Kissed by the Rain

by Claudia Winter

  My aunt looked down, without a response for once in her life. Li got out of the car and squinted at the little plastic bag that still dangled from Bell’s fingers.

  “But that’s your tea, Bri!” she exclaimed. “The tea to calm your nerves that you got in the gift shop yesterday, when Antoine and I were having dinner.”

  “They have a gift shop in a place like the Castle—” I stopped, suddenly remembering the young dishwasher who’d given Bri a conspiratorial smile before helping us escape into the rain. “No way!”

  “What? It is tea, isn’t it?” Li’s jaw dropped.

  Bri turned to me with a condescending snort. “And you think my sister doesn’t need a babysitter.”

  11

  I thought several times about calling Justus. The first time was as we sat crammed like sardines in the back of the police car, while I counted the liver spots on the back of Bell’s bald colleague’s neck. The second time was when we sat on a bench in Kincraig’s police station, where Li griped about a missing seat cushion for half an hour until Bri took off her felt hat and pushed it under her sister’s behind. The third time, I didn’t want to smudge my phone display with fingers inky from fingerprinting.

  When we were finally left alone in a cell, my mobile and Li’s precious iPhone had long since been taken from us. My aunt was allowed to keep her Highlands romance novel, but to show her outrage, she only leafed through it.

  “Marijuana,” she muttered, shaking her head. There was a rustling of pages, followed by sad sighs to show how far her estimation of Bri had fallen. “Marijuana!”

  She had been repeating the word for two hours now, and I felt like I was slowly going mad. Bri, crumpled trilby back on her head, kept her eyes fixed on the light above the small sink.

  “I didn’t even get to smoke any of it!” Bri snapped.

  Li paused her mantra for a second, and I turned away so they couldn’t see my incredulous grin.

  Apart from the lack of a door handle, the room didn’t match my idea of a prison cell. It smelled of paint and cleaning products. The folding bed on which we sat was functional and clean—I remembered similar furnishings from various school trips. The space was small for three people, but it would have been tolerable if only my aunts didn’t argue like an old married couple.

  “I hope you realise that I’m missing dinner with Antoine because of you and can’t even let him know! He’s driving to Inverness just to see me.” Li started the attack.

  “And I hope you realise that a few grams of marijuana weren’t the only reason we were arrested,” Bri snarled, looking at me. “And why does this man want to buy you food again, anyway? Is the Frenchman into chubby women or can he just not think of anything better to do?”

  Li grandly raised her chin. “We go out to dinner so we can have a nice conversation. That’s how it’s done, dearest sister, if you want to find out more about a man than the size of his underwear.”

  “You unfortunately underestimate the importance of a man’s underwear size, dearest sister. But by all means, continue to feed your doctor onion soup and let him seduce you with his silly accent. Just don’t come to me crying when he disappears back home, never to be heard from again.”

  The silence that followed slid down my spine like a cold, slippery eel.

  “How could you know that?” Li asked calmly. “I didn’t tell you that Antoine and I had onion soup.”

  “Li—” I interjected.

  But she raised a hand and got up from the cot with surprising agility. She went to the sink, washed her hands, and dried them carefully. Then she looked at herself in the mirror, fixed her hair, and took a deep breath before turning around. The deep sorrow in her gaze was heartrending.

  “What did you do, Bri?”

  Her sister crossed her arms. “I saved you from doing something you’d regret. We both know how it ended for us last time.”

  “For us?” Li adjusted her glasses.

  “That’s right, for us. Need me to refresh your memory? Erich decided Irma Mellingstedt was the better choice for his bank account and dumped you. Too bad he got you pregnant first. Of course, I was the one who picked up the pieces and got you back on your feet.”

  “Pregnant?” I asked, my mouth agape.

  Li stood there hugging herself as if she might crumble into a thousand tiny pieces.

  “I lost the child,” she whispered to herself.

  I inhaled sharply, but the words of consolation stuck in my throat.

  “And I almost lost my sister,” Bri said, lifting her head. Tears shimmered in her cool eyes despite her attempts to blink them back. She suddenly looked as sad and fragile as Li, who had turned to support herself against the sink.

  “Fifty-five years, Bri,” Li said forlornly. “Will it ever stop hurting?”

  “I’m sorry,” Bri said in a flat voice. “I’m so very sorry.” She got up with difficulty and slowly approached her sister. “You should have someone at your side who loves you the way you deserve to be loved. Yes, Lieselotte Markwitz, you were supposed to grow old and grey with the love of your life by your side. And though it sounds sappy and really not the way I usually . . . and even though I don’t particularly . . . this Frenchman . . .” She stretched out her hands in supplication. “What I did was wrong, but I did it because I was afraid. I couldn’t take it if your heart got broken again and you withdrew to that place where nobody can reach you. Not even me.”

  I listened, dumbfounded. Bri’s face was already losing its vulnerability, swiftly being replaced by the acid aloofness befitting the role she played in our family.

  “Tell me you forgive me, already—before my arm falls off.”

  Li scrutinised Bri for a long time. She took so long that I began chewing on a fingernail, afraid she would reject the awkward peace offering. But just before Bri could turn away, Li rushed to her and hugged her.

  “You’re a silly girl.” Li held her sister at arm’s length and stroked the deep furrows on Bri’s forehead with her fingertips. “Have you forgotten? ‘I, Lieselotte Markwitz, swear by everything I hold dear that I will never abandon my sister Brigitte.’” Tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Bri swallowed a few times. Finally, she nodded and Li smiled.

  “Besides, Bri, I have grown old and grey with the love of my life by my side.”

  Officer Bell didn’t know what to do when he returned and found three sobbing women in his cell. He put on his best authority figure look, waved around some kind of official document, and announced in an exasperated voice, “Ladies, you’re free to leave.”

  We looked at each other in amazement.

  “We’re a country that welcomes tourists,” the policeman added with a grumpy glance in my direction. “But you better let your aunt drive until you have a valid licence with you. My colleagues from the city won’t be so lenient.”

  “You’re really letting us go? What about the truck? The marijuana?” I replied suspiciously.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The muscles of his jaw twitched.

  “My grandniece is referring to the dried plant matter in the plastic bag, which . . . Ouch!” Li rubbed the spot where Bri’s elbow had landed.

  “He doesn’t know what Josefine is talking about, Li,” Bri repeated.

  “That’s why I wanted to explain . . . Oh.” Her face lit up. “I see.” She beamed beatifically at Bell. “That’s so very helpful of you. You know, I’m sure my sister didn’t put the weed in her purse on purpose. She has no idea how to roll a joint, let alone smoke—”

  “We are leaving, Li. Now!”

  I quickly retrieved our belongings from Bell. It was obvious that the police officer did not relish letting us go, but nothing would keep me from walking through the cell door as fast as possible—no matter what had opened them, or who.

  My pulse quickened when I stepped into the hallway behind my aunts, who were holding hands like two excited little girls. What tiny hope I’d had that Finola O’Farrell might be behin
d this development crumbled like a dry scone when I saw Aidan get up from a wooden bench at the entrance. I could almost feel the blood draining from my face.

  “Mr. Murray! Don’t tell me you are once again our guardian angel,” Li squeaked, hugging him.

  Bri settled for a pat on his shoulder and pushed her sister out the door. “We’ll wait outside.”

  I was painfully aware of Bell’s presence—the smell of sweat and fast food behind my back. And in front of me there waited an even more destructive force of nature, rushing towards me and pulling my rigid body against him.

  “Mo ghaoil, my darling, what have you done now? I can’t let you out of my sight for a second.”

  He spoke loudly for the audience, his stubble scratching against my temple and the scent of chocolate and cedar wood making it almost impossible to breathe. I wanted to push him away, but he held on too tight.

  “Give me ten seconds,” he whispered into my ear in German. Then he pressed his lips against my mouth very hard, and my traitorous body kissed him back.

  Then I was free, trembling and out of breath, like a drowning woman fished out of the North Sea. Giving me a light slap on the behind, Aidan turned to Bell, who had been watching sceptically.

  “Thanks, Stew. I owe you one.”

  “Better keep an eye on your girl, Murray. Next time, I won’t let her off that easy.”

  The policeman stepped behind the counter and, frowning, removed our incident report from a drawer. A shredder roared into action.

  “I’ll keep her on a short leash,” Aidan assured him, chuckling.

  Bell shrugged, as if his memory of me and my aunts was being shredded along with the paper. He seemed not to care what our canoodling meant for Vicky.

  I saw a wedding band on Bell’s hand, which gave me a shocking idea. Maybe the two had a gentlemen’s agreement to cover for each other’s adultery! Snorting derisively, I linked arms with Aidan.

  “Let’s go home, darling,” I cooed, blinking seductively in Bell’s direction. Anything to get out of here. And then—well, as long as I had a working credit card and the number of a taxi company, I depended on nobody. Aidan was not going to derail me again—even if I had to wear earphones, nose plugs and a blindfold to avoid seeing, smelling, and hearing him everywhere until I got out of this horrible country.

  “Murray?”

  The policeman stopped us just as I reached for the handle of the door to freedom. Aidan instinctively pulled me closer, revealing fear that surprised me. Stewart Bell’s boyish eyes twinkled.

  “If you’re planning to take your new girlfriend and her aunts out for dinner, best avoid the Castle. They’re none too pleased with the one in the hat.”

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” I snapped the moment the heavy doors shut behind us, pulling my sweaty hand from the crook of his arm.

  He stopped on the stairs and crossed his arms. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  “Oh, everything’s perfectly fine with me. Couldn’t be better, now that I know what scum you are. You should be ashamed, cheating on your wife that way.”

  “My wife?” His surprise actually sounded genuine. God, this man had no conscience at all.

  “And to pull your friend into it!”

  Aidan touched the back of his neck. “Stewart isn’t my friend. He just owes me—”

  “A favour. Obviously! Did you help him cheat in maths, too?”

  “Your aunt Li and I will go for a little walk,” Bri said behind me.

  I had totally forgotten those two. They’d made themselves comfortable on a bench and were watching us like it was guerrilla theatre. A second-rate farce, I thought with a bitter smile. But they would be waiting for a happy ending until the cows—or, for local flavour, the sheep—came home.

  “A walk? But it’s going to rain again any minute.” Li took off her glasses and looked up at the sky.

  And indeed, a dark-grey cloud was moving in from the mountains, its craggy edges perfectly matching my mood.

  “Besides, I’d rather sit awhile. It’s comfortable on this little bench, and interesting.”

  Li’s salacious curiosity lost out to Bri’s sense of tact.

  “Up, Li. There’s a shopping street over there. I’m sure we can find a halfway decent cup of coffee. And if you behave, I’ll even give you back your phone so you can call the Frenchman.” Bri winked, gesturing that I should call when I needed her.

  I followed them with my eyes until Bri’s red coat and Li’s blue jumper combined into a purple smear in the distance. Aidan, meanwhile, had sat down on the station’s steps, legs spread, elbows on his knees.

  “What are you gawking at?” I snarled.

  “I’m waiting until what you’re saying makes sense.”

  He sounded so calm I got even more upset.

  “Sense? Sense? I’m certain Vicky could make sense of it immediately.”

  “You think Vicky and I . . . ?” He laughed as if I’d just accused him of having an affair with his sister.

  “I don’t just think so, I know so,” I hissed. “I saw the photo in the boathouse, the wedding photo of you and Vicky. And I’m appalled . . . Even if you were divorced, which you are not, I saw you making out in the pastry shop in Edinburgh—”

  “You saw us making out,” he repeated.

  “Yes, I did. It’s disgusting how you cheat on her. You’re a married man, damn it!”

  “So says the woman with an engagement ring on her finger.”

  “That’s completely different.”

  “Is it? How?”

  “It . . . it was a slip-up.”

  “Oh.” He nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  “At least I was honest. You knew from the start I was engaged, but you didn’t tell me you were married. I would never—”

  “Josefine, stop. It’s not what you’re imagining.”

  “So enlighten me. I can’t wait.”

  I paced on the lowest step, feeling as if I’d explode if I didn’t keep moving. Above us, a blue and white Scottish flag flapped at the top of its flagpole.

  “Please sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

  “I’ve no intention of getting comfortable here,” I replied. I leaned against the railing, but quickly straightened up when the rusty metal made a crunching sound.

  “Suit yourself, Mrs. Stone.” Aidan stretched out his legs and sighed. He rubbed his finger where a wedding band should be. “Let’s assume I can convince you that things are not what you think . . . I mean, let’s just imagine that what we had wouldn’t be affected by all this.” He exhaled for so long that the air between us seemed to vibrate. “Would you reconsider whether you really want to marry that man?”

  I was stunned. What was he talking about? “No, I wouldn’t,” I replied. My voice was trembling.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I don’t understand what this has to do with you and Vicky.” Pointing to his hand, I added, “Or the missing ring on your finger.”

  Lost in thought, Aidan smiled. “Who’d ever have thought we would end up here? On the plane, I thought you were sexy and smart, but irritating. Then you stumbled into my store in that hilarious jumper and I suddenly saw your tenderness, your frightened perfectionism—even though you ruined that a few minutes later. But there’s something about you that I just can’t shake.”

  “Aidan, this conversation is going way beyond weird. Could you get to the point, please, instead of flirting with me?”

  He raised a hand and I saw his body sag in surrender.

  “My wife is dead, Josefine. She died five years ago on a climbing trip when her group got caught in a snowstorm.”

  He said it flatly, like someone who has repeated the words so many times they had lost their meaning. But in his eyes was the sadness and loss that never leaves those who’ve lost a loved one.

  “Ben Nevis was Olivia’s twenty-fifth Munro, a mountain over three thousand feet—it was a jubilee, sort of . . .”

  A
wave of nausea forced me to sit down. I wrapped my arms around my knees.

  “But the woman in the photo was—”

  “Olivia. She was Vicky’s sister—and, yeah, they looked so much alike.” He sounded almost apologetic, as if it was his fault that I’d made such a terrible mistake.

  I burned with shame. First little Maisie, now Vicky. I had jumped to conclusions about Aidan again.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked plaintively, though the answer was obvious.

  Because there was never an opportunity, and even less a reason. Stupid cow that I was, I’d been desperate to convince myself that Aidan Murray was the last man on this planet for whom I would jeopardise my meticulously planned future.

  “Honestly, I didn’t think it was important,” Aidan said. “I was obviously wrong. It was important and I’m sorry—but that doesn’t change anything. You’ve made your decision and I’ll respect it, even though I wish I’d been more than just a slip-up to you, Mrs. Stone.”

  I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold wind rattling the police station’s shutters. God, woman! Tell him how you feel. Don’t let it end like this.

  “You’re right. It doesn’t change my decision.” I closed my eyes for a moment to digest this overwhelming feeling of loss.

  Mistake. You’re making a huge mistake.

  “Well, then . . . I know it sounds trite, but could we maybe try to be some sort of friends? Or at least declare a truce? After all, we’ll still have to spend time together. It would be nice if we weren’t constantly at each other’s throats.”

  “Time together?”

  I felt as if a thumb was pressed against my larynx. No! I did not want to spend one more minute with Aidan, tortured by desire and regret.

  “Well, you’ve shown that you need someone to watch over you, and I owe that much to your fiancé, I guess. Besides, we’re both looking for Charlie and Ian, and that truck is mine, after all. Let’s just forget about last night. We’ll pack up your crazy aunts and drive to Inverness right now.” Aidan got up and brushed off his trousers. “Agreed, Mrs. Stone?”