When Love Knocks Twice (A Contemporary Love Story) (6 page)

“ Deal,”
agreed Tom. “And vice-versa.”

So
they did.

Sunday

The
next morning they breakfasted at a reasonable time. Tom was glad to
find that Gail's view of reasonable was fairly in line with his own.
By the time they had finished, the garage was on the phone to say
everything was fine, car as good as new, two hundred and fifty pounds
please. With a sad shake of his head Tom handed over his credit card
and they hit the road again.

The
change in the weather brought an overcast heaviness to the
atmosphere, outside the car at any rate. Inside they managed to
maintain the sense of a Sunday School outing, children who should
know how to behave, but were intent on the naughty things in life.

It
wasn't long before more serious subjects came to the fore.

“ What
were you going to do for food on Skye? Do you cook?” asked
Gail.

“ Ah,”
hesitated Tom. “I knew you would find me out sooner or later. I
have arranged for a delivery of food to the cottage, however it was
only for one, so we may have to augment it.”

“ And
the cooking?” persisted Gail.

“ Well,
I can. And whilst it would keep me from malnutrition and starvation,
I'm not sure it's fare for a discerning third party. Besides there
are some really nice restaurants and I was planning to eat out
anyway.”

“ Sounds
good to me,” Gail concurred.

They
made good time due to light traffic on the roads, and with one brief
stop for an early lunch en route they were well on schedule. As they
climbed back into the car Gail looked across at Tom.

“ Do
you remember that school trip to Italy with the Latin class?”

“ How
could I forget it,” responded Tom. “The fact that we had
to change flights before-hand, which resulted in a drive all the way
across northern Italy.”
“Arriving in Venice in the
middle of the night,” agreed Gail. “And having to trundle
our suitcases in the dark through the maze of streets because the bus
couldn't go further that the bus terminus.”
“I'm
surprised we ever found that hotel.”

“ I
liked Venice though. Have you ever been back?”

“ At
least half a dozen times.”
“Wow,” exclaimed
Gail. “You did like it didn't you.”
“So did my
wife. Do you remember going shopping in Rome?”

“ God,
yes,” exclaimed Gail. “And that group of Italian boys
started to pester us girls who had gone off on their own.”
“You
grabbed the first unsuspecting individual you knew to come and
protect you.”

“ I
think you did very well. I remember your glare was particularly
useful,” insisted Gail.

“ I
remember falling asleep in the sun and waking up bright red.”

“ I
remember that,” cried Gail. “I remember sitting next to
you on the bus and you were glowing like a beacon. I could almost
feel the heat coming off you.”

“ Ah,
happy days,” sighed Tom. “Not.”

Other
reminiscences peppered their journey and before they realised it,
they were approaching the Bridge over to Skye. The sun broke through
to provide a weak afternoon sunshine as they drove through Broadford.

Gail
gave a cry. “Look! Tennis courts. We can go and have a game one
day, and then I can beat you all over again.”

“ I'm
not sure they would have a racquet my size,” suggested Tom,
getting a swipe over the back of the head from the map Gail was
holding.

They
arrived at the cottage on the stroke of four o'clock. They got out
and stretched their legs, straightening the cricks in their backs.
Tom stood and looked at the cottage for a few moments before moving.
Gail turned and noticed his expression.

“ You've
been here before haven't you.”

Tom
just nodded.

“ With
your wife?”

“ Yes,”
nodded Tom.”With Abbie.”

“ She
was very special wasn't she?”

“ Yes,
she was.”

“ I
wish I had known her. I feel that I'm intruding,” confessed
Gail.

Tom
turned to her. “Don't. You're here at my invitation remember.
But I wish you had known her. You would have got on. She would have
liked you. You're quite similar to her.”

“ But
I would never replace her. Remember that,” said Gail.

“ No.
I know.”

They
unpacked the car and settled into the cottage, which drew a
'delightful' from Gail.

They
agreed that, after their long drive, some exercise was called for,
and donning walking boots they set out to climb the hill behind the
cottage in the warm afternoon sunshine. The track they started on
petered out to a path, and as they climbed, they followed sheep
tracks up towards a summit. After an hour and a half of stiff climb,
Gail started to feel it was time to turn back, and suggested it to
Tom.

He
shook his head. “Just five more minutes, it will be well worth
it, I promise you.”

She
agreed, and they carried on. Sure enough, as promised, five minutes
later they crested a rise and Tom deliberately took Gail's hand in a
firm grip.

Gail
drew an audible gasp as the view opened up before them. The ground
dropped away near-vertically for several hundred feet, leaving a
breathtaking view for miles in the clear sunshine.

“ It's
awesome,” breathed Gail.

Tom
didn't comment, but taking in the view for a few moments suddenly
realised that tears were flowing down Gail's cheeks.

“ Are
you all right?” he questioned concernedly.

Gail
took in a deep breath. “Yes. I'm all right. It's only that I
know there have been times in the last five years when I've been so
low that I could cheerfully have thrown myself off a cliff like
this.”

Tom's
grasp tightened, causing her to smile at him.

“ Don't
worry, I'm not like that any more, especially in the company of good
friends.”

Despite
her reassurances, Tom didn't loosen his grip. He was taking no
chances. Had he known it, Gail wouldn't have let his hand go anyway.

They
took their time on the way back down, enjoying the evening sunshine,
more pleasant now that it had lost some of its heat.

They
managed to change and reach the restaurant with enough time for a
leisurely meal before returning to the cottage to face unpacking.
They surprised each other by efficiently stowing everything away in
logical places. By the time they had finished it was ten o'clock but
the sun still appeared high in the sky.

“ Midsummer
in the high latitudes,” voiced Tom, as they sat on a bench in
the garden, drinking coffee and watching the sun sink over the
horizon. “You've got to love these long days.”

“ Unfortunately,”
yawned Gail. “I still need my beauty sleep.”

“ You
sleep with just a sheet in these summer temperatures, rather than a
duvet?” suggested Tom.

“ Yes,
if that,” determined Gail. “We'll start with one and see
how we go. As long as you don't hog it.”

They
turned in, another long day behind them, and holiday in front.

Tom
lay awake, casting his mind back to his last visit. Two years ago he
and Abbie had come here, enjoying the fresh air and the space,
talking through all manner of things, discussing plans for his
retirement, and whether she should retire at the same time. She had
been feeling tired, moaning about getting old, declaring that she
would do more exercise and get her diet sorted out. They had had a
great time, appreciating the mountain scenery and the slow pace of
life. They had vowed to return one day.

What
would Abbie think of the current situation he wondered? She had
always been the more adventurous of the two of them, the more
impulsive. She had always told him he needed to be more ambitious,
and take more risks. Well, he thought, perhaps she would approve. He
looked beside him, listening to Gail's slow, gentle breathing. Yes, I
hope she would approve.

Monday

Gail
woke as sunlight started to play across the bed-covers, aware of the
heat on her feet. She turned to find Tom awake, watching her.

“ How
long have you been awake?” she asked.

“ Minutes,”
he reassured her.

“ It
seems weird waking up with anyone,” he confessed. “I was
almost getting used to waking up and not being surprised that I was
on my own.”

“ Hmm.
Cup of tea?”

“ Definitely.”

“ Tell
me about Gordon,” requested Tom.

“ Gordon?”

“ Yes.
I'd like to know more about him.”

“ Wow.
Well, he was taller than you, and broad with it. He used to play
rugby in his youth, that bloke at the back of the scrum, I could
never remember the name of the position. When he stopped playing he
always used to worry about putting on weight. Mind you he was a
worrier generally, used to get very stressed. He took up golf to try
and combat it, but as luck would have it he turned out to be good at
it, which led to him playing competitively, generating its own
stress.”

“ So,
tell me about Abbie. Come on, your turn,” demanded Gail.

“ Abbie
was blonde, could eat anything she wanted and never put on weight,
much to the disgust of her circle of friends. She had boundless
energy that used to wear me out. Compassion used to weigh her down.
She spent her life determined to make a difference in the world. She
worked for a number of charities, some of them paid, some not. But
outside of her passion she was hopelessly disorganised. Getting the
kids a clean school uniform for a Monday morning was generally a
last-minute affair, matching socks at a premium. But she loved
without boundaries and was loved in return.”

“ What
do you miss most?” interjected Gail.

“ What
do I miss most?” repeated Tom. “Conversation at the end
of the day. Catching up on her chaotic day's events. Yes, I think
it's conversation I miss most. Some days I forget what my own voice
sounds like.”

“ Tell
me about it.”

“ Did
you get to have a look at the old school before they pulled it down?”

“ I
wish I'd known. I think I would have liked that. To say goodbye to
the old place.”

“ Nostalgia
is better than the reality, I warn you,” declared Gail. “Do
you remember the time that the girls challenged the boys at hockey?”

“ How
could I forget it? We were terrified out of our wits. You seemed to
turn into absolute demons when you got those sticks in your hands.
The number of bruises we came away with. It was a wonder we didn't
break anything.”

“ Close
to lunchtime. I vote we get lunch in that little café down the
road, and then we probably need to do some shopping before finishing
unpacking.”

Tuesday

In
the morning, after a leisurely breakfast they drove down to Broadford
to check out the amenities and visit the Tourist Information Office.

And
finally Tom gave in. Gail had threatened, cajoled, provoked, and
pleaded, and in the end he gave in. So here they were on the tennis
courts in Broadford, and despite his earlier protestations they did
have a racquet his size.

“ So
when was the last time you played?” inquired Gail.

“ Let
me see,” replied Tom. “It would have been....fifteen,
twenty years ago.”

“ What!”
exclaimed Gail. “What have you been doing for exercise?”

“ Cycling,
in the main.”

“ So,”
pronounced Gail. “I could beat you forty years ago. Let's see
if I can beat you now.”

“ Wait
a minute,” protested Tom. “When did you last play?”

“ Let
me see,” pondered Gail thoughtfully. “It would have been
ten...twelve... oh, at least fifteen days ago.”

“ Days
ago! You still play at the club then?”

“ Well,
yes, we play in the seniors' league.”

“ Hold
on,” interrupted Tom. “You mean you're still playing
competitively?”

“ Well
I wouldn't call it competitive really, more a good excuse for a cream
tea and a natter.”

“ I'll
bet,” reposted Tom sarcastically.

“ First
to the set then,” suggested Gail. “By the way, you don't
have a heart condition or anything like that do you?”

“ No,
but I think it might be wise to find the location of the nearest
defibrillator, just in case,” offered Tom.

“ Wimp,”
accused Gail. “I'll let you serve. You can still serve can you,
at your age?”

“ Cheeky,”
retorted Tom.

So
they played, and Tom served first, and promptly lost the first game.

Come
the second game he discovered he was better at returning the ball
than he was at serving it, that was, until Gail started serving
into the corners and making him run. After several deuces Gail won
that game as well.

By
the third game, Tom was pleased to note that Gail was as out of
breath as he was, but despite that Gail won it as well. He called for
a time out and they had a drink. Tom suggested a brandy but they made
do with some fizzy energy drinks that were bound to be bad for them.

Following
the break Tom made a comeback. He won a game amid celebrations that
would have done the Wimbledon finals proud, however the celebrations
obviously wore him out because he only won one more game, Gail
finishing the set six games to two. They agreed that a second set may
be tempting fate too far, so they settled for a coffee and a scone,
and then took a walk down by the shoreline.