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

Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

‘Pass the potatoes tae Carla, Eric.’ Dotty waved her hand imperiously at her husband. ‘She’ll waste away. No’ a speck on ye, dear,’ she added to Carla, in a confidential tone. Tara could see Carla subdue a giggle.

‘Thanks, Mrs Ballantyne.’ She took the large blue ceramic bowl, heaped with mashed potatoes, and spooned some onto her plate. ‘It’s so kind of you to have me staying with you.’

‘No’ a bit o’ it.’ Dotty smiled warmly. ‘It’s grand tae spend some time with Tara’s flatmate. We hear so much aboot ye.’

‘Oh. All good, I hope.’ Carla made a face at Tara.

‘Aye, of course, dear,’ Dotty chuckled. ‘Did ye have a good time at the fundraiser? I saw ye have a bit o’ a dance.’

‘Yeah. I’ve never been to a ceilidh before. It was awesome. I think I’ve pulled a few muscles, though.’ Carla winced as she shifted in her seat. ‘I hardly do any exercise, and then suddenly I’m being thrown around the room by a mountain of a man in a kilt.’

‘Ha. That was Angus, wasn’t it? Lovely fella. Enthusiastic dancer. No’ that I was allowed, this time.’ Dotty pouted. ‘Shame. I do love a dance. ’

‘Next time, hen,’ Eric said, quietly, from across the table. ‘Ye cannae stand very well yet, let alone dance.’

‘Aye, I suppose,’ Dotty sighed, and elbowed Tara. ‘Mind ye, someone looked good dancin’ wi’ Ramsay Fraser. Just like auld times.’

‘Mum. I didn’t choose to do that. Hal called us up to the stage. I could hardly say no,’ Tara protested.

‘Aye, but it looked like ye were enjoyin’ it.’ Dotty raised an eyebrow.

‘She’s right, Tar. You did look like you were having a good time, once you started dancing,’ Carla added.

‘Well, I don’t want anything to do with him. Flirting with me when he’s married and has a child,’ she said, vehemently. Dotty blinked.

‘I didnae know that,’ she said. ‘Still, I havenae been oot and aboot, so I’m a bit behind on the news. Married, ye say?’

‘Well, I assume so. Or at least, partnered with someone. I saw them at the park together,’ Tara said. Eric raised both eyebrows, but said nothing.

‘Poor Ramsay,’ Dotty sighed, as though Tara hadn’t just told her that Ramsay had a child and a – at the very least – serious girlfriend. If you had a child together, then whatever your marital status, then that was game over, in Tara’s eyes. ‘Ye know I feel bad we didnae do more for him.’

‘Poor Ramsay?’ she echoed her mother. ‘I know he had a bad time as a kid, Mum, but he lied to me.’

‘Aye, I know, hen. But I told ye aboot about Jack Fraser. Pure mean, he was. An’ Ramsay’s poor mother left when he was just young. Poor wee mite.’ Dotty and Eric exchanged glances.

‘He was a drinker. Used tae use Ramsay as a punchin’ bag when he was drunk, which was a lot,’ Eric interjected. ‘This was Ramsay’s dad, when they were young,’ he added, for Carla’s benefit.

‘Well, Ramsay never talked about his dad, but I knew he was mean.’ Tara frowned. ‘But… a punching bag ? How regularly was this? Why didn’t you ever tell me?’

There was a big difference between Ramsay having a dad who was in general unpleasant to be around – moody, shouty and often drunk – and Jack Fraser using him as a punching bag. That was something she had never been aware of. Yet, as soon as she thought that, Tara remembered her eleventh birthday, and realisation overtook her with its looming shadow.

‘I mean… there was that time at my birthday party. Something had happened, but he never told me. But I wasn’t stupid, I knew it was his dad. Don’t you remember? He said he’d been making too much noise wrapping up my present and his dad couldn’t hear the football.’ Tara had never forgotten her eleventh birthday, because it had been the day when Ramsay had given her the heart necklace.

‘Aye. Gave that boy a black eye, an’ the rest,’ Dotty said, darkly. ‘We kept things breezy because it was yer birthday. But the poor lad could hardly breathe. If his ribs weren’t broken then they were definitely bruised, that time.’

‘That time?’ Tara leaned forward, her dinner forgotten. ‘That implies that there were other times.’ She swallowed hard, feeling sick.

‘D’you really want tae know, darlin’?’ Dotty looked away, evasively, as she always was when talking about Ramsay’s past. ‘I mean… Carla, you don’t want tae hear this…’ She trailed off, but it was Eric who cleared his throat.

‘Dot. The girl needs tae know. We’ve kept it from her long enough,’ he said, kindly, but in the tone of voice that meant he had decided, and there was nothing that was going to stop him. Dotty nodded, reluctantly.

‘Go on, then,’ she said.

‘Aye, well. One day, Ramsay was here playin’ with ye – ye were oot in the garden, runnin’ around, an’ he fell. I went oot tae pick him up – ye were aboot seven then, I think – an’ he cried out so loud when I put my hand on his little arm.’ Eric’s voice was steady, but Tara watched his face as he told the tale, and could see how difficult it was for him to say the words. ‘I thought it was because he’d hurt himself fallin’, but when I rolled up his sleeve, his whole arm was purple.’

‘Oh, no.’ Tara’s stomach clenched. A sense of dread overcame her, even though her dad was telling her something that had happened over twenty years ago.

Tears sprang to Dotty’s eyes, and she took Tara’s hand across the table.

‘I took him inside. I was very casual, I just said, let’s make sure ye dinnae need a plaster , or somethin’ like that. I took his shirt off, and his whole arm an’ his shoulder was black an’ blue.’ Her father let out a long sigh. ‘I remember, on his back, there was a handprint. Adult sized. I cannae even imagine how hard ye need tae hit a child tae leave a handprint.’ Eric shivered. ‘I still think about that poor wee lad’s bruises. Even now.’

‘Oh my…’ Tara swore under her breath. ‘I knew his dad was mean. But he never wanted to talk about it. Not even when we were older.’

‘Aye. Wanted tae forget it, I dinnae wonder.’ Dotty wiped her eyes with a tissue from a box at the side of the table. ‘Sadly, that wasnae the end o’ it. We agreed that we’d have Ramsay here as much as we could, after that.’

‘What happened to Jack? Is he alive now? Is he still in the village?’ Tara hadn’t even considered the possibility until now. She could count on one hand the number of times that she’d ever met Ramsay’s dad, even though she and Ramsay had grown up together.

Tara’s phone, on the table next to her, lit up.

Tara. Would still love to talk. Let me know. Ramsay x

Tara picked the phone up and read the message. Speak of the devil , she thought, but of course, Ramsay Fraser wasn’t the devil. That was his father, judging from Eric’s story.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, but she didn’t know how to respond. She still didn’t know what to say to Ramsay.

‘He’s still alive? Jack Fraser?’ Tara prompted her parents, wondering if Ramsay was living with his dad, now that he was back in Loch Cameron. It seemed unlikely, but you never knew. She didn’t even know at this point whether Ramsay was here for good, or whether he was just visiting, like her.

‘No, thank the Lord.’ Dotty crossed herself with her free hand. ‘An’ I don’t say that lightly, but there wasnae a worse man in the village for a long time, in my view.’

‘What happened to him?’ Tara took a bite of her sausage, remembering that there was a meal in front of her. Carla had been sitting, agog, as the story unfolded around her. When she saw Tara eat, it seemed to remind her that she too had food in front of her that was going cold, and she started eating again.

‘Heart attack, in the end.’ Dotty pursed her lips. ‘Happens tae drinkers. Not least, cirrhosis of the liver, cancer, all of that. He wasnae old. Ye drink that much, ye want tae die, that’s what I think. Maybe he felt guilty aboot what he did tae that poor wee lad.’ Dotty shook her head, angrily. ‘Some people, ye feel sorry fer. Some, we’ve seen in the bar, over the years, hopeless. They’ve had a rough time. A drink’s all they can find tae escape.’ She sighed. ‘But Jack Fraser, he wasnae like that. He mightae had a rough upbringin’, but didnae we all?’ Dotty stared out of the window for a moment. ‘No. He was pure mean.’

‘Aye,’ Eric said, grimly. ‘Come on, Dot. Ye know that’s not all.’

‘Aye, all right.’ Dotty pulled her lips tight. ‘It was some years after the bruisin’. It still happened, but no’ so much. I’d gone up tae see Jack wi’ yer faither, an’ we’d had a wee chat.’

‘What did you say to him?’ Tara asked.

‘I told him that I knew what he’d done tae Ramsay. He said it was an accident. Said Ramsay had pulled a chest o’ drawers onto himself an’ Jack had had tae pull him out from underneath.’ Dotty’s expression was furious at the memory. ‘I said if anythin’ happened tae Ramsay like that again, I’d report him tae the police.’

‘You should have reported him then,’ Tara argued. ‘That was serious abuse.’

‘Aye, hen. I know,’ Dotty sighed. ‘But we thought, if we let Jack knew that we were keepin’ an eye on him, that would be enough. We were na?ve, I suppose.’

‘So, it didn’t work?’ Tara wondered what else she didn’t know about Ramsay’s past. ‘Mum, I can’t believe you never told me all this.’

‘I’m sorry, darlin’. Your dad and I thought it was best we protected you from it.’ Dotty shrugged. ‘An’ then we thought, when he disappeared, what’s the point now? He was ootae yer life. Ye were upset enough.’

‘So? What happened?’ Tara prompted her mother.

‘Ah, goodness. Well, some years after I had a word wi’ Jack Fraser, don’t ye remember, Ramsay broke his collarbone? An’ ye had tae bow ootae that regional competition?’

‘Yes. He did it swimming. He slipped on the steps by the loch. Fell badly.’ Tara remembered it so well; Ramsay calling her on the phone a few nights before the competition. He’d been so apologetic. Tara remembered telling him over and over again that it was okay, it was just an accident.

‘No, he didn’t, Tara.’ Dotty met her daughter’s eyes.

Tara’s hand flew to her mouth.

‘Oh, no,’ she said, horror filling her from her toes, into her thighs, her stomach, her chest. It felt as though all her blood was turning to wet sand.

‘Jack got home that night, drunk outtae his mind,’ Dotty continued, grimly. ‘He started on Ramsay. He was, what, fourteen at the time?’ she asked Eric, who nodded.

‘Aye. Bigger than a wee bairn, but still no’ a man yet. No’ as big as his dad – Jack was a big fella, too – but big enough tae think he could stand up tae him, I guess.’ Dotty let out a long breath. ‘They had an argument an’ Jack hit him wi’ a cricket bat. Must’ve been Ramsay’s from school. Broke his collarbone an’ a couple o’ ribs.’ Dotty started to cry.

‘No,’ Tara breathed, not believing what she was hearing.

‘Oh my god,’ Carla said, at the same time.

‘I’m afraid so, hen. Ramsay got tae the phone an’ called the ambulance. Poor wee lad had tae go on his own tae the hospital tae get fixed up. First thing me an’ yer dad heard aboot it was the day after. Bill, who drove the ambulance, popped in an’ told us. He knew you and Ramsay were friends, an’ that we’d been keepin’ an eye on the lad.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ Tara repeated. ‘So what did you do? Report Jack to the police?’

‘Aye. I did it myself. Poor Ramsay didnae want me tae, but I had tae.’

‘Good,’ Tara said. ‘So, did he get arrested?’

‘No,’ Dotty said, in a faux light tone that she used when she was particularly angry. ‘I’m afraid he didnae. The police absolutely failed poor Ramsay. They said they could put him in care, but that wouldae meant he’d have had tae move ootae the village. He didnae want tae leave ye, sweetie.

‘So, I asked the police what we could do, an’ that was the point that yer dad an’ I stepped in an’ made up the room for Ramsay here, an’ he moved in. The authorities let us take him in, sort of unofficially, I suppose.’

‘Wow. You wouldn’t be able to do that now,’ Carla said. ‘If I think about the children in care in my school… I mean, it’s very different.’

‘Right. I knew that he came to live with us, but I guess I just thought it was because he was unhappy at home and you were happy to have him. I’m surprised you could sort of adopt him, that way. It wasn’t that long ago. Surely things were supposed to be official. He was a minor,’ Tara added.

‘I know, hen. But Loch Cameron’s a small place, an’ we promised the Laird an’ the local police we’d look after Ramsay. An’ they all knew we would. An’ we did. Got him off to university, just like ye. We were so proud of ye both.’

‘I guess you’ve been a part of the community so long that people would trust you. More than his dad, anyway,’ Tara said, trying to take it in.

‘Aye.’ Dotty paused for a moment. ‘There is somethin’ else.’ A dark look passed over her face.

‘What?’

‘Well, after that time, with the collarbone, your dad an’ some of the fellas from the village went up tae see Jack. No’ me that time.’ Dotty’s face took on a hard expression. ‘They persuaded Jack tae leave the village an’ never come back.’

‘What do you mean?’ Tara turned to her father. ‘You threatened him?’ A curl of dread unfurled in her stomach.

‘Jack Fraser left Loch Cameron that night an’ never came back. I heard he died a few years later. Couldnae have happened to a nicer fella,’ Eric said, shortly.

‘What does that mean?’ Tara asked, incredulously.

‘It means what it means, hen. We dinnae stand fer hurtin’ kids, no’ in Loch Cameron.’ Eric’s voice was low, and his expression was uncharacteristically hard. Tara was used to her dad being so sweet and gentle that it was strange, seeing him like this.

‘I didn’t know that. I thought… I dunno. That his dad was working away or something,’ Tara said, furious that this secret had been kept from her. ‘He never said.’

‘I guess there was a lot of things that went unsaid,’ Eric mused. ‘Dunno if we did the right thing by runnin’ Jack ootae town, but Ramsay was better off here. I’m just sad it took until he was fourteen tae do it.’

Tara stood up and started pacing the room.

‘I don’t know what to do with this information,’ she said, running her fingers through her hair.

‘Well, it’s the truth.’ Dotty picked up her knife and fork and started eating again.

‘ Mum. What am I supposed to say to him now?’ Tara felt terrible for having been so mean to Ramsay now. Even though he had still done what he’d done to her. But this new knowledge changed things. She couldn’t feel the same. Everything had shifted. ‘I was – I am – still so angry at him for what he did.’ She lowered her eyes, thinking about what she’d done. The thing that had tortured her for so long.

She had to say it out loud.

‘I did something. I never knew if he hated me for it,’ she said, looking down at her plate. ‘If that was why he left.’

‘What, poppet?’ Dotty looked concerned.

‘Oh, god.’ Tara put her hands over her eyes. ‘Okay. I tried to find his mum. That first term we were away at university.’

‘His mum? How? Why?’ Dotty asked, her eyes wide.

‘I knew he missed her. He’d been talking about his mum a lot around that time. I guess because we were about to leave the village, this whole new life was going to start. He had said a couple of times that he wondered where she was. That he missed her. That I was so lucky to have you and dad around to support me.’

‘We treated him like our own,’ Dotty said.

‘I know, Mum. And he was so grateful for it. But I guess he always knew that he wasn’t really yours, no matter how much you made him feel like part of the family.’ Tara sighed. ‘Anyway, I asked around, and there were a couple of people who had been friends with Mrs Fraser. I wanted to ask you. Mum, but I didn’t know if you’d think it was a good idea.’

‘Ah, darlin’. I wouldae helped.’ Dotty frowned.

‘I know. Anyway, I got a phone number. I called it, but she didn’t answer, so I left a message. That was all that happened – I did try her again a few times, but there was never a reply. But there was an answerphone message, so I do think it was the right number. She just didn’t get back in touch, for whatever reason.’

‘Nothing at all?’ Carla asked. ‘I would have thought, if you’d had to leave your child… you’d want to see him again, wouldn’t you?’

‘I know. I thought so. But then, about a week later, she texted me,’ Tara continued. ‘It was really short, but she asked me for his number, so I gave it to her. And then I never heard any more from her. I was going to tell him – explain what I’d done – and I was so hopeful that they’d reconcile. That Ramsay would have his mum back again. But then, I got that note from him and he disappeared, and that was that for ten years.’

‘Oh my goodness.’ Carla put her hand on her chest. ‘No offence, but that is straight up soap opera territory drama.’

‘I know. But it’s been weighing on my mind for all this time. What if… I don’t know? He didn’t want to hear from her, and it was a huge betrayal of trust? Or, what if she did get in touch with him and it turned out badly? That she was abusive as well, and I unwittingly re-introduced this toxic element back into his life? The fact that it was at the same time as that note, and the time he disappeared… I’ve just always worried about it. I felt like… maybe him disappearing was my fault.’ Tara’s heart contracted, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

‘Oh, Tara. I’m sure none of that’s true.’ Dotty leaned over and gave her daughter a huge hug. ‘You shouldae said somethin’. All these years, you’ve been worried aboot that?’

‘Yeah. But don’t you think it’s a huge coincidence?’ Tara said, her face smushed into Dotty’s cardigan.

‘Yes, darlin’. I do. That’s exactly what it was. A coincidence, nothin’ more,’ her mother said, placatingly. ‘You did a nice thing for the lad. No, we don’t know how it turned out. But he certainly wouldnae have done what he did because of that. I’m sure of it.’

‘But, how can you be sure?’ Tara pulled away from the hug.

‘I just am,’ Dotty replied. ‘Trust me. Do you trust me? Yer wise auld mother?’ She gave Tara a gentle peck on the cheek.

‘Of course I trust you, Mum,’ Tara replied.

‘Well, then. We’ll have no more talk aboot all this bein’ yer fault,’ Dotty said in her no-nonsense voice.

‘Talk tae the poor boy, Tara,’ her dad added. ‘Just talk to him, okay? Promise me you’ll do that.’

‘I will, Dad.’ Tara let out a long breath. ‘I will.’

‘And, I agree. I don’t think him leaving was your fault at all,’ Eric added. ‘Your mother is right. As always.’ He twinkled his warm smile at Dotty, who reached for his hand over the table and squeezed it.

It’s not your fault . The words rang in her head, and reverberated in her heart like a bell, sonorous and deep, disrupting the old truths that had lodged there for so long.

Could Dotty and Eric be right about this, like they were – as it pained Tara to admit – usually right about most things?

Could she really let go of the guilt she had been holding for all these years?