The Skylark's Secret(40)
The drive back to the base at Mellon Charles was slow, hampered by the weight of the damaged Tilly, which floundered behind the ambulance on its tow rope like a drunken whale with Bridie at the wheel. The stir of their arrival brought the camp’s commander out from his hut. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of the damaged car and they rose further, almost disappearing beneath the peak of his cap, at the sight of the injured ordnance officer.
‘Take that man to the surgeon. And you – Miss Macdonald, is it? Report to my hut once you’ve washed that oil off your hands.’
Flora shot a sympathetic look at Bridie, although her friend seemed unabashed at the prospect of a dressing-down from the commander himself. After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d had a run-in with a sheep, and there was also the occasion when she’d met another Tilly head-on and had a narrow miss, although that time it had been the other driver who’d ended up in the ditch.
By lunchtime, Bridie had been reassigned from her driving duties to a role behind the counter in the NAAFI where the scope for wreaking devastation on the camp’s fleet of vehicles was considerably reduced. But, as she remarked cheerfully to Flora and Alec later over a port and lemon in the Jellyjar Tavern, she felt it was a role to which she was better suited, having gained valuable experience under Mrs Carmichael and the ladies of the Rural. Everyone came in and wanted to chat as well, so it was a good place to hear all the news.
And besides, the ordnance officer with the broken wrist had been in to see her and had invited her to go to the film show at the hall with him the following week to watch the latest Laurel and Hardy picture.
‘Goodness!’ said Flora, laughing. ‘Who would have thought there’d be so much excitement to be had in Aultbea, of all places?’
Lexie, 1978
By the time I’ve finished giving Bridie strict instructions about Daisy’s bedtime routine – even though I know she’s not paying the slightest bit of attention to what I’m saying as she’s too busy bouncing her on her knee and telling her stories about her granny – there’s already music spilling from the bar when I reach the hotel.
My stomach contracts with nerves as I push open the door and step across the threshold. Maybe it was a mistake to come out tonight. What if there’s no one here I know? Will the fact that I’m brazenly walking into a bar on my own reaffirm my status as a fallen woman?
But everyone in the warm fug, which is heavy with the smell of beer and cigarettes, is too intent on enjoying the music even to notice. Then I catch sight of Elspeth and her husband, Andy, and one of the other mums from the playgroup with her partner, sitting at a table in the corner.
Elspeth waves me over. ‘Lexie, we were wondering where you’d got to. Bridie told me she’s babysitting Daisy tonight – she’s been that thrilled about it all day.’
‘Hiya, Lexie,’ says Andy. ‘Good to see you again after all these years. What are you drinking?’ He insists on taking my order, and threads his way through the crowded room to the bar, stopping to exchange banter with several other men along the way.
I settle myself in the chair that Elspeth’s been saving for me and feel the tension in my shoulders ease a little. Perhaps it’s going to be okay after all. I thought I’d be a stranger, but I discover I’m among friends.
I turn my chair slightly so I can watch the musicians. There’s Davy on his guitar alongside an accordion player, a drummer with a bodhrán and a fiddler. They’re in full flow:
‘I’ve been a wild rover for many’s the year
And I’ve spent all me money on whisky and beer
But now I’m returning wi’ gold in great store
And I never will play the wild rover no more . . .’
The music swirls and flows, its tune as easy and as sure as the tides in the loch, rising and falling and sweeping us all along with it. Every foot taps along in time as the whole room joins in the chorus, raising the roof:
‘And it’s no, nae, never,
No nae never no more
Will I be a wild rover,
No never no more.’
As the song ends there’s a whooping and a cheering and then the band takes a break, leaving their instruments to come to the bar where they’re passed drinks on the house.
Davy pushes his way through the throng to where we sit and Elspeth shuffles along, making space for him between us.
‘So you came after all,’ he says, shouting to be heard above the din. ‘I thought you might get cold feet at the last minute and I’d be landed with Bridie for the evening instead.’
‘She’d have shoved me out of the house if I’d tried to stay. She and Daisy’ll be having a party of their own, I’ve no doubt, involving way too many chocolate buttons and very little chance of getting to bed on time.’
‘All the better for you then; she’ll sleep later in the morning. So you can have another drink and enjoy yourself. How d’you like the band?’
‘They’re good,’ I say. ‘Of course, the guitar player could do with some practice, but the others are great.’
‘Watch it,’ he replies, laughing. ‘We’ll be getting you up to sing later and then you might be thankful for a bit of guitar accompaniment.’
I duck my head, regretting teasing him, then meet his gaze and my eyes are wide and pleading. ‘Not tonight. Please, Davy, I’m not ready to sing again yet.’