Silver City Girl

by Yvonne Beattie

  As usual, he is smiling, he smiles a lot, and I love that about him already.

  "This is usually how I travel around when I don't want to drive or if I have to concentrate on work. Well, not in a stretch limo, I just thought that would be fun for today. Plus, when I saw the weather, I thought we could still have a picnic, but in here instead, if that is ok with you?" He asks me looking boyish and rather proud of his concocted idea.

  "With me? Oh my gosh, of course! I love it! It's just a surprise, that’s all. I've never been in a limo before," I feel silly admitting that. Though surely I’m not the only person in the world not to ever have been in a limo. I personally think my feeling of embarrassment is solely because I’m in his presence.

  "Well, I'm glad your first time is with me," he has turned to look at me teasingly.

  I laugh rolling my eyes mockingly, "So where are we headed for then?" I ask, deliberately changing the direction of the conversation.

  "Oh, I have no idea. I don't know Aberdeen or its surroundings very well. I'm sure you do though? We can go wherever you like, it's only just after 10am and we have all day, or as long until you have to be home," he replies.

  I look out at the rain and it doesn't look like it's letting up any time soon.

  "Well, why don't we head north? I guess if we are going to be driving around all day, we can look for a nice spot to stop. There are lots of nice little towns and villages along the Highland Tourist Route we could stop and have a look at if the rain goes off, though it doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon," I suggest. “We could even find a nice little cafe for a cuppy of tea!” I laugh at myself even though I’m sure that sounded slightly cringey.

  "Awesome!" He says enthusiastically shaking his head at me. "Norman, you heard the girl, step on it, dude!"

  The driver looks in his rear view mirror and salutes to Jack. He then presses a button and the privacy screen goes up. Wow. I thought those things only happened in the movies. This is very cool.

  I turn and look at Jack and he really is a picture. He is wearing dark blue jeans, a white long sleeved T-shirt and a black North Face body warmer. His stubble has grown and is sitting fashionably against his chiseled jawline. He looks thoroughly edible.

  "So, Ms. Jennifer, would you like a mimosa?" Jack asks, going what I could only describe from movies, as ‘southern’ on me, while grabbing a champagne flute. I don’t know much about differentiating between American accents, but he sounded like a proper cowboy right then.

  I avert my gaze, no doubt caught ogling him again, "A what?" I ask.

  "A mimosa? Some champagne mixed with orange juice? You must have had a mimosa before?" He smiles.

  I raise my eyebrows slightly, "Yes. Indeed I have. We call it Bucks Fizz though. It’s hilarious all the different terms we have for the same thing when we both speak English as our first language.” I look up at him and he is grinning over at me.

  "I know, I love learning about all your words, names, phrases, they are so entertaining."

  "Ditto," I raise my glass to him and we clink glasses. "I'm starting to feel rather cultured!"

  "Cheers, Jennifer. Here is to a wonderful day of picnicking, Scottish style, in the rain," he winks at me and takes a sip of his Bucks Fizz (I am not changing my name for it), but doesn’t take his eyes from mine.

  I wish I could tell what he is thinking about, and more so what he has on his agenda for me, or us.

  "Umm, before we go any further, I just want to ask you about work," I turn my body so I am more comfortable and looking him square on. He mirrors me.

  "Sure, what do you want to know?" He asks.

  "Well, as I'm sure you know, I am doing my internship with SER, and as far as I am aware - and forgive me if I've got the dynamic a bit wrong, I've only been with Geology for a week - but you're my manager Tim's boss, right?"

  He smiles, "I guess you could say that," he replies.

  "Well, I just don't want to screw things up at work. I don't know what this, us," I pause and point between us, "is. If anything, not that I am insinuating that it is anything, of course, I just mean that, well..."

  "Jennifer," he interjects as my mouth starts running off, "stop, it's cool. This," he points between us like I did, "is just us getting to know each other. I told you I wouldn't mention it at work, no one has to know. If we are seen out together, then we can reassess the situation, but I'm not worried about it, so neither should you be. I can assure you however, your internship will not be affected or sacrificed in any way or manner."

  "Ok," I half smile back as I am not entirely sure about that, but I guess I will go with the flow and try to relax, for today anyway.

  "So, let's get to know each other better, huh?" He takes his body warmer off as the car warms up and I see his top has a picture of an orange cow or something with horns. Interesting choice. It is extremely form-fitting and I am now not sure where to look, so I look at my glass. He refills it with orange juice and grabs a basket with a napkin laid over the top of it. He uncovers it and the smell of croissants wafts up.

  "Hungry?" He asks. "I have more food in this vehicle than you would believe, so please dig in."

  I feel my lip turn up as I try not to smile, the croissants are great as I was so nervous this morning I couldn't stomach any breakfast, but what really got me there was the fact he said 'vehicle' which sounded more like 'vee-h-icle'. That 'h' pronunciation is adorable, but I don't want to embarrass him, nor myself, so I swallow my smile and grab a croissant.

  "M'mm, good call, Jack," I look at him while licking my lips and breaking off a piece to drop into my mouth, as he is wiping crumbs from his chin.

  I catch him watching my mouth, but he goofily grins, "Sorry, I look like a three year old with the mess I'm making over here. Guess I didn’t think this fully through."

  I start giggling and look down at myself, my knee is covered in little flakes of croissant, "Looks like we're even."

  He laughs, “Maybe I should’ve googled sexy foods to eat!”

  I burst out laughing while imagining the sort of things that might come up in such a search.

  We get cleaned up a bit as we finish eating, and I readjust my position back to facing him. The seats are so comfortable and snug. I still can't believe I'm being chauffeur driven around, this is crazy.

  "So tell me more about yourself, Jennifer?"

  "There's not much to tell really. I grew up here in Aberdeen, what you see is what you get," I shrug.

  "I don't think that's true at all," he nudges my foot with his. "I think there is a lot more to you than you care to share."

  I feel the obligatory heat flush my cheeks.

  "Well be more specific then, Mr. S.," I feel like I'm getting a bit more confident as he is easy to be around. Maybe if I let my hair down my tell-tale shyness will stop coloring my cheeks.

  "Ooh, Mr. S?" He laughs, "I like it! Well, tell me, what do you prefer to be called? Jennifer, Jen, Jenny - with an ‘i’ or a ‘y’? What do your parents call you? Or your friends?"

  "Well it depends. My close friends call me Jen, or Jenny with a ‘y’, unless I’ve been naughty, then I’m referred to by my Sunday name!” I pause and give him a cheeky smile. Yes, Jack, I can be naughty sometimes. “My dad calls me Jenny-bean, but no one else does," I quickly add, "because as a kid I used to love jelly beans. The nickname stuck. At work it’s all still rather formal as everyone still calls me Jennifer. I don't know anyone that well yet apart from a couple of girls I met in my placement year. We shared a cubicle and kept in touch when I went back to uni. I’ll pretty much answer to anything, unless it’s rude!"

  "Jenny-bean? I like that," he smirks, "we must be a match made in a fairytale. It kind of goes with my name being Jack....and the bean stalk...."

  We both start laughing and can’t stop. It’s such a bad joke, it is good. As soon as one of us catches our breath, the other starts laughing again. I eventually have to grab a napkin and wipe my eyes. I hope my mascara has stayed put.

/>   "So you're a bit of a comedian then, Mr. S?" I ask while sniffing and re-wiping my eyes, trying to stop smiling so widely.

  "Nah, I'm not very funny, I just like to see you smile. That was lame!" He is also trying to stop smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  "Well you're going to have to stop embarrassing me," I nudge him back with my foot, "I'm not used to this sort of thing," I smile.

  "I can't believe you're not already taken, Jen." He says it like a question, not really a statement.

  "Well, that is a very long and boring story, but no, I'm not taken, I have no significant other. What about you? You must have girls flocking after you in Texas?"

  "In Houston? No," he looks down. "I was quite serious with a girl for a while, but it fizzled out. We were high school sweethearts and it dragged on through college when it shouldn't have. I ended it a while ago, and have been single ever since. I date, but I'm picky."

  "You and me both. Though I’d love to say I’ve been dating, but that would be a lie,” I admit.

  “Why?” he is looking at me intently.

  “Ugh, it’s a long story, like I said, but basically I dated a guy for about a year. He was my first proper boyfriend and I thought we were serious, but I walked in on him with another girl. I’ll spare you the details,” I shrug.

  “He’s a fool,” Jack shakes his head and looks angrily out of the window. His response surprises me and I too turn to look out at the road for the first time and see we are headed north on the A96 trunk road that connects Aberdeen to Inverness. I recognize where we are and see signs for a left turning coming up soon onto the A95.

  "Jack, I've got an idea. I know of a beautiful castle not too much farther from here, but do you think Norman would mind me giving him directions? That's if you fancy going to see it?" I ask.

  "Are you kidding me?" He says as he lowers the privacy screen. "I'd love to see a real castle. And of course Norman won’t mind." He turns and looks towards Norman, "Hey, Norm, Jen knows of a wee castle," he turns and looks at me from the corner of his eye, and I smile at his 'wee' reference. "Can you follow her directions?"

  "Of course, sir," Norman replies and looks at me in his rear view mirror. "Lead the way, Ms. Steen," he says, cheerily.

  I give him directions and tell him to watch for signs for Ballindalloch Castle, then turn back to Jack. "It has been absolutely years since I have visited this castle, but I recall it being beautiful. I have lovely memories of it. When I was younger, my parents took us to Aviemore – if you’re outdoorsy, you’d love it up there - and on our drive home we went in past this castle. I remember wishing I was a princess so I could live in it. It was still family owned then, and they actually lived in it. Could you imagine living in a castle? I'm not sure if they still do though. We can go and have a look see if it's still open to the public. We aren't going anywhere in particular anyway, so nothing ventured, nothing gained."

  "It sounds like a great idea," he says and grins happily at me.

  Chapter 11

  We sit back and watch the beautiful rolling hills in their various shapes and sizes and beautiful colours, as we drive through the meandering back roads of the North East of Scotland. The rain seems to be tapering off slightly. It doesn't take us long to get there, and Norman soon turns the car into the stately drive. We drive slowly for a further fifteen minutes or so, along the meandering single track road. We don't meet anything or anyone along the way, which is probably just as well seeing as this car is so big I don't know how we could pass anything on this tiny road. Eventually we pass some beautiful rose gardens and then come to a guard house with locked gates, but there is no sign of the castle yet. If I remember correctly it is well hidden behind all the beautiful foliage. There is a large sign posted by the gates, but we are too far away to read it from the car.

  "I'll hop out and read what it says, hold on," Jack opens his car door and jogs over to the sign. He stretches his arms up as he is reading it and his t-shirt rises up slightly to show a glimpse of his toned waist line. I can’t help but imagine my hands running over his smooth skin, around his waist then slowly over his back, trailing kisses up to his broad shoulders, running my fingers through his short dark hair. I sigh lightly, enjoying the view, but am then abruptly awoken out of my daydream and sit up straighter than an arrow as Norman clears his throat and I realise he is watching me ogling Jack with my head tilted to the side smiling secretly to myself.

  Oops. I forgot about him.

  I clear my own throat, only a tiny bit embarrassed, wipe some non-existent lint off my jeans, and climb out of the limo. The rain has gone off but it is still wet and the air is damp. I walk over to Jack who is having a look around. It feels good to stretch my legs, we've been driving for over two hours, though it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. It's cool but surprisingly not unpleasant.

  "That's disappointing, it's seasonal," he says, gesturing to the sign with his foot. "It's only open from Easter until the end of September, so we've missed it by a week or so."

  "Ah, that’s a shame, I didn't realise, sorry. It's so beautiful too, I wish you could have seen it," I reply, disappointedly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he shrugs smiling. “We can go find a ‘wee tea shop’ like you suggested earlier,” he nudges me gently with his elbow.

  “Not quite the same as a castle, but the tea is good here!” I say, lightly kicking the gravel and trying not to look too happy. I simply can’t remove the smile from my face.

  Just as we are turning around to head back to the car, a large golden Labrador bounds over to us, and I instinctively shriek like a girl and bolt backwards behind Jack shoving him in front of me. I hate dogs.

  Jack laughs at me putting an arm behind him to protect or comfort me, I’m not sure. Hopefully one of the above.

  "Hey, girl," he greets the dog then bends over ruffling her ears. The dog ducks its head with pleasure as Jack talks to it and then rubs its tummy as it rolls over.

  Who knew? He’s the dog whisperer. I wish I was the damned dog.

  "She winna touch ye lass, she's a friendly wee doggie is oor Abbie," an older man walks towards us wearing wellies and looks every part the woodsman. "How can I help ye?" he looks at us both enquiringly.

  "Hey there,” Jack stands up to talk to the man. “We were just out for a drive in the car and Jennifer here said this is a great castle to come visit, but she didn't know it was seasonal," he explains.

  "I haven't been here since I was a little girl, and when I saw some signs I recalled it was around here," I add, peaking out from behind Jack.

  "Och, we jist closed up fer the winter season a fortnight ago, but if ye dina let on tae others, I'll bring ye in fer a wee gander at oor beautiful castle grounds," says the man. "I cana tak ye inside as the owners hae visitors this weekend, but I'm the head gardener, so I can show ye the grounds fer a wee whiley." He opens the gate and the dog runs through, evidently home as she disappears round a corner. Thank the lord.

  "That would be fantastic," I say, and smile at Jack excitedly. “We can look around the grounds!”

  "Awesome! Let me just tell our driver," Jack runs back and tells Norman the plan.

  I start following the man through the gate and I hear Jack run up behind me, he puts his arm around my shoulders and hugs me lightly. It feels oddly normal, and very nice. I automatically hug into his side and he whispers, "A fortnight? I feel like I'm living a Shakespeare play. That means two weeks, right?"

  I laugh and tickle his side a little, "Yes! Stick with me mate, you never know what you'll learn," I joke, but hope he does actually stick with me for longer than today.

  He hugs me closer. "Oh sweet Jen, I intend to," he says, and kisses the top of my head, before letting me go and draping Susie's jacket over my shoulders. I'm thankful as I realise it is actually quite cold out, though that kiss to my head caught me off guard. I definitely feel like I've known Jack so much longer than a couple of days. I also would have foregone the jacket to be cuddled by him longer. It’s
become a physical impossibility for me to wipe the smile from my face.

  The Gardener turns around and waits for us to catch him up. "Right, a h’ve tae be hame soon as my granddaughter is comin' tae see mi and mi lovely wife. Ma name is Gordon though and should onybidy stop ye, just tell 'em I said yer a'right. Ye can wander the grounds, and I'll let the housekeeper ken yer 'ere. Just dina bide too lang though, the fog is sittin' on them hills an' a wid be worryin' aboot ye drivin' aboot later on. Those roads are muckle dangerous, ye 'ear."

  I look up at Jack and he looks like he's seen a ghost quite frankly. So I step in, "Thank you so much Gordon," I say. "We will just have a short wonder around your beautifully kept gardens and we will be on our way back into Aberdeen soon. We just came up for the day as Jack hasn't seen many of the Scottish sights, he's from the U.S."

  "It's affa nice tae meet ye, quine," he smiles, then he waves and starts walking away, the gravel crunching under his feet. "Ahl hopefully see ye next year fan we open tae the public again. Enjoy yer stay in Bonnie Scotland, son."

  I lightly elbow Jack in the side prompting him to answer Gordon. "Thanks!" Jack shouts after him, then he turns to look at me. "I'm real sorry, Jen, I didn't have a clue what he was harping on about."

  I laugh and pull him along the gravel. "Don't be silly," I say. "You've nothing to apologise for, he has a really strong Doric accent, you were not in for even a slight chance of understanding him."

  "What is Doric?" He asks taking my hand.

  "It's our local dialect, you don't get it all over Scotland, just in the North East. I think Gordon might be from Peterhead originally, he has a really strong accent. I understand it as my grandparents talked it all the time," I explain.

  "Why don't you speak it too?" he asks.

  "Good question, I'm not sure. We were always told to ‘speak properly’ as kids, 'properly' as in the Queen’s English. I guess I could speak Doric, but I just don't, it would feel weird. Some of my everyday words are Doric, come to think of it, but nothing like Gordon's. I bet I would barely understand a word of what he and his wife say to each other."