Bridge of Hope (12 page)

I shook my head as I stepped in front of her. “I
loved
you, Alice. I loved you
despite
the shit you’ve put me through. Well, no more. It’s over. It ends
right now
.
Don’t
call me.
Don’t
come looking for me. I will
never
forgive you for this.” I could hear the pain and anguish in my own voice, but I was determined not to cave.

Not this time.

I took my mobile phone out of my pocket and dialled Sarah’s number whilst I stood in the room, seething, before my wife and her bloody lover. And I’m using the word
bloody
in the literal sense of the word.

Sarah answered after one ring.

With a raspy voice I said, “Sarah, darlin’, I’m sorry to do this to you, especially over the phone. But your boyfriend is a lying, cheating, scumbag bastard. And he deserves my lying, cheating, scumbag of a wife if you ask me. He’s been fucking her. I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but I’ve just found them in a rather compromising situation. So much for their fucking lies. Now I suggest you stay where you are, with people who actually
give
a shit about you, and have someone remove your stuff from the house as soon as possible. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.” I hung up before she could answer.

Grabbing a bag once again, I shoved all of the possessions that I could carry inside it, zipping it up when it was full to bursting. Picking up my keys, I walked out of the door and didn’t look back.

I reached the Landy, threw my heavy bag in the backseat, and climbed in behind the wheel. Turning the key in the ignition, I was greeted by the words of “In a Big Country” by the band Big Country, and the music somehow lifted me. Stuart Adamson seemed to be singing just for me about shattered dreams. A sense of serenity came over me and I actually smiled as I listened. He was right. It was time to leave.

Chapter Fifteen

May 2011

After the debacle that was my visit to Mallory’s, the day after the gig where I’d sung the song that broke her, I managed to avoid her for a while. I figured the less I saw her, the less harm I could cause.

It was a Sunday around the second week in May, and I’d just stopped into the pub to pick up my pay from Stella. As I climbed back in the Landy, I saw Josie and Brad’s van driving away from Mallory’s house. It looked like the last of her visitors was going home. Poor lass. Now she’d be alone in that new house. My chest twinged at the thought. I leaned forward and put the cash in my glove compartment and then sat back up and turned the key in the ignition. I caught sight of Mallory and her little black dog walking away from the cottage. They stopped at the midpoint of the bridge.

I set off and pulled up alongside where they stood. Winding down the passenger-side window, I shouted over, “Hey, Mallory, how are you doing?”

“Oh hi, Greg. I’m okay, I think. Having my moments.” She smiled that beautiful smile that made my insides twist.

Deciding to be brave and face up to the mistake I’d made at the pub that night, I climbed out of the Landy and jogged around to her.

“Look, I wanted to apologise for that night in the pub.” I ran my hand through my hair—a bit of a telltale, but I couldn’t prevent myself from doing it when I was nervous. “If I’d known…”

“Look, don’t worry, you had no clue. How could you have? I’d had quite a bit to drink too, which I don’t think helped. Really, please don’t worry.” Her smile was warm and caring. I knew she was trying to stop me from feeling guilty, but I couldn’t help it.

“I just felt so bad. I came round the day after.”

“Yes, Josie said so. You don’t need to worry.”

“Aye, but every time I speak to you, I put my foot in it.”

Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. I was fucking mesmerised. Her smile got wider. “Well, if it’s any consolation, up to that point in the evening I thought you were really good.”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. Now you have to understand, I don’t embarrass easily; but receiving a compliment from this gorgeous girl did something strange to me, and I suddenly felt like a school kid with a fucking crush.

“Really? Thanks. I’m hoping to do it again soon. You should come along. Are there any other songs I should avoid?” I asked with a slight hint of a cringe.

“No, just that one.”

“Okay, noted. Keep a lookout for the blackboard at the pub… well, that is, when I’ve made one. Right, well, I’d better go. I’m off to fix a leaky tap at Colin’s. He tried to do it, but I think it’s something a bit more serious than he thought.” I rambled on about shite as usual and walked around to climb back in the Landy. “I’m glad you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be, eh?”

I fastened my seat belt and watched her as she fiddled with her hair, tucking it behind her ear. She was losing weight, and those sexy curves of hers were disappearing. Absentmindedly I wondered if she was eating.

“Anyway, you should come up to the pub for some food sometime. Stella makes the best steak pie, and you’ve lost too much weight since you moved here, you’re looking like you could use a good meal.” As soon as the words left my fucking stupid mouth I clamped my hand over it.

The ghost of a smile slipped from her lips, and her brow crumpled. Her gaze slowly drifted to the pavement beneath her feet.

Too late, McBradden, you wanker.
Removing my hand, I cringed. “Fuck. I really should just not talk to you, eh?” I shook my head, put the car into gear, and set off at speed, feeling like a complete and utter arse.

Again.

I began to think it was doubtful that I even
had
a brain-to-mouth filter. If I did, it needed new batteries or a good bloody clean out.

Although Colin and Christine lived just over the way, I drove in the opposite direction. I was mortified at what I’d just said to the poor wee girl and couldn’t think straight. I glanced in my rearview mirror. She looked
hurt
. And I’d done that. She peered down at her body and pulled at her trousers where they hung from her hips. She began walking again and I turned to concentrate on the road.

What an arsehole I was.

As I drove I decided that there was no way she’d set foot in the damn pub again. I turned the car around and headed back to the village to Colin’s. Luckily by the time I’d driven off my feelings of mortification, Mallory and Ruby were nowhere to be seen and so I pulled up, grabbing my tool kit, and made my way into the shop.

Colin was a great bloke in his late fifties with greying hair and kind eyes. He was fairly slim and a good few inches shorter than me. “Hey, have you seen anything of the new lassie recently? Mallory, I mean?”

I scratched the back of my neck and cringed. “You could say that.”

“Oh? Why do I detect a hint of negativity, Gregory?”

I hesitated, firm in the knowledge that he’d berate me just as I’d done myself. “Well, you know the other night at the gig?”

A wide smile appeared on his face. “Oh, yes. I meant to say to you how well it went. Chrissy and I loved it.”

“Thanks. I wish I could say the same for Mallory.”

His brow crumpled in confusion. “She seemed to be enjoying it… before she up and left with her friends.”

“Aye, well… the reason she left was I sang ‘Chasing Cars’. It reminded her of when Sam proposed. It really broke her heart, Col. I felt terrible. And I know I wasn’t to know,” I said, forestalling the reassurance. “But that’s not all.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. What else have you done?”

“I… erm… pretty much told her she’s wasting away and needs to eat.”

Colin gaped for a few moments. “You
did
not
. Gregory, you know how women can be sensitive about that kind of thing. Honestly. Have you not the sense you were born with, man?”

I felt my cheeks burning. “I’m not known for my tact am I, Col?”

He shook his head with a look of derision. “That’s true. I heard from Ron about how you greeted her when she first arrived. Goodness me, Greg, put brain in gear before engaging mouth.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. I just wish… I wish I could do something nice for her. You know? I understand what she’s going through.”

As if the wheels were turning in his brain, Colin pursed his lips and stared into space. “Hmmm.” Then he walked away, shouting, “I’ll get the kettle on.”

Nothing more was said and so I set about fixing the tap, drinking coffee, and keeping my feet out of my mouth.

~~~

Mallory invaded my thoughts continuously. As soon as I arrived home, I jumped in the shower, turning the dial to cold, determined to eject her from my mind. The icy stream of water took my breath away as it pounded at my sensitive skin, and for a few moments my focus was drawn away from Yorkshire lasses with chocolate-brown hair and sexy curves. Instead I felt my teeth chattering and wondered if my balls would ever descend again. Once I had tortured myself enough, I switched off the shower and grabbed a warm towel from the radiator, wrapping it around my body and relishing the heat that radiated through to my bones. When I was dry I went downstairs, poured myself a glass of whiskey, and picked up Rhiannon. For some reason Fleetwood Mac always popped into my head when I thought about Mallory; and it turned out the shower had done me no good whatsoever as “Don’t Stop” popped into my head. I began strumming.

The lyrics could’ve been written for her. In fact,
I
could’ve written them
myself
, for her. That was the thing I’d discovered about music. I could never express my own feelings very well since Alice did the dirty on me. But I could usually find a song by someone else that said exactly what I was feeling.

Perhaps I’d sing “Don’t Stop” next time I played at the pub, and if she was there, I’d dedicate it to her…
Soppy swine
. I played a few more songs as Angus lay snoring on the rug in front of me. I stroked his belly with my bare foot, and he smiled. I know they say that dogs can’t smile, but Angus did. I could just tell.

When I was beginning to get tired, I made my way up to bed, stripped naked, and climbed in under the covers. As I lay down, I realized I hadn’t needed a single malt to take away the usual ache.

My eyes fluttered open and I gasped in shock at the figure standing at the end of my bed. Mallory was dressed in the biggest sweater I’d ever seen. I was confused at first as to why she was in my bedroom, but even more so as to why her sweater was getting bigger. I stifled a laugh, remembering that she didn’t like me and that I’d laughed at her before and received a tongue-lashing that made me feel two inches tall.

“I don’t fit, Greg.” Her voice was so sad and a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away on the huge sleeve.

“What do you mean you don’t fit?” I asked.

“I don’t fit anywhere. I don’t fit here in Clachan Seil… I don’t fit back home in Leeds now that Sam has gone… I don’t even fit into my clothes anymore.”

My heart broke and I sat up and crawled to the end of the bed, disregarding the fact that I was naked. I cupped her face in my palms. “You do fit. You do belong. You belong here, Mallory… with me.” I leaned forward, pressing my now prominent arousal into her belly, and was just about to take her in my arms and kiss her—

Chapter Sixteen

I sat at my small kitchen table, drinking a cup of strong coffee. Last night’s dream whirred around in my head; and every time I remembered the part where I was about to kiss her, shivers ran down my spine and I had to adjust myself in my boxers. S
he was wearing a huge jumper, for fuck’s sake! What’s sexy about that?
I slammed my cup down, the thud echoing around the silent room. Most of the contents spilled out and began a rhythmical drip-dripping onto the tiled floor. Cursing to myself, I wiped up the mess I’d made.

Music.

That’s what I needed. Music. I turned on my stereo, hit random, and cranked up the volume, figuring I could deafen my thoughts into submission. Soundgarden’s “Black Hole Sun” vibrated around the room as I lay back on my couch, eyes closed. The next track had me sitting up and staring at my sound system as if it were forging some kind of conspiracy against me. “Ever Fallen in Love” by the Buzzcocks mocked me through the speakers.

“I’m not in fucking love with her!” I shouted at the graphic equaliser before hitting the off button in a massive huff. I decided to go and do some work on
Little Blue
, seeing as I wasn’t working at the pub until later.

The sky was a beautiful azure. But the trouble was, it reminded me of the eyes of a particular Yorkshire lass I seemed to be unable to forget about. I touched up a bit of paintwork and sanded down the interior of the cabin. It was a job I’d been meaning to do for a while. Angus sat on the dock, watching me work; his tail wagging as always. He was usually reluctant to set paws on the boat on account of the motion of the deck making him sick.