Martha Roberston, later Miller

Martha was born, like Lydia, in North Berwick in 1860. Her parents were rather overwhelmed by her talents, her preciousness, and were relieved when the role of raising her was more or less taken on by her neighbour Mrs Monkton. She was talented musically, and she and Lydia played concerts combining her violin, Lydia’s viola and the piano. A favourite trick of Martha and Lydia was to speak to each other in two foreign languages simultaneously, with any mistake being subject to a forfeit. Martha, at age 15 realised that she possessed no domestic skills whatsoever, so worked anonymously, and without pay, in a couple of local country houses during the summer holidays to learn to cook, bake and keep house (not that she expected to have to do any of these things). By 1888, she was sharing a life with Lydia, while working as a writer for a large Scottish educational publisher creating school text books (which Lydia routinely tested on her classes). She was also working on the “Great Scottish novel” as Lydia called it, but had never really got past the forty-fourth, or forty-fifth draft of chapters 1 to 3. Her greatest ambition, however, was to meet the composer Johannes Brahms, whom she revered, and travel to Germany to perform his music with the virtuoso pianist Madame Clara Schumann.

Suddenly, and without warning, Martha’s world collapsed. She received an anonymous letter which was, to all intents and purposes, notice of a forthcoming blackmail. The writer was threatening to expose the relationship between Martha and the “local esteemed headteacher”. Martha was horrified, but also puzzled, as no money or other ransom was being demanded. Martha was later to suspect that the motives of the blackmailer were more personal, as he, for she was convinced it was a man, most likely harboured their own designs on Lydia. Martha was in anguish for days. Although Queen Victoria was reputed not to believe in the existence of relationships between women, she doubted the school board would be as unenquiring. Martha, therefore, made the life-changing decision to move to Edinburgh. She left with the briefest of conversations, and neither she, nor Lydia was ever really the same again. She thought that that might be the end of the blackmail, but it wasn’t, and became increasingly vindictive. Martha realised that the only way to save herself, and Lydia, was to marry, thus proving that the blackmail had no foundation. She approached her friend James Miller, whom she knew to be homosexual, with a proposition of marriage. James, who had himself been the target of threats, immediately agreed. As Verity later recalled, although long before she knew the truth, they seemed like the best friends one could ever imagine, which, in truth, was what they both felt. They bought a house in Stockbridge, but it wasn’t long before the blackmailer found them, and started again. Jointly, they came up with the plan to have a child in the hope that that would put an end to their torment. Verity Rebecca Miller was born in 1892 and, thankfully, after that, the blackmailer gave up, leaving Martha and, more importantly to her, Lydia, safe from public humiliation.

After the birth of Verity and the ending of the blackmail, Martha did reach out to Lydia, and began to visit North Berwick from time to time. After Lydia moved into Marine Drive, Martha, and Verity, always stayed in a curious, round-shaped room which she called the “chart room”. Later, this was to become Verity’s room.

Martha was, much to her surprise, a good parent, supported by James. Verity later described her growing up as “project Verity”, a task which both parents approached with much enthusiasm and time.

By the time of the fire, Martha had completed her “Great Scottish novel”, and was actively seeking a London publisher, she’d gone back to playing Brahms and was an active member of a number of intellectual groups drawn from the Edinburgh professions, academics and foreign diplomats.

 

James Miller

James was born in 1859 in Perth, Scotland. He had attended ordinary schools, and, through hard work, was accepted to the University of Edinburgh School of Law. He was a studious boy both at school and university, and, while capable, was never brilliant. He rarely spoke about his student days, not even much later to Martha, or to Verity as she was herself preparing to begin studying. On graduating, he was unable to secure a suitable apprenticeship with an Edinburgh firm (being working class, reserved and, it was suspected by his teachers, homosexual), he went to work as Arthur Balfour’s private secretary covering his Scottish domestic and business affairs. This, by a roundabout twist of fate, was how, when accompanying Arthur Balfour, he met Lydia, then Martha, at an event in North Berwick hosted by Hattie. He and Martha became close friends, although two people could scarcely be less alike. Later, when James had become Librarian to the Faculty of Advocates (which he considered the best job in the world), and Martha had come to him with her proposal, he immediately accepted.

Verity always regarded James as a perfect father. He was the one who first encouraged her in science, and used his research skills and contacts to secure articles and text books to support her learning. He built her a small laboratory in the attic (teaching himself basic joinery as he did so).

By the time of the fire, James was considering an application to be the Chief Librarian to the Faculty, but was struggling with bouts of self-doubt, a trait he appeared to pass on to his daughter.