If Only

by Yvonne Beattie

  Those three prats have let me sit there all night and haven’t uttered a word. I haven’t so much as looked near a mirror, let alone into a mirror since I woke up this afternoon, but right enough, all the way down the right hand side of my face, is the perfect print from page 104 of my book.

  As I run the hot tap to heat it, I hear Joel laughing to himself while he makes up his bed. I look at my tired features in the mirror and smile until it almost reaches my eyes. Almost.

  I take a slow, deep breath in through my nose, out through my mouth. It’s all going to be ok, I tell myself. And for the first time in a week, I might just actually believe myself.

  Chapter 6

  “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day, Barney’s friends just want to play…”

  I’m singing happily and quietly to myself, mesmerised by the pretty fields passing by and subsequently listening to the chug of the steam engine we are sitting on while it rains outside.

  “Who the fruit is Barney?” Simon knocks my elbow so it falls off the train table, I bang my funny bone, and I am thrown for a moment, out of my nice little daydream.

  “Simon! What the…?” I turn and punch him belligerently on the arm. “That was sore, what are you doing?”

  “That was sore, what are you doing?” He mimics me like the annoying little brother he would be, if I had one.

  “What is your problem?” I look at him, with the strongest feeling of annoyance. It may be verging on hate.

  “Your incessant singing, that’s what,” he shakes his head.

  “Incessant? Did you swallow a dictionary for breakfast this morning?” I mock him back.

  “Ha, ha!” Bex gulps her mouthful of coffee loudly, and laughs out loud.

  Simon looks at her, dumbfounded.

  “What?” She shrugs her shoulders. “You’re a bloody mean bean sometimes, Simon. You totally deserved that… well, that and after your slightly less than impressive show with scrabble last night.”

  He actually takes a moment to look hurt.

  “Well, I’ll have you know, next time one of your cars breaks down, lets just see how long it takes you to get it going again,” he harrumphs and folds his arms childishly. He’s a mechanic by trade, and a good one at that. I’ll give him that.

  I can’t help but start laughing, even though my elbow is still hurting slightly.

  “You started it,” I nudge him with my shoulder, and I know he’s trying not to smile.

  “So who the heck is Barney?” he looks at me again.

  “Barney?” I look at him puzzled.

  “The stupid song you were just singing?” he reminds me impatiently. “Are you going senile now too?”

  I laugh, “Oh Barney? Everyone’s favourite dinosaur!”

  I look over at Joel sitting beside Bex and watch him smirking as he pretends to be engrossed in reading his book. His eyes flicker at me, but he says nothing.

  Simon sits up straight, turns his body to look at me, places both his hands on my forearm, then says, “Rachel, you need to get a life.”

  Like he’s doing me a favour by saying that out loud.

  I sigh and shrug at him, then snuggle back down into my seat, ensuring I’m angled away from him. I know he is joking and I smile to myself, but he does have a fair point. What am I going to do with myself now?

  The train stops to take its ten-minute break in the Boat of Garten village before starting up again to make its way onto the next station. I get Simon to move so I can have a quick look outside. It’s still drizzling rain so I go solo as the others decide they are not waterproof. I’m kind of glad to be honest, living day and night with three other people has its perks, but it is somewhat overwhelming and draining when I’m used to at least some time on my own.

  I exit the train and upon having a quick look around, I walk with purpose over to read some tourist information. It’s a lovely little reprieve just getting some air, and frankly, I’m looking at the information stand, but I’m not reading the words on it. It’s nice to simply breathe my own air and hear the thoughts in my own head if even just for a few short moments.

  “Hey…” I hear someone say behind me but I know it’s not one of the three musketeers, so I ignore it and carry on not-reading the information bulletins.

  “Hey…. Hey….”

  I reluctantly turn around to see who is calling and who is ignoring.

  “Oh,” it’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.

  It’s the ogler.

  “I thought it was you!”

  I watch as the train driver jumps down from his compartment and comes over to me.

  “I didn’t see you board the train in Aviemore,” he smiles warmly.

  “You’re now driving the train?” I ask, with a deep frown.

  He grimaces slightly and dips his head, looking at me through his thick dark lashes, “Sorta, kinda, not really, I’m not stalking you, I promise.”

  I find myself inadvertently smiling at him. It’s hard not to.

  “Are you sure about that?” I feel my cheekbones tightening as I try not to return his smile to widely.

  “I can assure you,” he smiles easily back at me. Almost like he’s forgotten he kissed me the other night.

  “Is there anything you don’t do up here?” I ask, quizzically.

  “Well, technically I’m not driving the train, my dad is,” he motions over to the driver’s carriage and I see an older man in there. “It’s my day off. You want to ride up front with us?” he asks me eagerly.

  “Oh, really?” I ask, surprised yet apparently excited at the prospect of riding shot gun on a train.

  “Sure,” he smiles and motions for me to follow him.

  “OK, I’ll quickly tell my friends,” I run over to the train window and stretch up to chap on it until they stop chatting, after purposely ignoring me, and turn around to look down pathetically at me.

  “I’m riding up front with the driver,” I shout, over emphasising my words, and admittedly sort of jumping up and down a bit with excitement.

  They all look quickly at each other and smirk. I know they’re going to make fun of me as soon as I turn around.

  Simon uses his own form of sign language to say ‘OK’ to me, extremely over animatedly.

  He is such a dick. On average, I find I could positively smack him approximately fifty times a day. I have no idea how Bex puts up with him, or why she chooses to. He must be good in bed or something.

  I ignore all of them and smile excitedly through my annoyance at them. Joel and Bex are giving me two thumbs up each, and I give them a wave and then run over to the driver’s carriage just as the driver pulls the horn. It’s so unexpected I give an involuntary shriek and jump about a foot into the air. It is so unbelievably loud, I get a rather unpleasant scare as my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. As all this happens, I feel a body come up from behind me and an arm come around my shoulders making me immediately go rigid.

  “It’s ok,” I hear him say into my ear, and he gives my shoulder a squeeze. Not a moment too soon as I think I may have elbowed him if he hadn’t said anything. “I saw you get a scare just as dad pulled the horn. It was one of those inevitable moments where you see something is about to happen, but there is nothing you can do to stop it… timing is everything, right?”

  I relax into him slightly and turn myself around to see him smiling down at me. I find myself looking into both of his eyes in turn. They are the most beautiful pure blue eyes I’ve ever seen. His dark brown hair compliments them perfectly and he has just the right amount of stubble to make me want to run my palm over it more than once.

  “Yeah, it kind of caught me off guard,” I shrug nonchalantly and smile coyly. Then quickly give myself a shake and wipe the stupid smile off my face. I really hope I’m not over flirting. You know, in that God-awful way that makes others want to barf, but he’s so cute, I actually can’t help myself.

  “Come on then, I’ll help you up,” he moves in front of me, takes my hand in such
a chivalrous manner that I feel just like Cinderella going into her carriage. Except, I’m going into the driver’s carriage of a steam engine and the driver who sticks his hand out for me to shake, is looking slightly less than clean.

  “Hello there,” he bellows at me waiting for me to shake his hand.

  “Ah, hi,” I smile up at him and look between his face and his hand, really unsure about shaking it.

  “Oh, look at me,” he shakes his head and retracts his hand. “I wasn’t thinking, it’s a bit dirty in here, but look, if you sit up there you won’t get too dirty,” he motions to a small bench and hands me a blanket to put over my knee.

  “Ok, thanks,” I reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” I add, bashfully.

  “Not at all, not at all,” he bellows again, cheerfully. “It’s nice to have a pretty young lass up front with us.” He looks at his son and winks.

  I smile instantly and relax as I think it might just be fun riding up here with these two. Flattery is always a winner.

  The driver honks the horn again as the train starts to slowly pull away and I find myself intrigued watching how the train is put into action.

  “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” I turn towards the voice that shouted and look into those pale blue eyes again.

  “It sure is,” I smile, raising my voice, it’s noisier than I expected. “Thanks for letting me sit up here, this is way more fun than sitting back there.”

  “I have to agree, I don’t tag along often but dad needed a lift this morning as his car is in the garage getting some work done, so I thought I’d just tag along. It’s nice to spend time with my old man,” he pulls a lever for something as his dad prompts him to.

  “I see, not working at the reindeer store today?” I shout back at him.

  “No,” he looks down and smirks. “I don’t work there, yesterday I was helping out a friend. There was something going on with one of the herds on the hills, and he called last minute to see if I could help out.”

  “Oh, right. Have you always lived in Aviemore?” I ask him.

  “Sure have, wouldn’t want to live anywhere else,” his face takes on a more serious expression but I find it hard to read. “Summer can be a hit or a miss, but it’s beautiful in the summer when it’s warm and sunny, lots of outdoorsy things to do. It’s really the winter that is what makes it fun for me up here though. Hopefully the forecasted snow will come soon and last well into the spring time.”

  “Yeah, we’re hoping the snow arrives soon, like really soon, so we can do some skiing. It’s late this year, right?” I ask and he nods.

  “Hmm, it’s not been great so far on the mountain, but I think it’ll make it up,” he nods, reassuring himself, I think.

  “I hope so,” I find myself agreeing with him.

  We continue to make small talk for the rest of the journey and eventually give up, as we mutually get fed-up of shouting and repeating ourselves to each other. I find I am comfortable in his company and his dad pops in and out of the small conversations as we try again.

  After a very quick thirty minutes or so, we stop off at another village called Broomhill. I have no idea what is here, but I decide to get off the train and stretch my legs again. That, and to give my eardrums a well-earned rest.

  “Here, let me help you down.”

  Just as I hear him say this, I’ve already turned and am mid-hop down off the seat but it’s much higher than I realised and I fall right into his rock like torso.

  “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry,” I giggle girlishly feeling slightly embarrassed.

  “It’s higher than you thought, eh?” he sniggers as he holds me up.

  “Umm, yes…” I find my feet again.

  At that moment I notice he has his hands on my waist and my hands are balled on his chest, with his sweater in them.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry,” I pull away, letting go of his sweater and start patting it back down neatly against his chest. As I watch what I’m doing, I find myself patting the rest of the way down his sweater to his abs, which yes, I can feel through his sweater. And boy o’ boy, are they fine abs.

  I finish straightening his sweater and then stand up straight to look up at him. I do a double take as I find him watching me intently, amused.

  “Wh… what?” I ask, very embarrassed now.

  I guess I just coped a feel, as they say, and if it were the other way around, he’d likely be sporting a slapped face and a barrage of verbal abuse.

  He still looks amused though, and I’m pretty sure I did not offend him, in any way or manner.

  He squeezes my waist slightly then finally lets me go. He turns around and jumps down off the train and motions for me to follow him. As I go to step down as elegantly as I can, he reaches up quickly and lifts me by my waist, twirling me down onto the solid ground as I start giggling like a young girl.

  “Stop!” I brush his hands off me as we both laugh together.

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist that,” he rolls up the blanket which I’d forgotten I’d had on my knees and throws it back up onto the train seat.

  I turn around to see the other guys clambering off the train and fastening their jackets up. It has turned colder but the rain has stopped for now, finally.

  “Hey, it’s you,” Bex motions over to us, and stalks up to the ogler. She evidently didn’t realise it was him I was with. “Why are you here?” she demands.

  “Bex, don’t be so rude,” I immediately jump in feeling mortified.

  “I’m not being rude, I’m asking him a simple question. I’m entitled to aren’t I?” She raises her arms at me, then turns back to him waiting for an answer.

  “He’s helping his old man up here!”

  We all turn and look up to see his dad leaning out of the driver’s carriage, watching us.

  “Oh,” Bex gives him a half wave. “You’re his dad?”

  “Well, so his mother has led me to believe for the last twenty nine years,” he says good-humouredly.

  I look between him and his dad, there is certainly no denying it. They are like two peas in a pod, albeit one older and one younger. Both are very good looking men.

  “Well, that answers that then, nice to see you again. I’ll leave you guys to it.”

  Before I get a chance to say anything, the ogler jumps back up onto the train and exits it at the other side, his dad following closely at his heels.

  “Well, that was short and sweet,” Simon puts his hands on his hips like a diva.

  “Shut up, Simon,” I blurt out, shortly.

  “Come on, let’s go and have a look in that little touristy shop. Maybe the ogler will be working behind the check out,” Bex snorts and follows Simon.

  I turn to look for Joel, but he’s apparently missing in action, so I stick my cold hands into my jacket pockets and trundle after Bex and Simon towards the shop. I could quite happily throttle the pair of them for being so rude. I feel my mood dip now that the ogler has gone, and I’m surprised to realise I am living in hope of seeing him for the ride back again.

  Chapter 7

  “What colour are you going for?” Bex picks up, turns it around in her hand, and places the hundredth bottle of nail polish, back onto the shelf.

  “This one,” I hold up a bottle of clear nail polish with a slight shimmer through it.

  I never get manicures. I’m a piano teacher, I never have any nails so it’s really a fruitless exercise for me.

  “Oh, come on. Live a little,” Bex grabs it from me and puts it back down on the shelf, promptly picking up a bright Hollywood red and handing it to me.

  “No way! I’ll look like a prostitute wearing that!” I push her hand away.

  She puts her hand on her hip and I can see her judging me.

  “Define how a prostitute looks then. Come on?” She starts tapping her toe on the floor.

  “What? No! I don’t know…” I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even know where it came from.

  “No, no. You said you’d look
like a prostitute. So please, elaborate,” she raises her eyebrow and purses her lips.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, you know I was joking. It was a figure of speech, you know what I meant,” I feel my cheeks flush.

  “Hi ladies, my name is Izzy. Who wants to go first then?” The beautician walks over to us looking like she’s just walked out of a photo shoot, and not a moment too soon.

  “She can go first, here, she’s putting this on,” Bex thrusts the bottle of nail polish into her hand.

  “No….” I go to refuse but am overruled. I’m not actually sure my voice made any sound at all as no one took any notice if it did.

  “Oh, this is one of my favourites. So very festive! Come on, follow me and we’ll get you settled. Have you visited us before? Are you having a pedicure too? What are you doing for Christmas? It sure is cold out there today, I’ve been inside all day and I’m glad of it. Are you having any other treatments with us today? We have a massage special and all waxing is half price until Christmas Eve…”

  I can tell this may be a long hour. She hasn’t let me answer any of the questions she has asked me before asking me another one.

  I silently follow after her.

  Well, as it turned out, Izzy was actually an absolute sweetheart. After she’d ushered me into her beauty room, she stopped asking me questions and actually started listening. I found myself really talking to her and that’s been a first for me for a while. It’s funny how some people are just good listeners, and often it’s the people you least expect.

  As she puts the finishing clear topcoat onto my nails and waits for the machine to cure it (I’ve learned a lot about nail etiquette today), she asks with an eyebrow raised, “So, are you glad you went for the more fun option? Or do you wish you’d stuck with your original choice?”

  I smile at her euphemism and feel guilty, yet highly elated that I’d so underestimated her in the beginning.

  “I certainly am ecstatic that I went for the more fun option!” I grin at her feeling much more optimistic than I have in a very long time.

  “Well,” she nods, looking momentarily much older and wiser than her youthful looks give her credit for. “I must say I very much agree, life is too short to waste any time, and I think you have very much made the right decision.”