‘No, Campbeltown High. And I’ll tell you something.’ Niall’s gut twisted. Even though he sometimes raised this topic when he was teaching, talking about it here, where it all happened, spiked the shame. ‘I got kicked out of school.’
‘What? Like excluded?’
‘Kind of, aye. More like asked to make the choice to leave, halfway through fifth year.’
‘Aye?’ Kieran’s interest was piqued. ‘What for?’
‘Och, it’s not something I shout about.’ Getting asked to leave school was far from Niall’s proudest moment. ‘Just being a pain in the arse. Some of it was not getting on with teachers, but some of it was not turning up to classes, not doing any work, giving backchat to teachers, being an arrogant wee shite.’
‘But posh kids don’t get excluded.’
‘Like I said, I’m not posh, but yes they do.’
‘So, how come you didn’t go to Ferniebrae?’
‘Well, because they only take kids up to fourth year. So I ended up studying at home with my mum supervising me and did way better than I would have done in school. Satsome highers in fifth year then went off to college up in Thurso to study business. It’s not quite the same as you, but I get a bit of what it’s like. But let’s pretend I am posh. If I wasn’t then I might not be in this position to help kids like you. I had a supportive family who got me back on track. Otherwise, things might have turned out differently. So that’s why I want to help teach kids that haven’t had the best time of it to surf. And trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of changed lives.’
The whole time Niall was talking, Kieran watched and listened, but as soon as he finished the boy dived in with a question. ‘So, when can I start? Today?’
Niall wished they could. He would love to wade into the water again and get Kieran up on his board, see him emerge from under a wave beaming with joy because he’d stood up for three seconds.
‘Unfortunately, ’cause of your age, we need to sort out police checks and stuff, but it shouldn’t take too long. In the meantime, we can get you fitted out with all the gear.’
‘Brilliant.’ Kieran nodded with vigour. ‘Can I bring my mates? You should set up a surf school.’
‘Ha, aye, you can, and I already did. But it’s in Australia. That’s where I live now. I’m over here visiting family for a bit.’
‘Oh.’ Kieran appeared so crestfallen that Niall wanted to say something to make it better.
‘I might stick around and, if not, I’ll find someone else who can teach you. A personal recommendation from me. As long as you promise not to give up.’
‘Oh aye, I can do that.’ Kieran’s face lit up with the September sun and Niall experienced that life-affirming warmth from making a difference to someone else’s life. There was nothing quitelike it.
After saying goodbye to Kieran, Niall walked into the village. There were a few things he wanted to buy for Carli, to make her camping trip a little more comfortable, although he sincerely hoped she’d go for the hotel option.
Kinshore High Street offered a safe reassurance with many of the same shops that had been there throughout Niall’s childhood. The butcher’s, the florist’s, the bakery. He was drawn in by the smell of fresh coffee and bread and enjoyed chatting to a school friend who now managed the bakery, having upgraded it with a deluxe coffee machine. The man would inherit the business from his father, as Jamie would the distillery. Jimmy had wanted them all to take a role, but only Jamie ended up taking that route. Although Sean made the barrels for the family whisky and Cal ran bars that sold the stuff. And what did Niall do?
Buggered off to Australia and became a surf instructor.
Niall grabbed a coffee and croissant to go and wandered further up the high street. He took a turning that led down a narrower street where he was greeted by compact stone cottages with neat squares of garden out front. Terracotta pots containing brightly coloured flowers sat on doorsteps under front doors painted either pink or white, as if the neighbours had agreed to colour coordinate. How very Kinshore. God, this place was idyllic. How had he never noticed growing up? It was tempting to use one of the tourists’ favourite words: quaint.
At the end of a high stone wall an archway led into a walled public garden. Kinshore’s ‘secret garden’. Not that it was a huge secret to anyone from here.
The secret garden was a small space, about the size of a tennis court, with rows of rose beds and several varnishedwooden benches. A team of keen volunteers maintained it, but it was always surprisingly quiet, even in summer. Niall and Carli had come here and chatted, sometimes about Carli’s mum, sometimes about Niall’s struggles at school, sometimes about nothing much at all, and if they weren’t talking they were kissing, hands fumbling, staring the faces off each other.
Niall wandered the short perimeter path, drinking his coffee, swiping the occasional crumb off his jacket, and soaking in the calm vibe. Goosebumps rose up on his skin at the care the locals had taken of the place. All the benches had plaques, the name of which Niall recognised: all touching, some sad. A young lad, Tom, who’d passed away from illness in his teens, Mrs Christie who’d run the sweet shop in the village and always given him extra bon bons because she liked him. And Carli’s mum.
Alison Caselli, nee Campbell. Mother of Carlotta and Lucia, beloved wife of Gianluca.
Beloved. Really? If Carli’s dad had cared so much about his wife, he would have honoured her wishes to have her daughters finish their education here. And he wouldn’t have wanted to rush back to Australia faster than bloody Concorde. Like Carli, he’d have wanted to be close to Alison, dead or not.
At least, that’s how it seemed to Niall. How he’d have felt if it were his mum, heaven forbid.
Of course, who was he to judge? He’d messed with Carli’s head like her father had. Gianluca Caselli might be a fuckwit, but so was Niall Butler.
One of them was trying to make amends now, though.
‘Hey, Alison. Long time, no speak.’ Niall talked to the plaque, aware of the irony that he had never met Carli’s mum but was at complete ease talking to her bench. ‘Iwanted to say that if you played any part in bringing me and Carli back together, then thank you. I’m going to make amends for all the shit… trouble, in the past. You’ve an amazing daughter and I’m not a stupid wee boy anymore, and while we’re in Kinshore together, I’ll look after her, okay?’
