‘I only let Mary do it because she came to the Brass Monkey with me.’
‘Under sufferance,’ Mary said, but Isla knew her parents had had a ball doing whatever it was they’d done in the depths of winter on a muddy field with a bunch of bikers.
‘And don’t you go laughing too loudly,’ Joe said pointing over at Bridget. ‘She’ll have you cornered next for the Gran Tan.’
They’d all done nicely on the present front too. Isla had bought Gran a year’s subscription to her Ireland Today magazine. Gran had received a pair of possum lined slippers from Ryan that she was chuffed with and had insisted on wearing about the house ever since, despite the soaring temperatures. Isla had chosen a voucher for a day’s fly fishing excursion for Callum, something he reckoned he’d always wanted to try. He, in turn, had given her a gorgeous pair of silver earrings, and she’d worn them Christmas Day pretending she hadn’t heard her father mutter, ‘shame it wasn’t a ring.’ Yes, she’d forgotten the simple pleasure of sitting around a table laden with food and the wine flowing with those she loved, even if they were all mad as hatters!
The best present ever as far as she was concerned though, had been the review for Nectar. It had appeared in the Christmas edition of Southern Gastronomy as Suzy Carmichael had promised and it had been glowing. Isla had cut it out and framed it. She hung it in pride of place on the café walls, and she and Annie had stood gazing at it, giving themselves a great big pat on the back. Now, feeling the sun warming her limbs she stretched out like Coal did when he was totally chilled which was ninety percent of the time.
Annie and Kris were flying down to Queenstown tomorrow. She hoped they loved every minute of their break away. They’d stayed on at her parents’ in Christchurch so they could take them to the airport. It was an odd feeling knowing the friends she’d come to rely on so much weren’t just around the corner even if it was only for a few days. Gran was pottering about in the kitchen, and the back garden was quiet apart from a resident Tui warbling over by the flax bushes. The day stretched long, and Isla planned on making the most of having absolutely nothing whatsoever to do except eat leftovers. Bliss, she thought picking her book up.
It had been quiet in the café in the days following Boxing Day as Isla had expected, with a few holiday makers calling in each day as they meandered through to their chosen camping spots. By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around, she felt well rested and ready to take on whatever challenges came her way in 2018 Annie was back on board and full of the delights of the alpine town of Queenstown, as was Kris who had taken his life into his hands and done a bungee jump over the Skippers Canyon. Annie had not been keen to follow behind him saying that she wasn’t going to pay good money to be terrified. Isla was with Annie on that one, adrenaline junkie she was not.
She was glad they were all together at the Pit tonight because she’d wanted to bring in the New Year with her wonderful friends and she was having a great night. She had a lot to celebrate; she thought as the countdown began.
Five, four, three, two, one, HAPPY NEW YEAR! The cheer went up, and Callum put his arms around her, kissing her softly on the lips before releasing her with a grin. He was looking a little unfocused, she noticed as she smiled up at him, but his eyes had already moved on. He was heading over in Annie’s and Kris’ direction. It wasn’t that she was counting or anything, but he’d had quite a bit to drink, getting into the spirit of the New Year quite literally by ordering a few tequila slammers in between the beer he’d been tossing down his neck. School was definitely out for summer!
She watched as he shook Kris’ hand. Kris’ other arm was wrapped around Annie, and he looked reluctant to let her go as Callum honed in on her for a hug. He was feeling the love tonight, but he was also going to be feeling very sorry for himself at some point in the next twelve hours, Isla thought, with a fond rueful smile.
Kris smiled over at Isla and, releasing Annie, he opened his arms wide. ‘Kali Xronia – Happy New Year.’
She hugged him back hard. Lovely, lovely Kris; he and Annie were a perfect match. He’d been telling them before the band started, when it was still possible to hold a conversation, that it was a tradition for presents to be exchanged on New Year’s Day not Christmas in Greece. He’d told them how in the village he came from people gathered in the square on New Year’s Eve to do last minute shopping or just to stroll around. It was all sounded so much more family-orientated and civilized.
Isla decided she’d send her mum and dad a text in a minute to wish them a happy new year. They were having a few friends around home for a Hawaiian themed barbeque. Isla had told them both that at least they had the tans to match their leis. Gran had gone to a Hogmanay night at Violet McDougall’s house. She had tutted while she sat in the front room waiting for Margaret to pick her up. ‘She only invited Margaret and me because she’s under pressure from the Scottish Society to find out whether the Hall will still be free for them to use once the renovations are done. Typical Scots but they can go whistle and pay like everybody else is going to have to, Hogmanay or no Hogmanay.’ She’d only drawn breath to add. ‘I hope they don’t do any of that awful haggis tonight and spend the entire night singing Auld Lang Syne.’
Bridget had missed Isla’s smile as she picked up her handbag, keen for the off despite her protesting when she heard Margaret pull up in the driveway and toot.
Isla’s train of thought derailed as she spotted a black singlet man making a beeline towards her, and she blinked. Good grief, was he puckering up? Glancing around their group, she saw everyone was otherwise engaged apart from Ben who was standing a little off to one side. It was him or black singlet man, and she had yet to wish him a happy new year.
‘Happy New Year, Ben,’ she said venturing over.
‘And to you, Isla,’ he said raising his glass. They looked at each other both uncertain as to whether a hug and a cheek-to-cheek kiss were appropriate or not.
Oh, for goodness’ sake, Isla thought. I’ve known him for years; it was one silly kiss. It didn’t mean anything. Even as she awkwardly embraced him and felt his lips graze her cheek, she knew she was lying to herself. The very touch of him was making her stomach do some spectacular somersaults. Her face felt hot and flushed as she broke away from the embrace. ‘You rescued me from been smooched by Mr Hairy Shoulder over there. He’s determined to get a New Year’s kiss in.’ She inclined her head to where he’d diverted his attentions to some other lucky lady.
Ben grinned. ‘Oh well, we couldn’t have that now, could we?’
She met his gaze and wished the gymnastics in her stomach would stop, the band had started, and it was a welcome distraction. Isla recognized the opening beat of the Kiwi classic, Nature by Fourmyula. ‘Oh, I love this song!’
‘Dance?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘You don’t like dancing.’ She bit back the words, ‘besides, I’m not wearing pink.’
‘It’s a new year’s resolution of mine to put myself out of my comfort zone. Come on, or the song will be over.’
Isla looked around for Callum. He was deep in conversation with Saralee, so she followed Ben out onto the dancefloor area. It was barely big enough to swing a cat, let alone break out any radical moves so she should be safe. She knew from past experience that he was a surprisingly good dancer for somebody who claimed not to enjoy it; and she smiled up at him as she got into the swing of the song. She felt happy and carefree as he twirled her around, not caring about the disgruntled looks they got in the cramped space.
The song rolled into another, and another and then the beat agonizingly slowed. Isla saw couples come together on the dancefloor and her eyes locked with Ben’s, but she couldn’t read the expression in them. She knew that she desperately wanted to kiss him. Her body ached with the need to feel his lips on hers. She drew breath and looked down, glad when the song’s slow rhythm that said they should be dancing as one came to a close.
‘Another dance?’
She couldn’t do this, it wa
s torturous and she shook her head raising a smile. ‘No, you wore me out. We should go back and join them.’ She gestured vaguely at the crowd, and as she weaved her way back to where the others were standing, she made her resolution. New Year was a time of fresh starts, and if being near Ben made her knees go weak then it wasn’t fair to keep on seeing Callum. She knew Ben wasn’t available, but no one deserved to play second fiddle. She’d wait until he’d gotten over the hangover he had coming his way before having a chat though, that was only fair.
She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and pulling it out saw a message from Carl. He and David were having a ball at Waikiki Beach, he texted, and he hoped hers was going off with a bang too. She had to smile as she showed the message to Annie. She grinned and produced her phone. Isla saw he’d sent the same sentiment to her and Kris. There was much more chance of theirs going off with a big bang than hers, she thought, glancing around and realizing Callum wasn’t there.
‘Have you seen Callum?’ Isla asked over the music, sliding her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. Annie shook her head, but Kris leant down to be heard and said that he thought he had seen him heading outside. ‘It’s very hot in here, he probably needed some air.’
‘Oh dear, maybe the tequila’s caught up with him. I’d better go and check he’s okay.’ Isla wound her way back past the dancefloor to the entrance, getting her bottom pinched on the way. She swung round but given the three grinning lads, she couldn’t be sure who was responsible so decided to let it go.
The air outside was welcomingly fresh with a light mist descending breaking the humidity of the day. She could see the droplets of moisture in the glow of the lights illuminating the carpark. Moths danced beneath them, and there was a group of guys clustered around a car with a haze of smoke hovering above their heads. Of Callum, there was no sign. He’d probably gone down the side of the pub, she knew he wouldn’t want an audience if he’d thrown up. She set off in that direction and braced herself to be greeted with his retching, hunched form. As she rounded the corner, she spotted him. Only he wasn’t alone, and he certainly wasn’t being sick. He was, Isla comprehended with a shock akin to a slap in the face, snogging the face off Saralee.
Chapter 34
Isla pushed her way back into the pub which felt oppressively hot. Callum trailed in after her, trying to get her to stop and talk to him. The band was packing up as he grabbed her arm. She swung around to square up to him. She could see no sign of Saralee.
‘I’m sorry Isla,’ he said shrugging and swaying slightly. ‘It just happened.’
Isla didn’t know what to do or say. That she felt humiliated was a given, that her heart was not broken she was certain. Still, he could have had the decency to give her the ‘let’s just be friends’ chat instead of sneaking off like a teenager behind her back. Mind you, the phrase pot calling the kettle black sprang to mind as she recalled her transgression with Ben. Poor Ben, she owed it to him to tell him what she’d just seen but then again she couldn’t be sure if her motives were altruistic or selfish. She didn’t want to spoil his night, and wasn’t it up to Saralee to do the right thing and tell him what she’d been up to? A-ha speak of the devil. Isla spotted her walking back into the pub looking red-faced and dishevelled, not at all her usual sweetness and light.
‘I’m so sorry Isla we—it, it just happened.’
It was the second time in the space of one minute she had heard that and this time Isla raised an eyebrow. ‘What, you both just happened to find yourselves loitering down the side of the pub and had to have a snog?’
‘What’s going on?’ Ben came over and clocked the look on Isla’s face. ‘Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ he said holding out a glass for Saralee. She thanked him and took it with a nervous glance over at Isla.
Isla narrowed her eyes to convey the message that it was up to her to tell her boyfriend what she had been outside doing before waving her hand dismissively. ‘I’m going to say goodbye to Annie and Kris, then I’m off. Happy New Year everyone.’ She turned away, leaving a red-faced Callum and Saralee and a bewildered Ben as she scanned the pub for her friends. The crowd was beginning to thin a little now and spying Annie, she headed in that direction. She had a pool cue in hand and was perched on Kris’ knee waiting for the girl bending over the pool table to take her shot. Annie, Isla saw, was yawning. It wouldn’t be long before those two made their way home either.
‘We’re playing doubles,’ Annie offered up spotting her.
‘Hi, listen, I’ve had enough, I’m going to head home.’
The look on Isla’s face didn’t escape Annie. ‘Hey, are you okay? Where’s Callum?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I’m just a bit over tonight that’s all. Callum’s staying on for a bit longer I think. I’ll call you later.’
She gave them both a quick kiss on the cheek and said goodnight, wishing them luck with their game and assuring Annie that she was sorted with the courtesy wagon for a ride home.
It was a sheepish Callum who called to see Isla that first afternoon of the year. She opened the door to find him standing there with a hangdog expression.
‘Sore head?’ she asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘Yep, a doozy and a guilty conscience.’
Isla raised a smile and stepped onto the porch closing the door behind her. ‘Come on, we’ll go and sit in the garden out the back. Gran’s pottering in the kitchen and her ears flap like an elephant’s when she thinks something’s up.’ She led him down the path that followed the side of the house to the backyard to avoid any cross-examination on the way.
They sat down on the bench seat at the bottom of the garden, and Isla waved up at the house to where Gran was standing at the kitchen window. She waved back, before carrying on with whatever it was she doing.
‘I’m sorry Isla, I behaved shockingly last night. I can’t believe I did what I did,’ he croaked.
‘It was this morning actually and do you like her or was it just a kiss because you could?’
He rubbed his temples and winced. ‘God, I wish the Panadol would kick in, and yeah I do like her. I like her a lot. We’ve been spending our lunch breaks together, going for a walk each day.’ He looked at Isla registering the look on her face. ‘But nothing ever happened until last night. I guess how I feel about her just snuck up on me, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I think you’re great Isla, it’s just—’
Isla held up her hand, she’d hashed it all over with Annie over the phone that morning and got how she felt straight in her head. ‘Callum it’s okay, you don’t have to say it. I know what you mean. Our relationship hasn’t exactly been love’s young dream, and I’m not hurt.’
He looked a little taken aback. ‘You’re not?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean I was annoyed with the way you went about things with Saralee, and my pride took a bit of a nosedive. I’m glad you like her though, and it wasn’t just a behind my back pash-fest on your part. If she feels the same way about you though, then the pair of you need to come clean with Ben.’
Callum nodded. ‘Yeah, you’re right. We will.’ Now that was a conversation he was not looking forward to having.
‘Go on. Go home and get some sleep, you look terrible.’ Isla nudged him.
Callum wasn’t about to argue, he’d done what he’d come here to do and that was apologize and clear the air. He got to his feet, and announced his new year’s resolution was to never touch tequila again for as long as he lived.
‘Isla, this is like the control tower of Grand Central station. Saralee is here to see you!’
Her gran’s strident tones called down from the backdoor startling Isla from her cat nap in the sun. The events of the night before were catching up. She rubbed her eyes and called back. ‘Send her down here, Gran, thanks.’
Saralee’s ponytail didn’t swing with its usual jauntiness as she made her way down the back steps and the sloping lawn to where Isla was sitting, shading her eyes with her hand
watching her.
‘Hi, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see, but I wondered if we could have a chat?’ she asked looking uncertain. ‘I want to clear the air.’
‘Good idea,’ Isla said smiling to put her at ease and patting the bench for her to sit down.
By the time Saralee left, with a generous slice of the ginger crunch Bridget had been busy baking, she was feeling much better. Instead of a woman scorned, she had encountered a very zen Isla who’d assured her there were no hard feelings. She hadn’t launched into a tirade, she’d simply asked her if she was keen on Callum to which Saralee had told the truth; she was smitten. She just hadn’t understood it until last night.
‘I came clean with Ben.’
‘Good.’ Poor Ben, Isla thought getting dumped wasn’t a great start to the New Year for him either.
‘To be honest I don’t think he was all that bothered. I mean I still feel awful about the way it happened because you and, well, Ben you’re both so nice.’
Isla smiled and swatted a wasp away. ‘I’ll be fine, Saralee.’
Saralee gave her a tentative smile in return. ‘Ben and I will be much better off as friends or at least I hope we will once he’s over his wounded pride.’
The phone ringing was a timely distraction from peering out the kitchen window at the comings and goings, Bridget decided, wondering what was going on as she answered it.
She sat down at the table a second later and listened to Ian Fowler relay the news that work was underway on the bronze statue recently commissioned by the Barker’s Creek Hall Committee. His assurance that despite the tight time frame, it would be completed in time for the festival was met with a sigh of relief. Things were coming together, Bridget thought as he thanked her for the prompt part-payment of his fee, before hanging up. The hall repairs were nearly finished, and the old girl would stand strong and proud for another hundred years. A jewel in the crown, or rather, field. It had brought a tear to Bridget’s eye the day of the working bee. To see so many townsfolk get involved and get behind the project had been wonderful. All the voluntary labour meant there had been a considerable sum left in the fundraising kitty, even after accounting for the final costings that Saralee had presented her with for the festival itself.
Sweet Home Summer Page 26