Gavin must be about to do something flash. Everybody seems to be watching him - even Birgit has stopped the Teutonic chatter. His circus trick performed, Gavin drops neatly and intentionally to the ground, a feline acrobat. Dave nods. Andy grunts, ‘Nice one,’ the climber’s equivalent of a round of applause.
Simon lowers Birgit to the ground where she makes a song and dance of mopping her armpits and between her breasts with a little towel, watched by all the men except Dave who is coiling rope with Zen-like attention to detail.
Gavin finally catches sight of me. He looks surprised, almost uncomfortable. He approaches, drinking from a bottle of water.
‘Hi... What are you doing here?’
‘Waiting for Megan. She went swimming with Katie. I said I’d meet them here and take them home. I didn’t know you were climbing. I thought you were supposed to be at Dave’s?’
‘We were, then we thought we’d get in a bit of practice.’
‘Oh. Will you be much longer?’
‘We were going for a pint afterwards. Why don’t you come?’
‘I’m taking Megan and Katie home, I told you.’
‘So join us later.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’ll all talk climbing. It’s so boring for me, Gavin. I can’t really join in.’
‘ ’Course you can! We won’t talk climbing all evening anyway.’
‘Yes you will.’
‘Well, I won’t be late.’
‘Yes you will.’
‘Rose...’ He’s beginning to sound annoyed.
Birgit limps over to us and stands next to Gavin rubbing her shoulder. ‘Hello, Rose! And how are you today?’ She is as tall as him, as tanned and as blond. They make a good-looking pair.
‘Fine, thanks, Birgit’.
Gavin looks at her, his head cocked on one side. ‘Was ist los?’
She wrinkles her pretty little nose. ‘Mein Rücken tut weh.’
‘Wo?’
‘Hier.’ Birgit raises her arms and tries to rub her shoulder blades, an action which thrusts her breasts in the general direction of Gavin’s face. He moves behind her and gently but firmly starts to knead the muscles in her shoulders. ‘Simon!’ he calls raucously, ‘Your woman needs some attention!’
‘It looks to me as if she’s getting plenty of that,’ I say in an undertone. ‘See you later, Gavin. Enjoy your evening. Auf wiedersehen, Birgit.’ Birgit beams at me and waves; Gavin scowls.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The silence is not the same. The house is silent but not empty. Megan is downstairs, sleeping, dreaming. I cannot hear or see her but I know she is there and so the silence is not the same.
I stare into the darkness until my eyeballs smart, frightened to fall asleep. In my dreams Gavin returns and I cannot bear the cold daylight pain of waking, realising he is not here, will never be here again.
I think of Calum lying in Gavin's place.
Dark. Thin. So much hair. The back of his neck, pale, almost white, where the sun never penetrates.
Do you know, Gavin? Do you somehow know that I slept with Calum? Are you with me always, in me? Is my skin still the skin you touched, or have those cells all been shed and replaced? Is there any part of me that still bears the imprint of your touch?
My hair. My long hair, longer now, knew your hands.
If I cut it off you will be gone from my body, Gavin, finally. Expunged. Exorcised. The connection will be cut.
Cut...
‘Don’t.’ Calum said ‘Don’t.’ Whisky words mumbled in the rain as he lifted a hand to touch my hair, then didn’t. A connection between us, even though nothing happened. Nothing at all.
~
‘Why don't you, Rose?’
‘Cut my hair?’
‘No. Fuck the poet - what's his name? Calum?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why not? He obviously fancies you. Don’t you fancy him?’
‘I find him attractive, yes.’
‘So?’
‘I can’t. I mean, I don’t want to.’
‘Bullshit! You get wet between the legs just thinking about him.’
‘Damn you, Gavin! How do you know that?’
‘I know you, Rose. Inside out. It never took much to get you going. Bed was fucking marvellous, wasn’t it?.. You must miss all that.’
‘If it was so marvellous why did you—’
‘Don’t let’s go into all that again. I told you - it meant nothing to me.’
‘And everything to me.’
‘Only because you let it, Rose. You don’t fuck with your brain, you do it with your body, for Christ’s sake.’
‘How very convenient! How utterly male to be able to compartmentalise like that. If only I could have done that!’
‘So fuck the Scot, Rose. Go on - you deserve a good time. You’ve bloody earned it. He climbs, doesn’t he? So he’ll be fit... Can you even remember what it feels like, Rose, all that hard muscle? You used to like all that.’
‘Shut up, Gavin.’
‘Do it, Rose. Then tell me all about it.’
‘I won’t need to tell you, Gavin - you’ll be there, watching, you sick bastard!’
‘Yeah, that’s right, I suppose I will... But I won’t know what it’s like for you, Rose, what it’s like inside you. You’ll have to tell me that.’
‘Get out, Gavin! Get out of my mind!’
I sit bolt upright in the bed, drenched with sweat and tears, tears of anger and shame. I weep quietly so as not to wake Megan.
~
Rose sits on the floor of the library in the community school surrounded by books on geology, geography, land formation. Engrossed in note-taking, she doesn't register a large pair of scruffy trainers as they approach, then come to a halt beside her.
‘Some light bedtime reading?’
She looks up, startled. The effort to focus, to re-adjust to her surroundings is palpable. ‘Oh, Calum... Hello! Shouldn’t you be at work?’
‘It's Saturday.’
‘Oh. Yes, I suppose it is. Sorry. One day is much like another to me.’ She notices that he isn’t smiling and says nervously, ‘I’m reading up on geology.’
‘So I see.’
‘There’s a good range of books here. Better than I was expecting.’
‘Aye, ‘a popular topic.’
During the silence that follows Rose feels at a disadvantage as Calum towers over her. Looking up at him she can see the long white scar under his jaw partially masked by the shadow of weekend stubble. She makes another lame attempt at conversation. ‘Are you here choosing books?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve brought the twins. You’ll have noticed an unacceptable rise in the noise level. That’s Duncan and Eilidh engaged in heated literary debate. They were driving Shona mad and Aly was trying to do his homework for once, so I said I’d take them out. Then it started to rain. So we fetched up here. I’m supposed to be reading to them in a moment. Hairy MacLairy from Donaldson’s Dairy, I believe. You’re welcome to join us,’ he adds grimly.
They do not speak for a while. Rose stares at his trainers, notes that the muddy denim hems of his jeans are frayed. Shouts and giggles from the twins punctuate the soft, constant hum of computers. Calum crouches down beside her and opens a book at random, flicking the pages, unseeing.
‘I’ve missed you, Rose.’ She says nothing. ‘I dropped by the other day but you weren’t in. I met Megan.’
‘Yes, I know.’
He looks round the library. ‘Is she here?’
‘No, she’s at home. Probably still in bed. ‘She’s not exactly a morning person... I had a bad night and felt like getting out of the house so I left her a note. I thought I’d do some research.’
There is another long silence. Calum sighs. ‘Is this how you want to play it, Rose?’
‘What do you mean?’
He lowers his voice. ‘Maybe you’ve forgotten, but the last time I saw you we’d just spent the night together. Since then - nothing.
I’m... confused, to say the least.’
‘I did ring - after you left the poems. But there was no answer.’
‘That was days ago.’
‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry. Things have been... difficult since then.’
‘Because of Megan?’
‘Yes, I suppose so. The house is in chaos. She's camping in my work-room and... I’m not sleeping much at nights.’
‘Aye, you look jiggered.’
‘Yes, I am... I’m sorry Calum, but I think I can only deal with one thing at a time. Megan used to call me “a bear of very little brain” and that isn’t even wired up properly. I don't really know how to deal with... all this. Us. And I don’t really want Megan to know how things are between us.’
‘And how are things between us?’
‘On hold, I suppose. Can you put up with that for a couple of weeks?’
‘Oh, aye. I’d just like to know, that’s all. I wondered if you’d had second thoughts. Or if maybe that night had meant nothing to you. It meant something to me.’
‘And to me! I’m sorry I haven’t told you. I somehow thought you would know. You seem pretty good at reading my mind.’
The floor vibrates as two pairs of small sturdy feet pound across the library. The twins, seven years old, dark and bright-eyed like their uncle, cannon into Calum who cries out in mock-pain. Duncan climbs onto his back and Eilidh closes the book in Calum’s hands with a snap.
‘Time for our story!’
‘You promised.’
Calum pulls both children down into his lap. ‘Are you forgetting your manners now? Say hello to Rose.’
The children look up shyly. ‘Hello, Rose.’
‘Hello! You’ve got a lot of nice books there, Duncan.’
‘Aye, we’re going to have a story!’
Calum’s face brightens. ‘Jings! Are you reading to me then, Duncan?’
‘No! You're reading to us!’
The children giggle and Calum groans. ‘Not Hairy MacLairy?’
‘From Donaldson’s Dairy!’ they chant in unison.
‘Okay, go and sit yourselves down on the cushions. I’ll be over in a wee while. I just want to finish talking to Rose.’
‘Five minutes,’ Eilidh says firmly, holding up the fingers of one hand and thrusting them in Calum’s face. The twins run back to the children's section and flop onto large floor cushions. Rose watches them and smiles.
‘I wish I enjoyed my family as much as you appear to enjoy yours.’
‘Being an uncle is a hell of a lot easier than being a parent, you know that. Are you no’ enjoying Megan’s visit then?’
‘It’s that obvious, is it?’
‘Not to her, I'm sure.’
Rose sighs. ‘I don’t cope well with changes in routine. With people really. And things have never been... comfortable between Megan and me.’
‘Aye, she said something to that effect.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Nothing much, just implied that you rub each other up the wrong way. She seems well aware of the difficulties.’
‘You didn’t tell her about us did you?
‘Of course not.’ He shrugs. ‘What’s to tell, anyway?’
‘Ouch.’
He smiles. ‘Am I sounding bitter?’
‘A little.’
‘Put it down to terminal sexual frustration. ‘
‘Megan asked if you had a girlfriend.’
‘Did she now?’
‘You made quite an impression, I think. Another reason it was difficult for me to come clean about our relationship.’
‘Aren’t I a bit old for her?’
‘Aren’t I a bit old for you?’
‘You’re not starting on that tack again!’
‘Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Calum? A man as kind and clever and as attractive as you - it doesn't add up.’
‘I’m a closet gay. I’m just using you as a smokescreen.’
‘Bollocks. Why, Calum? Why has there been no one since Alison?’
‘Who says there hasn’t?’
‘You’ve never talked about anybody.’
‘That’s because I don't like talking about the past.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know,’ he says, getting to his feet, ‘Reading Hairy MacLairy to the twins is beginning to seem like a really attractive proposition.’
Rose grabs his arm and pulls him back down. ‘Why, Calum? What aren’t you telling me?’
‘What aren’t you telling me, Rose?’
‘You don’t trust me, do you?’
He stares at her. ‘No, I don’t believe I do.’
She releases his arm and leans back, blinking. ‘Well... That told me.’
‘I don’t trust you, Rose. Not yet. I like you a lot and I fancy you like hell, but no, I don’t think I trust you. I don’t trust you not to hurt me and despite the capable, all-things-to-all-people, pillar-of-the-community exterior I am in fact as complete a fucking mess as the next man. So for now, if you don’t mind, I’ll keep my own counsel. What you see is what you get. I’m straight, single, solvent and sound of wind and limb. There are no mad women in my attic and, believe it or not, I don’t have to fight off an army of females intent on beating a path to my bedside. I’m flattered that Megan is puzzled by my single status but if she’s thinking of remedying that, tell her she’d be wasting her time. For the moment my attentions are fixed elsewhere.’ He puts a hand behind Rose’s head, pulls her towards him and kisses her hard on her gaping mouth. ‘If you want to see me, give me a call. Otherwise I won’t trouble you again.’
He stands up and wheels round, calling sharply to the twins. ‘Duncan! Eilidh! Choose your books now. We’re going home.’
A wail goes up. ‘Aw, but you promised!’
‘You said you’d read us a story!’
‘Aye, I will. Two stories. At home. Now take your books up to the counter and get them stamped.’ The children run off, mollified.
‘Come to supper, Calum.’
He turns back and looks down at Rose. ‘What?’
‘Come to supper.’
‘When?’
‘Tonight.’
He opens and closes his mouth, trying to frame words, then drags a hand backwards through his hair and says softly, ‘Okay.’
‘But I don’t want Megan to know about us... yet. So you can’t stay over.’
‘I wouldn’t expect to. Especially not after the way I’ve behaved this morning. What time?’
‘Seven o'clock?’
‘Okay.’
‘Calum... I'm making this up as I go along.’
‘Aye, that’s fairly obvious.’
‘You won’t say anything to Megan?’
‘No, I won’t.’
‘Thanks. And thank you for the kiss.’
‘I expected you to slap my face.’
‘No. I was just very surprised.’
‘Pleasantly surprised?’
‘Oh, yes. Very. I think about your mouth all the time.’
‘Do you?’ She nods and smiles. ‘Aye, well my thoughts are a wee bit more wide-ranging... But we won’t go into that now. I promise to behave myself this evening. See you at seven, then.’
~
At the Co-op Rose bumps into Shona who seems more than usually pleased to see her.
‘Och, it’s yourself, Rose! Just the lady I was wanting to speak to!’ Shona draws Rose aside to a chilly alcove beside the frozen foods. ‘I was wanting to ask you - are you completely recovered from the influenza?’
‘Yes thanks, Shona. It was a three day wonder.’
‘That’s good! Only I remember last year poor wee Effie - Angus' wife, you know - was laid very low for some weeks afterwards.’ Shona lowers her voice to a piercing whisper. ‘She was never herself again after that. Then in the summer, of course, she passed on, poor soul.’
‘I don’t think I’m in any immediate danger, Shona. And I understood from Angus that Effie was a good age when she died.�
��
‘Oh, aye - sixty-five - but that's no age at all for these parts!’
‘I know - Tir nan Og.’
Shona beams. ‘Are you learning the Gaelic now?’
‘Calum’s taught me the odd word or two. I really must sign up for a proper class.’
Shona waxes confidential again. ‘Did you know it’s my wee brother’s fortieth birthday next week?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Aye! We're planning a surprise party for him! You’re invited, of course. Megan too, if she’d like to come.’
‘Thank you. What a lovely idea.’
‘Och, no doubt he’ll hate all the fuss, but Donald and I thought everyone could do with a good party. February is a terrible month, the worst of the winter. In December you’ve Christmas and Hogmanay to liven things up and in January you’ve Burns Night, but February!’ Shona pulls a disgusted face. ‘Ach, I’d just as soon sleep through it and wake up on the first of March! So - you’ll come to our wee celebration?’
‘Of course! When’s it to be?’
‘Saturday night. Get there before eight. I’ve invited Calum over for supper. He thinks it’s pizza and birthday cake with the bairns, so you’re not to breathe a word, mind.’
‘No, of course not. Can I help out with the food? I’m not much of a cook but I can make a decent lasagne.’
‘That would be grand, Rose! Calum loves Italian food. Could I leave that sitting in the bottom of the Rayburn?’
‘Yes, it’ll come to no harm. Can I do anything else to help?’
‘Well, I was wanting to ask you a favour.’ Shona hesitates and looks embarrassed.
‘Oh, for goodness sake, Shona - give me a chance to repay some of the kindness you’ve shown me! How can I help?’
‘Well, I was wondering, as you're our nearest neighbour, do you have anywhere we could hide some food and drink? If I have crisps and nibbles lying around the house they’ll get eaten by the bairns, and as for the drink - well, that never seems to last long with Donald, especially when Calum’s around. Those two do enjoy a dram! So I was wondering—’
‘Yes, of course! You can hide the booze in my shed and I can easily make room for extra food in my workroom. I’ve got some space in the freezer too if you want.’
‘Thanks, Rose, that’s a weight off my mind. My only worry now is if Calum turns up to watch football with Aly on Saturday afternoon and we don’t get a chance to set up for the party. I don’t want him there before eight.’
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