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‘Yes, I think she should. But it’s her decision.’ June looked over the rims of her reading glasses, which were halfway down her nose, at Carrie. ‘Let things happen in their own time, Dan. Don’t rush the girl.’
‘I’m not!’ Dan protested. ‘I mean, I am horribly understaffed, but that’s beside the point.’
‘Yes, it is.’ June gave him a firm look. ‘Carrie, you make your own decision in your own time. Don’t let Dan talk you into it if you’re not sure or you’re not ready.’
‘June? Do you really think I could do it?’ Carrie asked the older woman. She trusted June. Yes, she could make her own decisions, but she valued June’s opinion.
‘Yes, you would make a wonderful nurse, Carrie. You just need to believe in yourself a little.’ June smiled at her gently. ‘Just like with the solos. You didn’t think you could do it, but I gave you a little push, and now look at you. Belting it out better than Bonnie herself.’
‘That’s hardly true,’ Carrie laughed. ‘But, yes, I do see what you mean. I do feel more confident, nowadays. And the singing has really helped.’
‘You’ve really blossomed.’ June nodded, briskly. ‘I think Loch Cameron was just what you needed. Goodness knows you needed some peace and quiet and a place to start again, after what happened to you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you now. Don’t forget that.’
‘I won’t, June.’ Carrie nodded, feeling happily tearful. June gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder.
‘Now, now. You’ll be all right. Dan, come and get some cake. I made your favourite.’ She led Dr Dan over to the refreshments table. ‘And you, miss. There’s enough for everyone,’ June called, in that no-nonsense way she had.
‘Just coming,’ Carrie replied. It didn’t do to disobey June – but, of course, she always knew best.Maybe one day I could be like her, Carrie thought as she followed Dan. June was an inspiration. And it felt good to be inspired.
THIRTY-ONE
The bar of the Loch Cameron Inn was really the only place in the village to meet anyone for coffee, now that Myrtle’s Café was closed. Carrie felt she’d missed out on not visiting Myrtle’s because, from the outside, it certainly looked like an interesting place when she’d passed by on her way to the community centre for choir, or to the shops for provisions. The wooden door was painted red, but boasted a glass panel featuring a rising sun over water, and a rainbow beyond it. The café windows were a patchwork of coloured squares of glass joined by black lead piping: cornflower-blue, rose-pink and bottle-green glass reflecting the loch. Carrie had peered inside the door out of curiosity one day and seen four sets of mismatched tables and chairs, and the walls seemed to be covered in shelves full of millinery heads wearing hats, as well as postcards and books.
Carrie remembered the place when it had been Len’s barber shop. She thought of her Great-Aunt Maud and how, perhaps, she’d wanted Carrie and Claire to know Len, and had taken them there. Carrie really didn’t remember much about those visits, apart from the barber shop chairs and the strange glass in the windows. Again, she thought about how sad it was that she had missed out on knowing Len.
‘Thanks for coming.’ Carrie stood up as Graham entered. She’d considered inviting him to the cottage, but it had felt too personal. She wanted this meeting to be on neutral ground rather than anywhere that reminded her of Claire. This was going to be a difficult enough conversation.
‘Hi, Carrie. Thanks for the invite.’ Graham looked around him at the wooden bar and the tartan-topped stools, at the crackling fire in the fireplace, and nodded at Eric, who was wiping down the bar. Graham planted an awkward kiss on her cheek. ‘This is quite a place! I’ve never been to the village, even though Claire and I always wanted to come. She told me all about it. She had very fond memories of the place from when you were kids.’
They went to the bar, and Eric smiled warmly at Carrie. ‘Cannae keep away, Carrie. What’ll it be?’
‘I’ll just have a lime and soda, thanks, Eric. This is Graham, he’s my sister’s… fiancé,’ she added, to be polite.
Eric beamed at Graham. ‘Ah, family, is it? Yer most welcome. What can I get ye?’
‘A pint of lager. Thanks.’
Graham leaned a little on the bar; Carrie could tell he felt awkward, and so did she.
‘So,’ she said, trying to marshal her thoughts a little.
‘So…’ Graham nodded, smiling shyly. ‘Thanks for replying. I didn’t think you would, if I’m honest.’
‘Well, I got there in the end.’ Carrie thanked Eric for her drink with a smile and took a sip. ‘Shall we sit at one of the tables? The chairs are comfier.’
‘Sure.’ Graham accepted his pint from Eric and they settled themselves at one of the low tables with aged brown leather armchairs.
‘Well, first, I want to say I’m sorry.’ Carrie took in a deep breath as she started the speech she’d prepared. ‘I was awful to you and you didn’t deserve it.’
‘Well, thanks. I appreciate that.’ Graham sipped his pint. ‘But, if I can interrupt you for a minute, I do understand. Particularly since Claire… passed.’ He took a deep breath and Carrie could see how difficult the conversation was for him. ‘Nothing about that has been easy. And I should have reached out to you more. I didn’t come and see you in the hospital, because I was… in shock, I guess. But you were seriously injured, and grieving just as much as I was. I should have looked after you. It was my responsibility.’
‘I didn’t let you, Graham. I wouldn’t have let you anywhere near me if you’d have tried.’ Carrie smiled, wryly. ‘You know that.’
‘I know, but you lost her too. And I know how close you were,’ Graham sighed. ‘We wanted… when Claire and I got together, she made it very clear to me that you guys were incredibly close, and that she wanted you and me to have a good relationship. When it turned out that you didn’t want that, she was really broken-hearted. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… that was too much.’ He looked down at the table. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I get it. I know how much you miss her.’
‘I do miss Claire. There’s not a day that I don’t, and I don’t think there ever will be. She was everything to me,’ Carrie began, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘But I shouldn’t have been so awful to you both. I was… I was jealous. Claire had always been... well, it was just the two of us. That was how it was, always. We lost our mum, Dad was terrible and basically ignored us after that; we lost our great-aunt, and by the time we were old enough to come up here and visit her ourselves, she’d died. Neither of us ever had a serious boyfriend before Claire and you got together. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. I felt like I was losing her.’
‘You weren’t.’ Graham looked up, sadness in his eyes. ‘You never lost her. She loved you so much. It really hurt her that you pulled away like you did over the past two years.’
