Spirit of the Island

by Joan Fleming

  Amy stood up, and wandered over to look at the displays, while the assistant engaged Sandy in a hushed conversation. He then turned to Amy.

  ‘Perhaps you would like to try the rings on again to make sure we don’t have to adjust the size, madam. I think they may be a little loose.’

  Having decided that a minor alteration was necessary, the assistant promised to have them ready for collection the next day.

  ‘We’ll come in the morning,’ Sandy said.

  * * *

  Kirsty and Adam–the only people who knew about Amy and Sandy’s plans–had agreed to accompany them to Gretna, to be their witnesses at the wedding. The two couples intended to spend two nights there before returning to Glasgow. Amy had made it clear to Sandy that she would have to do some shopping in Glasgow before they headed south to the border country between Scotland and England. Whilst she was prepared to miss out on the long white wedding dress and all that went with it, she still needed to have a new outfit for her wedding. With one day to buy everything, she had no time to spare.

  She and Kirsty set off for Glasgow and spent most of the morning going from department store to specialist wedding boutique, looking for the perfect outfit. Kirsty had drawn up an itinerary listing possible places to try.

  ‘I’ll know it when I see it,’ Amy said, although she was beginning to lose heart after two hours without a break. Most of the shop assistants were incredulous at the idea that she would choose a wedding outfit in one day.

  ‘Our brides usually start choosing what they’ll wear at least six months in advance,’ a rather snooty assistant told them.

  After that, they omitted to say Amy was the bride, and settled for being a guest at a wedding, without even specifying when the ceremony would take place. As lunchtime approached, Amy began to think they had given themselves an impossible task.

  ‘Perhaps it’s a bit ambitious,’ Amy said. ‘I may have to resort to Plan B, but Sandy’s seen the outfit I’ve brought, and I was really hoping for something special.’

  The women had arranged to meet Sandy and Adam for lunch in a restaurant in the city centre. The plan was to unload their parcels onto the men, before carrying on shopping. If that was necessary.

  Babbity Bowster bar/restaurant in the Merchant City area was an interesting place for lunch, and the first time both Amy and Sandy had been there.

  ‘What you won’t find,’ Adam told them, ‘is plastic and metal chairs. It’s full of rustic character, and the people who frequent it are locals, musicians, tourists… an unusual mix of drinkers and diners. It’s also distinctly Scottish; not a restaurant that’s part of a chain, where the Glasgow branch is exactly the same as the London outlet. It has its own ambiance, which is unique.’

  From the menu, which offered Scottish and French dishes, they all chose Cullen Skink, a traditional soup made with flaked haddock, potatoes, onions and milk.

  ‘That was delicious,’ Amy said. ‘It was a meal in itself–I couldn’t eat another thing.’

  It would have been good to linger there in the warm and friendly atmosphere and listen to some live music, especially as there was a threat of rain outside. But the two women had to face the shops once more if they were to have any chance of finding the elusive outfit.

  Fortified by their meal, they set off with renewed enthusiasm, leaving Adam and Sandy choosing beer from the selection of real ales available.

  ‘We’re only halfway through my list of shops,’ Kirsty said. ‘Lots more to try, and the whole afternoon ahead of us.’

  Their next port-of-call was a specialist wedding outfitter. The assistant, who introduced herself as Nicola, looked carefully at Amy, then took out her measuring tape.

  ‘You’re the bride, aren’t you?’ she said, clearly a woman who knew how to gauge her clientele. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a white wedding dress?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Amy said. ‘I’d like to keep it simple.’

  ‘Would you be prepared to try on a wedding dress? To please me? It’ll take no more than five minutes.’

  ‘Go on, Amy. We have time,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘All right, but I’m sure it won’t be what I want.’

  When she looked in the full-length mirror five minutes later, however, Amy changed her mind. The dress fitted as if it had been made for her. The simplicity of the sweetheart neckline revealed just enough of her cleavage, the ivory silk draped round the curve of her hips in soft folds like the surface of a shell.

  ‘What do you think?’ Nicola asked.

  ‘Yes, I like it,’ Amy said, smiling. ‘You were right.’

  ‘It’s stunning,’ Kirsty said, when Amy emerged from the dressing room.

  Nicola fussed round the dress, pinching the material here and there between her fingers, taking pins from a pin-cushion strapped to her wrist, holding them between her lips when she needed both hands to make her adjustments.

  ‘You have to take this one, Amy. I know you didn’t set out to buy a wedding dress, but I can’t imagine you looking better in any other outfit,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Amy said, letting the soft silk slip through her fingers. ‘It seems too much fuss for a quiet wedding, but I love it.’

  ‘In our business, there’s no such thing as too much fuss,’ Nicola said. ‘Every wedding is special. I knew when I looked at you that this was the dress for you, but we can try others…’

  ‘No need,’ Amy said. ‘This is the one. But you have to do some work on it, don’t you? And I need it for tomorrow.’

  ‘I can stay late tonight. It shouldn’t take me too long. Can you come for a final fitting tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Yes. We plan to leave about lunchtime tomorrow.’

  ‘No problem,’ Nicola assured her. ‘Now, what about shoes and accessories?’

  When the assistant went through to the workshop at the rear of the boutique, Amy turned to Kirsty. ‘Shall we see if we can find your outfit here, too?’

  ‘I’ve already planned what I’m going to wear.’

  ‘Have a new outfit, Kirsty. It’s going to be a bit dressier than I thought. Besides, you’ll be able to surprise Adam with something new,’ Amy said.

  ‘I may have the perfect outfit for you, too,’ Nicola said, overhearing their conversation as she returned. ‘I ordered it for another client, but she… she has put on a little weight recently, and it no longer fits.’

  From the back of the store, she produced a pale blue dress and jacket. It was the colour of a summer sky; the material had a slight sheen–understated chic, the assistant called it, which was a phrase Amy might have used to describe her own dress code. How well it suited Kirsty, with her blond hair. Even her blue eyes had more sparkle and, Amy noticed, the stones in her rings complemented the outfit beautifully.

  Amy took one look at her friend and said, ‘That’s it. Turn round. Slowly. A perfect fit. What do you think?’

  ‘Yes. I really like it,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘We’ll take it,’ Amy told the assistant.

  Two hours later, the pair emerged from the boutique armed with everything they needed for Amy’s wedding day–except her dress. That would have to wait till tomorrow.

  Chapter 39

  The two couples travelled separately to Gretna, as Amy and Sandy had no plans to stop in Glasgow on the return journey. They’d booked to stay two nights in the hotel before returning to Mull.

  Before setting off, they had to collect Amy’s wedding dress and her rings. It only took an hour for Sandy to collect the rings and Amy to try on her gown. She emerged from the boutique with her precious bundle, which Sandy laid carefully on top of the other luggage in the boot, before they started their journey south in earnest.

  From the moment they arrived at the hotel, Amy felt she was living in a dream world. Sandy had volunteered, with her agreement, to liaise with everyone concerned at Gretna Green.

  ‘I’d like this wedding to be as stress-free as possible for you,’ he’d said. ‘Provided you
’re happy to leave it up to me?’

  ‘More than happy, my love. If you have the time?’

  ‘I have the inclination–and I’ll make the time.’

  Having arranged to meet Kirsty and Adam at the hotel, they checked in together. An employee showed them to their rooms, Amy and Kirsty to one bedroom, Sandy and Adam to another. They’d all had great fun discussing how they would arrange for Sandy not to see his bride on their wedding day. But he was insisting on doing things by the book.

  ‘They say it’s bad luck for a groom to see his bride before she arrives for the ceremony,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard that,’ Amy said. ‘But few people worry about that nowadays.’

  ‘Maybe so. But we won’t take any chances.’

  It was a light-hearted group of four who had dinner together in the hotel that evening.

  ‘Are you nervous about tomorrow, Amy?’ Kirsty asked.

  ‘Not really. In fact, I’m quite looking forward to it,’ she said.

  ‘When we got married, I was so nervous I didn’t sleep a wink the night before,’ Kirsty said, with a meaningful glance at Adam. He leant over and kissed her briefly on the lips. ‘When you’re being married tomorrow, we’re going to renew our vows. Not openly, of course. Silently.’

  ‘So there’s no need for you to have a sleepless night,’ Amy said. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be sound asleep by midnight, Kirsty. You’ll probably have to wake me in the morning.’

  In spite of her predictions, Amy found it difficult to settle. Thinking that Kirsty was already asleep in the other bed, she tried not to toss and turn, but eventually her friend switched on her bedside lamp.

  ‘We’re both lying here trying not to keep each other awake,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we have a glass of that champagne in the fridge and chat for a while?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Amy said. ‘I thought I was quite relaxed, but maybe I am a bit tense. I wish I knew why. I’m sure the ceremony will go like clockwork.’

  ‘You’re not having second thoughts, are you?’

  ‘No. I’ve made the decision. I’m sure it’s the right thing to do. I love Sandy, and he’s made it clear he loves me.’

  ‘He’s certainly put a lot of effort into bringing you to the altar,’ Kirsty said, sipping from her glass.

  ‘The anvil,’ Amy corrected, laughing. ‘I bet when you were married, you never thought you would be renewing your vows here two years later.’

  ‘I didn’t anticipate renewing our vows at all,’ Kirsty said, a catch in her voice.

  ‘Are things all right now between you and Adam?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Yes. At least I think so. We’re both working hard at putting the past behind us. We’re not totally relaxed, but I’ve persuaded him to drop this idea of going to America for plastic surgery.’

  ‘Do you think renewing your vows tomorrow will help?’ Amy asked.

  ‘I hope so. We were both so pleased you asked us to share your day with you. We want to help to make it memorable for you. If we can derive some benefit from it, that’ll be the icing on the cake.’

  ‘I really hope you can, Kirsty. That will add to our happiness tomorrow, too.’

  ‘If you don’t go to sleep, bride-to-be, you will not be dazzling your intended with the beauty of his new wife. Time to put out the light.’

  They chatted for a few more minutes, before Amy heard Kirsty’s regular breathing. She then settled down to sleep herself.

  Chapter 40

  A glance out of the window reassured Amy that the weather forecast had been correct. The sun was shining on her wedding day. Although she hadn’t had a long night’s sleep, she felt refreshed and full of excitement for what lay ahead.

  The two women had ordered room service for breakfast, to make sure there was no possibility of Sandy catching a glimpse of his bride. When the waiter knocked discreetly on their door, Amy was more than ready to start her day. They had ordered a continental breakfast, and the smell of hot croissants and coffee set their tastebuds working.

  ‘We made the right decision, Amy,’ Kirsty said. ‘These croissants are delicious. I don’t think a full Scottish breakfast would be the ideal start to our day ahead.’

  ‘You’re right. Bacon, eggs and sausage might lie a little too heavily. I’ll bet the guys are having the cooked breakfast, though.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I don’t think either of them will be in stress-free mode until later in the day,’ Kirsty said.

  When Amy emerged from the shower half an hour later, it was to find the hairdresser in the bedroom.

  ‘Hello, Amy. Is it all right if I call you Amy?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Unless you want me to call you Miss Wilson, as you won’t be that for long?’ The hairdresser–Leila–had a twinkle in her eye. She was clearly used to working with clients on their special day, and had the inconsequential chat to relax and entertain them. Tales of wedding dresses left at home, broken heels of shoes, missing rings could have been worrying, but Leila described the two-hundred-mile taxi ride to retrieve a dress, the instant stick glue to mend the shoe, and the substitute rings provided by the hotel to save the day for the married couples.

  Amy and Kirsty had no idea if these tales were true–they rather doubted it–but the chatter passed the time while Leila expertly piled Amy’s dark brown hair on the top of her head. Securing the style with a multitude of pins, she attached her headdress–a simple band of fresh flowers which matched her bouquet.

  Turning next to Kirsty, Leila examined the soft blue fascinator she would wear.

  ‘That would sit beautifully on a French pleat,’ she said. ‘Was that your plan?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Kirsty said, ‘but it sounds great. I’m not very good at doing that myself, so I’ll leave it up to you.’

  With well-practised fingers, Leila worked on Kirsty’s long blonde hair, twisting it expertly into the style. She even managed to set the fascinator at a rather jaunty angle, which Kirsty hadn’t considered before.

  ‘That’s perfect,’ Kirsty said, looking at the finished effect in the mirror. ‘My scar doesn’t look so bad with this hairstyle. And these little fascinators are so much less obtrusive than hats.’

  With their hair done, they still had plenty of time. Both had opted to do their make-up themselves; it would be a luxury to sit in front of the mirror with nothing else to do but play with the cosmetics they had both brought.

  ‘Should we have a glass of champagne?’ Amy asked. ‘I believe some brides do, to calm their nerves.’

  ‘Why not? A small one, though. We don’t want to trip on our way to the altar.’

  ‘Anvil,’ Amy said, starting to laugh.

  ‘I wonder how the men are doing,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘Do you think we should phone them to find out if everything’s okay?’

  ‘No. I don’t. If anything’s wrong, we don’t want to know. We can safely leave them to fix it.’

  ‘They’re probably having a drink, too. Poor Sandy hasn’t had his stag night. With all this secrecy, he couldn’t let his pals know.’

  ‘He can arrange something once you go back to Mull, I’m sure. We’re planning to come to the island the day after you. Adam wants to examine Benview Cottage. We’ve expressed an interest in buying it, and if we do, we’re going to use the money he’s saved to upgrade it.’

  ‘Mull,’ Amy said, the very sound of the word bringing a smile to her lips. ‘It seems so far away from here. It’s part of another life. That’s the way I used to feel about it when I worked in Glasgow. I was always desperate to go back.’

  ‘And once you’re married, will you feel the same way?’

  ‘I can’t think of any reason why not.’

  ‘Will you still live in Columb Cottage?’

  ‘Probably not. We haven’t decided yet, but we’ll live in Sandy’s house, Hillcrest, to begin with. We can make up our minds later. You know what the Mulleachs say: “There’s no hurry in Mull”.’


  ‘But there will be hurry here in Gretna if we don’t make a move. Let’s get you into your dress.’

  Once she was ready, and Kirsty had made a final check, Amy looked at herself in the full-length mirror. It wasn’t an image she could have conjured up, but the person looking out at her was undoubtedly Amy Wilson. Amy McFarlane-to-be.

  ‘Will I do?’ she asked Kirsty.

  ‘You look stunning,’ her friend said. ‘So beautiful, I want to cry.’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Amy said. ‘Your eye make-up will run. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? A vision in blue for Adam to cherish for the rest of his life.’

  The two friends embraced each other gently, then set out from their hotel room. They would arrive the traditional five minutes late.

  * * *

  When Amy took her place beside Sandy, she turned to look at him. She had never seen him in his kilt before; there was no doubt Highland dress added to the stature of a man. He looked resplendent in his clan’s red, blue and green tartan, and his black Argyll jacket with its silver buttons. But it was the expression on his face that captured her attention. The admiration in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. She felt as if they were the only two people in the place; they could have been alone on a desert island. At that moment, it seemed they merged into one, as if their sole purpose in being born was to come together here, in this place, at this time.

  Amy was vaguely aware of what was happening around her. The entire ceremony seemed to pass in a blur, with words and phrases like this woman… this man… I do… husband and wife… anvil… kiss the bride. And suddenly, Sandy was kissing her, gently, but with a hint of purpose ahead.

  Congratulations and smiles, hugs and kisses followed, then the two couples walked out hand-in-hand.

  Even the signing of the register–the document that set the official seal on their marriage–seemed to be happening in another world. Amy’s hand shook as she wrote her new name for the first time: Amy McFarlane.