The Wedding Cake Tree (16 page)

‘I’m really sorry about earlier by the way,’ he said
softly, ‘who would have thought that a group of blokes would walk past?’

‘
Who indeed!’ I jibed, smiling.

‘
Seriously though, are you having a good time? Because I really want you to have a good time.’ I took the chocolate from him and thought for a second about my response.

‘
To be honest, since we met, my life has been catapulted into one long catastrophe after another.‘

H
e frowned.

‘To begin
with,’ I said, ‘I was blackmailed into a journey I didn’t want to do, and then trundled several hundred miles away from my home. I’ve missed out on a lucrative photo shoot and practically broken my wrist. I’ve stood in horror and watched a helicopter rescue a teenager from near death, and in addition to that I’ve nearly died of hyperthermia, twice. And finally, I’ve stood on a remote beach, wet through and practically naked I might add, in front of a group of strange men which is an unprecedented event in my life and something I’ll probably never recover from.’

Realising I was joking
, he tilted his head to one side and played with his ear lobe.

D
id he know this was an irresistible habit or what?

‘T
hat’s a “no” to having a good time, then?’ he asked, smiling.

‘
Well, wait a minute,’ I said. ‘I should also add that, for the first time in my life, I’ve seen
–
and fallen in love with
–
both the Yorkshire Dales and the Highlands, I’ve met an aunt I never knew I had, watched an osprey fishing in the wild and I’ve climbed a mountain. And, most importantly,’ I said, scrunching up my nose, ‘I’ve met you. So, in answer to your question, I’m having a wonderful time, Alasdair. Thank you for asking.’ With my speech complete, I stood on my tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek.

Clearly pleased with
my affectionate gesture, he smiled and said, ‘And we’re only halfway through. Aren’t you a little curious what else your mother has in store? I’m surprised you haven’t asked me.’

I laughed
. ‘Would you tell me if I asked?

He shrugged.

‘No.’

‘
Alasdair, if the past few days are anything to go by, then it’s perhaps best I don’t know what’s going to happen. Mum was right, it is much more fun to just go with it. And, to be honest, I’ve given up even
trying
to imagine what’s going to happen next.’

‘Good,’ he said with a cheeky grin, ‘because
you wouldn’t believe it anyway.’

We clambered into our sleeping bags, ready to settle down for a natter over the hot chocolate
–
Mum was right, sitting by a fire on a remote Scottish loch with a handsome man by your side was
extremely
romantic
–
when the sound of distant voices penetrated the silence. Our heads turned in the direction of the footpath. Although it was almost dark, there was just enough ambient light to see three figures heading down the path. As they got closer one of them cried out: ‘Grace! Alasdair! It’s us. We decided to camp with you guys after all!’

The boys seemed stressed when they arrived at the beach, but once their tents were built and they were huddled round the fire with Alasdair, they noticeably relaxed.

‘Anyone for a game of charades?’ Jamie
asked.

‘Charades? In the dark?’

‘Come on, Grace. No getting out of it now.’

Jamie was the first – and the last – to perform a cha
rade. No one else had the willpower to leave the warmth of their sleeping bag. We were just looking at each other in a ‘what now’ kind of a way, when Tom announced we could, perhaps, sing campfire songs, to which Jamie (Mr Good Ideas Club) said, ‘Grace could start us off.’

‘Okay, I tell you what,’ I said, with a surprising amount of confidence, ‘let’s sing
You Raise Me Up?
You’ll probably know it, everyone does. You’ll recognise it when I start.’

Alasdair looked positively gobsmac
ked when I offered to sing. I didn’t worry about how I sounded, or what the boys thought of me, but sang quietly so my voice wouldn’t resound throughout the glen. As I began the final chorus Simon began to sing and I harmonised with him. He had a soulful voice and we made quite a tuneful duet. Tom and Jamie applauded wildly and I caught Alasdair looking at me with what I thought was possibly growing affection. I was taken aback when I caught his gaze, as, just for a fleeting second, I knew without a doubt I had seen him before; was it the cap? The flashcard type memory left as soon as it arrived and Alasdair put a halt to the evening just as Tom chanted, ‘More
–
encore!

‘Time for shut
eye guys,’ Alasdair ordered and, without question, they stood and began to disperse. Jamie lingered, said thank you to Alasdair for rescuing Charlie, and bent down to place an affectionate peck on my cheek. Alasdair lifted his eyebrows in my direction as if to say ‘he’s got a crush on you,’ and shooed Jamie off to his tent.

‘You got the energy for a last hot drink?’ Alasdair asked, once we were finally alone again.

‘
Yes, great idea.’

I
jumped up to make the chocolate, but began to shiver once out of the sleeping bag.

‘
You’re cold, aren’t you?’ he asked, concerned.

‘
Just a little, I’ll be fine when I get back into my sleeping bag and drink my chocolate.’

‘
I’ll get the shemagh for you,’ he said, heading off towards the tent. I called him back.

‘
No need. I’ve already got it wrapped around my neck under my coat, remember?’

‘
Oh, well, wrap it around your head properly then, it’ll be more effective that way.’ I began to wrap it around my head but, not surprisingly, he took it gently from my grasp, knelt behind me and began to twist it into an Arabic turban.

‘
It was good of you to sing for them,’ he said softly.

‘
Maybe the mindfulness chat has rubbed off on me, or maybe I just felt like singing.’

I looked around the
glen while Alasdair returned to the warmth of his sleeping bag next to me. I thought of Mum.

‘
Do you think she’s here with us, Alasdair?’

‘
Rosamund, you mean?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
Drifting around us in spirit form and having some kind of influence over present events?’ he asked, a hint of sarcasm entering into his voice.

‘
I suppose that’s what I mean, yes.’

‘
No. I don’t believe in anything like that, sorry.’ His tone was fairly abrupt.             

‘
Well, I’m beginning to believe that there are other things going on that we mere mortals aren’t aware of.’

I
looked up at the stars and considered the might of the universe for a second until Alasdair burst my spiritual bubble.

‘
It’s just this location and the letters having an effect on you, not surprising really. Sorry Grace, but when you’re gone, you’re gone.’

I looked at him inquisitively.
‘Doesn’t it frighten you?’

‘
I try not to think about it.’

‘
Well it frightens
me
,’ I confessed. He remained silent but I continued and allowed my inner fears to come to the fore. ‘I find difficulty in coming to terms with the fact that, once you turn your toes up
’
—Alasdair smiled at my analog
y
—‘then that’s it, game over,
forever.
’

‘
It won’t matter because you won’t be alive to experience the feeling of loss. You’ll just be gone. It’s the ones who are left behind who have the difficult job.’ I wasn’t sure if he was making a general comment, or referring to my situation with Mum. I tried to explain further.

‘
But to know that one day all of the experiences we have had’—I glanced around the desolate glen—‘all the friendships made … it will all be over, no more life. Like I said,
that
frightens me.’ Typically, Alasdair tried to give me a solution to the problem.

‘
See the fear as a positive thing,’ he said brightly. ‘You wouldn’t be so worried about missing life when you’re gone if you weren’t enjoying it so much right now.’ I nodded in agreement. ‘Also, ask yourself this,’ he added. ‘Do you regret the life you didn’t live
before
you were born?’

‘
I’m sorry, I don’t follow.’

‘
Well, there was a whole heap of time that happened on earth before you came along, billions of years apparently, and you missed all of that, so—’

‘
Oh, I see. No, of course I don’t regret not being here, I wasn’t born yet.’

‘
If you look at death in exactly the same way
–
as life on earth you’re simply not around to witness, like the past
–
then it’s kind of the same principle surely.’

‘
Not really,’ I replied. ‘In the past I still
had my turn to come, still had all of this to look forward to.’

‘
Ah, but you weren’t in existence so, in actual fact, the concept of “looking forward” is something you simply couldn’t do.’

I knew what he meant but it was quite a cal
culated way to look at things nonetheless.

‘
Do you think Mum is going to tell me who my father is?’

He swirled
his hand in the sand. ‘Do you
want
her to tell you?’

‘
Yes, I think I do or, no, maybe not. Oh, I don’t know, mixed feelings I suppose.’ I looked down the length of the loch. ‘The thought of Mum revealing to me who my actual biological father is, I’m not sure how I feel about that.’

‘
What makes you think she’s going to tell you?’ he asked gently.

‘
Something she said in the very first letter. Oh, you haven’t read that one have you?’ He shook his head.

‘She said there were things I
need
to know, things she
has
to tell me, so I’m guessing it’s about my father. The reason I perhaps don’t want to know, why I’ve never been too fussed about pressing her for the detail, is that if I’m a product of a one-night stand or something even worse, I would rather not know, and it doesn’t look like I’m going to be Geoffrey’s does it? Some things are better left in the past, I think.’

Alasdair
lay back in his sleeping bag, rested his head in the sand and looked up to drink in the stars. I followed suit, and we lay there, like two cocooned caterpillars staring into the wonder of space.

It was the perfect mom
ent to say something profound, to really impress him with my undoubted spiritual symbiosis with the greater universe …

‘
Alasdair.’

‘
Yes?’

‘
There’s one thing I’ve never been able to work out about space.’

‘
What’s that?’ He turned to face me.

‘
My question is this. Which star, out of all those millions of stars’—I flung an arm out of the sleeping bag and into the atmosphere—‘is actually the North Star?
And,
’ I continued, ‘if a person gets lost and desperately needs to find the North Star to navigate by, how does that person find the damn thing if they don’t know where north is in the first place. It’s like the chicken and the egg scenario. I just don’t get it.’

Alasdair
smiled. It was a humouring smile; the kind of smile a teacher gives to the dimmest child in the class before trying to explain something.

‘
It’s simple – you just have to know which constellation it’s near to start with. And once you know how to find it, you can use the North Star to help with navigation because it’s the only star that remains constantly in alignment with north
–
true north that is. All the other stars appear to move as the earth turns, but the North Star stays in line with the North Pole, which is why it’s also called Polaris, which is why it doesn’t appear to move.’

‘
What?’

He laughed again.

‘Edge closer and I’ll show you.’

I shuffled towards him so our sleeping bags were touching.
He pointed to a constellation called the Plough (it looked more like a saucepan to me so he referred to it as ‘the saucepan’ after that).

‘And then if you use the edge of the saucepan
–
the opposite edge to the handle
–
as a sightline and look up to the first bright star, about five times the distance of the pan side, then you’ve found it, the North Star. Have you ever noticed if you lay still long enough, you get a tremendous sense of being on a planet that’s turning, being driven by forces way beyond our control? It’s quite comforting I suppose, having the North Star as a constant bearing in the universe.’