Page 13 of From Scotland with Love

“How many people know about the baby?” Lori whispered.

“No-one yet, just me and Alan. I had to make sure you were going to come to the wedding, so I had to tell you.” Her eyes snapped up from her belly to meet Lori's, with a wild penetrating look. “But don’t pass that around to anyone else yet, OK?”

“Of course, it’s not my secret. You tell people once you’re ready.”

Tammy sighed and massaged the back of her neck.

“I think you need to do another job though Tam, working behind the bar and in this environment isn’t good, especially if you’re pregnant”

“Shhh!” Tammy looked furtively around the small shop “You know how bad this place is for gossip!” She whispered. “I enjoy the work. Seeing people, being part of the community. You wouldn’t know how that feels I guess.”

Lori dismissed the slight dig from her sister. “But you can’t keep it up in the long-term, you’ll have to stop soon!” Lori leaned closer to her sister beside the till.

“I know but right now, we need the money for the wedding. Alan will be away back on the rig next month, and then the baby will be coming. So, we’re on the hunt for any extra pennies we can get.” She rubbed her stomach again, looking down at the space where there would soon be a bump.

“I can help you; I have money, I have savings.”

“No!” Tammy raised her hand, bristling. “We don’t need help; we’ve got the wedding covered.” She sighed and shook her head, her face softening a little. “Thanks Lori, but we’ll be fine.”

Lori squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “By the way, you were great out there today. With all the chaos, with all those customers!”

“I do put on quite the show!” Tammy flourished her hands in a theatrical gesture.

“You do though - I could use someone calm and collected in the office like you. Have you ever thought about maybe doing a bit more with your life? I mean, you could be so much more. Do so much more!”

Tammy stood still for some moments then folded her arms. “What? Do something more with my life? Jesus Lori, how dare you!”

Immediately Lori backtracked. “No I don’t mean that, I just meant…”

“You think because we’ve all stayed at home, it means we don’t have a good life? Just because I haven’t traveled like you, and I don't have a nose for the finer things in life doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy my life! Should I be working all the hours under the sun for someone else, staring at a computer screen all day, and thinking about my next manicure? Frankly I don’t think you seem to be enjoying yours!” Tammy picked up a tray of cold sausage rolls and took them out the back.

“Tammy, you’re so sensitive!” Lori followed her sister. “I didn’t mean that, I just want the best for you!” She couldn’t help the anger rising in her voice. “And I didn’t come here to get my head bitten off, I came to discuss preparations for your wedding. Then I get thrown into dishing out pastries to the locals, who some, in my opinion, should think about easing off the sugar and butter instead of clearing your trays!” Lori regretted her snipe at their customers the second the words had left her mouth, especially after her breakfast the day before, and her own appetite for sweet treats. But she wanted to irritate Tammy for her comment about computers and manicures, particularly as it had been rather accurate. Just before Tammy could retort, Gran entered the shop, diffusing the situation with a dazzling smile and a sweep of her skirts.

“How are my wee women?” She radiated summer and elegance in a yellow dress and white sunhat.

Lori took off her apron and laid it on the counter. “We’re good Gran, just about to catch up on wedding business.” Lori looked over her shoulder to Tammy, who was fiddling around with a box to put the sausage rolls in. “Tam, why don’t you come over to the house after work, maybe we’ll pour a glass of wine – or, er.. a cup of tea - and go through things. I don’t want you to stress!” Lori moved around to the other side of the till, making her exit before any more customers appeared. She reached over and squeezed Tammy’s arm, giving her an apologetic smile.

“Alright,” Tammy mumbled, not looking up.

“Oh, and before I go – four french fancies please!”

Tammy finally met Lori’s eyes, and relented. She packed four dainty squares, held up the box and gave a coy smile. “For madame!”

8

After various issues were put to bed in New York, Lori tried calling Michael, but after several missed attempts, she sent him a text, hoping that he was OK. His last message had seemed cryptic, especially after their chaste kiss at the airport had left her feeling somewhat empty. She was fairly sure she was being punished for not telling him the truth about her past. She knew it was wrong to be dishonest with him, but they had rarely talked about their childhoods; Michael was just as much at fault. Whenever she had asked him what his life was like as a boy, he had never divulged too much, making Lori feel bad for even asking. Besides, her early life in Scotland was intrinsically linked to the bittersweet sadness of her parents, that she avoided discussing it with anyone. She shrugged off her uneasy feelings and popped her phone back into her pocket. The late afternoon sun was dropping, but still shining brightly enough to illuminate the distant hills, enticing Lori to chase the light. She headed in the direction of their local church for a walk. The old stone building lay further out of the village, in a glen surrounded by hills and trees. It was even more picturesque than she remembered. There was something ancient and romantic about the setting that took Lori’s breath away. She believed that if she were to travel forward or back into another time - the church, and its lichen-strewn stonework would still look exactly the same. She stepped up to the moss-covered iron gates and pushed them apart with a creak. Inside the grounds stood the old graveyard. Lori’s shoulders tensed and she paused. She had been here many times before, nothing had changed. But something twisted inside her, like a knotted rope. Lori slowly walked up to her parents' headstone: one single stone for them both; even in death they were together. Above the grave stood a large Evergreen, its protective branches sheltering her parents from the wild west coast weather. It was such a tranquil spot, and Lori took a few moments to dwell on the little she could remember of them. Where were they now? Sat on a fluffy cloud above, or standing near her always? She hoped they watched over her and her sisters in some way at least. Would they be proud of her? Lori remembered the day of the funeral, holding hands with her sisters and watching people place tight bunches of cold white flowers at the graveside. It had felt unreal, as though she were in a dream, just waiting to wake up. The whole village and the town over had come to pay their respects. Lori had never seen the church packed full of people before, every seat taken leaving some standing in the side aisles, their heads bowed and hands clasped. Her parents had touched so many people’s lives. Her dad always smiling and good-humoured, a gentle man to the core. And her mother: warm, intelligent and graceful but with a mischievous sense of adventure. They both had been there for many of the townsfolk in their respective times of need. Lori felt a tear roll down her cheek, and she wiped it away. She hadn’t expected to be confronted with vivid memories of the past that she rarely thought of in New York. Lost in her thoughts, a crack of a branch and the bang of a door startled her. She wiped away another tear and quickly spun around to catch a glimpse of the new arrival, but could see no one. The graveyard was empty, apart from the odd bird that fluttered in and out of the trees nearby. Perhaps it was Father Angus going into the church to run through his sermon? Lori hesitated, should she go inside and say hello? It would be rude not to, surely? She knew the friendly priest would happily detain her for hours if he could. In the end she decided otherwise; she knew her gran would surely drag her to mass on Sunday, as usual, so she could speak to the priest then. Lori placed her hand gently on the headstone, then slowly moved away, following the narrow path that continued under canopy and skirted up hill. The familiar track played into her memories - as a girl she would often run up towards the summit, to the old school house, which herself and her sisters had attended. The more she climbed, the more the timid young girl she had once been came into the light, taking the same steps she had trodden all those years ago. The rough path got higher and higher, and alarmingly steeper; something she hadn’t remembered. Or had it always been this dangerous, and she had simply never paid attention?

Finally, reaching the top past the clearing of trees, Lori gasped for breath - the daily walks in New York not having prepared her for the Scottish hills. She bent over panting, allowing the sun to warm her back. After some moments spent composing herself, she took in the Victorian school building, with its newer extension at the front expanding onto a new playground. It looked closed-up for the day, no doubt the children all away home for their teas leaving only faint chalk marks on the black tarmac. Lori continued walking around the grounds, the heat from the sun warming her body gloriously after the cool cover of trees. She thought back on her time at school, and of endless summer nights, playing anywhere and everywhere with her sisters. She had enjoyed such freedom, a definite rarity for kids these days. Having spoken to some mothers who worked at Costners, she could see the difference in modern children. Their detailed accounts of picking up their children from school and taking them to various extra curriculum classes, just so they could say with certainty that they knew where their offspring were. Some had even told her that they’d never allow their kids to go to a ‘sleep-over’, for fear of some adverse happening or other. Lori knew the world could be a bad place, but the childhood she had had, though tainted by sorrow, was still a good one. She had been free, but safe along with it. Lori grinned thinking of her gran, who would often leave them playing in the woods, and would happily not see them until the end of the day. And when Lori and her sisters would come home later that evening, hair messy or with mucky legs from playing in the dirt, her gran would raise an eyebrow: “Did you enjoy the cycle to the beach?” or “I hope you were careful playing on Farmer MacAulay’s hay stacks?” Lori chuckled to herself, she had never been fully alone, her cunning guardian must have had spies everywhere!

Lori continued further on past the school and out towards the end of a long field which stood high above the sea below. Her sandals struggled a little through the high grass as she glided through the ferns enjoying the view of the horizon beyond. In the quiet sea breeze, her thoughts settled on Michael, and her current life. She felt uneasy about concealing things from him for those few years. But she hadn’t really been lying, had she? Lori bit her lip and continued walking through the high rushes. As soon as she got back to New York they would really start making the most of the weekends; have breakfast together, go hiking and just relish time alone. All Lori needed to do now was to get this wedding business sorted and she could go back to Michael, and back to their life. Lori breathed out as she reached the end of the field and near the edge of the cliff. The sea surrounded her with small isles dotted far out in the distance. She cast her eye back to where she had walked from, down below where Arlochy lay neatly, every road and larger building familiar to her. The church was hidden under the canopy of bushy trees, but the graveyard was in view, its path leading all the way along to the main street, where tiny blotches of people moved around unaware of their spectator on a faraway hill. Around the harbour, a few yachts and fishing boats were scattered, looking so perfect bathed in the early evening sun that Lori reached for her phone to take a photograph. Just as her hand clasped the device, it started to buzz, giving her a jolt of panic and joy at the same time: it was Michael, finally. Lori wasted no time in answering.

“Lori?” His voice was quiet.

“Yes? Is everything OK?”

“I just wanted-” His voice cut out.

Lori panicked, the signal was very weak, she scrambled, thrusting the phone high in the air and squinting at its screen. “What is wrong with these rural places... we need phone signal!” she roared out on the empty hill, pleading over the phone: “Michael, can you hear me?” She raised the device as high as she could, and walked backward in a distracted frenzy until she lost her footing, making her shriek as the phone flew up in the air. She stumbled, gasping, falling to her knees at a strange angle frighteningly close to the edge of the cliff. She peered out over the long grass, her heart beating like a galloping horse. Down below the sea moaned and roared, repeatedly drenching the rocks with the cold Atlantic. She could have fallen down the cliff! What a right idiot she would’ve looked; trying to get phone signal and falling to her death? She shivered at the prospect, and shuffled back on hands and feet to a safer distance, where her heart gradually regained its natural speed. After a few deep breaths, she heard a muffled voice calling her name in the distance.