. He made three more visits after that, always hungry for words, but when Mother suggested she might be able to help him, too, he said he really only needed one subject typical of each area and that I was doing nicely. ‘I’m sure she is,’ said Mother.
    ‘We’re hoping to get Scottish language and culture onto the university curriculum,’ said Jeff.
    ‘That would be a wonder,’ Mother replied. ‘It’s the language of plain folk, even when it hides behind a bonnier face than most. We were taught to speak properly at school.’
    ‘You underestimate your heritage,’ replied Jeff. ‘The speech of someone like Agnes would be the cornerstone of our research. I am a mere foot soldier in the fight against the totalitarianism of the English language and its bureaucracy.’
    ‘You’ve lost me there, Jeff,’ said Mother.
    ‘Its ideology spreads like tentacles through our native consciousness , suffocating the innate philosophy enshrined in our very speech; a democratic, socialist consciousness that is itself the enemy of fascism.’ He had jumped to his feet.
    ‘Well, it is braw that you care so much about the auld tongue,’ said Mother, ‘but you needn’t worry, I’m sure it is alive and well here, and always will be.’
    ‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Jeff.
    ‘Well, you tell me, how many angels can sit on a pin?’ said Mother. ‘There are some questions not even the cleverest man can answer, so I find it pays not to worry.’ She pulled the tea cosy down on the teapot she had just filled to signal the end of the discussion. She never liked people to get too heated. ‘Tell me again, do you take milk with your tea?’
    Those old days on the farm faded as I tidied my hair in the bathroom mirror, rolling it back round its foam shapers and pinning it in place. When I tilted my chin up, I looked a bit like Rita Hayworth. Then I took off my pinny and joined Jeff in the drawing room.
    ‘Much better,’ he said when I went through.
    ‘Now sit here,’ he said, pulling out a chair for me in the bay window, ‘and pretend you are at my talk.’
    I tried to look interested, like a good wife. The rain was still drumming down and the whole block creaked in the wind. There was a mark on my skirt. ‘Agnes?’ said Jeff, and leaning an elbow on the mantelpiece, he cleared his throat. He began to scan the pages without speaking.
    ‘I’m waiting,’ I said.
    He took a pencil from behind his ear and altered a line before turning to me. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that I have temporarily taken over as principal researcher for the Scottish Dictionary, following the sad death of the previous incumbent, who took this mighty work to “C”.’
    ‘“C” isn’t very far on,’ I said.
    ‘That is the point, Agnes. It is all still to do.’
    ‘How can you do it when there is a war on?’
    ‘Well, someone has to.’
    ‘But why now? Why not after it is all over? Aren’t you scared the Germans are coming? Mr Black said you will be writing a German dictionary if you don’t watch out.’
    ‘Did he? And what would a butcher know about the value of words?’
    ‘They say his son is in hospital down south. They weren’t sure he would