Two Kinds Of Truth(53)

She smiles. “Best be quick, then.”

“Okay, I will.”

Bridget walks toward one of the makeshift tents. “I’ll be waiting,” she calls out without a backward glance.

I push the piece of paper inside my bag and then we head towards the music. Jamie leads the way.

“Ye seem to be getting rather pally with Bridget,” he says.

“Yes, she’s nice. I like her.”

“’Tis guid to see ye making friends.”

“Yes, I’m even surprising myself this time.”

“What do ye mean?”

“Well, I don’t make friends easily. I never have.”

Jamie turns to me as a bright fragment of moonlight shines across the side of his face. His brows furrow.

“Och, why is that, then?”

I shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’m a bit of a loner. I tend not to let people in.”

Jamie lets out a grunt. “Oh, I would ne’er have guessed.”

I tug at his hand and he stops dead in his tracks. “Before you say anything, I simply can’t help it,” I tell him. “You learn to protect yourself from the outside world when you’re raised in foster care. People often pretend to be your friend when they’re only out to hurt you.”

“What happened to you?”

I feel my muscles tense. “You don’t really want to know.”

He presses his hand against my arm. “Maddie, that’s where you’re wrong. I do.”

I take a deep breath. “When I was in care, particularly foster homes, the families treated me like I was something disgusting they found off the streets. They would invite me into their homes, but many did it just for the money. The men were usually the worst culprits. They would segregate me from their children and their wives. Leave me home alone whilst they went on day trips to the zoo or on family picnics. From an early age, I suffered seclusion and a life without love. I was never kissed goodnight or hugged, and if I ever fell and grazed my knee, they would ask my permission to touch me.”

“But surely that’s nae all foster families?”

“Perhaps not, but I was never lucky enough to meet the others. Instead, I grew up believing I was a freak. I made my way through society unloved and unwanted, building a wall so I could protect myself.”

“But not everyone’s yir enemy.”

“I know, Jamie, but I’ve been burned too many times to dare to reach out and touch the flame.”

“Is that how ye see me?”

My jaw drops. “No, of course not.”

“Then why won’t ye let me in?”

“Jamie, it’s nothing personal. After what I’ve been through, especially with men, I…I just can’t.”

There’s a peel of laughter and I swing around. Through the last of the stragglers I see Rhona and Gordon heading our way.

I breathe a sigh of relief and dash towards them.

“Och, we’re ready for our beds. Are ye ready too?” Rhona asks, pulling me into a drunken embrace.

“Actually, yes, I am,” I say as she hugs me to her bosom.

“What about Jamie?”

He nods. “Aye, we all may as well call it a night.”

Rhona links her arm inside mine. “Come on, let’s get out of here. It’ll take us at least another hour to walk home.” She pulls me close and whispers in my ear: “I hope ye wish comes true.”

“How do you know what I wished for?” I ask.

She shakes her head and lets out a sigh. “Ye dinnae need the brains of an archbishop to work that one out,” she says, and I laugh because it’s true.



Rhona and I wander along the track, laughing and dancing and hugging one another, as though we were born sisters. The men are close behind, but we’re surrounded by darkness. The only light illuminating our way is the new moon’s bright silvery crescent. We’re halfway through singing The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond when Rhona stops and says: “This is where we have to bid ye a fond farewell.” She hugs me tight. “It’s been a memorable day and one I’ll cherish,” she slurs. Gordon comes over and hugs me too and then slaps Jamie on the back. We both wave goodbye as Gordon throws his arm around his wife. They stagger, somewhat drunkenly, onto a track that will lead them to a spot where they’ll be picked up by a close family member.

Jamie and I carry on the last leg of our journey. He walks beside me and I laugh as he keeps bumping into me.

“You’re drunk,” I say.

“Aye, and so are ye,” and he gives me a sharp nudge in the ribs with his elbow. I giggle and grab his arm, allowing my fingers to slide towards his hand, which he locks in his own. He pulls me close and we walk together in silence, contented in one another’s company. I stare ahead to see the dark silhouettes of the approaching barn and outbuildings. The wind rustles through the trees and a security light flashes on as we approach the farm gate. Jamie lifts the latch and we push our way through, then head down the path to the Garden House.

Like teenagers we stand outside the cottage, facing one another. The last of the dark cloud has lifted enough to allow the moonlight to shine down onto Jamie’s face once again.

“I’ve had the most amazing day,” I say.