Watch Over Me (20 page)

Maisie was quiet, too.

My heart sank.

‘Daddy?’

‘Yes?’

‘See when we go to Australia?’

‘Yes?’

‘Will Granny come?’

I was silent for a minute.

‘Your granny? Darling, you know Granny is in heaven …’

‘Not at night, at night she’s on my bed.’

I didn’t answer. I have to admit, I was a bit freaked out. She didn’t say anything else about it and I didn’t ask.

‘Hi, Mum, it’s me.’

‘Hi, Eilidh, how are you? You’re phoning an awful lot these days.’

Yes, well, sorry. Trust my mum to say something like that.

‘I thought I’d let you know that I’m staying up here for Christmas.’

‘Well, that’s fine, but you can’t expect us to come up. Peggy can’t put up all of us and it’d cost Katrina a fortune to check into the Green Hat.’

‘No, of course, of course I don’t expect you to all come up.’ God forbid.

‘Will you not miss the kids? They’re your nieces and nephew, after all.’ She sounded reproachful.

Yes, I missed them. I missed my nieces and nephew, though Katrina never let us get properly close, never gave us time to get to know each other. But I love them to bits – Jack and the twins, and wee Molly …

‘Yes, of course, but I’m not ready to come back. Not even for Christmas.’

‘Katrina told me you were very cold with her when she phoned to invite you.’

No point in saying anything. My mum never listens if I say something even remotely critical of Katrina. And they have the same sense of diplomacy, so Katrina’s hurtful comments are their idea of being honest. Somehow.

‘I was thinking, maybe you and Dad would like to come up … just the two of you … maybe not for Christmas, but around that time …’

‘Us? No, darling, I’m sorry, but we just can’t. We’re spending the festivities with Katrina and the kids and then going down to Cornwall to see Jim and Laura.’

‘Oh, of course. I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘We need a proper holiday, you know.’

‘Yes, of course. Of course you do.’ Deep breath. ‘Have you spoken to Tom recently?’

‘Yes, he calls a lot. We reassure him you’re ok. I asked him, you know, about that girl. They’re living together.’

Oh. A pause, as I was trying to start breathing again.

‘I’m sorry, Eilidh. Good riddance, I say. I don’t know how I bring myself to speak to the guy! Your dad wants to go and punch him straight in the face!’

The thought of my peace-loving dad punching anyone defied belief.

‘No, don’t do that! Ok? I’ll sort it. Soon. Don’t worry. I’m ok. I’m ok … about it.’

‘As I said, good riddance. Have to go now, Eilidh. Must call Laura. Bye.’

She’d spend hours on the phone with Laura but always cut me short. No point in feeling hurt about it, that’s just the way it is.

After Christmas, I was going to sort out the whole thing. Speak to Tom, get the ball rolling about the divorce.

Divorce. God. What a harsh word. I was positively dreading it but it had to be done.

Peggy walked up to me. ‘Eilidh, dear, I couldn’t help overhearing what you and your mum were saying. Margaret and Sandy are coming for Christmas dinner. I’d love you to stay.’

‘I’d love to, if it’s ok with you.’

Peggy’s face lit up and it warmed my heart. ‘It’s a pleasure. You know, with the girls not coming back this year, it’s so good to have you here. Sandy and Margaret are on their own, too – James is staying down in London with the in-laws – so it’ll be the four of us. Are you sure you don’t mind being with us oldies?’

‘Oh, it’ll be wild, Peggy. We’ll be dancing on the tables and disgracing ourselves!’

Peggy laughed. ‘Oh dearie me. You’re such a
character
.’

‘Is it ok if I cook? I’m thinking of something alternative. Not the usual turkey, you know … something more … I don’t know, something to stretch us a bit. As chefs.’

‘Chefs? Oh dearie me.’ Peggy ‘dear me’s a lot when she’s excited. ‘Sounds great. I’ll have to make the trifle, you know; Sandy and Margaret don’t care much for Christmas pudding but they love their trifle.’

‘Great. I’ll get a panettone, too. Traditional Italian dessert.’

‘Italian? Oh dearie me …’ Again? Clearly, things were getting out of control. ‘I can’t wait to try it!’ She giggled.

‘I’ll make blinis with salmon and crème fraiche for a starter and … what about duck? Roasted duck with veggies and potatoes?’

‘Sure, dear, whatever, I trust your good taste. And I could do with a change. I’ve had years of turkey. Surprise me. Wait till I go and phone Margaret and tell her all about our plans.’

I smiled. Then an idea took shape in my mind; a thoroughly wicked, un-Eilidh idea.

Our credit card. Mine and Tom’s.

Maybe he hadn’t cancelled it.

Oh goodness me. Thoroughly dishonest.

Still, the man was living with his girlfriend. He’d had a girlfriend on the side for years while I was going through all that … maybe he even saw her while I was in the hospital …

Right. I’ll do it.

‘You going darling? Will you be back for lunch?’

‘No, I’m spending the day in Aberdeen, Peggy, do you mind? I’m going Christmas shopping.’

‘Don’t mind at all, my love, I’ll just sit here and watch the
Coronation Street
omnibus, warm my bones a bit.’ She gestured to the fire.

‘Sounds like a plan.’ I got ready as quickly as I could and walked out in the freezing air. As I was walking to the station, I checked the timetable. Great, only twenty minutes to wait. I was getting more and more excited with every step. On the train, though, I started having second thoughts about the credit card. Oh God, what was I doing? But then, we were still married. After all, I wasn’t going to ask for anything or want anything, he could keep it all, I didn’t care. But this shopping trip, oh, he owed me this.

Hills and moors flew past my eyes as I leaned on the window, sipping a coffee from a paper cup. Maybe he had cancelled the card. But I didn’t think so. It wouldn’t be like Tom, knowing that I wasn’t working, to leave me stranded. My mum told me that he’d asked many times if I needed money but the answer had always been no. I could easily live on what Peggy paid me. It wasn’t much but then, I didn’t need much. I didn’t want anything from Tom, just my freedom and a fresh start.

I knew that I had to sort myself out, secure a house, put some money aside. My savings pot was pretty small but I had my profession. I could find work in a nursery and keep lodging with Peggy until I had enough money for a deposit on a house. Get a mortgage. Have my own wee place, a full-time job. A life. It was all in front of me, a million possibilities, and I felt strong.

Aberdeen was freezing, freezing and shiny and beautiful. The shops were all decorated for Christmas and the streets were full of people wrapped up in hats and scarves. I’ve always loved Christmas. Even with the thorn in my side of not having children to enjoy it with, I still loved it. The trees, the smell of spices, the darkness of winter broken by the Christmas lights, the shop windows all lit up and festive. In the nursery, we used to do lots of wee Christmas crafts, and the nativity play for the pre-schoolers, and I enjoyed it all.

I had a smile on my face as I entered Station Square and walked towards Marks and Spencer. Peggy was in for a treat.

‘Delivery, please. Yes, next Thursday is fine. Peggy Watson, Holly Cottage, Glen Avich. No, no house number. Thank you.’

Duck, one.

Potatoes, three packets.

Mixed veg, three packets.

Panettone, two.

Smoked salmon, two.

Assorted ingredients for further cooking, lots.

Shortbread, five boxes (to give to our friends).

Whisky bottles, five (one for our table, one for my dad, one for Harry and Doug, one for Jamie, one for Fraser).

Courtesy of Mr Tom Davies.

I handed over the credit card resolutely, defiantly, but my heart was in my throat. Maybe I should have checked it first. Imagine the scene.

A very, very, very long time after, a whirr. The card had been accepted.

Ha. Revenge.

But then I felt guilty.

I walked out quickly and found a small side street. I took my mobile out. How could I hide my number? I didn’t want him to call me whenever he pleased. I scrambled about a bit until I figured out how to do it – God knows how I managed, I’m useless with those kinds of things.

The phone was ringing.

‘Tom, it’s me.’

‘Eilidh! Oh my God! Eilidh!’ I heard a commotion in the background. Probably the girlfriend. ‘Are you ok?’ He was breathless, like talking to me was a real shock. Which indeed, it was. For both of us.

‘I’m great, thanks. Just to let you know, I want a divorce. Hire a solicitor please. I don’t want anything from you, so just make it quick.’

‘What? A divorce?’ He was whispering.

‘Well, what were you expecting? To live with both of us?’

‘No, no, but … It’s all so sudden …’

‘Sudden? It’s been going on for years. I’ve always known.’

‘Eilidh, it’s complicated. Look, we can’t do it like this. We need to talk.’

‘No, we don’t. Hire a solicitor, I’ll phone after Christmas, sign whatever you want.’

‘Eilidh …’

‘Oh, and something else, I used our credit card to buy Christmas dinner for myself and my family. My Scottish family, I mean. Thanks.’

‘Keep the card, Eilidh, you need it … your mum told me you work in that shop in Glen Avich. Come on, you can’t live like that.’

‘I think you’ll find that I can. I’m cutting the card up right now,’ I said, bending the thing over and over again until it was useless, then throwing it in the bin.

‘Ei—’

‘Have to go. Bye.’

I clicked the phone closed. My heart was racing. I did it.

‘Well done, pal.’

‘Yes, well done!’ Voices piped up from around the corner. I took a step and saw two wee, frail old women in woollen hats and overcoats, one of them clutching the handle of a trolley full of groceries. My deserted alleyway wasn’t deserted after all.

‘You told him. Good girl,’ said woman number one.

‘Yes, good girl!’ Woman number two.

‘I’m sure he deserved it.’

‘Yes, he deserved it!’

‘Thanks, girls!’ I said, and headed to Debenhams for more shopping. With my own money, thank you very much.

An hour later, I had bought presents for everyone, small ones, but I was satisfied. I got books for my nieces and nephews and the new Nigella Lawson for Harry and Doug. They love cooking, like me. I got a soft, warm cardigan for Peggy and the most adorable, sweetest little necklace for Maisie, with a little silver star because she’s playing a star in her nativity play.

I was trying not to think about her going. I shouldn’t have said that thing about not being here when they come back. Of course I would still be in Glen Avich. Every day that went by, every week, every month, took me further away from Southport. Some might think I was crazy, to go and live in a tiny village in the Scottish Highlands, but that was the only place where I felt I belonged, and considering that I didn’t have anything else in my life, I had to follow that feeling. Scotland was to me like a lighthouse during a storm.

I was lost in thought when I saw them. Again. Had it become some twisted habit, was she following me every single time I went to the station?

‘Hi Helena, hi Gail. How’s things?’

‘Hi, sorry, must dash …’ said Helena. Of course.

Gail had a face like thunder.

‘So, Jamie is going,’ she snapped at me, with Helena trying to gently steer her away.

‘Yes, he’s going to Australia.’

‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you,’ she said, sounding nothing but. Her face was all twisted and horrible. Jesus. Single white female.

‘There was nothing to work out in the first place. Enjoy your shopping.’ I walked on, boarding the train they had just alighted.

‘You don’t seem to be able to keep anyone, do you, Eilidh? Your husband left you, too, didn’t he?’

I stood, framed by the train door, frozen.

‘Gail, that’s out of order!’ Helena looked genuinely shocked.

For a second, I thought I was going to slap her. But I stopped myself.

Gail looked shocked, too.

‘Look, I’m sorry, maybe I went too far …’

‘You did, Gail,’ I said icily. ‘And when Jamie hears how mean and nasty you can be, well, if you had any hope left …’

Her face fell.

‘Bye, Helena. See you around.’

‘YOU NASTY BITCH! YOU LITTLE SHIT!’

God Almighty. It’s Shona’s voice. But Shona, talking like that?