by Anna Larner
“Do you think we pulled it off?” Eve breathlessly asked, leaning in to Elizabeth.
“Admirably.” Elizabeth held Eve by both hands, swinging them in time with the music.
*
Moira stood transfixed as she watched Eve dancing with Elizabeth. Eve was smiling, gesturing to her tartan beret and to the colourful trimming of her trouser bottoms. Elizabeth was laughing with her head thrown back in delight. Moira liked what she saw. She liked it very much. Eve’s evident admiration of Newland and, if Moira was not mistaken, for her, had renewed a warmth in Moira’s heart. She found she couldn’t look at Eve and not feel joy.
Alice grumbled, “I don’t see what’s so fascinating about them.” Alice directed her comment at Moira. “Why they thought they could just turn up at what is clearly an event for locals. I mean, really. That man is completely making fun of us.”
“He’s just enjoying himself, Alice.” Angus dabbed his forehead with his hanky. “He certainly didn’t intend any harm. And, for the avoidance of doubt, I invited the Eddisons. I like them very much indeed.” As Angus said this, he looked at Moira. “Very much.”
Moira looked down and felt herself blush.
Their group was joined by the accordion player. “That’s it for me, these elbows can’t take any more.” As he dug around in his jacket pocket for his pipe and then his tobacco, Alice grabbed his sleeve.
“Come on, Dad.” Alice said. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”
John Campbell attempted a protest to no avail.
The dance floor refilled with more locals, as hands were shaken and arms roughly slung over shoulders. There was an infectious clan-like camaraderie.
Moira glanced across to the Eddisons, who were clapping in time to the music, watching the local families dance. She noticed that Eve was absent. She was caught off guard by the odd sense of panic that seemed to arise in response. She took a deep breath and walked over to her neighbours, thinking it would be rude not to say hello.
“Are you having a good evening?” Moira asked with a smile.
“Moira. Hi.” Esther patted the seat Eve had left. Moira didn’t sit down.
“Hello.” Henry rose from his seat and shook Moira’s hand firmly. “Excellent evening, excellent. Very much enjoyed by all.”
“She’s outside,” Esther said. “Eve, I mean. I think she’s outside.” Esther grinned at Moira.
Moira felt taken aback and wondered at what point she had given Esther reason to think she might be looking for Eve.
“That is if you were looking for her, of course,” Esther continued awkwardly. “Lovely, so, I’m going to check on Eve,” Esther said, standing and gathering her belongings. “Then I think I’m ready for home—yes? So see you two outside.”
Henry had his arm around Lillian, and they nodded in unison.
“You carry on. We’ll be right behind you, darling,” Lillian said, her cheeks tinged with a cider glow.
“Well, it’s nice to see you all again. Enjoy your holiday, won’t you?” Moira looked to Henry and Lillian, who were deep in conversation. As she turned away to rejoin her group, Moira thought she heard the words groin strain.
*
Eve had sensed that Moira had been watching her make a fool of herself. She could only imagine what Moira was thinking. She had kept her eyes firmly fixed on Elizabeth, not daring to look across to meet Moira’s gaze. She had left the hall at the earliest opportunity, slipping unnoticed through the crowds.
“You okay?” Esther slung her arm over Eve’s shoulder. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Esther had found Eve down the lane from the hall, not far from Loch View, leaning on the fence of a field of horses.
Eve shrugged. “Yeah, just needed some air—too much cider.”
“Take your time, enjoy this beautiful evening.” Henry called over to his daughters, as he and Lillian passed by.
Eve couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her father in his kilt. Holiday memories had been made that night, and if Eve was not mistaken Henry’s dancing would overshadow tales of the Loch Ness monster as the subject of local folklore for many years to come.
“You go ahead, I’ll just hang out for a bit,” Eve said, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hands which lay against the fence.
“Sure, although the bit didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon.” Esther nudged Eve playfully.
“’Night then,” Eve said, pretending she hadn’t heard.
The setting sun had left a fading golden hue to dapple on the surface of the loch below. A soft dusky twilight would envelop Newland until morning. Eve could not tell how long she had stood and watched the waters ease and ripple. All she knew was that the horses were at the far end of their field and leant sleepily against one another. She had not noticed their departure.
Eve could hear in the distance the remnants of the dancers disperse. A group of partygoers walked down the lane towards her. She turned briefly around and caught Alice’s eye once again. Alice’s companions were the accordion player and Moira. Moira. Oh my God, will this look like I was waiting for her? Eve knew that to suddenly walk off to Loch View, now that Moira would likely have seen her, would look even stranger. Shit. Eve held her breath and looked down as the group passed by.
*
“Okay. See you tomorrow. Goodnight.” Moira waved her companions farewell, pausing at her door. She glanced back up the hill towards Eve, shook her head, and turned the key.
She stood inside her croft, leaning against her sitting room door. The twilight through the window silhouetted her furniture, her life, against the plain cottage walls. With only passing shadows for company, the room felt cold. Empty.
Feeling alone was nothing new to Moira. But that night, what was new was the nagging sensation that it shouldn’t, needn’t be that way. Moira’s thoughts drifted to Eve standing outside. Was she waiting for me? I should have said hello. She’ll wonder why I didn’t. She’ll think… Moira knew that there was only one way to find out.
She turned away from her sitting room and made her way out of the croft, up the lane, to the woman who she was finding it increasingly hard to ignore.
*
As soon as Eve saw Moira walking towards her, she had feared the worst. Oh my God, I should have gone in. Why didn’t I go in? She’ll wonder what I’m doing. What am I doing? Shit. Panicked, Eve turned back towards the horses.
“So, how did you enjoy the dance?” Moira asked, her voice wavering with emotion.
Eve didn’t say anything. It was as if she had no more words left. No quips, no funny anecdotes, no giggly jokes, no awkward apologies. Nothing.
Moira leant against the fence next to her. Speaking into the ground, Moira spoke quietly. “I’m sorry about the other day, if I came across…” She stopped and looked at Eve. “I was too tired to talk.”
“Are they the Campbells?” Eve nodded in the direction of Foxglove.
Moira stood straight and then leant one elbow on the fence to face Eve. The question seemed to catch her off guard.
“Yes, Alice, of course and, and John, they live next door.” Moira was looking intently at Eve, who was looking out again towards the loch.
“It’s just I thought I recognized…” Eve paused and looked enquiringly at Moira. “I saw some photos in Angus and Elizabeth’s place.”
“Photos?”
“Yeah. Esther and I, we had tea with them, the other day.
“Right. Okay. They didn’t say.”
“Angus showed me photos of you in fact.”
“I see.”
Eve looked into Moira’s eyes as they searched Eve’s face.
“You were eighteen, about to go to college in one of them. You looked happy. And in another you were felling trees—impressive.”
Moira blushed and looked down.
Eve became briefly silent again, focused on the view, before asking, “You must go back a long way together.”
There was pause before Moira said, “Yes.”
Eve stood silently with Moira looking out to the distant hills, beyond the loch. More partygoers could be heard laughing up the hill.
“Eve, it’s getting late. Let’s walk home, yes?”
Before they moved away, Eve pulled at her hat, trying to remove it from her head.
“They’ve gripped it on. Really, they treat me like I’m four.” Eve struggled to remove the tartan beret. “I’m the easy-going, not-to-be-taken-seriously Eve, who will do whatever. I mean, look at me. I look ridiculous.”
Eve was breathing heavily. Giving up on the beret, she leant her elbows on the fence. It was all she could do not to cry.
“Here, let me.” Moira carefully removed the grips that held the beret. “All gone, Eve, all gone.”
“Thank you,” Eve mumbled into the ground, embarrassed at her outburst.
“I guess…” Moira leant on the fence again. “It’s easy to live your life more for others than yourself. Although, maybe the situations we find ourselves in are more likely a result of our own making.”
Moira’s wistful words made Eve want to ask Moira if she had any regrets, but it didn’t feel right.
“You’re very wise,” Eve said, admiration coating her words like honey.
“Wisdom is all very easy in retrospect, Eve. The most stupid of people can be wise after the event.”
“I guess so.” Eve could feel a stray grip down her bra. Pulling out her shirt, she peered in, and then fished out the offending object.
As Eve looked up, she slowly took Moira in. Moira’s light blue shirt was untucked at her waist. Her shirt collar was crumpled slightly at her neck. The soft curls of her hair brushed against her collar. Eve could feel the effects of Jane’s Jungle Juice blurring the edges.
“I like you.” Eve looked directly at Moira. “I like you very much.” Eve held the fence as she spoke, as if she needed to steady herself, as if the ground felt unreliable.
Moira didn’t say anything.
She was looking at Eve with an expression that suggested she was trying to work something out, as if Eve was a difficult puzzle.
“Let’s head home, yes?” Moira said again, tenderly.
Eve nodded. If she was honest, she didn’t quite know what she expected Moira to say.
Reaching the gate of Loch View, Eve stopped. “Well, I guess this is me.”
“Goodnight, Eve. Sleep well.” Moira turned and walked towards her croft. She dug in her pocket for the keys to open the front door. Sensing that Eve hadn’t moved, she looked back to Loch View. “You okay?” she called across. Moira glanced behind her at the main house of Foxglove. Both Foxglove and Loch View were in darkness. She walked back over to Eve. “You can’t stay out here all night.”
“Okay, I know this is going to sound weird, but I’m not a weirdo, I promise, Moira.” Moira shook her head, confirming that she didn’t think Eve was. “But if I go inside, then…” Eve paused and looked at Moira.
“Then?” Moira encouraged.
“If I stay out here, I’m still somehow in the same space, the same air, the same energy, that we are sharing now. I don’t know, it’s like you’re still here somehow.” Eve frowned and shrugged.
“Right.” Moira looked at Eve, who was clearly fighting back tears, and then at her croft. “You want to come over for a bit? For a hot drink, before you go to bed?”
“No, I mean, it’s okay, I don’t want to put you out.”
“No? Then what is it you want?” Moira hadn’t meant for her words to sound so irritated.
“I…” Eve was looking at Moira’s neck. Moira felt unsettled, exposed by the intensity of Eve’s gaze upon her.
“Eve?”
“I—sod it.” Without any further explanation, she placed her arms around Moira’s waist, and hugged her.
In return, off guard, instinctively, Moira held Eve close against her.
“I’m sorry,” Eve mumbled into Moira.
“It’s okay, Eve. But—”
Eve released her hold. “Of course, I’m so sorry, Moira.”
“Don’t be sorry, it’s just—”
A random blast of bagpipe echoed down the hill from the hall.
“I know,” Eve said, nodding. “It’s just you don’t feel the same and that’s okay, really. I won’t bother you again.”
“No, Eve—”
“It’s okay, I’m sorry.” As Eve said these words, she unhooked the gate, leaving it open to bang behind her, and rushed inside.
Numbly, Moira shut Loch View’s gate and returned to her home. The words I’m sorry repeated themselves in her head. She walked into her sitting room, poured herself a whisky, and leant against her sideboard.
Feeling cold, she roughly rubbed her arms. It felt as if, when their embrace ended, Eve had taken all of Moira’s warmth with her. Even though she had held Eve for just a few seconds, Moira’s arms felt oddly bereft of her. A gust of wind blew against her door. Her heart raced; she couldn’t tell whether she wanted it to be Eve or not.
Despite rushes of excitement, amusement, embarrassment, confusion, all Moira was left with was an intense feeling of sadness, a sadness that felt painful. Her whole body felt bruised. What Moira Burns would do, should do—if anything—about Eve Eddison, she simply did not know.
Chapter Eight
When Moira held Eve in her arms, she instantly recognized those intense feelings, the rushing sensation that overwhelmed her body, and for a fleeting second she was twenty, a third-year student at the Scottish Agricultural College, Ayr, and holding Iris Campbell once again.
“Hello, I’m Iris Campbell, from Inverness.” Iris stood knee-high in a boggy stream, smiling back and holding out her muddy hand towards Moira. They were working on a project together to monitor the health of the local streams that ran through farmland into the River Ayr.
“I’m Moira Burns. I’m from Newland.”
“I love tadpoles. I love to watch them scooting along. I love to watch them grow.” Without drawing breath, Iris continued, “My mother has a phobia of frogs, we get loads in the garden. Our neighbour has a pond, and well, when they jump she screams the house down.” Iris let out a loud scream to emphasize the point.
Moira jumped and looked around her to see if anyone had noticed.
“Right, yes, they’re jumpy,” Moira said hesitantly, not quite believing she was chatting with the infamous Iris Campbell.
Moira had seen Iris around the campus and at various lectures, but up until this project they had never spoken. This was mainly because Moira had spent the first two years of her course either in the library or working from home in Newland.
Towards the end of their first day together, Iris said, “I’ve seen you in lectures and stuff, you know, before today.”
Moira felt her cheeks tingle. “Yes, I’ve seen you too.”
“Well, I’m quite noticeable.” Iris made jazz hands.
Moira could remember the first day she’d seen Iris. She had stood in the queue for coffee, in her first week at college. Iris stood in front of her chatting to a group of people. She was telling them that they must do everything to preserve their Scottish heritage.
“Everything you can do, you should do,” Iris had emphatically declared.
Moira remembered that she had wanted to agree with Iris, to interrupt and confirm her support, but the words wouldn’t come. Only a fortnight ago, she had sat behind Iris in a lecture. She had watched Iris making notes and coughing into her hanky, fighting a heavy cold. Moira had wanted to recommend a herbal remedy Elizabeth had made her, but for some reason she felt she couldn’t. It was almost as if Iris was out of Moira’s reach. And yet, here she was standing and casually chatting with her.
“You don’t go to the Union much, then?” Iris asked, a curious expression on her face.
Moira was waist-deep in pond weed.
“No, I tend to just work, I guess, when I’m here. I socialize back at home, mainly.” Moira looked at Iris who was smiling quizzically back at her. “So, no, I don’t go ofte
n. I went in Freshers’ week though—”
Iris raised her eyebrows. “Freshers’ week? So not that long ago, then?”
Moira shrugged and looked away.
By the end of the second week, Moira and Iris had cleared the excess vegetation from the area of stream that they were to survey. They had agreed the methodology and had sketched out the plan for the next six weeks.
“I think we should test both the cleared area and repeat the test in some of the uncleared area.” Moira was filling in her time plan as she spoke, resting the sheet on her knees. As she sat, she dangled her wellied feet in the river. “What do you think?”
Iris sat next to her, scribbling what looked like a poem in a well-worn notebook. “Yeah, sounds good.” She looked up and squinted at the bend in the river further down. “It will need to be roughly in the same spot though. How about by the willow tree?”
Moira nodded, staring at the bowed tresses blowing in the wind.
“It’s been a good week. We make a good team, Moira Burns.” Iris gave a broad smile.
Moira felt self-conscious at the compliment.
“But, well, all work and no play.” Iris held out her hand to Moira and pulled her up from the bank. “They’ve created a new live music area in the Union, and I’m playing there tonight, with my band, The Bells.”
Moira tilted her head, smiled, impressed at the thought of Iris in a band, and asked, “The Bells?”
“Yes, it’s quite funny really. Three of us have the surname Campbell, but we’re not related, at least not that we know about, anyway, so we thought we’d call the band The Campbells. But then, that made it sound like we were a family group, you know, like The Von Trapps. So, well, we thought that was a bit crap, so we shortened it to The Bells. Anyway, I was wondering…if you wanted, you could come and watch us. We start at about nine. We could have a drink beforehand. What do you reckon?”
