Two Kinds Of Truth(41)

“There’s a café in the department store over the road,” he tells me, and points to a black and white building. “It isnae grand, but it’s close enough so ye dinnae get yir hair wet.”

We make a dash for it, crossing the road and pushing our way through a set of revolving doors. It’s how I find myself sitting in a somewhat mundane café on the third floor of House of Fraser. It’s all beige walls and plastic chairs, but I have to admit, the coffee’s pretty good.

The shop’s heaving with a multitude of daily shoppers. Damp coats from the unexpected downpour cover the chairs, and sodden pushchairs filled with baby bottles and towelling bibs block the aisles. Young children share muffins and kick each other under the tables, whilst grandparents give each other warning glances as they sip their Frappuccinos, looking frazzled.

Jamie’s oblivious, enjoying a large Mocha with a convoy of marshmallows floating on the top, which reminds me of white fluffy pillows. Considering I wasn’t in the mood to shop, he’s surrounded by several large shopping bags. Inside one of these is a new transistor radio for Alasdair.

Jamie lets out a contented sigh. I’ve pretty much dragged him halfway around Camburgh today and yet he’s never grumbled once. I thought he’d be miserable or even moody after the explosive argument with Ally earlier, yet it doesn’t appear to have dampened his spirits one iota.

Jamie drains his cup of the last marshmallow and I help gather up all the shopping bags. We head towards the escalator, which will take us back towards the perfume counter. I’ve still to find the perfect gift for Keira.

I don’t know how, but we haven’t come back the way we came in, taking us past a brightly coloured decorated section filled with miniature tutus, bright buttoned onesies and a selection of I love my mum bibs. My heart sinks as I spot the baby clothes, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop myself from pawing at the soft material of a little boy’s sailor suit. It has a tiny beret, edged with blue ribbon, and there’s matching booties, too. Miniature dolphins jump over wiggly blue waves, too much for me not to resist lifting the outfit off the hanger and letting out a sigh.

“It’s cute,” Jamie says, and I nod in response. I’ve developed a lump in my throat as I visualise the little boy, my little boy, who should be here to wear it.

“Yes,” I rasp, reluctantly putting it back. “I guess we should be going.”

“Why not buy it for Findley?” he suggests.

Surprised at his thoughtfulness, I turn and face him. I can read his expression, though, the sorrow he feels for me, and my spine stiffens.

“No, it’s okay,” I say and turn to walk away.

“Och, don’t be like that. ’Tis a lovely gift, and I’m sure Rhona would appreciate the gesture.”

I reach out to take the suit and his fingers brush against mine. Just for a second Jamie’s eyes meet mine and there’s a moment of shared understanding. We both jerk back, though, as if we’ve each touched a live wire.

“Sorry,” we both say simultaneously, and then we laugh at our awkwardness.

“Best take this wee suit to the cashier’s desk,” Jamie says, and I nod and open my handbag, lifting out my purse.

“Put yir money away,” Jamie insists. “I’ll get this for the bairn.”

“But—”

“Nah, no buts. It can be a gift from the two of us.”

I follow Jamie to the counter and watch the assistant place the sailor suit inside a pretty yellow and white cardboard box, which she then ties up with white ribbon. Jamie pays the assistant and then presses the package into my hand, as though the gift is for me.

“Here, take it,” he says, and my fingers cling to the bow as though I’m carrying something precious inside.

“I’m positive Rhona will love it,” I say, and we make our way to the escalator.

We head over to the perfume counter and I pick out a beautiful boxset of perfume with matching body lotion. “Keira will adore these,” I tell Jamie. “She loves anything that smells of flowers or the orient.”

“Have ye been friends for long?”

“Yes. Since school.”

“Ye seem to rub along well together.”

I laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Is she married?”

I give him a sideways glance. “Why, are you interested?”

He chuckles, opens the door to the department store and stands aside to let me pass as he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just curious, that’s all.”

I’m pleased to see the rain has stopped, but it’s left an assortment of grey puddles, shimmering like silver mirrors along the road. We dash along the pavement, careful not to get our feet wet, and cross the street to where Jamie’s parked the car.

“She’s divorced, actually,” I say as I wait for him to open the back, so we can pile in the shopping bags.

“Is that why she’s always happy to help run yir shop?”

“One of the reasons, I guess,” I say and walk around to the passenger door. “We both have a passion for nature, especially flowers. But she’s extremely creative and makes the best bouquets and arrangements. Keira’s even taken top prize at The Hampton Court Palace Show and came runner up in Interflora’s Florist of the Future Award.”