Chapter 19
19
I t was the next day. Cally and Logan had spent the whole day out in the countryside and had clocked up many thousands of steps. They’d discussed everything and anything including moving in together properly with Logan being keen and Cally talking about buying a flat and the ins and outs of doing that. As they’d stomped along in nature taking in the beauty of the estate, they’d put the world to rights.
After the long outdoors day, Cally had fancied nothing other than tucking up on the sofa in the cottage under one of the tartan blankets, popping a film on Netflix, sloshing a measure or three of gin into hot blackcurrant, and dozing her way to bedtime. Unfortunately, Logan and Alastair had other ideas, and a plan was in place for the family to stroll down to the town pub for dinner and a few drinks. At least it was casual, and Cally didn’t have to dress up. After being outside all day, including a long walk through the forest, faffing around with fancy clothes, and getting ready was the last thing she wanted to do. On coming in from the walk, she had peeled off her jumper and welly boots and headed straight up to run a long, deep bath. About an hour later, she’d emerged, pulled on jeans and one of her ruffle top shirts, popped Logan’s cashmere jumper over the top, and, as they’d headed out the door, she’d shrugged on her Lovely coat. Putting her hands in her pockets, she nodded; she was happiest in easy clothes and not being dressed up to the nines. She couldn’t be doing with that every day of the week.
They stopped at the main house to meet everyone and then set off in the direction of the town. Cally walked along next to Logan and alongside Cecilia and Reg and as they made their way through the woods Cally felt the steps of the day like lead in her legs. After emerging on a lane and then taking another country path over some fields, they reached the little local town. Cally peered in shop windows as they walked along the pavement and ambled along the main street.
'It's a bit nippy out for this time of year, isn't it? Once that sun goes down, you know about it.' Cecilia remarked, her breath visible in the cool air. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s that you never can tell what the weather is going to be like up here.’
'It is, but it's a fine evening for a walk to the pub,' Reg replied.
Cally nodded as they walked past the shop fronts lining the street. Little lights glowed in windows, a shop with beautiful handmade knitted jumpers and a large bay window was fogged up from the warmth inside and Scottish flags fluttered in the breeze. A chalkboard sign outside a little coffee shop advertised 'Homemade Scottish Tablet' and 'Freshly Baked Scones' and a few doors down, the deep blue sign of a Bank of Scotland branch stood out against the smaller shopfronts. Cally stopped and peered up at the building’s grey stone exterior and large arched windows.
'That building's been there since the 1800s,' Reg chimed in. 'Used to be the only bank for miles around. Still is, for some services.'
Strolling casually further along, Cally loved the quaint little town. She stopped and looked in the window of an outdoor clothing shop showcasing a plethora of things to brace for when exposed to the Scottish elements: waterproof jackets hung alongside hiking boots, rain coats and cosy-looking fleeces. A vintage timber mannequin dressed in full hiking attire, complete with a backpack and walking poles, stood sentinel in the corner of the window. Cally cupped her hands over her eyes and peered in further. Cecilia stood beside her and followed her gaze.
'MacGregor's,' Cecilia said. 'They've been kitting out hikers and hunters for decades. I think the boot room at the house is almost like a secondary shop of theirs and let me tell you, you need it if you come here when it snows.'
Next door to the outfitters, a tartan shop with a stunning window display took Cally’s breath away. The bay window and shop behind it reminded her of the coat shop in Lovely, with its old-fashioned display units, bolt upon bolt of tartan fabric, and a large cutting table dominating the centre of the room. In the far corner, a man in a white shirt and waistcoat was carefully measuring out lengths of fabric.
'That shop has been here for as long as I can remember,' Cecilia remarked. 'They can tell you the history of every tartan in the place. Fascinating, really, when you think about it.'
They passed by a traditional butcher's shop with strings of sausages hanging in the window, a small art gallery showcasing works by local painters, and a cosy-looking bookshop with stacks of novels and local history books visible through its quaint bow window.
'It's all so charming and cosy.’
Logan squeezed her hand. 'Hmm, I guess it is. I’ve never really thought about it.'
‘It reminds me of Lovely.’
‘I suppose it’s very similar, yes.’
Getting to a small green, Cally was beginning to wonder where the pub was. Her stomach very much needed to find it. Reg had other ideas as he stopped at an ancient stone war memorial and peered upwards. On its weathered surface, a way too long list of names of local soldiers lost in conflicts was listed on plaques lined up from top to bottom.
Logan shook his head. 'It’s unbelievable really. Gosh, some of these were so young. The sacrifices made by these small communities all that time ago. Terrible.'
Reg shook his head and whooshed in air through his teeth. ‘Imagine that.’ He pointed at a list of five names all with the same surname. ‘A whole family of young lads gone in one fell swoop.’
‘Awful.’
As they neared the second section of the high street, the sound of conversation and clinking glasses grew louder from The Stag and Thistle pub on the corner. Cally was more than glad to see its whitewashed walls, dark slate roof, hanging baskets bursting with flowers and a chalkboard detailing the menu nudged outside. She couldn’t wait to sit down. ‘I didn't realise how hungry I was. My legs feel like I have cement in them.’
Cecilia chuckled. 'All that fresh air and walking will do that to you.’
Cally smiled as she stepped into the old Scottish pub and nodded at what greeted her; low dark beamed ceilings, lovely old worn timber floors, walls adorned with a mix of local memorabilia and hunting trophies and the smell of wood smoke, ale, and heather in the air.
A massive stone fireplace sat right in the middle of the pub and little clusters of tables here and there were chock full of people. Conversations in thick Scottish accents swirled around her, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of glasses. Cosy, comfortable and somehow just right.
Cecilia shrugged off her cardigan as they walked across the pub. 'Ah, there they are.’ She gestured towards a large table in the corner where Alastair, Octavia, and several other Henry-Hicks clan members were already seated. Cally followed Cecilia and Logan, took her coat and bag off and as they got to the table, she sat down on a bench seat with a long leather cushion between Logan and Octavia. Octavia kissed her on the cheek and smiled.
‘What did you get up to today?’
Cally beamed. 'Walking. Loving it. It's beautiful up in the forest. Scotland is so pretty.’
'Oh, I know. Isn't it just divine?' Octavia gushed. 'Alastair and I are thinking of including it in our travel plans. A sort of farewell tour of the British Isles before we jet off to more exotic places, you know? We were thinking of getting a small plane out to the islands before we head south and then get on our way to India. Sometimes the heat is a bit much in the tropics if you know what I mean?'
Cally wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She didn’t actually know about jetting off to more exotic places. The idea of getting a small plane was completely and utterly alien to her. Octavia didn't need or want to know that. ‘Yes, sounds good to me.’
'Right then, what are you drinking, Cal?' Alastair interrupted.
‘What’s Logan having?’
‘A local ale, I think.’
‘I’ll have the same but only a half, or, umm, maybe just a gin and tonic?'
'Nonsense!' Reg interjected. 'You can't come to Scotland and not try a wee dram of whisky in the pub.’
Feeling slightly out of her depth but not wanting to seem impolite, Cally nodded. She didn’t fancy whisky in the slightest. 'Okay, I'll give it a try.'
Cally chatted away to Octavia, who mostly rattled on about herself, her life and her travels. Cally didn’t really care. She was tired, happy to be resting her legs and couldn’t wait to order some food. She nodded, smiled and made the appropriate sounds here and there as Octavia told her all about how much she was looking forward to visiting Fiji and how they’d decided to take a year off because you never knew what was around the corner.
Alright for some, Cally thought and instantly chided herself for being mean.
Just after they’d studied the menus and were still waiting for Alastair to come back from the bar, Logan’s aunt Agatha arrived. Logan got up so that she could squeeze in on the bench seat. Cally grimaced internally, not enamoured with the premise of having to listen to Agatha’s twaddle as Agatha wriggled along the bench seat and sat down right next to her.
After a bit of small talk about the weather, Agatha smiled. 'Logan tells me you're a chemist. How fascinating! I've always been interested in the history of pharmacy. Did you know that the Scots were pioneers in the field?'
Cally internally rolled her eyes. Course they were. Before she could respond, Agatha launched into a detailed history of Scottish contributions to modern medicine. Agatha’s eyes gleamed with enthusiasm as Cally’s glazed six times over. She wanted to top herself at the thought of having to listen to Agatha droning on for the whole meal.
'...and of course, there's the famous story of the discovery of chloroform as an anaesthetic. Quite by accident, you know.'
Cally loved learning new things, but tired and starving, she couldn’t have cared less. She tried and failed to look interested. 'That's quite something.’
‘Oh yes, he was the one who introduced pain relief in childbirth.’
Cally wasn’t sure whether she could stomach another long, boring conversation with Logan’s aunt. Thankfully, Alastair returned at that moment, distributing the drinks around the table. Cally wrinkled her nose as a small tumbler of amber liquid was placed in front of her. She picked it up and inhaled a strong smell. Maybe downing it in one was an excellent antidote to boring old aunts.
'There you are, Cally,' Reg raised his own glass. 'Take a small sip, just to wet your palate. Then, take a larger sip and let it roll around your tongue before swallowing. You'll get all the flavours that way.'
Cally really wasn’t that interested in the correct way to drink whisky. She just wanted to eat. The carton of blackcurrant in her bag would have done her fine. She pretended she was into the whisky and played the game. Lifting the glass tentatively, she brought it to her lips inhaled deeply before taking a tiny sip as instructed. Disgusting. Absolutely vile. The liquid burned slightly as it touched her tongue.
'Well?' Reg asked with raised eyebrows.
'It's, umm, interesting,' Cally replied diplomatically. 'I think it might take some getting used to.'
Reg chuckled. 'It's an acquired taste for some. But give it time. By the end of your stay, you might love it.'
Cally doubted that but maybe it was another thing about being in Scotland she might come to like. She took another sip, hid a wince and studied the menu as all the while Agatha rattled on.
A few hours later, Reg had consumed way too much whisky. Cally had finished hers and moved on to soft drinks. She had practically vacuumed up an Aberdeen Angus steak pie and after watching Octavia chase her chips around her plate and leave half of her pie, she’d wolfed Octavia’s down, too. As she sat with Logan’s hand on her leg feeling happy, full, and content, she felt pretty pleased with herself to be sitting happily with Logan’s family. When she’d first stepped into the Henry-Hicks world, she’d been unsure of her place, embarrassed about her past and had spent way too much time and brain power constantly second-guessing herself on repeat. Now, she slotted in with them and their funny ways as if she was part of the furniture.
Logan’s mum, Anne, chatted across the table. ‘Logan said you’re looking at property.’
Cally nodded, not sure whether or not Logan had mentioned to Anne about them living together properly. Knowing how casual Logan was about them living together officially he’d probably not even covered it with his mum. ‘Yes.’
‘How nice to be buying a house.’
Cally shook her head. ‘It will be a small flat.’
‘Oh, right, yes. You prefer a flat and not having to have all the upkeep. Right.’
That wasn’t it at all. Cally would give her right, or left, arm for a house in Lovely. Unfortunately, the bank was having none of it. ‘Mmm.’
‘So, have you found anything?’
‘I’m just in the looking stage at the moment to get a feel for the market.’
‘I see. You’ve got a lot going on. What about the promotion you were telling me about? Have you decided on whether to take that or not? Logan said you were thinking about another career? Taking another path as it were…’
Cally really couldn’t be bothered to go into the ins and outs of it with Anne. Anne was nice enough but she doubted she’d ever really worked a day in her life or had a job, let alone three. ‘Umm, not really. I just need something to, you know, pay the bills.’
‘Rather tedious, really, isn’t it?’
‘I guess so.’ Tedious and required for Cally to exist.
‘So have you had a chance to think about the offer a bit more since you’ve been up here?’
Cally nodded. In actual fact the break in Scotland had been great in giving her the clarity to see that Birdie's job was just what she wanted. Being away from Lovely had sealed what she now realised was a very special deal. ‘I have, actually. Being up here has made me see that I think I’m going to give it a whirl.’
‘Ahh, that’s good news.’
Cally smiled. She really hoped she’d made the right decision. She’d soon find out.