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

Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

‘Emily, this is my flatmate Carla. She teaches at secondary. Carla, this is Emily. She’s the headteacher at the primary school here.’

‘Lovely to meet you, Emily.’ Carla proffered a hand covered in pastry crumbs, which Emily shook, slightly doubtfully. ‘Sorry. I’ve literally just now stuffed a chocolate croissant in my mouth,’ she explained, swallowing indelicately. ‘This food market is amazing!’

‘Nice, isn’t it?’ Emily grinned. ‘The bakery stall is remarkable. The fishmonger’s got some amazing mussels in, if you’re into seafood. And the natural soap and vegan candle lady is great.’ Emily pointed across the way among the jostling crowds surrounding the market day stalls and their jaunty, striped awnings.

‘Listen, ladies. I really appreciate you helping me out like this, ahead of the fundraiser. There are so many last-minute tasks and, you know what it’s like. You think you’ve got everything under control and then, wham . Something comes out of the blue.’ Emily rolled her eyes. ‘Or, in my case, it was on my list, but I forgot to do it.’ She handed Carla and Tara a stack of yellow leaflets each, a roll of tape and a staple gun. ‘You’re lifesavers.’

‘No problem.’ Tara took the staple gun and handed the tape to Carla: she probably wasn’t to be trusted with anything vaguely dangerous. ‘So, basically, just put these up everywhere?’

She glanced at one of the leaflets.

LOCH CAMERON’S GOT TALENT!

PRIMARY SCHOOL FUNDRAISER

LOCH CAMERON INN, SUNDAY, 3PM–LATE

CEILIDH, FOOD, ENTERTAINMENT

SINGERS, DANCERS – WE WANT YOU!!

GREAT PRIZES!!

‘Please. Obviously be mindful of the environment, but yes.’ Emily nodded. ‘We just want to make sure everyone’s got it in their diary, and you know what people are like. I put a notice in the local paper the last couple of weeks and a few notices on bulletin boards and what have you, but I thought we needed greater visibility.’

‘What’re the prizes? For the singing and dancing?’ Carla asked.

‘Umm. There’s a box of meat for first prize. Cake subscription for a year from that bakery you just had a croissant from.’ Emily pointed at the bakery stall which had a crowd three-deep around it, reaching for its towering piles of giant hot cross buns, buttercream-filled cronuts and cream horns with delicate, flaky pastry, covered in sugar. ‘Voucher from Fiona’s Fashions, that’s the clothes boutique in the village. Very nice, actually. Voucher from the hairdresser’s for fifty per cent off. That kind of thing.’

‘Not gonna lie, a cake subscription sounds amazing.’ Carla gazed longingly back at the stall. ‘I might just pop back there later. When the crowd’s gone down a bit.’

‘You can have a cake when you’ve done all your leaflets.’ Tara tapped her flatmate mock-seriously on the arm.

‘Oh, fine, okay, Mum.’ Carla rolled her eyes.

‘Thanks, again.’ Emily tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘I do really appreciate it. I’m going up to Gyle Head to put some up and put some through letterboxes. By all means do that too if you like, around the high street. There are some residential streets behind, and there’s Queen’s Point, if you want to get the cottages up there.’

‘Sure. That’s fine, we can go up there.’ Tara nodded, secretly relieved that she didn’t have to go up to Gyle Head and risk seeing Ramsay up there: he’d said he lived there. ‘You’ll like it, Carla. There’s a fab view of the loch.’

‘Cool. One of your teen hangouts.’

‘Yeah. Come on, then. We’ll see you later, Emily?’

‘Sure. I’ll pop into the Inn this evening if that’s okay. I just need to finalise some stuff with your dad.’

‘Great. We’ll see you then.’

‘Thanks again. You really are helping me out.’ Emily kissed Tara and then Carla on the cheek before heading off towards the end of the high street, picking her way between the crowds.

‘Right, then. Come on. You can do letterboxes, I’ll find places to put up signs,’ Tara suggested. ‘We’ll get off the high street for a bit and come back when it’s a bit less busy.’

They turned off the cobbled high street and onto a narrow residential street, where a crowded row of cottage-style terrace houses jostled against each other. Each garden was neat and well-tended, and a group of children were playing catch with a stuffed animal at the end of the street.

‘This is sweet,’ Carla said as she went up to the first door, folded a leaflet and posted it through the letterbox. ‘Loch Cameron’s really quaint, isn’t it? You feel like you’ve gone back in time a bit. And then you look over your shoulder and there’s the castle looming on the other side of the loch. So gothic.’

‘I guess so. I’m used to it.’ Tara smiled at the children as they squealed and giggled at the end of the street. ‘When I was a kid, I thought all villages had a castle. In fact, I didn’t really know that not everyone even lived in a village.’

‘I bet. You and Ramsay must’ve had a lot of fun, playing like them. When you were kids,’ Carla observed. ‘I grew up in Romford. Not quite the same.’

‘Hmm. Well, I’m sure Romford has its charms.’ Tara smiled.

‘Not many. But it’s home. I’d kill to have somewhere like this to come home to, though.’

‘Well, you’re welcome anytime. My parents think you’re great, and they’re always hospitable.’

‘I think they’re great. Your mum’s a legend. Like the Joan Collins of Loch Cameron.’

‘Ha. I’ve never thought of her like that, but I guess she does have a certain diva quality,’ Tara chuckled.

‘Yeah.’ Carla took in a deep breath of the clean air and let it go, a peaceful look on her face. ‘You know, you’re different here. More confident. More relaxed. I mean, you’ve always been great, but I always thought there was this inner sadness in you. You could be really shy at times, if we were out at the pub or whatever. Here, I feel like you’re more yourself.’

‘Really?’ Tara walked along slowly with her friend to the end of the road.

‘Yeah. This is your home, after all.’ Carla shrugged. ‘Makes sense. And you’re a country girl at heart. I love the city. The hustle and bustle. But you’re a bit of a gentle soul. It suits you to be out here, in nature. It soothes your soul.’ She posted the final leaflet through the last house’s front door and came back to the end of the pathway .

‘That’s a very poetic thing to say.’ Tara gave her friend an amused smile.

‘Yeah, well. I can be poetic, although, don’t tell anyone.’ Carla shrugged. ‘And I’m observant. That’s all.’

‘You’re a good friend, is what you are.’ Tara thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I like being back here. I do feel more grounded, more resilient, like I was saying before about Aunt Agnes and thinking about how I could be more like her. And since I’ve been dancing more, I’ve reconnected to that sense of being carefree that I used to have. I think I was sad because I lost that, as well as losing Ramsay.’

‘I can see that. It was your joy. We’re always sad when we lose our joy,’ Carla replied.

‘I guess so. It’s hard to see that when you’re inside it. I feel like I was inside a sort of grey place for a really long time.’ Tara flicked through the leaflets in her hand, distractedly.

‘Awww. Love. Come here.’ Carla enveloped Tara in a fierce hug. ‘I don’t want you to be in a grey place. I want you to be in a bright place filled with rainbows and fairies and all that crap,’ she said, her voice muffled in Tara’s hair.

‘Thanks. I want rainbows and fairies for you too,’ Tara mumbled back. ‘And, thanks for coming to stay. It’s really nice, having you here. It’s been a bit of a weird time and I really appreciate the support, if I’m honest.’

‘You’re welcome, daftie.’ Carla stepped back from the hug, and then, without warning, grabbed the staple gun out of Tara’s hand and ran to the end of the street with it. ‘I have the power!!’ she shouted, and disappeared onto the high street, brandishing her remaining leaflets.

Tara laughed out loud, making the children look up from their game and frown at her. She waved at them and pointed to the end of the street where Carla had reappeared, waiting for her.

‘Kids. Tell your parents about the fundraiser at the Inn on Sunday. There’s going to be dancing and cake. Okay?’ she called out, grinning. The kids nodded, seriously.

What it was to be a child , Tara thought, nostalgic.

Carla was right. She had had a wonderful life in Loch Cameron. And, she realised, all the years she’d been away, she missed it terribly.