“I could be here all year telling you. I should never have married you. I should have listened to my father.
“Why, what did Daddy say?” Ben asked masochistically.
“I married beneath myself.”
“So why did you marry me?”
“Oh Ben, this is pointless,” Kathryn tried to deflect his question, her ice-cold exterior, swaying between remaining so, or letting a soupcon of emotion trickle through in his favour.
“Why did you marry me?” Ben raised his voice slightly.
Kathryn drew herself up, any trace of emotion long gone.
“Don’t you know, darling? You were my bit of rough, my way of pissing off my parents.”
She had never loved him. She had used him. Wordlessly he left the room and went to pour himself a large whisky.
Ben heard the front door close and went upstairs to investigate. Some of her things were gone. He went through their wardrobes and bedside cabinets, then her dressing room, adjacent to the master bedroom and larger than most people’s bedrooms. Many of her things still hung on the racks, including her fawn slip dress, the most expensive item he had ever bought her. Of course, he hadn’t paid for the engagement ring. Her parents insisted they pay for it, as their daughter had appearances to upkeep. Twenty five thousand pounds and it was meaningless in less than a year. They hadn’t celebrated their first anniversary yet. There would be nothing to celebrate now.
He wondered why she hadn’t taken all of her things. Then he saw the Oxley-Finch embossed notepaper on the bed. Gingerly he picked it up, “Ben. I am not unreasonable. You have one week to move out. Kathryn.”
Ben crumpled the notelet in his fist and sat down on the bed. Oh great, not only was he losing his wife, but also his home. Looking around him, he realised this wasn’t his home. None of it was his taste. He walked out of the room and down the spiral staircase. If this was no longer his home, he‘d better get cracking and find a new one, as moving within a week was going to be no easy task, even though he didn’t have much to take with him. He climbed up into his Land Rover, the only concession he had made to the gentrified living he had grudgingly accepted and headed into town to buy the papers to look for a flat to rent.
Chapter Twenty One
Freshly showered, Ben felt better. He needed to get a move on though if he didn’t want to be late. Much as he was respected at the hiking shop and Assistant Manager, he had been slipping lately, what with everything that was going on. He wasn’t exactly flavour of the month at the moment. It was also a three hour journey and he needed to get diesel.
“Hi Ben. How you doing?”
“Not bad, Charlie. Yourself?”
“I’m all right thanks. A word of warning. Forsythe’s on the warpath today. Two of the boys phoned in sick and it’s been really busy.”
Ben’s heart sank. Just what he needed. Not the most mild-mannered man at the best of times, John Forsythe had an acid tongue and took no prisoners. Ben squared his shoulders, easy enough, broad-shouldered as he was, and approached the staff room with what he hoped was the correct amount of bonhomie.
“Ben,” Forsythe acknowledged him when he strode in.
“All right boss?” Ben asked.
“Not really. Those two wasters, Lewis and Terry aren’t coming in. Sick. Sick my arse. More like hungover.”
Ben winced, reminded of his own hangover, which had dissipated somewhat on his way up from Paisley. Before he could reply, Forsythe said to him,
“You’re no’ looking so sharp yourself.”
Reading the barely concealed warning, Ben said,
“I’m fine.”
“Good, because with two down, I need all the help I can get.”
The day passed in a blur. Everyone seemed to be going camping this year, if sales were anything to go by.
“Thanks for hanging back, Ben. You may as well go.”
“No problem, Forsythe. See you tomorrow.”
“Aye, hopefully we’ll have a full staff.”
Ben pulled into the car park of the B&B. He had a nice little deal. Friends had suggested Mrs Lochray sell up to one of the many people eager to join the booming B&B business in the Glencoe area, but she had resisted. This was where Donald had come from, where he had died and where she would stay. She had been advertising for lodgers when Ben had first arrived and no fewer than six people had mentioned this to him, so it had seemed that it was Providence. Mary had later been convinced to use her other two rooms as B&B accommodation. Since then Ben had started doing jobs around the house and helping with the tourists. In exchange, Mary provided him with three meals a day and did his washing.
“Hi, Mary. How’s your day been?” Ben asked, stamping his feet on the mat.
“Hectic. We’ve a new Finnish couple in room four. Presumably they haven’t come here to ski, or they’ll be sorely disappointed. You’d expect there’d be plenty of snow where they live.”
Ben smiled. Mary had a habit of adding some comment about her guests. She would try to figure out what they did and why they had come to Scotland, long before they volunteered the information.
Her children had long grown up and lived in far-flung corners of the globe, one in Ottawa, one in Brisbane and the youngest was in Cambridgeshire. So she looked on Ben as a surrogate son and he was happy enough to assume the role and let her mollycoddle him. He certainly hadn’t received much TLC from anyone else in a while.
“We have a new family in for a week. They’re the Morrisons and they’re from York. Two little ones, three and five, George and Harriet. Cute as can be, but that Harriet has the look of a sly little minx and has her father wrapped around her finger.”
“I’m off to have a shower, Mary. See you in a bit.”
“Right you are. Steak pie OK for tea?”
“Absolutely.” It was one of his favourites and another reason he loved living here. All of Mary’s food was homemade. Kathryn had barely known how to pop bread in the toaster. It wasn’t that he was sexist and thought women should cook all the time, but she never cooked and she was home all day, or shopping, whilst he was out slaving away. It didn’t matter that she didn’t need to earn a living. It was the principle.
Ben applied aftershave to his jaw and chin, wincing as it seeped into his skin. He felt good tonight. Maybe he would go to the Aonach Inn. But first he’d have some of that steak pie.
The Finnish couple were also at dinner and Ben chatted to them about fishing and Formula One, the only two things he knew about Finland, apart from that Helsinki was the capital. The talents of Mika Hakkinen and Kimi Raikkonen exhausted, Ben excused himself.
He picked up his wallet and called his mate, John, a taxi-driver who often dropped him at the pub, as his girlfriend lived in Glencoe village. John said he’d be there in five minutes. Five minutes in the Highlands meant about twenty minutes, so Ben went into the kitchen where Mary was busy doing the dishes. He gave her the week’s lodgings money and then chatted with her, as she handed him the plates and he placed them in the cupboard above his head. The sound of a car horn broke into their ramblings fifteen minutes later.
“Ah, early for once,” Ben joked. “See you in the morning.”
“Bye son,” she said to his retreating back.
“Aonach Inn please, John.”
“As if I didn’t know. Where else would you be going?”
“Are you trying to imply something?” Ben appeared hurt.
“Aye. That you’re no’ using my taxi company for anything else.”
“Where else would I go?”
“Ye’ve a point there,”
The drive didn’t take long. “See you later,” and with a shrieking of brakes John sped off to his girlfriend’s.
Ben opened the low door, which led into the main section of the pub. It was busy tonight, he thought. He was just trying to figure out if he recognised anyone when a familiar face flew into his line of vision.
“Ben! Ben! Over here!”
His old friend, Jeremy. Jeremy
asked him how he was getting on.
“I’m fine, Jez and you, what you been up to?”
The two men chatted for a few minutes, catching up on the gossip and then as Ben appeared to be free and on his own for the rest of the evening, Jez said,
“Well, why don’t you join us? Make way for one more, guys. Budge up!”
Ben looked around. There were quite a few of them. He thought Maggie had quite a hard look about her, as if she could hold her own. Henry looked like a bit of a boffin. There were another couple of lads and what was this? It looked like a shy, little mouse, trying to hide. What did Jez say her name was? He’d been so busy trying to catch up with the introductions, he’d missed it. But, Jez had certainly saved the best for last.
There was something about her. He didn’t know what. She wasn’t beautiful, she wasn’t even really pretty. She was skinny rather than slim, she looked awkward, like a newly born doe. When he’d shaken her hand, there had definitely been something, not fireworks, but a spark. He tried not to look at her, whilst Jez rambled on. He didn’t want to be rude, but he couldn’t give him his full attention. Usually he enjoyed Jez’s anecdotes, but he found himself unable to concentrate and provided clipped responses to most of his questions. He was still half lending an ear to Jez, half trying to home in on the other conversations, when he heard a decidedly feminine voice say,
“Anyone for another?” There were murmurs of assent and people reciting what they wanted.
“Ben, what are you having?”
He chose the glib approach.
“What are you having?” he asked.
“I-I’m having vodka and coke,” she stammered.
“Make that two.”
“OK.” She almost ran down the pub away from him. Hmmm, what to do? What to do?
The very fact that she’d stuttered gave him hope that perhaps he wasn’t the only one who’d experienced a little frisson from their handshake. He waited a few moments, as he hatched his plan, until she was near the front of the queue. As soon as he saw the barman speak to her, he interrupted Jez, saying
“Scuse me a sec, Jez. I’ll just give her a hand with the drinks.”
“What? Uh, Jennifer, sorry, I should have thought of that.”
“No problem. I’ll go,” Ben was delighted. Jez had unwittingly aided him, by mentioning her name.
He stood behind her. She hadn’t yet registered his presence. He was just in time to hear the barman say,
“I get off in half an hour,” and Jen’s polite, noncommittal response of, “That’s nice.” The barman, unwilling to give up, persisted, “Would you like to meet up later?” Ben didn’t know whether to thank him or be angry, as Jen stuttered, “I-I-I…” at a loss how to deal with the situation. He stepped in, putting his arm around her, looked the bartender in the face and said,
“I’m sure she’d love to, but we have plans later, don’t we, darling?”
“Yes.” She turned towards him and the smile lit her face like the glowing embers of a fire.
“I came to help you with the drinks.”
“Thanks.”
He wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for coming to help with the drinks, or for getting rid of the barman’s unwelcome attentions.
“Can’t have you being set upon by the wolves.” She smiled weakly, but Ben was encouraged. Motioning for her to walk ahead of him, they carried the drinks back.
Whilst they were at the bar, Henry had moved to speak to Jez and so Jennifer and Ben found themselves sitting together. He was annoyed when Lee, started talking to him, across Jennifer, about climbing. It was a bit rude; Lee was almost acting as if Jennifer were invisible. He figured he should show willing and participate properly in the conversation; otherwise Jennifer might think he was a complete moron. So he chatted amiably enough, with Jennifer on the fringes of the conversation. Lee asked him about the Munros he’d bagged. He’d climbed seventy out of the two hundred and eighty four. Then the conversation moved on to adventure sports.
Ben asked Jennifer, “Have you ever abseiled?”
“Well, yes, but not for years,”
Buoyed by this unexpected opening and spotting an opportunity to see her again, Ben coaxed the details out of her. Maybe he could persuade her to go abseiling. She explained about her mother and after talking it through, he gave her his number in case she fancied trying it again.
Lee arrived with the drinks just then and the moment was lost. As the evening drew to a close, Ben found himself wishing he didn’t have to go home.
Chapter Twenty Two
When it was time to leave, Jeremy suggested Ben come back to the campsite with them. Ben told him he had to get back to the B&B.
“Nonsense! We’re all at the campsite. Come back with us. We’ve got sausages and burgers.”
“I’m working tomorrow,” Ben replied, meanwhile thinking this could be his chance with Jennifer.
“C’mon. I haven’t seen you for ages.
“OK”
After calling John to update him, Ben pushed open the oak door again and stooping slightly, to avoid banging his head on the low lintel, entered the pub. He moved swiftly towards the table where Jeremy was shrugging on his jacket. The others were downing the remainder of their drinks. Jennifer had started walking towards the door with Maggie, when she looked over, holding his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. His smile started at the corners of his mouth and reached all the way to his eyes. A long, cream scarf lay on the floor and dragging his gaze from Jennifer, he bent down to pick it up. “Is this yours?” he held it out to her.
“Thanks. I didn’t realise I’d dropped it.” She was silent for a moment. The others were heading towards the door. Maggie had started chatting to Jeremy.
“Are you joining us at the campsite?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes. Jez has said I can kip in his tent.”
“Well, we’d better get going then,” she held the door open. He took it from her and said “After you.”
As they walked in the pitch darkness, Lee started singing Dancing Queen, which the others protested to and said if he had to sing, it had to be something more appropriate.
“But I like Dancing Queen,” wailed Lee. Nevertheless the song soon changed to The Irish Rover, followed by Long Tall Sally, then Flower of Scotland. Lee’s repertoire wasn’t very varied, nor was his singing much good.
It didn’t take them long to arrive at the campsite. It was cold for June, but the heavy rain forecast, hadn’t come to much and it was dry now. Just as well they had gas burners and stoves though. Meanwhile, Susan fetched some wood from one of the cars. They were well prepared, Ben thought. He huddled inside his puffy jacket, glad he’d chosen to wear it. He glanced over at Jennifer. She was lucky she had quite a few layers on; a green lined cagoule, a micro fleece and possibly a t-shirt too, but it really wasn’t sufficient for this type of outdoor activity. It was obvious she was a beginner, whereas the others wore proper walking garb. As soon as Jeremy got the fire going, Jennifer positioned herself nearest to it. Ben wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her warm.
“Ben,” Jeremy shouted across to him, disrupting his thought process. “Give us a hand with these sausages.”
Ben’s face crinkled up and good-naturedly he took the two bags of food which Jeremy had thrust into his hands and set about readying them for grilling.
“Oh, it’s some place this!” said Ben “You get invited over for supper and end up having to make it yourself!”
There were laughs from around the campfire. Maggie handed round cups of tea for those who didn’t fancy malt.
They chatted for a while, eating charred sausages and burgers.
“Why won’t men cook in a kitchen, but when it’s a barbecue, they fight over it?” Susan asked.
“Hear, hear,” said Maggie.
“That’s not fair. What about Jamie Oliver?” asked Lee.
“He’s cute,” said Susan.
“I meant professionally,” Lee retorte
d indignantly.
“He’s changed my perception of cooking,” said Maggie.
“You mean, you actually cook now,” said Jennifer.
“Well yes, but I have to follow a recipe.”
“I’m more of a find an onion, a tomato and two eggs and then make a three course meal out of it,” said Jeremy.
“Aye right!” said Lee.
“No, seriously, although I do have a little help from Delia Online.”
They all laughed at this. Jennifer excused herself, asking Maggie as she staggered to get up from her cross-legged position where the toilets were.
“Those Portakabins, by the campsite entrance.”
“OK, back in a minute.”
Ben watched her go, then realised this was an opportunity to get her on her own again and earn some brownie points at the same time.
“Lee, can I borrow your torch?”
“Sure,” he fished it out of his pocket and flipped it over to Ben.
Ben shone the torch in the direction he’d seen Jennifer venture off in. It was pitch dark and the moon was almost completely hidden. He knew it was Jennifer’s first time here and that there were a few potholes near the entrance and countless ruts. He didn’t want her going over on her ankle. He reached the toilets and heard running water.
“Oh my God, you scared me,” she squealed, when she came out, head down and almost walked slap bang into Ben.
“Do you usually loiter around ladies’ toilets?”
She was mocking him. He could see a smile at the corners of her lips.
“No, but I saw you struggling on the way over and figured I’d bring you a torch.”
He was rewarded with another smile,
“Did you really come all the way over here to bring me a torch?”
Ben hesitated. He didn’t want to appear too keen, yet his instincts told him just to be honest.
“Well, not exactly. The torch was an excuse.”
“What do you mean?” she wasn’t making this easy.
Once more he dithered and then figuring sod it, nothing ventured, nothing gained, he bent down and kissed her. The kiss became progressively more involved and when they finally drew apart, he said, “I’ve wanted to do that all night. I couldn’t wait to see if you took up my offer of abseiling.”
Sign of the Times Page 13
