by Jenny Colgan
Katie rubbed her hand over her eyes.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Here’s the thing.’
Louise nodded expectantly.
‘How long have you known me?’
‘Eight years?’ said Louise.
‘And during that time, we’ve talked a lot about boys, right?’
Louise nodded heartily.
‘About boys we’ve liked and about boys who’ve been nasty to us?’
Louise nodded.
‘And boys we’ve chased and boys we thought were rubbish?’
‘What’s your point?’
‘Have we ever been liked by two boys at once?’
Louise squealed. ‘Really?’
‘Hmm,’ said Katie.
Louise tried to get her head around it. ‘Two men really fancy you?’
‘I know! I feel like Jennifer Aniston!’
‘Wow,’ said Louise. ‘I don’t even know what kind of advice you’d give for something like that.’
‘I know,’ said Katie. ‘We’re in uncharted waters.’
She reapplied a dark red lipstick she’d found that went exactly with the dress.
Louise looked at her, shaking her head. ‘You seem awfully cool about this.’
‘No, I don’t,’ said Katie. ‘One is a dickhead and one’s
‘Your boss,’ said Louise. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ she said when she saw Katie’s shocked face. ‘What, you think I’m an idiot? He’s a complete hunk and, oh, by the way – you just tried to buy him.’
Katie heaved a sigh. ‘Well then. So, you know, it’s probably best to ignore this whole thing and, you know, just go home, and…’ Her eyes dropped to the floor. ‘It’s just so complicated.’
‘What? Arse bollocks!’ said Louise. ‘This will NEVER happen again! You’ll probably not even have one person in love with you again. You’re completely wearing out your quota right now. This is your last ever chance for love!’
‘Could you stop saying things like that?’
‘No, I mean it. We’re not getting any younger, and you get two blokes. I mean, what are the odds? This must be the end! You’re going to have to choose!’
‘Of course I’m not,’ said Katie, trying to sound convincing. ‘I’ve given up Scottish men for good.’
‘OK,’ said Louise. ‘Hypothetically, if you hadn’t just said something completely crazy…if you had to choose one, which one would you want?’
Katie thought about it. ‘I…I don’t…you know, Iain hurt me really badly.’
Louise nodded.
‘I thought…I mean, I really liked him. But then he just left me flapping about in the wind, and Harry…Harry’s been so…I mean, he drives me crazy half the time, and he’s really moralistic and annoying.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘But…but, there’s something about him…I’d just…I’d just love to know what it’d be like to be with him. Do you know what I mean?’
Louise nodded. ‘God, yes.’
‘I don’t just mean that I want to go to bed with him.’
‘Although you do.’
Katie looked annoyed. ‘Well. Yes. I suppose. Yes.’
‘So, you fancy him?’
‘Yes. But I fancy Iain too. And now, he’s saying he wants…well I don’t know quite what he’s saying. I think I need to talk to him.’
‘He hasn’t turned up to be auctioned yet.’
‘Well, maybe I need to find him.’
By the time they got back to the marquee, it had changed completely. The auction was over, and all the tables had now been moved to the side, and the band had started playing in the corner. There were people everywhere, drinking, talking, reapplying lipstick. A haze of perfume and smoke hung in the air, and the noise was deafening.
‘Blimey,’ said Louise. ‘I guess your party’s a success then.’
‘Hmm,’ said Katie.
There was no sign of either Iain or Harry in the throng. Every so often a giggly woman would be walking along, arm in arm with her toga, looking pleased but proud. Mrs McClockerty could be seen talking intently to Lachlan, whilst keeping a firm eye on the cake.
Katie wandered through the crowds in a dream, scarcely knowing who she was looking for. Louise was hard by her elbow. Suddenly, like the parting of the Red Sea, the ocean of people disappeared all around them. They looked around, twitching, only to find the band were all standing, ready to play, and the band leader was looking at them crossly, isolated in the middle of the dance floor. All around the marquee, couples were lined up like Siamese twin soldiers on parade.
‘Now, we’ll be starting with a Gay Gordons…’ announced the band leader. ‘And a one…two…three…four…’
‘Oh bollocks,’ said Katie. ‘This is the one I know, but I don’t know it on my own.’
‘Quick, scram,’ said Louise, and they made a dive for the side of the floor, fighting their way through a tightly-packed circle that was already huffing into the steps.
‘Aha!’ said two techies, who were standing on the other side, just as they stumbled out.
‘It’s you two! Come dance with us, all these women are nuts.’
‘No they’re not,’ scolded Katie.
‘Aye they are!’ said the shorter of the two. ‘Three of them just held me down and put their hands up my kilt!’
‘Well, that shouldn’t be happening,’ said Katie, disapprovingly.
‘Oh, no, I liked it, ken. It just might be a bit trickier on the dance floor.’
So Katie and Louise let themselves be swept away onto the huge floor, the sound of Dougie’s accordion ringing in their ears.
In some ways, Katie thought, dancing was incredibly good for taking your mind off things, and there was something intensely satisfying about the whole room moving as one. In another way, of course, it was completely strange, as she found herself pressed up against millions of backs, trying to avoid rogue stilettos. The music changed, and she was suddenly in a completely new dance, which involved facing your partner, moving to the side, then moving out to the wall to clap…and when she came back, her partner was no longer there, and she found herself face to face with one of the farm labourers, whose face she recognised.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘Travelling dance, aye?’ he said, enlightening her no further. He was looking very red in the face, as if he was having a completely great time, and he waltzed her around with some energy. ‘You just keep changing partners.’
As, indeed, she did, with every whirl and spin of the music. The men on the inside track moved around with every repeat of the dance. There was barely time to say much more than hello to her partners, attempt to keep up, and try to catch her breath before she was twirled off once more. Many of the men thanked her or wanted a quick word about whichever girl they particularly liked, which was touching, she felt, feeling more a part of this community than she could ever have dreamed, standing on that little railway halt, what felt like a very long time ago.
She found herself nodding as she flew along, the crowd seeming to get hotter and heavier all the time, and the music getting louder and more emphatic; so absorbed that it took a while, when she came back from clapping at the wall, to find herself hand in hand with Iain, who was wearing, oddly, a toga.
‘Hey,’ said Katie, gulping. He looked at her as they took their two steps to the right. ‘Didn’t you go up for auction?’
Iain shrugged. His hair was flopping over his left eye. ‘I thought…I thought about what you said, and I thought, well, maybe I shouldn’t be seeing any other women…you know…’
‘They don’t make you a real slave,’ said Katie, her heart pounding, as they kicked their legs out to either side. The woman next to her caught her ankle. ‘They can’t order you to perform cunnilingus or anything like that.’
Iain looked pale. ‘Please…look, Katie, I’m really sorry I didn’t call you.’
Katie twirled lightly. ‘You should have.’
‘I know.’
The
y twirled the other way.
‘Katie, if I can make this up to you, any way I can…I’d really love to.’ He looked at her imploringly, with those big green eyes.
This was the point at which Katie was supposed to head away and clap at the wall. But somehow she stayed firmly rooted to the spot.
‘Please,’ he said.
He looked so handsome, and so sad, it was all Katie could do not to fall into his arms there and then.
Suddenly she found herself the eye in the storm, standing completely still, as the first of the women behind her in the circle came cascading into her.
‘What the hell!’ shouted the woman, an abnormally tall, brassy blonde, tripping over her. ‘He’s mine next.’ She pointed at Iain.
‘Yeah, bloody move around,’ said the man next in line for Katie, whom she’d never seen before. He had a scaly beard and glasses, like the dad in The Modern Parents.
Iain wasn’t moving either, just staring at her.
‘HEY!’ came another voice down the line, as they found the dance coming to an abrupt halt, spiked heels bumping painfully into ankles all the way down the tent.
‘Yeah, wot the fuck,’ came a London squeal. There were several tuts and grumbles in the air as couples collided and came to a pushing, shoving halt down the room.
‘Excuse me!’ said the blonde rudely, trying to push Katie out of the way. Katie still didn’t – couldn’t – move, and the blonde fell over, exposing the fact that it wasn’t only the men in kilts who were going without underwear that evening. She screamed and grabbed hold of the nearest man – the one with the beard – who promptly tripped over her ankle and pitched headfirst into the crowd.
There was mass screeching, then, as yards of expensive tulle and satin collapsed like a row of dominos, the band stopped playing and it became apparent that two of the women on the floor had started slapping each other.
‘Is that your woman fighting?’ demanded one of the men of another. ‘I’m meant to be dancing with her and she’s fighting?’
‘Whit?’ said the first man. Then he launched a punch.
Within seconds the whole place was in tumult. Too much free drink and hormones in the air had revved everyone up to a dangerously high pitch. The sound of dresses being ripped and glasses being broken resounded through the tent. Mrs McClockerty was being spared her cake-related punishment, as pieces of it were flying willynilly all over the place. A line of techies decided this was the great time to unleash their super surprise, as they all bent over and stuck their specially painted blue arses in the air, wiggling them as the paparazzi went crazy.
Still, Katie was staring at Iain, as, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure struggling to get through the crowds to see what was causing the ruckus. It was Harry. As soon as he saw the two of them, standing quietly on the edge of absolute chaos, seemingly completely unaware, he drew up short in front of them.
‘Katie,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Iain.’
He knew it would end like this, he supposed. Iain was going to get her. Maybe not for very long, but this time was probably different. Certainly looked that way from where he was standing.
‘Harry,’ said Katie. Her face was impossible to read. The three of them stood, motionless, as pandemonium reigned behind them.
‘WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS ALL THIS!!!???’
Amazingly, a super-deep, almost unbelievably loud voice suddenly cut across the dance floor and right through the tent. And, even more startlingly, people shut up and turned to see who was shouting.
A tall, powerfully-built man, in a very expensive-looking suit, was standing in the middle of the dance floor, looking absolutely furious. He had heavy brows that were pulled down over his eyes – very green eyes, Katie noticed. Behind him was a cluster of men, similarly dressed. The room was silent.
‘Dad,’ said Iain, finally.
All eyes focused on the two men. The family resemblance was very noticeable thought Katie, as he drew closer. Same height, same brown hair (although Iain’s father’s was fiercely combed back and cut very short), and definitely the same eyes. She found herself thinking of what Iain would look like when he got older, then shook her head to clear the image.
She looked at Harry. He was staring at Iain’s dad with an expression she’d never seen on him before; he looked furious, but at the same time, lost and a little vulnerable. She wondered if Iain’s dad had been something of a formidable presence when they were younger.
Iain’s dad let off a stream of Gaelic suddenly at Iain, who looked sullen and stared at the floor. Then he turned around to face the room.
‘I came here,’ he shouted, ‘to see if I could talk to you people. Explain how a golf course could only benefit this bloody place.’
There were instantly boos at this around the hall.
‘OH, BE QUIET,’ he boomed. ‘How many of you lot have come up from Glasgow or Edinburgh? Or London? You all say you love the Highlands, but not enough to move up here and build communities and raise your damn families here.’
His voice dropped as he realised people were listening to him. ‘The population’s dropping year on year. Look at you, advertising for women on the television. It’s a disgrace.’
There was a general muttering at this.
‘I’m just trying to put something back into the community, sheesh, ensure it stays a community. I’m just trying to stop you being outnumbered by the bloody sheep, for God’s sake.’
Katie watched him. He seemed genuinely to believe what he was saying. And he seemed to have a point. She looked around the room. People were letting him have his say. Some were even nodding sympathetically.
He looked around the room. The group of men behind his back were looking terribly disapproving.
‘But now I’ve brought some investors to see you…apparently,’ he glanced at the group of men behind him, ‘respectable golf-loving people aren’t going to want to come up here and play, surrounded by rabble like you lot. So, I guess you’ve won. And you can go back to drinking and fighting your way to oblivion on your own. I hope you’re happy.’
There was silence. Katie and Harry looked at each other, aghast and delighted.
Iain’s dad turned round to walk out.
‘Mr Kinross,’ shouted out Harry, his voice ringing loud and clear. Iain’s dad stopped and turned back around. ‘Are you saying you know what’s best for all of us?’
Iain’s dad looked at him closely. ‘Harry Barr? Well,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Well done you. At least you got yourself a proper job, unlike my feckless son over there.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Dad,’ said Iain, looking more like a teenager than a fully grown man.
‘I do have a job,’ said Harry. ‘And that job’s protecting our environment the way we like it. Where do you live, by the way?’
‘That’s not the point,’ said Iain’s dad.
‘I know that’s not the point,’ said Harry. ‘That’s why you’ve been talking complete bullshit. Your only point is money, and I for one could not be more delighted you’re going to take it somewhere else.’
There was a huge cheer at this.
‘Up the arse would be preferable to me, but it’s up to you.’
The investors hurried out of the marquee.
Iain’s dad walked straight up to Harry. They spoke quietly, but Katie was close enough to hear. ‘I cannot believe the six tons of shit you unloaded on us for this,’ said Mr Kinross. ‘I certainly underestimated you.’
‘I had help,’ said Harry. ‘And, actually, I think you overestimated your fucking stupid idea.’
Iain’s dad coughed. ‘Your mother would have been proud,’ he said, quietly.
Harry started, unable to speak.
‘She would have been too,’ came another voice. Iain’s.
‘THREE CHEERS FOR NO GOLF COURSE!’ shouted somebody from the back of the tent, and the place erupted behind them.
Katie watched as the three men gradually came closer together as t
he band picked up their instruments again. Her heart was beating wildly, and she couldn’t help but join in with the cheering and clapping.
Suddenly, a figure darted the length of the dance floor and grabbed Katie around the middle.
‘Katie,’ screeched Olivia.
The men turned to look at them.
‘What? What is it?’ asked Katie, who’d nearly been knocked off her feet.
‘I got a mobile signal!!!’
‘Ehm…’ Katie was conscious of being overheard. ‘Well, that’s great, Olivia. Well done.’
‘No, no, you don’t understand…’
Katie noticed Olivia was holding out the telephone.
‘It’s for you. It’s your sister.’
Chapter Twenty-One
The next hour was absolute chaos. It wasn’t Katie’s sister speaking on the phone; it was her mother. Clara had gone into labour, and was asking for her. She was hysterical, apparently.
‘But I can’t get down there in less than twelve hours!’ said Katie. ‘Tell her to cross her legs or something.’
‘I think this is a pretty impatient baby,’ said her mother. ‘Just try and get here as soon as you can, will you sweet-heart? She’s really crying for you. The hospital aren’t happy with her at all. Her blood pressure’s all over the place.’
‘But it’s midnight!’ said Katie. ‘Nothing’s even running. I’m completely stuck up here!’ She found herself choking back tears.
The three men were listening hard.
‘Shh,’ Olivia was patting her arm, as was Louise, who’d just arrived. ‘We’ll just have to drive through the night, that’s all.’
‘Who’s sober enough to drive?’ sobbed Katie, extending her arm. ‘Everyone’s pissed as farts!’
Iain’s father gave a small cough suddenly. ‘Excuse me miss…’
‘Katie,’ said Katie, sniffing.