Page 5 of Highland Games
Sam: What’s the hovel like? Met Rumpelstiltskin?!
Sam: Any hot Scots? XXXXXXX
Sam: When are you coming home?!!
Zoe messaged back.
Zoe: Had Sam Heughan round for shortbread and whisky last night, and deep-fried Mars Bars count as one of your five a day – everyone knows that lol. Not coming home till I’ve found you a Scottie hottie xxx
It was only three days since they’d had goodbye drinks but it could have been a lifetime ago.
Only one other friendship had come close to the one she shared with Sam, the one with Fiona and Jamie, the children of her mother’s childhood friend, Morag, who ran the post office in Kinloch. Fiona was the same age as her, Jamie two years younger, and during the summer she had spent with Willie, the three of them had slotted together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle.
It had been nearly twenty years since she had seen them but the memories were as fresh as yesterday. Would they remember her? Even though her mum still kept in touch with her old friend, it was very sporadic, and Zoe hadn’t wanted Morag to know her plans to move to the cabin. The last thing she wanted was her checking it out before Zoe’s arrival and informing her mum it was uninhabitable. She put her phone back in her bag, paid for her food and drove back to Kinloch to find her.
Kinloch was what Willie called ‘a one-horse town’. A village built around the castle with one main street running through it. Small shops lined each side for less than a hundred yards, including a butcher, an ironmonger, uninspiring takeaways, generic charity shops, a bookies and the post office. Zoe parked ‘The Beast’, as she’d named it, and stood at one end of the high street; memories swirling around her like snowflakes before settling on the tarmac to melt away.
Everything was so small, so changed. She paused at the post office door, suddenly shy and nervous. Morag had always been so warm and loving, easing the pain of being far from home. But what if she didn’t recognise her? What if she wasn’t as pleased to see her as Zoe had hoped? She hadn’t been back since that summer, hadn’t written. She was only a child but should she have done more than a signature on the bottom of an occasional Christmas card from her parents?
The little bell above the door tinkled as she opened it, setting off sparklers in her tummy. She stood awkwardly as she heard a familiar voice from the back room calling out.
‘Coming!’
There she was: greyer hair, smaller than Zoe remembered, but still, unmistakably Morag. A lump formed in her throat and she opened her mouth but no words came out.
‘As I live and breathe!’ Morag crossed the distance between them and crushed Zoe to her. ‘Zoe, my love! My dear wee girl!’ she cried as Zoe felt the weight of the last weeks and months tumble out in tears.
Morag smelled exactly the same, a combination of corn-silk powder, home cooking and love. She was just as soft and warm; a walking, talking comfort blanket.
‘Fi! Get out here, love, it’s our Zoe!’ Morag yelled over her shoulder.
A woman with dark wavy hair ran out holding a baby, and the three of them held each other tightly; as if they dared to let go, the spell would be broken and Zoe would vanish in a puff of smoke.
A confused wail from the baby broke them apart.
‘Oh, Zoe, you haven’t changed a bit! How long are you here for? Where are you staying? Can you stay here?’ Fiona rattled out, bouncing the baby, whilst Morag herded Zoe to the back of the shop.
‘Come out the back, love, I’ve got a date, apple and walnut cake cooling, I must have known you were coming!’
Morag steered Zoe into the comfiest chair by the fire, grabbed a couple of tissues and gave the box to her. ‘What are we like? Now all we need is Jamie. Let me ring him.’
Morag blew her nose loudly, lifted up a cordless phone and speed-dialled whilst Fiona continued her barrage of questions and statements. ‘Look at you! Do you do Pilates? There’s a class on in the hall but I haven’t been yet, or Zumba? Oh, and this is Liam, say hello Liam! He’s seven months old now. His dad is Duncan, did you ever meet him? I was sweet on him for forever.’
Fiona smiled at private memories, then Zoe was back between two conversations.
‘Jamie! Jamie! Come home, love, you’ll never guess who’s just walked through the door!’
‘So, he works out on the rigs,’ said Fiona. ‘Two weeks on, two weeks off and it’s awful, and I worry and think about what happened to Dad, but the money’s good and so for the two weeks he’s away I come back and stay at Mum’s.’
‘No, not the Queen, you big lump, better! Guess again!’ encouraged Morag in the background.
‘So, what are you doing back? I’m so sorry about Willie,’ said Fiona, her forehead creasing. ‘Are your mum and dad okay? Are they here with you?’
‘No, no and no! It’s our Zoe!’ Morag proclaimed. ‘Yes! Zoe! Come back now and see her!’
‘You’re so gorgeous, and I’m a frump, covered in food and baby sick,’ Fiona moaned. ‘Oh, we have to go out! How long are you here for, please stay a few days, it’s been so long. Wasn’t that the best summer ever?’
‘What do you mean you can’t come now? It’s Zoe!’ Morag shouted into the phone. ‘She might be gone again this afternoon. Yes, of course I’ll make her stay. All right, son, love you, bye, bye.’
