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Mabel mumbled, ‘I don’t know, but too old to still be alive.’
A few minutes later, Mabel had gone for a lie-down on the couch in the back room, taking her cup of sweet tea with her.
Callum stared after her before turning to Marjorie. They were both seated by the counter at the back of the shop, a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits in front of them. ‘I’m sorry … what just happened?’
‘What happened, young man—’
‘It’s Callum.’
‘What happened, Callum, is that my sister thought she saw a ghost.’
Callum stared at Marjorie. ‘I remind her of someone?’
‘Oh, yes, without a doubt. It’s a wonder she didn’t actually have a heart attack!’
Callum grimaced and looked at her apologetically. ‘Sorry.’
‘Oh, my dear, it’s not your fault that you look the spitting image of Douglas.’
‘Douglas?’
‘Yes, he was my sister’s sweetheart many years ago, but she married someone else.’
‘I guess she never forgot her first love.’
‘Apparently not.’ Marjorie stared at him. ‘I still can’t get over the resemblance – it’s uncanny. He was Scottish too, you know.’
‘Was he? What was his surname?’
‘It was a long time ago. Let me think. I’m sure it will come to mind.’ Marjorie blinked. ‘MacFadden – that was it!’
Callum shrugged. ‘I’m afraid that name doesn’t ring any bells.’
‘Do you know he said he owned a Scottish estate – a castle, I think. Or was it a manor house?’ Marjorie shrugged. ‘I forget. It was a long time ago. But I do remember he was a Scottish laird; at least, that’s what he’d said. Although he seemed sincere, I’m not sure I believed him, and neither did our father.’
Callum got the picture. They probably thought he was just saying that to impress Mabel.
Marjorie lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. ‘My little sister was so young, you see, only seventeen. There was quite an age gap, too.’
Callum stared at her. ‘I see.’ It sounded as though any chance of Mabel having a future with Douglas had been out of her hands. ‘Well if he was a Scottish laird with a castle, or a manor house, we are definitely not related. I grew up on a council estate in Edinburgh.’
Marjorie smiled. ‘It probably wasn’t true, in any case.’
‘But it might have been,’ said Callum. ‘You’ll never know.’
‘Yes, we’ll never know,’ Mabel added.
They both turned to look at Mabel.
Marjorie frowned at her sister, who was standing in the doorway to the back room. ‘I thought you were having a lie-down?’
‘I was. I did. But I heard you talking.’
Callum shook his head. ‘I am sorry for … well giving you a funny turn when you saw me.’
She walked up to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘You don’t have to apologise, Callum. They say everyone in the world has a doppelganger, don’t they?’
Callum smiled. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard that too. I guess I found mine, although I imagine that whoever invented that theory probably meant, you know, someone my own age – not someone from another generation, who’s dead.’ Callum stared at her, wide-eyed. ‘Sorry, that was a thoughtless thing to say.’
