CHAPTER 4 Climbing High

    Four weeks later, Mary was standing at the arrival concourse at Glasgow Airport, waiting for a flight from Heathrow Airport. She was excited as she was meeting Jock who was on a seventy-two-hour pass from his course and they had agreed to spend it in a log cabin on the shores of Loch Lomond.

Suddenly, she saw him come striding through the door, carrying a huge rucksack over one shoulder. She rushed to meet him and without hesitation threw her arms around him. They kissed, impervious to the amused and admiring glances from fellow passengers.

Taking his arm, she guided Jock to where her Ford Escort was parked. They talked to each other about the journey, office politics and the parachute course, both happy to be in one another’s company. As they drove over the Erskine Bridge, the rain which had been threatening all day started as a steady downpour and continued without respite until they reached their cabin which was partly built on stilts, actually in the loch. It had a large window overlooking the loch.

“Rather posh!” exclaimed Jock.

“I thought it would be romantic,” explained Mary, “especially with a hot tub on the balcony.”

After they had both admired the cabin, they carried their luggage into the bedroom. Before they had even unpacked, they were in each other’s arms, kissing and running hands over each other, finishing up making love on the bed.

Mary was so happy to be in the company of her man, as she secretly called him. All the fears and niggles that she had had about their relationship were banished and later, as they sat in the hot tub overlooking the loch, she had the confidence to tell Jock her news.

“There’s a promotion coming up in the firm and I have decided to apply for it. It is based in London, a slight increase in salary but free accommodation in a fancy apartment block near the office.”

“That’s great news!” exclaimed Jock, “It means I can see you most weekends as long as I am stationed at Pirbright and pass the rest of this course that I am on.”

Mary smiled contentedly, all doubts banished from her thoughts.

Conversation continued as to what they would do next day and it was agreed they would climb Ben Lomond on the other side of the loch and dine out for breakfast and dinner.

Next morning Mary wakened to find she was in bed alone and apart from the huge rucksack there was no sign of Jock. After a shower, she was sipping a cup of coffee when she saw the distant figure of a runner coming along the shoreline. As it drew nearer, she recognised Jock. A few minutes later he entered the cabin, soaked in sweat and taking deep breaths.

“Tomorrow morning I am coming with you,” declared Mary.

“I’ll try to keep up with you,” laughed Jock as he headed for the shower.

Later they had a big breakfast at a café in Balloch overlooking the River Leven and bought refreshments for a snack lunch.

Parking Mary’s Ford Escort at Rowerdennan, they climbed the long slog to the top of Ben Lomond. As they reached the summit the cloud lifted and the sun shone. The views from the top were breathtaking. All the islands in the loch contrasting with the blue water, the sharp outline of the Arrochar Alps in the west, Ben More in the north with the Mamores behind, the Trossachs to the east and the Renfrew hills in the south made them stand and admire the view in all directions, drinking it all in like a fine tasting wine.

They decided on a direct descent to the loch and several hundred feet beneath the summit they stopped for lunch, sheltered from the cool wind by a large rock. Indeed, it was a heat trap with a superb view over the loch.

Mary was on the point of nodding off when Jock touched her arm with his finger, gesturing to remain silent, he pointed with his other hand to the left of them.

About fifty yards away, a small herd of wild goats were browsing with several kids frolicking behind them.

Slowly, Mary reached into Jock’s rucksack for her camera and was able to get several good snapshots of the goats.

The two of them watched silently for about twenty minutes but then the wind changed from being upwind of them to downwind. Appalled by the vile odour from the goats, Mary let out a gasp of disgust and the goats immediately scampered downhill.

By the time Mary and Jock had walked to where the Ford Escort was parked at Rowerdennan, it was early evening. Although very tired, Mary was delighted with how the day had gone. Driving back through the village of Drymen, Jock suggested stopping at the Buchanan Arms for a meal. Mary was surprised how relaxed she was in Jock’s company and how he listened to her attentively when she spoke.

Fortified by a terrific meal in the bar and an enjoyable conversation with some locals, they returned to the cabin as darkness was falling. Later in the hot tub next to Jock, Mary thought that it had been a perfect day.

Next morning they jogged, ran and walked along the shoreline of Loch Lomond, then returned to the cabin by the forest and golf course paths. The gentle drizzle of rain kept them pleasantly cool.

Arriving back at the cabin they showered together, laughing and having good-natured banter with one another. After packing and tidying the cabin, they returned the keys and had a late breakfast in Balloch at the huge retail park. Browsing around the shops, they spent a good two hours talking and finding mutual interests. At a large tartan shop Jock bought a Highland soldier in a plastic container and gave it to Mary.

“A souvenir from the terrific weekend,” was how Jock described it as he handed it over. Mary was touched and thought that is the second gift he has given me and I will treasure them both.

Later, in the early evening at Glasgow Airport, as she broke from a final farewell embrace with Jock and watched him going through the departure gate, the saying ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’ had never seemed so apt.