Cally nodded as she picked up her mug from the table and little dust motes danced in the air as Morag started to fuss with a plant. She didn’t need to gallivant all over the show, nor did she want to. Shedidwant to throw herself into finding her own little flat and accepting the promotion at work. Yes, that was what she wanted. Her heart was set on cultivating her own little corner of Lovely. That was an adventure in itself. Too easy. What she didn’t know was that in her little corner, there were still a few more surprises for our Cally to come.
19
It was the next day. Cally and Logan had spent the whole day out in the countryside and had clocked up many thousands of steps. They’d discussed everything and anything including moving in together properly with Logan being keen and Cally talking about buying a flat and the ins and outs of doing that. As they’d stomped along in nature taking in the beauty of the estate, they’d put the world to rights.
After the long outdoors day, Cally had fancied nothing other than tucking up on the sofa in the cottage under one of the tartan blankets, popping a film on Netflix, sloshing a measure or three of gin into hot blackcurrant, and dozing her way to bedtime. Unfortunately, Logan and Alastair had other ideas, and a plan was in place for the family to stroll down to the town pub for dinner and a few drinks. At least it was casual, and Cally didn’t have to dress up. After being outside all day, including a long walk through the forest, faffing around with fancy clothes, and getting ready was the last thing she wanted to do. On coming in from the walk, she had peeled off her jumper and welly boots and headed straight up to run a long, deep bath. About an hour later, she’d emerged, pulled on jeans and one of her ruffle top shirts, popped Logan’s cashmere jumper over the top, and, asthey’d headed out the door, she’d shrugged on her Lovely coat. Putting her hands in her pockets, she nodded; she was happiest in easy clothes and not being dressed up to the nines. She couldn’t be doing with that every day of the week.
They stopped at the main house to meet everyone and then set off in the direction of the town. Cally walked along next to Logan and alongside Cecilia and Reg and as they made their way through the woods Cally felt the steps of the day like lead in her legs. After emerging on a lane and then taking another country path over some fields, they reached the little local town. Cally peered in shop windows as they walked along the pavement and ambled along the main street.
'It's a bit nippy out for this time of year, isn't it? Once that sun goes down, you know about it.' Cecilia remarked, her breath visible in the cool air. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s that you never can tell what the weather is going to be like up here.’
'It is, but it's a fine evening for a walk to the pub,' Reg replied.
Cally nodded as they walked past the shop fronts lining the street. Little lights glowed in windows, a shop with beautiful handmade knitted jumpers and a large bay window was fogged up from the warmth inside and Scottish flags fluttered in the breeze. A chalkboard sign outside a little coffee shop advertised 'Homemade Scottish Tablet' and 'Freshly Baked Scones' and a few doors down, the deep blue sign of a Bank of Scotland branch stood out against the smaller shopfronts. Cally stopped and peered up at the building’s grey stone exterior and large arched windows.
'That building's been there since the 1800s,' Reg chimed in. 'Used to be the only bank for miles around. Still is, for some services.'
Strolling casually further along, Cally loved the quaint little town. She stopped and looked in the window of an outdoor clothing shop showcasing a plethora of things to brace forwhen exposed to the Scottish elements: waterproof jackets hung alongside hiking boots, rain coats and cosy-looking fleeces. A vintage timber mannequin dressed in full hiking attire, complete with a backpack and walking poles, stood sentinel in the corner of the window. Cally cupped her hands over her eyes and peered in further. Cecilia stood beside her and followed her gaze.
'MacGregor's,' Cecilia said. 'They've been kitting out hikers and hunters for decades. I think the boot room at the house is almost like a secondary shop of theirs and let me tell you, you need it if you come here when it snows.'
Next door to the outfitters, a tartan shop with a stunning window display took Cally’s breath away. The bay window and shop behind it reminded her of the coat shop in Lovely, with its old-fashioned display units, bolt upon bolt of tartan fabric, and a large cutting table dominating the centre of the room. In the far corner, a man in a white shirt and waistcoat was carefully measuring out lengths of fabric.
'That shop has been here for as long as I can remember,' Cecilia remarked. 'They can tell you the history of every tartan in the place. Fascinating, really, when you think about it.'
They passed by a traditional butcher's shop with strings of sausages hanging in the window, a small art gallery showcasing works by local painters, and a cosy-looking bookshop with stacks of novels and local history books visible through its quaint bow window.
'It's all so charming and cosy.’
Logan squeezed her hand. 'Hmm, I guess it is. I’ve never really thought about it.'
‘It reminds me of Lovely.’
‘I suppose it’s very similar, yes.’
Getting to a small green, Cally was beginning to wonder where the pub was. Her stomach very much needed to find it. Reg had other ideas as he stopped at an ancient stone warmemorial and peered upwards. On its weathered surface, a way too long list of names of local soldiers lost in conflicts was listed on plaques lined up from top to bottom.
Logan shook his head. 'It’s unbelievable really. Gosh, some of these were so young. The sacrifices made by these small communities all that time ago. Terrible.'
Reg shook his head and whooshed in air through his teeth. ‘Imagine that.’ He pointed at a list of five names all with the same surname. ‘A whole family of young lads gone in one fell swoop.’
‘Awful.’
As they neared the second section of the high street, the sound of conversation and clinking glasses grew louder from The Stag and Thistle pub on the corner. Cally was more than glad to see its whitewashed walls, dark slate roof, hanging baskets bursting with flowers and a chalkboard detailing the menu nudged outside. She couldn’t wait to sit down. ‘I didn't realise how hungry I was. My legs feel like I have cement in them.’
Cecilia chuckled. 'All that fresh air and walking will do that to you.’
Cally smiled as she stepped into the old Scottish pub and nodded at what greeted her; low dark beamed ceilings, lovely old worn timber floors, walls adorned with a mix of local memorabilia and hunting trophies and the smell of wood smoke, ale, and heather in the air.
A massive stone fireplace sat right in the middle of the pub and little clusters of tables here and there were chock full of people. Conversations in thick Scottish accents swirled around her, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of glasses. Cosy, comfortable and somehow just right.
Cecilia shrugged off her cardigan as they walked across the pub. 'Ah, there they are.’ She gestured towards a large tablein the corner where Alastair, Octavia, and several other Henry-Hicks clan members were already seated. Cally followed Cecilia and Logan, took her coat and bag off and as they got to the table, she sat down on a bench seat with a long leather cushion between Logan and Octavia. Octavia kissed her on the cheek and smiled.
‘What did you get up to today?’
Cally beamed. 'Walking. Loving it. It's beautiful up in the forest. Scotland is so pretty.’
'Oh, I know. Isn't it just divine?' Octavia gushed. 'Alastair and I are thinking of including it in our travel plans. A sort of farewell tour of the British Isles before we jet off to more exotic places, you know? We were thinking of getting a small plane out to the islands before we head south and then get on our way to India. Sometimes the heat is a bit much in the tropics if you know what I mean?'
