The Confirmation

by L G Dickson

  *

  ‘I thought that went rather well, didn’t you? James was actually quite good company. A few crackpot ideas but much more civil now Annie’s got a grip of him.’ Duncan poured himself a large Scotch and slumped into the tattered old leather armchair.

  ‘Yes, well, I’m not sure how much he enjoyed your cricket sermon but all in all it was a very nice evening; and Annie seems happy, which is the main thing. Aren’t you coming to bed?’ Kirsty asked forlornly.

  ‘No, no. Early Fleetwood Mac concert on BBC2 shortly then I’ll be right in.’

  Kirsty knew that was a precursor to an all-nighter in the armchair, most of the Laphroaig consumed and her wakening up to whisky breath at four in the morning. She headed off for a bath, wishing her life were just a little bit different.

  *

  James threw his coat on to the old pew chair in the hall. ‘I’m going to have a large glass of red. Anything for you?’

  ‘Same, thanks. That and a hot bath should reduce the tension in my neck and shoulder muscles!’

  ‘Really? I thought the evening went okay. Take Mr Drummond out of the equation and it would have been almost pleasant.’

  ‘Oh, James. We really must get to the point when meeting my friends doesn’t rate as some kind of endurance test.’

  ‘Sorry, I just find it difficult to understand how you could have cultivated any kind of meaningful friendship with that man over the years. I think I’m getting to know you quite well and, for the life of me, I can’t see how you can be bothered to give him the time of day – unless of course it’s just to appease Kirsty who, despite appearing to be a bit of an upper class twit, seems pretty harmless.’

  ‘I tell you what, James, why don’t I meet some of your morally upstanding, perfectly mannered friends who no doubt belong to the “right” social class, whatever that may be? Come to think of it, I haven’t heard you mention any friends. Could it be you’re just a bit too quick to judge? Just a bit too good at picking up on any hint of human frailty?’

  They stared at each other, saying nothing. Annie wanted to say more but she was exhausted.

  ‘I’m going to run a bath.’ She took the glass of wine out of his hand and headed to the sanctuary of the bathroom where she undressed quickly and wrapped herself up in her soft towelling robe. As the bath filled she quickly downed the wine. The hot vapours from the bath and the sudden downing of warm Merlot made her feel drowsy. She slid under the water, allowing it to lap gently over her body, her skin tingling with the heat. Her head was semi-immersed, as she closed her eyes in an attempt to insulate her mind from the senseless arguments that existed beyond the bathroom door. How much simpler life had been before James, and yet the thought that he was waiting for her to emerge, sitting on the couch or warming up the bed, made her happier than she’d been in a very long time. Annie could only hope that the nourishing body soak generously poured into the bath would make good on its promise to leave her mind renewed and soul soothed.

  *

  ‘I’m going to tell you something about Duncan. I don’t expect you to comment; I’m just going to leave it with you.’ Annie was indeed feeling soothed and calm as she entered the bedroom.

  James was already in bed, cat lying up against him, engrossed once more in his oversized library book. He stretched out his arm, welcoming her in. Annie dropped her robe to the floor and joined the two boys in their cosy repose.

  ‘Well, to start with, it was Kirsty I first met – during freshers’ week actually. I hadn’t really met anyone like her before. She was so enthusiastic about everything; just threw herself into things. Come to think of it, the complete opposite of me. She entertained, cooked amazing meals, always had whacky ideas for “excursions” as she called them. There was always some form of physical exertion followed by hot and spicy food and what we used to call her kamikaze cocktails. Kirsty’s margaritas were legendary – bucketfuls of tequila topped by a few squeezes of limejuice and heaps of crushed ice. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor!’

  James looked startled.

  ‘Oh, come on, James, you were at Glasgow Uni for God’s sake and I don’t really equate that experience with alcoholic abstinence! Anyway, it never really seemed to get out of hand. I’m sure you did the same.’

  ‘Sorry. Just finding it hard to picture you downing buckets of tequila!’

  ‘Okay, well, moving on… Duncan was also in our year but I couldn’t say I’d really noticed him. He was one of the rugby lads and they pretty much kept themselves to themselves. Anyway, one night I was meeting Kirsty in the Café Royal. We ordered a couple of pints and then she told me she’d started going out with someone and that he would be turning up shortly to meet us. She looked almost sheepish, I remember. I distinctly remember her saying “He’s not very attractive, quite ugly in fact but a nice sort.”’

  ‘Typical Kirsty to tell it as it is.’

  Annie ignored James and carried on. ‘So in walked Duncan and all I could think was I’m glad he didn’t catch the “quite ugly” bit. He was really lovely and really sweet with Kirsty. You need to understand, James, he was such a quiet lad back then and just adored her, which was all good as far as I was concerned.’

  James smiled but Annie knew he was unconvinced.

  ‘After a few months of hanging around together, we were all invited up to Duncan’s parents’ pile in Perthshire. Virginia and Gordon had also hooked up and we’d become quite a tight little group.’

  Annie recalled how Duncan and Kirsty had travelled on ahead and she had endured Gordon’s bad driving, all the while feeling less than enthused at the prospect of a weekend away with someone else’s parents. Hers were bad enough. She had been dozing off in the back when Gordon suddenly braked. He’d stopped the car at the entrance to the drive leading up to the modestly named ‘Drummond House’.

  ‘I have to say, James, Drummond House was anything but modest. It was a huge mansion, all towers and turrets. I don’t know if you know the area but it sat in splendid isolation near the foot of Ben Lawers. Honestly, it looked like it belonged on the set of a Hammer House of Horror film – remember The Fall of the House of Usher?’

  James laughed. ‘Yes, I know where you are.’ Ludovic moved away to a quieter corner of the bed.

  ‘I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Vincent Price emerge, creaking open the big wooden door. Anyway, to all our reliefs, the door was opened, not by Vincent Price but by a very ruddy-faced, jolly kind of woman. “Real country stock” my father would have said – and that was Duncan’s mother Marjorie. Turned out to be an absolute gem – very much like Kirsty actually, just thirty years older.’

  James raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Annie gently put a finger to his lips and carried on.

  ‘Marjorie chatted away, showing us all to our rooms and then shot off, shouting something about drinks in the library and no need to dress up.’

  ‘Sounds less like The House of Usher and more Agatha Christie!’

  Annie smiled at the thought of a murder mystery playing out at Drummond House. ‘Well, that’s when we met Strachan.’

  ‘Strachan?’

  ‘Yes, I kid you not. Strachan Drummond, Duncan’s father. Oh, James, he was awful. His eldest son was off sheep farming or something in New Zealand and that just left the twins, Duncan and Lachlan.’

  ‘Oh my god. There are two of them?’

  ‘Right, that’s enough.’ Annie gently slapped his shoulder. ‘Anyway, Kirsty had told us that Lachlan was the blue-eyed boy. Loud and rude like his father, he had joined the family business straight from school – something to do with estates management and property development.’

  ‘Sounds like everything I hate. Not that I’m jumping to conclusions or anything but he’s probably turning a quick buck for rich, absent landlords and did you say property development? Well, up there he’s proba
bly hell bent on pricing local people out of the property market and keeping them off the land.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think you’re far wrong, to be honest. Anyway, Kirsty had already told me that Duncan, believe it or not, had been a really studious, quiet youngster and early on had decided he wanted to go to university and become a lawyer. Old Strachan was appalled. He thought both boys would go into the business but Duncan just wanted nothing to do with it. Gosh, when I think about it my parents were thrilled that I was going off to do law.

  ‘That whole weekend Strachan just poked fun at him, talked down to him or ignored him. It was awful and Duncan seemed to be making such an effort to try and impress his father, particularly on the sporting front. Endless stories about cricket and rugby didn’t impress Strachan one bit. He would just follow them up by telling us all about Lachlan’s exploits playing for the local rugby team. It was all quite humiliating really.’

  ‘Look, Annie, that sort of family dynamic goes on all the time.’

  ‘Well, I guess you just needed to be there to really appreciate how horrible it was.’

  Annie knew he wasn’t buying it but carried on. ‘Lachlan appeared the morning we were leaving and you could see Strachan was thrilled. He seemed to puff his chest out even more than he had all weekend, slapped the boy on the back and stood grinning from ear to ear as “golden boy” introduced himself to everyone.

  ‘I felt so sorry for Duncan after that weekend, James, and I honestly think you would have too, if you’d been there. There’s no doubt, even now, he still tries to be the man his father hoped he’d be. He’s just not very good at it, thank goodness, but it does mean he can be really overbearing sometimes. I think it’s just because he’s struggled to gain his father’s acceptance all these years.’

  James turned over on to his side to look straight at Annie, inadvertently heaving the cat off the bed. ‘Okay, I get that, Annie, but he’s a grown man now. He can be his own person instead of this caricature of a drunken old fart.’

  ‘Yes, I know but you haven’t seen him at his best and I have. He can be very sweet and he’s always been so supportive and, well, just good to me, particularly when all the stuff with Dad was happening – and I don’t know if we ever stop trying to do good in our parents’ eyes. Anyway, just cut him a little slack, please?’ She leant in for a kiss and James pulled her further under the covers.

  Ludovic took the hint and retreated to the kitchen.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next few weeks passed by and Annie and James settled into their new world, creating their own little routines – mundane to most people but new and exciting to them. Annie had mentioned to Kirsty that if Duncan could steer away from cricket and politics then the two men might stand a chance of being able to stay in the same room as one another. As a result, Annie began to involve James in social activities with the rest of the gang and James, in turn, made every effort to be polite and engaging. Annie knew they would never be best friends but James did seem to be more tolerant of him.

  ‘The way I see it, James, it’s like establishing certain rules of engagement and if both parties comply then negotiations can be conducted and concluded in a civil manner and to the satisfaction of both parties.’

  ‘Ever the lawyer.’ They were walking out on a chill December day to Annie’s mother’s for Sunday lunch; another little routine that seemed to be gaining some traction.

  ‘Strangely enough, Duncan and I are finding common cause in objecting to the new retail park.’

  ‘Good God, James. How could you? And all the while Yugoslavia is crumbling. To think I thought you were a man of principle.’ They laughed and clung on to each other’s winter coats.

  *

  She had decided to tell her mother about James a few weeks earlier. At the time she wondered if her delivery had been a bit too harsh but then she couldn’t see any other way to break the news. It was time. Time to start letting someone into her life. There was to be no discussion, it was what it was and Annie didn’t want to explain or justify anything anymore.

  ‘It’s your life, Annie. Nothing to do with me.’ The response had been sharp and laced with a hint of spite. ‘It’s just, you know – just be careful.’

  No discussion, no justification, that’s what she’d promised herself. They were in her mother’s kitchen putting away some shopping. All conversation had stopped. The rustling sound of plastic bags being emptied and cupboard doors being opened then slammed shut filled the quiet space until Annie could bear it no longer.

  ‘Look, Mum, I don’t know how this is going to turn out but I can’t worry myself silly about it. Everyone thinks I’m fine as I am – busy job, busy life. But I can see with James that there’s more – that I can have more, I mean.’

  ‘Well, as I said, just be careful.’ Her mother carried on with her chores and never once looked round at her daughter.

  Annie finally felt the painfully tight ties loosen – the ties that had bound mother and daughter together since her father had left so many years ago. She couldn’t really know how Helen had gone about assimilating this new information but much to Annie’s surprise she turned into charm itself when it came to James. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed it but James eased into Helen’s life as much as he’d eased into Annie’s.

  ‘Annie, darling, lovely to see you. My, you look worn out. Have you been working too hard?’ Helen gave Annie a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and then turned away, leading them both off into the lounge. ‘I’m always telling her, James, they work her far too hard in that office.’

  They both ignored Helen’s remarks. It was merely a slight variation on the same theme that greeted Annie every time she came to visit.

  James followed behind the two Anderson ladies. ‘Hello, Mrs Anderson, lovely to see you. You’re looking well.’

  Annie sensed he was being facetious and turned to give him a warning stare.

  ‘Would you be a dear, James, and pour the sherries?’ Helen asked him, nodding towards the highly polished sideboard, upon which various decanted spirits and wines sat.

  ‘Happy to.’

  ‘Now, I’ve been meaning to ask you two what the plans are for Christmas. I’m assuming you want to be alone so that’s absolutely fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll make do here or I can pop round to the McHargs.’

  ‘James and I have been talking about exactly that, funnily enough, and we thought it would be lovely to spend our first Christmas together – at home.’

  Helen’s face fell. That wasn’t how she’d rehearsed this little scene, thought Annie. It was cruel, she knew, but for some reason, Annie waited just long enough to allow Helen to process the response and what it would mean for her.

  ‘And of course we would want you with us.’

  Helen relaxed. ‘Well, if you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.’ Both women sat, mirror images of each other, hands clasped in front of them.

  ‘Of course you wouldn’t be. We were always going to ask you, weren’t we, James?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ James handed out the sherries and Annie sensed his discomfort as the awkward mini drama played out between mother and daughter.

  Sunday lunch passed off without further incident and as they walked home early evening, James suggested a quick drink in the Dean Hotel. Annie enjoyed hotel lounges like the Dean. The hotel facade blended perfectly into the tall, elegant houses situated the length of Clarendon Crescent. She always felt as though she was just nipping into a very wealthy old aunt’s drawing room for a quick reviver. Annie settled down onto the plush red velvet sofa in front of a roaring fire and, as it was a bitterly cold evening, James ordered two Whisky Macs.

  ‘Do you mind me asking what that was all about?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Annie was savouring the warmth of the whisky and ginger wine as it began to reheat her body.

  ‘What was a
ll that with your mother? I thought you were just going to ask her along for Christmas Day and then you seemed to act out some weird little game with her.’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry. It’s what we do. Think it’s what we’ve always done. Everything’s played out as a little scene.’ Annie laughed unconvincingly. ‘Don’t worry it’s never enough to cause any lasting damage.’

  James just stared.

  ‘I know it’s not normal but that’s what it’s been like between the two of us for as long as I can remember. Well, certainly since Dad left. Occasionally there’s a burst of spontaneous normality but not that often.’ She smiled up at him, suddenly realising how peculiarly warped that had all sounded.

  Annie had never tried to describe these exchanges before. She wanted him to know exactly how it was, how it had always been, but at the same time she was desperate for him not to think badly of her.

  ‘It must be exhausting. What I don’t understand is, if it’s so painful, why do you subject yourself to it. Why do you see so much of each other?’

  Annie looked up at him, perplexed. ‘She’s my mother, James, and I love her – dearly. It’s just that none of it has ever quite gone away. I mean all the stuff that happened with Dad. We just never seem to be able to quite forgive each other.’

  ‘No, maybe not but all the same – there’s no need to go on hurting each other.’

  *

  James’s words stayed with her but everyday life carried on and Christmas and Helen were soon put to the back of her mind. Annie had a couple of tribunal cases running in tandem, a criminal prosecution at the Sheriff Court to prepare for and all needed her undivided attention. Luckily James’s work also appeared to be full-on to the extent that he was often at the office until late in the evening and occasionally at weekends. Late one afternoon he called Annie to tell her he was going to stay over at his own flat, perhaps for a couple of days. He had a lot of reading to do and really needed to get his head round some key policy issues that were coming up. Annie understood, of course. Her own workload was starting to get out of hand – but something niggled.