by Lisa Hobman
Her stomach flipped with excitement at the prospect of returning to Canada. ‘I don’t really have much in the way of holiday clothing,’ Mallory admitted, feeling rather embarrassed.
‘Well, we can take you shopping when we arrive so just get yourself a few essentials.’
The three women chatted at length about the places they wanted to take Mallory and after a couple of hours they hugged her goodbye so she could pack. Once she was alone again she realised that today was Monday and she was flying on Saturday so she didn’t have long to get organised. She reached her suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and placed it on the bed. The luggage tag was still there from her last trip to Canada and her heart suddenly sank. Last time she was going to meet Sam’s family for the first time – to get to know the people who were responsible for making Sam the wonderful man he was. And now she was going alone. Her lip trembled as she conjured up images of Sam in her mind as she had often done in the past months but it pained her to know that she would be staying in his home without him.
On Tuesday morning, Mallory rose early, showered and dressed. She jumped into her car and set off for Oban. She needed to get some clothes to tide her over until the ladies took her shopping in Kingston.
She went in several shops and managed to purchase jeans, leggings, three new tops and some new undies. She had never really enjoyed shopping, but today was different – she was going on holiday and after everything that had happened lately she decided it might just be what she needed.
She arrived home after six that evening with bags full of new things, feeling quite pleased with herself. Greg was walking down her road towards her, wearing his usual combats, boots and a black fitted tee. She could see through his T-shirt that he was very toned. She broke her eyes away from his abdomen feeling guilty.
‘Hi, matey. You seem to have been busy today.’ He gestured to the bags she was piling up at the side of the car as she removed them from the boot.
‘Yes, I have. I think I’ve bought most of Oban. I only went for essentials,’ she admitted, cringing.
‘Are they for your trip?’ he asked solemnly.
‘Yes, they are.’ She was giddy. ‘Oh by the way, thanks so much for agreeing to have Rubes. Her and Angus will have fun.’ She smiled. ‘You coming in for a coffee?’
‘Aye, why not, as long as I can make it. You can do me a fashion show if you like.’
Mallory felt the heat rise in her cheeks. ‘Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. You’d be bored. I only got jeans and tops. Apart from one dress that I couldn’t resist.’ Mallory took her bags into the house.
Greg followed close behind her. ‘Tell you what, you go put that lot somewhere and try your dress on. Maybe you need a second opinion, eh? I’ll make the coffee. Your coffee’s not as good as mine anyway,’ he teased.
‘Cheeky. Okay, if you’re sure.’ She picked up the bags again.
‘Oh, I’m positive; it’s probably the worst coffee I’ve tasted.’
Mallory smirked but feigned annoyance. ‘I meant about the dress, you cheeky sod.’ She stuck out her tongue at him and carried on up the stairs.
She dropped her bags on her bedroom floor and pulled out the dress that she had simply fallen in love with. Sam would’ve loved it which helped with the purchase.
She stripped down to her underwear and slid into the dress. It was red and swept over the curves of her figure. She wasn’t sure where she was going to wear it, but she loved how it made her feel. She slipped on the black strappy sandals she had bought to go with it and unfastened and fluffed up her hair before making her way down the stairs. She announced her arrival with a loud, ‘Ta daaaaaa!’
Greg turned to look at her but he didn’t speak. He just stared and swallowed hard, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.
Mallory’s shoulders hunched. ‘Oh God, I look ridiculous, don’t I? I knew I shouldn’t have shopped alone. I always make stupid decisions.’ Her hands came around to cover her body as self-consciousness took over.
Greg cleared his throat. ‘Ah, no, no… ah… Mallory… you look… I mean… you’re… um…wow.’
‘Is that a good wow or wow I can’t believe you were so stupid?’
Greg blinked quickly. ‘Erm, I’d say it’s a good wow… definitely good.’ His cheeks flushed and he began walking towards the door. ‘Anyway, I should go. I’ve remembered I need to… ah… goodnight.’ He walked out of the door and closed it behind him.
‘What the—? What just happened?’ she asked Ruby, who simply wagged her tail.
She went upstairs, removed the offending dress and pulled on her jeans, a clean sweater and her boots as she tried to figure out what had been wrong with her friend. Had she offended him with her choice of attire? Did she scare him away with her flab? What the hell? She was due to be on shift with him later so no doubt she would find out then. She just hoped the mood swings weren’t back with a vengeance.
*
When she arrived for her shift, Greg was already there, sitting at the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked upset.
She nudged him. ‘What the hell happened to you earlier?’
‘Mallory, not now, okay?’ He waved her away with his hand.
She poked his arm playfully, hoping to lighten his dark mood. ‘Yes, now. Come on, you daft git, what did I do to scare you away so quick?’
He glared at her. ‘Oh yes, cos the world revolves around you now doesn’t it, eh?’
Ouch. Something really was wrong. ‘That’s unfair, Greg. You said I should show you the dress, so I did. Then you went all Weirdsville and buggered off.’ He didn’t speak. She held her hands up in defeat. ‘Okay, have it your way. I’ll just keep out of your grumpy-arsed way tonight, okay?’
‘No need. I’ve got the rest of the week off so I’m taking off for a while.’
Mallory frowned. ‘Oh… right… I see. So, what am I to do about Ruby for my holiday? Do you know of a boarding kennel seeing as you won’t be around now?’ Filled with annoyance, she crossed her arms over her chest.
‘Don’t fuckin’ worry, I’ll be back by Friday. God forbid I should let you down and disappoint you again, eh?’
She had no clue what the hell was wrong with him but decided to give up. ‘Oh whatever, Greg. I can take her somewhere else.’
‘I said I’d have her and I will. Bring her to mine at five Friday. I’ll be there.’ He stood from his stool, placed the glass with the untouched liquid back on the bar and walked out without another word.
*
After walking home to clear his head, Greg stuffed some clothes in his duffle bag, thankful that he hadn’t drunk any of the whiskey. He decided to leave straight away. He needed to think and to get some distance. Grabbing his small tent from the cupboard under the stairs, he called to Angus.
They climbed into the car and Greg was trying to make sense of the mixture of emotions he was feeling. He started the engine, turned on his CD player and cranked the volume right up to drown out the sound of the raw growling noise of the Land Rover, until ‘Three Libras’ by A Perfect Circle was all that filled his auditory senses. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and pulled away from his house, letting the lyrics resonate deep within him as he drove.
Chapter Nine
Mallory didn’t see or speak to Greg at all for the rest of the week. When Friday came around she was dreading seeing him. She drove to his house with Ruby. With more than a little trepidation, she knocked on his door at five as he had instructed.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Greg who answered. ‘Hello, can I help you?’ A woman, about the same age as Mallory, stood there in front of her. She had long black hair with blue streaks that fell, tied in bunches around her shoulders. Her big blue eyes were lined with thick black kohl and her lips were stained bright red and stood out starkly against her pale skin. She had nose and lip piercings and a tattoo on her left wrist of a series of Celtic symbols. She was Scottish, like Greg.
‘Erm,
is Greg here?’ Mallory asked, a little bemused at the girl’s attire. She was wearing what looked like one of Greg’s T-shirts and little else.
Realisation spread across the woman’s face. ‘Oh yes, sorry. You must be Mallory. I’ve been hearing all about you. And this must be Ruby? Come in, he’s just upstairs.’ Mallory followed her inside. ‘I’m Trina by the way,’ she announced but Mallory didn’t much care.
Greg came down the stairs. He too was almost naked apart from his black jeans hung low on his hips. God, he really was defined. She now saw that he had a tattoo stretching halfway across his toned and muscular chest that she hadn’t seen before. He certainly looked good for thirty-seven. He was smiling as he walked over and slid his arms around Trina’s waist.
‘Oh hi, Mally, have you brought Rubes for me?’ he enquired, all smiles. A complete contrast to the mood he had been in when they last met. So mercurial. Mallory couldn’t help but think it all a little contrived.
‘Erm, yes but if it’s not convenient anymore, Ron said—’
‘No, no, don’t be daft! We’re happy to have her, aren’t we Trina?’ Trina nodded enthusiastically; hanging on Greg’s every word. ‘We’ll take good care of her, don’t you worry. She’ll have great fun with Angus, won’t you girl?’ Ruby wagged her tail excitedly at his voice.
Mallory let go of Ruby’s lead and the little dog ran to Greg. Tears stung the back of Mallory’s eyes and she turned to leave as quickly as she could.
Greg followed, thankfully without Trina in tow. ‘Hey, Mally, are you okay?’ he called after her. ‘She will be fine you know,’ he said reassuringly as she stopped at her car without turning around.
‘I know that. I’m just going to miss her.’ She wasn’t entirely sure that missing Ruby was the reason for her tears.
Greg walked over to her with his feet bare. ‘Look, I wanted to apologise.’ He tilted her chin so that she would look at him. ‘I was an arse, yet again, last time we spoke. I don’t know what was wrong. But I had a few days away and met Trina, she’s nice, eh?’ he enthused.
‘Oh yes, she seems delightful,’ she answered rather sardonically.
‘Aye, I had a lot of thinking to do, but it’s done and I’m over it now.’ He opened his arms as if to show her the evidence. She looked at the tattoo on his chest; it was a series of foreign-looking words. She figured it out to be a Gaelic phrase but had no idea what it said.
‘Good for you.’ She smiled, trying to be genuine.
‘Aye, well there’s no point wanting what you can’t have, eh?’ He smiled, glancing back to the house.
‘No, no point at all,’ she agreed, but wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. ‘I’ll be off then, I’m staying at a hotel near the airport with the Buchanans tonight and then we fly early morning.’
‘Well have a brilliant time, eh? And don’t worry about this place. We’ll all still be here when you get back.’
‘Great… see you in three weeks then.’ She forced another smile and went to climb into her car.
‘Don’t you have a hug for your bestie, eh?’ he chuckled, holding his arms open. Reluctantly she stepped into his arms and accepted his embrace. He was surprisingly warm despite his lack of clothing. He did the thing that men do when they hug; he patted her back roughly – she was clearly ‘one of the guys.’ She pulled away and got into her car.
She glanced up at Greg who now looked confused; his frown creating a crease right between his eyebrows. She waved and drove away. Greg simply stood and watched her leave; one hand raised and the frown ever present.
*
July 2015
The flight was long and she tried to sleep but failed and ended up reaching in to her bag to take her eReader out. Her hand brushed over the small box she had been issued by the crematorium so that she could bring some of Sam’s ashes home to his mom. Once she had handed over the box, Renee clung to her and cried, thanking her for being so understanding and telling her that she was going to plant a tree in the garden beside the one she had planted for her husband. A fitting tribute for a man who had loved nature.
It was good to be back in Canada; back in Sam’s old room where she felt a closeness to him.
Renee had put framed photos of the two of them together around the place. There was a vase on the top of Sam’s dresser that Renee had been filling with fresh flowers every couple of days.
Her first week had been a little emotionally draining. The family had showed her some home movies of Sam and Ryan as kids. She got to see his dad and was surprised how alike they were. Photo album after photo album was piled up on the floor and they sat around thumbing through pictures that Mallory knew Sam would’ve hated her to see. She could imagine him sitting there, hiding behind a cushion as his mom cooed about how handsome her sons were.
She had cried a lot in the bed where she and Sam had made love. At night, she hugged the pillow that Sam slept on and felt sure she could smell him even though the linens were freshly laundered.
She had put Greg and his weird behaviour/midlife crisis out of her mind mostly, apart from the odd brief call to check on Ruby, and had joined in the family outings and meals. It felt good to be surrounded by a real family again. It had been so long and she had missed it.
At the beginning of her second week, Cara had taken Mallory shopping in Kingston. She had bought nearly a whole new wardrobe of clothes and was wondering if her baggage allowance would take it on her journey home.
The day after shopping was a day of art galleries. Mallory was in seventh heaven. There was a Julian Forster original on display and she stood for what felt like forever just staring at it. She and Sam had been to an exhibition of his in Edinburgh once and they had both agreed on how talented he was. Funny that this piece should be in Canada now. At the end of the visit she purchased a beautiful little print of a painting she had fallen for immediately. It was of a couple standing on a pier, looking out to sea whilst they held each other. It kind of reminded her of standing with Sam on the Atlantic Bridge.
That night she went drinking and dancing with Cara, Ryan and a few of their friends. They danced all night and Mallory drank far too many jell-o shots. She even remembered kissing a total stranger and then at the end of the evening she had been a sobbing mess – the worst kind of drunk – and had cried all over Ryan’s shirt, staining it with mascara. All the way home in the cab she had sobbed, apologising to Ryan and Cara over and over for her behaviour and for betraying Sam’s memory. What she failed to realise is that they understood and wanted her to stop feeling guilty already.
The morning after the nightclub Mallory awoke late and was too ill to get up. Her tongue felt like it could be used to carpet the stairs and her head was thumping to a beat of its own making. Renee brought her a tray of breakfast in along with some Advil for her head. She gave Mallory a knowing look and shook her head smiling.
Seeing Renee made Mallory’s eyes well with tears. ‘I’m so sorry, Renee,’ she sobbed, feeling ashamed of her behaviour. She wasn’t sick, although in hindsight being sick would probably have taken the edge off the hangover.
Renee stroked her cheek, ‘Oh darling, we’ve all let our hair down. Even me.’ She winked.
Mallory couldn’t imagine Renee doing jell-o shots and dancing on tables.
Once she had forced down the bacon and maple syrup that Renee had brought her, drunk her coffee and freshened herself in the en-suite bathroom, she made her way downstairs to face the music. They were all sitting around the breakfast bar in the kitchen chatting and drinking coffee.
‘Ah, here’s my English little sis,’ Ryan announced as Mallory appeared in front of them all.
‘Morning everyone. Listen I know what I did last night and I wanted to say—’
Ryan held his hands up as he interrupted her, ‘Mallory. Stop. You have nothing to apologise for. You said sorry around a hundred times last night and you got mascara all over my new shirt.’ He laughed
Mallory’s lip quivered. ‘I… I feel so ashamed.’ She put h
er hands to either side of her face as tears of embarrassment cascaded down her cheeks.
Ryan walked over and hugged her. ‘Hey, c’mon, don’t you cry again. This is a clean shirt. I’m warning you.’ He smiled down at her. ‘You’ve been through so much, honey. We all get it. We know that you can’t be alone forever and we don’t want you to be. That guy last night seemed nice. He gave me his number and asked if I would pass it on. Do you want it?’
‘Oh, no! I can’t believe I kissed him. It was awful. I didn’t even find him attractive. How terrible of me. You must all think I’m such a slut.’
Renee gasped and shook her head. ‘We think nothing of the sort, dear. You couldn’t be more wrong.’ She spoke softly, trying to defuse Mallory’s anguish.
Ryan chuckled. ‘Mallory, will you stop? So you kissed a guy and you didn’t like it – hey didn’t someone write a song about that?’ He chuckled at his lame Katy Perry reference. ‘Next time it may be someone you actually like and that’d be cool,’ he reassured her.
After the family had spent an hour convincing Mallory that they still loved her, in spite of her kissing a total stranger, they convinced her to grab a bag with her bathing suit, sun lotion and a towel. They were taking her to Alwington beach.
It was a beautiful old beach surrounded by large country estates owned by very wealthy people. Luckily, Renee had friends in high places and so they all went along to sunbathe and splash about in the water.
Mallory enjoyed laying there, sunglasses covering her eyes and the sun beating down on her skin.
After she had laid there for a while, someone blocked out the sunlight and she opened her eyes to find Ryan standing beside her. ‘Hey, Mally, are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘My head’s still a bit fuzzy but I’ll live.’
‘Maybe a swim will help?’ He smiled and gestured behind him. ‘C’mon, the water is… ahhh… okay I won’t lie, it’s freezing, but not too bad once you get in. Come on! You know you wanna!’ He ran off to grab Cara and pull her into the water with him. She squealed with delight as he picked her up and spun her around before depositing her into the icy waters of Lake Ontario.