by Jenny Colgan
Chapter Ten
It wasn’t quite warm enough to be sitting outside with your back against an anchor post throwing rocks in the water, but it suited Katie’s mood. Oh God, this whole Scotland thing had been a disaster right from the start. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong…she thought ruefully for a second of Iain. Well, she could probably knock that one on the head too, now that she was going to be six hundred miles down the road.
There didn’t seem much point in going back to the office, because it had a furious Harry in it, and there certainly wasn’t any point in going back to Mrs McClockerty’s as it had a furious Louise in it, and, as a statistical probability, a mildly hacked off Mrs McClockerty.
So Katie had wandered down to the harbour. The town was quiet – everyone was still at the fair. The swell of agitated conversation that had greeted the girls and Harry when they’d left the Portakabin was frightening. Crowds had parted to make a path as they moved through the field, and behind them the noise would start up again, a worried babble. Kennedy had looked at them, shaking his head, his slow bloodhound eyes looking heartbroken. The Laird had stepped forward, but Harry had shaken him off, saying, ‘Can I see you later, Jock?’ with his mouth fixed shut.
He’d made them get in his car, perfunctorily patting Louise on the shoulder, and fondling Francis’s furry neck with the other. He had not even been able to look at Katie, though, huddled in the back. Louise had been pale and staring at the floor, clutching her hands together. Katie had reached out to touch her knee, but Louise had shrugged her hand off.
Harry had stopped the Land-Rover in the middle of town. He cleared his throat. ‘Well, have you any stuff to collect from the office?’
Mutely, Katie had shaken her head.
‘Very well then. We’ll just say goodbye now.’
He hadn’t even stuck out his hand. Francis let out a little whimper. Katie had squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to go back to London and her life there. She wanted to taste Kennedy’s teacakes, and play with Francis and go fishing with Iain and go walking in the woods and…
‘Harry,’ she had said, her voice coming out high-pitched and squeaky. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the microphone.’
‘I know,’ he said harshly. ‘Of course. Who’d have expected a media professional to have the faintest idea about things like that?’
‘But Harry, please. You know I’m right. You know you have to…’
Harry had slapped the steering wheel in frustration. ‘Well, that doesn’t matter now, does it? One hundred per cent of everyone in the town and surrounding villages for ninety miles knows all about it. So it’s all completely out of my control and you’ve got your way after all. Are you sure that’s not what you meant to do?’
‘NO!’ Katie had said desperately. ‘Of course not. Look, it’s been an emotional day.’ She gestured to Louise, who wasn’t even listening, just staring out of the window, ignoring Francis, who was attempting to lick her hand without having to move himself from his comfortable spot on the front seat.
‘It certainly has,’ Harry had said grimly. He opened the car door. Katie reluctantly limped out of the back. Louise followed her like a zombie. Harry hadn’t looked at either of them, not even Louise.
‘Goodbye,’ he said gruffly.
And he had got in the car and driven away. Louise had stormed off, and Katie was left alone.
She stared out to sea. She had headed for the harbour, for want of a better idea, and was now watching the little boats returning in the early afternoon, to get the fresh haul in. They’d been out for ten hours already. There were tougher jobs than hers, to be sure.
But did they feel as bad when they messed up the fish? She supposed so. She heaved a sigh, desperately trying to think of someone to blame this on. But there wasn’t anyone. She’d been so utterly unprofessional in every way; discussing trade secrets with an outsider would have been bad enough, whether or not they’d been broadcast over the tannoy. And calling her boss an idiot in front of the entire town. Her arms, which were wrapped around her legs, squeezed involuntarily with a rush of shame and embarrassment. Oh God, how could she? How could she? She felt like jumping into the bay and drowning, just to stop this infernal mantra going around and around her head.
She tried to think of good advice for when things were going wrong, like considering people worse off than her (but all those people were a long long way from Fairlish, which made her briefly envious and defeated the object of the exercise entirely), people with legs different lengths and peanut allergies and horrible husbands…
But it was no use. It wasn’t making Katie feel any better, not right now when she was failing so dramatically at every other point of her life. Being sacked made her think of being poor, and being friendless, and being single, and being nearly thirty, and being mugged…
Breathing deeply – and realising there was no one else around, just a lonely seagull cawing overhead – she let out a shuddering wail of disappointment, and the tears started to plop sullenly onto the hard stone.
Once she’d started, as is often the way with this kind of thing, she found it very difficult to stop. Feeling alone, useless and helpless, a seriously injured Fiat her only friend left in the world, she let her feelings rip, miserably conscious as she did so that Louise would in all probability be doing exactly the same thing at the other end of town, having found out about her own disappointment in the harshest way possible.
You can’t cry for ever, even when you really want to. It’s not even that easy to cry yourself to sleep, seeing as the horrible upsetting crying part gets in the way of the nice relaxing dreaming-about-something-else part. So, finally her sobs came to a halt. She rubbed her arm across her nose feverishly, making it bright red in the process and getting traces of snot on her arm. At that particular point in time, she didn’t really care. She was going to turn around, pick up her stuff, try and bundle Louise into the car and head for home. Olivia would probably sack her, but she’d find another job, shit, she’d done it before. Just try and chalk it up to life experience.
As she reached up, she realised her legs had gone completely numb. Suddenly, her foot skidded on some seaweed and she watched it, in horrified slow motion, as if it belonged to somebody else, until it was toppling over, and she was falling over with it, and there was nothing else she could do about it and she was heading for the cold grey water…
‘JESUS!’ came a horrified voice, as a hand snatched her jacket. ‘It’s not that bad!’
Stumbling backwards, she found herself in the arms of a terrified-looking Iain.
‘Christ!’ he said.
‘I fell!’ she muttered weakly. She could feel both their hearts beating quickly.
Katie was suddenly very conscious that her eyes had turned into the eyes of a zombie piglet, and her nose was a blood orange. She turned her face away over his sleeve.
‘Are you stalking me again?’
With that, he let her out of his arms. ‘No, actually. Nobody knew where you went. After…’
‘Yes, after I ruined everything for everybody,’ said Katie miserably.
‘No, no,’ said Iain diplomatically. ‘Everyone thought it was funny, really.’
Katie half opened one swollen eye. ‘Really?’
‘Well, not funny as such…more, incredibly shocking and a bit of a surprise that Harry had been keeping stuff from them, but apart from that, basically, yes, quite amusing.’
Katie let out a deep groan. ‘Oh God. I have to leave. Now, actually.’
‘Why do you keep looking at the water when you say that?’
‘No reason. I have to go now.’
‘Here, you’re in no fit state to drive. Your face is all red and swollen up.’
Katie gave up trying to hide her face.
‘Look, come on. At least come and have a cup of tea before you go,’ said Iain. ‘I couldn’t send you down the road in that state.’
‘I’m not going into the teashop,’ sa
id Katie fiercely.
‘What about the Mermaid then? I’m sure Lachlan will make us something.’
Katie shook her head. ‘I don’t want to see anyone ever again.’
Iain took her hand and led her behind a large corrugated packing crate. ‘OK. Stay here.’
She nodded mutely.
‘Do you think you could manage not to leap into the harbour for five seconds?’
‘Suppose.’
‘OK.’
He was back in five minutes, with two huge steaming polystyrene mugs of builders’ tea, full of milk and sugar. It tasted like heaven. Even better, Iain reached into a paper bag and pulled out two square sausage sandwiches, liberally doused in ketchup.
‘I don’t know if you’re hungry…’ he said.
‘Crying for hours always makes me hungry,’ said Katie, grabbing one gratefully.
They crouched down out of sight and munched in silence for a few moments. Katie snuck a sideways glance at him. She couldn’t give two figs for the rest of it, she thought, defiantly, but she was going to miss this one.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘You’ve given me the scoop of my career.’
She turned to face him. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘NO, of course not.’
There was a pause.
‘Well, maybe a little bit.’
She slapped him with her napkin.
‘Och, I’m only kidding,’ said Iain. ‘I don’t mean it like that. What I mean is, this could work out OK, you know?’
Katie emphatically did not know.
Iain shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, if you like…I mean, a golf course. Yeah, it might mean bigger money…and more people buying the paper…and more women and that.’
‘Golf courses don’t let women in,’ said Katie.
‘Oh yeah. Well that’s a good reason against it for starters.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But it really would be awful, you know…all these corporate wankers up here, scaring the horses and giving Mrs McClockerty an aneurysm. Nobody wants those tossers around really; we’re quite happy as we are, you know?’
She nodded.
‘I know you Sex and the City girls think we’re all bumpkins and that, clinging on to some kind of Amish world
‘I don’t think that at all,’ said Katie.
‘You do a bit.’
‘I don’t! I wouldn’t mind a decent cup of coffee now and again, but apart from that…’ She swept her arm around, to where the little pastel houses jostled against the headland, as if keeping out of the wind. Above them, sheep were dotted about on the grass, bent at a slight angle in the wind. A little red post Land-Rover was making its way along the cliff. ‘You know, this had all the makings of being more than just another stupid job for me. And I’ve never had that feeling before.’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking, and you know, the paper could go really big on this. Launch a campaign. Go national even.’ He fidgeted slightly. ‘…if it would help save the town, I mean. But if we were working together…you’ve got lots of contacts, haven’t you? We could really do it. Well, I think so.’
Katie looked into her tea. ‘What about Harry?’
‘I know, it’ll be great!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, it’ll piss him off like nothing on earth, don’t you think?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If I launch the anti-golf course campaign with you. I mean, what the hell did he think he was doing, keeping quiet about it?’
Katie had a brief flashback to Harry standing alone in the forest glade, completely mesmerised by his surroundings, but said nothing.
‘Well, it’s a great idea,’ said Katie, finishing up her now cold tea. ‘But I’m afraid I’m out of a job.’
‘Oh,’ said Iain.
Katie watched an oil tanker move slowly across the horizon.
‘Why do you two hate each other so much anyway?’ she asked, on a whim.
Iain drew back a little. ‘Of course we don’t hate each other.’
‘Really?’ said Katie. ‘Well, your imitation of two men hating each other is certainly pretty impressive.’
Iain sniffed, but clearly didn’t want to say any more. ‘Och, it’s fine.’
Katie found she was suddenly shivering in the breeze. She swallowed hard. She’d been ridiculous to get carried away by this place, and a man she’d just met. There was no point in prolonging the agony.
‘You know…I think I should probably call it a day. Go pack, you know?’
Iain looked at her with his big green eyes. ‘You’re really going to go?’
‘I think so, yes.’
They looked at each other for a bit.
‘I’ll miss you.’
Katie felt a wrench. ‘I’ll miss you too. But I don’t think I can stay here…you know, eating grass and sleeping in a barn.’
He nodded.
‘Maybe you could come see me in London some time.’
‘Isn’t everyone a crook and they charge you a hundred pounds for a pint of heavy and all the cars run you over?’
Katie nodded.
‘And all the women are mental for blokes and wear silver bikinis and that?’
‘Sure, why not?’
She turned to head back up the quayside, her heart heavy.
‘Are there lots of girls like you in London?’ came the soft Highland brogue, no longer jokey.
‘Millions,’ she yelled, from further away.
‘Send us a few more, would you?’ he shouted over the wind.
She smiled, and waved, then turned and walked away.
Louise was nowhere to be seen back at the lodgings. Katie perched on the side of the bed, slowly folding up her clothes. Outside it was now throwing a gale, launching handfuls of rain against the window like rice. She certainly wasn’t going to be driving home this evening.
It had been such a long, dour day. Katie sat on the bed, terrified of going downstairs in case she was confronted by Mrs McClockerty and driven out for humiliating her nephew. She hadn’t called Olivia yet – couldn’t face it. She would give it until tomorrow for her to have worked through the majority of Harry’s rage first.
How could she have let him down like that? Every time she felt sorry for herself, she remembered that it was all her own fault, but that only made it worse somehow. Still, a stubborn little voice in her head insisted that it should have come out; would have come out. But it shouldn’t have been her to have made it happen.
After three hundred and ninety-two hours of hell – or, at about 11.30 – lying awake under the blankets, failing miserably to fall asleep, she heard the door creak open and Louise sneak in.
‘Where have you been?’ Katie whispered. ‘I was worried.’
‘Trying to get pregnant,’ said Louise, grimly.
Katie sat up in bed, and held out her arms, and Louise collapsed into them, crying her eyes out.
‘Shh,’ said Katie. ‘You’ll wake the dragon.’
Spluttering and heaving, the story of where Louise had been for the past few hours came out. Louise wasn’t even aware, hardly, of Katie’s terrible faux pas about the golf course. All she had heard was of the final, horrible extent of Max’s infidelities, and that had blotted everything else out of her head. She had gone for a long walk, which Katie thought might be healthy, until she discovered that she’d walked for as long as it took to get a mobile signal, then had insisted on the whole grim story from Olivia.
‘Thank goodness there isn’t an internet café,’ she growled. ‘He’d have got a mouthful from me. And he still will. I’m going to make him pay. Well, he’s already going to pay – saddled for life with that bitch’s brats.’
Katie winced, but let it go by. OK, Clara was as daft as a headful of melon, but she wasn’t evil. .. just thoughtless, careless . .. and other family traits. She sighed to herself.
‘Oh sweetie.’ She patted Louise. ‘You were doing so w
ell.’
‘No I wasn’t,’ howled Louise. ‘How? How can I have a job, and a life, and years under my belt, and a credit card and still let a man make me feel like this? HOW?’
‘Because you’re human,’ said Katie. ‘Because you’re a person. And a decent person, not a psycho or something.’
‘No, just a slut,’ said Louise.
‘Could we stop using that word? I wish everyone would stop using that word.’
‘But…’
And it came out. After walking for miles in search of a signal, and feeling incredibly tired, she’d come across a friendly and extremely helpful gamekeeper chappie, and they’d talked for a bit and he’d been very sympathetic and invited her back for a swig of whisky in his office and to cut matters short…
‘I shagged a complete stranger in a bothy!’ howled Louise, dribbling all over the damp nylon sheets. ‘And I was on the road back!’
‘You still are,’ said Katie soothingly. ‘I promise, Louise.’
‘I didn’t even know what a bothy was!’
‘There there’ said Katie.
Louise put her head in her hands. ‘Why? Why would I go back to doing that? Why?’
Katie gave her a huge hug. ‘Was he attractive?’
‘He was all right,’ said Louise in a small voice.
‘Yeah?’
‘OK, gorgeous. Really muscly and everything.’
‘And we’re going to forget all about it,’ said Katie.
Louise’s tears had slightly dried up. ‘Well, it wasn’t that bad.’
‘It was a desperate gesture in a terrible time.’
Louise rubbed her eyes. ‘And bothies are very cosy places really. God, I’m so tired. It’s amazing, isn’t it, how knackered you feel when you’ve had a good cry?’
She settled herself down onto the sheets. ‘Can I sleep here tonight again?’
Katie looked at her warily.
‘I’ve had such a terrible, terrible day…well, mostly terrible beyond belief…’
She drifted off almost immediately, while Katie lay there, on another lonely vigil, awake in a quiet attic in the middle of nowhere, trying to figure out her own way home.
Chapter Eleven