He nodded at her plate of food. ‘Nice, eh?’
She nodded in agreement, chewing on a tender piece of succulent beef.
He smiled as if proud to be proved right, ‘Told you it was good.’
‘You did,’ she mumbled, still with a mouthful. He was a real master at stating the bloody obvious. She was now trying to decide which was worse: sitting alone to dine or having her mercurial audience of one. It was a tough one.
‘Anyway, have you got that workshop sorted yet?’ he enquired.
‘How did you know about that?’ she asked, trying to remember if she had ever mentioned that the house had a workshop.
‘The guy who lived there before, James McLaughlan, I did a bit of work for him a few years back. A bit of rewiring and stuff. He moved up north to be wi’ his family. Nice guy. He used to make wooden toys for the hospital and the hospice in Oban,’ he informed her.
‘Oh right, that’s nice.’ She thought that James must have been quite a man to do such thoughtful, selfless things.
‘Aye, he was a top bloke. Anyways, what are you going to do with the space?’
He was incredibly nosey, she decided.
‘I make things. It’ll be my workshop, if I stay.’ She put another forkful of the delectable pie into her mouth.
Her clipped answers weren’t having the desired effect and he continued, ‘Oh right, what do you make then?’
‘I make little signs with phrases on, picture frames, chalkboards and a few other bits and pieces.’ She decided there was no time like the present to put forward her proposal. ‘Funny you should mention the workshop actually.’ She swallowed the food and took a gulp of her Jack and cola.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Aye? Why’s that?’
‘Well you mentioned earlier that you were fixing Colin’s tap and I wondered if you could come and have a look at the sink in the workshop?’ She hesitated. ‘If you have the time, obviously, no pressure.’
‘Oh right. Aye, I could come and have a wee look. What seems to be wrong wi’ it?’
‘It won’t budge.’
Greg looked thoughtful, scrunching his eyes up as if trying to do a mental calculation.
She placed her cutlery down. ‘If you can, I thought maybeIcould make you that chalkboard you mentioned when I saw you earlier. You know by way of payment and to save you a job.’
Greg smiled and held out his hand towards her. ‘Got yourself a deal, Mallory.’ They shook on it. ‘I’ll come around tomorrow and have a wee look if you like?’
‘Great.’ That was easier than she had expected. She smiled, relieved and thinking maybe he wasn’t as grumpy as she had previously thought.
‘I’ll bring you a dessert menu,’ he said, whisking away her plate before she’d really had time to decide if she’d finished or not. She was too full to even consider a dessert and so she decided to make a quick exit before he could return. She felt a little guilty, but figured he would get over it.
She stood outside briefly to gaze up at the stars. It was a very clear night and there was little uplight so she could make out millions of tiny white dots of light and a few constellations that she learned about from her dad on their ‘Munro bagging’ camping trips; a thing that sounded more like the pastime of highwayman instead of the ticking off of mountains climbed.
This sky took her back to one of the times her dad had taken her out onto the Yorkshire moors when she was around eight years old. They had packed a flask of hot chocolate and Mum had given them a Tupperware box of home-made flapjack. They packed her dad’s telescope and set out at ten o’clock on a chilly October night. They had pulled up in the middle of a picnic area car park near Sutton Bank and gazed up at the stars from the boot of the old car. She had snuggled up to her dad with a little mug of the sweet chocolaty drink as he had pointed out Orion and The Plough; Mars and Venus. They had looked at the clear image of the face on the moon and had named him Boris, just because it was funny and suited his expression. Her dad was such a kind and gentle man; and a wonderful father.
Smiling at the memory, she walked towards the Sealladh-mara cottage. The fire was welcoming when she opened the front door and so was Ruby. It was almost ten and she felt exhausted after her busy day. She couldn’t be bothered to watch TV or read so she let Ruby into the back garden and on her return into the house gave her a little cuddle.
‘Come on Rubes. Time for bed.’ The two companions went up to Mallory’s room where she undressed, brushed her teeth in the little en-suite and pulled on her snuggly pyjamas. She climbed into bed and switched off her lamp. Ruby made her way to her favourite place; under the covers beside Mallory’s feet. Mallory smiled when she thought back to the first time Sam had stayed over…
*
January 2014
‘Well, I don’t know about you my little love muffin, but I’m bushed.’ Sam stretched once the film they had been watching had finished. The movie,The Hangover, had been both hilarious and cringe-worthy.
‘Yup, me too.’ Mallory got up from the beat-up old sofa and took the empty popcorn package and wine glasses into the kitchen. ‘You go on up, I’m just going to wash these few dishes whilst you do your teeth.’
