Where Have All the Boys Gone? (28 page)

‘I thought…I mean, I really liked him. But then he just left me flapping about in the wind, and Harry…Harry’s been so…I mean, he drives me crazy half the time, and he’s really moralistic and annoying.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘But…but, there’s something about him…I’d just…I’d just love to know what it’d be like to be with him. Do you know what I mean?’

Louise nodded. ‘God, yes.’

‘I don’t just mean that I want to go to bed with him.’

‘Although you do.’

Katie looked annoyed. ‘Well. Yes. I suppose. Yes.’

‘So, you fancy him?’

‘Yes. But I fancy Iain too. And now, he’s saying he wants…well I don’t know quite what he’s saying. I think I need to talk to him.’

‘He hasn’t turned up to be auctioned yet.’

‘Well, maybe I need to find him.’

By the time they got back to the marquee, it had changed completely. The auction was over, and all the tables had now been moved to the side, and the band had started playing in the corner. There were people everywhere, drinking, talking, reapplying lipstick. A haze of perfume and smoke hung in the air, and the noise was deafening.

‘Blimey,’ said Louise. ‘I guess your party’s a success then.’

‘Hmm,’ said Katie.

There was no sign of either Iain or Harry in the throng. Every so often a giggly woman would be walking along, arm in arm with her toga, looking pleased but proud.
Mrs McClockerty could be seen talking intently to Lachlan, whilst keeping a firm eye on the cake.

Katie wandered through the crowds in a dream, scarcely knowing who she was looking for. Louise was hard by her elbow. Suddenly, like the parting of the Red Sea, the ocean of people disappeared all around them. They looked around, twitching, only to find the band were all standing, ready to play, and the band leader was looking at them crossly, isolated in the middle of the dance floor. All around the marquee, couples were lined up like Siamese twin soldiers on parade.

‘Now, we’ll be starting with a Gay Gordons…’ announced the band leader. ‘And a one…two…three…four…’

‘Oh bollocks,’ said Katie. ‘This is the one I know, but I don’t know it on my own.’

‘Quick, scram,’ said Louise, and they made a dive for the side of the floor, fighting their way through a tightly-packed circle that was already huffing into the steps.

‘Aha!’ said two techies, who were standing on the other side, just as they stumbled out.

‘It’s you two! Come dance with us, all these women are nuts.’

‘No they’re not,’ scolded Katie.

‘Aye they are!’ said the shorter of the two. ‘Three of them just held me down and put their hands up my kilt!’

‘Well, that shouldn’t be happening,’ said Katie, disapprovingly.

‘Oh, no, I liked it, ken. It just might be a bit trickier on the dance floor.’

So Katie and Louise let themselves be swept away onto the huge floor, the sound of Dougie’s accordion ringing in their ears.

In some ways, Katie thought, dancing was incredibly good for taking your mind off things, and there was something intensely satisfying about the whole room moving as one. In another way, of course, it was completely strange, as she found herself pressed up against millions of backs, trying to avoid rogue stilettos. The music changed, and she was suddenly in a completely new dance, which involved facing your partner, moving to the side, then moving out to the wall to clap…and when she came back, her partner was no longer there, and she found herself face to face with one of the farm labourers, whose face she recognised.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

‘Travelling dance, aye?’ he said, enlightening her no further. He was looking very red in the face, as if he was having a completely great time, and he waltzed her around with some energy. ‘You just keep changing partners.’

As, indeed, she did, with every whirl and spin of the music. The men on the inside track moved around with every repeat of the dance. There was barely time to say much more than hello to her partners, attempt to keep up, and try to catch her breath before she was twirled off once more. Many of the men thanked her or wanted a quick word about whichever girl they particularly liked, which was touching, she felt, feeling more a part of this community than she could ever have dreamed, standing on that little railway halt, what felt like a very long time ago.

She found herself nodding as she flew along, the crowd seeming to get hotter and heavier all the time, and the music getting louder and more emphatic; so absorbed that it took a while, when she came back from clapping at the wall, to find herself hand in hand with Iain, who was wearing, oddly, a toga.

‘Hey,’ said Katie, gulping. He looked at her as they took their two steps to the right. ‘Didn’t you go up for auction?’

Iain shrugged. His hair was flopping over his left eye. ‘I thought…I thought about what you said, and I thought, well, maybe I shouldn’t be seeing any other women…you know…’

‘They don’t make you a real slave,’ said Katie, her heart pounding, as they kicked their legs out to either side. The woman next to her caught her ankle. ‘They can’t order you to perform cunnilingus or anything like that.’

Iain looked pale. ‘Please…look, Katie, I’m really sorry I didn’t call you.’

Katie twirled lightly. ‘You should have.’

‘I know.’

They twirled the other way.

‘Katie, if I can make this up to you, any way I can…I’d really love to.’ He looked at her imploringly, with those big green eyes.

This was the point at which Katie was supposed to head away and clap at the wall. But somehow she stayed firmly rooted to the spot.

‘Please,’ he said.

He looked so handsome, and so sad, it was all Katie could do not to fall into his arms there and then.

Suddenly she found herself the eye in the storm, standing completely still, as the first of the women behind her in the circle came cascading into her.

‘What the hell!’ shouted the woman, an abnormally tall, brassy blonde, tripping over her. ‘He’s mine next.’ She pointed at Iain.

‘Yeah, bloody move around,’ said the man next in line for Katie, whom she’d never seen before. He had a scaly beard and glasses, like the dad in
The Modern Parents.

Iain wasn’t moving either, just staring at her.

‘HEY!’ came another voice down the line, as they found the dance coming to an abrupt halt, spiked heels bumping painfully into ankles all the way down the tent.

‘Yeah, wot the fuck,’ came a London squeal. There were several tuts and grumbles in the air as couples collided and came to a pushing, shoving halt down the room.

‘Excuse me!’ said the blonde rudely, trying to push Katie out of the way. Katie still didn’t – couldn’t – move, and the blonde fell over, exposing the fact that it wasn’t only the men in kilts who were going without underwear that evening. She screamed and grabbed hold of the nearest man – the one with the beard – who promptly tripped over her ankle and pitched headfirst into the crowd.

There was mass screeching, then, as yards of expensive tulle and satin collapsed like a row of dominos, the band stopped playing and it became apparent that two of the women on the floor had started slapping each other.

‘Is that your woman fighting?’ demanded one of the men of another. ‘I’m meant to be dancing with her and she’s fighting?’

‘Whit?’ said the first man. Then he launched a punch.

Within seconds the whole place was in tumult. Too much free drink and hormones in the air had revved everyone up to a dangerously high pitch. The sound of dresses being ripped and glasses being broken resounded through the tent. Mrs McClockerty was being spared her cake-related punishment, as pieces of it were flying willynilly all over the place. A line of techies decided this was the great time to unleash their super surprise, as they all bent over and stuck their specially painted blue arses in the air, wiggling them as the paparazzi went crazy.

Still, Katie was staring at Iain, as, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure struggling to get through the crowds to see what was causing the ruckus. It was Harry. As soon as he saw the two of them, standing quietly on the edge of absolute chaos, seemingly completely unaware, he drew up short in front of them.

‘Katie,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Iain.’

He knew it would end like this, he supposed. Iain was going to get her. Maybe not for very long, but this time was probably different. Certainly looked that way from where he was standing.

‘Harry,’ said Katie. Her face was impossible to read. The three of them stood, motionless, as pandemonium reigned behind them.

‘WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS ALL THIS!!!???’

Amazingly, a super-deep, almost unbelievably loud voice suddenly cut across the dance floor and right through the tent. And, even more startlingly, people shut up and turned to see who was shouting.

A tall, powerfully-built man, in a very expensive-looking suit, was standing in the middle of the dance floor, looking absolutely furious. He had heavy brows that were pulled down over his eyes – very green eyes, Katie noticed. Behind him was a cluster of men, similarly dressed. The room was silent.

‘Dad,’ said Iain, finally.

All eyes focused on the two men. The family resemblance was very noticeable thought Katie, as he drew closer. Same height, same brown hair (although Iain’s father’s was fiercely combed back and cut very short), and definitely the same eyes. She found herself thinking of what Iain would look like when he got older, then shook her head to clear the image.

She looked at Harry. He was staring at Iain’s dad with an expression she’d never seen on him before; he looked furious, but at the same time, lost and a little vulnerable. She wondered if Iain’s dad had been something of a formidable presence when they were younger.

Iain’s dad let off a stream of Gaelic suddenly at Iain, who looked sullen and stared at the floor. Then he turned around to face the room.

‘I came here,’ he shouted, ‘to see if I could talk to you people. Explain how a golf course could only benefit this bloody place.’

There were instantly boos at this around the hall.

‘OH, BE QUIET,’ he boomed. ‘How many of you lot have come up from Glasgow or Edinburgh? Or London? You all say you love the Highlands, but not enough to move up here and build communities and raise your damn families here.’

His voice dropped as he realised people were listening to him. ‘The population’s dropping year on year. Look at you, advertising for women on the television. It’s a disgrace.’

There was a general muttering at this.

‘I’m just trying to put something back into the community, sheesh, ensure it
stays
a community. I’m just trying to stop you being outnumbered by the bloody sheep, for God’s sake.’

Katie watched him. He seemed genuinely to believe what he was saying. And he seemed to have a point. She looked around the room. People were letting him have his say. Some were even nodding sympathetically.

He looked around the room. The group of men behind his back were looking terribly disapproving.

‘But now I’ve brought some investors to see you…apparently,’ he glanced at the group of men behind him,
‘respectable golf-loving people aren’t going to want to come up here and play, surrounded by rabble like you lot. So, I guess you’ve won. And you can go back to drinking and fighting your way to oblivion on your own. I hope you’re happy.’

There was silence. Katie and Harry looked at each other, aghast and delighted.

Iain’s dad turned round to walk out.

‘Mr Kinross,’ shouted out Harry, his voice ringing loud and clear. Iain’s dad stopped and turned back around. ‘Are you saying you know what’s best for all of us?’

Iain’s dad looked at him closely. ‘Harry Barr? Well,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Well done you. At least you got yourself a proper job, unlike my feckless son over there.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Dad,’ said Iain, looking more like a teenager than a fully grown man.

‘I do have a job,’ said Harry. ‘And that job’s protecting our environment the way we like it. Where do you live, by the way?’

‘That’s not the point,’ said Iain’s dad.

‘I know that’s not the point,’ said Harry. ‘That’s why you’ve been talking complete bullshit. Your only point is money, and I for one could not be more delighted you’re going to take it somewhere else.’

There was a huge cheer at this.

‘Up the arse would be preferable to me, but it’s up to you.’

The investors hurried out of the marquee.

Iain’s dad walked straight up to Harry. They spoke quietly, but Katie was close enough to hear. ‘I cannot believe the six tons of shit you unloaded on us for this,’ said Mr Kinross. ‘I certainly underestimated you.’

‘I had help,’ said Harry. ‘And, actually, I think you overestimated your fucking stupid idea.’

Iain’s dad coughed. ‘Your mother would have been proud,’ he said, quietly.

Harry started, unable to speak.

‘She would have been too,’ came another voice. Iain’s.

‘THREE CHEERS FOR NO GOLF COURSE!’ shouted somebody from the back of the tent, and the place erupted behind them.

Katie watched as the three men gradually came closer together as the band picked up their instruments again. Her heart was beating wildly, and she couldn’t help but join in with the cheering and clapping.

Suddenly, a figure darted the length of the dance floor and grabbed Katie around the middle.

‘Katie,’ screeched Olivia.

The men turned to look at them.

‘What? What is it?’ asked Katie, who’d nearly been knocked off her feet.

‘I got a mobile signal!!!’

‘Ehm…’ Katie was conscious of being overheard. ‘Well, that’s great, Olivia. Well done.’

‘No, no, you don’t understand…’

Katie noticed Olivia was holding out the telephone.

‘It’s for you. It’s your sister.’

The next hour was absolute chaos. It wasn’t Katie’s sister speaking on the phone; it was her mother. Clara had gone into labour, and was asking for her. She was hysterical, apparently.

‘But I can’t get down there in less than twelve hours!’ said Katie. ‘Tell her to cross her legs or something.’

‘I think this is a pretty impatient baby,’ said her mother. ‘Just try and get here as soon as you can, will you sweet-heart? She’s really crying for you. The hospital aren’t happy with her at all. Her blood pressure’s all over the place.’

‘But it’s midnight!’ said Katie. ‘Nothing’s even running. I’m completely stuck up here!’ She found herself choking back tears.

The three men were listening hard.

‘Shh,’ Olivia was patting her arm, as was Louise, who’d just arrived. ‘We’ll just have to drive through the night, that’s all.’

‘Who’s sober enough to drive?’ sobbed Katie, extending her arm. ‘Everyone’s pissed as farts!’

Iain’s father gave a small cough suddenly. ‘Excuse me miss…’

‘Katie,’ said Katie, sniffing.

‘Hmm, yes. Well, I don’t know if I can be of assistance, but I understand it’s something of an emergency…’

Katie nodded.

‘Well, I do have a helicopter standing by for Inverness.’

‘Oh,’ said Katie, looking up at him, feeling a spark of hope.

‘Is it a big chopper?’ came a voice. They all turned around.

‘Hi, I’m Ewan McGregor,’ came the famous voice. ‘I hear from Olivia here you’ve got a bit of a problem, and, well, I’ve got a plane on standby at Inverness, so, please – be my guest.’

Katie’s eyes opened wide. ‘You don’t mean it?’

‘Consider it my donation. Or, at least, the production studio’s. It can come back and get me later; I just want the bloody dancing to start up again.’

‘Oh, thanks…’ said Katie, unable to express her gratitude to the men. ‘Thank you so,
so
much.’

‘Not at all,’ said the film star. ‘Thanks for an excellent party. Usually these things are complete crap.’ And he disappeared back into the throng.

‘Well, we’d better be going,’ said Iain’s dad. ‘These babies…’ he glanced at Iain. ‘They don’t wait around.’

Katie held on to Olivia and Louise as they left, sweeping past Iain, Harry and the rest of the room.

‘Shall we pick your stuff up?’ asked Olivia.

‘No time,’ said Katie.

‘Well, I mean, who knows…you might never come back here again.’

Katie allowed herself one smile through her terrible anxiety.

‘Oh. You never know.’

Louise and Katie had never been in a helicopter before, and couldn’t help being excited, as they took off into the even now not quite pitch-dark night; the castle and the marquee becoming a more faded point of light below them, surrounded by the huge and ongoing woods that engulfed the rest of the countryside.

‘It’s so beautiful here,’ said Louise sadly.

Iain’s dad, who was sitting in the row behind them, sniffed thoughtfully. Katie reckoned she ought to say something to him, but couldn’t imagine what.

‘Thanks,’ she said again. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘No trouble,’ he said. Then he looked at her. ‘Were you the girl my son talked about?’

‘Um, I don’t know,’ said Katie, swallowing hard.

‘Works for that Barr chap.’

‘Yes,’ said Katie.

‘It was a bad business that,’ said Iain’s dad. ‘When Harry’s mum was so ill, you know…I didn’t think Iain needed to see another boy go through life without a mother, after his own mum left…kept them apart. Then, when I saw how stupid an idea it was, he was just too scared to go. Thought he might catch something, or whatever. He’s just…a wee bit weak. That’s all.’

Katie nodded.

‘Well,’ said Iain’s dad, heaving a sigh. ‘It was nothing to do with my company you know. It was just a sad thing that happened. Publicity and rumours can be a pernicious thing. Though I guess you’d know a bit about that.’

Katie nodded again.

Mr Kinross sighed. ‘He’s a good lad, you know.’

Katie stared out of the window at the stars. They were nearing the town.

‘Good luck with your sister,’ said Iain’s dad, gruffly patting her on the shoulder.

The private plane was something else. Although they were concerned about Clara, they couldn’t help exclaiming as they were whisked through a side door at the airport and straight onto the runway. Louise even stopped and posed at the top of the stairs, waving to imagined crowds of fans.

‘Oh, this is the life,’ said Louise, when she saw the huge upholstered seats and carpeted cabin.

‘Have you never been on a private plane before?’ said Olivia.

‘SHUT UP OLIVIA!’ the two girls shouted.

They ordered cocoas from the stunningly beautiful hostess, who was managing to conceal extremely well her disappointment at the fact that they were just three girls and not, say, an international movie star.

Katie took her drink and stared blankly out of the window. From her reflection she could see she had mascara all down her face; from all that exertion while she was dancing, no doubt. She felt in her handbag for a tissue. Her hand came across a crumpled piece of paper. As she drew it out, she realised it was a sheet from today’s paper, that Iain had given her. It was the leader page. As she spread it out, she stared at it, trying to work out why. Her tired eyes itched, and then, suddenly, she got it.

It was her name she spotted first, all those capital letters, beginning with K. Grabbing a pen from out of her bag, she scribbled down the first letter of each sentence.

As the plane soared over the dark world she clutched the piece of paper to her tightly.

Although it was stupid o’clock in the morning, the maternity wing of St Thomas’s Hospital was buzzing; however, they were definitely the only girls in ball dresses. Katie and the girls ran down the halls searching for the labour wing. A friendly nurse directed them the right way, and Katie burst into the suite, her heart in her throat.

Clara was lying in bed, looking sweaty and wide-eyed. Their mother was sitting calmly right beside her.

‘WHAT! WHAT’S GOING ON! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?’ yelled Katie, her fear and exhaustion pouring out of her.

Clara’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Oh, wow, Katie,’ she said in a dreamy voice. ‘How did you get here so fast?’

‘My goodness,’ said their mother, getting up. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘THANKS FOR COMING!?’ shouted Katie. ‘I heard there were death-defying nightmares going on down here.’

Clara thought for a moment. ‘Oh yes. Well, I was a bit frightened when it all kicked off, you know.’

‘Maybe we called you too soon,’ said their mum.

‘I’m only having a baby, I’m not dying,’ said Clara. ‘Aaah.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ said Katie. ‘Where is it? Where’s your baby?’

‘Still inside,’ said Clara. ‘But I’ve had the epidural now. It was great. Lovely in fact. Contraction due any second now…’

A midwife bundled in. ‘Come on with you there,’ she said, peering up between Clara’s legs.

‘That was a lovely epidural,’ said Clara, dreamily.

‘We had to stop you screaming somehow, love, it was waking the other patients.’

She felt around. ‘OK, now, you’re going to push really hard.’

Clara shut her eyes. Katie took one hand and her mother took the other.

‘Come on, now, just push…that’s right…OK, I can see the head now.’

The other two girls immediately ran down to the other end for a look.

‘Oh my God!’ said Louise.

‘Is it gross?’ said Clara.

Katie desperately wanted to head down there too, but Clara was holding her hand so tightly she wouldn’t get away without amputation.

‘Oh my God, it’s coming out!’ said Louise. She turned to Olivia. ‘I can’t
believe
I’m watching Max’s baby being born.’

‘You’re brilliant,’ said Olivia.

‘I
know,’
said Louise.

The door flew open.

‘Am I missing it? I can’t believe you’ve stopped screaming.’

It was Max.

Louise took a step back.

‘Hello Max.’

He looked slim, tanned and very very drawn, and as if he’d just seen a ghost.

‘Louise,’ he said.

‘You’re missing it!’ yelled Clara.

Louise stood aside as the midwife ushered him to where the baby was coming out. It landed in his arms, making something of a slithery sound, covered in red goo. Olivia jumped back, in case it splashed on her outfit. The baby opened its tiny scrunched-up mouth and started to scream.

‘Oh my God,’ Max kept saying. ‘Oh my God.’

‘Would you like to cut the cord?’ the midwife asked him.

‘God, no,’ he said, handing the baby over. ‘I’d faint. Oh God – it’s a little girl.’

‘Just what we need,’ said Olivia, until Louise nudged her.

Katie couldn’t speak at all, she couldn’t stop crying.

‘Oh goodness,’ said Clara, like a big sigh. The midwife took the baby, still bawling, and wiped her down, then handed her to her mother and went back down to the business end to poke around some more.

‘Oh my goodness,’ said Clara again, as they all crowded around. ‘Oh my goodness.’

‘She looks just like you as a baby,’ said their mother, who was absolutely tearful.

‘She looks just like a baby,’ said Louise. ‘A perfect baby.’

Katie was too busy admiring the exquisite little fingers and toes. ‘I can’t believe…there’s one more person in this room. How did that just happen?’ she asked.

Clara looked at her with an exhausted smile. ‘Thanks, sis.’

‘You looked like you were doing all right,’ said Katie, taking her hand again.

‘I mean, thanks for looking after me.’

Katie thought of the small flat again. Well, look, their mother was here, and she would share in it, wouldn’t she? It wouldn’t be so bad. She needed to get back to real life, away from Brigadoon, with its complications, and…she looked at the baby, who looked as exhausted as her mother. She yawned, a tiny little cub yawn, and Katie’s heart melted. Well, there would be love.

‘That’s no problem,’ she said, squeezing Clara’s shoulder. ‘That will never be a problem.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Clara, unable to take her eyes off her tiny daughter. ‘No, I don’t mean that. Um, we’re going home with Max.’

Max moved up and put his arms around her shoulders. ‘Uh, yes,’ he said, deliberately not looking at Louise. ‘I think it’s time to face up to my responsibilities.’

‘Well, that sounds romantic,’ said Louise. Then she stopped herself. Fortunately Clara hadn’t heard her anyway, being completely caught up in every first flicker of her daughter’s face. ‘Sorry,’ Louise said. ‘I mean, congratulations.’

Max looked at Louise then. It was a long look. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It just…life…I didn’t know what I wanted, and…’

Louise moved forward and stood in front of him. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, although by the look on Max’s face, he wasn’t sure if it was all right at all. ‘Honestly,’ she
continued. ‘I don’t think we were right. Not really. It couldn’t have been.’

Max looked taken aback by this new calm Louise, who was no longer phoning him drunk at three o’clock in the morning to enunciate to ten decimal places exactly how much of a wanker he was.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I’m moving.’

‘You’re what?’ said Katie, starting.

Louise smiled. ‘I…well, last night Craig the Vet and I got to talking.’

‘I
knew
it!’ said Katie.

‘And, erm,’ Louise was actually blushing. ‘I think I’m going to, er, maybe give up my job.’

‘You did that ages ago,’ said Olivia. ‘Trust me.’

‘And, maybe go help him out for a bit.’

‘Help him out
how?’
asked Katie.

‘You know, receptionist, assistant, that kind of thing.’

‘Sexual plaything?’

Louise smiled. ‘I wouldn’t want to talk about any of that in the presence of a baby, thanks.’

Max looked gobsmacked.
‘You’re
moving to the country?’

Louise nodded.

‘I always wanted to move to the country,’ said Max.

‘Ahem!’ said Clara, loudly. ‘I’ve decided on a name.’

Clara had made a huge point of not knowing what to call her baby until she saw its face.

They crowded around.

‘Please, not after a fruit,’ begged Katie. ‘Anything but that.’

Clara shook her head imperiously. ‘This baby’s name is…Glastonbury Romany Watson Evans.’

Max’s face dropped, until he could muster a forced smile.

It was seven a.m. Time for home. Katie said goodbye to everyone, with promises to meet up at Clara and Max’s the next day – their mother was staying there to help with feeding (Max, not the baby).

Louise, full of nervous excitement, was going home to pack. Olivia was going to work; she had a big story on her hands.

Katie walked across Waterloo Bridge alone. At that time in the morning, the city was just waking up. It was going to be another beautiful day. The great river was already shivering with early morning sunshine, and she didn’t even care that early commuters were staring at her in her dress. To imagine, this was the first ever day in history with Glastonbury – oh God, Katie wondered if she’d settle for Toni – in it. She opened a bottle of Perrier water she’d picked up in the hospital and stared dreamily out onto the water.