Echo panted, obviously very pleased with himself. As she leaned down to pat his head he took the opportunity to stick his nose into the picnic bag.
‘Oh, I see. You’re not here to keep me company, you can smell the picnic too. Well, all right then, come on. Let’s find somewhere to sit down.’
Echo bounded past her along the path before heading off towards the forest’s edge.
‘Don’t go too far, I’m not Bear Grylls you know,’ she called after him, and to her surprise, the dog turned to wait for her.
After striding along the treeline through the longer heather and shrubby, sharp bushy plants Beatrice didn’t recognise at all, they came to a cluster of rocks. ‘Perfect,’ she announced and they settled themselves and unpacked Atholl’s picnic which turned out to be a slice of a satisfyingly sharp-tasting lemon drizzle cake and a big flat floury breakfast roll somewhat overfilled with cold bacon, square sausage and, of course, haggis.
‘Delicious,’ she said to Echo who grudged her every bite until she relented and started passing him torn off hunks of food which he wolfed down.
They watched a hawk of some kind – Beatrice thought for a second how she wished Atholl was there to identify it – circling and hovering before swooping down into the heathers hunting for its own lunch.
Apart from the occasional car crunching along the road a good three hundred yards away they were completely alone.
‘So tell me, Echo. Your master? What’s he like to live with, eh?’ There was a flask of hot coffee at the bottom of the bag which she unscrewed. ‘He seems kind and caring, right? If a bit gruff at first?’
Echo stared out at the grey mountains beneath the broad sky, sniffing for rabbits.
‘It must be nice living here, you lucky boy. I didn’t like the Highlands at first, mind you, your boss was so grumpy and rude then. And so was I, I suppose.’ Echo, full of food and giving up on the rabbits, turned towards her and lay his head over her knee. ‘Aww, thanks boy. See, I’m not grumpy now, am I? Or badly behaved. Being here seems to have helped me get out of some old habits I’d got stuck with. I was sad, you see, for a long time.’ She placed a hand on the dog’s warm skull and he closed his eyes contentedly, rolled onto his side and let his head shift onto her lap. ‘But I’ve managed to process some of those feelings a bit and it was your boss that did it… he helped me say goodbye to some difficult things, and he got me talking. And now look at me, talking to you like a weirdo.’
She smiled at the sound of Echo grunting as she shifted a little, trying to make herself comfy on the rock.
‘The trouble with talking about your feelings is you just keep finding more feelings underneath, even messier ones. Like suddenly wishing I could phone my husband.’
Echo sleepily raised a bushy black eyebrow and glanced up at her before drifting off to sleep.
‘You’resurprised? Tell me about it. I didn’t think Rich and I had anything more to say to each other, but now…’ Beatrice sighed and drained the little coffee cup before refilling it, trying to remember when the feeling had first appeared. She had been dimly aware of the need last night and had awakened this morning with it pressing upon her again. Watching that bassinette floating away from her made her realise how much she wished Rich had been there to say goodbye too. Somehow the farewell felt one-sided and only partial – and a little wrong – without her baby’s other parent there.
‘But he’s not around, Echo. Got his own place now, which is kind of sad, isn’t it?’ She absently stroked the silky fluff that ran along Echo’s floppy ears, half thinking how white it was, half lost in thoughts of Rich and how their house had been cold and empty for a long time even before Rich moved out. Familiarity had replaced passion long ago, and yet losing that familiar, comforting presence had been devastating. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it ‘til now… too mixed up with losing Mum, and my job – a job I was so good at and honestly it was my reason for existing for nearly twenty years – and then of course, there was the baby. But you know, Echo, my whole way of life was yanked out from under me, and Rich did a runner right when I was at my lowest point. That’s hardly fair, is it? I mean, I know I was hard work at the end, but it still stings.’
Something unexpected bubbled up in her blood and for once it wasn’t accompanied by guilt or grief. She was just straight-up, honest to God, angry.
‘The bastard!’
Echo suddenly sat up, alert, scanning the landscape and sniffing the air, his ears pricked up into points.
‘It’s all right, Echo. We’re on our own. Come on, snuggle up again.’
He didn’t need much convincing and after a few ear scratches from Beatrice he curled into a ball against her thigh, but kept his eyes open this time.
‘Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry little mate.’ Beatrice examined her feelings and they felt clearer than ever before. Yes, she was angry but the brittle bitterness had left her.
‘Even if he is a bastard for leaving, I still wish I could reach him and tell him about the bassinette… and talk about the baby a little. I told your master about him, but it’s Rich I should really be talking to about him. But I don’t even know where he is.’
She missed her husband, plain and simple, but the feeling of being abandoned, of being unwanted didn’t ache quite so much as she expected.
She circled her hand through the thick fur of Echo’s neck. Where had it come from, this new lightness that was soothing her pain and had allowed her to laugh again, to admire beautiful views, to chat and gossip with new friends at the inn, and to very nearlyalmostkiss another man? A man who wasn’t her husband but a handsome, broad, rugged red-haired Scotsman. Was Atholl the source of this new lightness? She didn’t have to probe her feelings too deeply to know that, in part, he was.
‘Pfft! But what’s he like, eh? Your boss. I’m not the only one changing, am I? He almost killed me on those rocks at the coral beach. You know, you were there. And he did nothing but antagonise me… and patch up my knees, and give me a nice room to stay in… and try to teach me new things like willow-weaving… and Highland customs that can really help a girl out of a fix…’ She let out a long breath and her shoulders fell. ‘And he introduced me to his family when I was all alone, whisked me off to Skye… Maybe he isn’t softening, maybe he was soft all along and it was me that was as hard as nails.’
But he did seem to be giving way even more, she thought. Was it seeing his brother on the brink of finding love and independence that did it? Was it getting degree by degree closer to running his willow workshops as a business that was making him happier? Or was there more to it?
‘You don’t think your old man might… like me… a little bit, do you, Echo? Hedefinitelyleaned into that kiss, didn’t he? Before you turned up all covered in river crap and spoiled it, thanks very much.’
She replayed the moment yesterday and was convinced their lips had almost touched. And she’d seen his Adam’s apple bob as he’d swallowed hard when she was talking about the signs of attraction. Thinking back she could have sworn the conversation was having an effect on the very air between them, charging it with a low electric buzz. Yes, he really had leaned in for a kiss. She couldn’t have imagined all of that? And his respectful tenderness last night? The way he’d kept his distance, waiting by the inn door until she had said her goodbyes.
‘There’s only one way to know what he thinks about me for sure, Echo. I need to tell him I like him, right?’
