Two Kinds Of Truth

by Lynette Creswell

  “Did you find me easily enough?” she calls, and as soon as I reach the doorstep, she hugs me tight.

  “Yes, the satnav brought me straight to your door, although the weather could be a little kinder.”

  “If it was kinder, it wouldn’t be Scotland,” she laughs. Bridget stands aside to let me pass then closes the door and pulls a thick tartan curtain across the doorframe.

  “I’ve already put the kettle on,” she says, turning to face me. “Unless you’d care for something a little stronger?”

  I smile. “No, tea’s fine. Thanks.”

  She gestures for me to follow her into an open plan kitchen. The cottage is like nothing I expected. I thought it would be log fires and antlers on the wall, but I couldn’t be more wrong. It’s modern and minimalistic, and the far wall has been replaced with a full sheet of glass. I’m drawn towards it like a magnet and am instantly surrounded by panoramic views of the loch, of mist-peaked mountains and snowy glens. The wind is blowing through the trees and I find myself waiting for William Wallace to appear on one of the hills, riding a black horse, his face painted blue and white in readiness for war.

  “It’s beyond breath-taking,” I sigh. “No wonder you love staying here.”

  “Yes, it’s my little piece of heaven. There’s nowhere else in the world like it.”

  “I can see why you’d think that.”

  “Milk and sugar?”

  “Hmm, just milk please,” and Bridget soon offers me a lime green mug.

  “Biscuit?”

  “No, the tea will do nicely, thanks.”

  “Let’s go into the sitting room. It’s cosy there, and then you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I take a gulp of hot tea as we enter another room that has two fireside chairs covered in a pale grey tartan. We sit down and my eyes are drawn towards a brightly coloured mural painted on the wall. It’s of deep purple mountains surrounded by a skyline of pale blue.

  “Wow, that’s stunning,” I say. “Did you paint it yourself?”

  She smiles. “Yes; I got the owner’s permission, of course.”

  “You must be good friends,” I say, lifting the mug to my lips again.

  “Kind of. He’s my ex-husband.”

  I almost choke. “Oh, I didn’t realise you’d been married.”

  She waves her hand, as if to pooh-pooh the situation. “It was a long time ago, and we’ve gone our separate ways.” She places her vivid orange mug down onto a glass coffee table. “Still, we’re not here to talk about me, are we?” and I let out a sigh.

  “I don’t know where to start. I’m so confused.”

  “I find the beginning can be useful.”

  “My life’s a complete mess,” I tell her, and the first tears prick my eyes. “Callum, my husband, has been lying to me since the first day I met him. In fact, our whole marriage was built on a lie.”

  I stare into Bridget’s eyes and can see the concern that’s written there.

  “So, what’s he done?”

  I take a deep breath. “Callum’s been having an affair.”

  “Is it with Ally?” she asks softly.

  I suck in my breath. “How did you know?”

  She shrugs. “I have eyes. I may live in the middle of nowhere, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind. I’ve been coming here for many years now and know a lot about the locals. I was aware Ally and Callum had a thing going at one time.”

  “Then you know she has a son.”

  A shadow flits across her face and she looks away.

  “Did you also know that Callum’s the father?” I ask.

  “I guessed,” she says, reaching for her tea. “To be honest, it wasn’t exactly hard.”

  My gut tightens as I place my own mug onto the coffee table.

  “You’ve seen him? The boy, I mean?”

  She shrugs again. “Once or twice.”

  I let out a sob and her jaw drops.

  “You mean you’ve never met him?”

  I shake my head. “No, and until yesterday, I wasn’t even aware he existed?”

  I lower my lashes as the tears start to flow.

  “Christ, Maddie, how could Callum do something so wicked? I’m sorry, but I’ve got to be honest, I’m finding this hard to take in. I am genuinely shocked,” and she jumps to her feet. “I’m a firm believer that in times of crisis a stiff drink is in order,” and she heads off back into the kitchen, returning with two crystal tumblers filled with whisky.

  “Here; drink this,” she orders. “It’ll make you feel better.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t; I’m driving.”

  She frowns. “Then stay. There’s a spare room, and you can leave whenever you’re ready.”

  I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand as Bridget places the tumbler onto the table, next to my mug. She reaches for a box of paper tissues from a shelf behind her and offers them to me.

  I take a Kleenex and blow my nose.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to go soon. Alasdair’s in hospital, you see, and I need to see him.”

  “Why, what’s the matter with him?”

  “He suffered a cardiac arrest.”

  “How awful for you all. Is he going to be okay?”

  “We don’t know for sure, but we’re trying to stay positive.”

  Bridget sits back in her chair and takes a large gulp of whisky.

  “You really are going through the wringer.”

  I try to laugh, but a hysterical noise leaves my throat, instead.

  “Yes, and if that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve suffered yet another revelation.”

  Bridget halts, the glass to her lips. “How can anything be as bad as finding out your husband has been lying to you about a child you never knew he had?”

  “It gets much worse. What you don’t know is that Callum caught mumps soon after Ally got pregnant, which made him infertile.”

  “You mean…Callum can no longer have kids?”

  “That’s pretty much the crux of the story. We found out after months of trying for a baby. We used all our savings on IVF, but nothing worked. I craved a child so badly, I even said I was willing to adopt, but Callum wouldn’t hear of it.”

  Bridget looks down into her whisky. “Yes, I’ll bet.”

  “I learned this morning that, out of desperation, Callum tried to convince Jamie to sleep with me.”

  Bridget lifts a hand to her throat. “You can’t be serious.”

  I pick up my tea. “Oh, never more so.”

  “But why would he do such a thing?”

  “Because Callum thought that if Jamie was able to get me pregnant everything would be all right between us.”

  “You mean he asked his brother to switch places?”

  I stare into my cup, unable to look her in the eye. “Yes.”

  “What? Without your consent?”

  I force myself to look at her. Her face is pale, her eyes wide.

  “It was the night we visited the Scran and Sleekit. I got a little drunk and…Jamie, well, he was supposed to sleep with me that night.”

  “And did he?” Bridget asks, arching a pencilled brow.

  “No. I may have been drunk, but I wasn’t that drunk.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, they are identical.”

  “Of course I am. I sensed someone in the bedroom not long after I went to bed. I thought it was Callum, but when he never got into bed, my subconscious woke me.”

  “So, do you think that’s when it came to the crunch? Jamie couldn’t go through with it?”

  “All I know is that he didn’t sleep with me that night. But I just wish he’d told me what Callum had planned.”

  Bridget shakes her head fiercely.

  “Are you kidding me? He’s never going to admit that to you, or to anyone. Put the shoe on the other foot; would you?”

  My shoulders sag as I stare down at the pale-yellow carpet.

  Bridget comes over and kneels in front of me, placing her hands on the
tops of my arms.

  “Jamie loves you,” she insists. “I’ve known ever since the day of the festival. And why I refuse to believe he would ever deliberately hurt you.”

  A single tear slides down my face. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because of what he wrote on his bay leaf.”

  My brows furrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Everything.”

  I take a steadying breath. “Okay, so tell me: what did it say?”

  She lifts my chin with her forefinger and stares deep into my eyes.

  “Jamie wrote: ‘Maddie, my heart and life is forever yours’.”

  I try to hold back the tears. “He actually wrote that to me?”

  Bridget nods. “He’s the one you should be with, not Callum. I’ve sensed this all along. Whatever mistakes Jamie’s made, they were all for you; because he loves you.”

  “But couldn’t you say the same for Callum?”

  “I guess it depends on how you look at it. Were his actions truly because he loved you or because he was riddled with guilt over having a child with someone else? But whichever way you choose, at the end of the day, it’s your call.”

  My mobile goes off just as Bridget rises. I reach inside my handbag and learn I have missed calls from both Jamie and Callum.

  There’s a text message, too, from Jamie.

  I open it and read the few words.

  “I need to go,” I say. “Jamie says it’s granda.”

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  I shake my head. “No, you can’t, you’ve had a drink. Even I’m aware there’s zero tolerance to alcohol in Scotland.”

  “Damn my foolishness,” and Bridget’s eyes fill with regret.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine. And thanks for the tea…for everything.”

  I squeeze her hand and she reaches out and hugs me once again.

  “I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me,” she whispers in my ear, and when she breaks away, I smile at her.

  “I’m so glad I fell on my arse that day at the brae.”

  “Me too,” and her voice has filled with laughter. “It was the funniest thing I’d seen in ages!”

  Chapter 14

  The drive to the hospital takes forever and all I can think about is granda lying there, helpless. The guilt of not going to see him earlier this morning plays on my mind as I press my foot down a little harder on the accelerator. The roads are busier than when I left, and I curse and swear for other drivers to move out of the way.

  The dark clouds shift to reveal a thin trickle of sunlight. A bitter wind still blows, and I turn up the heating—just a notch. I can’t get there fast enough, and I arrive at the hospital within half an hour of receiving Jamie’s text. I head for the visitor’s carpark and grab a ticket, flinging it carelessly into my handbag, then hurry through the automatic doors and head straight for the lift. The hospital is buzzing with everyday dramas. The infirm and the elderly are being pushed around in wheelchairs and porters scurry about with empty lunch trolley’s.

  I press the button that will take me to the second floor, my heart pounding like a drum, convinced they’ll have me attached to a heart monitor the second I enter ITU. Then the doors open and I hurry along the corridor, my eyes searching for a member of staff who can help me. I head for the nurses’ station and am relieved to see the ward manager sitting at the desk, filling in paperwork.

  She glances up and gives me a hesitant smile when our eyes meet.

  “Oh, Mrs McKinley; please go on through. Your husband’s already at your grandfather’s bedside.” The pressure in my chest tightens. It all now feels so real, as if I’ve fallen from one of those high-limbed apple trees I’ve seen growing close to the farm. I can’t bring myself to ask the question that’s perched on the edge of my tongue, too busy fighting the bile that’s rising into my throat, and so I hurry on past.

  The curtains around Alasdair’s bed are closed, and I stop dead in my tracks, rooted to the spot as the room takes a slow, sickening spin. I cannot move and my vision blurs.

  Then there’s the swoosh of curtains being flung back and I see Jamie, not Callum, standing there. My eyes flit from his face to granda’s, and I let out a heart-wrenching cry and run over to the bed. Alasdair is sitting up, sipping water from a beaker.

  “You’re all right,” I cry, astounded, and reach out for his hand. His calloused fingers are warm to the touch and there’s colour in his cheeks. “You had us all worried,” I chastise, and his fingers tighten around mine.

  “Aye, lassie. Well, I’m a bit weak after my ordeal, but I’m not ready to meet my maker just yet.”

  I glance over at Jamie, but he won’t look at me. “Could I have a word with you, please? Alone,” and Jamie finally turns towards me and I can see the hurt, the fear, that flickers behind his eyes.

  “Aye, but you’d best be quick. I’ve got to get back. I’ve work to do.”

  I bend over and peck Alasdair on the cheek. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in five,” I promise.

  Jamie and I both head over to the relatives’ room and I go and stand by the small sliver of glass they call a window, peering in. The place is empty, so I pull at the door handle and make my way inside.

  “Close the door behind you,” I say as Jamie enters, my back still to him.

  I hear the click of the latch, and when I turn, Jamie’s only inches from me. His shoulders are hunched and the light in his eyes has diminished.

  “What you did was wrong,” I say.

  He looks up at me then, his eyes wide with alarm.

  “How many times do I have to tell ye? I dinnae do anything,” he protests before letting out a deep sigh and dropping into one of the plastic chairs. “Callum kept on and on at me, begging and pleading, until I lost my resolve. I could see how much a bairn meant to ye, and after what ye told me, and seeing ye with Findlay, I couldnae deny ye a chance to be a mother.”

  “But the implications… If you’d gone through with it, it would have been classed as ra—”

  “Aye, I realise that now, but I dinnae at the time. All I wanted was to help ye.”

  “What? By pretending to be my husband? By taking advantage of me and having sex without my knowledge?”

  Jamie’s voice starts to rise. “You’re making it sound sordid. What I was willing to do was out of love for ye both, not through some depravity on my part.”

  “And I’m supposed to thank you for trying to deceive me?”

  Jamie jumps to his feet and takes a bold step closer, his face now inches away from my own.

  “I told ye I couldnae go through with it. Seeing ye lying there, ye looked beautiful and seductive, yet I wanted more. I wanted ye desperately, Maddie, but I also needed ye to give yourself to me willingly.”

  “So, you think I should just swoon at your feet and forget the whole thing because you had my best interest at heart? Is that it?”

  “Nah, of course not. But what I am asking for is yir forgiveness. I’m sorry, Maddie; truly. I ne’er meant to hurt ye. I know how much ye want a family and I thought maybe, just maybe, I could give ye what ye desired.”

  I bite my lip.

  “And giving me a child was your sole driving force, the only reason you were willing to go ahead with Callum’s ridiculous plan?”

  “Aye, I somehow got sucked in. I guess losing Claire and having no family of my own made me realise what it’s like to live a half-life. To just exist.”

  I stare into his eyes. They’re open and honest and I can’t be angry with him a moment longer. My fury deflates and Bridget’s voice rings loudly in my ears: “Whatever mistakes Jamie’s made, they were all for you. Because he loves you”.

  I take a deep breath. “All right, I forgive you,” I whisper, and he lets out a cry and sweeps me into his arms. His lips crush down on mine and his body presses ever closer. I sense his hunger and suffer a moment of longing, wanting to be devoured by him.

  “I love ye,
Maddie,” he breathes in my ear, and a delicious tingle fills the pit of my stomach.

  “And I you,” I say, and he smiles for the first time. His mouth searches out mine once again and my body relaxes, wrapped securely in his arms. When he pulls away, his eyes are smouldering with passion.

  “I think we should stop before we get carried away,” he whispers. “Perhaps we can continue tonight, when ye come home.”

  I nod and touch my swollen lips with my fingertips.

  “Yes,” I say, “we’ve lots of catching up to do, but let’s get back to reality for a while. I’m just so relieved granda’s alive and well.”

  Jamie nods. “Aye, the nurse said he’s out of immediate danger, but that it’ll take a fair wee while for him to fully recover.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until he’s permanently back on his feet,” I announce, and Jamie breaks into a grin, then grabs my hand and kisses my fingers.

  “Ye dinnae ken how happy that makes me to hear ye say so,” he says.

  I smile as he lets go of my hand, and as he opens the door, I realise a new chapter in my life is about to begin.

  “I’ll walk to the main doors with you,” I say to him as he waits just beyond the door, but as I go out into the corridor, I see the ward manager. “I’ll be right back in a few minutes,” I say to her, and she smiles, then Jamie grabs my hand once again, squeezing my fingers.

  We’re just approaching the lift when its doors start to open, then I jerk back when Callum steps out. I’m riveted to the spot and automatically let go of Jamie’s hand. But there’s someone standing behind Callum, and to my horror, Ally steps out, a smartly dressed little boy at her side, and my legs start to shake.

  “What are ye doing bringing her here?” Jamie roars, his voice filled with disgust. “Granda isnae fit for any shocks just yet. His heart cannae take it.”

  Callum switches his gaze from Jamie to me, then back to his brother, his eyes hard, like pieces of flint, his mouth drawn to a tight thin line.

  “Don’t worry yourselves,” he says, “my family will wait in the relatives’ room,” at which my heart contracts, and for a second I fear I’m going to be physically sick. I stare down at the beautiful child holding tightly to his mother’s hand. He’s just as I imagined. Those luscious thick curls and big sea-green eyes make him Callum’s double.