The Confirmation

by L G Dickson

  Mid-morning, the office clerk Simon announced he was going for scones and Annie placed her usual order for cheese with lots of butter. Jolted out of witness statements and copies of faded invoices she suddenly got up and marched straight back into Bryce’s office. The number was now imprinted in her memory and she quickly hit the keypad.

  ‘James Kerr.’

  ‘Well, that’s short and to the point.’

  ‘Annie? Lovely to hear from you. Ah yes, my business voice – not too off-putting, I hope.’

  ‘No, no,’ she stuttered. ‘Just wondered about that cup of coffee sometime. Maybe later in the week or next week perhaps? Thought we could maybe just cross-check schedules, see where we are, that kind of thing.’ She was rambling now.

  ‘Yes, what about lunch today? Could you make Hendersons for one?’

  ‘Oh yes, fine. Good. One it is.’ She replaced the receiver. Her heart was in her mouth now. Okay, that was a bit unexpected but perfectly manageable, she thought to herself.

  At twelve thirty she was in the ladies’ reapplying lipstick and sorting her hair. Black patent court shoes were shoved into her bag and the still gleaming white trainers were back on her feet. I’ll change footwear just as I get to Hanover Street, she decided.

  As she approached the corner of Queen Street and Hanover Street she saw him coming from the opposite direction. He’s bound to say something about my choice of footwear, she thought to herself but when they met he merely smiled and said he hoped the restaurant wouldn’t be too busy. Hendersons, an Edinburgh institution, was a vegetarian heaven and had been a favourite lunch venue of Annie’s for years.

  ‘You’re not vegetarian, are you?’ asked Annie.

  ‘No, not at all,’ he replied. ‘I just love the place. Serves unpretentious, good food and it’s “so Edinburgh”.’ There was a sarcastic hint of Morningside in that final intonation, Annie thought.

  They found a table for two in a cosy corner and then queued up for the light lunch option of soup and two salad portions. As they sat down again, Annie wondered whether she should try to wrestle the stilettos out of her bag but decided against. The state of her footwear clearly hadn’t registered at all with him.

  ‘Do you remember the Laigh Coffee House opposite?’ he asked lifting a spoonful of tomato and basil soup to his mouth. It was a nice mouth, she thought.

  ‘Oh gosh yes – Moultrie Kelsall!’ she exclaimed. As he brought the spoon back down his face creased gently into a smile.

  ‘I’d forgotten all about that place,’ she went on. ‘When I was young, every time we passed by – in the car, on the bus, walking along the street – my parents would point and say, “owned by Moultrie Kelsall, famous actor”. I had no idea who he was, still don’t, but I absolutely loved the name. Used to wait for them to say it every time and then I would turn it over and over in my head. I mean to say, what kind of a name is that? Moultrie Kelsall – I ask you!’ A name from her childhood, signalling shared laughter and knowing smiles, had suddenly been brought back through the memory of her father’s voice.

  ‘He was my father’s best friend,’ James said quietly tucking into his potato salad.

  ‘So he was real and you actually knew him?’ Annie looked shocked.

  ‘Yes, Father and he grew up together and kept in touch pretty much throughout their lives, even when Moultrie was in London.’

  ‘Really. So where did they grow up? In fact where did you grow up?’

  ‘Bearsden. Glasgow.’

  ‘Glasgow, really?’ A touch of incredulity had crept into her voice so she tried to recover the position. ‘It’s just that you don’t have much of an accent.’

  ‘I see. Are all Glaswegians synonymous with Rab C. Nesbitt?’

  ‘Oh no, not at all. Truth be told I really don’t know that many people from Glasgow.’

  She looked up at him and they both laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. His ‘so Edinburgh’ comment was suddenly vindicated.

  James ordered coffee for them both and they moved effortlessly into pleasant everyday conversation: parents and their famous acquaintances, respective careers, walking in the Pentlands, the joy of having the Botanics right on their doorstep.

  Annie could feel herself relax back into her pine chair and decided now was the time to gently probe the suddenly more malleable surface of Mr Kerr’s persona.

  ‘Well, I can’t be the first woman you’ve tapped on the shoulder after a chamber concert, so what’s the position with regard to significant others in the life of Mr James Kerr?’ She’d jumped too soon. Far too soon.

  He dropped his eyes, wrapped both hands round his coffee cup and stared into the frothy cappuccino. ‘There haven’t really been any, well, not for some time anyway. Just not sure I’m very good at it – relationships, I mean.’

  ‘No, me neither.’ It suddenly occurred to Annie that they might be kindred spirits, but not in a good way. She shook off all such thoughts and tried to move the conversation on.

  ‘Well, there’s more to life and all that. What sort of thing do you like to get up to, away from work?’

  ‘That’s the thing though. I’m really not very good with people. I think I just get too caught up with work, politics. Probably boring for most people but I guess it’s stuff that really matters to me. Then I look at people like the Drummonds and think they really do have everything but choose to waste their lives on trying to impress, indulging in iniquitous gossip or idle tittle-tattle. I don’t even know them really but what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard, just frustrates and annoys me. It wasn’t just the dinner party. I’ve had the misfortune of bumping into them a few times now.’

  Annie withdrew her hand and bristled slightly. ‘Well, they are my friends, James, and no, you don’t know them. You have no idea about their lives, what makes them the people they are. I do and they’re very dear to me.’

  He looked up and could see the disappointment in her face. ‘Sorry, yes I can see that. Perhaps I should just get the bill.’

  Annie insisted on splitting the cost and the next few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence as they exchanged notes and divvied up change. As they emerged from the basement restaurant into the afternoon light, Annie looked up at him.

  ‘You really don’t make it easy.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ He looked shattered. ‘Thank you for lunch – it was lovely. I’m just sorry I spoiled things.’

  He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her gently on the cheek. Annie stood motionless, unwilling to reciprocate, unwilling to display any hint of emotion.

  As he turned to make his way back down Hanover Street, Annie felt a tightening knot in the pit of her stomach. How desperately sad he looks, she thought to herself.

  Annie turned to walk back to the office. As she ambled along the busy thoroughfare that connected the east of the city to the west she felt nothing but a sense of crushing disappointment. If one of the busy residents or office workers rushing back to their desks after lunch had merely brushed her arm or a dog had barked at her from a window she would have crumpled. Suddenly she stopped and, with no clear idea of what she intended or expected, Annie turned and began to march back along Queen Street. Ignoring pedestrian crossings, she broke into a run, the trainers coming into their own, and caught up with James outside the Royal College of Physicians. Aesculapius, the Greek god of medicine and healing, looked down from on high.

  She grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn round.

  ‘You are not doing this. I won’t let you do this. You can’t be angry with people you don’t know and you can’t be so bloody prejudiced about everything. It must be obvious to you that I want to get to know you better. I know there’s an attraction between us but, honestly, you’re making it impossible.’

  Quite unexpectedly, tears began to fall. She was aware that she had her hand on the lapel of
his tweed jacket and was pressing into the soft cotton of his shirt. Somehow, and she was not yet clear about the how or why, he had managed to pierce a slight tear in that protective covering. He had got through and she couldn’t let him do that and just walk away.

  He pulled her to him and gently kissed the top of her head.

  ‘Can we start again? Please?’ he whispered. ‘Everything will be fine. I know it will be.’

  CHAPTER 2

  In the beginning they spent nearly all their time together at the flat in Dean Terrace. She withdrew from many planned social gatherings but steadfastly kept up motherly visits and outings lest suspicion of a new romance should fall upon her. She knew the risks, the very real possibility that this was just not going to work but, in spite of that, she’d made a conscious decision to invest in this man and that was going to involve some dedicated time and effort.

  She found herself one Saturday afternoon in Grays of George Street, ironmongers to Edinburgh’s more gentrified types, including the Queen when she was staying at her modest little palace at the bottom of the Royal Mile. Annie’s mother was looking for a new set of casserole dishes.

  ‘Jean McHarg was asking about that new man we bumped into at the Queen’s Hall.’ Helen was inspecting the bottom of a large microwaveable dish and spoke in a low, dull tone in an unconvincing attempt to convey indifference.

  ‘Oh yes, James. We’ve met for coffee, that’s all. As I said, he’s just a neighbour of the Drummonds.’ Annie walked away to the other side of the shop, conscious of her less than truthful response and randomly picked up a packet of curtain hooks.

  ‘Do you need curtain hooks, dear?’

  Her escape was shortlived. ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Anyway, I said to Jean, “I think he’s just a friend, colleague that kind of thing. Annie’s far too sensible to get all embroiled at her age”, I said. She’s a successful businesswoman, after all. She can stand on her own two feet.’

  Annie’s heart sank. Standing on your own two feet. That was the important thing and if you could do that you really didn’t need to be burdened with any kind of significant other in your life. No one at all.

  *

  One beautiful autumnal Saturday morning, James had gone for croissants from the Home Bakery and Annie was making a large pot of Italian deli coffee. In the space of eight weeks they had cocooned themselves away inside a cosy domestic world, choosing their restaurants and coffee houses carefully and being sure to amble along parts of the Water of Leith walkway that she knew her friends did not frequent.

  She poured some orange juice and set out the butter and jam on the round dining table that looked out onto the small terrace. A rich cloak of autumnal colour already covered the communal garden at the back and the ancient Habitat patio table was covered with the detritus of a particularly stormy night – golden-red leaves, small twigs and pieces of bark, unable to resist the force of the wind, had broken off and scattered themselves to look like a small child’s nature tray.

  The door opened and in he came with bags full of croissants, Scotch pies and Viennese whirls.

  ‘Oh my god, why do you do that?’ Annie feigned exasperation.

  He held her tightly to him. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to eat them all at once. We’ll have the Viennese things later on this afternoon. Coffee ready? Oh and we can freeze the pies. Although I might have one right now – they’re still hot. Look, take a bite – best pies in Edinburgh.’

  ‘James, I told you I was meeting Kirsty and Virginia. Haven’t seen them for ages and they’re beginning to think I’ve left the country.’

  ‘Well, I guess if you have to. Let’s go out tonight then, shall we? How about the Loon Fung?’

  ‘Yes, alright – that would be lovely.’ Annie snuggled into his new red and green check Barbour shirt that she’d bought in Jenners’ sale. Tucked into his faded green cords he seemed to match the room and the colours outside the window perfectly. She smiled to herself. What a ridiculous thing to think.

  After breakfast they tidied up and James suggested driving down to Cramond to walk along by the River Almond.

  There were so many parts of Edinburgh that Annie loved but Cramond village and the foreshore at the Firth of Forth held special meaning for her. When her father made his intermittent forays home he very often cajoled her into donning too many warm clothes and took her down to the promenade at Silverknowes. They would walk along the beach, till they got to the sailboats moored at the mouth of the Almond. The sound of clanking masts told her she was approaching the small warm café where she would sit down excitedly to hot chocolate and marshmallows, her face getting redder as her tightly wound scarf and snug woolly hat turned from wind-chill blockers to thermal conductors.

  Warm memories enveloped Annie as they parked the car and walked down to the promenade. They stopped outside the Cramond Galley Bistro and looked out at the boats bobbing gently in the calm waters, seagulls screeching overhead.

  ‘Shall we ring for the ferryman?’ James asked. The ferry ran between Cramond and the Dalmeny Estate, owned by the Earl and Countess of Rosebery. The ringing of a large ship’s bell would summon the estate worker from his small cottage at the edge of the river and he would traverse the short stretch of water in his rowing boat to pick up ramblers and tourists who wanted to continue their walk through the estate to South Queensferry.

  Annie looked up at him. ‘James, you know we don’t have time. I thought we were just going for a walk along the Almond.’

  ‘Well, to be precise, you don’t really have time,’ he replied, frowning.

  ‘That’s absolutely correct.’ She started to walk back to the car disregarding the plan to pop into the Bistro for a plate of soup.

  They drove back to the flat in silence. Once through the front door, she took off her jacket, hung it on the coat hook and turned to him as he came in behind her.

  ‘What’s wrong? You can’t possibly think I’m going to just abandon my friends and spend every waking moment with you. Do you know how emotionally immature that sounds? You’re ten years older than me for God’s sake.’

  ‘It’s just that we’ve been having such a nice time together and, well, it was such a nice day, that was all,’ he replied, stroking her face.

  Annie gently removed his hand from her face.

  ‘Well, yes, we have and yes, it is a nice day but look, this is new – for both of us. I liked my life before you came along and I think I might like it even better with you in it but please, you have to let me – I don’t know – just live my life.’ And with that she walked off to the bathroom. She felt a small knot begin to form in her stomach as she wondered how he might react to her minor outburst. After a moment she began the ritual of cleansing and moisturising and followed the same subtle makeup regime she had used since her teens. Annie emerged feeling bright and refreshed.

  ‘Okay, darling. This is what’s going to happen. I am heading off to Café Florentine. Kirsty and Virginia will ask me where I’ve been hiding the past few weeks and I’m going to tell them I’ve been seeing the nightmare neighbour from next door. I’ll tell them a bit about how we met again and explain that you’re not always comfortable in social gatherings with people you don’t really know; hence the slightly uncomfortable dinner party a few weeks back. However, I’ve got to know you very well over the last two months and discovered a shy but kind, warm and interesting character. They’ll express surprise while muttering something about only ever wanting good things for me. I will then finish by suggesting that all six of us, yes that’s right, three couples, get together very soon. Thoughts?’

  She stood with her hands on her hips staring down at him sitting on the sofa. He was lounging comfortably with slippered feet up on the faded tartan-clad footstool that had remained fixed in the same position for years so as not to show the patch of badly worn carpet underneath. This month’
s copy of the National Geographic was set to one side and he looked at her quizzically over the top of his reading glasses. He looked as if he too had occupied that same part of the lounge for years, she thought.

  ‘Why on earth do you want to do that?’

  ‘Because I think it would be good for us. Good for you, to be honest.’ She was disappointed in his response and couldn’t hide it. ‘I’m sorry but it can’t be just you and me. I can’t live like that. We’re going to have to rejoin the human race at some point and I really would like you to get to know my friends. Then you can decide you don’t like them.’

  She sat down beside him and placed her hand on his thigh, grabbing at the thick cord trousers. He looked into her slightly sorrowful eyes, smiled gently and began to kiss her, softly at first and then with a passionate intensity that she loved and readily succumbed to. She felt the now familiar charge racing through her body, slid her hand up his chest, round to the back of his head and pulled him even closer. They sat, entwined, lost in each other, for what seemed like an eternity. When Annie pulled herself away her lips were numb.

  ‘I take it that’s a yes?’ Her hand was on his cheek now, gently caressing him.

  ‘Okay, my dear, I’ll give it a go.’

  Emboldened by his loving response and energised by the first flushes of new romance, Annie kissed him sweetly but firmly on the forehead.