Two Kinds Of Truth(35)

“How about I get a round of drinks in?” I say.

“Sounds great. But they’re on me,” Callum tells me. “Maddie, what will you have?”

She smiles up at him. “A Gin and Tonic, please. And easy on the ice.”

“Jamie? What about you?”

I shrug. “I’ll come with ye and have a look what’s on offer.”

Maddie sits down at the table and I point to the pub menu. “Why don’t ye have a look for next time ye visit. They cook great food here, and I promise ye, the Rosemary and Minted Lamb is to die for.”

“All right,” she says, and places her handbag down onto the chair next to her before picking up the laminated menu.

“We’ll be right back,” I say, and Callum and I head towards the pub’s entrance and make our way to the front of the bar. The bartender is stacking glasses, and Callum waves a hand in the air to catch his attention. The man puts down an empty crate and hurries over.

“Hey, Stuart, how’s it going?” Callum asks.

“Not too bad, thanks. I’m just covering for a lassie who’s sick tonight.” He greets us both with a firm handshake. “Okay, lads, what can I get ye?”

“I’ll have a pint of Stella,” I say. “Callum? What will ye have?”

He moves closer to the bar, pondering the choices, leaving me free to steal a quick glance over at Maddie. She’s still studying the menu, but she looks lost sitting there, all on her own. There’s other customers milling around her yet it’s as though she’s the only person in the room.

“Isn’t that right, Jamie?”

“Eh? Sorry, what was that?” I say as I snap my head back towards Callum.

“Stuart, here, reckons his team’s going to win tonight, but I’ve told him we’ve got a secret weapon in Maddie.”

I laugh and grab my beer. “Yeah, sure; whatever ye say, bro.”

“Here,” and he thrusts his wife’s drink into my hand. “Can you take it to her. I’ll be over in a minute.”

I nod and head back towards the table. I notice a look of relief sweeps across Maddie’s face as I approach.

“Sorry about that,” I say. “Callum’s busy telling anyone who’ll listen that we’re going to win tonight. The bartender’s an old mate from university.”

“Oh, it’s fine with me,” she says and takes a sip of her Gin and Tonic. “It isn’t often he gets the chance to see any of his old friends.”

“’Tis true; he’s rarely home these days and is a sight for sore eyes to some.”

Maddie nods and takes another sip of her drink.

“So, what’s yir first impressions?” I ask, pointing to a black and white picture of a famous sculpture of two horse’s heads known as The Kelpies. “I think they’ve done a great job giving the old pub a modern twist.”

“Yes, it works,” she says. “It’s certainly pleasant enough, and it seems popular with the locals.”

I lean a little closer. “Maddie, about earlier, in the stable. I really am sorry.”

She looks down at her drink and wipes condensation off the side of the glass with her index finger.

There’s a noise beside us and a door flies open. I glance up to see the landlord make an entrance. He shakes my hand as he passes. “It’s guid to see ye here tonight,” he says and gives Maddie a welcoming nod. I’ve known Malcolm since I was a child; played rugby for the county with two of his sons.

He dashes off and goes to stand beside a table that’s been prepared especially for tonight’s quiz.

“Guid evening, folks,” he says, picking up and blowing down a microphone. “I’ll be round shortly with pens and paper whilst Susie,” he points towards a barmaid, “will be taking yir money.”

The pub is much busier now. Most of the tables are occupied and there’s a buzz of excitement in the air. There’s a commotion, and I turn in my chair to see the regular customers, sitting at the other tables, start to clap their hands and cheer. I glance at Maddie, but her eyes are on them, too. I strain my neck to try and see what’s created such an uproar and spot a young couple making their way through the crowd at the bar. The man is all smiles and waving, and the woman, who I recognise as the landlord’s daughter, clutches something small to her chest.

My jaw drops when I realise she’s carrying a new-born baby, all wrapped in a white knitted shawl.

I turn back to stare at Maddie and watch as her face turns to stone. She doesn’t move a muscle, her eyes fixed solely on the child.

Once again, the landlord picks up the mic. “Come here, ye two,” he says, gesturing for the couple to make their way over. When they reach him, he puts his arm around his daughter and pulls her close.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. I’m sure ye all recognise young Rhona and her husband, Gordon. And I’m most proud to announce the safe arrival of our first grandson, Findley Fraser McGregor.” The whole place erupts with loud cheers and whistles.

I reach out and squeeze Maddie’s hand.

“Are ye all right,” I ask, but she’s quick to snatch her hand away, then jumps to her feet.

“Er, sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” and she grabs her bag and hurries through the applauding crowd, into which I watch her disappear. I imagine the sorrow she must feel looking at the child in its mother’s arms: to be physically able to bear children and yet not conceive, for the sake of her husband. Maddie’s determination to live a life under such constraints reminds me of Claire. All we wanted was to be a family, to have children of our own, but that and our every desire was snatched away in an instant.