by Ruth Hay
Sandra thought it would be a good idea to get up and start preparing a breakfast for the group. It was important to get some good nutrition before such a day and she knew all about nutrition. It was something she could contribute and she was pleased to do it.
Valerie awoke to the delicious smell of bacon grilling. Not that she was lacking food. There had been plenty of that in the last few days but there was such comfort in the ordinary foods associated with a leisurely breakfast on the weekend. This was not a weekend. She could not imagine what the weekend would be like. Today the wedding took precedence. Zoe would be gone to the hotel just after noon to see to final arrangements. Valerie would drive her party to the hotel later, after everyone had showered, bathed and dressed in their finery. Sandra was to change into shoes Suzanne was bringing, once she got to the hotel.
Tomorrow, Zoe and Wesley would leave for a flight to their first honeymoon destination.
Friday, everyone would leave for home except Valerie who was to take the train to Glasgow early on Saturday to prepare for a small group arriving from Canada for a Castles Tour starting on Monday.
Where had the week gone? Had anything on her list been accomplished at all? Certainly it had been a far different seven days than she had expected, but could there be any complaint when she and her friends were to be guests at Zoe’s wedding?
She promised herself a quiet time somewhere so she could recoup her strength for the tour but, for the moment, the bacon beckoned.
The private dining room at The Daffodil Hotel was in readiness for the small wedding party. The white linen-clad chairs were arranged in a semi-circle with a space for the bride and groom to walk to the back of the room. The two groomsmen and the matron of honour sat among Valerie’s party and chatted informally until the local vicar arrived and took up his station under an arch of white gardenias. Quietly the groom, his best man and Suzanne, stepped into position. Music from a hidden device began to play the Pachelbel Canon as the French doors opened and everyone stood, turning to see Zoe enter on the arm of her father.
Her dress was pure Zoe. A white, strapless sheath, fitted to her knees, flared out into a train that frothed to sweep the floor at the back but was raised at the front to just above her ankles. A pair of white court shoes, encrusted with crystals to match the pattern on her gown, added sparkle. Her hair was crowned with a tiara of crystals among which a sapphire held centre position. She carried a bouquet of white gardenias with a trail of greenery that touched her shoes.
Michael looked proud enough to burst.
Wesley looked astounded.
Zoe looked happier than she ever had before.
Valerie, Sandra and Corinne gasped and passed a handkerchief surreptitiously from one to the other.
The words flowed over the heads of the guests. Old words honed with time and familiarity but still possessing the magic of promises made and accepted.
“Zoe Grace Morton, you have always held my heart in your hands. I vow to protect and love you with all the strength and power I can command. From this day forth I will walk with you on whatever paths of life are before us. I will comfort and cherish you in joy and sorrow. My strength and wisdom are yours to command, as they have always been. Accept this ring, Zoe, as a token of my love. Its circle binds me to you forever as your husband.”
“Wesley Jason Philips, I know you to be a man of great patience and unlimited compassion. I offer you all my heart in the sure knowledge that it will be in the best hands possible. I vow to give you freely of my love for now and for the future and to follow you on whatever paths we choose. I will comfort and cherish you in joy and sorrow. My strength and compassion are yours to rely on. My fidelity is my gift to you.
Accept this ring, Wesley, as a token of my promises. Its circle binds me to you forever as your wife.”
Thursday.
In many ways, Thursday was destined to be an anti-climax.
There were slight headaches remaining from an excess of food, wine, dancing and sheer happiness.
No one in the apartment was feeling energetic. Coffee was all that was wanted when the trio finally emerged into daylight. Valerie tried to rally her troops but they were emotionally and physically wiped out after all the previous evening’s excitements.
“I know it’s our last day, Val, but honestly, I can’t see me doing anything much today. Ask me again in an hour or two. I’m heading back to bed.”
Valerie couldn’t blame Sandra. Corinne followed her lead and closed the heavy drapes over the windows in her room. It was going to be a peaceful morning, at least, thought Valerie as she ventured out on the balcony for a breath of air and to consider the options. She settled herself in a chair with cushions at her back and a throw over her legs and was just drifting off to sleep when her phone rang in the living room.
“Darn the thing! Where did I leave it? It’s going to wake the others.”
By the time she tracked it down under the remaining cushion it was on the last ring.
“Yes?”
“Sorry to disturb you. It’s the front office. I have a package for Mrs. Valerie Westwood. It was delivered first thing and has to be given into that lady’s hands directly.”
“I see. I’ll be along in a short while. Thanks.”
Now I’ll have to get dressed. This had better be something important. What happened to my peaceful morning? Grumbling under her breath she pulled a coat out of the hall closet, threw it over her nightclothes and trudged along the inner hallway and out the main door then across at the road level and down the steps to the office where a housekeeper was talking on the phone to someone.
“Just one minute. I think the person you want has walked into the office. Hold on please.”
She looked at Valerie and asked for her name.
“Right you are! There’s someone on the line for you, Mrs. Westwood. And don’t forget your package here.”
Too much at once, thought Valerie, as she hitched up her pyjama pants and reached for the phone.
“Hello! Valerie here.”
“This is good timing, Valerie. It’s Jeanette calling from Oban. I was talking to Mum in Vancouver and she filled me in on your itinerary. I was wondering if you would like to take a side trip here before your tour starts. There’s someone who would like to meet you.”
“What? Please repeat that, Jeanette. We were at a wedding last night and I am not at my brightest this morning. If it’s still morning, that is.”
Jeanette’s throaty laugh filled Valerie’s ears and gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. The second time through, she grasped the message and her first reaction was, no. The week had been full of the unexpected and this last request was one too many.
Jeanette cleverly understood the hesitation and filled in with another incentive.
“You see, Valerie, your name has been mentioned so many times by so many people I know, and one of them is anxious to put a face to the name. Can you guess who?”
“Really! I am not in a fit state for guessing games today, Jeanette, and I can’t see that I have time.”
“Oh, it’s such a short train ride from Glasgow to Oban. Please reconsider. Anna Drake wants to show you around her house.”
This news jump-started Valerie’s brain. Suddenly she felt she had to make time for this opportunity.
“What a kind offer. I apologize, Jeanette. It would be churlish to refuse your suggestion. Let me finish up here in Ambleside and I’ll get back to you with a time frame.”
She copied down the number on the back of the package waiting on the desk, and said goodbye to Jeanette and the office worker.
“One more thing!” the woman insisted, as she brought up from beneath the desk a huge pot of gardenias.
“This came with the package.”
Sandra got out of bed when she noticed Val was not beside her. She looked around the apartment and out on the balcony but Val was not visible and there was no note to say she had gone somewhere. This was not at all like her friend and worry
started to grow. She was looking around in the kitchen for the second time when she heard a quiet knock at the door. Val stood there with her hands full of flowers and a package under her arm.
“Quick! Take these Sandy! I had to knock with my elbow. Go and wake Corinne. I think this is from Zoe.”
The flowers were placed on the coffee table and their scent soon filled the room reminding everyone of the wonderful wedding. It was too soon to talk about it and yet, they knew there would have to be an opportunity to discuss it in depth one of these days to consolidate it all in their minds. It felt for now, like an evening in a dream sequence from a magical movie.
The package consisted of three large envelopes and an additional, smaller one for Valerie. Each woman took her envelope and opened it to find a large card inscribed with ‘Thank You’ on the front. All had different colourful designs but inside each was a hand-written, personal message from Zoe. There was no need to share the messages. One look at another’s face signified how meaningful Zoe’s words were.
“That girl!” choked out Sandra. “She must have brought these from London with her and there’s a beautiful photograph of the bride and groom inside. She’s something else, isn’t she?’
Neither Corinne nor Valerie was in a fit state to contradict her.
Valerie opened the smaller envelope and found a cheque of such a sum that she could not help a word she rarely spoke, escaping her mouth.
“What is it, Val?”
“Zoe’s sent a cheque to cover the price of the dresses with an apology for not thinking to do this herself. And, there’s a second cheque for the rental of this apartment.”
“We were going to take care of the second one and the first, Val, but I guess Zoe got there before us.”
“You know it wasn’t necessary, ladies. I was more than happy to take care of all of it for the pleasure of your company.”
“Valerie Westwood, you are a gem but much too generous! I am taking the extra dresses you bought for us back to Birmingham and you will get a reimbursement via M&S for those.”
The good news made up Valerie’s mind. They had a half day left and it was time to get up and go.
They soon decided to walk down to Waterhead and clear their brains with the exercise, then take a short ferry ride across Lake Windermere to Wray Castle. It wasn’t the climb Valerie had intended, but it would not tax their strength and they could eat at the great restaurant beside the lake on their return to Waterhead. All of them had packing to do for tomorrow’s departure.
She had not yet told them about Jeanette’s offer but there would be time to talk about that and other things on the journey. The day was clear and mild. Perfect for a sail.
Friday.
Departures are not pleasant. The only thing that could compensate for the pulling apart of the ties of friendship is the assurance the friends will meet again before too long. This pledge was given and received.
Calendars were consulted and tentative plans made.
Valerie was pleased her change of plan meant she was not to be alone in the apartment one more night. Now she could travel north with Sandy and see Ian briefly at the station before she changed trains for Oban. It would be a happy conclusion to the week and something different for her to look forward to.
She had never been to Oban before but she had heard talk of its splendours from Jean, Jeanette and even more recently from Alina. She wondered if that lady had any influence on Jeanette’s invitation. They seemed to be a very close group of friends, much like her own group. Women had the ability to gravitate together in this way and such friendships were life-sustaining when troubles arrived, as they do in all human lives.
It was a particularly attractive train journey to which Valerie gave her full attention for the first hour or so after which she fell deeply asleep to be wakened by the sound of the train arriving at the Oban terminal.
Jeanette and her husband, George were waiting to take her to the McCaig estate farmhouse, but first they drove around Oban as was their custom when a visitor arrived for the first, of what they hoped would be many visits.
Valerie was enchanted with the unique buildings ascending the hill and the antique structure on top that looked like something from Roman times. The sea was always in sight and hotels were plentiful.
George explained this was the jumping off point for ships to the Inner and Outer Hebrides and some of Scotland’s most striking scenery was within an hour’s distance. Valerie noted she had been close to Oban when she took tours to Eilean Donan Castle or to Glenmorie. It would not be difficult to add a stop in this attractive town to one of her tours.
When they drove away from the sea they were soon approaching Anna Drake’s home, crouching under a high hill for shelter from the west winds. Jeanette called it ‘Helen’s Hill’ and said Anna would tell her the tale if there was time. On the way, Jeanette pointed out the farmhouse where Bev and Alan lived. Sandra had mentioned this couple to Valerie just recently when she told how she and Ian had bought their new place on Mull. She thought again, what a small world it had become.
Valerie was to stay overnight with Anna and travel by train back to Glasgow later on Saturday or Sunday.
They dropped Valerie off at the gate as Liam and Annette had to be picked up from school. Valerie thanked them profusely, and made her way up the path through the south-facing garden to a bright red door with her case in hand.
The woman who opened the door was tall, with a shock of pure white hair on her head and a warm smile on her face.
“Come in! Come away in! It’s so grand to meet you at last. All my friends seem to know about you, Valerie, and I had to meet you for myself. This was too good a chance to miss. Isn’t it strange we are from the same Canadian town and yet we have never met there? Let me take your coat. Leave your case for now and come into the kitchen for a wee strupak, as they call it here.”
Valerie found it easy to follow orders from this handsome older woman who spoke with such warmth and authority. The strupak turned out to be a fine spread on a large oak table. Scones and jam, butter and cheese were there in abundance with cookies and a Victoria sponge cake dripping with thick cream. A huge brown teapot, such as Valerie’s mother used to own, took pride of place in the centre with mugs and teacups around it for choice. A fat brown cat sat on a bench nearby and raised its head to briefly inspect the newcomer. It was altogether a remarkably inviting scene and she felt her heart lift at this truly Highland welcome. No wonder everyone she had met from Fiona to Jean spoke so highly of this woman.
As the first few minutes had gone, so went the rest of the day. Valerie found Anna very easy to talk to. Within an hour they were chatting away like old friends. Their life paths had been different in many respects, but they were women who had taken charge of their destinies and made good lives for themselves.
Anna was interested in the tour company work Valerie did and in her Canadian family spread out through the country. She had some experience of this dilemma from Jeanette and also because Anna had branches of her family in Glasgow and France as well as in Prince Edward island.
“You may find yourself travelling back and forth like a yoyo, Valerie, as I do.”
“It’s been happening for some time already, Anna, and will probably get worse when the grandkids are older and start their working lives. Isn’t it strange how the global village means a kind of travel our parents and grandparents could never have imagined?”
“True! My mother and father left Scotland for Canada and never made one trip back to their homeland. Some of that was a financial decision and some was for family reasons. I have made up for it with constant trips back and forth.”
She thought for a moment and crinkled her eyes as she decided to reveal a secret to her listener.
By this time they were comfortably seated beside a glowing peat fire in a charming cozy lounge across from the kitchen, and Valerie could see the firelight gleaming in Anna’s deep-set eyes.
“I am at the place in my life
now where I must cut down on the travels, Valerie. My doctors say I need to take more care of myself. I feel you will understand when I say it is most difficult for me to decide where I should rest my weary bones.”
“Indeed, I do understand. It’s a choice I will face also. I’ve been very fortunate to have a part-time job which allows me to cross the Atlantic without the huge costs every time. When I retire, I won’t be able to afford this so easily and the same decision you are facing will be mine. How will you make this decision, Anna?”
“It’s a very serious problem. I have a comfortable, convenient home in London and you, of all people, know how easy life is in Canada compared to most other places. You have seen my condo and met Alina. Philip, her husband, is there to help her and he would help me too, but I would hate to say goodbye to my other dear friends here in Oban. I would have to be prepared to leave this home so full of precious memories of my beloved husband, Lawren. I don’t know if I could bear that.”
Silence grew, broken only by the crackling of a flame in the fireplace. It was a solemn moment. Valerie could imagine how Anna’s friends might try to influence her to do what would suit them best. As someone with no agenda to promote in this situation, Valerie felt she could offer a suggestion which had occurred to her during the period of her own deliberations about where to live out her days.
“It’s not my place to intrude, Anna, but, in the end we have to make the decision that suits our later days. If there is enough money left, either of us could live a very comfortable life at our favourite home, with sufficient support from paid helpers. Or else, we could move into assisted living accommodations. There is plenty of that kind of thing in London, Ontario. I don’t know the availability here in Scotland. There are other factors, of course.”