Two Kinds Of Truth

by Lynette Creswell

  “So, Sassenach, how long are ye planning on staying with us?”

  I shrug. “Oh, I’m not sure, perhaps just a few more days. Why?”

  “Och, it’s just that the local pub’s organising a quiz night on Wednesday if ye and Callum wannae come. It’s nothing special, but it beats listening to Alasdair reminisce about his time serving in Sharjah.”

  I laugh. “Don’t be so horrible,” I protest, and throw a screwed-up piece of tin foil at him, accidently, hitting him right in the eye.

  “Argh,” he cries, covering part of his face and rolling around on the blanket. “That hurt.” I giggle at his schoolboy antics. He’s such an idiot.

  “Oh, stop it,” I say when my sides start to hurt from laughing. “You’re being a drama queen.”

  He’s still hiding his eye behind his hands and pretending to be in pain. I lunge forward, to try and pull his hands away, to end his silly game, but as soon as I touch him, he jerks back and I lose my balance and fall on top of him. His strong arms enfold me and I end up flat against his chest. I feel his warm breath upon my skin and gaze into a pair of dazzling green eyes, pushing myself closer as the desire to kiss him consumes me. I lick my lips in anticipation and close my eyes.

  To my horror, he pushes me away, and I sit bolt upright, feeling my cheeks burn. “Jamie, I’m so sorry. I thought for a second you were Callum.”

  Jamie lifts himself onto one elbow and gives me a wide grin.

  “Dinnae worry, Maddie. Nae harm done, eh?”

  I try to smile, but the corners of my mouth just won’t lift, and I realise there’s this constant ache within my heart that’s quietly killing me. There’s so much I want to say, to explain, but before I get the chance, Jamie glances at his watch.

  “Time’s moving on. It’s best we set off for home before it gets dark.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course. Even the goosanders have fallen quiet.”

  “Aye, they’ll be heading for their nests, just like we should.”

  I avert my gaze and pack away the picnic stuff, too aware that my courage has failed me.

  ***

  As darkness descends, we drive back to the farm. It’s only just after four but already the light’s faded. Neither of us are quite so chatty this time around. I know it’s all my fault. I’m consumed with guilt that I almost, almost kissed Jamie.

  A shiver creeps down my spine. All I want is to get away from my brother-in-law as soon as possible. From the corner of my eye I see him peering at me. What if he tells Callum?

  We enter the farm via the main gates and Jamie kills the engine as soon as we reach the farmhouse. The moment the vehicle stops, I fling open the passenger door and go to jump out, but then I hesitate and turn back towards him.

  “Jamie, about earlier.”

  He shakes his head and I notice frown lines crease his forehead.

  “Maddie, it’s cool. Ye dinnea do anything wrong, so stop ye worrying.”

  I nod and slide out of my seat. A dark cloud’s hanging over my head, but maybe after a goodnight’s sleep it’ll disappear. There’s a bright orange glow from the downstairs windows, which makes the house seem warm and inviting, then a door opens, and the light spills out onto the path, the silhouette of a man blocking the doorway.

  “Were you two planning on staying out all night?”

  It’s Callum, and there’s an edge to his voice.

  “Hi, it’s good to see you, too,” I say lightly, and hurry over to plant a kiss on his lips. There’s warmth in my kiss, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he stares down at me and I can see his eyes are wide with frustration.

  “Whatever’s the matter?”

  Callum lets out a huff. “I thought you’d be back hours ago.”

  “Really? But you knew we’d be late leaving because of the injured bull.”

  “Aye, well, I didn’t expect you to be gone for over four hours. You only went to see a few wild birds. I returned from the market earlier than expected and thought you’d be home.”

  I’m exasperated. “Well, I didn’t realise I had a curfew; you should have said.”

  Footsteps approach from behind me and Callum glances over my shoulder. His demeanour changes instantly.

  “You two had a good time?” he asks his brother.

  “Aye, we did,” Jamie replies, “but I think we’re both ready for a wee dram. It’s biting cold out near the water and I cannae feel my toes.”

  Both men laugh and Callum stands aside to let me pass.

  I go inside while Callum waits for his brother.

  “While we were out, Hetty visited and left us some goodies today,” I hear Callum say. “She’s even baked a clootie dumpling.”

  “How is she?” I interrupt. “Is she still doing the cleaning and keeping you all up to speed with all the local gossip?”

  Jamie takes off his coat and flings it over a hook.

  “Aye, that she does, week in, week out, without fail, just like clockwork.”

  I hear a squeaky floorboard and then the door leading to the kitchen is flung open and Alasdair comes bundling through.

  “Maddie, did ye get the chance to see the goosanders?” he asks, excitedly.

  I nod, “Yes, I did, and it was an amazing experience, thank you.”

  “Excellent news, then let’s talk more about it over dinner tonight. Shall we say six o’clock?”

  “Sure, why not. That gives me plenty of time to have a hot shower and change my clothes.”

  “That’s settled, then, but come inside and have a cup of tea by the fire before ye go.”

  I smile at him. “Oh, I’d love one. My fingers think they’re falling off with frost bite.”

  “’Tis a wee bit cold for the English,” he cries and tips me a wink. “You’re lucky it isnae snowing, though.”

  I take off my coat, hat and gloves and leave my boots by the kitchen door.

  “I hear Hetty’s been to see you today,” I say, going over to the table and lifting the lid on the teapot to check it’s brewed.

  “Aye, and a godsend she is, too. She brings us our supplies and gives the place a quick spruce at the same time. What she cannae do with a mop isnae worth knowing.”

  I laugh as I gather four china mugs from the cupboard.

  After going to the fridge for the milk, I return to find Jamie and Callum already at the table, Alasdair standing by the fire. I pour the tea and offer a drink to each man in turn. Jamie puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small silver hip flask.

  “A wee dram to warm the cockles of yir heart,” he says to me.

  I shake my head, but Alasdair and Callum are quick to offer him their cup. He pours a good measure into each.

  I turn my attention back to Alasdair.

  “So, did Hetty bring you any news from the outside world?” I ask as I sit down and take a sip of hot tea.

  “Aye, lass, that she did. Told me young Ally, the vet, is back. She caught sight of her up at Mary McEwan’s farm last week when she visited.”

  To my surprise, Callum chokes on his drink.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, concerned.

  He looks startled. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. It went down the wrong hole.”

  My gaze shifts to Jamie. “Ally? She’s the woman I met this morning, right?” and although I’ve directed the question straight at Jamie, it’s Alasdair who replies.

  “Aye. Nice looking lassie, clever too. She left a few years ago; sudden it was. I thought she’d met a nice wee man but Hetty says she just couldnae settle.”

  I turn towards Callum and notice he’s avoiding my gaze. Minutes later, I finish my tea.

  “Okay, boys, I’m off for that hot shower I promised myself.”

  I take my empty cup over to the sink, wash it and put it away. All the while, the silence that surrounds me is deafening.

  “So, dinners at six o’clock sharp,” I reiterate to granda. He nods. “Okay, see you all then.”

  Chapter 5

  Jamie

  I wa
tch Maddie leave the kitchen. I don’t know all the ins-and-outs of what’s going on between her and Callum, but I sense it’s bad. As his brother, I want to help, to reach out to them both, but he’s closed that door between us, made it clear I have no right to interfere between husband and wife. He’s always been a stubborn bastard, the one who slaps the hand of friendship away. If he wasn’t my kin, we would have parted ways many years ago.

  I let out a deep sigh, for all I can see is a man drowning in his own misery.

  “Is there any more whisky?” Callum asks, breaking my train of thought.

  I reach straight into my pocket and pull out the flask. The metal feels cool around my fingers and I quickly unscrew the cap and pour a stream of golden liquid into his cup.

  “Will that do for ye?” I say with a forced smile, but Callum’s expression stays sombre. He takes a large mouthful and then hesitates before downing the rest. I watch him swallow.

  “So, ye dinnae know Ally was thinking of coming back, then?” I ask.

  He shakes his head then slams the empty cup onto the table.

  “No, and why should I? What she does with her life is none of my business.”

  I nod and replace the flask back into my pocket.

  “Och, I was just asking.”

  “Well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

  My gaze doesn’t waver, staying direct. “So, maybe you’re the reason why she left in the first place?” at which he balls his hands into fists.

  “I have no idea; I was never her keeper. It’s her life and she can do what she likes with it.” He glances down at his watch. “No offence, but I think I’ll skip dinner tonight, maybe take the Range Rover into town.”

  “You mean go to the pub?”

  “Yeah, why not. It beats sitting around here all evening.”

  Alasdair comes and sits beside him.

  “What’s eating ye up, boy? What’s wrong? Somehow, you’ve changed.”

  I switch my gaze to Alasdair, then back to my brother. I want to urge him to answer, but push him too hard and he’ll do the complete opposite. I can see he’s struggling with his emotions, but he’s tenacious and holds everything inside, just like always.

  I’m taken by surprise when he jumps to his feet.

  “Nothing’s wrong, granda,” he declares, defensively. “Why can’t you just leave it alone, eh?”

  I rise to my feet. “Hey, take it easy and calm down. There’s no need to lose yir temper. If ye so desperate to get out of here, I’ll drive ye myself.”

  His glower is one that would have suggested guilt had I not known him all my life. As I watch him closely, his glare slides without effort into a sulk. He turns towards me. “Come on, then, drink up and let’s go.”

  “But what about Maddie? You’re not going to go without telling her, are ye?”

  Callum doesn’t reply; he’s already halfway out of the door.

  “Cal, wait,” I cry, and hurry on after him.

  By the time I catch up, he’s standing by the Range Rover. I have the car keys in my hand and the doors are unlocked.

  “Are ye sure ye don’t wannae tell Maddie where you’re going?” I ask, glancing towards the cottage.

  He shrugs. “No, granda can have that privilege,” and he opens the passenger door and climbs inside. I feel like shit taking him to the pub without Maddie’s knowledge, but I’m aware that if I don’t, he’ll drive himself, anyway. I’ve seen my brother fall into a drunken rage on many an occasion. Although he’s been a different man since he met Maddie, I sense the demon is pushing its way back to the surface once again. I’ve no wish to witness that side of him, so I’ll do everything in my power to avert the violent monster from showing its face.

  I make my way to the driver’s side, and even before I turn on the engine, Callum’s urging me to put my foot down.

  “What’s making ye so edgy tonight?” I ask.

  “Nothing; I just need a change of scenery.”

  “We don’t have to go to Camburgh for that. We could easily go for a walk if that’s all you’re after.”

  “Just drive,” Callum snaps, “or I will.”

  I push the Range Rover on down the narrow country lanes, not slowing until we reach the outskirts of Camburgh. In the distance, a floodlit medieval church appears on the horizon. The sight of it still fills me with awe, even at this distance. The gothic style building is a sanctuary to many who use it, its two stone turrets rising either side of a magnificent stained-glass window in its eastern front. There’s also a cross chiselled from a single piece of stone that stands between the two turrets. The whole edifice looks formidable, a beacon of hope for many perhaps, yet inside my head I simply pray there’ll be no trouble this night.

  I watch my brother out of the corner of my eye. His face is tense and his jaw twitches. I try to think of something funny to say that might bring him out of his dark mood.

  “Do ye remember the time when we were coming back from town and McDougal’s prize cow chased us up this hill? We both near pissed our pants.”

  My ploy fails. Callum doesn’t crack a smile.

  “Save it for the old man,” he says, glancing over. “I’m not in the mood for reliving the good old days.”

  I shake my head, exasperated. Sometimes, there’s just no talking to the stubborn wee fool.

  I park up in the market square and Callum is halfway across the road by the time I step out of the car. The old church bell chimes the hour and I think of Maddie coming down to dinner only to learn her husband has left her for a night of binge drinking. I hurry to catch up with my brother, even though I know where he’s heading; there’s only one pub in town and it’s busy there every night of the week.

  Callum opens the door to the Scran and Sleekit and I’m right at his heels. High-pitched laughter and the smell of stale beer hits my senses the second I’m inside, where I follow Callum straight to the bar.

  The pub is made from local stone, the dark wooden beams above my head having been in place for centuries. It has a rustic feel and lots of charm. The soft furnishings are dressed in tartan and tweed, and a pair of antlers hang on the wall. I spot a half-dozen watercolours of Bonnie Prince Charlie with the Jacobite rebels, fighting the English. Their red and black uniforms are a vivid contrast to the wishy-washy pale-cream walls.

  There isn’t a single person here who doesn’t know me and my brother. It’s a small community and identical twins are a rarity. I nod and smile at the many familiar faces, some of whom I went to school with, whilst others are farmers, enjoying a quiet drink with their wives.

  The barman comes over and shakes Callum’s hand.

  “What are ye doing here, Callum; I haven’t seen ye for ages?”

  It’s clear Callum hasn’t come here for pleasantries; a quick hello and he’s ordering a beer for himself and a pint of Coke for me.

  There’s an empty table in the far corner, close by a wood burning stove, which, considering it’s a damn cold evening, is a boon. Callum hands me my drink and I nod for him to follow. We make our way over and I take off my coat, hanging it on the back of a chair. Callum sits on a stool beside me, soon closing his eyes and taking several long swigs of his pint.

  “Ah, that tastes good,” he says, and before I can reply, he’s off to the bar for another.

  He returns with two whisky chasers.

  “Hey, slow down,” I hiss, “the bar doesnae close ’til eleven.”

  Callum grins for the first time since we arrived.

  “Chill out. I’m just catching up on lost time. I’ll not be downing these so quickly, so stop your haverings.”

  He slips a whisky into his drink and my earlier worry about him comes rushing back. I needn’t have worried, though, and much to my surprise, Callum behaves himself. After he’s downed both chasers, he chills out and begins to socialise, mingling with the locals and greeting his old pals from school with genuine warmth, quickly becoming the Callum everyone remembers.

  Eventually, he comes back to th
e table, where I’m still sipping my Coke, now swaying, his mood clearly having turned melancholic. He stumbles as he sits beside me, spilling his beer all over the table.

  “Easy, Cal,” I say, mopping up the mess with a couple of beer mats.

  He laughs and slides what’s left of the spilt beer into his glass with the side of his hand.

  “Not to worry, I’m not about to waste a single drop,” he chuckles into his glass.

  “I think you’ve had enough for one night. God knows what Maddie’s going to say.”

  The mere mention of Maddie’s name wipes the smile off his face, the expression that replaces it shocks me. There’s a wretchedness to him now that I’ve never seen before.

  I reach out my hand and squeeze his wrist.

  “What is it?” I ask, and when he doesn’t speak, I add: “For Christ’s sake, Callum, and for once in your life, talk to me.”

  He lifts his head and turns towards me, his eyes shining like glass, filled with unshed tears, and my heart lunges in my chest. Whatever it is, it’s tearing him apart.

  “Please, let me try to help,” I beg. “If only ye would confide in me.”

  Callum takes a deep breath and I find I’m holding my own. Then he looks me straight in the eye, and I know he’s going to tell me the crux of his despair.

  “The truth is,” he says, so quietly I find myself moving closer to hear him, “I can’t give her what she wants,” and he looks down at his beer.

  “What do ye mean?”

  “A baby; I can’t give Maddie a baby.”

  I struggle to find the right words. Callum said they were having problems conceiving, but so do many couples.

  “Everyone knows it takes time,” I say, trying to sound supportive. “Sometimes it takes years. Ye just have to keep on trying.”

  He looks back at me, a single tear trickling down his cheek.

  “You don’t understand. I’ve had tests. They say I’m infertile.”

  I’m stunned. Words fail me and I catch my breath, trying to think of something positive to say, but I can’t. I never knew. None of us did.