Chapter 18
Gayle emerged from the kitchen with a dishcloth in her hand. ‘Ah, there you are. I was about to run upstairs and check you were okay.’
Robyn stared at her knowingly. So, she was keeping an eye on her. The doctor must have had a quiet word when she found out Gayle was taking Robyn home with her.
‘Please can you give me a lift into town, Gayle, after lunch? I’m not really very hungry at the moment, to be honest, but I can wait until you’ve had something to eat.’
Robyn wanted to find out if there was a bank where she could withdraw some money from her savings account to give Gayle some rent money. But she didn’t want to tell Gayle this in case she objected, which she imagined she would. And the other reason she didn’t want to mention it was in case she had a problem withdrawing funds. What if it was one of those high-interest accounts that had some sort of extended notice period before she could access the money? Or she’d forgotten how to sign her name?
Robyn frowned at that possibility, along with another thought; she had no other means of identification – no driving licence, passport or even a bank card. That would not be helpful at all if it turned out she did have an ordinary bank account with the same bank, and all she needed was her bank card, which she’d lost along with her purse in the accident. ‘Damn!’ she said under her breath.
As she followed Gayle into a large, old-fashioned kitchen, with an Aga and oak-fronted kitchen units that looked like a throwback to the eighties, she had a feeling it might turn out to be a wasted trip.
Gayle turned around, hand on hips, and said, ‘I hope you’re not thinking of leaving. That would be shame, honey. It’s nice to have some company in this big old house.’
The house seemed to creak at every step, and the dark wooden doors and picture rails, beige swirly patterned carpet, and large-flowered print wallpaper harked back to another era. But the moment Robyn had stepped foot in the imposing detached house, which she’d barely explored yet – she wanted Gayle to give her a tour – she had loved the place.
Robyn replied, ‘Not at all. It just feels like I’ve been cooped up in that hospital for an age. I just wanted to get out and about for a bit.’ She wasn’t lying. She did feel like popping into town to have a look around. Perhaps something would jog her memory.
‘Was there anything in particular you wanted to do?’
Her diary, if she could call it that, suddenly came to mind. ‘Actually, I was wondering if there was a bookshop?’
‘Yes, there is.’
‘It’s not called Wilbur’s Bookstore, by any chance?’
Gayle exclaimed, ‘Oh, my goodness, girl! Your memory is coming back!’
Robyn rolled her eyes. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Then how did you know about the bookshop?’
‘I found a diary in my things.’
‘Oh, I bet that was interesting.’
‘Not really. Turns out I’m a bit of an artist. It’s just full of sketches. One is the bookshop.’
‘Perhaps if you go there it will jog your memory?’
Robyn raised her eyebrows. ‘Fingers crossed.’
‘Let’s hope the bookshop is open between Christmas and New Year,’ commented Gayle. ‘Sometimes places close down for the whole holiday. Which reminds me, while we’re in town, I’ll get a bottle of wine – or several – for New Year’s Eve tomorrow.’
‘I forgot it was New Year’s Eve,’ admitted Robyn. She wondered how she normally celebrated seeing in the New Year.
‘Me too. Because my father was in hospital, this holiday season seems to have passed by in a blur …’ she trailed off.
Robyn frowned. ‘You don’t have to buy some wine and feel you have to celebrate on my account. I quite understand if that’s the last thing you feel like doing. You have just lost your dad.’
Gayle shook her head. ‘Actually, I think some wine, and some company, would do me the world of good. In fact, I rather feel like a little celebration this evening, like a pre-New Year’s Eve.’
Robyn grinned. ‘Me too.’
‘Why don’t I get some popcorn too, and we can watch a movie?’
Robyn thought that sounded perfect.
‘I’ll just get my coat,’ said Gayle, undoing the apron from around her waist.
‘We don’t have to go right now. I thought you were having lunch?’
‘I’d rather pop into town first, in case the shops close early.’
Robyn wanted to go straight away too. ‘Great.’ She waited by the front door, watching Gayle nip upstairs to check on her mother before they left. A moment later, Gayle raced down the stairs. ‘Right, she’s having her afternoon nap, so she’s not having lunch either. I’ve just texted my neighbour a couple of doors down who has a key. She’s going to pop over and keep an eye on Mother while we’re out.’
Gayle stepped out on to the porch and locked the front door.
They travelled into town in silence. Robyn stared out of the car window, glimpsing a beautifully serene loch through a forest of pines, with a backdrop of the snow-covered peaks of the Cairngorm mountains. ‘I love this place,’ commented Robyn. ‘I much prefer it to the city.’
‘Which city?’ asked Gayle.
Robyn stopped and turned to Gayle. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But you must have had a memory, or part of one. You did say you much prefer it here.’
‘I did, didn’t I? Perhaps Dr Jamieson is right, and if I just relax and don’t even think about it, my memories will return. It’s just so frustrating.’
Gayle glanced at her. ‘I know. Which university are you studying at?’
‘Oh, right. It’s St Andrews.’ That was what the note from the police had said regarding the address on her driving licence. It sounded as though her student accommodation was in halls of residence there. And it was where her mother had addressed her letters and cards over the past year. ‘Perhaps when I said I preferred the Cairngorms to the city, it’s because I don’t like the city where the university is.’
‘Oh, I doubt that very much. It’s in a beautiful setting in a town called Fife.’
Robyn turned in her seat to look at Gayle. ‘Have you been there?’
‘Oh, yes. When I was a child, we went on holiday there several times. It has the most idyllic beaches in Scotland – at least, that’s what my parents thought.’ Gayle paused. I’ve got an idea. We’ll look up when the spring term starts. You can stay with me until then, and I’ll take you back to university, get you settled in for the start of the new term. How does that sound?’
Robyn wasn’t sure what to say. Wouldn’t it be better if she went home? But where was that, exactly? Did she even have a family home, or had her mum sold up – or given up a rental, if she hadn’t owned her own home – and just gone travelling when Robyn had gone to university?
Right now, until she wrote to her mother and let her know what was going on, Robyn didn’t have a clue. It was a shame that her phone must have been lost, along with her handbag, in the accident, otherwise she could have just phoned her mum. She’d have had her number in her phone.
Robyn looked at Gayle. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to St Andrews, even if the town was lovely and the beaches idyllic. It was the memory thing – that was the problem. She wouldn’t know what lectures she was meant to go to, who her friends were, or whether she could even cope with the course. But it was the pregnancy that bothered her most. The child she’d lost. Who was the father of the baby she’d been expecting? She imagined he was another student. But who? She just couldn’t go back to her old life, and face him, until her memory returned.
But she couldn’t stay on with Gayle in her lovely house forever.
She was resigned to the fact that she’d have to return to university. ‘Thanks, Gayle. That sounds great,’ she said.
‘Does it?’ Gayle glanced at her. ‘Something tells me you’re not keen on the idea of returning to your studies.’
Robyn heaved a sigh, and admitted she wasn’t, and the reasons why. ‘And don’t say that if I go back it might jog my memory.’
‘Not at all. There’s a bit of time until then, anyway. You’ve got time to decide what you want to do. Who knows – perhaps that’s what you were doing here over the Christmas break; deciding on your future, and whether you wanted to go back.’
Robyn hadn’t thought of that. She couldn’t even remember what course she was studying. Perhaps she’d discovered the subject wasn’t for her, and she’d come to Aviemore to get away and consider her options?
Gayle reached over and patted her hand. ‘You are welcome to stay for as long as you like, all right?’
Robyn smiled in relief. ‘Thank you, Gayle. That means a lot.’
‘Fantastic – that’s settled, then.’
Robyn continued to enjoy the scenery. As they approached the picturesque Highland town surrounded by snow-capped peaks, and frosty pine forests, Robyn wound her window down to feel the invigorating chill in the air. She caught a glimpse of the icy loch through the trees, which glistened under the pale winter sun, its frozen surface shimmering like glass.
They reached the town limits. Aviemore sparkled with festive lights, its bustling shops looked warm and inviting, enticing shoppers inside from the wintry weather. Gayle left the main road and started driving through Aviemore, looking for a parking space. ‘Did you have a chance to open the rest of the letters? Perhaps your mum is coming home soon?’
Robyn frowned. But where is home?
As they drove through the town, Robyn kept an eye out for the bank.
‘I would have thought she’d want to spend Christmas with you.’
Robyn recalled the cheque she’d received in the post, and the last letter she’d received, in November time, from Rhodes. ‘I think her idea was that I went to her for Christmas – abroad.’
‘Ah.’
‘Obviously I preferred to stay in Scotland.’
Gayle nodded. ‘Who wouldn’t want to spend Christmas in this beautiful part of the world, eh?’
Gayle pulled up at the kerb in front of a parade of shops. ‘We’ll have to walk to the bookshop from here. I thought I’d get parked in the station car park opposite the bookshop, but it’s only a small car park, and it looked full.’
Robyn knew they’d passed the railway station and had parked at the other end of the long street that was Aviemore’s main shopping street. ‘This is fine. I wouldn’t mind the walk.’ Robyn admitted, ‘I wanted to pop into a bank as well, if there is one in Aviemore.’ She realised she’d have to mention it as they walked through the town together.
‘All right. Sorry to ask, but do you remember who you bank with?’
‘I don’t have to.’ Robyn got out her savings book. ‘I found this in my suitcase.’
‘Oh, Robyn, that is good news. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a debit account with that bank too. Then you can stop your bank card.’
Robyn frowned. ‘How do you mean?’
‘They’re lost – right? Your handbag, or purse, whichever you had on you at the time, hasn’t been found, so at least if someone comes across them on a walk, and they’re not, you know, honest, and they try and use your bank card, you can put a stop to that possibility.’
Robyn had been so surprised and relieved at the large sum of money that had been deposited into her savings account that she hadn’t thought of informing them her bank card, if she had one, had been lost. She was glad she’d mentioned to Gayle that she wanted to go to a bank after all.
‘The thing is, Gayle, I don’t have the details of my bank card.’
‘Well, you have your name and date of birth. And that savings account. I’m sure under the circumstances, they’ll be able to locate a bank account, if you have one with them.’ Gayle looked at the savings book. ‘So, what’s the name of the bank?’
Robyn told her.
‘Ah, I’m not sure if there’s a branch in Aviemore, or close by. To be honest, there have been so many branch closures, we’re lucky to have even one bank.’
As they walked along the street together, Robyn said, ‘Oh, Gayle, that’s going to be a problem if I can’t withdraw any money.’
‘How come? You could phone your bank when we get back to the house, and explain what happened, and that you bank with them, and may have a bank account, and you lost your card. Then they can issue you with a new one, I’m sure.’
‘But they might send my bank card to my address at university.’
‘Or they might send it to your home address.’
Robyn frowned. She didn’t know where that was, and she doubted the bank would give out those personal details over the phone. Besides, it would raise questions if she admitted she didn’t know her home address.
‘I wanted to withdraw some money now, otherwise I can’t pay you any rent money – for the room.’
‘Rent money?’ Gayle laughed. ‘Robyn, it would be a crime if I charged you rent. It’s not exactly a des res with all mod cons, is it? The plumbing always packs up just when you want to have a bath. Or the boiler decides to go on the blink so there’s no hot water. I don’t think I told you that. The place needs rewiring – power cuts are frequent, and it can be blooming cold because there isn’t central heating, just night storage heaters. No matter what setting I put them on, they always, always lose all their heat by the time you want to sit in the warm in the evening. So, I couldn’t possibly charge you rent to stay in my parents’ creepy, rundown old place.’
Robyn didn’t think it was creepy – although she hadn’t slept there yet – but Gayle was right: it was rundown. ‘But it’s still a roof over my head, Gayle.’
‘Yeah, so is a bench in Paddington Station, but you don’t have to pay for that, do you? Besides, you’re my friend, and my guest – and that’s that. I don’t want to hear another word about it.’
Robyn smiled. ‘All right, Gayle. I’ll stay on while I sort myself out, on one condition …’
‘Which is?’
‘You pay me rent to stay there.’
Gayle burst out laughing.
They were both still smiling at Robyn’s little joke as they approached the railway station and started across the road to Wilbur’s Bookstore.