‘What’s wrong with you?’ snapped Mr Jackson when she got up for the fifth time to straighten the curtains. ‘Can’t keep still today. Don’t tell me you’re missing that grandson of mine?’
Hope assured him that although it had been lovely to meet Andrew and Mark, she certainly wasn’t missing them.
‘Maybe you need to take yourself out for the evening. Can’t be any fun for you, stuck in here with an old man like me. What’s happened to that Robbie Mackenzie? I thought he was showing an interest?’
This really wasn’t the sort of conversation Hope wanted to have and she was relieved when the phone rang. She had to go out into the hall to answer it, Kirkside not being the sort of house to have portable handsets.
‘Hello, is that Hope? It’s Clare Mackenzie here. Do you remember me?’
Hope certainly remembered Robbie’s new sister-in-law, but she couldn’t think of any reason why the girl should be phoning her. ‘Yes, of course. I had a lovely time at your wedding.’
‘Thank you. So did I! In a way, that’s why I’m phoning. Do you remember the band that played in the evening, the one where Robbie had to help out by playing fiddle?’
‘Yes, they were good. Some kind of Gaelic name.’
‘That’s right, Abhainn. They’re competing in a Battle of the Bands evening in Dumfries tonight, and have asked Robbie to join them to strengthen their line-up. Luke and I thought we’d go along to listen and we wondered if you would like to come too? That is, if you don’t have anything else on. I know it’s very last minute, but we’ve only just decided to go ourselves.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Hope, hunting around for a good reason to decline. She was fed up with being pushed. And then she thought, why shouldn’t she go? She wanted to see Robbie again, and that was what mattered. ‘Yes, I’d love to. What time were you thinking of going?’
The ‘battle’ was taking place in an elegant red-sandstone hall on the edge of the town. It was an impressive venue, with plenty of car-parking space, already well filled. Once inside Hope had little time to appreciate the rather grand décor as Luke went to buy them drinks and Clare encouraged her to push as near to the front as possible. The place was busy with crowds of teenagers interspersed with more elderly people such as themselves.
‘What actually is a Battle of the Bands?’ asked Hope.
‘To tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure.’ Clare broke off to greet a number of acquaintances and took the opportunity to question them. ‘Apparently it’s a competition for any local band who want to try and get some publicity. In somewhere like Glasgow it might end up with the band being signed to a record label, but down here I think it’s more for the kudos.’
Luke joined them and handed the girls their drinks, then pulled a typed sheet of paper from his pocket. ‘Looks like they’ve got quite a number of entries. At least twelve, the barman said. Abhainn are on third and if they get through the first round they’ll be on again after the break.’
Hope glanced nervously at her watch. Mr Jackson had insisted she stay out as long as she wanted, but she hadn’t anticipated being very late. She did, of course, have her mobile with her, but she knew how reluctant he was to contact her on that.
But she forgot all this once the music started. She had assumed the music would be Scottish traditional, but this didn’t seem to be the case at all. The first group were a bunch of teenagers who tried their best to play thrash metal. They were enthusiastic and noisy, if not exactly skilled.
Hope couldn’t help grinning and felt herself getting into the swing of things. She didn’t have to be here just to see Robbie, she could enjoy herself as well.
The second band were even noisier and she wasn’t sorry when their three-song set came to an end. Luke pointed out the judges who were sitting to one side of the stage. One had his hands over his ears, so Hope presumed this group wouldn’t be going through to the next round.
And then it was the turn of Abhainn. They looked far older than the others, and very different in their kilts. There were a number of catcalls from the audience, who obviously hadn’t been expecting this kind of music. But once Sam introduced the first number, a silence fell.
This music was totally unlike what they had played at Luke and Clare’s wedding. The feel might be Scottish-traditional, but it also had a new edge to it. Sam sang in his pronounced Scottish accent, a contrast to the pseudo-American of the earlier bands, and he was in tune, too. But it was the energy of the fiddle, the beat of the drum, that carried the song along. At the end the audience applauded rapturously. Hope almost shouted herself hoarse, clapping until her hands were sore.
‘Pretty good, hey?’ said Luke, when they could speak again. ‘He’s not bad with the fiddle, my wee brother.’
‘They were all brilliant,’ said Clare happily. ‘They’re bound to get through to the next stage. That’ll show those youngsters that crashing around with a guitar isn’t the only way to be a star.’
Privately, Hope thought Robbie looked a hundred times more handsome than the youths with their long hair and shiny shirts. Abhainn had teamed up their kilts with heavy boots and black T-shirts. They looked both stylish and slightly dangerous.
And then she had no more chance to dwell on that, because she realised Robbie had spotted them and was pushing his way towards them through the crowd.
Chapter Twenty-five
Robbie couldn’t believe it when he saw Luke and Clare and Hope standing in the crowd. They were slightly to one side, but Luke had waved wildly, so it wasn’t hard to spot them. What on earth were they doing here?
‘I didn’t expect to see you,’ he said, slapping his brother on the back. He suddenly found he wasn’t sure how to great Hope, so merely smiled at her.
‘You didn’t even tell us you were playing,’ said Clare accusingly. ‘If your mum hadn’t said, we wouldn’t have known. But I’m so glad we came, you were excellent.’
‘Which is more than you can say for some of the other bands,’ said Luke.
Robbie didn’t want to be disloyal to his fellow performers, but secretly he felt Luke was right. A girl of around twenty had now taken the stage. She had pink and blue hair and an unusual, triangular-shaped guitar. Unfortunately she didn’t seem to have put as much effort into her music as into her appearance.
He winced. ‘I think I’ll go and get myself a beer,’ he said, looking for an excuse to extract himself from the crush. ‘I’m not needed back on stage until the break.’
He was wondering how he could get Hope to go with him without making a big issue of it, when she said, ‘I’ll come with you. I could do with a bit more space.’
Clare and Luke exchanged looks which made Robbie wonder exactly what his mother had said to them. They claimed they were happy to stay where they were and ‘enjoy’ the music. Robbie took Hope’s hand and began to wend his way through the crowd.
He ordered a pint and then they went to stand against the wall at the back of the room. The music was still loud, but it was no longer ear-shattering.
‘I hope we sounded better than this,’ he said, frowning at another missed note. ‘They didn’t give us much time to do sound checks.’
‘You were brilliant,’ said Hope. ‘Easily the best so far.’
Robbie’s spirits rose immeasurably. The band felt their set had gone pretty well, but praise from Hope was more important.
They stood in silence for a while, but it felt to Robbie to be an easy silence. Whatever awkwardness there had been between them had fallen away.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said, during the next break in the music.
Hope raised her eyebrows. She had tied her hair back in a loose plait and for once you could see all of her face quite clearly. ‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ she said.
‘But you’ve been busy, with Mr Jackson, and your relatives.’ He took a deep breath. ‘At least, I presume that was why you didn’t want to speak to me?’
‘Who said I didn’t want to speak
to you?’ Hope looked puzzled. She had such an open face and he could read all her emotions on it. ‘I suppose you were busy while you were away, but you did say you were going to phone. Although there was no reason why you should …’
‘But I did,’ said Robbie. ‘I left messages for you. Twice. Didn’t you get them?’
Hope shook her head slowly. ‘I didn’t get any messages. Who did you leave them with?’
‘I presume it was Mr Jackson’s grandson, from the accent.’
‘Ah.’
‘I think he quite liked you.’ Robbie couldn’t help his tone sounding accusing.
‘He was a nice enough boy. But far too young for me.’
Finally Robbie could feel himself relaxing. He was furious the boy hadn’t passed on his messages, but that was over now. Hope hadn’t been avoiding him. He bent and caressed her hair with his cheek. ‘I’m so glad.’
Hope smiled again. She seemed to like to be near him. And then she sighed. ‘A lot has happened recently. Amy turned up at Kirkside – you remember I told you about my so-called business partner? And then there’s Cleughbrae. And then all the family things.’
Robbie sighed too. He’d somehow hoped that they could forget all the complications of Hope’s life and simply get on with being the two of them. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.
‘What on earth did Amy want?’ He listened whilst she explained, pleased that some things were going better for her. They talked about this for a while, and then he asked, ‘How do you feel about having a family connection to the Jacksons? You’d found out from Mrs Slater. Is that right?’
Hope nodded. ‘Yes. It’s quite amazing, really, isn’t it?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m pleased, of course I am, but I know some people think I knew already and I came up here to wheedle my way into his life. You said yourself it was rather too much of a coincidence, me ending up here, didn’t you?’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ he said, horrified.
‘You might not, but others do. Fortunately not Mr Jackson or Andrew or even Mark. And the other thing is, I keep thinking, why didn’t I know this? What else don’t I know? My dad’s family were so simple compared to all this.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It confuses me.’
‘Just relax. You’ll get used to it.’ Robbie felt angry that she could suspect him of suspecting her, but he could also feel some sympathy. She was such an honest person, she would hate people to think those things. He put one arm around her, wishing there was somewhere to put down his glass. ‘It’s not all bad. You’re related to a really nice family. You definitely belong in the village now.’
She sighed then, and leant her head on his shoulder. He wished he knew if this meant she was relaxing as he advised, or whether she really liked being close to him.
‘Hope, we need to go somewhere we can talk properly.’
But before she could answer Sam appeared behind them. ‘Robbie! Goodness, man, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. They’re going to start the judging soon and we need to be back up there. Can’t you leave this lovey-dovey stuff for some other time?’
Hope moved away from him. ‘Sorry. I should have known you were busy.’
‘Yes, but we still need to talk.’
‘Robbie, come on!’
‘I’ll see you later,’ said Robbie to Hope, desperate not to let her go without something being agreed.
‘I don’t know how long we’re staying. I should really get back for Mr Jackson.’
‘Tomorrow, then,’ said Robbie. ‘I’ll come and see you in the morning. Are you around?’
‘Yes, I’ll be there.’ She smiled, a proper, warm smile. ‘I’ll look forward to it. And I’m so glad I came tonight.’
‘So am I …’ There was so much more Robbie wanted to say, but he was being towed away toward the stage door by an increasingly irate Sam.
The rest of the evening passed in a daze. Abhainn did very well in the ‘battle’, coming second overall, and Robbie was pleased for them. But most of all he was pleased that he was close to resolving something with Hope.
But nervous, too. What exactly were they going to resolve?
Mr Jackson seemed to sense something was worrying Hope, although she didn’t actually mention to him she was expecting Robbie to visit. When Robbie appeared, at about ten o’clock, he gave a sigh of relief. ‘So that’s what you’ve been waiting for,’ he said. He picked up the one walking stick which was all he now needed to get around. ‘Well, I’ll leave you two young people in peace. Pass me the newspaper, will you? I’ll take that through to the sitting room.’
‘Actually, I was wondering about going out for a walk,’ said Robbie, not taking his eyes off Hope.
She smiled. ‘I was thinking exactly the same thing. It’s such a lovely sunny day we should make the most of it.’
‘Don’t take Lucy if you’re going far,’ said Mr Jackson, putting a hand on the old dog’s head. ‘She’s not up to long walks.’
‘I don’t think we’ll go far,’ said Robbie.
Once they were outside, Hope in her woollen coat and bright scarf, he said, ‘I thought we could go to Cleughbrae?’
Hope nodded. Somehow, she had known this was what he would suggest.
They walked hand in hand in silence for a while.
As they turned down the now-familiar track, Hope said, ‘Mr Jackson was just pointing out an advert to me in the local paper. Apparently one of the colleges is introducing a textile-related course. They aren’t actually advertising for staff, but he thinks I should get in touch and see if there is an opening for me.’
‘Excellent idea,’ said Robbie, smiling down at her. ‘Anything that keeps you in the area is good, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘I’ve decided to stay here if I can,’ said Hope, not looking at him. She didn’t want him to think he was the reason. ‘I think I reached the decision a while ago, although I didn’t want to admit it. I don’t want to be too far away from Mr Jackson, or from Susie, for all her annoying interfering ways.’ Hope thought of how Susie pushing her so hard in Robbie’s direction had almost made her do the opposite. Thank goodness she had gone to that band night!
‘And me?’ said Robbie. They had reached the clearing and he stopped and took hold of both her hands.
They were standing so close that it almost took Hope’s breath away. She wanted to lean in to him, to be closer still. But there were things that had to be said first.
‘I’d like it if we carried on seeing each other, which we could if I stayed nearby. But I don’t want that to be the reason for staying.’
‘Why not?’ Robbie shook the dark, wavy hair back from his face, frowning down at her.
‘It’s hard to explain.’ Hope disengaged her hands and took a step back so she could think clearly. ‘I’ve got to make decisions for myself. If I stay here just because of you – and why should I, we’re hardly even going out – then I’m relying on you to make things all right. And I don’t want that. I want to rely on myself.’
‘We all rely on other people,’ said Robbie gently. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Maybe it’s easier for you. You’re used to all this family thing. I’ve started to think I do have a sense of belonging here in St Ann’s Bridge, but it scares me too.’
Robbie took a deep breath as though trying to hold on to his patience. Hope knew it was going to be like this. He was annoyed with her.
And then he shook his head and said, ‘I’m sure you’ll get used to this family thing, as you call it. I’m not trying to rush you. I’m prepared to wait.’
Hope thought this over and felt irrationally disappointed. He was very easily persuaded. Maybe he didn’t want to be close to her after all?
‘That’s fine then,’ she said brightly. She turned towards the cottage, where Lucy was already snuffling through the fallen leaves. ‘Shall we have a look around?’
Robbie took her hand again, seeming not to notice that she was hurt.
>
She continued brightly, ‘I’ve actually been in touch with the estate and made tentative enquiries about buying it. It would be amazing to live here, if I can be sure I can afford it. Mr Jackson wants to help me buy it, but that’s definitely not on. I’d rather take help from Susie than from him, but I’m not letting her interfere either.’
‘Sounds good to me. If you can manage on your own, go for it. It’s a great wee place.’
He began to talk about the state of the roof and whether some of the trees growing at the back of the house might need to be felled to give more light. It was good he was taking an interest, but surely this wasn’t what he had come to talk to her about? It had been no trouble at all to divert him from personal discussion.
Eventually they found themselves sitting on the old garden bench. It was chilly despite the bright sunshine, and Hope didn’t object when Robbie put an arm around her.
‘I just hope I can afford it,’ she said, biting her lip, trying to concentrate on the house and not on the man beside her. ‘Mortgages aren’t too easy to come by at the moment.’
‘You won’t need a huge mortgage,’ said Robbie easily. ‘I’m sure you won’t have a problem. Of course, if you took in a lodger, that would help your finances no end.’
‘A lodger?’ Hope pulled away a little so she could see his face. He was smiling.
‘Yes, a lodger. I can think of the perfect one. Me.’
‘Robbie!’ Hope didn’t know what to think. Was this a joke? He pulled her close, resting his cheek on her hair. After seeming to back off without any problem, now she suspected he had just been biding his time. She felt simultaneously excited and scared. He wasn’t going to give up so easily.
Family Matters Page 15