Declan seemed relieved and grateful that Elizabeth was so understanding. He was close to his adoptive mother Joan and Elizabeth was right: A wedding without her wouldn’t be the same.
Declan kissed Elizabeth then glanced outside to a helicopter whirring over the hills. Since word had leaked of Declan Thomas’s impending marriage, paparazzi had regularly been stalking him from overhead with their long distance lenses.
“Who’s gonna notify the paps it’s off?” said Declan.
Elizabeth knew they were a source of annoyance to him.
“To hell with the paps. If they want to spend money for nothing that’s their problem.”
“And the village?” asked Declan.
It was a tradition in Kinlochbervie that if anyone got married the whole village was automatically invited whether you wanted them or not. At least one drunken punch-up was guaranteed.
“Don’t worry about that,” replied Elizabeth. “News around here spreads faster than a cold on an airplane. One word in the pub and within twenty-four hours everyone will know.”
“What about Effie and Stevie?” asked Declan.
Elizabeth checked her watch.
“Oh shoot. It’s too late. They’ve left already. Oh well, they’ve been promising to visit. I’ll meet them in Inverness as planned and tell them it’s a vacation rather than a wedding.”
“You’re my dream,” said Declan.
“I’d rather be your fantasy,” said Elizabeth.
He grinned at her wickedly. “You’re certainly that.”
Having had sex twice that morning, Elizabeth wasn’t about to put the pot on the stove without expecting it to boil. She gave Declan a quick hug.
“Down boy. I’m going for a shower.”
CHAPTER TWO
Elizabeth swung her vintage Range Rover into a vacant spot at the Inverness airport. It was a fine May afternoon, the hills and mountains swathed in green. She was glad her friends would get a chance to see Scotland in all its glory.
The last time Elizabeth had seen Effie was at Effie’s wedding in Toronto. Effie had kept her relationship secret so Elizabeth had been surprised to learn that Effie’s partner was a woman. Shortly thereafter Effie and Stevie, a wealthy Upper East Side lawyer, moved to New York where Stevie worked on human rights for the U.N.
Effie and Elizabeth managed to Skype a few times but internet connections in Kinlochbervie were notoriously unreliable. After enduring the frustration of frozen screens and garbled sound they gave up, resorting to the novelty of writing the occasional letter.
Elizabeth was excited to see her best friend in person. It would be a chance for them to catch up, and for her to get to know Stevie better.
Elizabeth peered through the crowd of arrivals looking anxiously for the couple; Stevie, long and lean like a strip of bacon and Effie, shorter and rounder, like an egg. After several minutes, Elizabeth became puzzled. Where were they? The flight from Glasgow to Inverness generally didn’t carry more than a hundred or so passengers and most of them had already disembarked.
“Sweeetie. How are you?”
Elizabeth would recognize those raucous tones anywhere.
She spun around. “Effie?”
No wonder she’d failed to spot her. Effie was half her normal size. She must have lost at least eighty pounds off her five-foot six-inch frame.
“My God Effie. You’re so slim,” cried Elizabeth.
Effie beamed and hugged her friend.
“I think you’re a little heavier. It looks good on you.”
“That’s what babies will do for you.”
“Where are the little rug rats? Did you bring them?” asked Effie looking around.
“No, they’re at home with daddy. You’ll see them soon enough. Where’s Stevie?” asked Elizabeth “ Is she getting the luggage?”
“No,” said Effie firmly. “Stevie is getting the boot.”
It took a few seconds for Effie’s words to sink in.
“What? What do you mean…you’re not telling me it’s over are you?”
“Done. Done. And done,” said Effie.” That woman is a nightmare. I’ve had a lucky escape I can tell you.”
“Oh God Effie, I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be sorry,” said Effie firmly, “I’m not. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“Well you won’t believe this but I’m not getting married,” said Elizabeth.
Effie shrieked. “You’re not? What the hell? Don’t tell me you’ve broken it off too?”
Elizabeth grinned at Effie’s consternation. “Postponed is all. Declan’s Mom is sick and can’t fly. C’mon” she said. “We can talk all the way up in the car. It’s a three hour drive.”
Effie retrieved her luggage from the carousel and followed Elizabeth to the car.
“I can’t believe I’m finally in Scotland,” said Effie. As if on cue, a man wearing a kilt and sporran strode by. Effie hooted.
“Oh my my. Look at that. Is he wearing underwear?”
Laughing at her friend’s exuberance, Elizabeth started the ignition.
“Do you want to go and ask him?” she teased.
Effie waggled an eyebrow. “There might be other ways of finding out.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going back to men,” said Elizabeth.
Effie grinned. “Lets just say I’m keeping an open mind.”
Elizabeth put the car into first gear and headed out of the parking lot. As soon as they negotiated a couple of roundabouts and were on the main road, she settled back in her seat. After an hour heading north, rolling hills gave way to increasingly majestic mountains, beribboned by the occasional waterfall.
“Look,” cried Effie when she spotted her first sheep grazing beside the road.
“Yeah Effie, that’s the equivalent of getting excited over a pigeon in New York.”
Between remarking on the landscape, Effie told Elizabeth the story of her breakup with Stevie.
“It started out well enough,” she said. “We got a beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park. It cost an absolute fortune but Stevie was raking it in, and I was doing okay in the stock market so life was good. Then Stevie started getting on me about my weight,” said Effie. “I knew I had to lose a few pounds so I went along with it. My God. At the end of it she practically had me eating bowls of dust. Then it became all about the clothes. What I should wear. What I shouldn’t wear. Then it became about where I went, who I saw,” said Effie. “That apartment became like a prison and she was the jailer.”
“Oh Effie, how awful for you,” said Elizabeth.
“You’re telling me sister,” said Effie.
“What about the sex?”
“Very hot, for a while,” said Effie. “That woman’s got more dildos that Donald Trump’s got cans of hairspray.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“So then what?”
“I got fed up with it,” said Effie. “Plain and simple. Plus I think I developed an allergy to plastic, or rubber, or whatever the fuck those things are made from.”
“Oh dear,” said Elizabeth.
“Stevie always had to be the one on top,” sighed Effie. “If I tried to do anything or make a move she’d get furious. It was the final straw when she wanted me to go on hormones because I wasn’t getting wet enough. At that point I told her to go fuck herself, which she’s probably doing right now.”
“When did all this happen?”
“Stevie’s bag was packed,” said Effie. “She was ready to leave for the airport. I told her I was going alone.”
“So this just happened?”
“Recent as yesterday,” said Effie. “It’s over. I’m not going back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Effie,” said Elizabeth. “I thought you had a real shot at being happy together.”
“Me too,” said Effie. “But frankly, I feel a huge sense of relief. I was starting to lose my confidence and you know that’s not like me.”
"You’ve always been the mo
st confident person I know.”
“Speaking of confidence, I had an idea on the plane,” said Effie.
“I’m all ears.”
“Well, knowing you as I do…”
“Yes.”
“I figure you must be getting a little bored by now.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Let’s see…high powered businesswoman, used to wheeling and dealing, managing big names in the music business trades it all in for poo-poo and diapers.”
“They’re called nappies here Effie. And what makes you think my life revolves around poo-poo?”
“Hmmn…I’m just saying that I bet part of you misses the old days when you were a big shot.”
Although she didn’t like to admit it, Elizabeth had to concede there was some truth in Effie’s words.
“And what about you Effie? Do you miss being a big shot?”
Effie had founded and run ‘Stylish,’ a hugely successful fashion magazine, before selling it and getting married.
“I do miss being a big shot actually,” said Effie, “I think I might like to be one again.”
“So what do you have in mind?” asked Elizabeth.
“With your background and connections in music and mine in publishing and fashion, I thought we might be able to combine the two and start a new magazine, both print and online.”
The idea caught Elizabeth’s imagination.
“So a magazine that combines music and fashion,” she said thoughtfully.
“Right,” said Effie. “Lots of music stars are starting their own fashion lines.”
“Like Gwen Stefani,” said Elizabeth. “She’s had one for some years now.”
“Hers is called LAMB, and there’s tons of others up and coming.”
“You might be on to something,” said Elizabeth. “But from here? How could I possibly do it from here?”
Effie snorted. “Telecommunications baby. You don’t have to physically be anywhere anymore.”
“But the internet sucks up here.”
Effie shrugged. “As long as it works sometimes it should be doable. Where there’s a will etcetera. Besides, it’ll give you an excuse to get out of Mom-mode and maybe travel a bit from time to time.”
Elizabeth thought back over the last three years she’d spent in the wilds of the Scottish Highlands. She’d sold her talent management agency and traded business meetings for motherhood. She adored domestic life but she had to admit it did occasionally feel routine, plus the winters were long, dark and miserable.
“Do you think we could pull it off Effie?”
“I know so sweetie.”
The two friends drove in silence for a while, each thinking over the possibilities of starting a new venture.
“I’ve got it,” said Elizabeth suddenly.
“What?”
“The name. I’ve got the name for the magazine.”
“What is it?”
Elizabeth glanced at Effie, her eyes shining.
“Rags ‘n’ Beats.”
“Yes Mama. That’s it. You’re a genius.”
Elizabeth and Effie high-fived.
“Auntie Effie’s back,” said Effie laughing. “Fuck the diet. Fuck the dildos. Scotland here I come. Yee haw!”
CHAPTER THREE
The three-hour drive north passed quickly as Elizabeth and Effie chattered excitedly about their new business possibility, then their attention was dramatically diverted. On the final leg of the single-track road leading to the village of Kinlochbervie, Elizabeth suddenly swerved into a lay-by.
“Over there,” she said to Effie pointing. “Look”.
Thirty metres away, set amongst the gorse and grasses; two red stags were engaged in combat. The clash of their antlers clanked together like the sound of pool balls being struck. The heavier set of the two, an older male, appeared to be dominating, tossing his mighty head with fearsome roars. The younger one retreated back then charged, head and horns lowered. Suddenly, the older stag slipped on a rock and lost his footing. He collapsed just in time to cushion the set of antlers rushing square into his belly. Bellowing in pain, he staggered to his feet, a gush of blood and entrails pouring from his body. Effie gasped in horror and hid her face on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“I can’t look,” she cried.
The young stag, not realizing his advantage, locked antlers with his foe, but this time was unable to pull free. He swung his head back and forth, bucking and leaping, barely budging his enemy’s heavier body now succumbing to the twitching throes of death. The victor became more and more frantic to escape but their antlers were firmly locked.
“I’m going to have to call Tattie,” said Elizabeth. “He’ll know what to do.”
“What’s going to happen?” asked Effie in anguish.
“They have to be separated or they’ll both die.”
Tattie, a local farmer built like an anvil, had helped Elizabeth rescue a wayward sheep the previous year. He’d shown interest in Elizabeth at the time but had gone on to marry Bridie Harris, the woman Elizabeth employed to help with the twins.
Bridie answered the phone.
“It’s Elizabeth. Is Tattie about?”
“Aye, he’s just come in fer his tea.”
“Can you ask him to come about a mile down the road towards Durness? Two stags have their antlers caught. One of them’s dead.”
“Right you are,” said Bridie.
Ten minutes later, Tattie’s truck rumbled into view. Sitting on the passenger side was Jimmy Mack, the local scrap merchant.
“Good. He’s brought help,” said Elizabeth.
“What are they going to do?” asked Effie.
“No idea. It’s rare to see something like this.”
“Thank God for that,” said Effie. “I haven’t been here more than three hours and I’ve already seen a fight to the death.”
Tattie swung out of the truck dressed, as usual, in knee-high rubber boots and overalls. Jimmy Mack, a man half Tattie’s size, scrambled out beside him. He was holding a long, odd-shaped device used for sawing branches.
“They’re going to cut the antlers free,” said Elizabeth in awe.
The young stag, tired from his struggle, lay quietly on the heather but as soon as Jimmy and Tattie approached he leapt up and began bucking furiously with renewed strength.
“Easy, easy there fella,” said Tattie. He held out his beefy arms for the saw. “My arms are longer,” he said to Jimmy Mack. “I’ll do it.”
Elizabeth and Effie stood well back as Tattie began the delicate process of sawing the tangled antlers apart. Finally, the young buck reared his head. Freed at last, he stood for a second to stare at his rescuers then turned and bounded across the ground in a series of springing leaps.
“That was amazing,” breathed Effie. “You guys are amazing.”
“We bin called plenty ‘o’ things in our time but I dinna believe amazing was one ‘o’ them.” Jimmy grinned and put out his hand.
“Ahm Jimmy Mack.”
“I’m Elizabeth’s friend, Effie.”
“And ahm Tattie.”
Introductions over, Tattie nodded at the dead stag.
“So wha’dye think Jimmy? Venison stew fer tea?”
“Aye. Go on then,” said Jimmy.
Jimmy Mack produced a hunting knife and a pair of rubber gloves from his overalls. He deftly slashed the animal lengthwise before scooping the steaming innards onto the heather. When the animal was completely eviscerated, Jimmy stood up, managing to wipe a smear of blood across his forehead.
Elizabeth and Effie watched Jimmy work, fascinated and, at the same time, repelled. When he finished the job, Jimmy winked at Effie.
“Fightin o’er the female. All guts or glory. Gets us males into trouble every time.”
Tattie and Jimmy each grabbed an antler and dragged the heavy animal. Despite Jimmy’s diminutive size, he appeared to be equally as strong as Tattie. The beast was soon at the back of Tattie’s truck. Tattie flipp
ed down the tailgate, hauled out a tarpaulin and rolled the body onto it.
“Would you ladies mind givin us a wee hand to lift tha beastie up?” asked Tattie.
“Sure” they answered. Elizabeth and Effie each took a corner of the tarp at the back where the body was lighter.
“On tha count o three” cried Tattie.
Within minutes the dead stag had been loaded.
“I’ll be by later wi some venison for yer tea,” said Jimmy to Elizabeth although he was looking at Effie.
When the two men drove away, Elizabeth said, “I do believe he fancies you Miss Effie.”
“What an extraordinary place this is,” said Effie.
“You don’t know the half of it,” replied Elizabeth, laughing. “If nothing else, this place can be very strange indeed.”
“Like what?” asked Effie intrigued.
“The past is very much alive here. Feuds go on for generations even though nobody can remember what started them. A local fellow claims to see a phantom horse and carriage on the streets when there’s a full moon. Goblins and ghosties abound not to mention tacky lawn ornaments.”
“No kidding,” said Effie as they passed a small croft garden crowded with elves on toadstools.
“There’s a spooky beach here called Sandwood Bay,” continued Elizabeth. “People have seen ghosts, the survivors of shipwrecks. Women in long dresses, crying and struggling through the water carrying children, some of them already drowned, to the shore.”
“Remind me not to go there,” said Effie.
“I don’t think there’s much chance as it’s a four kilometre hike each way.”
“Uh, no chance at all.”
Elizabeth slipped the car smoothly into gear and set off for the last couple of kilometres into Kinlochbervie, and her renovated fisherman’s cottage. She couldn’t wait to tell Declan about her new business venture with Effie.
CHAPTER FOUR
“So what’s the story on Jimmy Mack,” said Effie as she and Elizabeth settled in the cottage with cups of tea.
“What is it you’d like to know exactly?” said Elizabeth, “or maybe I should be asking why you want to know, although I think I can guess.”
Dragonfly of Venus Page 2