A Trick of the Light

by Ali Carter

  Fergus got up and leant over our table. ‘Everyone okay?’

  Some of us smiled.

  ‘I take full responsibility for bringing you to this and I’m sorry. We could leave now if you want?’

  ‘I’m not leaving,’ said Shane.

  ‘Me neither,’ said Lianne.

  The waitress arrived with a tray of drinks.

  ‘Looks like we’re here for the second half then,’ said Fergus. ‘Felicity, Jane, are you both all right?’

  ‘We’ll stick it out,’ said Jane.

  Then, suddenly, the room turned bright purple and Britney Spears’s ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’ came bursting down our ear drums.

  The moment we had come for had arrived. Louis nudged my shoulder and I slipped my hand under the table and squeezed his knee.

  ‘It’s Cailey,’ shouted Shane.

  In a PVC catsuit with a provocative zip right down the front, Cailey Baird stood proud at the centre of the stage. Swinging her hips to the beat of the intro she curled the tail of a whip at her platformed feet.

  ‘Oh baby, baby, I shouldn’t have let you go,’ she screamed at the top of her voice and then with a sudden crack of the whip, shocking us all, she shouted the words, ‘And now you’re out of sight, yeah.’

  Cailey took the whip handle between her teeth and turned her back on the audience as the song got louder. Then with her behind on full display, black PVC straining, she flung her top half towards the floor. Bent double in front of us all, her arms, slowly, slowly, to the beat of the music, started to stretch through her straddled legs. Britney’s voice singing ‘Hit me baby one more time’ came out of the speakers and Cailey’s firm hands grasped hold of her buttocks.

  The crowd roared, high voices and low, coaxing her on in her act. ‘Go girl!’ ‘That’s more like it!’ ‘Nice arse!’ ‘Show us your tits!’

  I don’t know if it was part of the plan or if it was the hype from the audience that encouraged Cailey. But here she was, on stage, looking as if she might strip her kit off. Her right hand tugged at the zip on the front of her suit. Down it went, her unclad bosoms popping out, following which, with the most provocative shoulders I’ve ever seen, she wriggled the whole thing off her waist. I didn’t for the life of me think she wouldn’t have any knickers on but as the PVC was peeled to the floor, a bare naked Cailey was revealed.

  The eruption of cheers, whoops, wolf-whistles and screams rose above the music as the onlookers lost control.

  Louis prodded me and nodded his head at the stag’s table. There was a chap, with pink Y-fronts over his jeans, being pushed towards the stage by one of his friends. Cailey, catching what was happening, thrust her pelvis towards him as he began to stagger.

  Jane shot up to standing, quickly followed by Felicity. ‘We’ll be waiting in the bus. I can’t bear this any longer.’

  For some reason I felt responsible and found myself getting up with them. But when the lights went down and the music stopped all three of us waited to see what everyone else had to say.

  Rupert leant in between Lianne and Shane. ‘If you’re going, Jane, I think I’ll come too.’

  ‘I’m afraid,’ said Fergus, ‘I think we should all leave, it’s too cold to keep people waiting in the bus.’

  Not even Shane objected and to be honest I think all of us were embarrassed to be watching this together. It’d be different with friends, you could laugh no matter what, but here we were all sitting rigid in our chairs.

  Toby stood up to say goodbye. It was a nice touch from a man who’s ignored me for the most part of the last seven months. The woman on the door was no longer there and Donald, wrapped up in hat and gloves, looked so pleased to see us at last.

  Fergus insisted I had the front seat, which meant I ended up next to him and not in the back with everyone else.

  ‘Youse had a good time did youse?’ said Donald to Fergus.

  ‘Yes, such fun.’

  ‘Looked an awfully lot of people.’

  ‘It was full. Funny we hadn’t heard about it till the model told us.’

  ‘I heard something about it but dinee think to mention it. Youse not been out locally afore and I dinee really get the gist of the advert in the pub, said something I could nee read, the word began with b and had a q in it, wee a twist.’

  ‘Do you and Mhàiri ever go to local shows?’

  ‘We take the grandkids to the pantomime at Christmas but that’s aboot it.’

  Fergus turned to me and full of enthusiasm he said, ‘I liked your friend. A lot.’

  ‘Toby?’

  ‘Yes. He loves Scotland, doesn’t he?’

  ‘I never knew. We know each other from the south.’

  ‘Which makes it all the more amusing you bumping into each other tonight.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, trying to sound cheerful.

  ‘I hope you’ll be pleased to hear, I invited him to join our ceilidh tomorrow.’

  I gave a massive grin. I’m a pretty good liar when I have to be.

  ‘I knew you’d be happy. He was delighted.’

  I stared straight out the windscreen feeling absolutely wretched. The last person in the world I want to spend a night with is Toby. The headlights showed up one bend after another, never a long enough straight to get a clear view ahead. We were on a country lane in the middle of nowhere yet somehow, in some unfortunate way, Toby Cropper had wriggled his way back into my life.

  ‘Well,’ said Fergus, ‘as we’re a man short it couldn’t have worked out better.’

  ‘What about Ewen?’

  ‘I had thought about that but Zoe tells me he’s going away.’

  ‘Away?’

  ‘Yes, no idea where.’

  I felt mildly smug at the thought it was me who’d encouraged Ewen to spread his wings.

  Shane’s voice came hurtling into the front. ‘Are we nearly there yet?’

  Fergus looked at Donald. ‘Aboot another twenty-five minutes or so.’

  ‘What’s that?’ called out Shane. ‘We can’t hear you, Rupert’s snoring.’

  Fergus turned his head towards the back. ‘We’ll be home in twenty-five minutes.’

  ‘Good,’ said Lianne. ‘I’m ready for bed.’

  ‘Fergus,’ I whispered, making sure Donald’s aged eardrums couldn’t hear, ‘I’m a bit worried about tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘It’s just, I don’t know how to put it, I’ve been thinking, tonight and all.’

  ‘What is it, Susie?’

  ‘I don’t think Cailey should continue to model for us.’

  ‘Okay. You’re the tutor,’ he said merrily. ‘Although I did book her for the week.’

  ‘In all truth with the image of her from tonight in their mind, it would be very difficult, probably impossible, for anyone to concentrate on life drawing.’

  ‘I hadn’t realised there was a difference but I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘Thank you. I hope I haven’t caused a problem.’

  ‘Zoe’s bound to have a solution so don’t worry about that.’

  Donald’s driving was cautious to a fault and when we eventually reached Auchen Laggan Tosh’s front drive he travelled so slowly up it you’d have thought he was doing his very best to avoid coming to the end of the journey.

  ‘Donald,’ I said, ‘I’m so sorry I never thanked you for putting on my spare tyre. Thank you.’

  ‘Mhàiri passed on yer wishes.’

  ‘Yes, but I really should have said something earlier.’

  ‘Dinee ye worry, Susie. It was my pleasure.’

  ‘Here we are,’ said Fergus.

  Donald finally parked the bus and we all tumbled out, ready for bed.

  Louis grasped my hand on the way upstairs and told me I needed to come and ‘get that thing from his room’. Obviously, he was making it up, but I was on board.

  ‘So, what do you want to drink?’ he said as soon as we entered.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Come on,’
he pleaded. ‘Just one.’

  ‘Okay, one small glass of whisky and soda.’

  ‘Great. I’ll be back in a sec.’ He kicked off his shoes, flashed me a smile and tiptoed out the door.

  I sat down on the very large double bed and swung my legs, grinning to myself about the childish situation here. I feel like a teenager, not quite knowing what’s on the cards but excited about being alone together.

  ‘Pour toi.’ He thrust a glass into my hand.

  ‘Which language do you prefer? French? English?’

  ‘I grew up in France. I went to university in England. When you have English and you have French, there is no comparison – French every time.’

  He drifted across the room and picked up his camera. ‘You look so beautiful, I’m going to take a picture of you.’

  ‘Don’t be so silly.’ I put my hand over my face.

  ‘Pleeeease,’ he started to fiddle with the filters, ‘you need a photo on your website.’

  I felt flattered he’d looked me up, and found myself smiling at him rather than hiding my face. Blast, the black shutter began to blink and I lost count of the number of pictures he was taking.

  ‘Stop it.’

  ‘Shh, shh, no need to shout.’

  He sat down beside me and the cushy mattress gave way. We both shuffled backwards giggling like children, doing our best not to fall off it.

  ‘Can I see those photographs?’

  ‘Sure.’ He pushed the play button and held the screen towards me.

  ‘Stop. You have to delete that one, I look awful.’

  ‘No you don’t, just shy. People always look a bit odd when they’re caught unrelaxed.’

  ‘Exactly, so delete it. Please.’ I grappled with his fingers and won. ‘I trust you’ll delete it from the recycle bin?’

  ‘You have to trust me; relationships are built on trust.’

  ‘But you’re French.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘French men always have at least two lovers.’

  ‘Both of whom trust him,’ he laughed.

  ‘Can I see all the pictures you took of me?’

  ‘Please?’

  ‘Please.’

  Louis handed me the camera and collapsed back on the bed.

  Whoops, the dial spun and spun, many images whizzed by, and then suddenly they stopped on a rather lovely detail of heather.

  ‘This is beautiful.’

  Louis leant forwards. ‘Oh that, it’s nothing. Give it here.’

  He obviously felt emasculated by such a pretty picture.

  ‘I’m going to take charge of sifting through from now on.’

  There were several terrible pictures of me and with a lot of persuasion I got him to delete them all.

  ‘Why did you sign up to this course?’ I asked as he went to put his camera down.

  ‘I wanted to meet you.’

  ‘Rubbish.’

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  He picked up a sheet of paper from his dressing table and sped-read aloud: ‘Susie Mahl is a figurative painter trained at the Ruskin School of Art. She is best known for her oil paintings but takes commissions for pet portraits. Her love of landscape and nature makes her well placed to teach this course. She’s fun-loving, full of energy and is in no doubt that the richness and variety of Scotland’s natural heritage will provide an infinite source of inspiration to all artists attending the residency.’

  ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘It was part of the starter pack. Ewen sent it to me and I thought, why not.’

  ‘You were lucky to get a place.’

  ‘I sent in a photograph with my application.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  He laughed. ‘Of course I didn’t. Though I did say I’d like to give some more money towards it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. I think it’s a very good idea.’

  ‘That’s so generous.’ I suddenly felt awkward knowing Louis must be rich. I didn’t want him to think that’s why I was keen.

  He immediately made me feel at ease. ‘I’m lucky enough to have some money to give away and when I heard about the sponsored places I thought it was a good cause. I would never have told you if you hadn’t asked. But please, keep it to yourself.’

  ‘Of course.’ I smiled; it felt nice him opening up to me.

  ‘Another drink?’

  ‘No, no, I must go to bed.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  Louis followed me to the door, and as I stretched for the handle he lightly wrapped his fingers round my right shoulder. Ever so delicately he motioned my chin towards his and as his hands felt for my cheeks he pressed his lips against mine with the most loving, soft, passionate kiss. I adored every moment of it and when he drew away he stretched his hand out and opened the door wishing me, ‘Bonne nuit, mon amie,’ on my way out.

  I turned into the corridor with an incredibly happy feeling inside. There’s nothing like a snog to perk one up, and I sauntered into my bedroom with my head in a hazy cloud of romance, until the blasted floorboard tripped me up again. Falling to my knees, full of confusion, I lay thinking, there must be a reason it’s come loose. Then assuming it wasn’t a trick on me – everyone’s too grown up for April Fool behaviour – I began to wonder why.

  I reckon it happened today, when Rupert and I were out walking – the timings make sense. Perhaps something was hidden and someone came to get it…Maybe it was Zoe? She could have stashed something in here when she stayed as a child or heard treasure was in the house and searched the locked wing last night and this corridor this morning. Unlikely – surely she’d do it when the house’s empty?

  Maybe Mhàiri accidentally sucked the board up with her Hoover and struggled to put it firmly back in place? Or, Fergus could have been looking into the electrics, it might be to do with that? I’ve never sleepwalked before, so it’s highly unlikely but I suppose I might have done something in my sleep.

  I stood up and got ready for bed and as I brushed my teeth then put on my nightie, progressively more absurd thoughts flew off the top of my head: Haggis had scratched the board until it came loose; Louis had tried to hide a present for me; a squirrel had sneaked into my room; the ravens somehow caused the problem; the teddy bear had come to life; the two-faced man in the painting had walked out the canvas.

  I grasped my mobile and turned on the torch. Then, straddling the void in the floor, I bent right down and peered in the illuminated hole. A tiny speck in one corner sparkled back and I felt all zingy inside as I grabbed my tweezers to pluck it out.

  A hard, pale, yellowish lozenge about five millimetres in length is now in the palm of my hand. Considering where I’ve found it, it’s probably a jewel from a doll. But, no matter how insignificant, I’m excited to get to the bottom of who’s been here and what they’ve taken out.

  Right now, though, I must sleep. I can’t be a hung over, tired tutor tomorrow. So, I popped the jewel in my jewellery case, replaced the floorboard and jumped into bed.

  I’m lying in the dark, imagining Louis in his huge double bed. ‘Mon amie,’ I whispered with a smile. How much fun to have a Highland fling. Nothing long term, I don’t want to be hurt again. I’ve lost my faith in finding true love. Lost it because of Toby. Oh Toby. Why are you tipping up here tomorrow night? How could you have accepted without asking me?

  Grrrrrrr. I kicked a leg out from under the duvet. The more I think about it the more I cannot believe he’s gatecrashing my fresh start.

  My morning alarm woke me with a fright. Where am I? Home? No. Scotland. It’s morning. Really? Yes, morning. That was far too short a night. I reached for the snooze button and promptly fell fast asleep again.

  Ten minutes later it began to beep. Unfortunately, I really had to get up now. I went to the bathroom and splashed my face with freezing water. Then, gently slapping my cheeks trying to get some colour, I whizzed through the hurdles I had to get over today – replacing l
ife drawing with another activity; finding time to take my car to the garage; spending the evening with Toby; mastering the art of Scottish reeling. Oh God, give me strength for the day ahead.

  I hurried back to my room and pulled on my clothes. I needed to give myself as much time as I could to put on my face. The late nights were taking their toll and my puffy eyes had terrible bags.

  By the time I rushed downstairs I was behind schedule and last into breakfast. There’s nothing like a hangover to heighten hunger. Even Minty was eating salty porridge this morning. I sat down with a bowl of my own and Louis, all the way up the other end of the table, gave me a nod. I smiled back, not too much, just enough to get rid of any awkwardness. The great thing about hitting your thirties is you simply don’t get that self-conscious nausea after a romantic escapade. It plagued my teens and my twenties when I often did things just to have done them and then felt desperately awkward the morning after a fumble. I’m not saying it wasn’t good fun or that every boy who passed my lips was purely for practice. Just that the I-know-what-I’m-doing mature self now makes it so much less embarrassing at moments like this.

  The breakfast conversation was buzzing with last night’s show.

  ‘Fergus told me all about it,’ said Zoe.

  ‘Did he tell you Cailey got her kit off?’ shouted Shane.

  ‘Yes, enough of that.’

  ‘Not sure how I feel about drawing her today,’ said Jane.

  ‘You took the words straight out my mouth,’ said Rupert.

  ‘It won’t be a problem,’ said Fergus, staring at his wife.

  ‘Not at all. As you all showed such enthusiasm for drawing Highland cows, we’ve cancelled the life class and this morning you’ll be out in the field instead.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ said Shane.

  ‘Yeah, I’d much rather be outside,’ said Lianne. ‘Means we don’t have to listen to Louis’ jazz.’

  ‘What would you prefer? R&B?’

  ‘Anything but jazz.’

  ‘I hear you were on stage last night, Lianne,’ said Zoe.