Greyfriars House

by Emma Fraser

  ‘You’ll never get a word in edgeways with that lot.’ Jamie’s mother indicated behind her with a nod of her head. ‘They still treat him as if he’s their baby brother and not an inspector in the police force.’

  She was clearly very proud of her only son.

  I was taken through a hall and into a sitting room flooded with light from large bay windows overlooking the sea. My next impression was that a small bomb had been detonated. There were sweaters and handbags, discarded shoes, half-empty glasses, even a scarf hanging from a lampshade as if the owner, looking for a suitable place to hang it and finding nowhere, draped it over the first thing that came to hand. I narrowly missed slipping on a Dinky truck among the other toys scattered across the floor. Suddenly, with a shriek like a passing train, five children hurled in, chasing each other. When they saw their uncle they whooped and ran into his arms. He picked up the youngest, a little boy of around four, and popped him onto his shoulders, while tossing another onto the sofa, where he landed with a squeal and a cloud of dust.

  Messy and haphazard this home might be, but it was suffused with love and laughter. I hung back as an unexpected and almost unrecognisable feeling washed over me. It took me a minute or so to work out what it was – envy – and a terrible, shameful feeling of loneliness.

  But then a glass was shoved in my hand, a chair cleared for me to sit on, and children chased from the room. The four sisters, having found seats, were studying me with unabashed curiosity. Marcia was perched on the arm of Jamie’s chair, her arm draped protectively around his shoulder.

  ‘So, Charlotte,’ Marcia – or was it Becky said. ‘How did you and Jamie meet?’

  I explained about Tiger getting into trouble. ‘I was sitting on the beach, soaked to the skin and he invited me to his place to dry off.’

  ‘Ah, Jamie never could resist a damsel in distress,’ she replied, ruffling his hair.

  ‘Could never resist a good-looking woman,’ Bethany said.

  ‘Girls,’ Jamie growled with an apologetic smile in my direction. ‘Give Charlotte some space to speak.’

  The questions flew thick and fast. Where did I live? What did I do? Did I have brothers or sisters? How did I like Oban? Had I visited before?

  It was almost unnerving being the centre of Jamie’s sisters’ attention. Then lunch was served and thankfully, the conversation became more general and the focus shifted to getting children fed.

  When lunch was over Jamie took me outside, telling his mother he wanted to show me the garden. I suspected he realised I needed a break from his family.

  The sun was a round, bright orb, lighting up the sea so that the water seemed to sparkle. The view was quite spectacular. I asked Jamie whether we could see Kerista from here.

  He pointed to the east and to a speck in the distance. ‘There.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Sorry about that back there. I’d forgotten how intense they can be when they are all together.’

  ‘You have a charming family.’

  In the way fluffy terriers can be charming until they show you their teeth.

  He laughed. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you saw them squabbling. But they stick together and they mean well.’

  ‘They seem very protective of you.’

  A shadow darkened his eyes and he looked at me for a long moment. ‘They are. I was married once. To a friend of Becky’s. My wife, Gillian, died from a subarachnoid haemorrhage when she was twenty-five. We’d only been married for a couple of years.’

  His reply threw me. Whatever I’d expected him to say it hadn’t been this.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ No wonder I’d felt myself warned by the sisters.

  ‘It’s been five years. I haven’t been with anyone since Gillian. Until you. It’s why those Furies in there,’ he cocked his head in the direction of the house, where right enough there were four faces pressed close to the kitchen window staring out at us, ‘gave you the third degree. They’ve tried to set me up countless times but I wasn’t interested. You’re the first woman since Gillian I’ve brought to meet them.’

  A shot of panic ran up my spine. Was I ready for this? Could anyone ever live up to a dead wife? I wished I’d known before I’d slept with him. But would it honestly have made any difference?

  As if sensing my confusion, Jamie touched my cheek. ‘Why don’t we go back inside, say our goodbyes and get the hell out of here.’

  It took a while to extract ourselves and take our leave although Jamie promised to return in a day or two. He didn’t say whether he’d be bringing me and, apart from a couple of sharp looks, no one asked.

  Down at the harbour Jamie turned to me. ‘My place?’

  ‘I should get back to Greyfriars. The aunts are expecting me.’

  It wasn’t exactly the truth, nor was it entirely a lie. Georgina had said only this morning that there was an urgency about finishing her story and I owed it to her to be around to hear it. But that was only part of the reason I said no. His comment about me being the first woman he’d been with since Gillian died had been preying on my mind. What did he expect or want from me? It was all beginning to feel much too fast. Much too soon. I wasn’t sure if I was worried about hurting Jamie or having my own heart broken. All I knew was that I felt anxious and vulnerable.

  He looked disappointed but said nothing, waiting until I was seated before letting the sails out.

  ‘The wind’s picking up,’ he said after we’d left the bay. ‘Do you want to see how fast this little lady can go? I think you may find it as exciting as being in court.’

  ‘Sure.’

  He showed me how to tuck my feet under a strap that ran across the midsection of the boat.

  ‘When I let the sail out the boat will heel. That’s when we need to lean back to balance her. Just do what I do and you’ll be fine.’

  Out at sea, he pulled the sails in, bringing the boat close to the wind. I balanced on the edge of the boat and, following his example, tucked my feet under the straps.

  Soon we were scooting along and as the boat gathered speed we leaned further and further out until we were inches from the waves. I laughed as the wind tore at my hair and made my eyes water.

  It was just us, the wind and the sea. I had to concentrate, remembering what to do when he shouted, releasing my feet and edging forward before, as the boat tacked or jibed, we bounded over to the other side ducking our heads to avoid the boom and repeated the process all over again.

  As we neared Greyfriars he reduced the speed of the boat, bringing it back to an even keel. He drew up next to the pier and hooked the painter over the post and came to help me with my life vest. Once it was off, he lifted his hand and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. ‘What are you so afraid of, Charlotte Friel?’

  I shook my head, completely unable to articulate what I was feeling.

  ‘I’ve pushed things too fast. I’m sorry,’ he said. His breath was warm on my face. Although I wanted nothing more than to lean into him, I took a step back and out of his reach.

  ‘It’s not that. It’s, oh, everything.’ But he was right. I was afraid. Afraid to take the next step. Afraid to let someone else into my life who might, probably would, disrupt it. Afraid to be compared to his dead wife and found lacking. I didn’t want to risk any of that.

  He considered me for a long moment. ‘I know what I want – you. I can’t pretend otherwise. I also know life is too short not to grab happiness when you can. Whatever the risk.’

  His words gave me a jolt. It was the same thing Mum had said to me before she died.

  ‘I believe you want me too,’ Jamie continued. ‘So whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. You know where to find me.’

  I gave him a grateful smile. I might not be ready for anything serious, but neither was I ready to let him go. I waved him off and walked back to the house.

  Once more I found Edith waiting for me at the door.

  ‘We don’t like people coming to the island,’ she said with a frown.

  ‘He
’s gone now,’ I said gently. ‘I won’t invite him to meet you until I know you are happy with it.’ And until I knew how I felt.

  She made no mention of last night so neither did I, but she seemed more agitated than before. She plucked continuously at the necklace around her throat, her thick stockings had a hole above the knee and I couldn’t help noticing there were more stains on her blouse.

  ‘Thank you. Won’t you go through to the library? Georgina is waiting for you.’

  In the library Georgina was staring out of the window. She whirled around to face me.

  ‘Was that your young man?’

  ‘I’m not sure if I’d describe him as my young man exactly. But yes, that was Jamie. Don’t worry I’ve already promised Edith I won’t ask him up to the house. Not until you invite him.’

  She relaxed and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘I think that’s best for now. When I’ve told you everything you need to know, perhaps then you could bring him over? Although we’d have to prepare Edith.’

  ‘He leaves soon to go back to work.’ I couldn’t help the note of despondency in my voice.

  ‘You like him?’

  ‘A great deal.’ Unused to talking about my personal life, I hesitated, but perhaps Georgina was exactly the right person to confide in. ‘He was married before. His wife died suddenly. Five years ago.’

  ‘I see. And the fact he was married before troubles you?’

  ‘Yes. I mean no. I’m not sure. I just know that being with him feels as natural as breathing, as if we were meant to be with each other. It’s like there’s been a hole inside me and he fills it.’ I grimaced. ‘I never thought I’d ever find myself saying something so ridiculously corny.’ I didn’t need other people to make me whole – the only person who could do that was me.

  I pushed my hair from my face. ‘I don’t think I’m myself. I miss Mum.’ And now, to my mortification, I was on the verge of tears.

  ‘You’re still grieving, Charlotte. It’s hardly surprising you don’t know what you feel.’

  ‘So you understand why I can’t be sure of anything? Whether I’ll still feel the same way about anything tomorrow, or in a month, or a year’s time?’

  ‘Loving someone can bring great pain but great joy as well,’ Georgina continued, a wistful expression on her face.

  It was the same thing Mum had said about my father. But I wondered if it were better not to love. Since Mum had died I’d felt fragile and uncertain and I hated feeling that way.

  I leaned forward. ‘I’m used to being on my own. I like it that way. I have a good, fulfilling life.’ I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince – Georgina, or myself.

  Georgina grasped my wrist with sudden urgency. ‘We only have one life, my dear, and so few chances of happiness. Your mother lost her love. I lost mine. As did Edith. Don’t let the same happen to you.’

  ‘You’re talking about Findlay, aren’t you?’

  Georgina paled and there was a long pause.

  ‘It wasn’t just a tipsy kiss, was it?’ I persisted. ‘At least not on your part.’

  ‘No,’ she admitted after a long pause. ‘I probably would never have followed him down to the shore that night if I hadn’t drunk too much champagne, but yes, I did love him. Almost from the moment I set eyes on him.’

  She was silent for a long time. When she started to speak again her eyes had taken on a faraway look.

  ‘That summer I was at home at our house in Edinburgh. I had arrived back from Paris a week earlier and spent a few days in London before taking the train north. Harriet and Peter had gone on to Edinburgh a couple of days before and I could have travelled up with them, should have as it turned out, but I had friends I hadn’t seen for a while with whom I wanted to catch up in London. I’d left Paris under a bit of a cloud. There were rumours – gossip and speculation – about my having an affair with a married man which made me glad to leave.’

  ‘And were you? Having an affair, I mean?’

  ‘On this occasion, as it happens, no. He was being rather silly. Mistook some light-hearted flirtation for something more serious. Told his wife he wanted a divorce so he could marry me. It was total nonsense, but enough people believed it to make life uncomfortable for me. And as I told you, my work as a model had more or less come to an end. Besides, I suspected war was coming and I wanted to come home, see my sisters, spend time with them. If war did come, I knew it might be a very long time before I saw them again.

  ‘Harriet, Peter, Olivia and Edith had already left for Greyfriars by the time I arrived in Edinburgh. My plan was to spend a couple of nights there before joining them. Edith had told me that her beau would be joining us for a week and that she had some exciting news for me – news that she wished to tell me in person.

  ‘I knew it could really only mean one thing. She and her new beau were planning to get married. I was thrilled for her. She hadn’t had a suitor before. Edith could come across as rather straight-laced and that put men off and she, quite justifiably, was fussy. Not only that, she had little opportunity to meet them. As a nurse at the Royal Infirmary she had to live in the nurses’ home and if the ridiculous hours nurses were made to work wasn’t bad enough, they only had one evening off a week and every second or third weekend. Even then there were strict rules about curfews and that sort of thing.

  ‘It didn’t bother her, but it was rather curtailing when it came to romance. Besides, she’d always been dead set against getting married – some nonsense about devoting herself to her nursing career. At that time one had to give it all up if one married.

  ‘There was some mix-up with arrangements. I was getting ready to go to the cinema with friends when Findlay arrived at the house looking for Edith.’

  Georgina’s sigh seemed to come from deep within her.

  ‘I’d heard people talk about love at first sight but I never believed it, not until that moment. As soon as I saw him, it was as if all my senses went on high alert. I’d never ever felt like that before – my body literally hummed. And to feel it for my sister’s soon-to-be fiancé shook me to the core. I should have said I had a prior engagement and sent him on his way, but I didn’t. I cancelled my arrangement with my friends and went to dinner with him instead.

  ‘We talked all the way through dinner. I’d never met anyone quite like him. He was the son of a vicar, would you believe? His mother had died when he was three and he’d been brought up by an aunt before he was sent to boarding school when he was five. His father was given a post abroad and took it, leaving Findlay behind. He was in boarding school until he was eighteen and won a scholarship to Oxford on the back of the fact he was brilliant at rugby. I always think that the Scots should be better at rugby than they are because who else is better used to rolling around in wet mud and claiming to enjoy it.’ She gave a delicious chuckle, all trace of her earlier distress submerged by her memories.

  ‘Of course, there he got in with other rugger sorts and he was invited to their homes at weekends and holidays. You can’t imagine how many country house parties there used to be back then. If one wanted, and knew enough of the right sort of people, one could spend a reasonable chunk of one’s life without having a home of one’s own.

  ‘He wasn’t nearly as well off as his friends but no one cared. Least of all Findlay. Luckily for him he was very good with a pack of cards and by spending a couple of nights every week gambling, he managed to buy the right sort of clothes and furnish himself with enough money so that he could at least pay his way.

  ‘He wasn’t at all embarrassed to tell me this or that everyone knew. He said most of the chaps’ fathers had inherited their wealth without doing a hand’s turn, usually by gambling on this investment or that, and he was no different. He made it a point of honour never to win more than his fellow card players could afford to lose, and he never cheated, but anything else was fair game. I believe he even gambled on bare fist fighting – tried it himself I found out later. Naturally, although he never hid it fro
m anyone, he was discreet around his friends’ mamas and papas. They might not have been so keen to have him as a house guest if they’d known how he spent his spare time.

  ‘He met Edith at one of those weekend house parties. He was immediately drawn to her. Women flocked around him, you see. But not her. She told me later she immediately disapproved of him; he was so sure of himself, so arrogant. It was because she dismissed him so easily that he pursued her at first. But then he fell in love with her. She was everything he thought he wanted in a wife. She could ride and sail along with the best of them and was a wizard at tennis, but most of all he loved her quiet dignity. She made him feel peaceful inside. She made him believe he could be a good man with her by his side – as if he could achieve great things. She was to be his salvation.

  ‘Edith would have made a good vicar’s wife. Findlay told me that first evening that she made him think of his mother – or at least the vision of his mother that he had carried around in his head ever since he was a small boy.