‘Not so much as you’d think. Dad was always working, pretty much, and Mum had a lot on her plate with me and Murray, and for a long time she was looking after our granddad too. We’d come out onto the paths now and again…’ she shrugged.
‘But you weren’t bagging Munros every weekend?’
‘Hah! With Murray in tow? Hardly. He’s always preferred a coffee shop or a beach, or a big city.’ This stopped Ally. ‘In fact,’ she said, turning back to point into the wide vista. ‘Over there somewhere is a loch with a pink sandy beach.’ Jamie stopped and peered too. ‘You can’t see it from here, the mists are obscuring it, but we went there for days out, more often than not.’
‘Visibility’s not as good as it was,’ Jamie said. ‘Should we have our picnic and head back down?’
‘What? No, we’re almost at the bothy. Just a bit further.’ The truth was she wanted today to last as long as possible, now that she was enjoying herself.
He checked his app once more and they turned and followed the ever-decreasing red dotted line tracking how far they still had to go.
There were a thousand things she wanted to ask him as they walked. Was he excited at the prospect of returning to Edinburgh? Would he continue volunteering there until he heard one way or another about whether he’d been selected for the intake of rookie regulars? She guessed he would. He was born for the street beat. Other things she wanted to know clamoured in her mind as she placed down her boots, step after step. Would he miss her? Would he ever come back to visit? Had he looked at the Edinburgh to Cairn Dhu train timetable any time lately? Like she had last night, trying not to hope for things.
To shut off these thoughts, she landed on something safe. ‘How’s your dad been?’
‘Uh, well…’ Had she asked the wrong thing? His face was set and serious. ‘He’s gone quiet again.’
‘Again?’
‘Yeah, he doesn’t mean to. It’s something he’s always done. It’s like he loses all his words. Karolyn says he’s shuffling round the house like a sleepwalker. He’s doing all the usual stuff; picking up the newspaper, doing the online shop, loading the dishwasher, but he’s barely talking.’
‘Do you think it’s depression, maybe?’ Ally didn’t want to be too presumptuous, but she’d seen the man with her own eyes and there was a lurking sadness in him that day at the shed, even though he was doing his best to support his son.
‘It comes and goes,’ Jamie said, like there was nothing that could be done.
‘Has he ever had any help? A doctor? What about bereavement counselling?’ She reined it in before she turned into Little Miss Solution Finder. It was in her nature to try and fix things for other people, but she knew hearts were a tricky thing to repair.
‘Those aren’t things he’ll talk about. He’s got that keep calm and carry on thing going on, like loads of dads. Can’t say it’s worked for him so far.’
Ally was imagining Jamie’s childhood, putting together the puzzle pieces from the little she’d gleaned. No wonder he’d been so sad when they first met.
On impulse, she put her hand in his once more. Touching him again was enough to cast a new kind of spell, something bigger than the dizzying mountain mood, something alive and electric, stronger than childhood memories and present worries.
‘You should talk with him,’ she said, and not without some difficulty. She felt herself getting breathless as they fell into a slow, matching stride, their arms rubbing together. ‘Now you’ve got some perspective on home.’
He thought about this.
She caught him plumping his lip pensively.
‘Reckon I could. I need to do something before I head back there.’
The rocky boulder-strewn path was opening up to rough, scrubby walking. As they stepped inside the wide mountain pass between the great walls of Mount Cairn Dhu, the temperature fell sharply. The air was damp. What little sunlight was making its way through the white-grey cloud cover suddenly dimmed further. They were getting deeper now. Getting drawn in.
Their eyes fell upon a low drystone wall sitting oddly alone in the middle of the scrub. Ally recognised its purpose, but allowed Jamie to approach it, wondering if he could work out what it was.
She watched as he stepped around and inside the strange snail-shell curl of stones, some of its top stones had fallen and were strewn on the ground of dry grass and alpine plants so flattened by weather and boots it was like a dense, tough carpet.
‘It’s a storm shelter?’ he said, squatting down inside it so the top of his head disappeared from view.
‘It is.’ Ally approached the wall, following its curve until she found Jamie crouched inside its protective arms. ‘Walkers caught unawares can pitch their bivvy inside and, hopefully, emerge unharmed when the storm passes.’
He looked oddly at home inside the little curve, already stretching his legs out before him. ‘Good spot for a picnic?’
Ally looked deeper into the pass. ‘Hmm, if you aren’t afraid of adders.’
Jamie sprung up. ‘Adders?’
‘I didn’t say there were any. I just mean, you’d have to poke about a bit with a stick in case there are some in there.’
