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

Chapter 26

TWENTY-SIX

Tara was packing the last of her things into her wheelie suitcase when there was a knock on her bedroom door.

Since she’d been staying in her old room, she’d done some tidying up: she’d taken down the posters of the bands that had been hanging up since she was in her early teens and put her old stuffed toys in a bag to donate to the community centre.

As for the dancing trophies, she had packed a couple to take home to her flat. They were nice things to keep: she had lots of good memories about her dancing career.

Carefully, she had mended the old silver necklace after tearing it from her neck in anger, and stored it in a small jewellery box. She stared at it for a moment before putting it in her pocket. It would always be a part of her life, and, despite the sad memories attached to it, there were many good ones, too.

Carla had gone home the week before. It had been good, having her to stay at the Inn. Part of Tara was looking forward to getting back to the flat, and their old life together. She was looking forward to re-establishing herself in her real life; where she had a real job, and she could rely on the fact that she wasn’t going to run into old memories or old lovers around every corner. Being back in Loch Cameron had been exhausting, both emotionally and physically. Tara didn’t think she’d ever worked as hard as in the last few weeks at the Inn, from making up rooms to breakfasts, lunches and dinners and the thousand and one other tasks that running the Loch Cameron Inn demanded.

But she was also dreading going back to Lomond Primary. Yet, she’d learnt something from Agnes, and that was resilience. If Agnes could stand to work alongside the man who had treated her so badly, then Tara could manage working in a toxic workplace. At the very least, she could look for something else, if she decided that she really wasn’t happy.

She had gone down to the loch, earlier that morning, to say goodbye to it. The haar was down, and the whole village had been blanketed in a heavy mist.

Please , she had asked the waters of the loch again, trailing her fingers in its silky, cold surface. Please bring me peace.

She had taken in a deep breath and let it go, slowly. Calm and clarity. Calm and clarity she had repeated, like she had done before.

Then, she’d walked up to Queen’s Point and hugged each oak tree in the circle that was her special place of peace. I’ll miss you , she’d thought, as she’d pressed her cheek against each tree’s rough bark. Thank you.

She would miss the loch and the oak trees. She would miss the view of the castle across the loch, with the narrow blue bridge that led to it, and the morning haar that sometimes snaked through her open window, like a ghost.

She would miss the food market, the bread and cakes that she bought there, wrapped up in paper bags, which smelt so good when she unwrapped them.

She would miss the crochet coven, and all the kindness of the people of Loch Cameron, who had accepted her back into the community as one of their own, as if she had never left.

Tara resolved to come back and visit more often. Now that she had settled things with Dotty a little more, she felt easier about coming home.

‘Come in,’ she called, looking up.

‘Tara, darlin’.’ Her dad pushed the door open, but stayed in the hallway outside. He looked a little uncomfortable.

‘I’m just coming,’ she said, zipping the suitcase.

‘It’s no’ that, hen.’ Eric made an awkward scuffing motion with his shoes on the carpet.

‘Dad?’ Tara frowned, wondering what was wrong.

‘You’ve got a visitor, downstairs,’ Eric said.

‘Who?’ she asked, confused. ‘Can’t you just say I’m leaving in a minute? If it’s one of the girls from the crochet coven, I’ve got their numbers. They know I’m going today.’

‘I think you’d better just come down, hen,’ Eric repeated.

‘Okay…’ she replied, nonplussed. Her dad was being uncharacteristically vague. ‘Can you bring my suitcase down, then?’ she asked her dad, who nodded.

‘Course,’ he said.

Tara walked down the stairs, half wondering who could have popped in and why it demanded so much mystery on her dad’s part, and half thinking about how strange it would be to leave the Inn and go back to her real life. Because, since she’d been here, she’d been reminded of how Loch Cameron felt like home. Was her life in Glasgow her real life? Yes, she’d missed teaching, and she missed the children at school. But, she had to admit that most of the rest of her life in Glasgow was a little underwhelming.

She’d made friends in Loch Cameron and reconnected to the land here. And, while she didn’t necessarily want to live with her parents for much longer, it had been nice to spend time with them again.

‘Hi, Tara.’ Ramsay Fraser looked up as she walked into the bar.

He was standing next to one of the comfy chairs to the right of the bar, with his hand resting awkwardly on the back on it, like he was about to take a formal photograph.

‘Ramsay,’ she said, warily. Eric, who had followed her down the stairs with her suitcase, cleared his throat noisily.

‘Well,’ he declared. ‘I’ll just put this in yer car,’ he said, and disappeared into the hallway leading off the bar. Tara heard the front door to the Inn open and close: her dad was obviously giving them some space.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘I’m leaving in a minute.’

‘I wanted to catch you before you leave.’ Ramsay gripped the top of the easy chair. ‘Your mum called me. Said we should talk.’

‘Oh. Did she indeed,’ Tara said, looking around for Dotty, who was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Dotty was getting around a bit better now, and Eric had got Kathy from the crochet coven to take over from Tara, now that school was about to start again.

It’ll just be short term until Mum’s fully back on her feet again , Eric had said, giving Dotty a squeeze around her shoulders. But Tara suspected that Eric would be persuading her to take it easier from now on, and she didn’t think that was a bad thing at all.

She supposed that she should have seen this coming, after her talk with her parents and Carla over dinner, a week or so ago. But they hadn’t mentioned it again, and, knowing that she was going back home, she’d thought that perhaps everything was better left alone.

Clearly, Dotty hadn’t been able to resist interfering.

‘Can we talk?’ Ramsay repeated.

‘Umm… I suppose so,’ she said.

‘Can we sit down?’ Ramsay asked. The Inn wasn’t open for customers yet: Tara had planned to leave about ten thirty in the morning.

‘Okay,’ Tara said.

They sat down, opposite each other.

‘So.’ Tara wondered how to begin. She knew that he had some things to explain, but her confession weighed on her mind, too. She’d decided that she wasn’t going to say anything, but now that he was here, she felt suddenly nauseous at the idea that she would have to tell him what she’d done – contacting his estranged mother, and prompting whatever chaos that had or hadn’t manifested in his life.

‘I need to talk to you,’ Ramsay repeated. He’d pressed his hands together into a tight ball, and Tara could see that the knuckles were white.

‘I need to talk to you, too,’ she sighed. ‘Can I go first?’

‘Sure.’ He looked surprised, but leaned forward, his hands on his knees in a curiously nervous-looking posture.

‘Okay.’ Tara took a deep breath, and repeated what she’d told her parents the week before. Ramsay’s eyes widened as she told her story, but he didn’t look away for a second.

‘So, I suppose I always wanted to know what happened between you and your mum – and whether that was the reason you disappeared so suddenly,’ Tara finished, trying to keep her tone level. She wanted to stay calm, but her stomach was a ball of nerves. She had worried about this for so long.

‘Wow. Okay. Well, I guess the first thing to say is, that wasn’t the reason I cut ties with you. With everyone.’ He sighed.

‘Why did you then?’

‘Umm. I don’t know where to start. The beginning, I guess,’ he sighed. ‘Okay. Before I tell you what happened with my mum, we need to actually have a conversation about what happened when I left Loch Cameron,’ he began, and Tara’s stomach tensed even further. What was he going to say?

‘When you left me, you mean?’ she asked, unsmilingly. It was still so raw, and even though she had her anxieties about the part she’d played in it all, that pain had cut her, deeply .

‘Yeah. I guess so.’ Ramsay let out a breath. ‘Listen. When we went away to our different universities… I mean, it was fun, but I missed you like crazy. We had that big argument just before I went away. Do you remember that? And for the first time, I was without you. And I hated it.’

‘Of course I remember,’ she said, quietly. ‘It was what made me try and get in contact with your mum. You were so uptight. I thought… I thought it would help.’

Tara remembered exactly what they’d said; where they’d been, even what she was wearing, that day. It was just a couple of days before they were due to leave for university. She had been wearing a green jumper that Dotty had crocheted for her, and jeans. She and Ramsay had gone out for a walk along the loch. It was the last week in September and it was freezing, even for Scotland at that time of year.

Tara had bundled herself up in her dad’s sheepskin coat and a knitted hat. Ramsay – who was always warm, had worn a navy-blue sweater and a scarf, jeans and his old hiking boots.

I sometimes wish I could talk to her , he’d said, out of the blue. I wish I could ask her why she didn’t take me with her.

Tara had known that Ramsay had been talking about his mum.

I’m sure she would have taken you with her, if she could , Tara had replied, hesitantly. Maybe she couldn’t.

Why couldn’t she? He’d turned to her, the question burning in his eyes.

I don’t know, babe , she’d replied. But you know Mum and Dad love you.

They’re not my parents , he’d replied, uncharacteristically darkly.

Well, they think of themselves as your mum and dad , she’d replied. A little hurt by his tone.

Not everyone is as lucky as you , he’d replied, sharply.

I know that , she’d replied. Why are you being like this? You’re pushing me away.

Like what?

You don’t want to talk. You’ve hardly kissed me recently. Or anything else.

It was true: Ramsay had been keeping to his room at the Inn, saying that he had reading to do ahead of the course. Usually, they had spent all their time together, walking, dancing, kissing under the stars and talking about the future. He had been withdrawn.

You’re imagining things. I’m here, aren’t I?

Yes, you’re here, in body, if not soul , she’d said, trying to be patient. Tell me what’s wrong.

Nothing’s wrong.

Fine. Go and live your new life without me, then Tara had said, crossly, her temper rising up.

Fine. I will.

But, after that, they hadn’t really spoken for the rest of the day, and then Ramsay had left early to go to university, saying that he had things to do. It was then that Tara had decided to try and find his mother, thinking that might have helped cheer him up.

‘I hated myself after that argument. But I felt like you wanted to be away from me. That was what I was so upset about, that day. It was like you’d decided there was no room for me anymore,’ she said.

‘I didn’t want to leave you, babe. But we got accepted at different universities,’ Ramsay said, carefully. ‘I felt like you were pushing me away. You said something like, go and live your new life without me. I was hurt, so I said, fine, I will.’

‘It was a long time ago. We were just kids,’ Tara sighed. ‘I felt the same. I thought you were pushing me away, so I guess I thought, I’ll just let you go.’ She took a moment, then continued ‘But, then, when you came back, and we got back together, and you proposed at New Year… I was so happy.’ Tears had sprung to her eyes, and she wiped them away in irritation. ‘Then you were gone, just a few weeks after that. It didn’t make any sense.’

‘I know. I can only imagine how that must have been for you, Tara, and I’m sorry.’ Ramsay sounded so full of regret; even though Tara wanted to be anywhere than here, having this conversation, her heart still hurt for him.

‘When I left for uni, it was a huge change for me,’ he continued. ‘I just want you to understand where I was, at the time. I’m not making excuses. Okay?’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

‘Right. Well, we’d both only ever lived here, in Loch Cameron. And then, suddenly, I realised I wasn’t going to have you or Dotty and Eric to depend on, and I sort of felt at sea,’ Ramsay explained. ‘Can you understand that? With… my family background, and everything? You and your mum and dad were all the family I had. And I had to leave all of you. It was tough.’

‘I know. I do understand,’ Tara said, softly. ‘Mum’s told me some things about your dad that I didn’t know when we were younger. You never talked about him.’

‘I didn’t want to. He was a cruel bastard.’ Ramsay’s expression darkened. ‘I didn’t want to scare you, or make you feel sorry for me. I just wanted not to think about him, most of the time.’

‘He passed away, Mum said,’ Tara said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah.’ Ramsay let out a long sigh. ‘I’ve been in therapy the past couple of years, and it’s helping me deal with it. Because I’m still mourning him, which seems nuts. Like, shouldn’t I be delighted he died? But he was still my dad, you know? And, there’s a part of me that’s mourning the life I could have had, too. If he’d have been a decent father. Maybe my mum would have stayed. Maybe I would have made better choices. I could have had a happy home life, like yours. Not always been thinking about how I could get away, or, if I had to be there, if he was going to come home drunk. And, then, how drunk. Would he just fall asleep on the couch, or would he come at me with the poker, or his belt.’ Ramsay put his head in his hands.

‘What your parents did, taking me in… I never forgot that. And I’ll talk to both of them, too, because they deserve an apology.’ He sat up and put his hands back in his lap.

‘I’m sure they just want to know what happened. Like me,’ she said, pointedly.

‘The thing was that I meant it. When I asked you to marry me. It was always what I’d imagined for our future. We talked about it all the time. And then when I went away to university and I realised how much I missed you – it was like a piece of me that I’d left behind. It physically hurt, being away from you. And that was why I proposed. I just couldn’t be away from you,’ he continued.

‘But then, you were. For ten years,’ Tara said, the same teary frustration welling up in her as before. ‘And I still don’t know why.’

Ramsay sighed deeply.

‘Please don’t judge me for what I’m about to say, Tara. It’s taken me a really long time to have the courage to say this to you,’ he began, slowly. She nodded. Any closure was better than none, and she had waited such a long time to hear this. Whatever it was, it had to be better than not knowing.

‘In that first term, after we’d broken up, I was really lonely,’ Ramsay began, shakily. ‘I’d never not spoken to you for a day, and suddenly, we were miles apart, and we’d split up. Well, we hadn’t really spoken after that argument and we never argued. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I found it really hard to cope. I started drinking.’ He stopped talking for a moment and took in a deep breath.

‘It was something I swore I’d never do. Because of my dad,’ he said, raking his fingers through his hair. ‘But I did. I drank heavily. Passed out a few times. And there were a couple of uni parties. You know, fresher’s month, all that.’

‘I know.’ There had been similar parties at Tara’s university, all aimed at getting the students to know each other. She’d gone to a couple – they were all right, although Tara had never been much of a drinker.

‘Well… I met a girl at one of the parties,’ Ramsay continued.

Oh no . As soon as he said the words, dread balled its fist in Tara’s tummy and started to punch upwards to her heart.

‘And?’ Tara asked, not wanting to know the answer, but needing to hear it.

‘We slept together. A one-night thing. Neither of us had been drinking a lot that night. She was in one of my classes, and we’d said a few things back and forward here and there. So, I knew her to say hello to but that was about it. The party was raging but I had a hangover and I wasn’t drinking. I was just about to go back to halls – parties where everyone’s drunk except you are awful – and I saw her and said hi. She’d been thinking the same thing. Anyway…’ he let out another long breath. ‘We ended up sleeping together.’

‘Oh.’ Tara didn’t know what else to say.

‘Yeah.’ Ramsay balled his fists together again.

‘So, you left me because of her?’ Tara tried to keep her tone even, but she couldn’t hide the confusion she felt. ‘A one-night stand. But this was before I saw you that Christmas. And you proposed . Oh, my god, Ramsay. You asked me to marry you. After that.’

‘You and I had broken up. It… sleeping with Sarah – it was a mistake. When I got home at Christmas I realised that I wanted – needed – to be with you forever. It was always you, Tara.’

‘No. It wasn’t. Because clearly, whatever you had with this Sarah changed everything,’ Tara snapped. Sarah. She remembered the cute woman at the park, with the blonde bob. How Ramsay had smiled and waved at her. Her stomach twisted with jealousy.

‘Yes. It did. But not in the way you think, Tara.’ Ramsay leaned forward. He paused, looking as though he was thinking about what to say next. ‘On that night, Sarah got pregnant.’ He closed his eyes, as if he didn’t want to watch her face as he said the words. Or that he could. ‘I didn’t love Sarah. I don’t love her now. But I do love our daughter, Kelly.’