AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Aye, I’m fine,” he says, sighing. “It’s been on the cards for a while. Me and Mary, we just weren’t right for each other. She’s a nice lassie and all, but she wisnae The One. We weren’t meant to be together.”
“Like Ben Affleck and J.Lo?” I suggest, trying to cheer him up.
“Well, no,” says McTavish. “Which is just as well, I suppose, because if ye try to put ‘McTavish’ and ‘McNamee’ together, ye still just end up wi’ McTavish.”
“Or McNamee.”
“Aye. But it was actually you and Jack I was thinking o’.”
“Me and Jack?” I’m confused. “But our couple name would have to be… ‘Jemerald’ I guess? That doesn’t really work either.”
“I’m no’ talkin’ aboot yer names,” says McTavish impatiently. “I’m talkin’ abootyou. Well, you and Jack. The way ye were obviously made for each other. That’s what I want. No’ some lassie who eats nothin’ but fish and willnae even let me watchNeighbourswhile I eat it.”
“You deserve someone who lets you watchNeighbours, McTavish,” I say, touched. “In fact, you deserve someone who’ll watch it with you. And one day you’ll find her. I just know it.”
He nods, unconvinced.
“I’m not sure Jack and I are exactly couple goals right now, though,” I admit. “We’re barely even talking.”
“Och, ye’ll get over it,” says McTavish. “Of course ye will. It’s just a blip, Emerald. You and Jack love each other. Anyone can see that. And if I were you, I’d be doing everything I could to hold on to that. Because ye never ken what’s around the corner, do ye?”
I have a feeling we’re not talking about his breakup with Mary any more, somehow.
“Is that all that’s bothering you, McTavish?” I ask tentatively. “You and Mary? It’s just, you don’t seem your usual self. Are you really heartbroken about it?”
“It isnae that,” he says, shaking his head. “I can live without Mary. It’s the other thing that’s the trouble.”
“The other thing?”
“Aye.” He pauses, and I suddenly get a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I havenae told anyone this,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the barn in front of us. “But we’re sellin’ the farm. I spoke to Da’ about it last night. We just cannae go on like this. We’re losing too much money.”
“But… but you can’t sell the farm,” I blurt, horrified. “McTavish, you can’t!”
The farm has been in the McTavish family for generations now, passed down from one son to the next; all the way to McTavish himself, who took over the running of it from his dad a few years ago, after his mother died. It’s the closest building to Mum and Dad’s cottage, which means I’ve known it my entire life. It’s just impossible to imagine another family living here and running it; or worse, pulling it down, or converting it to an Airbnb, which is what happens to most vacant buildings around here.
“We cannae keep it, Emerald,” McTavish says sadly. “I’ve tried everything. Da’ has, too. But nothin’ works. And the taxi business doesnae bring in much either — just pin money, really — so I cannae see a way around it. It’s just a money pit now. The house is fallin’ to bits, for one thing. The tractor keeps breaking down. That barn there needs a new roof.”
I look at the ramshackle building he’s pointing at, paint flaking from its bright red door.
“What’s in there, anyway?” I ask. “I don’t think I’ve ever been inside it in all the time I’ve known you.”
“I havnae either,” he says, shrugging. “Da’ willnae let anyone open it. Says he’s lost the key.”
“He’s lost thekey?” I say, incredulously. “For, what, over 30 years? And he can’t just get a new one cut? Or break down the door? Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult?”
“He doesnae want to,” McTavish tells me. “SayshisDa’ would have his hide if he opened it.”
I raise my eyebrows at this. McTavish’s Grandad is in his late nineties and lives in a nursing home on the outskirts of town. It’s hard to imagine him havinganyone’shide, let alone that of McTavish Senior, who used to absolutely terrify me as a child. And also as an adult, actually.
“Why don’t you ask Jack for a loan, then?” I say impulsively. “He’d help you. I’m sure he would.”
I am sure of this, as it happens. A few years ago, Jack bought a bit of land from McTavish — at the latter’s suggestion. Jack didn’t need the land, or particularly want it; he just did it to help McTavish get out of a tight spot without losing face. (And to make me happy, he told me later. How times have changed.) But now there’s no more land to sell; which makes the whole “Jack’s-grandad-potentially-conning-McTavish’s-out-of-land thing feel even more serious.
“I’m no’ asking Jack for a handout,” McTavish says firmly. “Ye ken how I feel about that. I might be poor, but I still have my pride. And Da’ would havemyhide if he thought I was goin’ cap-in-hand to the Laird.”
“But Jack wouldn’t see it like that,” I insist, making up my mind to ask Jack about it myself, if McTavish won’t do it. “He wouldn’t want you to lose the farm.Idon’t want you to lose the farm.”
“I dinnae want to lose it either,” he replies unhappily. “It’s been my whole life, Emerald. It’s my home, as well as my livelihood. My memories. It’s everything that matters. The last thing I want is to be the McTavish that couldnae keep it, when everyone before me managed it. But ye cannae get blood from a stone, can ye? So what else can I do?”
