Keepsakes from the Cottage by the Loch (Loch Cameron #6)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

‘Here you are, then.’ The elderly woman pushed open a door off the short corridor that led into the community centre, and flicked a switch. A long, harsh overhead LED light flickered on in a somewhat airless room, long ago painted in that light green that seemed reserved for public buildings and hospitals. ‘Hasn’t been used for a while, but you’re welcome to it.’

‘Thank you.’ Tara followed the woman into the room, noting the fact that its scuffed wooden floor was sprung underneath, and the wooden piano that stood in the corner. Across one wall, a tarnished mirror stretched the width of the room, with a wooden barre across the middle.

‘Used to be used for a kids’ ballet class, but it hasn’t run for many a year now,’ the woman continued, giving Tara a friendly smile. She was dressed elegantly in loose lilac-coloured linen trousers and a matching linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up and a scarf knotted around her head. ‘You’re Dotty’s daughter, aren’t you? I recognise you from your photos. I’m June, a friend of Dotty’s.’ She held out a lined hand, and Tara shook it.

‘Hello, June. Thanks for this. It’s perfect, actually. I’ve been wanting to get back into dancing a bit, and there’s no room to do it at the Inn.’

Tara had taken her mother’s advice and started to refresh her dance skills in her old bedroom, but there was no real room to move, and Dotty complained that the noise was keeping her awake. So, she’d suggested the community centre.

‘Ah, that’s right. You used to dance, didn’t you? Dotty told us all about it. I didn’t live in the village then, but I hear you were amazing.’

‘Ah, well. We won a lot of trophies.’ Tara nodded.

‘And you haven’t danced for a while?’

‘No. I sort of got involved in my career, and it… took a backseat,’ Tara said, which wasn’t a lie exactly, but she had no inclination to tell this June the whole story.

‘These things happen, dear.’ June shook her head. ‘Well, I’ll let you know when I’m going to close up, but I’ll be an hour or two, so no hurry.’ She nodded, and held the door open. ‘Enjoy!’

‘Thanks.’ Tara waited until June had left before getting out her phone and the portable speaker she’d brought with her, and putting on some warmup music. She laid down a yoga mat and began with a hatha yoga workout on an app, moving from gentle stretches into the different poses she remembered from a class she’d taken about a year ago. She could feel her body waking up, and it felt good.

When she’d warmed up, she found one of the dance class videos she’d been watching online and played it. The hip hop music filled the room, and Tara started to follow the instructor. It was a basic street dance routine, and after a while, her concentration paid off, and the movements started to flow. Tara started having fun with it and relaxing into the beat; watching herself in the mirror, she realised that she was grinning. Enjoying herself in the moment.

The next video by the same dance teacher followed on automatically; Tara thought that she might as well try and follow it. It was a salsa class, which she’d danced before.

As she followed the steps and relaxed into the salsa rhythm, Ramsay popped into her mind, and the memory of them doing dances like this. The connection of their bodies together had been electric.

Her phone buzzed: it was an unknown number. Tara answered, expecting it to be a sales call of some kind, or Carla, on her travels.

‘Hi, Tara. It’s Ramsay.’ Ramsay Fraser’s voice boomed across the room: she still had the phone connected to the speaker. Speak of the devil. She had a moment, wondering if she had somehow conjured him by thinking about their dancing past.

‘Oh. Hello.’ She was slightly out of breath, and hoped that he didn’t think it sounded strange.

‘Your mum gave me your number,’ he continued. ‘I hope that’s okay.’

‘Did she? Right,’ Tara replied, knowing that she sounded like an idiot but unable to think of anything clever or witty to say.

‘Yeah. I just popped into the Inn to see you, but she said you were out,’ he said, sounding awkward. ‘I hope that was okay.’

‘Oh. I see. Yeah, I guess so.’

‘How are you finding working at the Inn? Your mum said she’s so relieved to have you there,’ he continued, striving to make conversation. Tara wasn’t trying to be obstructive or dull, but she was a little lost for things to say. What did it mean, that he was calling her?

‘It’s okay. Busy,’ Tara replied, wondering what else Dotty and Ramsay had said in this cosy little chat of theirs.

‘I bet.’ There was another silence. ‘What are you doing? You sound out of breath,’ he asked.

‘Dancing, actually. There’s a fairly decent rehearsal room at the community centre: Mum mentioned that she thought they had somewhere I could practice, and it’s not bad. What about you?’

‘Just walking home from the Inn. You’re at the community centre? I’m literally walking past right now.’

‘Oh,’ she replied, not knowing how to respond.

‘I’ll come in,’ he said. She could hear him walking, on the phone: the sounds of the high street in the background. ‘I’m right here anyway.’

‘Oh, but I… right. Okay.’ Tara ended the call and looked wildly around her for her hoodie; she’d stripped off to a sports bra and a pair of yoga leggings to dance in, but she felt exposed just wearing that in front of Ramsay. She pulled it on just as he walked through the door.

‘Hi.’ Ramsay grinned at her. ‘We meet again.’

‘Well, you found out where I was and sort of invaded, but sure.’ Tara took down her ponytail and tied it up again firmly, then stood with her hands on her hips. She was cross at being interrupted, and confused by Ramsay’s sudden appearance. He threw her off balance when he appeared like this, out of the blue, and she didn’t like it.

‘Sorry. I was literally just passing, though. Fate.’ His tone was breezy, and that annoyed her even more. It was like he was deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room, which was her broken heart.

‘I’m not sure that’s what I’d call asking my mum where to find me,’ Tara countered, tersely.

‘Well, I’m here.’ He pulled a face that she remembered; it was Ramsay’s face for when he thought she was being unnecessarily difficult, but he was going to take it on the chin because it was Tara, and he loved her. She blinked. It was a subtlety she had forgotten, that expression. An intimate thing that existed between them. It was strange to see it again, just as it would have been strange for them to say the words they used to say to each other in the dead of night as they lay in each other’s arms.

Tara felt herself blushing and looked away. She didn’t want to blush; she wanted to stay angry, because angry was infinitely easier to feel and act from than longing, love and loss.

‘I was just doing the salsa,’ she said, flatly, and hoping that this was enough of a hint to make him leave.

‘Cool. Challenging. I used to enjoy it,’ he replied, instead, showing no sign of wanting to leave or indeed any sense of awkwardness.

‘I know.’ Tara remembered how his hand on her waist had felt. How his body had felt: long-limbed and strong. When he’d dipped her, he’d stare deep into her eyes, and a glow of heat would erupt in her belly.

‘So, it was weird seeing you at the school the other day,’ she said, fiddling with her speaker and changing the subject.

‘Yeah. Small world. But that’s Loch Cameron for you.’

‘Hmm. How come you were at the school? You seemed to be working with the building site?’

‘I’m a quantity surveyor. I got roped in to that little project, less as a surveyor and more just because I’m a friend of Emily’s and she wanted someone who understands building projects to keep an eye on things.’ He looked out of the little window.

‘I thought you studied engineering at uni.’ She pulled at the edge of her sweater.

‘I didn’t finish uni. I trained later on, in the evenings, when I could. Got fully qualified a couple of years ago. That’s actually the reason I came back to Loch Cameron. The firm I was working for was working on the development up at Gyle Head. When I saw it all come together up there, I thought, this seems like a good place to put down roots. So, here I am.’

‘Right. It’s nice up there,’ Tara replied. She wondered if they were going to get beyond exchanging pleasantries anytime soon .

‘It is.’

‘So, quantity surveyor. It sounds like a grown-up job,’ Tara said.

‘You can talk. A teacher! Dotty told me all about it. That’s what you wanted, right? Good on you.’

‘Thanks. I do enjoy it.’ Tara shrugged. ‘Although the school I work at is kind of awful. The kids are great, but the PTA are… Sorry. Parent-Teacher Association. It’s like, the club for the very engaged parents. You have to give them some sense of being involved. Fundraising, that kind of thing. The parent voice .’ Look at us, pretending like nothing happened , she thought.

‘I know what a PTA is.’ He smiled.

‘Oh. Right.’ She gave him a thin-lipped smile. ‘Well, I should get on… I’ve only got the room for a little longer,’ she said, pointedly.

‘It’s nice that you’re dancing.’ He looked around the rehearsal room. ‘Not quite what we were used to, but not bad, eh? Sprung floor.’

‘Thanks. I haven’t actually danced in years. Not since…’ she trailed off. There was an awkward pause.

‘The time capsule was freaky,’ he said, suddenly. ‘I didn’t know how to deal with it.’

‘You seemed upset,’ she said, carefully. ‘It was emotional for me too.’

‘I was. It brought a lot of memories back. I’m sorry for leaving quite abruptly. I just wasn’t sure how to act around you,’ he confessed.

‘I know. I wasn’t prepared to see you. Then or when I bumped into you on the high street.’

‘Listen, Tara,’ Ramsay said, haltingly. ‘I know it’s been weird, seeing each other around the village. I know you must have a lot of questions for me. About what happened.’

‘Yes,’ she said, quietly.

‘I know,’ he said, softly. ‘It’s weird for me too, seeing you. But it’s nice, right? I missed you so much. I saw… you were wearing the necklace…’

Something about him mentioning the heart pendants hit too close to home, and Tara felt her heart thrum with a deep pain. It was too much. She’d been holding that pain for so long and seeing him brought up feelings she wasn’t prepared for.

‘I missed you too. Obviously,’ she snapped, without meaning to. Did he think that she’d just blithely carried on with her life when he disappeared? That she didn’t care at all? ‘I’m sorry, Ramsay. This isn’t something I actually want to talk about right now.’

‘Sorry, it’s a bad time.’ He sounded contrite, and looked down at his shoes, which somehow made her more annoyed.

‘Yes. Look, I didn’t expect to see you. But that’s not why I don’t want to talk about this now.’

‘Why, then?’ he sounded confused. ‘I just thought…’

‘No. You didn’t think at all,’ Tara cut in. ‘Do you think that you can just pick up where you left off with me?’ her hand went to the heart pendants, protectively. The pain in her chest was as raw as it had been all those years ago, like the fragile scar that held her heart together had burst open.

‘No! I just…’

‘Just what? Thought we could pick up again, just like old times, as if nothing had happened? You DISAPPEARED, Ramsay. For ten years! I didn’t even know if you were alive or dead! Can you imagine what that did to me? Do you have ANY idea?’ Tara was shouting now but she didn’t care. The anger had welled up within her quickly, as if it had been waiting just under the surface of her heart to be let out. Well, there was no “as if” about it – it had been there, waiting, for so long. At least it was better to be angry than to cry.

‘I know it was bad. I… that was why I wanted to talk to you. After we met on the street… I didn’t know what to say to you then… ’

‘So, talk,’ she said. ‘Tell me what could have possibly happened, because unless you were abducted by aliens and you just came back last week, then I think you could have got in touch before now to explain.’

‘Tara. Please. This isn’t easy.’ He sounded tortured, but Tara’s pain had resurfaced, and it hurt too much for her to be able to feel sympathy for Ramsay.

‘I’m listening. Tell me what you need to tell me,’ she demanded.

‘Umm… it’s difficult,’ he repeated.

‘Try,’ she said, frustrated. What was so difficult? ‘I’ve waited for ten years. You owe me an explanation.’

‘You’re right. I do. But… this was a mistake. I thought I could talk to you, but not like this.’ He turned away.

‘Not like what? You don’t think it’s understandable for me to be angry?’ she shouted. ‘For god’s sake, Ramsay! All I had was that vague little note you sent to know that you weren’t dead! Do you know how that feels? For the person you love most in the world to just disappear? Do you?’

‘No,’ he said, dully. Tara knew his face and his expressions so well; being in his presence and talking to him was like re-reading a familiar book. A story, a novel that she knew by heart. She had hardly ever seen him so devastated, so vulnerable and open to hurt.

Part of Tara wanted to retract her words; she could feel the hurt in his voice and she hated hearing it. She knew him so well; even after all these years, there was a part of her that instinctively wanted to comfort him. That was what she’d always done.

And, there was something else in her: she felt guilty. There had been a worry in her mind, all these years, that she’d been to blame for Ramsay disappearing.

But, there was a bigger part of her that knew it was more important to protect herself. To protect her own heart from being broken again. And, she was allowed to be angry. Anyone would be, in the same situation.

So, instead of trying to talk him around – to heal the pain in his voice – Tara held herself back.

‘I think you should go,’ she said, keeping her voice level.

‘Is that what you really want?’ His eyes met hers, and she almost wavered at the sight of the raw emotion there. ‘It must mean something that you’ve kept the necklace.’

‘Yes,’ she said, lowering her eyes. ‘I want you to go. And the necklace has nothing to do with you.’

‘Tara…’ Ramsay reached for her.

Just at that moment, June popped her head around the doorframe.

‘Just wanted to let you know I’m going to close up soon, Tara,’ she said. ‘Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.’

‘Ramsay is just leaving,’ Tara said, smiling politely.

‘Oh – I can give you ten minutes or so, it’s no trouble,’ June said, smiling maternally at them both. Clearly, she thought that something was going on.

‘No, it’s fine, thank you, June.’ Tara turned away from him, deliberately hiding her expression. She felt like she was on the verge of tears.

‘Yeah. I’ll get out of your way,’ Ramsay said. ‘Sorry to have bothered you, Tara.’

‘No trouble,’ she called after him, turning to watch him go. No trouble. The most inaccurate thing, the most nonsensical politeness she could have said, in that moment.

There was trouble, and there was hurt. Ramsay’s visit – out of the blue, again – had troubled her.

She didn’t want to say goodbye. She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to talk to him and see him. Yes, some of her did want to go back into their old dynamic, as if nothing had changed. All of that was true.

And, there was still that spectre of panic and horror that never went away: the night that she’d done something she would never forget, just a couple of days before she’d got the letter from Ramsay, telling her that he was leaving. That she’d never see him again.

That night that she’d done the thing she would always regret – because, how could it be unconnected to him disappearing? She’d regretted it every time she thought about it. No. Not just regret. She had dreaded the thought that she had somehow been instrumental in his disappearance. Or, worse. That she had caused him pain.

Yet, despite the hurt, Tara was also far too angry just to slip back into their old ways and not express her feelings.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ June stood aside for Ramsay to leave, giving him a polite nod as he did so. She walked into the room and looked at Tara with a concerned expression.

‘Yes. I’m fine. Thank you, June. I’ll get out of your hair.’ Tara snatched up her speaker and her phone. ‘Thanks so much for letting me use the room.’

‘You’re welcome, dear.’ June beamed at her. ‘I wonder, would you be interested in doing some dance training for some of us ladies at the Thursday group? We have this fundraiser coming up, and we’d intended to have a ceilidh as part of it. I know we all sort of muddle along in one of those but if we had someone to teach us a few advanced steps, that would be fun. Or even help us prepare a special routine.’

‘Umm. Yeah, sure. No problem.’ Tara was reminded of the pushy PTA parents at Lomond Primary; June had a similarly confident way of asking a favour in a way that was difficult to refuse. At this point, she just wanted to go home and bury her face in a pillow; she felt like she would agree to pretty much anything if it meant she could leave and be on her own right now.

‘All right, then. I’ll be in touch. Just pop in when you’re ready, or I’ll get your number from your mum.’ June gave Tara a little tap on the arm. ‘You’re sure you’re all right, dear? Things seemed a little strained with your young man just now.’

‘He’s not my young man,’ she said. ‘I’m fine, really.’

‘If you say so. But there did seem to be a certain frisson there.’ June raised an eyebrow.

‘I better be off. Stuff to do at the Inn,’ Tara said, desperate to get away.

‘Right you are, dear.’ June stepped aside as Tara passed, and turned off the light. ‘Least said, soonest mended, as they say.’

Tara nodded and made her escape onto the high street. For a moment, she worried that Ramsay would be there, waiting for her, but the cobbled street was empty.

She ran to the loch and took off her trainers, rolling her yoga pants to her knees and wading in to the water; it was always cold, regardless of the time of year, but there was also something gloriously clean and smooth about it too. She’d always loved the loch, and spent time wading in it or just being next to it when she was young, especially when she was stressed.

She took in a deep breath and released it. Calm and clarity. Calm and clarity. It had become her mantra when she was a teenager, spending time with her thoughts at the loch. It was a way she self-soothed, and she felt instantly relieved by doing it now.

With her back to the high street, she let the tears come. She didn’t feel calm, but she knew it would be better if she could let her feelings out safely.

She was so angry, but she was also so sad. Why had everything with Ramsay gone so wrong?