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Authors: Daniela Sacerdoti
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estate.’
‘Can I, Dad? Please please PLEASE!’ She started jumping up and down.
‘Are you sure it’s not too much trouble, Eilidh?’
‘Not at all. I’m only working in the mornings right now, at Peggy’s shop. I also keep house for her, help her with the housework, the garden and all that, but I have a lot of time off. Too much, probably,’ I added, looking down. It was my way of telling him I would have loved to spend some time with that joyful, lively girl doing something we both enjoyed. I thought that maybe it would have helped me bleed a little less, breathe a little more.
‘Well, if it’s not a bother, ok.’
‘Next week? Tuesday would be great. On Monday we get the deliveries in.’
‘Perfect. You can collect her from school if you like. I’ll let Mary know. She’s Maisie’s childminder,’ he added, by way of explanation.
I wondered briefly why Maisie’s mum hadn’t been mentioned, but not wanting to pry, simply said, ‘Will do. It’ll be nice to see our old school again. We’ll be a couple of hours but if you’re not home yet, I can take her to Peggy’s house for dinner.’
‘Thanks but I think I’ll be home. I’ll make it an early day. My house is up past the school, up St Colman’s Way, near my dad’s workshop. Well, my workshop. The white cottage with the blue doors. You’ll see the sign on the garden stone wall, it says “McAnena”. Very imaginative, I know.’
I laughed. ‘A flight of fancy! Great. I’ll see you then.’
Maisie was beaming.
‘Say thank you to Eilidh.’
‘Thank you!’ she said, with another few jumps. I was beginning to think she couldn’t speak without jumping or skipping, as if she was on springs. Sheer life force, flowing through her like lymph through a plant.
‘See you next week then,’ said Jamie, holding Maisie’s hand.
‘See you. Bye, Maisie.’
As I was walking home, I thought of her and the way her face lit up when I mentioned horse riding. I felt a strange, un familiar warmth fill my belly, a tenderness I didn’t know any more. It was the nearest thing to joy I had felt for a long time.
Again, I wondered where Maisie’s mum was, if she was living in the village, how often she saw her daughter. I thought she was so lucky, so lucky, and somehow, I was absolutely sure that she didn’t know she was. I don’t know why.
The last time I’d seen Jamie, I told him I was going. We were both eleven and had just finished primary school. The summer was starting and we thought we had six long weeks ahead of us to play, chat and roam the fields around Glen Avich.
Then, unexpectedly, it was all turned upside down and I was going back to Southport, leaving Flora and Peggy, and my friends, and everything I knew. I had spent six years in Glen Avich and loved it. It was my home.
My parents were getting back together. My dad had come up to Scotland every single holiday – every Christmas, every summer– to spend time with us. Every single time he and my mum had fought like cat and dog. But he came anyway and she’d let him stay. My dad is not a bad person, he never mistreated my mum, let alone us – it’s just that they don’t get on, that’s all. They still don’t, after forty years of marriage and a six-year-long separation.
I was distraught, unlike Katrina, who had never taken to Glen Avich and was dying to go back to the city.
When I told Jamie, he didn’t say anything. He said he had to go, he was meeting his friend John, they were going fishing. He avoided me for the next two weeks. The day before we were due to leave, I saw him standing across the road with his hands in his pockets. I wanted to go to him but my mum needed help with the packing. I waved from the window and he waved back.
That was the last I had seen of him, before today. I wondered what memory of me he has had all this time, if any.
My memory of Jamie was that he was talented, quiet, stubborn, kind and single-minded in everything he did. That was the wee
‘Can I, Dad? Please please PLEASE!’ She started jumping up and down.
‘Are you sure it’s not too much trouble, Eilidh?’
‘Not at all. I’m only working in the mornings right now, at Peggy’s shop. I also keep house for her, help her with the housework, the garden and all that, but I have a lot of time off. Too much, probably,’ I added, looking down. It was my way of telling him I would have loved to spend some time with that joyful, lively girl doing something we both enjoyed. I thought that maybe it would have helped me bleed a little less, breathe a little more.
‘Well, if it’s not a bother, ok.’
‘Next week? Tuesday would be great. On Monday we get the deliveries in.’
‘Perfect. You can collect her from school if you like. I’ll let Mary know. She’s Maisie’s childminder,’ he added, by way of explanation.
I wondered briefly why Maisie’s mum hadn’t been mentioned, but not wanting to pry, simply said, ‘Will do. It’ll be nice to see our old school again. We’ll be a couple of hours but if you’re not home yet, I can take her to Peggy’s house for dinner.’
‘Thanks but I think I’ll be home. I’ll make it an early day. My house is up past the school, up St Colman’s Way, near my dad’s workshop. Well, my workshop. The white cottage with the blue doors. You’ll see the sign on the garden stone wall, it says “McAnena”. Very imaginative, I know.’
I laughed. ‘A flight of fancy! Great. I’ll see you then.’
Maisie was beaming.
‘Say thank you to Eilidh.’
‘Thank you!’ she said, with another few jumps. I was beginning to think she couldn’t speak without jumping or skipping, as if she was on springs. Sheer life force, flowing through her like lymph through a plant.
‘See you next week then,’ said Jamie, holding Maisie’s hand.
‘See you. Bye, Maisie.’
As I was walking home, I thought of her and the way her face lit up when I mentioned horse riding. I felt a strange, un familiar warmth fill my belly, a tenderness I didn’t know any more. It was the nearest thing to joy I had felt for a long time.
Again, I wondered where Maisie’s mum was, if she was living in the village, how often she saw her daughter. I thought she was so lucky, so lucky, and somehow, I was absolutely sure that she didn’t know she was. I don’t know why.
The last time I’d seen Jamie, I told him I was going. We were both eleven and had just finished primary school. The summer was starting and we thought we had six long weeks ahead of us to play, chat and roam the fields around Glen Avich.
Then, unexpectedly, it was all turned upside down and I was going back to Southport, leaving Flora and Peggy, and my friends, and everything I knew. I had spent six years in Glen Avich and loved it. It was my home.
My parents were getting back together. My dad had come up to Scotland every single holiday – every Christmas, every summer– to spend time with us. Every single time he and my mum had fought like cat and dog. But he came anyway and she’d let him stay. My dad is not a bad person, he never mistreated my mum, let alone us – it’s just that they don’t get on, that’s all. They still don’t, after forty years of marriage and a six-year-long separation.
I was distraught, unlike Katrina, who had never taken to Glen Avich and was dying to go back to the city.
When I told Jamie, he didn’t say anything. He said he had to go, he was meeting his friend John, they were going fishing. He avoided me for the next two weeks. The day before we were due to leave, I saw him standing across the road with his hands in his pockets. I wanted to go to him but my mum needed help with the packing. I waved from the window and he waved back.
That was the last I had seen of him, before today. I wondered what memory of me he has had all this time, if any.
My memory of Jamie was that he was talented, quiet, stubborn, kind and single-minded in everything he did. That was the wee
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