by Jenny Colgan
‘Hmm, yes. Well, I don’t know if I can be of assistance, but I understand it’s something of an emergency…’
Katie nodded.
‘Well, I do have a helicopter standing by for Inverness.’
‘Oh,’ said Katie, looking up at him, feeling a spark of hope.
‘Is it a big chopper?’ came a voice. They all turned around.
‘Hi, I’m Ewan McGregor,’ came the famous voice. ‘I hear from Olivia here you’ve got a bit of a problem, and, well, I’ve got a plane on standby at Inverness, so, please – be my guest.’
Katie’s eyes opened wide. ‘You don’t mean it?’
‘Consider it my donation. Or, at least, the production studio’s. It can come back and get me later; I just want the bloody dancing to start up again.’
‘Oh, thanks…’ said Katie, unable to express her gratitude to the men. ‘Thank you so, so much.’
‘Not at all,’ said the film star. ‘Thanks for an excellent party. Usually these things are complete crap.’ And he disappeared back into the throng.
‘Well, we’d better be going,’ said Iain’s dad. ‘These babies…’ he glanced at Iain. ‘They don’t wait around.’
Katie held on to Olivia and Louise as they left, sweeping past Iain, Harry and the rest of the room.
‘Shall we pick your stuff up?’ asked Olivia.
‘No time,’ said Katie.
‘Well, I mean, who knows…you might never come back here again.’
Katie allowed herself one smile through her terrible anxiety.
‘Oh. You never know.’
Louise and Katie had never been in a helicopter before, and couldn’t help being excited, as they took off into the even now not quite pitch-dark night; the castle and the marquee becoming a more faded point of light below them, surrounded by the huge and ongoing woods that engulfed the rest of the countryside.
‘It’s so beautiful here,’ said Louise sadly.
Iain’s dad, who was sitting in the row behind them, sniffed thoughtfully. Katie reckoned she ought to say something to him, but couldn’t imagine what.
‘Thanks,’ she said again. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘No trouble,’ he said. Then he looked at her. ‘Were you the girl my son talked about?’
‘Um, I don’t know,’ said Katie, swallowing hard.
‘Works for that Barr chap.’
‘Yes,’ said Katie.
‘It was a bad business that,’ said Iain’s dad. ‘When Harry’s mum was so ill, you know…I didn’t think Iain needed to see another boy go through life without a mother, after his own mum left…kept them apart. Then, when I saw how stupid an idea it was, he was just too scared to go. Thought he might catch something, or whatever. He’s just…a wee bit weak. That’s all.’
Katie nodded.
‘Well,’ said Iain’s dad, heaving a sigh. ‘It was nothing to do with my company you know. It was just a sad thing that happened. Publicity and rumours can be a pernicious thing. Though I guess you’d know a bit about that.’
Katie nodded again.
Mr Kinross sighed. ‘He’s a good lad, you know.’
Katie stared out of the window at the stars. They were nearing the town.
‘Good luck with your sister,’ said Iain’s dad, gruffly patting her on the shoulder.
The private plane was something else. Although they were concerned about Clara, they couldn’t help exclaiming as they were whisked through a side door at the airport and straight onto the runway. Louise even stopped and posed at the top of the stairs, waving to imagined crowds of fans.
‘Oh, this is the life,’ said Louise, when she saw the huge upholstered seats and carpeted cabin.
‘Have you never been on a private plane before?’ said Olivia.
‘SHUT UP OLIVIA!’ the two girls shouted.
They ordered cocoas from the stunningly beautiful hostess, who was managing to conceal extremely well her disappointment at the fact that they were just three girls and not, say, an international movie star.
Katie took her drink and stared blankly out of the window. From her reflection she could see she had mascara all down her face; from all that exertion while she was dancing, no doubt. She felt in her handbag for a tissue. Her hand came across a crumpled piece of paper. As she drew it out, she realised it was a sheet from today’s paper, that Iain had given her. It was the leader page. As she spread it out, she stared at it, trying to work out why. Her tired eyes itched, and then, suddenly, she got it.
Don’t mistake it for a moment. Every hundred years or so, an event comes along that defines a town, for ever. And this is ours. Reading between the lines, this is not just a party for us. Kind of, more the start of a whole new age. Attracting a new profile for the town. Today, Fairlish – tomorrow, the world? It’s certainly a chance to put ourselves on the map. Even if we’re not all sure we want so much change.
It was her name she spotted first, all those capital letters, beginning with K. Grabbing a pen from out of her bag, she scribbled down the first letter of each sentence.
I say, yes we do. Maybe some people will see change as difficult, as new to this town. I think we should embrace it with all our hearts. Some people say our little home is all right as it is. Sod them, say I! Yes, Fairlish is changing, but it’s still our place in the world, and letting other people in to share it can only be a good thing. Often in this life, people don’t act in time, or act at all, to do the right thing. Until now – and our time is now.
As the plane soared over the dark world she clutched the piece of paper to her tightly.
Although it was stupid o’clock in the morning, the maternity wing of St Thomas’s Hospital was buzzing; however, they were definitely the only girls in ball dresses. Katie and the girls ran down the halls searching for the labour wing. A friendly nurse directed them the right way, and Katie burst into the suite, her heart in her throat.
Clara was lying in bed, looking sweaty and wide-eyed. Their mother was sitting calmly right beside her.
‘WHAT! WHAT’S GOING ON! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?’ yelled Katie, her fear and exhaustion pouring out of her.
Clara’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Oh, wow, Katie,’ she said in a dreamy voice. ‘How did you get here so fast?’
‘My goodness,’ said their mother, getting up. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘THANKS FOR COMING!?’ shouted Katie. ‘I heard there were death-defying nightmares going on down here.’
Clara thought for a moment. ‘Oh yes. Well, I was a bit frightened when it all kicked off, you know.’
‘Maybe we called you too soon,’ said their mum.
‘I’m only having a baby, I’m not dying,’ said Clara. ‘Aaah.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ said Katie. ‘Where is it? Where’s your baby?’
‘Still inside,’ said Clara. ‘But I’ve had the epidural now. It was great. Lovely in fact. Contraction due any second now…’
A midwife bundled in. ‘Come on with you there,’ she said, peering up between Clara’s legs.
‘That was a lovely epidural,’ said Clara, dreamily.
‘We had to stop you screaming somehow, love, it was waking the other patients.’
She felt around. ‘OK, now, you’re going to push really hard.’
Clara shut her eyes. Katie took one hand and her mother took the other.
‘Come on, now, just push…that’s right…OK, I can see the head now.’
The other two girls immediately ran down to the other end for a look.
‘Oh my God!’ said Louise.
‘Is it gross?’ said Clara.
Katie desperately wanted to head down there too, but Clara was holding her hand so tightly she wouldn’t get away without amputation.
‘Oh my God, it’s coming out!’ said Louise. She turned to Olivia. ‘I can’t believe I’m watching Max’s baby being born.’
‘You’re brilliant,’ said Olivia.
‘I know,’ said Louise.
The door flew open.
> ‘Am I missing it? I can’t believe you’ve stopped screaming.’
It was Max.
Louise took a step back.
‘Hello Max.’
He looked slim, tanned and very very drawn, and as if he’d just seen a ghost.
‘Louise,’ he said.
‘You’re missing it!’ yelled Clara.
Louise stood aside as the midwife ushered him to where the baby was coming out. It landed in his arms, making something of a slithery sound, covered in red goo. Olivia jumped back, in case it splashed on her outfit. The baby opened its tiny scrunched-up mouth and started to scream.
‘Oh my God,’ Max kept saying. ‘Oh my God.’
‘Would you like to cut the cord?’ the midwife asked him.
‘God, no,’ he said, handing the baby over. ‘I’d faint. Oh God – it’s a little girl.’
‘Just what we need,’ said Olivia, until Louise nudged her.
Katie couldn’t speak at all, she couldn’t stop crying.
‘Oh goodness,’ said Clara, like a big sigh. The midwife took the baby, still bawling, and wiped her down, then handed her to her mother and went back down to the business end to poke around some more.
‘Oh my goodness,’ said Clara again, as they all crowded around. ‘Oh my goodness.’
‘She looks just like you as a baby,’ said their mother, who was absolutely tearful.
‘She looks just like a baby,’ said Louise. ‘A perfect baby.’
Katie was too busy admiring the exquisite little fingers and toes. ‘I can’t believe…there’s one more person in this room. How did that just happen?’ she asked.
Clara looked at her with an exhausted smile. ‘Thanks, sis.’
‘You looked like you were doing all right,’ said Katie, taking her hand again.
‘I mean, thanks for looking after me.’
Katie thought of the small flat again. Well, look, their mother was here, and she would share in it, wouldn’t she? It wouldn’t be so bad. She needed to get back to real life, away from Brigadoon, with its complications, and…she looked at the baby, who looked as exhausted as her mother. She yawned, a tiny little cub yawn, and Katie’s heart melted. Well, there would be love.
‘That’s no problem,’ she said, squeezing Clara’s shoulder. ‘That will never be a problem.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Clara, unable to take her eyes off her tiny daughter. ‘No, I don’t mean that. Um, we’re going home with Max.’
Max moved up and put his arms around her shoulders. ‘Uh, yes,’ he said, deliberately not looking at Louise. ‘I think it’s time to face up to my responsibilities.’
‘Well, that sounds romantic,’ said Louise. Then she stopped herself. Fortunately Clara hadn’t heard her anyway, being completely caught up in every first flicker of her daughter’s face. ‘Sorry,’ Louise said. ‘I mean, congratulations.’
Max looked at Louise then. It was a long look. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It just…life…I didn’t know what I wanted, and…’
Louise moved forward and stood in front of him. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, although by the look on Max’s face, he wasn’t sure if it was all right at all. ‘Honestly,’ she continued. ‘I don’t think we were right. Not really. It couldn’t have been.’
Max looked taken aback by this new calm Louise, who was no longer phoning him drunk at three o’clock in the morning to enunciate to ten decimal places exactly how much of a wanker he was.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I’m moving.’
‘You’re what?’ said Katie, starting.
Louise smiled. ‘I…well, last night Craig the Vet and I got to talking.’
‘I knew it!’ said Katie.
‘And, erm,’ Louise was actually blushing. ‘I think I’m going to, er, maybe give up my job.’
‘You did that ages ago,’ said Olivia. ‘Trust me.’
‘And, maybe go help him out for a bit.’
‘Help him out how?’ asked Katie.
‘You know, receptionist, assistant, that kind of thing.’
‘Sexual plaything?’
Louise smiled. ‘I wouldn’t want to talk about any of that in the presence of a baby, thanks.’
Max looked gobsmacked. ‘You’re moving to the country?’
Louise nodded.
‘I always wanted to move to the country,’ said Max.
‘Ahem!’ said Clara, loudly. ‘I’ve decided on a name.’
Clara had made a huge point of not knowing what to call her baby until she saw its face.
They crowded around.
‘Please, not after a fruit,’ begged Katie. ‘Anything but that.’
Clara shook her head imperiously. ‘This baby’s name is…Glastonbury Romany Watson Evans.’
Max’s face dropped, until he could muster a forced smile.
It was seven a.m. Time for home. Katie said goodbye to everyone, with promises to meet up at Clara and Max’s the next day – their mother was staying there to help with feeding (Max, not the baby).
Louise, full of nervous excitement, was going home to pack. Olivia was going to work; she had a big story on her hands.
Katie walked across Waterloo Bridge alone. At that time in the morning, the city was just waking up. It was going to be another beautiful day. The great river was already shivering with early morning sunshine, and she didn’t even care that early commuters were staring at her in her dress. To imagine, this was the first ever day in history with Glastonbury – oh God, Katie wondered if she’d settle for Toni – in it. She opened a bottle of Perrier water she’d picked up in the hospital and stared dreamily out onto the water.
She didn’t want to go home. To her empty, silent home. Even having Clara still in it would feel a bit better than nothing at all, she thought. She wondered if there was anything in the fridge. All her summer clothes were still in drawers she supposed. A coal barge passed underneath the bridge, and the man on the deck waved to her. She waved back. She was home. It was stupid to think she could choose between two men. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened to her. And what was she going to do? Do a Louise and kick it in and move? It was dumb. The whole thing was dumb. That damn place had cast a spell on her that, in the bright light of the morning, just didn’t stack up.
If she took it in little steps, she supposed, it would be all right. First, the clothes. Get changed. Maybe have a long bath. Yes, a bath would definitely be a good plan right about now. And a nap. A long nap, on clean sheets, in a flat with nobody else in it. Then she would go and see her sister, and her niece – wow, she was an auntie. One thing at a time. Being an aunt felt like a terribly old thing to be. And then the day after that, she would go back to work, just as she had done before, and she would pick up another account and work hard and hope to meet a nice stockbroker and everything would be absolutely fine, and eventually time would go on and she would think about Scotland as if it were only a dream, a silly interlude in her life, when all the boys liked her and she had…well, it had had its ups and downs, but she had had fun. And she could go up and visit. She’d need to get her car at some point, and of course she’d have to visit Louise. And maybe while she was there she could see the others…and remember one evening when anything could have happened. And try never to think about what she could have done.
A car screeched to a halt right behind her, but she ignored it. The traffic had been building up steadily since she’d been walking. There wasn’t a rush hour in London any more; it was all the same. She didn’t bother turning around. She knew once she turned around, the spell would be broken and she’d have to go home and start the rest of her life.
‘Katie,’ yelled a voice.
Katie blinked and turned around, gradually.
There, on the other side of the road, was a man doing his best to dodge through the traffic towards her.
‘What…what are you doing here?’ Katie asked.
Mind you, she said this only after she had literally thrown herself from the side of the bridge int
o his arms, and he’d held her for a long time, and she’d said, over and over again, ‘It was always you, and I didn’t even know, and then I did, but…’ then she’d burst into huge racking sobs that went on for ages.
‘Shh,’ he’d said, stroking her hair at last. He wanted to bury his whole face in it.
‘I thought I’d really pissed on my chips, with Iain and everything…and then just disappearing…’
‘No,’ said Harry. ‘No, it was really just me being a jealous idiot. I couldn’t have pissed more on my chips. I realised…I’m not grumpy because of my mum, or because it’s just the kind of person I am…it’s because I’m,’ he cleared his throat, ‘a bit lonely. I drove a girl away once, and bloody hell, if it doesn’t seem to be becoming something of a habit.’
Katie clung on to him very hard.
‘I sorted it out with Iain, by the way.’
She looked up at him, tears still streaking her face. ‘Good.’
‘I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I will, because I want you for myself.’
‘What?’
‘He was chatting up somebody else when I left.’
‘Good for him,’ said Katie, almost ready to smile at the sweet, weak man she’d got to know. She’d have to keep the paper, she thought.
He nodded quickly. ‘Plus, the women are heading out too. Somebody told them there’s forty men to every woman in Alaska.’
‘Cool,’ Katie nodded.
‘Katie, look. I’ve wasted so much time by not saying anything. And being a bit of a prick.’
Katie nodded again. ‘You were.’
‘I know. Love means, turning into a complete prick. Apparently,’ said Harry.
Katie gulped painfully when she heard him mention the L word.
‘But I won’t stop any longer. Please, please please please come back with me. For ever. Live with me, my house is much nicer than Aunt Senga’s. Although you can stay there if you like. I don’t want to rush you. Or, you know, we could come to London a lot, I promise. I could even look for a job here if you want, that’s how much I want to be with you.’
Katie half-laughed. ‘There are NO forests in London.’
‘No? Well, I’m sure we could plant one.’