Chapter Thirty Wild Wood
Michael has to go and catch his flight, so I should let go of him but I really don’t want to.
‘You’ll be away for ages,’ I say grumpily.
‘It’ll fly past and besides, you’ll be on your own adventure.’
‘Don’t you go having your head turned by all those island beauties.’
‘Don’t you go falling for those rugged Scotsmen and their cabers.’ He kisses me and I promise not to. ‘Besides which, you want this place perfect for Patty’s wedding, don’t you? I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it spectacular and when your customers see that wedding, they’ll book up in no time. And I’ll see you when you come out.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I tell him. ‘But yes, I know you’ll make it perfect. We’re all lucky to have you.’
We hold hands like a couple of teenagers until we reach the departure gates and then I stand and watch as he disappears into the labyrinth that is airport security. I pay the extortionate airport parking fee and drive home to wait for Patty. Both Michael and I packed last night, laughing at the differences in our suitcases — his full of shorts and beach pumps, mine, woolly jumpers and walking boots. It might still officially be late summer but I’m taking no chances with the Scottish weather.
Patty is hiring a car so we can share the driving. She will only drive automatics, therefore that rules my old faithful out of the running. I’m rechecking that I haven’t left any plugs in (thanks to my mother, I am paranoid about this), when she drives up and toots the horn. My eyes pop.
I grab my case and head out onto the street. ‘You don’t do things by halves, do you,’ I say of the bright red convertible she’s chosen for our journey. ‘You know it’ll probably rain in Scotland.’
‘Stop being a killjoy. Anyway, it does have a roof. I just thought we should do this in style.’
‘And you’re absolutely right,’ I say, ‘we’ve been through the mill this year.’
I put my case into the tiny boot and hop in alongside her. This car could make any trip an adventure and I’m ready for one.
‘Do we have everything?’ asks Patty.
I put my sunglasses on and turn to her. ‘You know what Thelma would say.’
‘Sometimes all you need is a great friend and a tank of gas,’ we both drawl in our worst American accents.
‘Now let’s go test this treasure trail,’ I yell as Patty skids out of the drive.
We have five hours of travelling ahead of us, so the back seat of the car as usual looks like a sweet shop. I’m the confectionery waitress with the heavy responsibility of ensuring Patty’s sugar levels don’t drop — as if that could ever happen.
‘Wine gum please,’ she calls, ‘preferably an orange or green one.’
I dig through the packet to find her choice and feed both to her.
‘Extra strong mint,’ she calls next.
‘You do realize we’ve only been travelling for forty minutes,’ I tell her.
‘I know — but they’re calling me.’
I get what she means. I’m trying to ignore the tempting siren cries of the Starbursts. If I open the packet they’ll be gone before we reach Cumbria.
The M6 isn’t the most interesting of roads but we make steady progress and before long we’ve left England behind us and the Scottish scenery opens out. I’m driving now and it’s an absolute joy, as the roads are quieter and sweep through the heather-topped hills. Patty starts shuffling through her MP3 player.
‘Be ready to put your foot down. I’ve loaded some Scottish music for us.’
I’m sort of expecting something about the bonny banks of Loch Lomond but don’t really see this as driving music. Nonetheless, I speed up sending our hair flying across our faces. The music starts and I smile at her choice. I turn it up to full volume and we both join in with Lulu belting out the opening bars of ‘Shout’. Boy that song should be handed out on prescription — it could make anyone feel better.
On Patty’s Scottish medley, Lulu is followed by the Proclaimers who are followed by the Bay City Rollers.
‘Aah,’ I reminisce, hearing ‘Bye Bye Baby’ filling the air, ‘which one was your favourite?’
‘Les,’ declares Patty without hesitation.
‘It was Eric for me, he had sticky-up hair like one of my gonks.’
‘Get you, picking the bad boy at such a young age.’ Patty laughs.
After one more change over and another hour we reach the ferry at Ardrossan.
‘I think I seriously underestimated how beautiful this trip would be,’ I say as we look out over the water glistening in the fading sun.
‘Or how clean the air would taste,’ adds Patty inhaling deeply. ‘It’s like breathing pure freedom. I think the Americans are going to love this.’
‘Oh damn,’ shouts a voice from somewhere behind the car.
We turn to see a man struggling with his motorbike panniers.
‘Can we help?’ I ask.
‘I think it’s broken but you’re welcome to see if the female touch works better,’ he says.
We take a look and attempt to close the catch but it is indeed broken.
‘It’s going to be a bloody nuisance carrying this on the bike.’ He sighs.
‘Where are you going? Maybe we could take it in the car and drop it off,’ I offer.
‘Are you sure? It might have drugs or machine guns in it for all you know.’
‘And we might be drug and machine gun thieves for all you know.’
‘Nah, you don’t look the type.’
I hold out my hand and we shake. ‘I’m Angie and this is Patty. We’re heading for the hotel near Seal Shore if that’s any good to you.’
‘I’m Rab and this must be destiny,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘That’s where I’m off to. I suppose you’re going to the music festival.’
‘What festival?’ Patty’s ears prick up.
‘Och, it’s great fun. Bands, singing, real ale — what more could anyone want? But if you hadn’t heard of it you must be up to something else — just touring?’
‘Far from it — we’re hunting treasure,’ I whisper conspiratorially.
Rab taps the side of his nose. ‘Say no more. Although I’d have put you down for undercover bounty hunters if I were guessing.’
‘He doesn’t mean the chocolate bar,’ I tell Patty and get a backhand slap for it.
The car queue to get on the ferry has started moving, so we take Rab’s pannier and load it into the car, promising to meet him at the hotel.
It’s a short journey, so we stay up on the deck watching the island get closer and closer. Landing at Brodick has us buzzing — maybe you just have to cross the water to feel as if you’re having an adventure. I imagine the first guests discovering that they’re leaving the mainland and being quite excited to discover where things are going to end. As the ferry leaves, they’ll be wondering when and how they have to leave the island to reach the next destination. I know all the details and I’m excited. I think this is going to work. Before we leave the port, I take a photo of Patty in the beautiful red car with the Firth of Clyde and mountains against the setting sun in the background. This isn’t for publicity though. It’s to sit alongside all those other pictures of our adventures together.
As it’s now early evening, the temperature has dropped, so we put on our headscarves and drive slowly around the island until we reach our hotel on the edge of the shore. Darkness has fallen and we can no longer see the sea, but we hear it lapping gently on the rocky beach as a breeze flicks through the flames of the torchlights bordering the hotel garden. We check in then order a glass of wine, which we bring back outside. The absolute blackness of the evening accentuates the peace as more stars than I’ve ever seen before start to appear, twinkling away.
‘Have you made a wish?’ asks Patty.
‘For Mercury to get back on track and everything to end well,’ I tell her. ‘What about you?’
‘To have the perfect wedding then never be alone again.’
I squeeze her hand and suggest we go inside to eat. Adrenaline and jelly babies have kept me going so far, but I suspect a comforting meal will have the opposite effect and I’m so looking forward to getting a full night’s sleep.
We meet Rab in reception where he’s teamed up with some of his friends. They invite us to join them but we decline, saying we’ve an early start.
‘I hope you get your treasure,’ calls Rab as we head into the restaurant.
I eschew the healthy local salmon in favour of haggis, neeps and tatties with a whisky sauce — well it seems the right thing to do.
Laden with food we trudge up to our room and slide into our little twin beds. I turn out my bedside light and say goodnight to Patty. She says nothing and when I look over she’s flat out, eyes closed and mouth wide open. That’s exactly how I want to be and as I snuggle into my soft pillow I know it won’t take long.
* * *
When I wake up to sun peeping through the curtains, I realize that I’ve slept more soundly than I have in weeks and I feel completely rested. I get dressed for the hike we have ahead of us and then I gently shake Patty, telling her I’ll just be downstairs. I walk out to the shoreline, tentatively stepping from rock to rock and peering in all the pools in between. Balancing on one, I look out to sea and notice one of the rocks moving. I wonder what it is and putting my hands above my eyes to shield them from the glare of the morning sunlight, I step out to a more precarious rock to get a better look. The rock appears again but it’s not a rock, it’s a seal. How wonderful, I’ve seen a seal! It’s probably not uncommon here but feels like a good omen. I wobble back over the seaweed and barnacles then head back in for breakfast.
‘I didn’t fall in the water and I saw a seal,’ I tell Patty as I sit down. ‘Today will be a good day.’
‘And this funny square sausage is delicious so I absolutely agree,’ she says, waving a slice at me.
The hotel packs us some sandwiches for our trek and so with more food than an Everest expedition would most likely consume, we set off for the woodland. It’s a fairly straightforward path to begin with and we meet lots of friendly people walking their dogs.
‘I feel a bit overdressed in all this gear with the hiking poles,’ says Patty and I nod in agreement. So far this walk doesn’t feel much of a treasure trail and I hope Dad hasn’t got it wrong.
After a couple of miles, the path becomes very narrow and enters the woods proper. The dark pines tower over us, blocking out the light and making the forest rather eerie. I stop to take a drink of water then freeze as I hear a rustle and something snapping. Patty hears it too and holds out her hand to tell me to stand still. It happens again and it’s getting closer. Patty quietly moves to stand behind me — typical.
Then suddenly the rustling sound is in front of us, the lower branches of the tree start shaking and as we shriek and cower, out runs a terrified little fawn. We jump nonetheless and Patty instinctively pushes me towards it.
‘Thanks a lot,’ I tell her when the ‘threat’ is over. ‘I know where I’d stand if we were ever in real danger — thrust to the front.’
With that deer and the seal this morning, I’m beginning to feel like a Scottish Doctor Dolittle.
We continue through the wood until it opens up dramatically to reveal a huge gorge and waterfall.
‘Wow,’ says Patty, ‘this is stunning.’
The ravine must be hundreds of feet deep with a single plume of water gushing through it. A rainbow shines through and the effect is just magical. We could stand here for ever just captivated by it but we need to get moving. Away from the ravine we go back into the woods and then cross a river. This is starting to feel more like the adventure we thought we’d be having. You can only get here on foot so the Americans wouldn’t be seeing all this if they’d just taken a standard package trip. I feel a surge of pride that Mercury might just be back on track. There is sunlight breaking through to the rocks on the opposite side of the river, so Patty suggests we have a break. Gladly I take off my rucksack and lie back using it as a pillow. Patty gets out the thermos and pours us a tea, then unpacks the picnic. She laughs and I turn my head to see her holding up a Farm Kitchen fruitcake provided by the hotel.
‘I can’t escape these things can I?’
‘I hear they’re very moist though.’
‘Don’t know who told you that.’
After topping up our energy levels we start moving again, and reach a small loch. I check my map and the instructions from Dad.
‘We can’t be that far away now,’ I tell rosy-cheeked Patty.
I don’t know what I’m expecting to do when I get there. A treasure trail should have some reward when you hit the spot. I guess we’ll see what the place is like first.
The map shows the library in a clearing just beyond the woodland boundary. Through the trees I can see that the grass changes from the dark of the forest to the golden of moorland in a few hundred yards ― we’re moments away from our target.
I have no idea why but I start walking more stealthily like a hunter on the trail of his quarry. Patty notices and does the same. We’re a two-trees-width away from the clearing and we bob slowly from one tree to the other, stopping to check we’re not being watched. What am I expecting? To actually see the seven dwarves? It’s that kind of place, honestly it is. Happy that we haven’t been spotted by any pint-sized characters on their way to work, we move out into the clearing and there it stands — the library in the woods.
If the dwarves were real, they’d live here. I can’t help smiling at the glory of this beautiful little place. The wooden shack with its grass roof looks just like a prop from a Disney film and it’s simply magical, even more so because it’s a library. We approach the back of the building and then skirt either side of it, ducking underneath the two little windows at the front. I bob up to take a peak: it’s empty. We head inside.
Shelves of books cover two sides of the room. All the classics are here: Moby Dick, Treasure Island, Swallows and Amazons and so many others that just transport you back to your childhood. The air is calm and filled with the smell of pine and paper. In the centre of the room there’s a desk and some chairs. How wonderful it would be to camp here overnight, reading by candlelight with the woodland creaking and coming to life outside. On the walls are pictures drawn by the children who have visited here, while the adults have left their thoughts in the visitor’s book. I read through some of the comments — people from all around the world expressing their wonder and enchantment with the place. We’ve come to put a book on the shelves, the book that contains the clue to where our customers go next. I wasn’t sure whether guests would be able to find it but now I know it’ll stick out like Patty in a nunnery.
I’ve brought a Haynes manual for building and repairing NASA’s Mercury spacecraft. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to take it away and I think the guests will spot it straight away. The clue is written on the inside back cover. I wedge the book into the bottom shelf between Jane Eyre and Robinson Crusoe. At least it’s in good company. I want to do more.
‘We have to think of something that marks our guests finding this place,’ I tell Patty.
‘Could they maybe sign the copy of Treasure Island? They can’t really take anything as a souvenir, can they?’
‘No it would be wrong to take from this place. Maybe they should leave something.’
‘They leave a gold coin and make a wish,’ says Patty, pointing to the donations box.
‘That sounds absolutely perfect.’ And we both do just that.
Reluctantly we leave this wonderful place and start the long trek back.