Part 2 (1/2)
The band struck up 'Westering Home' and the little schoolchildren sang the words in their clear Highland voices. Ragged cheering broke out from the far end of the village.
Alison craned her head forwards and looked along the village street.
Her first sight of Hamish Macbeth sent all her rosy fantasies cras.h.i.+ng into ruins. He was tall and thin and gangling with fiery red hair showing under his peaked cap. He looked half delighted and half embarra.s.sed, and as he drew near the platform he actually blushed.
Hamish was trying very hard not to cry. He was making all sorts of grateful promises. No more laziness. No more lolling about. He would, in future, be hardworking and never, ever would he give the powers that be any excuse to send him away again.
He looked up at the platform and his eyes sharpened. The band and the choir had fallen silent. A large woman, a stranger to him, was giving him a speech of welcome. He studied her curiously, his eyes taking in the too-new tweeds, the heavy face, and the autocratic manner. He was forcibly reminded of a competent actress playing the part of a gentlewoman.
There was something about her that disturbed him and as she came to the end of her speech, she drooped one eyelid at him in a definite wink. In that moment, he had an odd feeling that inside that fat tweed-covered body was a slim beauty who had put on some sort of middle-aged disguise for a joke.
And then he realised he was being asked to make a speech.
He climbed up onto the platform, his eyes resting briefly on Alison Kerr and then turning to Priscilla, who had joined her parents. His face lit up and he gave Priscilla a singularly sweet smile.
He's not bad, thought Alison, not bad at all. He had, she noticed for the first time, hazel eyes fringed with thick lashes.
”Thank you all,” said Hamish shyly. ”You haff made me most welcome. I don't know quite what to say. Och, just thank you all from the bottom o' my heart.”
Miss Monson began to play and Nessie and Jessie burst into their well-known rendering of 'My Heart And I.' When they had finished, Priscilla jumped to her feet. ”Three cheers for Hamish,” she shouted. And Hamish blushed as the cheers rang out and felt that awful lump in his throat. He wanted to get away and be by himself, but there was a welcome buffet luncheon laid out in the Lochdubh Hotel and more speeches, and so he forced himself to talk to everyone and try not to feel he did not deserve any of it.
Priscilla came up to nun and kissed him lightly on the cheek. ”Stick it out a bit longer, Hamish,” she whispered. ”It'll soon be over and then you can go home.” Hamish looked at her with quick grat.i.tude and then found he was beginning to enjoy himself.
”Well, copper,” said a throaty voice, ”aren't you going to thank me?”
He looked down at Maggie Baird. He gave her a puzzled look and then his eyes began to dance with mischief. ”Are you then the leader of the Lochdubh Mafia?” he asked. ”All thae crimes had poor Sergeant MacGregor not knowing whether he was coming or going.”
Maggie gave a jolly laugh. ”Someone had to think of something,” she said. ”You were very much missed and now I have met you, I can understand why.”
”You are Mrs. Baird,” said Hamish. ”You arrived after I left for Strathbane.”
”Yes.” Maggie became aware that Alison was tugging furtively at her sleeve, obviously hoping for an introduction, and she swung her great bulk a little way around so that Alison was s.h.i.+elded from Hamish. ”I don't know if I'll stay long,” went on Maggie airily, ”but this little place amuses me for the moment.”
”If you like peace and quiet, it'll grow on you,” said Hamish amiably. ”I do not think I haff been introduced to this young lady.” He looked over Maggie's shoulder at Alison.
”Oh, this is my niece, Alison Kerr. She's just recovered from cancer which is why she looks a bit ratty.”
Alison winced and Hamish said quickly, ”You look chust fine to me, Miss Kerr. You must still be feeling awfy frightened. I mean, you must keep worrying that it might come back.”
”Yes,” said Alison gratefully. ”It's made me an awful coward, the fear, I mean. I'm frightened of my own shadow.”
”Well, I suppose that's as good an excuse as any,” said Maggie nastily.
”One o' my cousins had an operation for cancer,” Hamish went on as if Maggie hadn't spoken. ”He's fine now. The fear goes away after a bit. It's a bit like getting over the death of someone you loved.”
Maggie gave a musical laugh and her blue eyes looked flirtatiously up into Hamish's own. ”Is this evening going to turn into a therapy session, or are you going to pay some attention to your saviour?”
”Oh, aye,” said Hamish with a grin. ”I'm grateful to you, Mrs. Baird.”
Maggie put her hand on his arm. ”And how are you going to show that grat.i.tude, Officer?”
He was suddenly aware of her overpowering s.e.xuality, of the expensive French perfume she wore, of being enclosed between walls of suffocating intimacy, and instinctively drew back. He thought, This is what a woman must feel like when a man is undressing her with his eyes.
He hailed the arrival of Mrs. Todd, Maggie's housekeeper, with relief. ”Good evening, Mrs. Todd,” he said. ”It's a while since I've seen you.”
Mrs. Todd was a small, st.u.r.dy woman dressed, despite the cold evening, in a black silk gown embroidered with jet that looked like an Edwardian relic. She ignored Hamish and Maggie and said to Alison, ”Are you all right, Miss Ken? I hope the festivities aren't too much for you.”
Mrs. Todd's normally hard features were softened by a maternal smile. ”Thank you,” said Alison in a little girl voice. ”I'm feeling fine.”
”I've just been up to the house and put a hot water bottle in your bed and a thermos of milk on the table,” said Mrs. Todd. ”You're to drink every drop of that milk, mind!”
”Yes, Mrs. Todd,” said Alison meekly. Normally she was grateful for the housekeeper's maternal warmth but just at that moment, she wished Mrs. Todd would go away, that Maggie would go away, and leave her to talk to this odd policeman who was the first person who had ever guessed how she really felt.
”You wouldn't think I had good central heating,” said Maggie crossly.
”There's nothing mair comforting than a nice hot water bottle,” said Mrs. Todd firmly.
Maggie saw Colonel Halburton-Smythe and decided to go flirt with him to liven up the evening and try her hand with the copper later on. Alison watched her go with relief but then found that Mrs. Todd was determined to stay. Hamish talked for a little to both Alison and Mrs. Todd and then was claimed by Priscilla.
”The guests are thinning out,” said Priscilla. ”Not long to go, Hamish. How's Mrs. Todd enjoying her job as housekeeper?”
”She's fond of that niece, Alison,” said Hamish. ”I suppose she enjoys the money. Mrs. Baird is supposed to be rich. Also, it gives Mrs. Todd an interest. She hasn't done much since her husband died.”
”When was that again?” asked Priscilla.
”Two years? Three? Can't quite remember myself.”
”And what do you make of Mrs. Baird?”
Hamish frowned. ”She makes me uneasy,” he said. ”She's the sort of woman who creates violence. I think she's a bad woman.”
”Why, Hamish Macbeth! You old-fas.h.i.+oned thing!”
”No, I didnae mean scarlet woman. She's spiteful to that niece of hers. She likes to be the centre of attention. She likes excitement. She think she likes affairs and yet she's too fat to have much hope at the moment.”
”I wouldn't be too sure of that,” said Priscilla, watching her father's flushed and excited face as he spoke to Maggie Baird.
Maggie was enjoying herself. She was aware, out of the comer of her eye, of Mrs. Halburton-Smythe's disapproval and that gave her a feeling of elation. A jealous woman acted on Maggie's spirits like a shot of adrenalin. There was a long mirror beside her on the wall. She turned to look at herself.
Robert Burns wrote: O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us, O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us, To see oursels as others see us, To see oursels as others see us, It wad frae mony a blunder free us, It wad frae mony a blunder free us, And foolish notion. And foolish notion.
But Maggie Baird saw herself for the first and last time in her life as she really was and instead of freeing her from foolish notions, it set in motion a catastrophic chain of events. To see oneself as one really is-if one is ever unlucky enough to have that experience-is quite shattering. The veil of illusions and little vanities is rudely ripped aside. Maggie saw clearly a fat tweedy woman with once beautiful eyes narrowed by fat cheeks. She saw all the pettiness and meanness of soul. She saw the iron grey hair. She looked not only her age but a good bit more. Her hand fluttered up to her cheek in a helpless motion and she turned the colour of mud. She gasped for breath and swayed and the colonel shouted with alarm and rushed to support her.
Dr. Brodie, the village doctor, came bustling up. ”Pills,” croaked Maggie. ”Handbag.”
The doctor called for a gla.s.s of water while he rummaged in Maggie's handbag, stopping for an instant to look in dazed surprise at a packet of condoms before he found the pills.
Maggie gulped down the pills and slowly her colour began to return. ”I'd better phone for the ambulance,” said Dr. Brodie.