CHAPTER 3 Love Fulfilled

    The meal was over and the ballroom in the hotel was full of the employees and their partners from the Glasgow office of Campbell Holdings. The band were tuning their instruments and Mary, Laura, Barry and all the staff and friends from Mary’s department were sitting at the same table with their drinks.

    As Laura had obviously told her colleagues about Mary's new friend, she was subjected to many questions and comments: “Is he coming to the dance tonight?” “Did he really stand up to Mr Campbell?” “Laura says he scrubs up well.”

    Mary made an excuse and had a quick look in the public bar, surprised to see some of the shinty players still there in their strips and still talking about the game. But no Jock. She had a sinking feeling that Jock wasn't coming.

She was taking orders for the next round of drinks when there was a familiar voice behind her, asking if he could join the company at her table. Mary turned round and there stood Jock dressed in casual slacks, polo shirt and a heavy, hand-knitted fairisle windcheater. She introduced Jock to everyone at the table and could see that both male and female were impressed by his introduction.

They danced several dances together and Mary was surprised that for such a big man, he was light on his feet. When they were dancing the Dashing White Sergeant with Laura, they met up with Mr and Mrs Campbell and Mrs McLean. Doug was wearing his Campbell tartan trews and looked quite resplendent but was sweating profusely by his exertions of the dance. A bit of banter was exchanged between Jock and Doug.

At the end of the dance, a short interval was called to let everyone get their breath back. As the time was just after eleven o’clock, Jock announced that he was leaving and thanked everyone for the evening. Mary felt a pang of disappointment.

“I'll walk you to the car park,” she suggested. As they walked from the ball, the thought crossed her mind that Bob had not bothered to phone her the whole day. Coming to the car park, Mary reflected on what a lovely evening it was. The full moon was reflected on the calm waters of Loch Leven and the warm quiet of the Highland evening was broken by the sounds of enjoyment from the ballroom.

“Is this the old Land Rover that my boss was talking about?” enquired Mary.

“It is,” replied Jock. “It was my father’s and it's almost twenty-five years old. Your car won't last that long. Anyway, it was nice meeting you and thanks for your company.”

He opened the driver’s door, turned and took Mary in his arms and kissed her on the lips in a full passionate embrace. Mary responded with equal passion and thought to herself that she’d never felt like this before and if he hadn’t made a pass at her, she would have made one at him! Like divers coming up for air, they broke apart and Jock said in a quiet voice, “I've been wanting to do that since I first met you.”

Mary's cheeks were flushed with emotion and she could only mutter, “My pleasure.”

Jock gave a big sigh of regret, got into the Land Rover and spoke as he rolled down the side window, “All the best with your career and maybe our paths will cross again. I would really like that.” Then he drove out of the car park with a little wave out of the window.

Mary felt a mix of emotions. Disappointment, passion, regret and longing flooded her as she watched the two rear lights of the Land Rover disappear into the darkness. As she turned and slowly walked back to the hotel, she met Mr and Mrs Campbell in the foyer, about to take the evening air.

“I take it he's gone home,” Beth asked. “If I were you, I wouldn’t let a man like that slip through my fingers. Doug and I think you are suited to one another. We are calling it a day and we’ll see you at seven o’clock sharp for a little run tomorrow morning.”

Mary decided not to return to the ballroom but went straight to her room. Mixed emotions ran through her mind as she settled down to sleep. It must be the pure Highland air that's causing all this tiredness and emotion she decided as sleep overtook her.

Next morning, the sun was rising above the hills of Glencoe and flooding the hotel car park with warm sunshine. At exactly seven o’clock, Mary was joined by Mr and Mrs Campbell and they set off at a steady pace along the forest road at Glenachullish.

Coming up the steep path they slowed to a walking pace and they could hear the excited barking of a dog further up the road. Parked in a layby was an old Land Rover which Mary and Doug recognised as belonging to Jock. The sound of the barking was close and as they came to a vantage point, looking down to the large stream they could see Jock doing sprint training, press-ups, squat jumps and other strenuous exercises while his terrier sat nearby. So engrossed with his training schedule was Jock that he was unaware of the approach of the onlookers.

Sweat was pouring down Jock’s face and his white top was soaked. It was the dog who alerted him that he was being watched. Mary, Doug and Beth were impressed with his application to fitness.

“To what do I owe the honour of this visit?” enquired Jock, in between gulps of air, breathlessness caused by his exertions.

“We hope we’re not intruding,” said Beth, “but why are you here at this time in the morning?”

Mary could only smile and stroked the little terrier, thinking of something to say to Jock. Doug, clearly impressed, offered an apology and insisted that Jock carried on with his training.

“That’s me about finished,” replied Jock, “I come here on a Sunday morning because what I’m doing would constitute breaking the Sabbath and that would be frowned upon in Ballachulish and I’ll be going to the kirk with my mother at eleven o’clock, besides I train better when I’m alone.”

His breathing returning to normal, Jock put on a heavy tracksuit top and wiped his face dry with a towel.

Mary gazed at Jock with admiration and enquired, “What’s the dog called?”

“Darroch.” came the answer, “Translated from the Gaelic it means oak tree. My father got him as a pup when he was felling a big oak tree at Inverary years ago. He’s taken a real liking to you.”

The four of them walked as far as the old Land Rover, talking about the shinty yesterday afternoon and how the Campbells had enjoyed the weekend and they were looking forward to the journey home that afternoon.

“Come on honey,” Beth instructed. “We’ll go on back to the hotel and leave this young couple to say their goodbyes.” With that, the two Americans jogged away.

“He might be the boss of a multi-national company,” Mary explained, “but his wife wears the trousers at home.” Jock just laughed at the remark.

Mary was at a loss as what to say next while Jock was lifting the wee terrier into the vehicle. She was aware that she didn’t want to let another opportunity to meet up again slip through her fingers.

“Are you wanting a lift?” asked Jock, “I pass the hotel on the way home.”

“That would be lovely, thanks,” came the reply.

As Mary got into the vehicle she could smell petrol, wood resin and dog odour all in one. Night and day compared to Bob’s sports car she thought.

As they drove along the forest road very slowly, the terrier snuggled onto Mary’s lap.

“He has taken a fancy to you,” remarked Jock, “Can’t say that I blame him. It’s not often that we meet good looking women after seven o’clock on a Sunday morning on a forest road.”

This remark pleased Mary and it gave her the courage to ask Jock if he fancied a picnic lunch that afternoon, as it looked to be a fine day later. It was arranged that Mary would pick up Jock at Fern Villa, about one o’clock, after he had been to the church with his mother.

When they reached the hotel, Mary climbed out of the Land Rover, waved goodbye and ran up the steps to the hotel foyer, quite excited at the prospect of spending a few hours with her new friend.

At breakfast, Mary was joined by Laura and Barry and a bit of banter ensued about her and Jock. She and Laura then had a meeting with the hotel manager to settle the accounts and hand over gratuities.

At noon she said goodbye to Mr and Mrs Campbell, who again thanked her and Laura for their organisation. Even her immediate boss Mr McLean came and thanked them. Mrs McLean again told Mary to get a hold of that young man and not let him go.

All the guests now gone, Mary made her way to the kitchen to collect the packed lunch that she had ordered. She was impressed with the wine, glasses, basket and food. She looked at her watch, just time for a quick tidy up and I’ll meet Jock at one o’clock she thought, her anticipation for the date bordering on excitement. Strange, mused Mary, I’ve never felt this way before about a date.

At almost one o’clock, Mary parked her car outside Fern Villa. She was impressed by the fine old granite building and the lovely rose garden outside. If the inside is as impressive as the exterior this would be a first-class bed and breakfast, she thought.

As soon as she rang the doorbell, she could hear the wee terrier called Darroch barking to announce her arrival. The door opened and a middle-aged lady with a broad smile and homely appearance held out her hand and said in a pleasant Highland accent, “Welcome to Fern Villa. You must be Mary. They said you were good looking but I did not expect you to be so good looking. Just call me Bunty. Himself is getting changed. I’m afraid the minister was very long-winded with his sermon today.”

The warmth of the welcome put Mary at ease and Darroch, recognising her, made a fuss in his welcome. Mary was ushered into a lovely lounge, which was adorned with photographs and sporting trophies. Before Mary could get a chance to peruse the trophies and photographs, the door opened and Jock came in, full of apologies for not being ready on time.

“Where do you want to go?” enquired Jock.

“Well, you know the area,” replied Mary, “You decide.”

“An ideal spot is the Otter Pool on the River Etive. It’s on your way home so I’ll lead in the Land Rover and you can follow me in your car.”

As she followed Jock’s Land Rover through Glencoe, Mary was impressed with the wild beauty of the glen. When she had driven down it three days ago it had been shrouded in mist with dark rain clouds. What a contrast. Eventually, they turned off down Glen Etive and parked in a lay-by.

An ideal spot thought Mary as they walked to the river’s edge. The warm sun shone through the trees and the river had a stone cliff at the far side with smooth ledges. There were rapids upstream and downstream of the fifty-yard pool, with a small white sandy beach on the nearside. A grass bank made it an ideal spot away from the road and hidden from view by the broom, hazel and alder trees. “I’ll give you top marks for your choice of site,” complemented Mary.

“It’s quite deep at the far side,” replied Jock, “and in the winter it’s a fearsome place when the river is in spate. Now that we agree that the location is perfect can I suggest we have something to eat as I am beginning to feel the pangs of hunger.”

Mary laughed and asked Jock for his help, which was readily given.

“There’s enough here to feed a platoon!” exclaimed Jock when he saw the picnic basket.

While Jock carried the big basket, Mary carried the picnic blanket and they walked to the riverbank in silence. “A wee bit of furniture will make it ideal,” declared Jock and, going to the Land Rover, he returned with an army groundsheet and two big hessian sacks filled with bags.

“Two seats and a table,” Jock announced.

“Tell me about yourself,” enquired Mary.

“Not much to tell really,” answered Jock. “You’ve seen the house I grew up in. My father, who was a woodsman, died of malaria which he picked up when the was in the army with the Black Watch. It used to return every two or three summers but the one five years ago was the final one. My older sister, who was a nurse, had a whirlwind romance with a New Zealand sheep shearer two years ago, got married and lives in New Zealand now. My mother reckons that when the old terrier dies, she is going to sell up and move to New Zealand as the way of life over there appeals to her. When I left school, I worked in the timber with my father and when I was nineteen years of age I joined the army, namely the Scots Guards. Anything other than the Black Watch because when I was growing up, if I ever did anything wrong, I was told that the Black Watch would straighten me out. For almost six years now, I have done public duties which I hate and have served in Germany, Norway, Northern Ireland, Malaya and Borneo. I have good friends in the battalion and I’ll miss them when and if I can join the Parachute Company. Don’t ask about the narrow shaves I’ve had but that is what makes life interesting! I’ve had several girlfriends, nothing serious but getting moved from pillar to post can put a strain on the best of relationships. I’ll be honest with you, I have never been attracted to another woman as I have to you. Does that answer your question?”

Mary nodded in agreement, blushed a little at the outspoken compliment but inwardly felt pleased.

Sipping a new glass of Chardonnay, she began by saying, “My life is completely different from yours. I was brought up in an orphanage in Bridge of Weir. When I was about eight years, my mother, father and older sister were killed in a horrendous car accident. It was a miracle that I managed to survive, physically unscathed but emotionally scarred. As I had no living relatives, I was brought up in Quarriers Homes, Bridge of Weir by house-parents Mr and Mrs Black. They were incredibly good to me, gave me love, understanding and a will to improve myself. As God-fearing Christians, they set a high standard of discipline which has stood me in good stead and encouraged me to get a good education. Doing well at secondary school I went to Strathclyde University and after three years of study I took an Honours degree in accountancy. After university I found employment with Campbell Holdings and have been there ever since. With a bit of luck and a lot of diligent hard work, I am now head of department in internal investments. I share a flat with two other girls and my current boyfriend let me down very badly this weekend as I have already explained to you.”

Having consumed three glasses of wine, Mary was feeling talkative and enjoying herself. The warm glow of self-satisfaction was making her rather amorous. There was a distinct pause in the conversation and Jock was rubbing his chin with his forefinger and thumb. I wonder what pearl of wisdom I’m going to get now, thought Mary.

“You have impressed me yet again.” Jock’s voice was full of admiration, “but I think you being an executive businesswoman, successful in all you do and me just a squaddie in the army, you’re out of my league.”

“Am I really?” retorted Mary, “then explain this.”

 She put down her empty glass, reached over and pushed a surprised Jock off his makeshift seat, then threw herself on top of him, kissing him full on the lips with as much passion as she could muster. Jock responded and with his strong arms around her, made her feel even more passionate. With the need to feel naked flesh, both began to explore each other and soon all clothing was removed. Not a word was spoken. Utterly abandoned with passion Mary never knew she possessed, their lovemaking climaxed together with both moaning in sheer ecstasy.

“Well,” gasped Jock, “that took the wind out of my sails but I am not complaining.” Mary had never ever had such a feeling of womanhood as she did then.

Slowly she released herself and lay on her side, gazing at Jock. “Now I know what love is really like,” she murmured. Looking at the deep blue sky and with the warm sunshine on her back, a wild notion came into her head.

“I am going to skinny dip in the river,” she exclaimed and got up, ran to the edge and plunged in. The water was cold and dark, taking her breath away but she reached the far bank, held on to a ledge and shouted on Jock to join her.

Jock ran to the water’s edge and slowly entered the pool. His swimming stroke was more like a doggy paddle, all effort and no gain but he slowly made his way towards her. As he was within touching distance of her, Mary slipped under the water and swam beneath him before surfacing several yards behind Jock who was calling out for her with a hint of panic in his voice.

When she called him Jock looked around, relief written all over his face. Together they scrambled out of the pool, as naked as the day they were born. Jock dried Mary with his t-shirt and wrapped the picnic blanket around her as she was beginning to shiver.

After drying himself, Jock laid out the hessian bags in a rectangular shape, then laid the groundsheet on top of them. He undid a zip and erected a small pup tent with two small telescopic fibre poles.

“Compliments of the American Army,” announced Jock. The two of them crawled into the small tent and wrapped the picnic blanket around them.

Mary was pleasantly surprised at the amount of body heat from Jock. Like a mobile radiator she thought.

“Where did you learn to swim so well?” enquired Jock.

“Where I grew up in the Homes, we were taught swimming by an ex-policeman called Mr Baker who was strict but very fair. “He taught everyone to swim.”

“You had me worried,” declared Jock, “I thought you had just vanished.”

“Sorry to have frightened you,” apologised Mary and kissed him. This was returned with a long passionate embrace and the lovemaking started all over again.

Later, they lay together talking about every subject they could think of and when the sun disappeared behind the hill, they both realised that it was late evening. After he got dressed, Jock dismantled the pup tent and took all the hessian sacks to the Land Rover while Mary dressed in a fresh set of clothes from her suitcase. She applied some make up and got her red hair into a presentable shape.

“Could you return the picnic basket to the Ballachulish Hotel please?” asked Mary.

“No problem, anything for you,” was the answer.

Standing between their respective vehicles they embraced a final time. Mary gave Jock her business card and wrote her home address and telephone number on the reverse side.

Driving home towards Glasgow, Mary felt elated as she went over the events of the weekend in her mind. Approaching Loch Lomond she made the decision to visit Bob, demand an explanation as to why he never phoned and to tell him that the romance was off.

It was getting dark as she drove up the drive to Bob’s parents’ house, a mansion built for a tobacco baron last century when Glasgow was a boom town, the second city of the British Empire was the boast. There was only one light on in the whole building, then Mary remembered Bob’s parents were at a boating festival on the west coast.

As she rang the bell, Mary wondered what she was going to say to Bob. Eventually the door opened and there stood Bob in his dressing gown.

“Hi Mary! What a surprise! Sorry I couldn’t make it but what an experience I’ve had, I scored against Rangers. A dream come true! And I go for a trial with them next week!” blurted out Bob, before going on about his future prospects.

Nothing about me thought Mary. I can see now how selfish he really is.

“I won’t invite you in,” concluded Bob, “as I am just getting ready for bed.”

Mary was just about to give him her thoughts on their romance when a female voice came from the background, “When are you coming back to bed darling?” and an attractive girl appeared, wearing one of Bob’s football shirts.

Mary laughed. “I see you scored tonight, as well as against Rangers,” she said in a scornful voice. “I see how much you have missed me. You and I are finished,” and at that she turned and got into her car. As she left, she sounded her horn in a victory blast, no doubt causing the neighbours some aggravation.

When she reached her flat, she discovered that her three flatmates were having a social drink. They were all desperate to hear how her weekend had gone. “I’ll tell you all about it once I’ve unpacked and had a shower,” declared Mary, “and pour one small drink for me.”

Later, enjoying a drink and recounting her adventures to a captive audience, the phone rang and one of the girls answered it.

“It’s for you Mary,” came the call.

“If it’s Bob I’m not interested,” answered Mary, annoyed at being interrupted.

“It’s somebody called Jock,” was the reply. Like a rat up a drainpipe, Mary was at the phone.

“It’s yourself,” came Jock’s voice. “I thought I would find out if you got home safely and tell you that when I returned the picnic basket, I was given back twenty-five pounds deposit. The chef insisted that I take it as it would appear they were delighted with the gratuity that you left. Indeed, they spoke highly of you. So, on our next date I’ll pay for the meal with the deposit.”

Mary laughed and wished him, yet again, all the luck on his forthcoming course.

Her flatmates were curious about the phone call but she refused to divulge any information. Later, as she lay in her bed Mary daydreamed about her passionate encounter by the River Etive. It was so realistic she could almost hear the gurgling of the waters as they passed over the rapids.

Next morning, when she arrived at her work desk, there was a large bunch of roses. Jock’s getting really romantic she thought but when she saw the card she realised that it was from Bob, asking forgiveness. More than a little annoyed and disgusted, she gave the roses to Laura for her mother who was in a care home.