Chapter 34
She’d been tempted to stay for the rest of the firework display and a warming hot chocolate before returning to the van, but she’d resisted the urge, thinking of Gayle and her mum alone on Hogmanay. This time, David drove. It was now in the early hours, and although he was tired, like Robyn, he knew the road. She couldn’t wait to get back to see them.
Robyn glanced at him. ‘What did Joe mean when he said it was like old times?’
‘I could drive this road with my eyes closed.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ Robyn joked. He was avoiding her question – she was sure of it.
They travelled some distance in silence.
Robyn’s eyes had been growing heavy as the movement of the van lulled her to sleep. She’d just been drifting off when David’s voice startled her awake.
‘It was his idea,’ David said.
Her eyes shot open. ‘Huh – what did you say?’
‘I said it was his idea, me going into ice hockey.’
‘Whose idea?’
‘My father’s. He said I was talented, had a gift for the sport.’ He glanced at Robyn. ‘You don’t know anything about the ice hockey league in Scotland, do you?’
Robyn shook her head, feeling frustrated that she couldn’t distinguish between what she didn’t know because she’d lost her memory, and what she genuinely had no idea about.
‘There are eight teams that compete in the Scottish National League.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’d just transferred to one of the teams that compete in the EIHL when it happened.’ He slapped his knee. ‘And that was the end of my career.’
She didn’t want to ask him about his accident. Robyn glanced at his knee and asked, ‘What’s the EIHL?’
‘Oh, sorry – that the Elite Ice Hockey League, the top tier, if you like, of ice hockey in the UK. Two Scottish teams compete in that league, and I was going to be in one of them until …’ he trailed off.
She had the urge to reach out and place her hand over his, but then he lifted his hand from his bad knee and put it on the steering wheel. She made do with throwing him an empathetic smile instead. She wanted to reassure him it was alright if he wanted to talk to her, about anything. She would listen. But she didn’t know how.
‘When did you start playing ice hockey?’ she ventured.
‘I picked up a hockey stick – well, no, that’s not strictly true; actually, my father put one in my hand as soon as I could walk. He tried Joe out as well, but he was less agile and didn’t take to ice-skating the way I did. He’s heavier-set, broad-shouldered. I imagine he might have been good at rugby, but he didn’t have the build for ice hockey. Joe would always be too slow to compete in the game.’
Robyn thought of Joe’s big, broad shoulders. ‘He might have made a good football goalie too.’
‘Yeah, he might have.’ David stared out of the front window. ‘But my father wasn’t interested in football or rugby. It had to be ice hockey. He wanted a son who would be an ice hockey legend.’
‘Why?’ Robyn couldn’t quite understand. ‘Did your father never make it beyond little league, or something?’ How awful , she thought, to impose your own dreams on your kids . She’d never do something like that.
David laughed. ‘He never played a game of ice hockey in his life! Just loves the game, I guess.’ He sighed. ‘He put me on the ice, and a stick in my hand, and I took to it like a duck to water.’ David didn’t sound happy about it. ‘I wish I hadn’t, because it turned into my whole life, until recently. But there you are. No one can change the past.’
‘So, your father was right – you do … did … have a gift, then?’
‘Gifts come at a price, Robyn.’
She stared at him, wondering what he meant by that.
‘Hard work, sacrifice, loss.’ He didn’t stop there. ‘Every weekend, evening, it was ice hockey practice. There was no time for anything else. Hockey, hockey, hockey.’ He slammed his fist hard on the dashboard, making Robyn jump in surprise and making the van swerve.
David grabbed the steering wheel before they ran off the road into the snowy plains.
Robyn withdrew her hands from the front dashboard, where she’d braced in case the van skidded.
‘And you thought I’d run us off the road!’ She folded her arms and stared at him. She knew that was what he had been thinking when she’d insisted on driving his van.
David glanced at her sheepishly. ‘Sorry.’
‘I should think so!’ Robyn replied, indignantly. She’d driven them all the way there, on a Snow Road she’d never travelled on before, in a van she’d never driven before, without incident – the stag notwithstanding.
Driving along in silence again, Robyn’s expression softened. She was thinking about what he’d said about hard work, sacrifice, and loss.
She turned to David, hoping he’d open up again about his past. She imagined that the injury, forcing him out of the game, must have come as a blow, especially when he was about to compete in the Elite Ice Hockey League. Wouldn’t that make anyone bitter, and resentful, and change their feelings toward something they might have loved?
‘You must have liked ice hockey once, to get where you did.’
‘Yes. Once. Not anymore. Not for a long time.’
‘How long?’ Robyn wasn’t sure she wanted the answer, not sure she wanted to know how long he had been wasting his life on someone else’s dream.
‘It doesn’t matter anymore.’
They both fell silent, watching the road ahead. It wouldn’t be long, and then they’d reach the end of the Snow Road and be back in Grantown-on-Spey, and well on their return journey to Aviemore.
Robyn glanced at David and felt disappointed that the conversation had ended. It seemed that just as suddenly as he had opened up about his past, he had clammed up. And he still hadn’t answered her question – what did Joe mean when he said it was like old times? Had Joe been referring to the fight David had got into with his father? Somehow, she wouldn’t be surprised. He sounded like a mean, selfish old man.
Robyn chanced another question. ‘He doesn’t seem resentful or jealous, does he? Your brother, I mean.’
‘Of me?’ David said surprised. ‘Why should he be? I mean, look at me – all washed up at twenty-six, with a busted knee and no career.’
Robyn stared at him. Perhaps he’d opened up a little too much. She’d certainly got a bit more than she bargained for. She imagined that next he’d be telling her his marriage had fallen apart, he was divorced, and he had kids.
Robyn thought she’d stop with the questions – for now.
‘You know, my brother was lucky.’
‘How so?’ Robyn thought it would have been the other way around. David had had fame and fortune, his face in the papers, travel, a nice bank balance, she imagined, and a flashy car. She frowned at the thought of the flashy car that she’d driven into, which was, she imagined, a write-off. And what about a nice house and bank balance from all his years in ice hockey? Why was he living with his father? She hoped it was just a temporary arrangement while he found himself something more permanent.
‘I watched him grow up doing all the things I longed to do. All the things normal kids do, like sleepovers with their friends, or just hanging out after school, going out on a Saturday night with their first date. With me, it was all practice, practice, practice.’
Robyn braced her hands on the dashboard, just in case.
She had a thought. ‘Did he go to practice with you?’
‘Who?’
‘Your brother,’ Robyn said. ‘Did he go with you and your father?’
‘Of course not.’ The question took David by surprise. He looked at her as though she had just beamed down from another planet. ‘Why would he?’
‘Well, the reason I ask is that perhaps you’ve never put yourself in your brother’s shoes.’ She didn’t mean to mock him, or to be unkind, but while David was busy feeling sorry for himself, she wondered if he had ever stopped to think about the situation from his kid brother’s perspective. Had he felt left out and less important to his father because it was all about his big brother, and the game? It made her wonder. She asked, ‘Where was Joe when your dad was taking you every evening and weekend to ice hockey practice?’
‘Having a good time with friends, like I told you.’ David was quick to answer, the envy in his voice unmistakable.
‘But maybe he would have liked to have spent some time with his father. Don’t you think he would have felt left out? I mean, it must have appeared as though it was all about you—’ She stopped. She kept her eyes riveted on the road ahead, and thought she just might have gone a little too far. After all, what real business was it of hers – David and Joe’s past? Except that she did care about David, and she cared about what hurt him. And things in his past had hurt him. She saw that his father had hurt him, and she hadn’t realised until now how much it had hurt her – and now here she was, virtually telling David to shut up and stop feeling sorry for himself. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
‘And what makes you such an authority on my family?’ David said, his voice rising in anger.
Robyn stared at him and suddenly felt an irrational fear over what might happen next. She couldn’t explain it. She couldn’t imagine that David would really suddenly pull the van over, jump out, race around to her side of the car, and pull her out, and have a huge row right in the middle of the road. And yet she had pictured it. She had no idea where that thought had come from. She hoped to goodness it wasn’t something from her past.
Of course, David did no such thing. He hunkered over the steering wheel, shaking his head and keeping his cool.
Unfortunately, Robyn didn’t keep hers. At first she was going to apologise, and then she thought, To hell with it. Why shouldn’t I speak my mind?
‘You’re mad at me because you realise that you’ve spent so long just thinking about yourself, you haven’t even stopped to consider anyone else’s feelings – like Joe’s, for instance.’
‘Are you and my brother like this now?’ He put his forefinger over his index finger and held it up in front of Robyn’s face.
She didn’t even bother responding to that ridiculous question – she’d only just met Joe. She barely knew the man. In fact, she barely knew David. She said as much, adding, ‘I’m only making an observation, from what you’ve told me – which isn’t really all that much.’
‘Well, I don’t seem to recall you being that eager to talk about your past, your family.’
That shut Robyn up. She hadn’t meant to cause an argument. But she realised she’d touched a nerve.
David shook his head. ‘Just drop it, will you.’
Robyn looked at him in surprise. ‘Me – drop it?’
He shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on the road.
Robyn turned in her seat to face him. ‘I seem to recall it was you who started it, talking about ice hockey leagues.’
‘No,’ David said, ‘I seem to recall it was you who started it with that stupid question about what Joe meant by—’
Robyn interrupted. ‘Yeah, and what the hell did that have to do with ice hockey? You didn’t even answer my question.’
‘Well, if you’d have let me finish without interrupting.’
‘Interrupting what – someone feeling sorry for themselves? You’re not the only one with problems around here, you know.’
David took his eyes off the road for a second to look at her. ‘And what’s that meant to mean?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No, come on. Tell me. What’s your story is then? You don’t talk about yourself much, do you?’
It was Robyn’s turn to say, ‘Let’s drop it.’
‘No, I want to hear what it is.’
‘I said just drop it,’ Robyn yelled.
‘Fine.’ David scowled at her and turned to look out of the window.
‘Fine,’ Robyn muttered under her breath.
They drove in silence back through the village of Grantown- on-Spey, where they’d started the evening, the crowd of people now dispersing as the car park in the village was emptying.
They continued on. As the van approached a bend in the road, David slowed down and changed gear. Around the bend, Robyn thought she recognised the place. He’d taken a different road back to Aviemore. Skid marks in the gravel were illuminated by the headlights as they came out of the curve in the road.
‘Careful!’ Robyn exclaimed as she glanced out of the passenger side window. She could just make out the cliff edge.
This was where it had happened – where they’d first met.
She turned to David. ‘Why did you bring us this way back?’ she said crossly. She didn’t want to be reminded of the accident.
David slowed the car to a halt.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I thought I’d swing by the scene of the accident to see if you remember.’
‘Remember what?’
‘Anything.’
Robyn shot him a look. ‘What are you talking about? Of course I remember the accident.’ Well, the aftermath, at any rate, she thought.
‘At first, I didn’t think anything of it. In fact, it was really refreshing to meet a girl who wasn’t self-absorbed, talking about herself all the time. And that suited me. I didn’t want to talk about me either. But then it occurred to me, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere. No family visited you in hospital. No friends. And here you are, with me today, instead of with your friends, your family on New Year’s Eve.’
Robyn sat there in silence, not feeling inclined to tell him about her memory issues.
David finally asked the question that she had expected him to ask all along. ‘What were you doing out here all alone on Christmas Day?’
Was that why he’d taken her there? To ask her that question?
‘What were you doing?’ Robyn retorted, deflecting a question she knew she couldn’t answer. She stole a glance at David.
‘Who have you been talking to?’ he said, the guarded tone of voice unmistakable.
‘What do you mean – who have I been talking to? I don’t know many people in this town.’
Robyn winced. She wished she hadn’t said that.
For some reason, that comment seemed to go over his head. David started the engine. ‘I don’t want to hang around here.’
‘Well, at least that’s something we agree on!’ Robyn kept her eyes front and centre, wishing she hadn’t seen that steep cliff edge as they took off again along the road. She willed David to keep his eyes on the road; one slip and they would both be down that embankment.
Just as they pulled back on to the road from the gravel passing place, too near the cliff edge for her liking, she caught sight of tyre tracks in the mud on the other side of the road, coming from the direction of the wood.
She stared at him. There had been something bugging her about the accident; specifically the photo of their mangled cars in the newspaper article. The odd angle of his car meant she was sure he couldn’t have been travelling in the opposite direction. So where had he come from?
Her eyes roved to the wood across the road as she thought about the tyre tracks. She looked at David. Were those his tyre tracks? If he hadn’t been on the road, but in the wood instead, then it wasn’t her who had run into him, losing control of her car as she approached the bend in the road, and driving into David coming in the other direction. That was what she’d been led to believe. It had been David, coming through the woods, accidentally driving into her as she rounded the bend on the road.
She frowned. That couldn’t be true. Why would he have been driving through a wood, heading in the direction of the road, in the direction of the cliffs?
Robyn caught him rubbing his knee again as he drove. ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ she said, narrowing her eyes, ‘about what you were doing on this stretch of road on Christmas Day.’
‘Neither did you.’
It was a stand-off. They both sat in silence once more – all the way back to Gayle’s.