At that moment, a movement caught her peripheral vision and she glanced up at the cordon around the field. She gasped and her heart leapt. There, on the rope before her, sat a little red-breasted robin, a halo of light surrounded him where the summer sun shone down. He seemed to watch her for a split second before fluffing out his chest, fluttering his wings and taking off towards the trees as Juliette covered her mouth with her hand and let more tears freely trickle down her cheeks.
21
The games continued and the atmosphere at the gala buzzed with excitement. After seeing the robin, Juliette had resolved to have a conversation with Reid. Perhaps she could iron out the creases of their friendship? She could only try. She decided she would make an effort to visit him, or perhaps phone if nerves got the better of her.
Expecting some kind of wooden mallet to be launched by each of the burly men, Juliette was shocked to discover that the ‘hammer’ in the hammer throw was, in fact, a kind of metal ball attached to a strip of steel ribbon. It was flung rather like a discus, in that the thrower spun in circles to gather momentum before letting go of the perilous object, which then flew at a surprising velocity through the air and landed with a dull thump on the grass.
Caitlin was like a woman possessed as she whistled for one of the competitors, a rather handsome dark-haired, bearded man with arms almost as thick as the cabers being tossed earlier in the day. Juliette found her reaction hilarious and almost expected her eyes to pop out of her head and her tongue to hit the floor.
‘You’ve got to admit, Jules, there’s nothing sexier than a man in a kilt, except for ahuge,muscular,beardedman in a kilt!’
After admiring the athletic prowess of these men, Juliette was coming around to the idea.
* * *
With the day’s main events over and the prizes awarded, Juliette and Caitlin made their way, arm in arm, back to the main tent for the evening’s entertainment. Already a dab hand at ceilidh dancing – Juliette guffawed at this description of herself by Caitlin – it took no time to get her on the dance floor as The Toilichte Hens took to the stage, and Kenneth did the honours of calling the steps.
She wasn’t sure who suggested that she tried the Skye single malt, but Juliette knew she was going to regret agreeing to it; the realisation occurring right about the time she was being swung around, in time with the music, by various adept partners. The earthy liquid warmed its way to her stomach, creating a false sense of contentment that she knew would feel rather different come morning. Wine and whisky? Possibly not a wise decision, but she couldn’t help being carried along on the wonderful, positive vibe of the day. Her very first Highland games had been an incredible experience that left Juliette on a high, and not only from the alcohol. It felt good to laugh again.
Once the Toilichte Hens had finished their set to a raucous applause, it was the turn of the DJ, none other than bitchy Leanna’s oblivious husband, Donny.
‘Evening all! So, I was asked to bring my karaoke stuff th’night instead of a straight-up disco, so come and get your name down if you want to sing some’hin’!’ he announced.
‘Jules! Are you going to sing?’ Grace asked as she flopped down beside her mother.
‘Oh yes! You should definitely get up and sing,’ Evin said. ‘I bet you’re a brilliant singer, don’t you, Grace?’ His friend nodded eagerly.
She waved her hand. ‘Oh, good grief, no chance!’ She laughed at the thought. ‘And anyway, why aren’t you kids in bed?’
Grace grinned. ‘Mum lets me stay up until the end when it’s the games.’
‘And if she’s allowed then I don’t see why I’m not. Uncle Kendric says he’ll come and get me when it’s time to go. You have to sing before that.’ Evin tried his best to encourage her.
Juliette shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. I hate karaoke. In fact, I think that might be my cue to leave,’ she informed Caitlin and Morag as the first ‘singer’ took to the stage.
‘Oh, come on, Jules, you can’t leave now, it’s just getting good!’ Morag laughed.
Caitlin raised her glass. ‘I agree. It’ll be a laugh. Just another thirty minutes and, if you’rereallyhating it, we can head home.’
Feeling everyone’s gaze fixed on her, Juliette rolled her eyes and reluctantly replied, ‘Thirty minutes and that’s it! And don’t think for asecondthat I’m getting up there.’
Grace and Evin went off to dance and lark around in front of the stage. Archie delivered a passable rendition of ‘Sweet Caroline’, much to the delight of the audience, who were now verging on worse for wear. And the three women giggled as Caitlin made a joke about throwing her knickers at him.
A variety of songs followed; some fairly tuneful, others downright murdered on stage by their performers. Morag and Juliette tried to convince Caitlin to get up to sing, but their appeals fell on deaf and highly reluctant ears.
‘But you were the one who insisted we stay!’ Juliette whined.
‘Aye, but I want to sit here and enjoy the music, not clear the room with my caterwauling!’
Archie finished his second song, ‘Crackling Rose’, and once the applause had died down, everyone in the marquee began to filter out to make their way home.
‘And a good night was had by all,’ Caitlin slurred.
Evin and Grace returned, along with Kendric, and Caitlin fell silent as she unabashedly made eyes at the man. ‘So, you ladies have had a good day, I take it?’ he asked with a grin.
‘It’s been brilliant,’ Juliette replied, trying her best to sound sober.
‘I’m glad to hear it. Anyway, Jules, I was wondering if I might have a chat with you tomorrow, if you’re free? Just a wee idea I’ve had that I want to run past you.’
