We were renting a little house just outside the town centre. Since the death of my parents, we’d been talking about buying somewhere of our own. Alice was getting frustrated with what she said was my lack of ambition. She wanted me to open a recording studio in Oban and begin to make something of myself, but I was enjoying meeting all the musicians that came into the shop to jam. It was like one long recording session at the place, and I loved the vibrancy and electric atmosphere I encountered every day.
My best mate, Connell, had started working as a music teacher at a school in Oban after following us to move there. His girlfriend was a barmaid at a club in town and so weekends were spent drinking and dancing. I was loving life for the most part. Except for the arguments.
Friday came around. It was the second-to-last weekend in August and we were going to a gig over in Inverness. A band made up of our former uni pals, the Mad Batters, were playing at The Ironworks, which was quite an exciting event as far as I was concerned. I arrived home from work about an hour earlier than normal. Alice was still at work and so I jumped straight into the shower.
As I was towelling myself off, the phone rang. I grabbed the receiver and tucked it under my chin. “Hello?” I said as I hopped around drying my feet.
“Hi, Greg, mate. Look, I’m really sorry but I cannae make it tonight.”
“No way? Why the fuck not, Connell? We’ve been looking forward to this for fucking ages, mate.” I couldn’t disguise the disappointment in my voice even if I’d wanted to.
“It’s Sarah, she’s really sick. A bug or something. Throwing up like something off The Exorcist. Can’t leave her, mate. Sorry.” There was a muffled sound as Connell shouted to Sarah in the background. “Look, mate, I’m sorry. I’d better go, okay? Talk to you tomorrow. Have a great night.” He hung up.
Fucking knobbing fuck! I threw down my towel. Okay so my night was semi-ruined, but at least Alice and I could go. I dressed in my black jeans, black boots, and my favourite Soundgarden T-shirt. Making my way downstairs, I chuntered to myself about the convenience of Sarah’s supposed illness. She never wanted to fucking go anywhere, that wee lassie. Drove me fucking mad.
As I stood in the kitchen making mysel’ a coffee, the front door opened and Alice walked in, looking pale and miserable.
“Oh, great. Not you as well?” I know my attitude was selfish, but I could see my eagerly anticipated night rapidly going down the Swanny.
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, not me as well?”
“Connell rang. Sarah’s throwing her guts up and so he can’t go tonight.”
“Ah. That explains it, then.” She dropped her head and sighed heavily.
“Explains what?”
“The reason I’ve been throwing up all day. I was going to come home, but we’re pushed out trying to get ready for the fashion show in Glasgow next week.”
I walked over to her and helped her off with her coat. Concern came over me. “Do you think you’ve got what Sarah has?”
“We were with them last night and the night before. Stands to reason one of us would get it.”
“Aye, I suppose so.”
She stroked my cheek and hugged me. “I’m so sorry, Greg. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to tonight, but I feel crappy. I just want to sleep.”
I dropped my gaze to the floor. She couldn’t help being ill. I tried really hard not to let my disappointment show through. “You go on up to bed, babe. I’ll bring you a drink.”
She smiled up at me and kissed my cheek. “Look… why don’t you still go, eh?”
I shook my head and hugged her to me. “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay and look after you.”
“All I’ll be doing is sleeping. The sickness has stopped. You’ve been looking forward to this for so long. Just go, sweetie. It’s fine… honestly.”
I brightened a little. “Really? But—”
“I insist that you go. If you stay here, I’ll feel guilty and you’ll be over the top with the nursey thing.” She was right. I couldn’t stand someone I cared for being ill. I tended to go a bit far.
I kissed the top of her head. “Okay. Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Thank you, babe. Get yoursel’ to bed, eh?”
“I’m going.” She made her way upstairs. Around an hour later I checked on her and she was sound asleep. I kissed her head and left her to recuperate.
Climbing in my Landy, a relatively new acquisition—not brand-new, but new to me—I set off for Inverness.
Chapter Fourteen
August 2001
The journey from Oban to Inverness was going to take me almost three hours, but I’d got a great soundtrack for the trip. I sang along as loud as I liked as I drove the winding roads of the highlands, surrounded on all sides by bracken-covered outcrops and lofty mountains that appeared to touch the fading azure-blue canopy overhead. The sun began to set as I travelled; the red, orange, and purple glow to the sky behind the mountains was so stunning that I came over quite emotional. I could never tire of Scotland and its beauty. I knew exactly what Dougie MacLean was singing about in “Caledonia”.
An hour into my journey I was busy singing along to “In The End” by Linkin Park when my mobile phone began ringing. I could barely hear it over the CD blaring out, and so I leaned to turn the volume down a little. I’d left the phone on the seat and nervously glanced over. Shit, is it Alice? I swerved as I looked down at it, trying to get a look at the caller ID. Realising it was stupid to try and read the screen on the move, I pulled over and grabbed the phone.
Sarah? Confusion washed over me.
I clicked to answer. “Hi, Sarah. Are you feeling better?” I tried to sound friendly.
“Better? What are you on about? I’m fine. Can you pass the phone to that arsehole of a boyfriend of mine please? He’s got his phone switched off, and my Mum is asking if we’re coming down again in October. I need to check with him.”
I laughed. “Very funny, Sarah. Tell him to stop arsing around. I’ve still got a ways to go yet.”
“Greg, what on earth are you waffling on about? Just hand him the sodding phone, will you?” She was getting angry? At me? She was the one messing about.
“Sarah, come on now. I’m glad you’re feeling better, okay? But I’m hanging up now.” I clicked end call and was about to pull out into the traffic when my phone rang again.
“Hi, Sarah. What is it now?” I couldn’t hide my annoyance.
“Can I speak to Alice, then? At least I’ll get sense out of her.”
“Sorry, Alice is in bed ill. She’s got the same as you.”
“What? A set of annoying parents who like to plan ahead?”
I scrunched my face. I had no fucking clue what she was talking about and I was getting more pissed off as the seconds passed. “What?”
“Greg… I will ask you once more and then I’m going to get really angry. Please can you pass the phone to Connell.”
“And I will tell you once more. He is at home with you, seeing as you’ve been calling to Huey all fucking day.”
“He really isn’t with you?” Ah, bingo! The penny droppeth!
“No, Sarah he’s with you.” There was a long pause on the line. “Sarah? Are you still there? Look, I’ve got to go or I’m going to be late.”
“Erm… Greg, he isn’t with me. I’m down in Manchester with my parents. He stayed home to go to the gig with you.”
Huh? “Oh… that’s odd. He rang me earlier to say that you were ill and he couldn’t leave you.”
“I see. I don’t get it, Greg.” I could hear the worry in her voice.
“Me neither. Just hang on, I’ll call Alice see if she’s heard from him.”
“Don’t bother. Her phone’s off too.”
“Oh… yeah, that’s right. I turned it off before I left. Didn’t want her being bothered, with her being ill.”
“Do you think something’s wrong, Greg?” she asked after another pause.
“Is he having an affair, Greg?”
Anger bristled at my skin. “What? Why the fuck would you ask me that?”
“Because you’re his best friend. And you have a tendency to stick together. But… please tell me if you know he’s having an affair. Don’t let him make a fool of me.” Her voice wavered.
“He’s not having an affair, Sarah. He adores you. I’m sure there’s some logical explanation for this.”
“Yes… I hope you’re right.”
I heaved a long sigh. “Look, I’ll go home and check at yours, see if he’s alright. I’ll give you a call, okay?”
“But what about your friends’ gig?”
“It’s no bother. I’d rather make sure Connell’s okay.”
“Thanks, Greg. I really appreciate it. I owe you one.”
My laugh was small and rather humourless. “Aye, you do. Bye, Sarah.”
I hung up the call and turned the car around. Disappointment mixed with apprehension. What the hell was Connell up to? If he was having an affair, I’d fucking kill him. I drove at the top end of the speed limit all the way back to Connell and Sarah’s house. The place was in darkness. I hammered on the door and peered in through the window, but there was no one there.
My mind whirred as I tried to figure out where he could be. I decided to head back to my place and check in on Alice, seeing as I was in the area. Then I’d set back off and catch the latter part of the Mad Batters’ show.
I pulled up outside the house and switched off the engine. Once I climbed out, I walked to the door and unlocked it as quietly as I could in case Alice was still sleeping. Sleep was the best thing for a sickly person after all.
I heard noises coming from upstairs. Fuck! It’s a good job I came back when I did. Alice was crying out—bastard that I was, I’d left her alone and sick. I jogged up the stairs and burst into our bedroom.
Alice’s eyes snapped to mine and she screamed.
Connell lifted his head from between her thighs and simply said, “Oh fuck.”
My heart almost stopped dead.
She scrambled up from the bed and gathered up her clothes, hopping around the room as she dressed. My chest heaved and I literally saw red. Lunging forward, I grabbed my naked best friend by the throat and punched him in the stomach. Then I punched his face. His nose crunched and blood spattered everywhere.
Alice screamed and scratched at me. “No! Greg, please. Leave him alone. Nooooo!”
But I kept on punching him until he lay in a crumpled, snivelling heap on the floor. Then I turned to Alice as she stood there sobbing. She began to back away. As if I’d fucking hit a woman.
I shook my head as I stepped in front of her. “I loved you, Alice. I loved you despite the shit you’ve put me through. Well, no more. It’s over. It ends right now. Don’t call me. Don’t come looking for me. I will never forgive you for this.” I could hear the pain and anguish in my own voice, but I was determined not to cave.
Not this time.
I took my mobile phone out of my pocket and dialled Sarah’s number whilst I stood in the room, seething, before my wife and her bloody lover. And I’m using the word bloody in the literal sense of the word.
Sarah answered after one ring.
With a raspy voice I said, “Sarah, darlin’, I’m sorry to do this to you, especially over the phone. But your boyfriend is a lying, cheating, scumbag bastard. And he deserves my lying, cheating, scumbag of a wife if you ask me. He’s been fucking her. I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but I’ve just found them in a rather compromising situation. So much for their fucking lies. Now I suggest you stay where you are, with people who actually give a shit about you, and have someone remove your stuff from the house as soon as possible. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.” I hung up before she could answer.
Grabbing a bag once again, I shoved all of the possessions that I could carry inside it, zipping it up when it was full to bursting. Picking up my keys, I walked out of the door and didn’t look back.
I reached the Landy, threw my heavy bag in the backseat, and climbed in behind the wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, I was greeted by the words of “In a Big Country” by the band Big Country, and the music somehow lifted me. Stuart Adamson seemed to be singing just for me about shattered dreams. A sense of serenity came over me and I actually smiled as I listened. He was right. It was time to leave.
Chapter Fifteen
May 2011
After the debacle that was my visit to Mallory’s, the day after the gig where I’d sung the song that broke her, I managed to avoid her for a while. I figured the less I saw her, the less harm I could cause.
It was a Sunday around the second week in May, and I’d just stopped into the pub to pick up my pay from Stella. As I climbed back in the Landy, I saw Josie and Brad’s van driving away from Mallory’s house. It looked like the last of her visitors was going home. Poor lass. Now she’d be alone in that new house. My chest twinged at the thought. I leaned forward and put the cash in my glove compartment and then sat back up and turned the key in the ignition. I caught sight of Mallory and her little black dog walking away from the cottage. They stopped at the midpoint of the bridge.
I set off and pulled up alongside where they stood. Winding down the passenger-side window, I shouted over, “Hey, Mallory, how are you doing?”
“Oh hi, Greg. I’m okay, I think. Having my moments.” She smiled that beautiful smile that made my insides twist.
Deciding to be brave and face up to the mistake I’d made at the pub that night, I climbed out of the Landy and jogged around to her.
“Look, I wanted to apologise for that night in the pub.” I ran my hand through my hair—a bit of a telltale, but I couldn’t prevent myself from doing it when I was nervous. “If I’d known…”
“Look, don’t worry, you had no clue. How could you have? I’d had quite a bit to drink too, which I don’t think helped. Really, please don’t worry.” Her smile was warm and caring. I knew she was trying to stop me from feeling guilty, but I couldn’t help it.
“I just felt so bad. I came round the day after.”
“Yes, Josie said so. You don’t need to worry.”
“Aye, but every time I speak to you, I put my foot in it.”
Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. I was fucking mesmerised. Her smile got wider. “Well, if it’s any consolation, up to that point in the evening I thought you were really good.”
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. Now you have to understand, I don’t embarrass easily; but receiving a compliment from this gorgeous girl did something strange to me, and I suddenly felt like a school kid with a fucking crush.
“Really? Thanks. I’m hoping to do it again soon. You should come along. Are there any other songs I should avoid?” I asked with a slight hint of a cringe.
“No, just that one.”
“Okay, noted. Keep a lookout for the blackboard at the pub… well, that is, when I’ve made one. Right, well, I’d better go. I’m off to fix a leaky tap at Colin’s. He tried to do it, but I think it’s something a bit more serious than he thought.” I rambled on about shite as usual and walked around to climb back in the Landy. “I’m glad you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be, eh?”
I fastened my seat belt and watched her as she fiddled with her hair, tucking it behind her ear. She was losing weight, and those sexy curves of hers were disappearing. Absentmindedly I wondered if she was eating.
“Anyway, you should come up to the pub for some food sometime. Stella makes the best steak pie, and you’ve lost too much weight since you moved here, you’re looking like you could use a good meal.” As soon as the words left my fucking stupid mouth I clamped my hand over it.
The ghost of a smile slipped from her lips, and her brow crumpled. Her gaze slowly drifted to the pavement beneath her feet.
Too late, McBradden, you wanker. Removing my hand, I cringed. “Fuck. I really
should just not talk to you, eh?” I shook my head, put the car into gear, and set off at speed, feeling like a complete and utter arse.
Again.
I began to think it was doubtful that I even had a brain-to-mouth filter. If I did, it needed new batteries or a good bloody clean out.
Although Colin and Christine lived just over the way, I drove in the opposite direction. I was mortified at what I’d just said to the poor wee girl and couldn’t think straight. I glanced in my rearview mirror. She looked hurt. And I’d done that. She peered down at her body and pulled at her trousers where they hung from her hips. She began walking again and I turned to concentrate on the road.
What an arsehole I was.
As I drove I decided that there was no way she’d set foot in the damn pub again. I turned the car around and headed back to the village to Colin’s. Luckily by the time I’d driven off my feelings of mortification, Mallory and Ruby were nowhere to be seen and so I pulled up, grabbing my tool kit, and made my way into the shop.
Colin was a great bloke in his late fifties with greying hair and kind eyes. He was fairly slim and a good few inches shorter than me. “Hey, have you seen anything of the new lassie recently? Mallory, I mean?”
I scratched the back of my neck and cringed. “You could say that.”
“Oh? Why do I detect a hint of negativity, Gregory?”
I hesitated, firm in the knowledge that he’d berate me just as I’d done myself. “Well, you know the other night at the gig?”
A wide smile appeared on his face. “Oh, yes. I meant to say to you how well it went. Chrissy and I loved it.”
“Thanks. I wish I could say the same for Mallory.”
His brow crumpled in confusion. “She seemed to be enjoying it… before she up and left with her friends.”
“Aye, well… the reason she left was I sang ‘Chasing Cars’. It reminded her of when Sam proposed. It really broke her heart, Col. I felt terrible. And I know I wasn’t to know,” I said, forestalling the reassurance. “But that’s not all.”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. What else have you done?”
Bridge of Hope Page 8
