Chapter Thirteen #2
I wanted to argue but as the feeling came back into my defrosted feet, they began to throb in the very specific way only women who had stubbornly tried to walk in ill-fitting shoes could ever understand.
I would say whatever anyone wanted as long as it meant I didn’t have to walk anywhere again for the foreseeable.
‘So.’ I rested back in my chair, gloves off but still bundled up in my hat, coat and scarf. Callum peeled off his thin woollen coat, nothing but a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans underneath. ‘This is your local?’
‘Used to be,’ he nodded, smacking his lips after taking a sip of the whisky, holding his glass up to the light like Indiana Jones beholding a rare artefact. ‘The Clach is about the only place you can get to without a car from Balmaclay and I was never allowed to borrow the car.’
‘Because your parents were worried about drunk driving?’
‘Because the day after I passed my driving test, I borrowed it to go to the cinema and instead drove all the way down to Glastonbury festival, lost my phone, and they didn’t know where I was for five days.’
‘I wouldn’t lend you the car either,’ I replied, wondering what my dad would’ve done in that situation.
He mostly took the bus to work so there was a good chance he wouldn’t notice I was gone as long as the car was back before he needed it to drive to football on Sundays. ‘You were a terror as a kid, then?’
‘Terror isn’t the word for it. Couldn’t wait to get away, could you, fannybaws?’
A man around our age slapped Callum around the back of the head with a well-used tea towel, a blue apron tied around his waist over a white T-shirt and black shorts, and a huge, friendly grin on his face.
‘That means cool genius, by the way,’ Callum replied before standing to clap his arms around the other man in an aggressive hug.
I stared at him in awe. Bare legs? In this weather?
He had to be the toughest human being on the planet.
That or he should be studied for science.
Whipping away the tea towel, Callum used it to snap the backs of his legs, earning a litany of curses.
Or at least I assumed they were curses, I only understood about three words out of every ten.
‘Laura, you might as well meet Graham since it’s too late to pretend I don’t know him,’ Callum said eventually.
‘Caroline,’ I corrected quickly as I rose from my chair to shake his hand. ‘I don’t know who this Laura is.’
Graham laughed, ignoring my hand and pulling me in for a hug.
‘Och, Cal, you’ve done it now, rolling in that much fud down south you can’t keep their names straight?’
‘Aye, that’s right,’ Callum replied, throwing me an appreciative glance for the save. ‘I’d like to keep it to one wifey, London’s too far for your ma to travel.’
Graham beamed at me, legs splayed in a confident stance, hands planted at his waist. ‘As much as I’d love to listen to your mannie blether on all night, we’re too busy for his shite right now. Are you wanting to eat?’
‘Yes,’ I replied before Callum could even open his mouth. ‘Yes, please.’
I read the menu over again and my stomach howled. Remembering my fake name was easy, remaining vegan outside Balmaclay was another thing altogether.
‘Does the steak come with chips?’ I asked, pressing my hands against my belly.
‘No, love, it comes with hamshank sauce and a hand shandy.’
‘Yes, it comes with chips,’ Callum said, arm flicking out lightning fast to slap his friend in a sensitive area with the back of his hand. ‘I’ll have the same, thank you, Gray.’
‘Hope I don’t forget which one’s been marinating in the cludgie. Welcome home, you wee shite.’
And with that, he gave me a wink, punched Callum in the arm and took his leave.
‘He seems nice,’ I said as Graham staggered away, openly rubbing at his crotch as he went. Callum, still adjusting his too long limbs to the too small chair, smiled and nodded.
‘Gray? He’s harmless. We grew up together.’
‘Funny that you both ended up as cooks.’
My question only earned a dismissive shrug.
‘Only one of us by choice,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think he’ll be able to mess up steak and chips but it’s not exactly Gray’s calling.
His dad, James, owns the pub. He’s been working here since he was old enough to pick up empty glasses.
He used to be the barman but he kept giving away free drinks to all the girls. ’
I cast an eye around the room. Old men as far as the eye could see.
‘Can’t imagine that made much of a dent in the profits.’
‘He didn’t mind sampling the wares himself while he was at it,’ Callum admitted with a laugh.
‘And it would be fair to say I didn’t put my hand in my pocket for a few years.
Probably owe James half my life savings.
Gray is safer in the kitchen than he is with his dad’s collection of rare single malts. ’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong but I think I’m picking up on a theme,’ I said as I sipped my boozy coffee, the good kind of burn scorching down my throat and into my stomach. ‘Mal, Graham, your dad. Lots of men around here following in their fathers’ footsteps.’
He was still smiling as he brought his drink to his lips but the light was gone from his eyes. ‘Yeah, well, there aren’t that many jobs around here. If there’s a family business to fall into, most are grateful to get on with it.’
‘But not you.’
It was a question, a statement and a show of admiration all in one, but I couldn’t be sure how Callum interpreted my words. He sniffed, rubbed the back of his hand against his chin then waved my words away.
‘I wanted to say sorry about Elsie earlier.’ He pushed up the long sleeves of his shirt and the muscles on his forearms contracted when he leaned them on the wooden table.
‘I didn’t think she’d be around until later or I’d have given you more warning.
Don’t take anything she says personally, it’s not about you. It’s me she’s upset with.’
‘Any particular reason why?’ I asked, finally feeling brave enough to remove my bobble hat and open my coat. I wasn’t quite ready to take it off but I could at least unfasten the toggles. ‘I don’t have any brothers or sisters but that felt a bit more intense than your average sibling rivalry.’
The question sat for a moment and I could tell Callum was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to answer it, pushing his glass around in circles like he was making patterns on a spirograph.
‘You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,’ I added. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘You’re here, you’ve borne the brunt of Elsie’s temper, it’s your business,’ he replied. ‘I’m just trying to work out how to tell the story in a way that won’t make you hate me.’
I scrunched up my face, scoffing at the unlikely outcome. ‘What did you do? Set fire to her Barbie dolls?’
The bittersweet smile on his face didn’t budge.
‘Dad wanted me to take over the farm,’ he began, forcing out his words as though he resented each and every one.
‘Like his father before him and his father before him and so on and so forth, all the way back as far as anyone can remember. And according to my dad, every McClay son has taken on this sacred duty with a willing heart, all of them born to it, farming in their blood. Well, something went wrong when he had me because I never wanted to stay on the farm. Not that there’s anything wrong with the place, it’s beautiful, you can see that. ’
I nodded in agreement. He wasn’t wrong.
‘Every minute I wasn’t at school, if I wasn’t doing my homework, Dad would drag me into the fields or the sheds, trying to bring out some latent love for the farm, but it was never there.’
‘Because you loved cooking?’ I nudged for him to continue as he took a drink.
‘Because I always wanted to get out and see what else was happening in the world. Cooking is something I fell into, you can pick up kitchen work anywhere in the world, but I came to love it. If I’d stayed here, I might never have known that about myself.’
‘And how does that bring us back to Elsie?’
Callum wiped a hand over his face and groaned.
‘It broke my dad’s heart when I left to go travelling. Because I let everyone down, Elsie took my place. Followed Dad around everywhere, learned how to do everything. Tried to be everything he wanted me to be.’
‘So you left and Elsie had to give up her dreams to take your place,’ I surmised. ‘I can see how that would rub her up the wrong way but I don’t think you should blame yourself. She chose to take on the job the same way you chose not to.’
‘That’s the stupid thing,’ Callum shook his head, confused. ‘She didn’t give up anything, she loves it. Else is better at running the estate than I ever would’ve been and she’s already made it more profitable than it was the whole time Dad was in charge. But she’s still so angry with me.’
‘I wish I could offer up a theory but I’ve got nothing,’ I admitted, feet still throbbing in my boots. ‘Have you tried talking to her about it?’
‘We can’t even have a civil conversation without her biting my head off.’ He gave me a sad smile and I felt a flutter in my stomach. ‘I thought my dad might be angry at me for walking away from the farm. I didn’t know it would cost me my sister.’
I closed my eyes and sighed. Most neuroscientists were in agreement that we only understood about ten percent of the brain’s full capabilities, but even with that in mind, brains still made more sense to me than most people.
Imagine having this incredible computer inside your head, billions of neurons all firing at once, giving you the ability to walk and talk and think and feel, and you chose to use all those unimaginable complexities to be mad at your brother for no reason.
When I opened my eyes again, Callum was staring into the fire, a melancholy look on his face. I noticed a tiny freckle under his left eye, a tiny golden fleck, and when he looked back at me and smiled, it disappeared into the crease between his eyelid and his cheek.
‘Your dad must be so proud of you,’ he said. ‘A neurosurgeon? It’s incredible.’
And now it was my turn to get uncomfortable. A fair exchange of vulnerability.
‘I suppose,’ I replied, shuffling in my seat. ‘We never really talk about it.’
‘Your job or whether or not he’s proud of you?’
‘Either,’ I answered. ‘Both.’
Someone opened the front door behind us and I wrapped my coat around myself at the sudden sharp chill.
‘It was hard for him, after we lost Mum,’ I went on, even though I wasn’t sure why.
I didn’t talk to anyone about my dad, not even Desi.
‘Thirty-six and stuck at home with a grieving teenage girl. He didn’t really know what he was doing and we didn’t have a lot of other family nearby to help.
We muddled along until I left for university and met Desi and Joel.
They’re my family now. I see Dad when I see him. ’
‘And he’s gone away for Christmas?’
I nodded but kept my eyes focused on my coffee.
‘After Mum … it didn’t feel the same really.
We still bought presents but that was about it.
When I was sixteen, he said he was too tired to put the tree up so I climbed into the loft to get it, slipped off a beam and fell through the ceiling.
Broke my leg in three places. That more or less put an end to Christmas altogether in our house.
Now I just do whatever, hang out with Desi and Joel, work if I can.
I’d be at the hospital now but HR made me take time off because I haven’t used any holiday all year. ’
‘Christ, Laura, I’m so sorry,’ Callum said softly. ‘Here I am complaining about my petty family squabbles and …’
‘And I’m here Scrooging it up,’ I said with a quiet laugh. ‘Ignore me, honestly, I’m fine. It must be the whisky, I’m not used to it.’
He slapped the table with the flats of his hands, making our glasses do a little jump.
‘If that’s the case you know there’s only one cure for that.’
‘And what’s that, Dr McClay?’
‘More whisky.’
Picking up his glass, he tossed back what was left then eyed mine, signalling for me to do the same.
‘Good girl,’ he smiled as I screwed up my face, chasing the burn of the scotch with a mouthful of still-scorching hot coffee. ‘I’ll get another round in, doctor’s orders.’
I watched him as he wove his way through the other patrons, his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, auburn hair curling at his collar, a clear head taller than everyone else milling around the bar. He really was something.
Resting my elbows on the table, the warmth of the whisky flushed through me and I bravely took off my coat.
The alcohol made my blood vessels dilate, sending blood rushing to the surface of my skin, but I knew, soon enough, my core temperature would drop and I’d be even colder than before.
Sometimes being a doctor was no fun. At least if nothing else came of this week, perhaps I’d learn to hold my scotch.
Just as long as I could hold my own against Elsie, keep Lizzie and Derek at a distance, survive Fiona’s cooking and not offend Mal.
‘Last week you cauterised a man’s brain while he was wide awake,’ I muttered to myself. ‘How was that easier?’
The front door opened again and I shivered, the sound of female laughter ringing out across the old man pub loudly enough to make me turn in my seat in search of sisterly solidarity. Instead, I found two women staring at me as though I was holding up a sign that said ‘I eat puppies, ask me how’.
‘Ah, bollocks,’ I muttered when I realised I recognised them both.
Elsie’s happy smile slipped into the same sneer I’d seen at lunch but the pretty blonde at her side was already looking away, too busy staring daggers across the bar to worry much about me.
But in her defence, if I’d been all but engaged to Callum McClay and lost him to a life of Parisian pastries, I might’ve looked just as angry as Siobhan Hamilton.