Love Patterns

by Michael B. Malone

  Alan explained. “Slogans like “Scotland for the Scots” and “It’s Scotland’s Oil.” Anyway, a police car swung around the corner and caught me red-handed.”

  What happened?” Kirsty gasped.

  “They took me here.”

  “In there?” Kirsty eyed the pollution blackened Victorian building and shuddered.

  “Yes, and to ascertain my identity they phoned Mum and Dad.”

  “They must have been worried sick.”

  “Not so worried as I was. They started discussing what to charge me with. One mentioned “Defacing private property” and “Causing a public nuisance.” The other one looked through a book and suggested “Conspiracy to overthrow the regime”, adding that it carried a minimum sentence of ten years! I was shaking in my shoes.”

  “What happened?” Kirsty looked shocked.

  “They gave me a warning and let me go.” He grinned ruefully. “It was only then I realised they’d been winding me up!”

  Kirsty tried to suppress her smile. “That was cruel.”

  Alan sighed. “I got hell when I got home. I think Dad’s admonitions were tongue in cheek, I think he was really a bit proud of me, but Mum,” he sighed. “She just about went off her head.”

  “You, poor boy,” Kirsty sympathised. She let go his hand to put her arm around his waist.

  They turned off the Royal Mile to get back to Princes Street to meet Alan’s mother. After lunch Alan left to collect the theatre tickets. The ladies shopped, then stopped in Jenner’s for a coffee.

  “What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Isobel asked, once they were seated.

  “We have to get back for Alan’s Arabic lesson, then we have to shop to stock up on food, so after breakfast sometime.”

  She noticed Isobel’s look at the mention of stocking up on food. She crossed her fingers under the table and took the plunge.

  “We’re living together,” she confided. She saw Isobel’s mouth open then shut, her lips tight in a straight line. She felt nervous but hurried on, “I don’t want to keep it a secret from you.”

  Isobel looked at Kirsty silently for a while. “I respect you for your honesty Kirsty.”

  Kirsty tried to keep her bottom lip from trembling, “But you don’t approve?”

  “Of course, I don’t approve!” Isobel burst out. “You’ve known my son how long?”

  “Five weeks,” Kirsty’s voice was hardly audible.

  “FIVE WEEKS! And you’ve already jumped into bed with him. I certainly don’t approve.”

  “But I love him,” Kirsty wailed.

  “That’s no excuse for sleeping ar …” Isobel stopped.

  Kirsty felt her face flush. She began to get angry, but kept her voice low, mindful of the occupied tables around them.

  “I don’t sleep around. Alan is my first real boyfriend. That is unfair.”

  Isobel looked at her intently then gave a small nod. She apologised, “I’m sorry, my remark was uncalled for. Put it down to shock, but I still don’t approve.”

  ‘I’m not going to cry, I’m not,’ Kirsty told herself.

  She spoke firmly. “I love Alan, and your acceptance would be very, very important to me.” She glanced at Isobel’s set face then continued, “but if I can’t have it, I will just have to manage without it.” She finished with just a small quaver in her voice. She took a deep breath. “Excuse me,” she muttered.

  She made it to the ladies’ room before she burst into tears. After a while she washed and dried her face. She wondered if her relationship with Alan would be affected. Worry gnawed at her.

  Isobel’s hand shook as she lifted her coffee cup. The girl was shameless.

  “We are living together.” She’d said it without a hint of embarrassment. It was called “Living in sin” when I was her age. She knew young people were less inhibited today, but to flaunt it in our faces? What was Alan thinking of?

  She took in Kirsty’s red eyes when she returned and felt a sneaking admiration. The girl had courage, it was hard not to like her. She stifled that line of thought.

  “Shall we go?” she asked. Kirsty nodded.

  They were both polite on the journey back to the house. Alan was waiting for them and knew from their manner that something had happened. Kirsty gave him a look then excused herself to wash her hair.

  His mother, her face expressionless, said, “Kirsty told me you were living together.”

  ” That’s, right Mum,” Alan confirmed.

  “That’s right?” She burst out. “Is that all you have to say?”

  “Surely that’s our business Mum.”

  “If you’d kept it your business, yes, but inviting your …,” she hesitated, “mistress to my house, how could you?”

  Alan suppressed a surge of anger. “Mum,” he pleaded. “I’m going to ask her to marry me when I come back from Iraq. We love each other.”

  “You’re supposed to get married before you … jump into bed.”

  “Mum, young people today are different. They don’t need a man with his collar turned back to front to “Bless” their relationship.”

  She glared at him. “So you’ve turned against your religion as well?”

  “We both know I’ve hardly been to church since I was twelve.” He held up his hands “I think that we should cool it Mum, this isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  His mother stood breathing heavily. She didn’t say anything more, but her glare was enough. Alan retreated to the lounge where he heard the clatter of dishes and pans being banged

  about.

  He brooded for a while then decided to make himself a coffee. His mother might be calmer. He switched the kettle on and waited for it to boil, not knowing what to say. He felt the accusation in his mother’s rigid back.

  She said in a low voice. “I don’t want you to bring Kirsty next week.”

  Alan was shocked. He replied, his voice tightly controlled. “All right Mum, but if she’s not welcome, neither am I.”

  Her back remained perfectly rigid, but there was a slight break in her voice as she replied. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  He strode over to lay his hand gently on her shoulder. “That is not the way I want it Mum, but I love her and was hoping you would too.” She ignored him and continued banging pots about in the sink.

  Kirsty came hesitantly into the kitchen. She smiled uncertainly at him. He smiled back. Her hair had dried and stood out around her head like a halo. He thought he’d never seen such feminine allure in a woman before. He felt his face flush. Feeling his mother’s eyes on him, he turned to look, but she frowned and turned back to her work.

  “I’m just making a coffee Kirsty do you want one?” he asked.

  Kirsty felt the tension. “I thought I’d go out for a walk.”

  “I’ll join you.” He turned to his mother. “I’ll think we’ll eat out tonight on the way to the theatre.”

  “All right.” Her voice sounded muffled.

  “I’m sorry Alan, I’ve put my foot in it.” Kirsty apologised when they were outside.

  “She had to find out sometime,” he consoled her and took her in his arms.

  “I so wanted her to like me,” she sobbed. She hurriedly dried her eyes as David’s car drew into the drive. He came towards them carrying a well stuffed brief case.

  He smiled, then looked at Kirsty attentively. “Going for a walk?” he asked.

  “Just building up an appetite. We’re having dinner out on the way to the theatre.” David nodded. “I’ll give you a lift if you like.”

  “Thanks Dad.” Alan nodded. “We’ll be back soon.”

  David dropped his briefcase at the door and glanced into the kitchen. His wife was sitting at the table, her head in her hands. She glanced at him and he saw the tears in her eyes.

  “What’s up dear? You’re in tears, Kirsty’s in tears, have you been having a quarrel?”

  “They are living together.”

  “I know.”

  “YOU KNO
W?” Isobel was shocked. He nodded. “Since when?”

  “Since yesterday, it was obvious.”

  “How?”

  David smiled. “When a young woman is enjoying, sex it changes her. Her skin changes and it smells different and her eyes have a certain lustre … it’s also obvious from their behaviour.”

  Isobel felt astonished. It was one of the things she liked about her husband, he could still surprise her.

  “I didn’t notice anything.”

  He looked at her. “It’s not what they do but what they don’t do. There’s a certain familiarity when a couple are sleeping together, they are at ease with each other.”

  She sniffed. “I think it’s shameless.” He looked at her for a while.

  “I noticed these same things in Katie long before she was married.”

  She opened her mouth in shock. “Katie?” She paused. “I do not believe it.”

  “Take my word for it dear, it’s my job to notice these things.”

  She felt irate. “I will not take your word for it, not our Katie, you are talking utter rubbish.” He shrugged and picked up the evening paper. She jumped up. “I’m going to phone her right now.”

  “It’s none of our business, Dear.”

  We’ll see about that,” she muttered and stalked out of the room. She picked up the phone and dialled.

  She heard Katie’s voice. “It’s your mother here!” Isobel barked.

  “Oh!” There was a pause. “What’s wrong Mum?” Without preamble she got straight to the point.

  “Were you sleeping with Euan before you were married?”

  There was a long silence, then Katie said, “I’ll just take the phone into the bedroom.” A few moments later she asked, “What’s this all about Mum?”

  “Alan and his girlfriend have been staying with us.”

  Katie broke in. “What’s she like?”

  “She’s …” Isobel realised she’d been side tracked. “Never mind that now. She told me she and Alan were living together. I had words with her.”

  She heard an “Ah” from the phone.

  “I’ve just told your father and he said he knew, some nonsense about her smell and the look in her eyes and her skin. He said he’d seen the same thing in you before you married Euan.”

  There was another long silence, except for the sound of Katie’s breathing, then she replied, her voice low.

  “Yes Mum, I lived with Euan for four months in his flat in Glasgow before we were married.”

  “But”, Isobel didn’t know what to say, she felt deflated.

  Katie continued. “Mum we loved each other. When we married, we knew we were right for each other.”

  “You could have told me!”

  Katie’s voice sounded hesitant. “Well.”

  Isobel remembered her reaction to Kirsty’s announcement. “All right, all right, I understand.”

  “I think you’ve done the wrong thing Mum.”

  “But it’s wrong,” Isobel began to feel guilty. She knew Katie was very perceptive, like David. She respected her opinion.

  “Mum,” Katie paused. “It’s not for you to say. It’s their life. When two people are in love, sex is something that brings them closer together, it’s not something sordid, it’s something beautiful.”

  Isobel reconsidered. ‘You are a silly old woman,’ she told herself. ‘Fancy needing your daughter to remind you of that.’

  Katie asked, “What’s she like?”

  Isobel felt that she had to be honest. “She’s very nice I suppose, she’s young, seventeen, she’s got red hair and she’s very pretty. You’ll see her next week.” She would have to apologise to Alan she thought.

  Katie exclaimed. “I’m dying to meet her.”

  Isobel sighed. “I’d better get back to your Dad and eat humble pie. How’s the baby?”

  She heard Katie’s voice soften. “A little angel.”

  “I’ll phone later.” She found David in the lounge and sank onto the settee. “You were right.” He folded his paper and looked up.

  “Tell me what happened with Kirsty.” She related the events of the afternoon.

  He gave her his professional look, squinting over the top of his reading glasses. She cringed, knowing she would follow his advice. He had a way of making her re-evaluate her opinions.

  He started. “I think she was very honest, she didn’t need to tell you and she said she didn’t want any secrets between you. You can’t blame Kirsty for what is normal behaviour nowadays.” He paused and gave her an intent look. “I think you have a wonderful future daughter-in-law and I think you’ve hurt her.” He paused again. “Isobel?” She looked at him. “You will have to get this settled now or the memory will fester, and you could be her mother-in-law for a long time.”

  Eventually she gave a small sigh. “I think I’ve been foolish dear.”

  He moved closer and put his arm around her. “You foolish?” he held for a while then murmured, “Darling?”

  She moved contentedly against him. “Yes dear?”

  “Do you remember a month before we were married, we stayed in that hotel in Perth for a weekend?”

  She pushed him away. “But that was different!”

  He grinned, “In what way?”

  She felt irritated. “Because it was.”

  “I’ll make you a coffee dear,” he grinned at her.

  It irritated her, but she knew he’d won, and she knew he knew it. She smiled as she looked inward at her memories. Her father would have murdered David if he’d found out. She thought that her mother had suspected.

  She remembered being in love, the way he’d looked at her, the way he still looked at her sometimes. She remembered the way Alan had looked at Kirsty in the kitchen and the softening of her face as she’d returned the look. She sighed, the poor girl, she was so young. She remembered Kirsty’s lip trembling and the small quaver in her voice when she’d practically accused her of being a tart. Yet she’d been firm and polite. Yes! she was, honest and courageous. She’d sensed the truth when Kirsty had said Alan had been her first real boyfriend. What a fool I’ve been, she thought. The poor, brave, honest, wonderful girl. David came back with the coffee.

  They heard Alan and Kirsty come in and go straight upstairs. David glanced at her.

  “Best do it now dear.” She nodded, climbed the stairs, hesitated, then knocked on Kirsty’s door.

  Kirsty called. “Come in.”

  She pushed open the door. Kirsty was sitting on the bed brushing her hair. She put down the brush and started to stand.

  “No, sit down Kirsty,” Isobel pleaded, and sat beside her. Kirsty’s eyes were serious.

  “I’ve come to apologise Kirsty,” she started. “I think I was very unfair.” She saw tears gathering in Kirsty’s eyes and pulled the girl into her arms, murmuring over her sobs. “It’s just I got a bit of a shock. I think you are a lovely, honest young woman and that Alan is a very lucky young man to know you.” She held Kirsty until the sobbing stopped, stroking her hair and murmuring her apologies.

  Kirsty eventually pulled away, dried her eyes and smiled. “Thanks Isobel.”

  It would be nice to have her call me mum, she thought. She offered. “Would you like me to do your hair? I used to do it for Katie.”

  She felt Kirsty’s eyes look around her and through her, before she replied.

  “Thanks, would you? It’s a bit of a job to untangle after I’ve washed it.”

  She started to comb and brush while they talked, and there was something about the grooming that was comforting and intimate and eased the last vestiges of tension between them.

  Alan, carrying his shaving tackle, looked in the open door as he passed. He came into the room, his eyebrows raised.

  Isobel explained. “I’ve just apologised to Kirsty for my unfairness Alan.”

  All he could say was, “Oh!”

  Isobel looked at him. “Do you want to stay for dinner? I’ve made your favourite, Lasagne.”

&
nbsp; Kirsty interrupted, also looking at Alan. “I love lasagne.”

  Isobel continued. “I’ve just phoned Katie. She wanted to know all about you”, she gave Alan a look then turned back to Kirsty. “She’s looking forward to meeting you next week.” Alan left, looking dazed.

  Isobel finished Kirsty’s hair. She stood up. “I’d better get on with dinner. David will give you a lift to the theatre.”

  Kirsty looked up smiling. “Thanks again Isobel.”

  Isobel gave her another hug and left to get on with dinner.

  David came through to the kitchen. “How did it go?” he asked.

  Isobel smiled. “I’ve made my peace, she’s a very nice girl.” She added thoughtfully. “She has the same way of looking at you as your friend Bill Munro. I think there is something a bit fey about her.”

  “Well you know what they say about redheads.”

  “I’d like to meet her sister,” Isobel declared. “She’s done a grand job.”

  Alan knocked and came into Kirsty’s room.

  “Everything all right now?” he asked.

  “Wonderful!” She came into his arms with happiness dancing in her eyes. “She likes me, we only have Claire to win over now.” He pulled her close and held her for a while.

  After dinner, David gave them a lift to the theatre. Kirsty loved “Cats” and bought a tape of the soundtrack. They caught a bus back and after a few long kisses they went to their separate beds.

  They left soon after breakfast the next morning to catch the train back to Dundee. After leaving their luggage at his room, Alan went to the university while Kirsty went home to wash her clothes. He had a last look at the final version of his report before submitting it to the faculty board. He visited Dr. Taylor.

  “Anything you want me to do?” he asked.

  “Things are pretty much in hand at this end,” he was assured. “Professor Suleman of Basra University is handling things at the other end. He will be in charge, overall.”

  “Who are the other members?” Alan queried. Dr. Taylor hunted for a list, found it then squinted down the page.

  “A Farik Salamah from Durham, he’s Jordanian; a Dr Williams from Cardiff; a Norwegian; a French man and wife team; two Italians and three Americans. The rest of the party will be students and scientists from Basra University.”