Two Kinds Of Truth(12)

“You’ve had that tractor for as long as I can remember,” Callum says.

“Aye, I bought if for less than a hundred pounds, second hand in the sixties.”

Jamie chuckles and slides down his chair a little. “I thought granda was going to have a heart attack when the dealer told him how much it would cost for a replacement.”

Alasdair noisily draws on his empty pipe. “Aye, and I’m sure I suffered a slight stroke when I was forced to part with my hard-earned cash.”

Callum’s laughter fills the room. His eyes are bright and his cheeks rosy from the fire.

“You’ve always been a tight-fisted old goat,” he says.

“Och, well, it takes one to know one,” Alasdair grins.

“Hey, less of the old, and stop casting aspersions on my good character,” Callum teases.

As the evening draws to a close, both myself and Callum offer to do the dishes. There’s no dishwasher in the house, no Wi-Fi or cable TV. The farmhouse is my retreat. The pressure of living in a digital society seems miles away when there’s no electronic distractions.

I fill a bowl with hot soapy water and slide in a few dirty dishes. Callum comes over, a tea towel dangling from his fingertips.

“You okay?” I ask, “only you’ve hardly said a word to me all evening.”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m just a little tired. It’s been a hard drive and a long day.”

He reaches for a plate covered in suds. The way he snatches hold of it tells me he’s tetchy.

I stop washing up and turn towards my husband. “Callum…”

“Look, Maddie, I said I’m tired.”

“I know, but I was just—”

“What? Making small talk? Let’s just finish up here and then you can get yourself off to bed.”

“So, that’s it? I’m dismissed, like a child, on your say-so?”

“No, I’m not saying that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

He shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. “Look, forget it. Go and do whatever makes you happy, but I’m having a wee dram with the men before I retire to bed.”

I turn back to the dishes and stare down at the bubbles, willing myself not to show any hurt, to hide it from him. I want to have a drink with the men, too. And doesn’t he realise it’s spending time with him and his family that makes me happy? I thought coming here, to Scotland, would rekindle the magic we once shared together, before our love life became focused on endless sperm counts and unsuccessful egg fertilisation. But now I think it’s just about Cal seeing his brother and grandfather again.

I feel a surge of anguish and thrust my hands deeper into the hot water, determined to hold it together. There’s no point getting upset. My energy would simply be lost on him.

We finish the washing up and I decide to call it a night.

“Goodnight. I’ll see you all in the morning,” I announce.

“Night,” Callum replies, planting a kiss on my forehead. I study his face for a moment, trying to read his expression, but Alasdair interrupts my train of thought when his arms wrap around me.

“Sleep tight and dinnae let the bed bugs bite,” he chuckles, giving me a tight squeeze.

“Aye, guid night, lassie,” Jamie says, reaching inside a cupboard and pulling out three glass tumblers. “I guess it’s been a long day for ye.”

I stop at the door and watch the three of them as they prepare to enjoy a bottle of fine malt whisky. For the first time since I became a part of this family, I feel like I’m an English outsider—a Sassenach. I turn one last time, and Jamie catches my eye. His cheeks are pink and flushed. He gives me a wink, completely unaware of my torment and the sadness that plagues Callum and I. He doesn’t know about the babies I cannot have. Without uttering a word, I return to the sanctuary of the Garden House.

***

The next morning, Callum wakes me with breakfast in bed, a tea tray in his hand. I smell the wonderful aroma of coffee and sit up.

My lip curls into a smile. “Hey, good morning. Is that for me? What a lovely surprise.”

He has the decency to look a little sheepish.

“It’s from granda. He thought you needed spoiling.” I lift an eyebrow and my smile slips from my lips.

“Oh, and you don’t, I suppose.”

He offers me the tray and I take it, placing it on my lap. He doesn’t say another word yet his eyes hold mine.

“Talk to me,” I whisper. “Please, Callum, tell me what’s wrong.” He lets out a sigh and turns away, but I quickly grab his arm, forcing him to turn back to face me.

“I’m sorry; I can’t take you to the loch today. Jamie’s supposed to take granda into Inverness this morning, but the farm’s prize bull has gashed its leg and it’s badly hurt. Jamie’s going to have to wait for the vet, as he’s the only one who can control the beast, so, I’ve agreed to take granda, instead.”

It’s not what I expected him to say. Still, it doesn’t matter.

“No problem. Give me five minutes and I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t think so. Not this time, anyway.”

I tilt my head in shocked surprise. “But—”

“I mean, thanks for the offer, but we’re off to the farmer’s market. Granda’s eyesight isn’t very good and Jamie and I don’t want him driving all that way on his own. We’re delivering livestock to sell and we’ll be gone for the best part of the day. I’ll also be helping him to unload the animals when we get there.”