by Morgan Rouge
Gerry had asked her a couple of questions, but all that Bryony could say without showing any emotion was that she wasn’t sure what was wrong with Hamish. Which, of course, was a small, white, lie. She had no idea what was wrong with him. Why had he enjoyed so thoroughly dancing with her to then just ignore her and positively hate her for the rest of the time? She was confused and upset.
Friday had come and went: Bryony had been full of hope that Hamish might apologise for his behaviour, maybe he would tell her what the problem was. But, no. He had ignored her, shouted and thrown her angry glances all day. They had all left, vowing to meet at 9 in the morning the next day to go hill walking. They all knew where they going and would take sandwiches with them on the walk.
So, she had left on Friday, having finished her community service. She felt that she should be glad, but she just felt confused and irritated by Hamish’s behaviour. Why couldn’t he just speak to her like a normal person and tell her what the matter was?
She hit the pillow. The sun had not even risen and already she was thinking about Hamish and all the hurt and confusion which she caused him and he had caused her. What could it be?
She looked at her alarm clock, which sat on the bedside table next to her bed. 6.45. She should probably try to get up and make some coffee, she was due to go hill walking for Gerry today.
She had managed to phone up all manner of relatives, friends from old workplaces and school and university to bring together a couple of hundred pounds for Gerry’s cancer charity. She smiled as she considered the generousness of all the people whom she knew: they had all been willing to give in aid of her walk. She felt privileged to be their friend or family member. Of course, she hadn’t told them exactly how she met Gerry but she had told them all about him and his new lust for life. She thought that they would understand that.
‘Pony!’ Bryony banged into Pony just as she came out of her room, ‘what are you doing up at this time Pony?’ asked Bryony, between yawns.
‘Oh you know...’ her voice trailed off, a small smile on her lips.
‘Pony!’ Bryony whispered ‘do you have....?’
‘Company? I couldn’t possibly say!’
‘Who? Who? Who?’ Bryony jumped from one foot to the other as she said these words.
‘Do you remember Phil?’
‘Of course I remember Phil! How could I not? The model!’
‘Well, he came round late last night to discuss a couple of things and well he ended up staying the night’.
‘And...?’
‘No, but he wants to take me on a date...!’ Bryony hugged Pony. How wonderful! She mouthed. ‘We will text’ mouthed Pony back.
Bryony didn’t want to ask Pony to ask Phil if he knew what was going on. For a start, she had promised Pony that she would no longer think or consider Hamish. If he had been stupid enough to let her go, to be horrible for her for days on end, then what could she do? She still had pride in herself and therefore she had to ignore him and continue on with her life.
But, she couldn’t help wondering if Phil knew what was going through Hamish’s mind? Of course he did, he was his best mate and flatmate.
Had Pony not explained the situation with Bryony? Had Phil not asked questions? It was all very frustrating, least of all because she couldn’t ask any questions to Pony and Pony didn’t seem to want to discuss it with Bryony.
Bryony wasn’t even sure if Hamish was coming today. He had shown interest earlier on during the two weeks, but a lot had happened since then and Bryony was not sure he was still going to come. Was she never going to see him again until Pony and Phil got married? Was that it? Her one love interest gone forever? She wasn’t sure but she felt worried. Perhaps she would try to phone him if he wasn’t there today? That would be a good idea, she could ring him if she didn’t get a chance to speak to him today.
Bryony was the first to arrive at the agreed meeting point. She stepped off the bus to arrive at an empty car park at quarter to nine. The sky was clear, the surroundings were still. For the first time in a long time she felt a little calmer. After the stress of being caught, of the trial, of the sentencing, of the actual community service, it felt good to be almost free from it for life. Almost of course. It would be forever on her CV but as she was a translator and worked freelance this wasn’t such a problem.
Where was everyone? It was now ten to nine, she expected at least one person to be here by now, not least Gerry. Where was Gerry? This was definitely the right spot, Gerry had specifically shown it on the map. She texted Gerry quickly, out of panic.
Where are you? Are you OK?
Another five minutes passed. No Gerry. No Star. No Steve. No one. No reply from any of them. Where were they? The next bus wasn’t for quite a while. What was she going to do? Should she do the walk by herself? Should she say that she did it? But she didn’t have any evidence that she had done it: she hadn’t thought to bring a camera. Of course, her family and friends would trust her, but it would be better if others were there: she didn’t really know the route in the hills. What could she do? Maybe she could look on google maps?
But, she had heard it was dangerous climbing by yourself. What happened if something went wrong? What happened if she got lost? What would she do?
In the distance, she heard the faint noise of a car. Finally! Could this be everyone, perhaps getting a lift or maybe in a taxi together? They were a little bit late but she was so glad they were going to be there at all. With a relieved sigh, she put her phone back in her pocket, and waited to see the car.
Suddenly, from over the hills, she saw a black car, spacious and fast. It was driving towards the car park at quite a speed, as if the driver felt it was late for an appointment. As it came closer and closer she realised that it probably wasn’t anyone she knew, as there was only one person in the car and not four like she anticipated.
As it came closer to the car park it slowed down, indicated and turned in. Bryony’s heart missed a beat as she realised who it was.
The door opened and the sole occupant stood up. Turning round to face her, with the same amount of shock in his face as she had in hers, he closed the door and slowly walked over.
Looking around he said
‘Where’s everyone else?’
‘I have no idea’.
Hamish smiled, ‘well, let’s wait for a bit then decide what we’re going to do, shall we?’
Sitting down on a rock, Bryony suddenly felt a wave of panic. Would it just be her and Hamish for the entire day?
Chapter Nine
The air was fresh and clean, the wind was calm and the sun was shining. The first part of the climb up the hills just outside of Glasgow were steep and arduous. With no obvious path, except sheep tracks, they had to haul themselves up rough patches of heather, climb through bushes, jump over boulders and catch their breath at small plateaus. The sky was the colour of blue and the air of that crisp freshness which can only be enjoyed in the spring months of the year: before the rainy summer takes over, and after the cold, cruel and long winter had left the earth, giving life to the ground once more.
As they climbed, their view behind them grew ever larger, showing huge sweeps of the central belt of Scotland, from sections of rough, untamed ground, to clean and neat farmed fields, to villages, small towns and, in the distance, the murky expanse of Glasgow itself. Details such as farm houses and woods which had taken up large sections of their viewpoint became slowly smaller and the wider context of the localities became larger and more expansive. In amongst nature, Hamish and Bryony could enjoy the stillness. The call of a bird was piercing, the crack of a branch echoing, all sounds became larger in the quiet and solitude in which they found themselves.
The silence of course also was between them. Half an hour earlier, Hamish had remarked that it was half past nine, that no one was contactable and that therefore, if nothing else, they at least should complete the walk. This way, at least some of the sponsored money could be claimed. It was pointless to go
home when they had both taken the time and effort to come here and so the least they could do was uphold their part of the bargain. Bryony had silently agreed and after filling their water bottles, had begun on their ten mile hike. This did not mean, of course, that they would talk. Indeed, since this short speech by Hamish, neither of them had spoken, had barely responded to the other’s presence on this walk. It was like two people on the same walk, but in completely different universes.
Of course, being just metres apart, one could not help but think of the other. Bryony from behind watched his tall body, his long hairy and masculine legs climb the hill in great long strides, his jeans, tight over his lower regions every time he took a step. She imagined his smiling, funny grey eyes laughing at her. He was of course attractive, she concluded, but what mattered really to her was that he was intelligent, thoughtful and, yet funny. He could sit and watch others, not say a word, then add something funny and interesting which would change the entire discussion. She knew that he was forgiving of others, thoughtful about others and she found these characteristics deeply attractive in him. Hamish’s enduring and continued support of those seeking a new life after a lifetime of crime was admirable and showed her that he had a good heart. She had found him initially attractive, but she knew that she had fallen for him as she had got to know him, as they had talked and laughed, as she had gotten to know his personality. Bryony wondered if this was different for women: to find a man enduringly attractive and not just for the first couple of minutes of meeting him, she had to know something about him, she had to get to know him. It was, she thought, harder for a woman to find someone so attractive and tempting if she didn’t deeply like who he was first.
Bryony found her mind wandering to the events that had resulted in them becoming enemies. She still had no idea what had happened. Why had Hamish so hurtfully changed his opinion? His feelings? How could it be that one man could so quickly turn: from intimate sensitive and caring as well as an excellent dancer to someone who had taken every step possible to humiliate, irritate and mortify her throughout the week?
Pony had been vague, shrugging her shoulders and blaming it on men in general. But Bryony did not think so. Now, more than ever, was she convinced that Hamish had had feelings for her, but something had happened, something had changed, she had done something perhaps that had angered him? As the walk developed, she found her feelings becoming angrier and angrier towards this tall, muscular and soft grey-eyed man who had turned on her so strangely. What had happened?
Hamish, meanwhile, was full of rage towards Bryony. How could he have been so stupid as to be tricked by her? And why, even after five days of thinking about who she really was did he find her so attractive? It wasn’t even that she was just attractive, she was intelligent, cultured and fluent in three languages. She seemed to him to be an amazing person: how could she be so immoral and awful? He had gone out on a limb, helped the boy she desperately wanted to and yet found out it was all for a fake cause.
He was glad that he had found Declan. Declan had proved himself to be quick-learning, eager to learn and incredibly hard-working. He took few breaks and seemed to have a natural eye for colour and, crucially order. He could of course dig quickly and was strong and strong-willed. Hamish also liked him as a person and found that they could have a good laugh about a number of topics and Declan was also passionate about football, which was a huge benefit.
Their growing rage towards each other made them more aware of the other on the walk and they both began to be more competitive. The pace became quicker and quicker and they both began to breath heavier and heavier. Their breaks became few and far between until they became completely non-existent. The brow of the hill came faster and faster towards them until they were running up the hill. Bryony’s lungs were heaving and Hamish was sweating profusely, but they continued, quicker and quicker.
However, their luck and speed soon changed. Almost on top of the hill, Bryony suddenly took a stumble. Almost running to the top, a branch underfoot gave way and she fell unceremoniously to the ground. Immediately, she was sighing and closing her eyes in utter pain. Her hands flew to her ankle, where the pain was throbbing so hard she could almost not feel it at all. She dared not look, but it felt like it could be broken. Hamish turned back immediately and was quickly at her side.
‘Where does it hurt Bryony?’ he said, with no anger in his voice. Immediately this surprised him.
‘ARCSH!’ she said through immense pain.
‘Is it your ankle?’ she managed to nod her head, eyes closed tightly shut, head buried in her chest, ‘Bryony let me -’
‘Hamish! Just let me be! You have done enough!’ She said, through immense pain. He blushed.
‘Bryony, if I could just see - ‘
‘Get off! You have been horrible to me all week, for no apparent reason and suddenly you are nice to me?’ She could feel all the anger boiling over and she could find no way to stop it. ‘You have been hateful all week, and I have no idea why! You have just turned on me and I don’t understand! As far as I can tell I have done nothing wrong! Did you just want sex or something? Was that it? If it is, just leave me here, I don’t want you to say another word!’
He looked at her, helpless, in immense pain, shouting at him through it all. He suddenly felt impressed, but he felt her comments were unfair.
‘Bryony! You are a criminal! You convinced me that you weren’t with Declan and then you go and get Gerry to scare your neighbours off for you! You didn’t even think about the fact that he is trying to change his ways, that he shouldn’t be getting involved in that type of life! All so you could have some peace and quiet in your life! I thought you were different, but you are exactly the same as I thought you were. A criminal with no remorse and with no feelings for anyone but yourself’.
She looked at him. The penny suddenly dropping. Declan must have mentioned it when he saw Gerry and Hamish had put two and two together to get five.
‘Did you ask Gerry what had happened?’
‘No, I didn’t need to. Declan told me everything. I have a thorough understanding. You asked Gerry to come and scare your neighbours and Gerry, being such a nice person really, did your bidding! You probably played the female card: I am so weak, I can’t do anything’ he put on a girly voice ‘and Gerry fell for it! You are a manipulator and you are annoyed because you have been - ‘
Bryony, before she had a chance to stop herself, slapped Hamish, full on in the face. Hamish’s face was utterly stunned and taken aback.
‘What on earth do you know about anything, Hamish?’ Before he had a chance to say anything she continued ‘I never asked Gerry, he just turned up on my doorstep! He said that he would think of a way to sort it out and then he just turned up! He hadn’t even knocked on my door, he had sorted it out! And I am ever-thankful that he did. He didn’t hurt anyone, no one started on him, he just turned up and made his presence known! And I didn’t ask him to! I would never have asked him to! He did it out of kindness, not out of me manipulating him!’
She paused for effect. Hamish looked into her eyes and saw the truth: her mouth was still wide open at the idea that she could have asked Gerry to scare her neighbours. Her eyes were wide open in shock and she looked taken aback and hurt. He realised that he had been really hard towards her for the last two weeks and that she did not deserve any of it. He sighed and looked at the ground in shame.
‘So, that is why you have been so horrible to me? Because you think I am this awful criminal who uses other people? You thought I was going to use you and so you decided to try and stop anything that might -’
She was so full of anger at him! Why hadn’t he just asked her what was wrong? She would have told him everything! Declan had obviously not given enough details, or indeed, knew enough details to tell Hamish the correct story.
Suddenly, as she continued on her rant, Hamish raised his head as if to look at her but instead leaned over and put his lips with a passionate heaviness onto hers. She gave i
n to temptation and lifted her hands to his neck. Ravenous, he pressed his lips yet further onto her and she responded, their mouths opening and the warmth of their bodies close, strong and enduring.
She no longer felt human, just animal. She had no human sense: all she knew was that this was right, this was what she wanted and she was going to continue to get it. She could feel Hamish sweating, overcome with passion, with want, the build up of two weeks of hunger for her. She smiled as he sunk his tongue deeper into her mouth, she responding.
Her hands, which had been on his neck, began to move, began to have new ideas. Her hands went to his hair, his neck, his shirt, his back, caressing, massaging, rubbing, gripping and finally holding him closer as if she would never let go. Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt, her ankle forgotten, and he responded by pushing his mouth, her head and pushed her back, until she was lying on the ground, the full weight of his body on top of her, the sweaty musk of his scent mingling with hers.
