by Ali Carter
Beep, beep, beep. My alarm is going off, it’s time to get ready for the night ahead. I pulled on my clothes, feeling a little bit guilty about looking up the Muchtons, especially while I’m still under their roof. But I know myself only too well: when I’m on to the scent of anything vaguely interesting, there’s very little that will stop me prying. My biggest problem now is that I must not let anything slip. I wouldn’t like anyone to know quite how nosey I am by nature.
Bang on six o’clock the gong sounded for high tea and, all done up, I headed downstairs.
‘You go first, Susie,’ said Fergus.
There were two huge dishes of Auchen Laggan Tosh lamb lasagne steaming on the hotplate. Mhàiri, standing proudly at its side, pulling off her oven gloves, said, ‘Once yous have, Susie, would yous mind giving me a wee hand with the other things?’
‘Not at all.’
I put down my full plate and skipped through the swing door into the kitchen.
‘Only the one course the night. Baps to fill youse up and a wee salad for your greens. Will yous carry the butter and the wee salad, I’ll take these baps and we’ll come back for the others.’
We placed them on the table and as soon as we were back in the kitchen Mhàiri planted herself in front of me. ‘I was right, Susie,’ she said, her eyes wide with excitement, ‘that lady Jane’s been here afore.’
‘How do you know?’
‘When I went to clean youse bathrooms this morning, I found her in your corridor.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She said this big hoose with a children’s corridor reminded her of growing up.’
‘Not that she’s been here before?’
‘No but I bet you she has. How’d she ken the wains’ rooms were down there and why was she looking at them?’
‘You might be right,’ I said to sweeten her. Mhàiri thinks she’s right and I don’t want to dampen her excitement even if I’m yet to agree Jane has been here before.
‘I am correct, pet.’ She winked at me and handed over the final bowls. ‘Thanks fer your help.’
‘That’s okay.’
I re-entered the dining room and everyone was now seated around the table. The variety of clothing was very amusing. Jane, Felicity and Rupert looked as if they were out for Sunday lunch, pastel colours and high collars, a cardigan over the shoulders in case it gets cold. Giles had on a striped shirt with one too many buttons done up. Minty looked pretty in a thin person’s floaty number, Lianne had an all hugging no hiding halter-neck-top-mini-skirt combo going on, Louis was in his usual pale jeans and a white t-shirt under a dark blue shirt, Fergus hadn’t changed and Shane was in a grey tracksuit, my goodness it looked comfortable. Zoe wasn’t coming out. She felt queasy.
‘You look great,’ said Louis, rubbing shoulders with me as I sat down beside him.
‘Thanks. Do you know if Ewen’s coming?’
‘Dressing up for him, are you?’
‘No,’ I grimaced.
‘I don’t think he is. Didn’t go down too well this afternoon. Just us lot. Funny crowd to be going out with but it is a drawing session I suppose. Would you like some wine?’
‘Yes please.’
He filled my glass and held his up for a toast. ‘Here’s to the night ahead.’
I smiled and turned to Zoe on my other side.
‘Rather nice for you all to get out tonight,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine anything spectacular but I’m sure you’ll have an amusing time. Fergus is excited, he’s even asked Donald to be the driver. I’d so love to be coming but the early stages of pregnancy aren’t agreeing with me.’
Ever since I’d seen Zoe down the corridor, coming out of the locked wing late last night, I’ve been trying to work out what was going on. If she heard something in the night you’d think she would have woken Fergus, sent him out to see what’s up. Not gone to check up on their most precious possessions alone. I’d certainly use a man as my protector if I had one in my bed.
It’s not as if she’s looking pale now and she’s eating along with the rest of us, so maybe she has a plan for when we’re out?
‘Poor you,’ I said. ‘But we’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.’
‘Yes,’ said Louis, leaning over me, ‘you can get some rest while we’re out.’
Zoe nodded and told him he could probably do without another late night.
‘Another?’ said Louis, looking confused.
‘You and Ewen were up late, weren’t you?’
‘Oh yes, so we were,’ he said as if he’d forgotten.
‘Susie, I’m sorry he turned up on the moor this afternoon.’
‘It actually lifted all our moods.’
‘Oh good. Fergus was furious but I’m sure it will blow over, he’s not one to drag these things out.’
‘Honestly, it wasn’t a problem.’
Zoe smiled. ‘I’m sure Ewen didn’t mean any harm. Up on the moor is where he gets his inspiration.’
‘He knows a lot about painting, doesn’t he?’
Zoe’s face, that one which wears emotion so well, looked seriously doubtful.
‘How do you know?’ said Louis.
‘Rupert and I stopped by his house this morning.’
‘His house?’ said Zoe, looking at Louis, and I wondered what was going on between these two.
‘Yes.’
‘He let you in?’ Zoe was still looking at Louis.
‘We had a bit of time to spare.’
‘I see. Poor Ewen being woken so early.’
‘He was, as he said, up, just not dressed. I did feel a bit bad but he honestly didn’t seem to mind.’
‘What makes you think he knows about painting?’ Zoe wanted to debate the point.
‘He is a painter,’ said Louis, and Zoe laughed.
‘Yes, and he gave Rupert a very good rundown on atmospheric perspective.’
Rupert was sitting on Zoe’s other side. ‘Ah,’ she said, turning to include him. ‘Did Ewen show you any of his work?’
‘No, though I did ask to see his studio.’
‘And he wouldn’t let you in?’
I answered, ‘He wouldn’t let either of us in.’
‘That’s because he only lets his best of friends have a peek,’ said Louis. ‘Aye, Zoe?’
‘I learnt my lesson the hard way,’ she smirked. ‘One day I was looking for him, and marched straight in. He wasn’t very happy and has locked his door ever since.’
‘Bit over the top,’ said Rupert.
Zoe came crashing down in Ewen’s defence. ‘I don’t see why he should have to show other people.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Rupert apologised. ‘I’d just like to know what kind of pictures he paints?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘You must have an idea,’ he cajoled. ‘He told us he works from photographs.’
‘Highland landscapes, I think.’
Where has Zoe’s insouciance come from? Her conversation has really gone off the boil tonight. One minute she’s engaged, the next she’s offhand, almost as if there’s something preying on her mind, coming to the forefront, receding and then surfacing again. Does this happen when one is pregnant? A downside if so.
‘Hey Louis,’ I said, ‘maybe you’ve been taking photographs for Ewen?’
He stared at me unamused.
‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.’
‘When would I have had the time?’ He was cross. Guilty I bet. If Louis has been taking pictures, the huge file downloading on Ewen’s computer this morning could have been them. Which would figure…Louis exploited the broadband allowance. Ha. No wonder he didn’t say.
‘I love photography,’ giggled Zoe. ‘You must take your camera out when you’re painting. I’m having a website designed for future courses and we could really do with some good pictures on it. I simply don’t have the time.’
‘Are you a photographer too?’ Louis flattered her.
‘I enjoy it
when I do it.’
‘So do I,’ he said, winking at me.
‘What’s your opinion, Susie,’ said Rupert, ‘of people painting from photographs?’
‘Well, I feel strongly that you have to sit in front of the real thing and at least do a sketch to get the atmosphere of the place. I wouldn’t dismiss photographs,’ I smirked at Louis, ‘but only as an aid.’
‘Do you ever use them?’
‘Yes, for pet portrait commissions but only once I’ve been to meet the pet in question. I’d find it impossible to capture their character without.’
Louis looked at his watch. ‘Nearly time to go,’ he announced.
‘I do hope you have fun,’ said Zoe.
The ting of Fergus’s glass silenced us all. ‘Let’s get a move on. Out of here and into the bus. The performance starts in an hour.’
‘How long’s the journey?’ said Jane.
‘Forty-five minutes at the most.’
‘I’d better go and spend a penny then,’ said Felicity and we all got up and left the room.
The town hall architecture was a Caledonian reading of the Gothic, a Scottish Baronial Revival building with a far-from-Baronial woman on the door. Ms let’s-keep-the-show-on-the-road and don’t stop and look at my cleavage even if you think it’s asking for it ushered us out of the cold and into the building. She was wearing a two-sizes-too-small underaged outfit and as her head turned into the pitch-black interior save for a few flickering candles, her extended eyelashes pointed us on our way. ‘Full house the night, come on, get a wee move on, in youse go, that’s right, tickets to me, then youse can grab a table, roll up, roll up, on you go, keep movin’. Thank you, Sir. Ladies first.’
‘No,’ she exclaimed at the sight of Lianne’s mobile. ‘No taking pictures. This is a private show.’
‘I was just using the torch to find the table.’
‘Yous eyes’ll soon adjust. No torches and no telephones, Missy.’
On we went, sticking close together, caterpillaring our way through occupied round tables. There were at least three lairy men to every done-up woman and as we crept our way to find a free seat it amused me to think, if only they knew we’d brought an Earl.
It was eight to a table so Fergus and Rupert spilled on to another and as soon as we’d sat down Rupert generously offered to buy the drinks. ‘This one’s on me.’
‘That’s really kind of you, mate,’ said Shane, ‘but there’s no way I have enough cash for a round.’
‘I’m sure no one will expect it, so don’t worry about that. But I would like to. Wine for the ladies?’
We all bent across the crushed velvet tablecloth and tried in the glow of the tea-light to make out the list of drinks on the A4 sheet. Rupert meanwhile waved his hand at one of eight blonde bombshells buzzing around the room on roller-skates. It wasn’t long before one rolled up and Rupert, unable to raise his eyes above her teeny-weeny kilt and fishnet suspenders, practically drooled on the table.
Jane and Felicity shared a bottle of white, Fergus and Rupert a bottle of red, a Diet Coke for Minty, a shandy for me and fizzy lager for the rest.
‘Susie, what is it you’re wanting us to do?’ said Minty.
‘Quick sketches of the performers is what I was thinking.’
‘We’re awfully close to the stage,’ said Rupert.
‘More like a catwalk,’ said Lianne, quite rightly.
‘So Miss, you’re thinking they’re going to appear from behind that curtain?’
‘Duh, of course they are. That’s what Susie wants us to draw.’
‘Energetic scribbles of what’s in front of you.’
‘Doodles,’ said Rupert.
‘Yes. The rhythm of the music should help you get into it.’
And at the mention of the word a great big BANG came from all four corners of the room. A strobe light projected the rays of a rainbow on the ceiling and, with deafening volume, the R&B club song ‘Hot in Herre’ pounded out. A shriek came from the doorway, all heads turned and a lofty woman in a hooded cape wobbled her way towards the stage. The music quietened, lights went down and we were plunged into darkness. Wolf-whistling tore through the silence and then, boom went the speakers, up went the volume, on flashed the lights and here on stage, having abandoned her cloak to the words ‘I want to get my clothes off ’, was the woman in a silver leotard and red stilettos. With a single split of her legs she was down on the ground and a buff man in silver buttock-hugging shorts appeared from behind her. He pranced a circle round her shadow, and with the spring of a leveret he leapt over her head, laying himself down right in front of us. His arm then stretched out towards our table and Felicity shrieked. The soundtrack took a clunky switch to Frank Sinatra’s ‘Come Dance with Me’ and the woman, much to the relief of her crotch I would think, stood up and strutted her stuff down off the stage. She stopped, hovering over our table, beckoning Felicity’s hand. Lianne bounced up out of her chair and with a ‘Don’t you worry, this one’s on me’ she willingly linked arms with the proposer and headed up onto the stage. She was presented to the man and with great cheers from the crowd they waltzed cheek to cheek up and down the stage.
The performance ended, the lights dipped and Fergus’s, ‘Isn’t this great,’ took me by surprise.
‘It’s not burlesque, that’s for sure,’ said Louis.
‘I’m loving it,’ said Giles, toasting Minty’s glass. She gave him a half-hearted smile in response.
‘Thank you, Lianne,’ said Felicity. ‘You really saved me there.’
‘That’s okay, I adore this stuff.’
There was a loud commotion as a group of latecomers entered the hall. A roller-skater led them to the only free table, one near us, and as they filed in I counted ten men. Eight sat down and two spilled over with Fergus and Rupert. One man had the most amazing curly mop of hair. I craned my neck to get a look at his face. Oh heck…what a nightmare…my heart raced out of control and, winded to the core, I shut my eyes. What on earth is Toby Cropper doing here?
A hand squeezed my knee and my body jumped.
‘All right?’ said Louis. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you.’
I gave him a smile. There’s nothing like revenge to turn up the attraction. Louis was going to be my target tonight.
The music began again, softly this time then gaining in volume as the pink strobe hyperactively dashed round the room. Onto the stage bounced two bodies dressed as Playboy bunnies, complete with big shiny-white front teeth. One masked figure had beautiful smooth legs, the other a hairy pair of tree trunks, and as they bopped around the stage, giving each other bum bumps, it all seemed quite innocent and fun. But then, DJ B’s dance mix started and the performance turned into an orgy à deux. One bunny began humping the other from behind, the latter grinning as it aped eating a carrot. The whole performance was so amateur you couldn’t help but laugh. Even Jane had a smirk on her face. Humpty hump hump they went until, completely exhausted, one cradled the other in its arms, stroking her ears until the soundtrack ran out. To uproars of applause and stamping feet the pair merrily hopped off stage.
When the lights came up I could see out of the corner of my eye that Toby was talking to Fergus. Suddenly he looked straight across at me. His eyebrows rose as high as a kite. Oh crumbs, he got up and was now coming around the table.
‘Suthie,’ he slurred as he bent down and kissed me. ‘Never thought I’d see you here.’
‘Me neither,’ I replied as Louis stretched his arm across my waist.
‘Louis Bouchon, nice to meet you.’
‘Toby Cropper.’
Then, looking round the table, flashing his charming smile at everyone, he said, ‘You’re all on an art residency? Suthie’s your tutor?’
‘Yes,’ grinned Minty, rising to his good looks.
‘You must be a friend of Susie’s?’ said Jane.
Toby looked me up and down. ‘Yes.’
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘Stag do
with that bunch over there.’
‘Yours?’ said Louis as my heart went into palpitations.
‘Not yet,’ said Toby with a laugh.
‘If you want to catch up with Susie,’ said Lianne, ‘I can swap places with you.’
No! No! Lianne you silly girl. My insides cramped up until Toby said, ‘You wouldn’t really want to, they’re a rowdy bunch over there.’ Then looking at his friends, who were having a right laugh, he said a quick, ‘See ya, Suthie,’ and was off.
Giles clicked his fingers and a waitress arrived.
‘What can I get ya?’ she asked.
‘Lager for everyone?’ said Giles. Jane and Felicity had hardly made a dent in their bottle.
We all nodded and pooled our cash.
‘Bet you didn’t expect to meet an old lover here,’ Louis whispered in my ear.
I froze. ‘Not much gets by you French.’
He winked at me and smiled as if he knew I needed a bit of cheering up.
‘Has anyone done any drawing?’ I asked.
‘Jees Miss, you don’t really expect us to draw this?’
‘I can’t take my eyes off it,’ said Giles. ‘That last girl was a real corker.’
‘I’ve done a bit,’ said Minty, laying her sketchbook flat on the table.
‘And I’ve done this,’ said Lianne, showing us hers.
Minty had drawn a looming figure in a hooded cloak and Lianne had done one big scribble. It was of the strobe lighting, I think.
‘It isn’t the drawing type music I imagined,’ said Louis.
‘It’s nothing like what I imagined,’ squawked Jane. ‘I know,’ I reassured them. ‘It’s out there, that’s for sure, and don’t worry about drawing if you don’t want to. It’s not the subject I thought it was going to be.’
