Two Kinds Of Truth(26)

“Maddie?” and her squeal is infectious. “I thought you’d never call.”

“Hey, how are you doing? I’ve no excuses,” I confess, “I’ve just been really busy.”

“So, you’re both having a great time. Right?”

I heave a heavy sigh.

“Maddie?”

I look across at the mountains, as though they’ll help me with my inner struggle. “Well, so far the trip hasn’t quite gone to plan.”

“What do you mean?”

I pause. “Things still aren’t right between us. Callum’s acting like a Jekyll and Hyde, and I don’t know what to do.”

“How? In what way?”

“Well, for instance: only last night he just took off. I came down to dinner to find he’d left for town. I tried to ring him, but he’d switched off his phone. I was left fuming all night. Then, when he came home, he was so flippant about it. It was as though he didn’t care that his actions had hurt me, as if I didn’t mean anything to him. I’m losing him Keira. I swear, I can feel it.”

“I’m sorry, hunny, but I don’t know what to say.”

“What is there to say? And then of course, there’s Jamie.”

“Jamie? What’s he got to do with anything?”

I look down at the ground, see a small stone and give it a kick.

“Maddie, spill. Right now, you hear?”

I heave another huge sigh. “I almost kissed him.”

“You did what?”

“I know. It just…happened.”

“How the hell could it ‘just happen’. And where was Callum while all this was going on?”

“It’s a long story, but to cut to the chase: he was at the farmer’s market with granda and Jamie took me to the loch in his place. We were just enjoying a picnic and messing around, and…and I lost control.”

“Did he try to kiss you back?”

“No. He acted the perfect gentlemen and I played the fool. I apologised, and he said to forget it. He said he wouldn’t tell.”

“And has he been true to his word?”

“One hundred percent.”

“And nothing’s happened since?”

“No, of course not. Like I said: he’s a real gent.”

“Do you want it to?” she asks, lowering her voice.

I press my lips together and shove my fingers through my hair.

“Maddie? Maddie, are you still there?”

“Hmm, yes, I’m here.”

“Look, I’ve got to be honest: I think you’re playing with fire.”

I hear the concern in her voice and try to reassure her. “It was just a silly mistake, and it was all over in a millisecond.”

“And you’ve learned your lesson? After all, you’ve a lot to lose.”

“Yes, and I do love Callum. I just need to get things back to how they were before we lost our way.”

Tears are now stinging the backs of my eyes. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later…tonight.”

“Okay, but promise me you’ll not be foolish again.”

“Oh…I think I’m losing the signal. I’ve got to go. Bye.”

As I wander over the grassland, I go over our brief conversation. Keira will understand my torment, and I do feel better for having told someone about Jamie. Now I’ve come clean, even if it’s just to myself, I can finally put the whole episode behind me.

I catch sight of a stream running past to one side, an old stone bridge up ahead. I leave the path and make my way over, soon spotting a strange-looking stone sticking out of the earth on the far side of the stream. I assume it’s the one Alasdair told me about earlier this morning.

As I cross over the bridge, I see the stone stands by the water’s edge, and Jamie was right: it is wet and muddy. But I’ll have to go down the bank if I want to read the inscription, which I can’t quite make out from where I’m standing.

I go to plant a firm foot on the damp grass, but no sooner does my boot come down than my foot slips and I practically do a somersault into the air. It happens too quickly to save myself, and my legs fly from beneath me, my arms flailing above my head. It’s over in seconds as I bang the back of my head and land on my backside, all at the same time. I’ve hit my coccyx and boy does it throb. The ground is littered with sharp stones and large tufts of grass, which feel like knives pressed into my back. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths, angry and upset that I’ve managed to hurt myself. I wait until the pain subsides before I try to sit up. When I do, I rub the back of my head to discover a painful lump.

“Hey, are you all right?”

I let out a low groan, feeling mortified: someone just saw me make a complete spectacle of myself. I wish they’d disappear and leave me alone, but the stranger calls out to me again and then she rushes over. A young woman bobs down in front of me and wags a finger in my face.

“How many do you see?”

I shake my head. “Really, I’m okay. I’m not concussed. The only thing I’m suffering from is a dent in my dignity.”

She stares at me for a second longer, as though I’ve said something nuts, and then realisation must dawn on her, because she smiles. At thirtyish, she’s perhaps a year or two older than me, but I can’t quite tell because she’s wrapped up in layers of winter woollies from top to toe.