I took a shaky breath. There was a kernel of the truth in there, though.
‘… I wanted her to know I did well without her.’
Kit nodded, ‘Well, that I can believe.’
‘I know it sounds stupid, but—’
She held her hands up, ‘Sounds like she got in your head and did a right number on you, hen, and you’ve a right to however you feel about it. But I’m telling you, that woman in the very expensive health facility has got no secrets left to keep. She hasn’t got anywhere to hide them anymore.’
It was decided that I would stay at Kit’s. I was dead on my feet, barely able to move, and she insisted. The roads through the Highlands could be treacherous for those who didn’t know them, she said, and I honestly felt like I could sleep forever. It was unlike the bone-weary exhaustion that never ceased in the wake of grief. That, I had become used to. A tiredness you never seemed to sleep enough to wake from.
This was something different altogether. It felt like relief. Like suddenly I could sleep without a fear of monsters invading my dreams. I fetched my bag from the car, drowsily noticing how there were no lights in any direction for what seemed like miles, the flat land giving way to dark mountainous curves in the distance, the sky hovering grey.
There was no sound. No cars, no animals despite the farm behind us… There was the quiet chatter of the television Kit had put on for background noise, but then a big, wide nothing. An expanse that seemed to steal sounds with its vastness.
The room Kit led me to was much like the rest of the house: practical and sparse, with the odd flash of comfort. There was a whitewashed rocking chair in the room by the window, a blue cushion and a knitted grey throw hung over the arm. The bed was neat and small, and hanging from the window frame was a sprig of dried lavender.
‘I hope this is okay for you, I’m sure you’re used to…’ Kit looked at me, her hands moving wildly, ‘well, I don’t know, but I imagine this isn’t it.’
I suddenly realised how little I’d revealed of myself that afternoon. I had asked questions and Kit had offered answers, but she knew nothing about me at all.
‘I… thank you, it’s wonderful. I really appreciate it.’
Kit huffed like pleasantries annoyed her, ‘It’s family, dunna fash. I’ll be up early with the animals. I’ll try not to disturb you. Sleep well.’
The last thing I remembered was noticing the fresh smell of linen, like it had dried in the sunshine, and then finally, for the first time in what felt like forever, I was asleep. Deeply, gloriously asleep.
‘But Kitty, what if she’s a charlatan, here to murder you and take your valuables?!’ The voice that came from downstairs the next morning was high pitched and insistent. ‘I know you’re out to be a bloody saint, but do you have to take in every wretch you find along the way? How do you even know she’s Nina’s daughter?’
‘There’s a particular look of terror people have when they’ve dealt with my sister on a long-term basis,’ Kit’s voice was rich with humour, then softened, ‘Dunna fash love, she’s a good girl and she’s been through a lot. She’s the image of my mother too, it’s unbelievable.’
‘Well, I’ll see it when I believe it,’ the second voice came back, and I wondered if I’d misheard.
‘I’m sure you will,’ Kit’s voice was mocking, and I could already hear the smile in it. ‘But don’t worry, I’ve already got a vial of her blood, ready to send off to the lab.’
‘You’re making jokes. A strange girl sleeping in your house and you’re making jokes. What if she is your sister’s girl, have you thought of that?’
‘Well, yes… that was the point, Effie.’
‘I mean your sister was always a manipulative cow, God help her, so what if her wee girl’s cut from the same cloth?’
I padded back to the bedroom, embarrassed at what I’d overheard. They thought I was here for Kit, for her money or anything else she had. Because that’s just what my mother would have done.
I got dressed quickly, already making excuses and finding justifications to whoever this Effie was. I felt vulnerable, and angry and confused. I’d just wanted an escape, just for a little while.
Last night, softened by whisky and firelight, staying made sense. We were family, that’s what Kit had said. Even I knew family put you up when you’d driven hundreds of miles and had two glasses of whisky after a shock. Whether you knew them or not, that was hospitality.
But this morning, even a look out of the window at the grey skies and muted greens showed me this was not my world to inhabit.
I held my head high as I came downstairs, but felt my eyes widen as I took in the breakfast on the table. It was a feast. My stomach rumbled at the sight of it. I’d survived on coffee most of the day before, too wound up and irritable to bother feeding myself.
‘Well, good morning,’ Kit smiled, widening her eyes at her companion in warning, ‘sleep well?’
I nodded, tried for a toothy smile that was more a grimace, ‘Yeah, thanks.’
‘Well, sit down, help yourself. There’s tea, coffee, toast, porridge, bacon and sausages. Eggs are on the way.’
Kit looked pleased as I sat at the table and looked around for the owner of the other voice, awaiting some kind of inquisition. She tilted her head.
‘This is Effie McCabe… she helped me with the breakfast. Runs a café in town.’
Both Effie and I looked at Kit in surprise at the strange description.
‘Oh aye, did I just wander in off the street to make your eggs?’
Effie was not what I was expecting from her voice. A small, round woman with short blonde hair that would have been a pixie cut if she knew how to style it. She looked at me, light blue eyes curious, seemingly taking in everything about me. I waited for the warnings and the snide comments. I’d had them most of my life, I was still used to them from Miranda. Dan’s mum had never missed a chance to make a comment about which of her beloved china ornaments would fetch the best price if someone were to get a little light-fingered.
When you were born poor, people never expected you to be good. Because, how could you be, if you never had enough?
I almost winced, waiting for it, but I met her eyes, willing her to see something decent, something real.
In that one moment, something seemed to switch, and Effie walked over and threw her arms around me.
I reached back automatically, patting her back, looking at Kit in surprise. Kit just shrugged and stole a piece of bacon. Effie smelled like cinnamon and brown sugar and butter, rather than the meats she had clearly just fried.
‘Oh you poor wee lamb! With your mother how she is, it must be quite a shock!’ Her accent was stronger than Kit’s, which now barely seemed like a burr in the back of her throat. Effie let go of me, stepping back. ‘And look at you! Skin and bones, you’ll need feeding up while you’re here. I’ll bring the eggs.’
I looked at Kit, who shrugged again. ‘Oh yes, she’s to be feared, no doubt. Who’s that dog at the gates of hell that sleeps if you play it the right lullaby? That’s our Effie.’
‘Excuse me, I’ll be having none of your nonsense,’ Effie replied with absolutely no offence taken. ‘I just wanted to meet the lass, is all, and anyone who looks at her can see the goodness and pain pouring out. How many eggs, darling?’
This, it seemed, was aimed at me.
‘Uh, one please.’
‘Two it is.’
Of course.
There was something so delightful in this forceful caretaking. I had never known anyone beyond Dan who was so insistent that I eat, and sleep and drink enough water. It felt like I was special enough for someone to notice, and I loved Effie immediately. It took a special kind of person to boss you around and make you love them for it.
Kit smiled to herself and poured me some coffee from a cafetière. ‘Oh yes, we can be fancy here too, you know. It’s not just London where you’ve got all your whosits and doodads.’
I snorted, and Effie chuckled in the k
itchen.
‘Were you up very early?’
‘Oh, the same as every morning. That’s why a good hearty breakfast is so important. Keeps your energy up.’
I wanted to ask her a hundred things – how long she’d had the farm, if she’d always known how to do it, if she was from Scotland originally, if we had a family kilt. I suddenly wanted to know everything, and I had to curb myself, as if asking even one question would create an avalanche.
I probably should have been thinking about my mother, but the idea of knowing these people, good people, and being related to someone who seemed kind… it was more than I could have hoped for.
Effie brought over the eggs, and piled up my plate, serving for everyone. We sat together, eating in a companionable silence that I was surprised by. No one seemed in a rush to speak, even Effie. The morning brought birdsong and breezes and the taste of bacon fresh from the pan. I felt like I could finally take a breath.
When everyone’s immediate hunger was satiated, I decided to ask a question. Something to make conversation, something innocuous.
‘Do you always have breakfast like this, every day?’
Oh, what a moron you are, Taz. For God’s sake!
But I’d been thinking about my sad little pot of yoghurt, how I ate sat at the breakfast bar, hunched over my phone and never finishing it because the idea of sitting alone for that long felt like torture. This felt like an event.
‘Most days,’ Effie smiled, daubing her mouth delicately with a napkin. ‘I like to know she’s fed. And she wouldn’t bother to do it herself.’
Kit rolled her eyes, but there was affection there. ‘Oh yes, I’d die of starvation, sixty-five years old and I’d waste away surviving on biscuit crumbs and black coffee.’
Kit gestured at Effie next to her, ‘Now the real story is that this one could be making decent money for her breakfasts in town, but no, she’s here for the gossip. If there’s something interesting going on, she’s out here to natter to me about it, or find out what I know.’
‘Not that Kitty is any good at detail!’ Effie huffed. ‘She may as well be a man for all the attention she pays. No mind for the juicy bits of a story.’
‘No mind to be sticking my nose in other people’s business, you mean?’ Kit replied, a holier-than-thou look on her face. ‘And I hold my head high for it, too.’
‘Oh, you’d never guess,’ Effie grinned at me, shaking her head.
I loved them. I loved their back and forth, and their warm way of teasing each other. No harm meant, no offence taken. Just comfortable.
I briefly closed my eyes as I chewed the last piece of bacon, savouring how delicious it was.
‘So go on then,’ I said when I’d finished chewing, rubbing my hands together, ‘what’s the latest gossip?’
Kit and Effie burst out laughing.
‘You, of course!’
‘What?’ I could hear the disappointment in my own voice, and the two women fell over themselves to let me know they weren’t laughing at me.
‘Oh no, we didn’t mean—’
‘It’s just—’
‘We meant—’
I held up a hand.
‘It’s fine, honestly. It must seem strange, me appearing suddenly.’
‘It’s more me, hen.’ Kit smiled softly. ‘Made a bit of a name for myself as a hermit. To suddenly have a guest, to have family… well, that’s a big bit of news for a town with a population under five hundred people.’
‘If it helps, it’s big news for me too. I didn’t have any family. I mean, I didn’t think I did.’
Effie’s eyes went to my left hand, and she nodded at it, ‘But you’re married.’
I nodded, ‘Nine years.’
‘Lord, married young. It’s nice when that works out. Everyone thinks it’s so old fashioned to grow up as you grow old with someone.’ Effie nodded at me with encouragement. ‘So, go on then, what’re they like, your person?’
My heart seemed to inflate and puncture at the thought of him. I suddenly missed him so fiercely that I wanted to rest my nose in the crescent of his neck and have his fingers wound through my hair like he’d never let go. I hadn’t even called him to say I’d arrived safely.
‘He’s… the best person I know. My best friend. He’s funny and kind and so talented. And he’d give anything to make me happy.’
I suddenly realised what a weird thing that was to say, but when you had our history, when he’d given up what he had to be with me, to keep me safe, there was no way to properly explain it without a big story.
‘Isn’t that what the people who love you are supposed to do, put your happiness first?’ Kit asked gruffly, and I felt suddenly like a gushing teenager talking about her crush, diminished.
‘Well, he was the first one who ever did,’ I shrugged.
It’s so easy to throw around those words. That you’d do anything, give anything, for someone you love. So few people follow it up.
‘Any kids?’ I heard Effie ask, pulling me from my musings.
Suddenly I wanted to throw up my breakfast.
You’ve got to get used to people asking, Taz. That’s what they do, it’s normal. It’s a normal thing to ask. I conjured Dan’s voice sometimes when I panicked about these things. My imaginary friend, a Dan from years past, gentler than the one I knew now. And more readily available.
‘No,’ I managed to choke out, and then busied myself with my coffee.
‘Ah, there’s plenty of time for all that yet, you’re no wee lass but you’re fine,’ Effie smiled, as if she hadn’t just kicked me in the teeth. Kit looked at her, eyebrows raised and lips pressed together.
‘You’re a nosey wee wench, Effie McCabe,’ Kit said pointedly, but her Effie ignored her, looking at me for an answer.
‘We… we’re looking forward to having children some day.’ I sounded strangely formal, the words sitting awkwardly in my mouth. It was my go-to phrase these days, a way to discount the past and focus on the future. If we had a future for me to go back to.
Kit tried to apologise with a look, and I shook my head, smiled at her. Dan was right, I’d had enough time to get used to it, for it to feel less like a bruise or a burn mark, to let the question arise and disappear like a wave. People would ask, it was only natural.
‘And you?’ I asked Effie, more in a desperate need to redirect the conversation rather than actual interest. ‘So you have kids?’
‘Good lord, no. I’m far too selfish. And unfortunately not a maternal bone in my body,’ Effie laughed, serving me another piece of bacon, straight to my plate without me saying anything.
I raised an eyebrow at Kit, who snorted, holding up her hands. ‘If mothering was just bossing people around and being a feeder, Effie would take a title. However, it does involve screaming, crying and bodily fluids.’
Effie shook her head, ‘No, not for me. I just about tolerate the cat.’
‘The cat just about tolerates you!’ Kit retorted.
Effie looked at me, tilting her head at Kit as if to say, Can you believe this?
‘Says the woman who voluntarily has enough animals to start her own travelling circus. Do any of them say thank you? Ask you how your day is? Buy you a glass of Pinot Grigio at the pub on a Friday night? Do they hell!’
‘Oh yes, selfish freeloaders, all of them,’ Kit laughed, and I tried to think of a good ‘horse walks into a bar’ joke, but went blank.
‘So, do you want to see the farm?’ Kit’s voice was hopeful. She tapped her hands on the table and stood up. ‘It’ll be a bit different to what you’re used to, I’d imagine. But it’s interesting…’
I nodded, not really sure what else to do. We hadn’t spoken about whether I’d visit Nina, whether we’d go together, but it seemed stupid to come all the way here and then not go through with it.
That was the point of it, right? To show Dan that I could forgive, I could move on, I could be that fun, loving, happy person I was in our twenties. I’d go say the magic words to
my mother, and boom, I’d be better.
Except what if she didn’t remember me? Was there even a point?
What I did know was that I already loved Kit. She was grouchy and sharp and funny. She absolutely didn’t give a crap what people thought, and yet she clearly wanted to look after everyone.
The idea of family was intoxicating. I’d been focused on making one, a new generation, but discovering one existed, with history and stories to share? It was impossible to resist.
Kit’s farm was not what I expected. Yes, there were the chubby pigs in their pens, and the few sheep that milled about. There were her chickens, and I liked the way she yelled ‘Ladies!’ as she approached, chucking seed every which way as they dived and scattered. She was a leader, weaving through her domain and being carefully watched by her subjects.
‘Do you… is this a working farm?’ I asked, trying to find a way to explain how little I knew.
‘Ah, you mean how can a wee farm like this survive?’ Kit raised an eyebrow, amused.
‘No, I just… I don’t know how farms work…’ I paused, ‘Do all the animals go off to be eaten?’
Kit shook her head, ‘They’re not the main event. Although the kids like to see them on their school trips.’
She led me round the back of the barn and I was surprised to find a stable, with six horses.
‘Now these boys are my money makers, for the most part.’
I said nothing, and Kit whistled at them, leaning on the stable door. ‘People pay to come and ride them around the land.’
‘You teach them?’
‘I used to, handed it over to one of the wee’uns I used to teach. She does a better job. In the summer we do fairs and fetes, and we take them around to the schools. The kids do their trips here to learn about farming and horses and the other animals.’
A young woman with red hair, brushing one of the huge horses down, smiled and waved at me. I actually stepped back in awe of her beauty, the natural freckles that kissed her cheeks and were scattered across her nose. She wore similar clothes to Kit, a practical gilet and dark jeans, but her shirt was a bold green that jumped out against the background.
The Things That Matter Page 9
