Chapter 40
Lesson 39: Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Reading List: 44 Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith (read)
Bridget Jones Tally:
fish: 9
chips: hundreds
dry eyes: 0
Books That Should Have Been Included on the Tour Reading List:
Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus by John Gray
Auto Repair for Dummies by Deanna Sclar
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
Cesar’s Rules: Your Way to Train a Well-Behaved Dog by Cesar Millan
Rude Britain: The 100 Rudest Place Names in Britain by Rob Bailey and Ed Hurst
As we neared Edinburgh, I approached it with fifty percent mounting excitement for a climactic ending to an incredible trip, and fifty percent as if my toenails were being slowly wrenched away one by one by a blind sadist with a tremor. Robbie and I had spent practically every hour of every day together for three weeks, and soon I would be handing over my luggage—most likely to be torn limb from limb, set aflame, and then partially digested by a wildcat and regurgitated directly upon the baggage carousel—and then getting on a plane and flying home.
Home. The thought of it stirred trepidation and discomfort. Getting my life on track was going to be hard.
I was proud to say the trip had done many of the things that I had hoped it might, and many other things that I hadn’t expected.
I felt more in touch with my feelings. I was more capable of living in the present. I was beginning to see the beauty now
in life’s unchartered territories and the joys of spontaneity, and the value of having great friends along the way. Learning
from others, embracing mistakes—I was seeing the world with a fresh lens, and I wanted to make sure that going home wouldn’t
mean going back to who I was before and losing sight of all that.
The idea of leaving Robbie was torture. But I knew that it had always had an expiration date, and so did he. We had become
a couple in the space of a week. I hoped I would be up to the task of telling him what that meant to me. He had helped me
to feel more like myself than I had in a long time, perhaps more than I ever had. Still healing—yes. Still a mess—maybe. But
a beautiful mess who was learning to adapt, who was learning to take life for all it had to offer, to be able to learn from
the hardships and move on: suck all the chocolate off, spit the raisin out, and walk away.
I wasn’t really sure how things would be between us when I got home—how we would settle into a long-distance friendship, how often we would call or message or send little gifts—but I knew without question that we would. Even if it would be years before we saw each other again, it wouldn’t matter; it would feel as if no time at all had passed. I felt proud of myself for being able to open up to the joyful experience of caring about someone new without a long-term agenda or plan for the future in sight. For others it might have been a free and easy no-strings holiday romance—for me it took strength and courage.
Edinburgh up close was even more beautiful than I had dreamed. Like my favorite books, it was an intriguing mixture of light
and dark. The ancient sandstone wore varying shades of gray, some buildings having turned completely black over the many hundreds
of years of soot and grime and time. These huge Gothic structures towered over the landscape, making everything feel a little
bit creepier, and inspiring thoughts of all the things they had witnessed in their years: wonders and horrors, celebrations,
wars won, witch drownings, conquering armies, plagues, kings and queens come and gone. Dark, mossy cobbled paths snaked their
way between crooked buildings, making shortcuts for those on foot who would experience damp, cold, dripping passageways that
opened to sunny squares, cathedral spires, and what must be some of the most beautiful streets and buildings in the world.
The weather obligingly went along with the theme, moodily mercurial. The locals warned that you would get all four seasons
in one day: gray and stormy one minute, warm and sunny the next. Between the cold stone of the buildings and the gray, rocky
mountains they hunched upon, the city was awash with daffodils and roses and trees heavy with sweet blossom in a joyous spectrum
of color.
I happened to like my ethereal beauty with a dash of ghoulish macabre, and found that the aesthetic of the city appealed to
me immensely. It was a photographer’s fantasy of moody shadows and crooked angles.
If the city looked lofty, grand, and darkly mysterious, then the vibe couldn’t have been more different. It was a happy city where, despite the weather, people busily bustled on foot, were quick with smiles as you passed, and were always pleased to help with directions if needed. It would be a great place to live. There were lots of cool pubs to meet friends for drinks, as well as music, art, and festivals. And all of those mountains and steep streets would be great for your derriere.
“Hey, so I’ve been thinking,” Robbie began that morning, as I stretched and started stirring back to life. I wished that he
would get naked and come back to bed. “I know you have tonight booked in the Grassmarket, but I was wondering if you would
want to cancel your room tomorrow for your last night, and come and stay at mine instead.”
It was a lovely, thoughtful idea. Even better, it would sate my ravenous curiosity.
“Hmm...” I said, making him work for it. “Is it up to hotel standards? Because I feel like it’ll be filthy.”
“It’s revolting.”
“Rats?”
“Oh, yes. Beautiful, plump things. I’ve been fattening them up on butter pats and tiny shortbreads. I think you’ll approve.”
“Good. What about the views? Nice views are important.”
“Well, I can promise rather a nice view of my arse if you ask politely.” Don’t mind if I do.
“Done. Is it centrally located?”
“You’ll be located in the very heart of my bedroom, just steps away from your every desire.” He smiled and added, “Provided
that they are purely carnal in nature, and that you don’t need for literally anything else, because other than that, I can offer zero amenities.”
“ Alright ,” I droned out, like a child being forced to clean her room. Really I could think of nothing better. “I guess so. I’ll hate
it, but at least I’ll save some money.”
“Oh, you’ll pay for it alright,” he said lasciviously.
I smacked him on the bum. “Deal.”
“Excellent!” He was excited. His eyes sparkled. “Can I make you dinner, or would you rather go out? I thought you might like
something home-cooked after all this traveling, but there are lots of good restaurants nearby if you prefer.”
“I’m the type of woman who lives for adventure now, so I’ll take my life in my hands and go for the home-cooked meal, thanks.”
“Perfect! Do you like French food? Because there’s a good patch of snails living in the bathroom that I’ve been meaning to
get rid of.”
There was so very much to see and eat in Edinburgh, and we tried to do it all! We spent a good hour in the incredible little
mansion set back from the Royal Mile that had been turned into a Scottish writers’ museum. We went through the ancient, gnarled
cemetery Greyfriars Kirk and heard about its famous little dog, Bobby. We went to the fabulous Armchair Books, where there
were so many secondhand and antique books that stacks of them crowded in from the walls and made a cave of wonders one could
delve into and never want to leave. We passed by the castle and the palace, both incredibly beautiful, and the Elephant House
café where J. K. Rowling was said to have written Harry Potter at the window with a cup of tea in hand. We also popped into the National Library of Scotland to see their treasures, including
some unique sculptures carved from the pages of old books, characters springing from the binding into life and capturing the
imagination.
High tea at the secret garden room at the Witchery was sheer, dreamlike decadence. Old Gothic architecture framed beautiful views, and green vines and flowers grew indoors, coiling in from every direction and snaking along the rafters, reaching out to ensnare and ensorcel the guests. Tiered silver towers were heavily laden with tiny treats both sweet and savory, and we all took our time eating and chatting and relishing one another’s company, knowing it would soon be missed. Even Percy was well-behaved, and the staff brought him a silver water bowl and a fancy doggie cookie. It was a grand highlight for the end of our tour.
Afterward, on the way down the Royal Mile, I nipped quickly into a café and bought a treat to hide in my bag. Robbie loved
surprises, and he always woke up hungry. I had gotten into the habit of secretly squirreling something away during the day
to leave on top of his bag at night as a little surprise to keep him going through the busy morning tasks. On lucky days it
might be a pain au chocolat from a café we’d been to, on less lucky days it might be a banana I’d stolen from the breakfast
room the evening before, or if that failed, a Kinder Bueno, a Mars bar, or one of the copious chocolate bars that I knew him
to eat to keep his insatiable sweet tooth at bay. He loved it, and it made me happy to know that he would discover it in the
cold dark of morning and have something to look forward to.
That day I had quietly purchased a millionaire’s shortbread to go. I knew it would be the last one I would buy for him, and
it pulled at my stomach with a hollowness that made my nose sting before I could blink it away.
When it came time for our final meal together, Robbie left it up to us, listing a few options: upscale Scottish cuisine, locally
renowned Indian restaurants, lively gastropubs. Several of us were on our phones looking at online reviews and photos when
Lorna broke in.
“You know, it would be a shame to hide from this incandescent sunshine. What if we just sit in the grass and eat right here
in the park?”
“Oh, I do like that idea,” said Doris. “And so does Percy. We could get some takeaway. Fish-and-chips and pizza sound good
to anyone?”
So that’s just what we did. We found our own little corner of Princes Street Gardens, and we all lowered down to the lush, green grass. The castle was on its great rock in front of us, the gilded mermaid fountain bubbling prettily nearby as the flowers nodded in the breeze around us. We laughed and chatted as we sipped cold cider that tasted like liquid sunshine and ate crispy, hot fish with fat, potatoey chips. I got mine with salt and Edinburgh sauce, as per Robbie’s recommendation, and it was sharp and malty as I licked it from my fingers.
The days were longer in Scotland than down south, but when the sun finally set, we were treated to a show, as the castle burst
into light, orange and pink and golden.
Robbie asked the group which part of the trip we liked best, and we all took turns describing our favorite moments in detail.
I said that mine was the moment in Skye when I realized I wasn’t lonely anymore, which made us all a little bit more teary.
Robbie held up his bottle. “Can I just say, that I meet a lot of charming ladies on these tours.” Madge wolf whistled, and
we all laughed. “But this trip has been a real adventure, with rowdy nights on the town, bodily injuries, surprise parties,
dog chases, grand mysteries, incredible revelations uncovered, friendly debates, and a whole book’s worth of stories...
even a bit of romance.” He gave me a little wink. I blushed hotly while they whistled and cheered. “I’ve rarely seen another
group grow as close as this one. Despite all our differences, you’ve been caring and supportive of one another, and a true
joy to be around.” We all clapped at this, tipsy and sentimental. Maybe it was just tiredness, but in the dimming light, I
thought Robbie’s eyes looked a little pink. He found goodbyes hard.
“I hope you’ve all enjoyed it as much as I have. You’ve done more than make my job easy; you’ve made it difficult, because
I know it’s time now to say goodbye, and I’m going to miss the hell out of you. So here’s to you, each and every one. Thank
you.” He raised his cider and drank a long draft, and we all did the same.
“Well, I’m sure the ladies won’t mind me saying thank you on all our behalves,” said Doris. “Robbie, we learned, we laughed, we lived. You’ve been our captain and our hero. And even when we were ignoring another history lesson, you were always oh-so-nice to look at!” She broke off with a cackle.
“Hear! Hear!” We all drank again.
I squeezed Robbie’s hand and gave him a little look. I recognized pride blossoming in my belly. He held on and gave me a look
back that made me feel perfectly complete, and my heart ached all the more for it.
We talked books and travel and future plans and drank more cider until dusk pulled over her blanket of stars and the castle
lit up with a silvery light. The ribbon of chill in the air became more persistent. We knew we could not put it off forever.
There were hugs all around as we said our final goodbyes on Princes Street, some hopping on the tram, some getting cabs, and
some walking up the hill, or down the hill, all starting the first steps of our own journeys home.
Berrta surprised me with a sturdy hug and a round of solid pats on the back. “Auf wiedersehen, Alice. I am happy to know you.”
“Aww. I am so happy to know you too, Berrta. Thank you. I hope next time you’re birding in the States, we can plan to see
each other.”
“Yes, good.” Just like that, she said goodbyes to whoever was left on her round, turned on her sensible orthopedic shoes,
and started walking.
Helena came and hugged me for several long minutes.
“Helena.” I let out a big breath. “What can I possibly say? How can I thank you? For everything. And not just the dresses.
You’ve held me up and kept me going—”
“Shh, shh. Hush now or you’ll ruin my mascara. This isn’t really goodbye.” She gave me a little look. “I’ve no doubt I’ll be seeing you soon. Very soon.” She gave me a kiss, another hug, and then shot Robbie a meaningful look before she took him a few steps away for a quick heart-to-heart.
Lorna and Madge came over together. “Alice!” cried Lorna. “Oh, do say we’ll see you soon. I know! Why don’t you meet us in
Santa Fe?”
“We don’t have plans to go to Santa Fe, my love.” Madge turned to me. “But please come stay with us at the studio in North
Berwick. You can stay as long as you like. Weeks. Months!”
“Yes, move right in!” said Lorna.
“I would love that!” I laughed. “And I can’t wait to see what wonderful things you do with your new art outreach program.
You’ll hear from me soon. I’m going to call you to talk over some fundraising ideas I’ve had.”
“Oh! Hear that, Madge? Professional help! Just so long as you know we can only pay you in scones.” We laughed. “I’m going
to miss you, Alice. Did I tell you that dream I had about you?”
“Yes, you did, darling. Yesterday.” Madge put a supportive arm around Lorna’s shoulder and said gently, “Come on along, love.
Pumpkin time.”
Lorna put a hankie to her nose and blew. “Oh, alright, alright, we’d better go before I fall to pieces. I just can’t help
it, can I, sweetie?”
“No, you can’t, love. You and your big, soft heart.”
We grabbed one another in a hug triangle, and I promised to email them soon.
Agatha approached and handed me her address. “In case you want to write, Alice.” She shook my hand—formal at first, but then
she put her other hand on top, like a little hand hug.
“Oh, I will. Thank you, Agatha. In fact, I have a little something I plan to send you.” If I’m not mistaken, her cheeks colored
a little.
I found Flossie having an animated chat with Doris and moved to join them.
“But if I hadn’t pulled the fire alarm, they would have caught me with my trousers down!” said Flossie, and Doris laughed.
“I hate to break this up,” I said. “But I wanted to say goodbye, and each minute I stay here, it gets harder and harder to
leave.”
“Oh, she’s in a hurry to get back to bed, I’d wager,” Flossie said with a wink. “Just remember to always keep at least one article of clothing on, to maintain an air of mystery. I suggest a hat.”
I pulled her in for a hug and laughed. “Flossie, I’m going to miss you and your stories! I’m going to do a little hunting
online and see if I can’t find anything interesting about your circus days. Would that be okay?”
“Oh, that would be grand! It feels good to connect to the past. It’s... grounding. You know what I mean?”
“I think I do, Flossie.” I gave her another hug. “Agatha gave me your address, so I’ll let you know what I find.”
Doris parked her cane to the side, and shuffled over to grab me with both arms. She had ketchup on her top, of course, but
I hugged her all the tighter for it. “Well, I guess I owe Robbie another thank-you,” she said into my ear.
“Why’s that?” I laughed.
“I was a little worried after our chat in Cambridge. Now I can rest easy in the knowledge that you have been thoroughly romanced.”
“Doris!” I laughed, and she grabbed me tighter. Percy jumped on us, jealous for all the attention that he had to share. “I’m
really going to miss you, Doris.” I leaned down and scrubbed Percy’s ears. He jumped up and I gave him a little hug. My eyes
grew cloudy. What would I do without them all? “Doris, can I just call you every single time I need life advice? Or have to
decide anything at all?”
“I’d be cross if you didn’t.”
“Good. In the meantime, when I miss you too much, I’ll just pop on ‘It’s Not Unusual’ and think of you. And of epic, passionate romance.” I gave her a smile, and she hooted and gave me a smack on the rump. “Or ‘She’s a Lady’! Is that about you, Doris? Are you the lady?”
“My lips are sealed. Now go on, me love. You’ve spent enough time with us old bags. It’s time to ride off into the sunset
with that strapping young man of yours.”
I had a little cry on the walk back to the hotel. These weren’t the same tears of grief and dread I’d cried on my own night
after night in my apartment; they weren’t the fearful tears I’d cried in the bathroom in Whitby. These were sweet. Tears just
for the joy of knowing these women. Yes, homesickness already settling in for the time I knew we would spend apart. But also
comfort for knowing that this wasn’t the end of our story together.
Robbie had tissues. Because of course he did.
Robbie stayed with me in my beautiful room in the Grassmarket. We made passionate love and had a long bath together. We said
little—neither of us wanted to face our reality. We just wanted to live in the moment. We stayed awake, wrapped naked in each
other’s arms all night. We watched the sun rise behind the castle through the window, and Robbie ordered room service, which
we ate in bed, and then finally went to sleep, wrapped up and full.