Highland Fling

by Anna Larner

  Moira gave a faint nod and took a long, guarded sip of her tea. What’s on your mind, old lady?

  “So the course is going well?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, good. And you’ll be finished soon, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, good.” Elizabeth took a sip of her tea.

  Moira stood, deliberately disrupting the momentum of questions, and went over to the sitting room window, which faced over the road to the woods behind. “Your front driver’s tyre’s a little flat.”

  “Has something happened?” Elizabeth asked cautiously, her voice quieter.

  “No, you’ve likely just run it down over time.” Moira knew fully well that Elizabeth wasn’t talking about the Fiesta.

  “Before you say anything, I know it’s none of my business. It’s just…Alice noticed—”

  “Alice?” Moira looked to Elizabeth. “Noticed what? What does Alice think she noticed?”

  “Nothing, Moira. Nothing. It’s simply that Alice noticed that you’ve hardly been home this last fortnight, and that you seem to be a little distracted, not quite yourself.”

  Moira collected the half-empty mugs, taking them into the kitchen. She called through to the sitting room, “If Alice is concerned about anything, please tell her to ask me directly next time.”

  Elizabeth followed Moira into the kitchen.

  Moira stood at the sink, leaning against the worktop, looking down.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Elizabeth said, standing next to Moira and stroking her arm. “It’s just that I don’t like to see you so—”

  “I’m fine, really. I’m just busy, that’s all, and perhaps a little tired. There’s no need to worry about me.”

  “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.” Returning to the sitting room, taking her coat and putting her shoes back on, Elizabeth held out her hand to Moira, who lent her arm to help her friend steady herself.

  “Thank you for calling by.” Moira’s voice had relaxed slightly. “I’m sorry if I snapped at you. It’s been a long week.”

  Elizabeth gave her girl a hug. “If you need to talk.”

  “Thank you.”

  What could she say to those people in her life who meant so much? How could she say, I am sad because I am missing and longing for a woman I hardly know, and will likely never meet again? How could she say that but then add, But I’m fine and I’m still the same? In fact, Moira thought as she slumped in her armchair and listened to Angus and Elizabeth drive off, how on earth could she say it to herself?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Victorian façade of the City Library greeted Eve every day. She loved the old building, its quirks, its readers, and the shabby honesty of it all.

  Nursing her recent heartbreak, Eve was only too happy to lose herself amongst the shelves of dusty books, the endless wooden drawers, and the soft tapping of catalogue keyboards. Time passed unmarked, unnoticed. This was the place in which to forget, as hours away from Moira slipped to become a day, days merged to form a week, and weeks blurred to a month.

  “Local Community Action—Eve, didn’t you go on holiday to Scotland recently?” asked Eve’s colleague, Mrs. Harris.

  Eve was buried in a family history search. She immediately looked up at Mrs. Harris’s question. “Yes, why?”

  “Well there’s a talk here at the library, a week on Friday, by an Alice Campbell from”—Mrs. Harris lifted her glasses out in front of her face and squinted—“Newland. Well that doesn’t sound very Scottish. It’s an Eco-House initiative partnership apparently.” Mrs. Harris lingered slightly over the word Eco-House to emphasize her inherent mistrust of anything hippy.

  Eve said quickly, her voice squeezed in her throat, “Can I see?”

  Mrs. Harris held out the leaflet in Eve’s direction, releasing an impatient sigh when Eve scrabbled to pick up the files she had dropped on the dusty parquet floor.

  “I do not know, Eve, if they spring these ad hoc events at us, how they can expect us to be ready, really. I’ll bet they’ll ask me to work late, and I’ve told them, I’ve my daughter’s little ones to care for. What do they expect?” Mrs. Harris closed her eyes and pinched at the bridge of her nose.

  Eve stared at the leaflet, picking out every word for deliberation as if it were an ancient script which if deciphered would unlock answers to life’s ageless, unanswered mysteries. Scenic rather than revelatory, a picture of mountains and the symbol of a thistle bordered the simple text: Come and learn about the massive difference one small community has made in the Highlands.

  Eve felt dizzy and sank into the chair behind the reception desk. The chair rolled away from the desk on its castors as Eve made no attempt to stop its travel.

  “Are you okay, Eve? You’ve gone quite pale.” Mrs. Harris’s tone carried a note of irritation rather than concern.

  Eve’s hand covered her mouth. She gave a muffled, “Yes, I probably need my lunch.”

  “Is it that time already? Okay, see you at two o’clock.”

  Eve rushed from her seat to leave, with her jumper tied around her waist, her lunch box under one arm, and the leaflet folded tight in the fist of her hand.

  She headed out into the town square, finding an empty bench in the shade. She read the leaflet for a second time. The talk was the last of a handful of presentations by the Newland Trust taking place throughout the Midlands region. There was no mention of Moira. Alice was the point of contact. Would Alice remember her? Should she ask after Moira? Would Moira be there? Eve had a thousand questions spinning in her head. None of which, she knew, would be answered unless she attended the talk. She needed to think, and she needed her best friend to help.

  *

  Eve had enticed Roxanne around to hers with the promise of generous bowls of home-made dessert.

  “Bread and butter pudding—this must be serious.” Roxanne crammed so much pudding into her mouth that talking was as much chewing as speaking.

  As if she’d suddenly put two and two together, Roxanne spluttered, “It’s whatsherface, isn’t it? You rang her again, didn’t you? What did she say? Are you seeing her again?”

  Eve solemnly shook her head. “There didn’t seem to be any point.”

  “Well, you know, holiday romances—they tend to come to nothing. It’s not you or anything, Evie. It’s just one of those things. You might as well forget it.”

  “That’s the thing, in spite of everything, I don’t want to forget it. I don’t want to forget her.”

  Roxanne shook her head and, speaking through another mouthful of pudding, said, “Whatever…so what’s this about then? If it’s not her?”

  “It is her, at least, I think it’s Moira.”

  “Do you know what I think would go well with our pudding?” Roxanne’s eyes had grown dangerously wide.

  “Cream?”

  “No. Gin and lots of it.”

  Roxanne set her bowl aside and grabbed two glasses, poured two double measures of gin into each, and added a token slosh of slightly flat tonic.

  Eve raised her eyebrows. “I’ve got work in the morning, Rox.”

  “So have I, drink up.” Roxanne slumped into Eve’s armchair, and with her pudding bowl resting on her stomach, she took a deep breath and reluctantly asked, “So what exactly do you mean you think it’s Moira?”

  Eve handed Roxanne the leaflet.

  “Local Community Action. Blah-blah-blah.” Roxanne shrugged. Eve gestured for her to read on. “What? Really? No way. Here in Leicester?” Roxanne looked at Eve. “What the fuck?”

  “It only mentions Alice, she’s her colleague—there’s no mention of Moira.” Eve took the leaflet from Roxanne and reread it again, just to be sure. “There would be no reason for Alice to come to see me, would there? I mean unless—do you think something’s happened? Oh no, Rox, what if something’s happened to Moira?”

  “Slow down, slow down. Firstly, what makes you think that Alice even knows about you and fanny flaps? Secon
dly, and don’t be offended, but even if she did know that you two had sex, I can’t imagine she would go to the effort of fabricating a talk to come and tell you that Moira’s snuffed it.”

  “Please don’t say that, Rox.”

  “No, no mate, I’m sure Moira’s fine.”

  Eve perched on the edge of her sofa, staring at the leaflet. Roxanne leant over and tugged it out of Eve’s hand. “Either way, this can’t go on, Eve. I don’t know—you need to try and get some resolution or something. And, if not, find a way to get her out of your system. It’s boring, Evie.” Roxanne fake yawned to make the point.

  “Will you come with me then, to the talk? Rox?”

  “Couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do, mate.” Roxanne rolled her eyes and headed to the kitchen. “I’m having more gin.”

  *

  The talk seemed ages away. Roxanne did her best to distract Eve. They watched films back-to-back, all action, all engrossing, no romance—Roxanne had insisted. Eve had also cleaned her flat from top to bottom. Twice.

  “That’s enough,” Roxanne shouted, as she lifted her legs as Eve attempted to vacuum under the sofa.

  “It’s just if she comes back to my flat, I want it to be nice, you know, for her to feel comfortable.”

  Roxanne pulled out the plug from the wall and grumbled, “I doubt she’ll make her decision about your future together based on whether you’ve vacuumed behind your wardrobe. This is new.” Roxanne held up a framed photo of Loch View and Foxglove Croft, and asked, “Is that her house?”

  Eve took the photo from Roxanne and nodded. “I thought, well, it would show her that I—”

  “Can take a blurry photo?”

  “It was taken from the loch, on a boat, and it was a surprisingly quick tourist boat, thank you very much. I was going to say, that I wanted it to show her that I remember our time together.”

  “Right. Well, it looks like you’re ready.” Roxanne gazed at Eve’s flat, every surface dusted, every soft furnishing freshly plumped and preened.

  “I hope she comes, Rox.”

  “I know, mate, I know.”

  Truth be told, Roxanne didn’t know. She didn’t know what Eve would do if Moira wasn’t there at the talk. She didn’t know why out of the blue Moira’s Newland Trust would come to their city. What did that say about this Moira woman that she needed such an elaborate excuse to come to see Eve, when the simplest thing would be to pick up the phone? Things didn’t make sense to Roxanne. Nothing about Eve and Moira made sense.

  *

  When the evening of the talk eventually arrived, Eve was exhausted. She felt rough and sick with nerves as she climbed the stairs to the first floor of the library.

  “For God’s sake, go and say hello. I’m right behind you.” Roxanne’s tone made it clear that Eve had no choice.

  “Alice?” Eve tapped Alice on her shoulder.

  Alice spun around, her face flushed. It struck Eve that Alice’s expression at the sight of her was like watching someone’s reaction to their newly deceased pet hamster being dug up and brought in through the cat flap by the family cat.

  “Hi, it’s Eve. Eddison. I don’t know whether you remember me—my family, we holidayed in Newland last month? So, well, I thought I’d say hello.”

  Alice shook her head in a way that suggested she was trying to rid herself of the image of Eve. “I’m sorry. I can’t say I really remember you, we get loads of visitors.” Alice quickly returned to assembling the equipment for her talk.

  “Oh, I know, they’re a nightmare,” Eve said, gesturing towards the collapsed projector screen which Alice was fighting in vain to erect. “Here, we’ll help you.”

  Roxanne gave Eve a look that meant, Really, we’re helping this rude cow?

  Alice replied coldly, “If you like,” turning her attention to the laptop, leaving Eve and Roxanne to struggle with the screen.

  “What’s the deal with her?” Roxanne half whispered to Eve.

  Eve shrugged. “Dunno. She was like it in Scotland. I get the impression she thinks I’m ridiculous.”

  “Yes, so do I, but I don’t treat you like that. Uptight bitch. You don’t suppose…”

  “What?” Eve asked, at the same time wrestling with the screen.

  “She’s not Moira’s girlfriend, is she?”

  Eve let go of the screen, which snapped back closed, narrowly missing Roxanne’s fingers. “What, Alice? God, no. I mean…shit. Nah.”

  “Okay.” Roxanne sounded unconvinced. “Well, I definitely get a whiff of something.”

  Fixing the final clips to the screen, Eve nodded in the direction of the audience. “Grab us a seat, Rox, near the front.”

  Roxanne looked at Eve and then Alice, and moved away, finding two seats near the back.

  Alice held the plug of a power cable in her hand and was looking around her for a suitable socket.

  “Let me, I work here.” Eve held out her hand for the cable.

  Alice narrowed her eyes at Eve. “You work here?”

  “Yes, I’ll just need to find a socket for you.” Eve crawled under the table and grappled with the inset socket in the carpet. Okay, so what’s so surprising about me working here?

  “That looks awkward.”

  The voice from above the table sounded uncannily familiar.

  “Moira?” As Eve rushed to free herself, she bashed her head on the table. Eve emerged flushed and rubbing her head.

  “Hello, Eve.”

  Moira?

  Alice cleared her throat loudly, then half whispered with a hiss to Moira, “Did you know she worked here, that she was going to be here?”

  “Let’s begin, Alice, yes?” Moira took her seat at the end of the first row.

  Eve could sense that Alice was watching her take her place next to Roxanne.

  “So that’s Moira, eh?” Roxanne asked, adding, “She actually came.”

  “Yep.” Eve was breathing heavily. “Yep.”

  Alice’s talk was surprisingly well attended, considering it was taking place in an industrial Midlands city where any greenery was mainly of a token value for the purpose of showing off concrete buildings. Eve didn’t take in much of the talk. She just sat and stared at the back of Moira’s head.

  “So, counted every grey hair then?” Roxanne smirked.

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Why aren’t you sitting with her?”

  “She might not want me to.” Eve shrugged. “In any case I feel a bit embarrassed.”

  Roxanne frowned. “You’ve had sex outside and this is more embarrassing because…?”

  “Oh my God, Rox, could you say that any louder.” Eve sank a little into her chair.

  Roxanne joined in loudly with the clapping that signalled the end of the talk. People were gathering around Alice who was handing them various leaflets. As Moira began packing up the equipment, Roxanne grabbed Eve’s arm and ushered her to the front.

  “Great talk, great talk.” Roxanne stood face to face with Moira. “I’m Roxanne, Eve’s best friend.”

  “Hello, Roxanne, I’m Moira.” Moira looked directly back at Roxanne, and extended her hand.

  Roxanne paused before shaking Moira’s hand. “We’re going to dinner at Carluccio’s. Eve was wondering if you would like to join us.”

  Eve raised her eyebrows at Roxanne’s impromptu invitation and quickly said, “Of course, if you have plans, then that’s fine.”

  Roxanne stood firmly on Eve’s foot.

  Moira whispered something inaudible to Alice.

  Alice scrunched her nose. “I suppose so, but I thought we were eating in the hotel.”

  “Great.” Roxanne grinned enthusiastically. “We’ll help you pack up. In fact, why don’t you two go ahead to the restaurant, grab a table for us. Alice and I will follow on, yeah?” Roxanne rested her hand on Eve’s shoulder.

  Alice gasped with barely concealed panic. “No, I need Moira to—”

  “I can do that, Alice. We’ll be rig
ht behind you.” Roxanne held her thumbs in the air at Moira.

  “It would be good to talk to you.” Eve touched Moira’s arm. “If you want?”

  Moira glanced briefly at Alice and then nodded.

  “Great. See you in a bit. Oh, Evie,” Roxanne shouted after Eve, “order me a large white wine.”

  Eve turned around to see Roxanne standing with her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the piles of bags, folders, and equipment scattered over the floor. “Okay, will do, Rox. Thanks.”

  *

  “I don’t know why they couldn’t just wait for us. Oh, no way, it’s pouring it down.” Alice rummaged around in her bag for her umbrella.

  Roxanne was trying to balance screen, folder, and leaflets in her arms, whilst holding her jacket over her head.

  “It’s just here.” Alice opened the back door of Moira’s Land Rover which had been parked behind a barrier in the library’s car park. “They said it could stay here until morning. I’ve left the laptop in their office. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

  “So you’ve known Moira long then?” Roxanne asked, sliding the screen into the boot.

  Alice frowned with barely concealed irritation. “What?” It was as if Roxanne had asked her the most ridiculous question.

  “Moira—you’ve known her long?”

  “Yes.” Alice paused, clearly exasperated. “Since I was seven. We moved in with her, and then a few years later she became my stepmum.”

  Roxanne dropped her coat from her head. The rain splashed into her face. “Your stepmum?”

  Alice slammed the door shut and looked at Roxanne with a withering expression. Speaking deliberately slowly, she said, “Stepmum, you know, married to my dad.”

  “Fuck me.” Roxanne leant against the Land Rover. Oh my God, Eve. Roxanne looked in the direction of the street which led to the restaurant, which led to Eve and Moira.

  “Are we going?” Alice asked, screwing up her face at Roxanne.

  “What? Yeah, sure.”

  Chapter Sixteen