Two Kinds Of Truth(24)

I rise early and leave Callum asleep. I get dressed and head over to the farmhouse, where I’m relieved to find there’s a warm welcome waiting for me.

Alasdair’s standing by the stove, cooking bacon and eggs.

“Mornin’, Maddie,” and he stops what he’s doing to come over and plant a kiss on my cheek. “Has yir headache gone?”

I nod and he hugs me before heading back to the cooker. I go over to the kitchen cupboard, pull out two mugs and make us both tea.

“How’s Callum?” he asks, his face sombre. “Suffering with a bad head, no doubt?”

I shrug. “More than likely.”

“Jamie’ll be back soon; do ye want some breakfast making, hen?” but I shake my head. It’s far too early for me. “No, I’m fine, thanks, granda. Have you eaten?”

Alasdair nods. “Aye, I’ve had a bowl of porridge. Fill’s ye up for the day, so it does. Anyway, I was wonderin’ what ye going to do with yourself today?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t the foggiest idea,” I admit. “Perhaps I’ll go for a walk, or hang around the stables.”

“Och, ye could maybe go down to the burn? It’s a wee bit bleak this time o’year, but there’s a wee stone erected by the locals to commemorate the Battle of Culloden, which ye might find interestin’.”

I place both cups onto the table before pouring the tea.

“The Battle of Culloden is pretty big in these parts, yeah?”

“Aye, of course, it’s big. ’Tis the place where the clans were almost wiped out by the English. Approximately seven hundred Jacobite warriors were killed within minutes of the battle commencin’.”

I pull a grimace. “That’s terrible. All those poor people, how they must have suffered.”

“Aye, that they did. And over twelve hundred clansmen either lost their lives or were wounded that fateful day. It were a terrible time for Scotland, and one that will ne’er be forgotten.”

The front door bangs, and seconds later, Jamie comes hurtling into the kitchen.

“Mornin’, granda,” he says, but he’s not so enthusiastic when he spots me sitting at the table. He nods, curtly, then looks away. He heads over to Alasdair. “I could eat a scabby horse, I’m so damn hungry,” and he grabs a buttered bap and takes a large bite.

“Ne’er mind ye stomach, lad; are the cattle fed and watered?”

Jamie nods, swallows, and then stuffs the last of the bread straight down his gullet. I can’t help but chuckle: he really has been around the animals for far too long.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“You; your silly antics remind me you’re just a big kid at heart.” He comes over and tousles my hair.

“Hey, keep your hands to yourself,” I cry. His fingers entwine with mine as I try to force his hands away, but he’s strong and I have to squirm to get out of the way.

“Who’s the kid now?” he laughs, letting go.

I smile. The truth is I’m not mad at Jamie for what happened last night. I understand he drove Callum to the bar, but it’s better he went with someone who’d watch over him than go into town alone. It frightens me when my husband drinks too much. He’s another person when he does. Callum admitted himself that after binge drinking he’s like a timebomb waiting to go off. I don’t wish to see that part of him, ever again. Having the Police bring him home once is once too many.

I sip my tea and watch Jamie out of the corner of my eye, when he comes and sits beside me. Granda places a greasy fry up in front of him and Jamie reaches for the salt and pepper. On his plate there’s eggs, bacon and traditional potato scones. There’s also three slabs of black pudding. They remind me of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but then I look away: they’re made with pig’s blood, which I find totally disgusting.

“What’s wrong, Sassenach, don’t ye want to eat something that’ll put hairs on yir chest?”

I turn back towards him and slap his shoulder, playfully with the back of my hand.

“No, thanks. You can keep that revolting stuff to yourself.” He sniggers, picks up a fork and starts eating his breakfast as though he hasn’t had a decent meal in days.

I pull my lips into a frown. The smell of fried food so early in the morning turns my stomach queasy.

“I think it’s best I get going before that grease clogs up your arteries and I have to administer CPR.” I grin to myself, convinced neither of these two have ever heard of high cholesterol or heart disease.

I go through the ritual of going over to the sink and washing up my cup, then push it back into line with all the others in the cupboard.

“Where ye off to?” Jamie asks, shovelling the black pudding down his throat.

“Oh, just down to the burn. I’d like to go and see the memorial stone granda was telling me about earlier.”

“Aye, it’s a sight to see, all right. Do ye want any company?”

I give him a broad smile. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I’d like to go there on my own if that’s okay?”

Jamie shakes his head. He doesn’t appear offended.

“Och, very well, but watch yir step on the brae.”

I cock my head to one side. “Sorry…the what?”