by Ian Todd
Efter their last conversation oan the subject, she’d been drapping hints tae him aboot still being keen tae explore the possibility ae buying the crofthoose. She’d stupidly thought he hidnae sussed oot whit she’d been up tae. He hidnae hosed doon Betsy the next morning either, which hid been fair enough. As she’d left tae go tae work the next morning, he’d followed her oot the front door and warned her no tae confront Ishbel.
“Piss aff, Johnboy Taylor. You don’t own me,” she’d snapped at him.
Of course, that’s exactly whit she’d been intending tae dae, bit he’d been right. She never did mention it tae Ishbel. She should’ve known fine well that somewan like her wid’ve went tae the polis aboot something like that. Bit, then again, why not? Efter aw, it wisnae Glesga they wur living in noo. Something as horrible as that, in a sleepy wee place like Lochinver, where crime wis non-existent, wid’ve been a big deal tae somewan like Ishbel…and no doubt scary. The other big stramash between them hid been when he’d confronted the caravan site owner, the wan who’d threatened tae shoot him, doon at the opening ae the refurbished Lochinver Memorial Hall. Efterwards, he’d claimed that he wisnae looking tae cause trouble, bit hid jist wanted tae explain tae the guy that he hidnae been trespassing and hid jist been enquiring if there wis any work oan the go.
“So, why did he turn oan ye, eh?” she’d demanded tae know. “Ye must’ve said something tae get that reaction.”
“Did ye hear whit Ah said tae him when Ah approached him?”
“Naw.”
“Then, get yer facts right. The auld basturt didnae want tae know.”
There hidnae been a cup thrown that time, bit there hid been plenty ae silent huffing spells between them fur a day or two. She’d decided no tae mention the fact that she’d wanted them tae attend the dance in the hall that same night thegither, as a couple. She knew that wid’ve gone doon like a ton ae bricks. It hid been her first real attempt at getting him, them, oot ae the hoose, tae meet and mix wae the locals. Of course, the two fights hidnae put her aff. It jist meant her socialising plan hid tae be shelved fur a wee while longer. He clearly wisnae ready. She hid tae take her time. Efter aw, they hid aw the time in the world, hidn’t they?
“Jist keep in mind, Senga, ye kin take the boy oot ae Glesga, bit ye cannae take Glesga oot ae the boy. It’ll probably take a wee bit ae time, bit ye’ll get there in the end…if ye’re patient,” Pearl hid said tae her the night Johnboy hid announced they wur upping sticks and leaving the toon, at Tony and Kim Sui’s party.
She’d jist smiled at Pearl, no fully appreciating whit she’d been saying at the time. Noo she knew. She looked across at the door intae the corridor. She could hear Liz Ross rattling aff the names ae the pupils, as the sound ae chattering reached her ears, interrupting her thoughts, as they wur being lined up in the order they’d be getting sent across tae her. She wondered how that obstinate man ae hers wis getting oan? Christ, she wis starting tae act like some mother hen. She’d need tae start relaxing and stoap worrying aboot whit kind ae bother he’d be getting himsel intae. He wis walking fae the crofthoose doon intae Lochinver. She’d offered him a lift, bit unsurprisingly, he’d refused. Oan the positive side, she hidnae come across another soul as she’d driven doon tae the surgery first thing.
“Er, hello Miss. I’m Angus MacKenzie…I…I’m the first,” the wee bruiser wae the black eye stuttered, sounding really nervous.
“Angus! Aw, whit happened tae yer eye, pet…never mind. Ye don’t hiv tae answer that wan. Come and sit doon o’er here,” she said encouragingly, patting the arse ae the chair beside her, glad tae see that Liz hid goat him tae take his erm oot ae the sleeve ae his jumper. “Now, then, ye’ll jist feel a wee prick,” she cooed, efter swabbing the skin ae his erm wae a wee antiseptic wipe.
Angus let oot a horrendous painful scream before she’d even goat near him wae the needle, setting aff the whole class next door, who aw miraculously managed tae howl in tune wae each other this time.
Chapter Twenty Two
“Oh…oh…oh, me…oh, me…Johnboy…Johnboy…oh, me!” she screamed, digging her nails intae the cheeks ae his bare arse, the orgasm wracking her whole body, as he crashed doon oan tap ae her.
They lay clinging tae each other, baith panting, fur whit seemed like ages, before he rolled aff her oan tae his side ae the mattress.
“Mmm,” she groaned, snuggling up tae him, lifting up his erm and resting her heid oan his chest.
His heart wis beating like the clappers. The spasms ae the orgasm wur still oot ae control, making her shudder every time she moved her leg. She lay still, allowing her breathing tae subside.
“Good?” he asked.
“Eh…whit?” she murmured, clearly sounding confused, no convinced she’d heard right.
“Ah asked ye if that wis good,” he murmured back.
She couldnae help hersel and burst oot laughing, lifting her heid up aff ae that chest ae his and looking at him in the dark.
“Johnboy, whit kind ae question is that tae ask?” she pouted, slapping him oan the stomach.
“Ouch ya bugger, ye! That hurt, so it did.”
“Ah cannae believe that…wis that good…sounding like some kind ae stud or something,” she scoffed.
“Aye, and?”
“If ye must know, it wis awright, so it wis,” she admitted, biting his left nipple.
“Arrggghhh, fur fuck’s sake, Senga, that wis bloody sore, so it wis.”
“Ah cannae believe you jist asked me that.”
"Why?” he laughed.
“Ye’re so bloody macho at times, so ye ur. It’s horrible. Ye always come oot wae things like that jist tae annoy me.”
“Ah wis only asking, fur Christ’s sake. Sorry fur being so romantic,” he drawled, as the baith ae them cracked up this time.
“Okay, kin Ah hit you wae a question, then…Mr Stud?” she asked.
“No if ye’re gonnae take the piss out me efter aw that effort ae mine.”
Silence.
“Okay, sorry. Hurry up, Ah’m aw ears…lying here wae bated breath.”
“If Ah wis tae tell ye Ah wis pregnant, wid ye be terribly upset?”
Silence.
“So, Ah’ll take that silence as an affirmative then, will Ah?”
“Affirmative? Fuck sake, that sounds like whit Spock’s fiancée probably replied tae him efter he proposed tae her…nae wonder he changed his mind,” he said tae mair laughter, as she dug her nails intae his bare flesh. “Okay, sorry. Naw, ma silence isnae whit you think.”
“So whit ur yer thinking then?”
“Aye, bit ye’re no…like, pregnant, Ah mean?”
“No.”
“Well, obviously it wid be a shock…bit, that wisnae whit shut me up and made me haud ma breath though.
“Whit wis it then?” she asked, propping hersel up oan her elbows, looking at him.
“It wis the follow-up wan that Ah wis waiting fur that hid me worried fur a minute there.”
“Follow up…whit follow up?”
“The follow up question where ye ask me if Ah’d mind if ye hid a home birth…that wan,” he replied straight-faced, as she cracked up laughing.
“Aw, poor Johnboy. Ah’m so cruel tae ye, so Ah am,” she said, laying her heid back doon oan his chest. “Bit, kin ye imagine me pregnant?”
“Naw.”
“Neither kin Ah.”
Silence.
“Look, kin Ah ask ye another question?”
“Aw, fur Christ’s sake, Senga, Ah hate this. Ye’ll end up asking me something, whether Ah want ye tae or no.”
“Aye, bit ye’ve goat tae promise that ye won’t get annoyed at me?”
“Please don’t tell me ye really ur pregnant?”
“Naw, don’t be stupid.”
“Whit then?”
“We’ve been invited oot fur a meal…tae Dolina’s.”
“When?”
“A week oan Saturday.”
Silence.
“F
ine,” he finally said, efter gieing it a bit ae a thought.
“Eh?”
“Ah said fine.”
“Ur you serious?” she asked, sitting back up and looking doon at him, before asking him. “Whit’s the catch?”
“Hoi, it’s me that’s supposed tae be asking that wan.”
“There wid probably be a social worker in the company.”
“So?”
“So, ye widnae mind then?”
“Why wid Ah mind aboot being in the company ae a social worker? Christ, Ah know some ae them mair than Ah dae ma ain family,” he quipped, as they baith chuckled.
“Aw, Johnboy, Ah love ye so much, so Ah dae. Ah thought that ye’d object tae being in the company ae a social worker.”
“Jist as long as PC Long Face and that chin ae his isnae sitting in there pontificating aboot how it isnae his fault that naebody likes him and never will, Ah’ll be jist fine.”
“Ah cannae wait till Ah tell Dolina that we’ll be coming. Ah’m so excited, so Ah am,” Senga gushed happily.
“Anyway, furget aw that nonsense. How aboot getting back tae praising me oan how much ae a stud Ah am?” he asked her, smiling, opening his erms, as she laughed and bent forward, wrapping her erms roond his neck, kissing him, as she shifted her leg o’er his body, allowing his erection tae enter her.
Chapter Twenty Three
He hidnae appreciated that the road fae the crofthoose wis as long as it wis, doon tae the start ae the path at the far end ae Loch Dubh. No that he wis in any particular hurry. It wis good tae be away fae the hoose and the cat, who he’d hid tae dump back intae the living room efter the wee basturt widnae stoap following him. There hid been quite a few cars passing him, wae whit looked like holidaymakers in them, obviously heidin fur Achmelvich Beach. The beach hid become really busy since Easter. The cars wur aw full ae kids hinging oot ae the back windaes clutching their spades, buckets and wee bandy nets stuck oan the end ae canes. He hid tae jump back oan tae the verge at wan point, as a big black Labrador tried, bit failed, tae take a chunk oot ae that erm ae his oan the way past. He’d been glad tae get aff the road and oan tae the path proper. He hid tae admit that the area wis stunningly beautiful, looking a lot mair lush than where he’d jist come fae. He’d sat staring across at whit the map telt him wis Lochinver Bay fur aboot hauf an hour. He’d made up his mind that he’d start tae explore the surrounding area mair often. When he goat hame, he’d look oot his running gear. Wae aw the shite that hid been gaun oan, he’d need tae get back intae some serious training. Ye kin never be too fit, he reminded himsel. He wisnae sure ae the distance between the start ae the path doon tae the cattle grid and wee bridge that took him intae the village. It hid taken him aboot three hours. The only times he’d been in Lochinver wis oan the night Senga hid driven them roond the place, the day she’d picked up Betsy, her wee Hillman Imp, and the time they’d gone doon tae the opening ae the hall. He agreed wae her. There hidnae been much tae look at, apart fae a Spar that looked pretty spartan oan the grocery front inside, a couple ae B & Bs, a few restaurants and artist type shoaps that hid been shut, and two hotels, The Inver and the big granite looking Culag Hotel doon by the harbour next tae The Ship Chandler’s, which wis also shut. Oan the walk, he’d been trying tae figure oot in that heid ae his whit the fuck wis gaun oan wae them being targeted. The obvious person tae blame wis Grizzly Chops, the mad basturt fae the caravan site across the hill. If that wis the case, why leave a couple ae trout and a bottle ae home brewed hooch at his door? It didnae make sense. He didnae get the impression that Badger Face wis the furgiving type efter he’d challenged the basturt doon at the hall. He certainly wisnae a bottle merchant either. If Senga hidnae appeared oan the scene, he reckoned the grumpy auld prick wid’ve been prepared tae hiv a go. If he wisnae behind it, then who wis? He felt stumped. Surely it widnae be somebody at Senga’s work? She wis pretty good at noising him up when she wanted tae, bit it wisnae in her nature tae attract attention fae people that didnae like her. He wondered if the wummin she worked wae, Ishbel somebody, wis behind it. Why go tae the bizzies aboot the run-in he’d hid wae The Grizzly? He wis still annoyed that Senga hid gossiped aboot it at her work. She wis always getting oan tae him aboot the importance ae being open and honest wae her…that they shouldnae hide anything fae each other, bit see where that hid goat him? And why did that guy Heckie, the wan in the fancy Land Rover, gie him a bum steer?
“Excuse me, Jimmy, ye widnae know if there’s a bookshoap aboot here, wid ye?” he’d asked, efter he’d stoapped in by the Spar tae get a bottle ae ginger tae take wae him, jist before he’d planned tae heid back tae the crofthoose earlier.
“Jimmy? My name isn’t Jimmy. It’s Heckie MacLeod,” the bumptious prick hid haughtily replied, looking doon his nose at him, as he’d sat ootside the shoap, hivving a wee skoof ae his Irn Bru.
“Oh, right, sorry. Me and ma other hauf moved intae Little Vestey’s Crofthoose, up near Achmelvich, at the end of March. This is the first time Ah’ve been doon intae the village. Ma name’s Johnboy…Johnboy Taylor. Ah wis oan the hunt fur a bookshoap, so Ah wis.”
“Little Vestey’s Croft you say?” Knobheid hid asked, sounding surprised...or taken aback? “Old Anchris MacLeod’s croft?”
“Er, Ah’m no sure…who?”
“Angelina MacLeod’s mother. She died last December. Her daughter used to be the district nurse around these parts years ago.”
“Aye, that sounds aboot right.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a contact address for dear Angelina, would you?”
“Sorry.”
He wisnae sure whether it hid been the superior sounding tone ae the voice addressing him or the trussed-up gentrified get-up that he’d been wearing, that hid made him want tae kick the poncie basturt in they baws ae his fur his cheek. Senga wis always getting oan tae him aboot his attitude towards people in uniform. While Mr Superior didnae hiv a hat and pips oan they shoulders ae his, the shaded green outfit that included a deer stalker hat, checked shirt and green tie that matched his green checked jaicket and green socks under his green checked plus fours and shiny pair ae broon brogues could be classed as a uniform in some parts he supposed. Maybe Senga hid a point aboot him and dickheids in uniforms.
“Ah, and you must be the famous author who lives with the new nurse?” Mr Superior Poncie-Arse hid exclaimed, twisting the vocal ae ‘author’ and making it sound like something he’d jist scraped aff ae the heel ae wan ae his broon brogues.
“Sounds like me,” he’d admitted, laughing, trying tae be friendly…fur Senga’s sake.
“A bookshop? Let me see now,” the auld prick hid drawled, rubbing his whiskery chin, looking doon towards the harbour, where he’d jist trooped up fae five minutes earlier. “There is one…Achins bookshop. It’s at Inverkirkaig, about half a mile out of the village, down that way,” he’d said, pointing.
“Oh, right. Inver whit?”
“Inverkirkaig. Down the hill, follow the road round towards The Culag Hotel and take a left at the bend before it. Keep on walking. It’s chust past Inverkirkaig Primary School. You can’t miss it.”
And wae that, Grumpy Arse hid jumped intae his shiny green Defender and sped aff, bit no before turning that ruddy baw face ae his roond and gieing him a shitey look, or at least, that whit he thought he’d done. He took a big swig ae the Irn Bru and stuck it back intae his duffle bag…another piece ae kit he widnae hiv been seen deid wae, walking aboot the toon, and stood up. He’d been sitting oan the wee dyke, staring doon intae the river, in whit he assumed wis the carpark, at the bottom ae the narrow drive that led up tae the bookshoap fur the past three quarters ae an hour. He wis trying tae figure oot why somewan he’d never clapped eyes oan before hid telt him that the bookshoap wis only aboot hauf a mile oot ae Lochinver. He’d been jist aboot tae turn back efter aboot two or three miles ae walking, hivving convinced himsel that he must’ve taken the wrang road, when he’d finally come across Inverkirkaig Primary School. No only
that, bit Betsy, Senga’s car, hid been sitting ootside beside another four cars. It wis then that he’d remembered she’d telt him the night before that she wis daeing the schools, gieing aw the pupils in the area their jabs before they hit secondary efter the summer holidays. He’d thought aboot popping in tae see if she’d be heidin back doon the road any time soon, bit hid changed his mind, efter he heard aw the wailing coming fae wan ae the classrooms. He’d jist carried oan, assuming the bookshoap wid be jist a bit further oan, roond the bend in the road. The bloody thing must’ve been another mile at least. He’d actually burst oot laughing hysterically when he’d discovered the place wis shut… Tuesday, the only day ae the week it wis closed seemingly, according tae the opening times oan the wee notice board doon oan the stony carpark. The few shoaps in Lochinver hivving been shut, other than the Spar, aw made sense. Whit still hidnae made sense though wis why he’d been sent oan a wild goose chase at least three or four miles up a winding country road tae a bookshoap that wis shut. The poncie basturt must’ve known that. It hid taken him a couple ae hours tae walk doon intae Lochinver and then another good hour and a hauf up tae the bookshoap. He looked at his watch. It wis jist efter wan o’clock. Christ, Senga wid think he wis locked up in the cells ae the local cop shop by the time he goat hame, he thought tae himsel, smiling, as he hitched his duffle bag roond oan tae his back and hit the road he’d jist trundled up an hour earlier.
Chapter Twenty Four
The dark shape quickly slithered doon the side ae the slippery rock face oan its arse, baith feet landing heavily in the rocky shingle that didnae appear tae hiv moved since the week before. Although the moon wis up, thankfully the sky wis laden wae black clouds, threatening thunder. He normally wisnae too concerned aboot the noise ae they feet ae his landing back oan tae terra firma or the sound ae the grunt fae the back ae his throat, as he felt the air whoosh up and oot ae they lungs ae his efter drapping the twelve feet aff the edge ae the cliff face. He wis jist wondering if he wis getting too auld fur clambering aboot the wet, lichen-covered, sodden rocky gullies in the middle ae the night, when the familiar sound ae a low growl reached him o’er the blustery wind. Hid it heard him?
