Chapter Fourteen #2
‘So, they were still together when he moved to London,’ I said, pulling the conversation back on track. ‘She stayed here? They did the long distance thing?’
Graham nodded.
‘He travelled around a bit for a couple of years but she didn’t want to leave home. When he settled in London, she went with him but Shiv was never going to last long in in a city that size. She thought it was a temporary relocation and they’d make their way back up here eventually.’
There was no disputing the fact Braewick was a long way from London, both figuratively and literally.
I’d been counting the days until I could leave home, and I still found London overwhelming when I first arrived.
I couldn’t imagine suffering alone in a city you didn’t love for someone else’s sake.
‘And they broke up because she gave him an ultimatum about getting married,’ I said. ‘Last Christmas?’
‘Aye, I’d say that’s accurate enough.’
His eyes broke from mine, darting around the little back yard behind the pub.
‘But?’ I said, rubbing my hands up and down my quickly cooling arms.
‘But what?’ he replied as his solid stance shifted into something less steady. ‘There’s no but. That’s what he told you, that’s the truth.’
As a doctor, you had to develop a certain sixth sense for when people weren’t telling you the whole story.
Have you been taking your medication? Have you had any other symptoms?
Would you like to revisit the number of units of alcohol listed here?
One third of my patients gave me the straight facts, one third underplayed things, the remaining third were total hypochondriacs.
A finely tuned radar for bullshit was as essential as a stethoscope, a Starbucks loyalty card and a sense of humour, and in that moment it was pinging off the charts.
‘Look, Graham, Callum’s your friend.’ I held out my hands, my sweet, innocent little hands to show I meant no harm. ‘You want him to be happy, I want him to be happy. We both want the same thing, right?’
Tilting my head to one side, I waited patiently, watching as he pulled the lighter back out from his apron, flicking the wheel, sparks of gold at his fingertips.
‘As his friend, if there’s anything at all you think I should know, I won’t tell him it came from you,’ I added. ‘Whatever it might be, goes with me to the grave.’
Which would be in about four minutes if I didn’t get back inside soon.
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ he said but the strain in his voice suggested otherwise. ‘I was surprised he moved on so quickly, that’s all, given how long they were together. If I had to say anything. If there was something to be said. That would be it.’
Only Callum hadn’t moved on. He was still single. So single he’d felt he had to make up a fake girlfriend rather than go to the effort of finding a new one. Perhaps because he didn’t really want a new one …
‘Shiv is part of the family. Second daughter to Derek and Lizzie, big sister to Rory, Elsie’s best friend.’ Graham considered his last statement before adding, ‘Elsie’s only friend.’
‘No surprises there,’ I said and heard him scoff with agreeing laughter.
‘I know he’s got itchy feet now but if you want me to be brutally honest, I always thought he’d come home eventually, and when he did …’
‘You thought he’d get back together with Shiv,’ I finished for him.
Shrugging shoulders swallowed up Graham’s nod.
‘We all did.’
They weren’t the only ones. A slight prickle stung the backs of my eyes which really made no sense at all. I was not Caroline. Callum was not my boyfriend. This did not affect me.
‘Could be I’m wrong, it’s clear he’s mad about you,’ Graham declared loudly.
‘But if there’s a less than warm welcome at Balmaclay, don’t take it personally.
I miss the wee bawbag as much as anyone, but Lizzie and Derek, they’re getting older, they want their boy home.
Anything that keeps him away is the enemy.
Haven’t seen them in the bakery for months, I think they’re even holding a grudge against puddings. ’
‘And Shiv?’
The best he could manage was a rueful smile.
‘I’ll level with you, Caroline. It’s hard to imagine Cal staying away from Braewick forever, but who knows how long she’s prepared to wait?’
I sniffed in a lungful of air so cold it burned the inside of my nose and tore at my throat. At least I’d lost all feeling in my sore feet. Thank heaven for small mercies.
‘Especially if he stays in Paris,’ I said.
‘Why would he stay in Paris?’
‘Lots of people do,’ I reasoned, picturing Callum swanning around the Champs-élysées, baguette in hand. ‘After they take the pastry course and do the internship, quite a few people end up getting a job and staying in France.’
At least according to the three a.m. Google search I’d done on the train.
Graham looked at me, confused, and suddenly the thought of freezing to death didn’t seem so bad after all.
‘Sorry, hen, you’ve lost me.’
‘Paris,’ I repeated. ‘He’s going to Paris to study at some fancy culinary institute?’
The shock on his face morphed into immeasurable pride.
‘He got in?’
I gave the tiniest inclination of a nod.
‘That sneaky wee bastard!’ He whooped with joy while I winced at both the gust of wind that almost blew me off my feet and my own inability to keep my mouth shut. Callum hadn’t told him. ‘No, he hasn’t told me. And I’d wager his parents don’t know yet either, or his shrew of a sister.’
‘Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything,’ I replied, looking back over my shoulder at the door to the pub. ‘He probably wanted to tell you in person, please don’t let on I ruined the surprise.’
With a huge grin, he rubbed the closely cropped hair on the top of his head with the palm of one hand.
‘I can haul me wheesht if you can haul yours. Shall we get you back inside before you freeze your tits off? Your lips turned blue about three minutes ago and I think there’s an icicle hanging off your left ear.’
It was the invitation I’d been waiting for.
Graham sauntered casually behind while I practically ran back inside, pressing as much of my frozen body as possible against the ancient radiator clunking away in the corridor, my teeth chattering so hard I was worried I’d break my jaw.
The door to the kitchen swung open in front of us, the smell of fish and chips restoring my sense of smell and will to live.
‘Since we’re sharing secrets, do you think you could do me one more favour?’ I asked, salivating at the sight of so much fried food.
‘Anything as long as it requires nae effort on my part.’
‘I can’t eat my steak in front of Elsie. Do you have a box or something so I can take it away?’
‘I know she’s a wretched thing but she’s nae so hackit you cannae eat in front of her,’ Graham replied, looking deeply offended. ‘That was the best steak I had and you want to let it go cold?’
‘It’s a very long story,’ I said, just about ready to drop to my knees and beg. ‘Please Graham, I need that steak more than I need to live, but for reasons best left unsaid, I can’t eat it until I get home.’
‘Bloody southerners,’ he muttered, grumpy but amenable. ‘Fine. I’ll come and get your plates and make you a doggy bag. Just when I was starting to like you, as well.’
With an exasperated sigh, he hurled himself at the swinging kitchen door, disappearing back into the steam and smoke and pots and pans, yelling back and forth with a woman in a blue and white striped apron, his accent so strong, I could no longer understand a word that came out of his mouth.
Not that it mattered, he’d already said more than enough.