Two Kinds Of Truth(44)

I turn to offer Rhona the gift we’ve brought along. “It’s just something we bought for Findlay in town today,” I tell her.

Rhona’s eyes grow wide and she grins. “Oh, ye dinnea have to do that.”

“No, really, I…we wanted to buy him a small token.”

Rhona’s grin broadens. “Well, thank ye for being so thoughtful. Shall I open it now?”

I laugh. “Yes, please. After all, that’s the general idea.”

She unties the white ribbon and pulls out the sailor suit. Her eyes shine with pure delight.

“Och, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and he’ll win a few more hearts wearing this.” She glances down at Findlay. “You’re going to look a wee bonnie bairn, that’s for sure,” she adds and places the suit, with care, back inside the box. She comes over and kisses us both on the cheek.

“’Tis really kind of ye to bring Findlay a gift. Thank ye both for yir generosity.”

She goes and sits back down.

“So, how’s yir trip to Scotland been so far?” Gordon inquires, jovially.

“Oh, it’s been lovely,” I smile, “if a wee bit cold.”

“Och, ye think it’s cold now. Wait ’til the snow comes.”

“The snow…what snow?”

“Haven’t ye heard? It’s all over the news. It’s blowing in straight from Norway.”

“No. I had no idea. When?”

“Monday. That’s what the met office are saying.”

“I hope my husband’s back by then.”

“Callum’s away?”

“Yes, on business.”

“You’d best warn him. The last thing you’ll want is for him to be stuck in a snowdrift somewhere.” Gordon rushes off to the kitchen and then reappears with a tea tray filled with goodies. He places it onto a small table in the centre of the room.

“I hope ye like Dundee cake,” he says, and I nod enthusiastically.

“I adore cake of any kind,” I say, “especially when it’s filled with mixed fruit and topped with almonds.”

“I made the apricot jam myself,” Rhona says with pride. “And I’ll give ye a couple of jars to take home.”

I glance at Jamie and he nods. “Aye,” he says, “that would be grand.”

Rhona busies herself pouring the tea when Findlay starts to grizzle.

“I’ll pick him up if you like?” I say, trying not to sound too eager.

“Och, would ye? Thanks,” and Rhona sounds relieved. “I cannae have two minutes to myself these days.” I jump to my feet and dash over. The baby’s face is all red and he’s trying to put his fingers into his mouth.

“I think he’s hungry,” I say, holding him to my chest and rocking him. He smells of baby shampoo and talcum powder, and I breathe in the aroma. I love the smell of babies. His skin is soft, like velvet, and I rub my cheek against his forehead and kiss the top of his head.

“You’re probably right, as I’ve only just changed his nappy,” Rhona agrees. “Gordy? Will ye be guid enough to get him a bottle?” but Gordon is already halfway into the kitchen, and within minutes he’s back with the baby milk.

“Would ye like to do the honours?” he asks and offers me the bottle. I take it willingly.

“Sit in the chair; it’ll be easier to feed him that way,” Rhona says. She stops what she’s doing to push a bib over Findlay’s head. “Be warned: he’s a guzzler, so be sure to wind him halfway through the feed,” she advises.

I’m thrilled she trusts me. I place Findlay in the crook of my arm, and the second the bottle’s in his mouth, he stops crying. He looks up at me and I feel a rush of love.

“He’s such a gorgeous wee man,” I say, and glance up to smile at Rhona, but catch Jamie’s stare, instead, suffering a shudder of unease. I’ve never seen him look at me that way before. It’s so…intense.

“Have ye got any plans for this weekend?” Rhona asks.

I nod. “Yes. Jamie’s taking me to a pagan festival.”

“Been to one before?”

“No, not here in Camburgh, but I did visit a festival close to Stonehenge once. It’s a few years ago now, mind.”

Rhona sits a cup and a thick slice of Dundee cake onto a small wooden stool by my feet. “It should be a grand turnout. I’ve already seen a few young ’uns camping down by the brae.”

“I’m excited,” I admit. “There’s something magical about these ancient traditions, and I love having the chance to embrace nature.”

She tips me a wink. “Aye, best makes sure ye get yir wish ready.”

My brow furrows. “Sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

She looks at me in surprise. “It’s a new moon. Ye have to write yir deepest desires on a bay leaf and give it to the priestess.”

“A bay leaf?”

“Aye.”

“Whatever for?”

“So she can burn it during the ritual.”

“And to what end?”

“To ensure the pagan Gods make yir wish come true, of course.”

“You believe in such things?”