‘Deb! Oh, thank goodness I found ye.’ Dotty burst into the vestibule, wringing her hands. ‘Ah, sorry if I’m interruptin’. Hello, Zelda dear. Ye look bonny. An so do you, Hal. Handsome as ever.’
‘Hi, Dotty.’ Hal stepped forward and gave Dotty a kiss on the cheek. ‘Looking bonny as always yoursel’. You have tae save me a dance later.’
‘Oh, get away wi’ ye.’ Dotty flapped her hands at him, impatiently.
Hal turned back to Deb. ‘Umm, Deb – aye, let me have a think aboot that. There might be somethin’ I can do. Leave it wi’ me.’
‘All right. Thanks, Hal.’ Deb turned to Dotty. ‘Hi, Dotty – do you need me?’
‘Umm, aye. Deb, dear, can I steal ye for a wee minute?’ Dotty had an air of panic about her, which Deb – as a seasoned event planner – knew all too well.
‘We’ll take over here, if you like,’ Zelda offered. ‘I can give out the favours, and Hal can welcome people. I’ve got the schedule on my phone, so we know when everything is due to happen.’
‘All right. Great, thanks.’ Deb looked at her phone for a minute, discombobulated by Dotty’s sudden arrival, and what Hal had said before that. ‘Ummm. Right. I’ll need you both for the welcome and toasts, and starting the dancing. Then we’ve got the bonfire lighting at nine, if Hal wants to do his customary poem reading.’ Deb had researched the poem, Tam O’ Shanter by Robert Burns, and she had to admit that she was intrigued to see Hal Cameron perform it.
‘Right you are.’ Hal nodded.
However, she felt odd when she thought about her grandmother’s story being shared with the whole village: a rubbing of the edges of her family history and the lairds of Loch Cameron.
It had been Donald Cameron, the laird at that time, who had changed Elise’s – and therefore Janice’s, and her own – life, so suddenly and without warning. His decision had had an impact on the generations of Sutherland women. Now, Hal Cameron was about to apologise for that decision in front of the whole village. Generations later, had Deb in some way balanced karma between the two families? She didn’t know, but it felt… fitting, at least.
She couldn’t think about all of that now, though.
‘Dotty. I’m all yours.’ Deb adjusted the wireless headphone in her ear, which was there so that she could receive calls easily. You never knew what was going to happen at an event, and since Deb had had to call an ambulance at a previous event because someone had fallen over on some steep steps and fractured their ankle, she was prepared for anything.
‘There’s a problem wi’ the drinks,’ Dotty whispered. ‘It’s the chamomile liqueur for the Clan Cameron cocktail. I thought Eric put it in the car, an’ he thought I did. It must still be at the Inn, behind the bar.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Oh, right.’ Deb frowned. ‘Can we do without it? I mean, can we substitute something for it?’
‘No’ really, lassie.’ Dotty shook her head. ‘It’s the signature cocktail fer the evenin’. I prepared the chamomile liqueur and the herb syrup weeks ago. It won’t be the same without it.’
‘No, I don’t suppose it will.’ Deb sighed. ‘Okay. People are arriving now, so I need you and Eric on the bar. If you give me the keys to the Inn, I’ll take the car down and get the chamomile thing, and the herb syrup and bring them back. Just give people wine and beer for now, and soft drinks.’
‘Right ye are, lassie.’ Dotty reached into her pocket and brought out a set of keys. ‘This is the main lock fer the front door, an’ this is the deadlock. Thank ye.’
‘No problem.’ Deb took the keys and picked up her handbag from under the table of buttonholes and corsages, where Zelda had taken a seat and was now handing favours out to a line of villagers who were starting to stream into the castle. ‘Zelda, can you hold the fort? I’ve got to pop down to the village for something.’
‘Will do.’ Zelda gave Deb a wink.
’Thank you! Won’t be long!’
She dashed out onto the gravel drive at the front of the castle, where groups of villagers were gathered, talking and laughing, and got into her car.
Driving carefully down the long gravel driveway that led away from the castle, Deb wound down her window, despite the cold of the air outside. The air was cold, but she felt she needed it.
Was she stressed out by the event, and the last minute dash to the Inn? No, that wasn’t it. She was a seasoned enough event organiser not to let something like that get on top of her.
The party was starting, and everyone was enjoying themselves. So, why did she feel so low, all of a sudden? Itwas good that Hal was going to talk about Elise. She felt glad about that, but it was tinged with sadness. It was sad that her grandmother couldn’t be there to hear the apology. It should have been her.
At the same time, Deb realised that she’d had the party to focus on, all this time, and now, it was almost over. Tomorrow, she would have to think about her life again, and it was that, too, that was making her anxious. She would have to organise moving out of her flat with Dan, find somewhere new to live, and be single for the first time in years.
I was supposed to be happily married by now, she thought, as she drove over the narrow, blue painted bridge that linked the castle grounds to the village, crossing the loch at its narrowest point.Or, something. I was supposed to be settled, to know what I was doing.But I don’t. Not like Zelda and Hal, or Dotty and Eric.They had each other, and they had lives. They knew what they were doing.
She drove to the Inn, parked in the car park and stared into the darkness. She knew she should be in a hurry – to pick up the chamomile infusion and the herb syrup and take them back to the castle – but she just sat and looked up at the moon, which glowed in a black sky, garlanded by grey clouds.
What am I doing?she asked herself.What will I do, now that this job is over? I’ve found roots here. Do I want to stay? Or go back to Glasgow?
You’re making a new start, the answer came, as if the moon had heard and replied.
