Highland Fling

by Anna Larner

  “Oh shit, yeah.” Eve dug deeply into the pocket of her jeans, separating her spare set of door keys from the remnants of a tissue. “Thanks for looking after my flat.”

  “No worries. I may not have a chance to see you before your hols, so have a good time. Oh, and say hi to your mum and dad for me and tell your sister, Gary’s a prick.”

  “Thanks, Rox. I’ll say you say hi. Mum thinks the holiday will help Esther, what with the divorce and everything, and she didn’t want her to be bored—”

  “And yet you still got invited?” Roxanne grinned broadly.

  “Yeah, nobody’s laughing.” Eve looked around the empty street. “See.”

  Smiling, Roxanne asked, “So you’re looking forward to it?”

  Eve nodded. “Uh-huh.” At least, I think I am. The memory of her recent phone call with her mother came flooding back.

  It’ll be good for us all, darling, to have a break, in any case. It’s been quite upsetting all round. Divorce. Just awful, awful. Your poor sister, it’s really taken its toll. Oh, and at her age, so unfortunate. Well, I knew you would want to help your sister by joining in. It would be no fun for Esther with just your father and me. And the Highlands, well, they’re just a delight at this time of year. A delight. So you’ll come. Yes, marvellous, I’ll confirm the booking with the agent.

  At no point had Eve’s mother, Lillian, paused to draw breath or to allow Eve to comment, or indeed implied by her tone that anything she said was a question that Eve might wish to answer. In any case, Eve could not remember specifically agreeing or, for that matter, speaking at all, beyond Hello, Mum and Goodbye.

  “You’ll be fine.” Roxanne’s reassurance interrupted the memory. “It will go really quickly. You’ll be in The Brewer’s boring me—sorry, telling me all about your hols before you know what.” Roxanne eye’s glinted with mischief.

  Eve looked back towards the glowing windows of the bar.

  “So, yeah…’night Rox. I’ll text you when I get there.”

  “Take care, Evie Eds.”

  Just as she was about to step back into the bar, Roxanne hollered, “Oh, Evie. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Eve shook her head, turned, and walked away, the dog-eared beer mat warm against her thigh.

  Chapter Two

  It had been at least fifteen years since Eve, as a child, had last visited Scotland. Gazing out of the back seat window, her head rested against the glass, the Scotland of Eve’s memories gave way to the vivid wonder that surrounded her. Eve turned to glance at her sister and couldn’t help but feel that the journey to the Highlands, past glinting lochs and the majestic ice-sculptured slopes of Glen Coe, would gladden the saddest of hearts and renew the weariest of souls.

  It was almost six o’clock on the last Sunday in May when the Eddison family drove up the steep, winding road to the Highland hamlet of Newland.

  Loch View. Eve’s tired eyes traced the mesmeric swirls of the hand-painted wooden nameplate, which hung, weather-beaten, against the cream render of their holiday let.

  Rather than follow her bustling family into their accommodation, Eve, feeling decidedly travel sick, pulled on her coat and walked the short path down the side of the house, and stood at the top of a long garden. She could not have expected the sight that greeted her.

  With eyes saucer wide and lips parted in wonder, Eve gasped. “Okay. Wow. This, this is seriously cool.”

  A barely tamed lawn unfurled before her into meadow, where wisps of grasses dropped breathlessly away to reveal the distant rippling waters of Loch Ness, shining, dark, and beautiful. At the edges of the loch dense pine woods fringed rocky slopes of green, veined grey with hillside tracks. Clouds shadowed and broke to conceal and then reveal the drama of snow-capped mountains endlessly repeating themselves into the distant disappearing horizon.

  It was quite simply the most beautiful view she had ever seen. Standing motionless, absorbed in the scene, it was as if sketchy, monochrome memories were being redrawn with a palette of intense colours and sensations that left her reeling.

  “What the…?” Eve tipped her face to the sky, tracing the urgent flight of house martins, as they swooped and surprised in the air above, effortlessly cutting wing-shaped silhouettes against the evening sun. She spun around several times, her senses straining to absorb every pine-scented enchanting detail.

  Eve’s gaze eventually settled on their holiday accommodation. Nestled on the steep hillside, Loch View stood impressively in its grounds. Traditionally finished in cream render, with a sweeping slate-grey arched roof, it struck a striking architectural note. Sets of french doors opened out into the garden from both the living room and dining room, and a short run of three wide steps led to the grass below. By the living room window, a large bird table was crowded with feeding tits and finches.

  To the right of Loch View was a further collection of discreetly situated holiday lets. To the left, a larger house, covered with climbing roses and ivy, sat informally, languidly on the hillside. A barn building, attached to this neighbouring property, reinforced the rural setting. If she was honest, the neighbouring house looked a bit ramshackle. It was clearly not a holiday let. Hens could be heard clucking and various sprouting veg on climbing stakes could be seen waving in the breeze from above the boundary fence.

  “Eve, Eve! Can you help your father? Otherwise we shall be unpacking in the dark.” Like the shock of a dropped glass, Lillian’s high-pitched call shattered and broke upon the enchanting scene. The sudden crashing and charging of a rhino in a rainforest would have been less startling.

  “Sure, coming.” Eve took a long last gaze at the seductive view.

  From the front of the house, lapping at the boundaries of the driveway, green rich views of hills and woodland washed away any lingering images of glass buildings and concrete horizons. The city, grey and fast-paced, felt like another world.

  “It’s beautiful, don’t you think, Dad?” Eve said earnestly, as she diligently made the many trips from car to house, with bags, cases, raincoats, and wellingtons. “I mean, really amazing. I think it’s going to be good being here.”

  “Excellent, Eve. Excellent.” With these words, Henry grasped Eve and bear hugged the air out of his younger daughter’s lungs.

  Over his shoulder, Eve caught sight of a red Land Rover driving past, heading towards the neighbouring houses. She could not clearly discern who was driving, but if she was not mistaken, it seemed to be a woman. How cool was that?

  “Right, that’s me, Eve. Anything remaining will have to be dealt with in the morning. I’m ready for a gin and a sit.”

  Eve stood motionless staring out at the woodland view.

  “Eve? Are you coming in?” Henry asked, the gin bottle clasped to his chest.

  “I can’t take my eyes off it.”

  “Yes, that’s some view. It’ll be there in the morning though.”

  Eve heard Henry chuckle. “Unlike this bottle of gin,” he said as he disappeared inside.

  *

  Eve’s sister, Esther, decided that she wanted the room at the front of the house with the woodland view. She told her family that the room facing the loch would be too bright. Since the finalization of her divorce, Esther had declared that she liked to sleep in the pitch dark. Although Esther would have had her family believe that her statement was one of confident independence, Eve suspected that the darkness helped mask an empty bed. Eve was pleased, not of course that her sister was sad, but that this meant that the bedroom overlooking the loch could be hers. It was a fab room. Eve loved it. Set in the eaves of the house, it had a little en suite with a bathtub, and a small window seat on which to sit and admire the views. The bed linen was a pretty yellow and blue check, cut from the same cloth as the curtains and lampshades.

  Eve unpacked just her pyjamas, dressing gown, slippers, and toiletries. The other unpacking, Eve reasoned wearily, could wait until tomorrow or indeed whenever.

  Sitting on her bed, Eve texted Roxanne. Arrive
d safely. Cottage super nice with ace views. Will text again tomoz. E X

  Like a distant beacon signalling from a remote land, Eve’s phoned beeped and blinked, R X

  Chapter Three

  Eve slept more soundly than she had done for ages. She did not dream or wake for a wee. Before she knew it, her bedroom was light and she could hear the clucking and flustered flapping of hens from next door. It was nine o’clock. With some effort, Eve pulled on her dressing gown and yawned her way downstairs.

  Patting sticking up bed-hair into place, Eve stared out the french doors to the garden.

  “Morning, Eve. Here—tea,” Esther said, holding out an earthenware mug.

  “Thanks, sis. So what’s the plan for today?”

  “Well, Dad’s suggested a walk. Mum’s not sure. It does look quite hilly out there.” Esther nursed a mug of tea at her chest and directed a frown at the view outside.

  “Hilly?” It took all of Eve’s slim reserves of maturity not to add, And you expected it to be flat because…?

  Esther sighed. “You know what I mean. Anyway you’d better hurry up. There’s talk of leaving by ten.” Esther held up her watch, lifting her wrist awkwardly at Eve, to make the point. “Ten. Oh, and wrap up, Mum’s heard the forecast and it’s changeable.”

  Eve nodded. “Absolutely. I’m a welly away from ready. Is there any toast?”

  Esther pointed to the toaster and walked away, shaking her head.

  *

  It was midday when the Eddisons emerged through the woods to the car park of the Newland Forest Trust.

  Their first walk had been hilly and hot. Meandering hillside tracks, where tadpoles scooted in the puddles of the ruts left by tractor tyres, gave way to steep moorland slopes. With each promise of a summit came a further rising hill. And with the exertion of each new hill, Eve took off a layer of clothing, wrapping the discarded item around her waist. Her back felt damp underneath her rucksack and her rain hat kept tipping in front of her eyes obscuring her view.

  The relief to have found the car park, and what they thought to be toilets and a café was palpable. The relief was also short-lived.

  Covered in grass, the two wooden toilet huts rather caught Eve off guard. Had she not been bursting for the loo, she would have given them a miss. For whilst there was a toilet seat, there was no toilet as such, merely a hole in the ground, where according to a note pinned to the wall, if one had the stomach to look, organic composting was taking place.

  Eve hovered over the toilet, feeling the pain of tired calf and thigh muscles. She did her best not to look for spiders, convincing herself that if she could not see them, they were not there. Eve emerged having left any tucking in of clothes until she was outside the loo.

  “I’m holding on,” Esther whispered to Eve.

  Eve nodded in agreement. “On balance, advisable.”

  Eve looked at the large wooden building in front of them. It had something of the Swiss chalet about it. Logs created the walls and roof and it had a carved wooden veranda, with stilts to the floor.

  The whole set up—the loos, the chalet, the trails, the wooden benches, and carvings dotted around—had the feeling of something organic. It was very much as if the place and its contents were made from, and spoke of their environment.

  “I imagine their carbon footprint to be quite low,” Esther said. “What d’you think?”

  “Yep. It’s really cool isn’t it?” Eve adjusted the rain hat on her head and retied her raincoat around her waist. She watched as her parents disappeared inside the chalet-style building. Shielding her eyes with her hand and tilting her head to one side, Eve observed, “There’s no ice cream sign.”

  *

  Moira Burns looked up from her work, surprised at the unexpected arrivals at the education centre. She glanced across at her colleague, Alice Campbell, who appeared equally taken aback. It was not that the sight of a family of four was rare. It was rather that the appearance of this particular group of individuals was less…usual.

  The male of the group, who, if Moira was not mistaken, was the father, stood tall, mopping at his forehead with his cloth hanky. He was scanning the room with an expression that suggested he was absolutely delighted by the forest hideout they had stumbled on. The older of the three women, the mother, Moira presumed, appeared rather underwhelmed and seemed to be scanning the room for a seat. Her hair, swept high above her head in a silver beehive, resisted any movement. A leaf, daring to have fixed itself to the side of her head, was the only indication that any physical exertion might have taken place. Of the two younger women, one stood awkwardly with her arms folded and her legs crossed—she looked more than a little on edge. The other, the youngest of the group, appeared to have what looked like nearly all the clothes she had once been wearing tied around her middle. Her beaten-up rucksack, slung over her shoulder, was covered all over in brightly coloured badges. Moira noticed that she seemed particularly shy, embarrassed perhaps.

  “Did you want something?” Alice’s question to the visitors was more cold accusation than warm welcome.

  Moira smiled warmly at the gathered group, quickly intervening with, “Hello. Welcome to Newland Forest Trust’s Education Centre. I’m Moira Burns, and this is my colleague, Alice Campbell. How can we be of help?”

  Henry stepped forward and firmly shook Moira’s hand. “We’re very pleased to meet you. I’m Henry Eddison, this is my wife Lillian, and our daughters Esther and Eve. We’re on our holidays and have just enjoyed our first expedition—”

  Eve looked up. “I’m sorry did you say education centre?”

  Moira smiled and said gently, “Yes.” She watched Eve swallow, and her flushed cheeks glowed to an even deeper red.

  Lillian could not conceal her disappointment and hopelessly blurted out, “We were rather hoping for a skinny cappuccino.”

  Before the Eddisons could apologize and leave with what little dignity they had intact, Moira was filling the kettle and asking how they took their coffee.

  Henry shook his head. “Oh gosh, that’s not necessary, really, we’re—”

  “Gasping. Yes, milk no sugar.” Lillian finished Henry’s sentence very much as if she had started it.

  “We’ve no milk,” Alice said, abruptly. Her tone suggested that the sentence continued in her head with so you may as well go.

  Mugs were filled and Moira handed the coffee around.

  Eve stared at the floor, fixing her gaze away from the humiliating scene.

  “Here.” Moira handed Eve a biscuit.

  “Oh, no, thank you.” Eve raised her eyes so as not to be rude.

  Meeting Eve’s glance, Moira smiled, asking, “Are you sure?”

  Eve felt a rush of self-consciousness, nodded, and blushed. To her increasing embarrassment the woman seemed a little slow to move away and Eve could see that she was looking at her, at her outfit.

  “I wasn’t expecting the sun.” Eve shrugged in the direction of her wellington boots.

  “No, it’s okay, I wasn’t…” Moira paused.

  Eve thought she saw the woman’s cheeks colour.

  Moira continued, “It doesn’t always rain in Scotland, you know.”

  “No, I know,” Eve said, quickly, removing her rain hat and patting her hair into place. “And I also know you don’t have midges all year round.”

  Moira nodded and broke into a smile again.

  Impressing herself with her expert knowledge, Eve suggested, “And you probably don’t wear kilts. Or eat haggis.”

  Moira replied diplomatically, “Well…some do.”

  “Oh, of course,” Eve said, flustered. “I’m sure that it’s a delicious favourite.” Oh my God. Stop talking. Stop talking now.

  Henry piped up, beaming with pride, “We’ve just come down from the mountain.”

  Alice and Moira looked quizzically at each other.

  “Oh, you’ve come over the hill,” Alice said, with a flat, decidedly unimpressed tone.

  There was a pause, as t
he Eddisons took in the news that the mountain they had just bravely conquered was considered by the locals to be less of a Ben Nevis and more of a Murray mound.

  Henry looked deflated.

  “Yes”—Eve cleared her throat—“that’s right. Although I think we all feel like we’ve climbed a mountain.”

  “Well, it’s good that you are enjoying the walks here. Are you staying locally?” Moira directed her question back at Eve.

  Before Eve could reply, Lillian gasped with pride, “Yes, oh yes, Loch View, Loch View.” Lillian held her hand to her throat as she spoke, as if the thought of the magnificence of their holiday accommodation had momentarily all but overwhelmed her.

  Eve watched Alice smirk into her drink. Somewhere in her early twenties, Alice was pretty and her long straight blond hair was scraped back in a plaited ponytail. She was tall and rested one hand on her hip as she spoke. She was casually dressed in jeans and a cream jumper and trendy outdoor shoes. She looked kind of mountain ski-style cool. Eve was certain Roxanne would approve.

  “Yes. It’s a lovely spot,” Moira said. “I live next door in Foxglove Croft—the building attached to Foxglove, the main house.”

  Eve felt a tingle of recognition at Moira’s reply. The Land Rover driver?

  Eve braved a glance at Moira. With unkempt greying curly hair, bearing the imprint of having been wearing a cap, Moira appeared to be in her forties maybe. She wore lightweight black walking trousers and a grey fleece. Each pocket of her trousers seemed to contain something. Eve could see twine dangling out of a leg pocket and what looked like a piece of twig emerging from the left pocket at her hip. A whistle hung loosely from her neck. She was clearly dressed to work in the woods, to walk the hilltop bogs and the heather moors. Her muddy walking boots confirmed Eve’s suspicions. She was obviously the more outdoorsy of the two women. She was dressed for action, Eve decided, rather than for the superficial whims of fashion.