CHAPTER 11 The Split

  

The following weekend, Mary wrote a long letter to Jock which was eventually returned to her, unopened.

Midway through January, she received a telephone call from Laura Scott in Glasgow asking her to be Matron of Honour at her wedding at the end of that month. It was to be a quiet and simple affair at the Registry Office.

On the requested date, Mary flew up to Glasgow and stayed the night at Laura's flat where they had a good heart to heart talk with each other. Laura revealed that she was pregnant and that the baby was due in late June but the real haste for the wedding, and for it being a simple affair, was that they had bought a small caravan site shop and filling station at a place called Memus near Forfar in Angus. Hence the small wedding to save costs and, after the ceremony, they were driving straight to their new home. Mary was delighted for them and, after speaking about her fall out with Jock, she felt so much better. She was even more delighted and honoured when Laura asked her to be godmother to the unborn baby.

After the morning's wedding ceremony at the Registry Office, the wedding party had a meal at a local hotel, together with a few friends and relatives. When the bride and groom left for their new home near Forfar, Mary hailed a taxi to Glasgow Airport and was back in her flat by early evening.

Each evening, she looked hopefully to see if there was any mail from Canada but was always disappointed. She continued with her fitness programme and felt the benefit of it. Her application to her work at the office gained her admiration from her colleagues.

At Easter that year, she went on a skiing holiday to the French Alps with three girls from the office. They flirted with other men on the slopes, and at mealtimes, but Mary kept her resolve to avoid any alcohol or the company of males.

It was at the end of June that she received a telephone call from Laura to say that both she and her baby daughter were doing well and that the christening was to be in three weeks’ time and could Mary come for a long weekend to help out on the big day. Mary had been anticipating the event for weeks and was really looking forward to it.

When that weekend came, Mary was really excited about the whole concept of it. She flew to Glasgow airport and hired a car to drive to Angus. At the car hire firm, she was told that because Campbell Holdings were such good customers, she was being upgraded to a large estate car instead of the basic model she had requested, at no extra cost. Mary was delighted. When she drove to Perth, she stopped outside Mothercare and had a fantastic time in the shop, spending more than she had intended.

Driving through Perthshire and Angus, Mary was surprised to see all the rolling fields of crops and grazing cattle against the backdrop of the Grampian Mountains. Eventually she arrived at Memus campsite and was given a very warm welcome by Laura and Barry. The object of her visit was lying in her pram, smiling at her, which really tugged at her heartstrings.

Accommodation was a residential caravan which she shared with Laura's uncle, aunt and seventeen-year-old niece, who had just passed her Higher exams and was working for Laura and Barry over the summer months. Mary was allocated her own compact bedroom. From the caravan she could see just how busy the shop and filling station were. The village consisted of just a church, a cluster of houses, the caravan site and a hotel called The Drovers Inn. Mary had been travelling for most of the day, so she decided to go for a long run along the country road before they all gathered for the evening meal.

That evening, Laura and Mary sat on a bench outside the shop and told each other about everything that had taken place. Mary spoke of what had been happening regarding Jock and how she missed him. Laura told of all the local gossip and how things had been very tough at the beginning but were falling into place now. They had bought a minibus and were doing the school runs and private hire. It was seven days a week, from dawn till dusk, with the shop, caravans and the filling station but they were enjoying it.

Laura also explained that after the church service, everyone would go over to the hotel where a marquee was to be erected for a buffet meal. She had been given venison and salmon which the hotel would cook as well as supplying salad and sundries. Laura was to supply a host of sandwiches and a keg of real ale for her guests. Soft drinks and spirits would be purchased at the bar.

The minibus was on hire the next morning, so Laura asked if Mary would drive her to the baker’s in Forfar to fetch the bread.

Next morning at breakfast, Laura's niece, Tina, asked Mary about Jock as everyone presumed that they were still an item. Mary managed to avoid answering directly and told her instead about their holiday in Majorca which had resulted in the big contract to Kinlochleven and Fort William smelters.

On the drive to Forfar, Laura told Mary that she had never been happier and that she and Barry were getting on well with the locals who had been really friendly. They had given them a lot of support and they were both glad that they had made the move from Glasgow. They had decided on a name for the new baby but were keeping it a secret until the church service the next day.

Going into the baker’s in Forfar, there was a mouth-watering smell coming from the bakehouse. After collecting the bread Mary noticed Laura putting bags of what appeared to be semi-circular pies and tarts in her bag.

“What's all this?,” Mary asked.

“This, my good friend, is our lunch today. A famous Forfar bridie straight out of the oven, followed by a choice of apple or rhubarb tarts.”

On the return journey, the car was filled with the aroma of the hot bridies and fresh bread which made them both feel quite peckish. As Laura had promised, the lunch of bridies and apple pie was beyond Mary's expectations and she told Laura that she would love to take some back to London but she was leaving early on Tuesday morning. Laura telephoned the baker’s and told Mary that she would be able to pick up her order at seven o’clock on Tuesday morning.

After lunch, Laura, her aunt, Tina and Mary made up sandwiches for the buffet, enough to feed an army Mary thought. Before the evening meal, Mary went for a long run up Glen Moy and enjoyed the solitude and the beauty of the countryside. Later that evening, Mary, Laura and Tina sat outside in the warm sunshine enjoying each other's company and conversation.

On Sunday morning, the day of the christening, after a short, fast run before breakfast, Mary put on a pale green suit which she had had tailored for the church ceremony. It showed off her hourglass figure and copper red hair to full advantage.

The small, simple country church was almost full when Laura, Barry, Mary and the baby made their entrance, the locals turning out to give their support to the proud parents. When the minister announced at the baptism that the baby was to be named Mary Stuart Scott, Mary couldn’t keep the tears at bay. Her look of gratitude to Barry and Laura was returned with broad smiles.

With the church service over, the entire congregation went straight over the road to The Drovers Inn, where a huge marquee had been erected. Glasses were raised to the wellbeing of Mary Stuart Scott, and Barry gave a short speech welcoming everyone and thanking them for their support and friendship over the previous six months since they had arrived in Memus from Glasgow.

 An elderly gentleman, a gamekeeper by the way he was dressed, stood up and gave thanks to Barry and Laura for their contribution to the community and jokingly told them to get a move on and produce a son so that everyone could have another good Sunday festivity like this one. This remark was greeted with a tremendous round of applause and laughter and caused Laura to blush quite profusely.

Everyone was forming an orderly queue at the buffet when Mary saw a man in military dress, wearing a Black Watch kilt and a ribbon indicating that he had done a tour in Northern Ireland. She went over to him and asked, “When were you in Ireland and can I offer to buy you a drink?”

The man replied, “It's no very often a good-looking woman asks me if I want a drink and to prove I'm not dreaming, I'll accept your kind offer and take a Black Bull whisky.”

Mary smiled and returned with a large glass of the requested whisky.

“You seem to be well informed about military matters,” he said.

“Well, my boyfriend is in the Scots Guards,” Mary replied.

“These toy soldiers,” mocked the soldier, “Even in Northern Ireland, rumour has it that they captured two high ranking IRA members by knocking them out with tins of compo rations. Frankly, I don't believe that.”

Mary decided to change the subject and by way of introduction she said, “I'm Mary Stuart, a friend of Laura's and godmother to the baby girl. You may have noticed me at the church service?”

“Aye, I saw you, as did every man in the congregation. Even my old father, that's him that gave the speech, remarked that you were one of the bonniest lassies that ever came through the door of the Kirk. I am George Milne, private in the Black Watch, going back next week to do another tour in Northern Ireland. It was me who donated the two salmon for the buffet, which I caught on Friday night in the South Esk, just below the Gella Bridge.” Mary blushed a little at his honest appraisal of her presence and thanked him for his donation.

“Not at all,” continued the soldier, “It is my way of thanking Barry. After the last pheasant shoot of the season and not long after he and Laura came here, my father came out of the Drovers Inn, worse the wear for drink. In fact, he was well on the way to being drunk. He drove to the filling station just as Barry was closing for the night, got his Land Rover full of fuel and bought cigarettes, then discovered he had no money. Barry put him in the passenger seat and drove him home. On the way, they passed a police patrol car waiting at the crossroads. If it had not been for Barry that night, my father would have lost his job and his licence. Hence the venison on the buffet menu.”

Mary loved to hear the soldier talk in his rich Angus dialect.

“Cheers anyway,” continued the soldier,” as he took a generous sip of the whisky. I notice you are only drinking fruit juice.”

“I am hoping to run in the London Marathon next spring,” answered Mary, “and I used to go running with my boyfriend when he joined the Guards Independent Parachute Company.”

“Now they are real tough cookies,” the soldier interrupted. “We did a joint exercise with them just before Christmas. Incidentally, that man coming in the hotel entrance with his mother is an officer in the Scots Guards. He is Lord Lyell of Kinnordy and he stops in here for lunch every Sunday after being at the church in Forfar. He and I sat at the same desk at the primary school.”

“Hello George,” greeted the Laird of Kinnordy. “On leave again? I have told you many times, you should have found yourself a good regiment.”

Mary laughed at the usual army banter and continued to laugh when the laird continued, “So you’ve got a girlfriend at last I see.”

“Don't jump to conclusions Charlie, I only met the young lady a few minutes ago,” exclaimed the soldier.

Mary was perplexed by the lack of rank shown by the two men and the ease in which they were in each other's company. Before Mary could be introduced Lord Lyell announced, “I've met you before young lady.” Then a moment's silence. “Of course, St Andrew's Night, Windsor. Lance Sergeant Jock Stewart's girlfriend. How are you?” and he shook Mary's hand. “What brings you to this part of the world?”

Mary explained her friendship with Laura and Barry. “I believe Sergeant Stewart is seconded to the Winter Warfare School in Canada. How is he getting along?”

“Fine,” replied Mary, hoping that the topic of conversation would change, as even here his name was being bandied about.

Lord Lyell turned to George and continued, “They tell me your regiment did a good job in Northern Ireland just before Christmas.”

“Indeed,” replied George. “We found a large arms store, money, drugs and sheets of information and took out a whole cell of IRA members. But, if the truth be known, the success of the operation was due to some members of the Guards Parachute Company who flew over from England, dropped by parachute onto that lonely farm in the back of beyond, tranquillised the guard dogs, captured the gang and had them hooded and handcuffed by the time we got there. All we did was cancel out the two outposts and search the buildings with the police. The gang were held in captivity on the cold floor of the dairy but the dogs were taken into the barn, covered with a bed of straw and given bowls of water and bowls of turkey, which the gang had been going to have. Some of the paratroopers were even finishing off the rest of the dinner when we arrived but we got the credit for the raid.”

Mary interrupted him saying, “You never mentioned the Bushmills whiskey or the cigarettes and whilst you are here, ask the Guard's Officer about the Scots Guards capturing the IRA with cans of compo rations.”

“How do you know about that?” was the questioned response.

Mary smiled, said nothing but tapped her nose with her forefinger. With a little wave, she left the two astonished men's company to join Laura, Barry and the baby for photographs.

As they were tidying up after most of the guests had left, the soldier came over to say goodbye to Barry and Laura and thank them for their hospitality. Turning to Mary, he said in a rather subdued voice, “I take back what I said about the Scots Guards and, if I ever meet your boyfriend, I would like to shake his hand. Actually, I think it was him who was making sure that the dogs were made comfortable in that farmhouse in Ireland. Thanks again for the drink.”

“Have a safe tour and come back all in one piece,” countered Mary, as the soldier made his way out of the marquee.

“What was all that about?” questioned Laura. “Just some old-fashioned army banter,” replied Mary.

Mary was enamoured by her goddaughter and at every opportunity she would look to check that she was all right, always rewarded with a big smile which gave her such delight.

That evening she went for a long run up Glen Clova, doing the loop from the Gella Bridge to the hotel and down the other side of the River Esk. On the run she thought over the day's events and how Jock Stewart always seemed to come into the conversation. In her heart she wished that he was here with her.

Next morning, she was helping Tina in the shop and filling station. Mary smiled at the way Tina flirted with all the young men who came into the shop. Before lunch, Laura came to Mary to inform her that they were going off together with the baby for an unusual meal that she would enjoy and never forget.

They drove to Arbroath harbour, parked the car and bought two freshly cooked Arbroath smokies. They sat on a bench to eat them out of the brown wrapping paper, washing them down with a bottle of water. For the first time in a long time, Mary felt relaxed. Good company, sea air, warm sunshine and a baby who smiled at her every time she looked into the carry cot. She was happy for Laura and, if truth be told, perhaps a little envious.

They spent the next couple of hours walking along the esplanade talking about old times, office gossip, their problems and their ambitions. During the drive back to Memus, the conversation continued in the same theme with both happy in each other's company.

After the evening meal Mary, Tina, Laura, Barry and aunt and uncle sat at the picnic table enjoying the evening sunset and soft drinks.

Up early next day, Mary said her goodbyes and drove to Forfar to pick up the large bridies which were straight out of the oven. The smell in the car was mouth-watering, indeed she was sorely tempted to stop the vehicle and devour one.

Having returned the vehicle to the car rental at Glasgow airport, Mary made her way to the check in. A customs officer and police officer were checking baggage with the help of a spaniel which moved about the line waiting at the desk, smelling all the suitcases. When it got to Mary, it got excited and refused to budge from her case. The police and customs officer invited Mary to come to the security office and she was escorted along the airport's concourse as though she was being arrested. Mary felt humiliated and embarrassed. In the office, she opened her suitcase to reveal four large Forfar bridies. It was the turn of the officers to be apologetic and they laughed to cover their embarrassment. Mary was not amused but, in retrospect, it was humorous.

To compensate for missing her flight, she was given the hospitality of the first-class lounge and first-class travel to Heathrow on the next available flight. Arriving at her flat in the early afternoon, she handed the bridies over to the concierges who thanked her and said they were now looking forward to their next meal.

As the weeks passed, Mary gave up hope of ever getting a letter from Jock but, try as she could, she couldn't get him out of her thoughts.

After a pleasant, organised cycling holiday in France, which she enjoyed immensely, meeting new people and seeing the various sights, Mary resolved that she would spend her holidays on new adventures, work hard and keep herself in top physical condition.

 

Later in the year, as the sole representative for the UK, she went to the AGM of Campbell Holdings. As usual she went on a shopping spree with Beth Campbell and was given a very detailed account of what took place to study on the return flight to London. Again, she impressed her colleagues when she reported back to them what had happened. It was a similar scenario when she flew up to Glasgow. She even managed a quick overnight stop at Memus to see Laura, Barry and the baby, for whom she always brought some lovely clothes. After all, she argued with herself, she is my godchild.

That festive season she went to the Alps, skiing with three girls from the office and enjoyed the sport, the good company and the après ski. She still kept her vow to avoid alcohol or get involved in any romance.

In the spring, along with several of the office staff, she took part in the London Marathon for which she had been training hard. At the halfway stage, some of the others were in distress, not having done the amount of training needed, so Mary set off on her own. Fail to prepare, be prepared to fail, Jock Stewart used to say as he pushed himself to his utmost. Damn him thought Mary, he always intrudes into my thoughts.

She overtook lots of runners and was beginning to enjoy herself, with the cheering from the crowds, the atmosphere and the feeling of giving something to a good cause as all the runners in her class of fitness were running for charities. Coming up for the final mile, her legs started to feel numb and waves of tiredness and sickness came over her. She started to lose her running style. Is this the dreaded wall I've encountered she thought. Then the voice of Jock Stewart, when they had been running in Hyde Park, came to her, ‘It's all in the mind, Mary. Breathe deeply and force yourself to go on. Fight it and think of something pleasant to take your mind off the pain.’ Mary thought about their first Christmas together and how they'd laughed and talked. She could even remember their conversation and how her need for Jock's embrace was like an ache that didn't go away. Before she knew it, she was over the finishing line, being given a shirt, medal and the foil thermal sheet to keep her warm.

Next day at the office, as they all compared their stories, injuries and times, it appeared that Mary had beaten all the men from the office who had taken part.