In The Garden Of Stones (25 page)

“
I thought maybe changed your mind or … had a
relapse.”

“
No. I was there, but they wouldn’t let me in without a
visitor’s pass. If it hadn’t been for Corporal Bob on the gate
having a bit of a thing going with the young woman behind the desk,
I wouldn’t have got past the main barrier at all. She said I might
be able to make an exceptional visit if I had permission from your
next of kin, which I didn’t because I didn’t know who they were,
because you haven’t told me. She did though, and after a little
wheedling from yours truly … she made a call to your
brother.”

Colin
stops prodding at the stinking pile. “She called Lucas?”

“
Yes. Obviously he’d never heard of me, so of course he said
no–”

“
He would.”

“
But we didn’t give up. She gave me some forms to fill in
instead, although she did warn me it could take up to six weeks
because I’d have to be vetted and referenced to prove I can be
trusted. I don’t have a criminal record, but unfortunately I do
have a pretty poor track record as regards mental illness, which
could very well be a black mark against me–” She pauses and frowns.
“I wonder if I can get Dr Mal to put in a good word for me. His
professional opinion might carry some weight. Then again he hasn’t
known me that long, and we did have a falling out, so I’m not going
to put all my eggs in that particular basket … which doesn’t leave
me much choice. You won’t like it, but I’m going to have to do
it.”

Colin
gives her a sideways look. “Do what?” When the penny drops, he
looks at her aghast. “Ach no! Please tell me ye’re no thinking of
calling Lucas yerself?”

“
It had crossed my mind.”

“
Ye canna!”

“
Why not? If he can give permission, I don’t see
why–”

“
NO!”

“
Why not?”

“
Because I say so.”

“
It may have escaped your notice Captain McLeod, but I
am
not
one of your underlings. You can’t issue orders to
me.”

He draws
himself upright and lifts his chin. “Then I will ask you to
seriously reconsider your decision,” he says, his words clipped and
incisive.

“
Not unless you can give me one damned good reason why I
should.” Grace spreads her hands, inviting his answer, and gets
nothing. “Thought not. I don’t see why we should have to wait for a
full six weeks only to get a downright refusal at the end when
there’s a perfectly viable alternative at our fingertips that could
get it sorted so much quicker.”

Colin
huffs and returns to stabbing the fork deep into the compost
heap.

Time for a little bluff calling,
Grace thinks,
because sometimes you have to
be cruel to be kind
.

She hops
down off the wall she’s been sitting on. “So that’s it then,” she
says, dusting off her backside. “You’ve made an executive decision,
and as far as you’re concerned that’s an end to it. Well, fine. At
least I tried so don’t blame me if I don’t come at all.” She pushes
past him and sets off toward the gate.

“
What? No!” Colin throws down the fork and chases after her.
“Grace, please – wait!” He grabs the back of her top, tugging her
to a halt and turning her around. “That’s no' what I meant.” He
scrubs his hand through his hair, making the curls stand awry. “Ye
don’t know Lucas like I do. He canna be trusted ta keep his word.
Never has. He’ll string ye along with false promises and then let
ye down at the last minute, jest like he’s been doin’ all his life.
I don’t want ye putting yerself ta unnecessary trouble, getting yer
hopes up and ending up with nothing but bitter
disappointment.”

“
Like more time will make any difference,” she says. “I
think you’re being very unfair, to me and to Lucas. I would have
thought you would have jumped at the chance of speeding up the
process.”

“
I would… I want ta, but no if it means –”

“
Anyone would think you were
trying
to make things difficult.”

“
I’m no' –”

“
Unless deep down you really don’t want me to visit you and
I’ve just given you the perfect excuse.”

“
No! I want ye ta, I really do, but …” He gives the nervous
twitch of his head Grace has come to associate with him having
difficulty expressing what’s on his mind.

“
Come on. Spit it out,” she says. “My planning to talk to
your brother is not what’s upset you, is it?”

He
screws up his eyes and turns his face from her. “No.”

“
So what is?”

He looks
her dead in the eyes. “What’s gain ta happen if ye do come and ye
don’t like what you see when you get there?” He puts his hands on
her shoulders. “I’m a mess, Grace. The handsome devil you see afair
ye now is long gone. I don’t want ye ta be –”

“
What? Disgusted? Shocked? Feel sorry for you?”

He
nods.

And
there she has it. She lays her hand against his cheek. “Beauty, as
they say, is in the eye of the beholder, Colin,” she says softly.
“So give me the chance to behold you first before I make that
decision, eh?”

She sits
on the edge of her bed with her phone in one hand, the scrap of
paper with Lucas McLeod’s telephone number scribbled on it in the
other.

Once she
has organised what she wants to say, she pecks out the number on
the keypad.

The
phone is answered on the fifth ring with a gruff,
“Hullo.”

“
Hello,” she says. “Can I speak to Lucas McLeod
please?”

“
Speakin’.”

“
You don’t know me, my name is Grace Dove–”

“
I dinnae care wit yer sellin', I’m no buyin', so ye can
save yer breath fer coolin’ yer porridge.”

If
anything, his Aberdonian accent is even stronger than Colin’s. This
apple hasn’t fallen far from the teuchter tree either.

“
I’m not selling anything, Mr McLeod. I–”

“
Hud oan a mintie,”
he says
. “Grace Dove?”
A short pause
. “Someb’dy called the other day from
Pelham Chase and used that name. Something ta dae wi wantin’ ta
visit wi oor Colin. Is that yoo?
”

“
Yes, that’s me. The receptionist agreed to ring on my
behalf, to get your permission. Unfortunately you refused me, so
she gave me your number, thought I might like to talk to you
myself, to make a … personal request.”

“
Ye’re no military then?”

“
No.”

“
So jest how is it ye come ta ken ma brother? Ye one of his
fancy women?”

“
Certainly not!”

“
Then again, ye would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“
I am not military, and I am not a fancy woman. I’m just a
friend.” Sigh. “It’s quite a long and complicated tale Mr McLeod,
and not suited to the telephone. Is there any possibility I could
meet with you and have a chat face to face? It really is quite
important.”

Lucas
McLeod stays in Kincorth, also known as the 'garden estate', a
suburb of Aberdeen south of the river renowned for its wide roads
and open green areas.

As Grace
is on the west side, in Ferryhill, they arrange a mutually
convenient place somewhere in the middle, the Costa coffee shop in
Union Square shopping centre.

They
make their introductions, take a table in a quiet corner with their
lattés, and date and walnut flapjacks. After a period of small
talk, during which Lucas tells her about his wife and kids and
work, they come to the real reason for their being there – Colin;
about his childhood, his growing up and leaving home to join the
army at the earliest opportunity, and his subsequent successful
rise through the ranks.

“
It was the making of him,” Lucas says. “Took to it like a
duck ta water. Jest goes ta show that ye don’t have ta be rich and
privileged to be officer material. He worked hard fer it though,
earned it. I’m told he had a natural flair for leadership and his
men admired and trusted him. Would have followed him to the ends of
the Earth. Turns out some of them did.”

He
reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and takes out his
wallet, extracts several small pieces of paper and hands them over
to Grace. They are newspaper cuttings with photographs of Colin and
his regiment, resplendent in their uniforms prior to being deployed
to Afghanistan for their first tour. Another reported their return
safe and well; another, Colin’s promotion. The last, however, is
filled with head shots of the fallen and wounded, Colin among
them.

“
I haven’t seen these before,” says Grace.

“
You can keep them. I have plenty more.”

Grace
thanks him and folds the cuttings carefully and tucks them into her
bag.

“
You’re welcome.” Lucas McLeod’s smile is forced and tight.
“I just wish...” His shoulders slump and he sighs deeply. “I just
want him to get better, be like he was,” he says. “But I know it’s
never going to happen, and I feel so guilty at not being able to
support him in his time of need. I’m just so bloody useless when it
comes to things like this. I don’t know what to do. He’s a bloody
hero, and I’m just a … hopeless, yellow bellied,
coward.”

“
That’s not true,” Grace says. “It’s a difficult situation
for anyone to be in. Not everyone can cope. It’s not your
fault.”

“
We never got on as kids,” he says. “We fought like cat and
dog all the time and I suppose it was on the cards that we would
drift apart, but not like this. I keep telling myself to remember
him as a fit young lad, playing fitba, bumming a fag behind the
bike shed, drinking lager and chasing the quines down by the cut,
because the thought of him like he is now, my little brother, that
cocky wee swine … blown up, burned, scarred and limbless, it’s
too–” He swallows hard. “I sometime think he’d be better off dead.
Oh God –”

And
suddenly it’s all too much for him and he bows his head and cries
with silent secret sobs. Grace reaches over the table and takes his
hand. After a while he presses the heels of his hands into his
leaking eyes, then blows his nose into a napkin.

“
You must think me a heartless selfish bastard,” he says,
his voice choked and hoarse.

“
No, Mr McLeod. I think it’s a very natural reaction. I
understand perfectly.”

“
I canna go and see him,” he says. “I’ve tried, but I canna.
If I did, if I saw him, I’d fall apart and be nae use to anyone. I
talk to the staff on the phone, check up on him regularly, although
I told them not ta tell him.”

She thinks back to what Mal had told her, that Alec had
been checking up on her while she languished in the Psych Ward, and
how comforted she felt when she found out because it meant that at
least one person in the world
did
care about her and her welfare.

“
No, they
should
tell him,” she says. “He should know that somebody outside
is thinking about him. He’d appreciate knowing and it would make
him feel less … alone.”

“
Aye, mebbe.” Lucas looks across the table at her, his eyes
bloodshot, red rimmed and filled with sadness and regret. “You tell
him then, when ye see him. Tell him I’m thinking about
him.”

“
I’d love to… but I can’t,” she says. “The centre won’t let
me in without a pass and because I’m not family I can’t get one
without permission... from you.”

“
Then I give it, wholeheartedly. Tell them I said
so.”

“
Not that simple. They need it in writing. There are some
forms –”

“
Have you got them with you?”

“
Yes.”

He
pushes his coffee and plate aside. “Give them to me,” he says, and
holds out his hand.

She digs
the paperwork out of her handbag and passes it over. He reads
through each sheet in concentrated silence, borrows a pen from her
and spends a few minutes filling in the various boxes, signing and
dating the bottom of each with a flourish.

“
There ye go,” he says, passing them back to her. “Go visit
wi Colin wi my blessing. Do what you can for him and tell him...
tell him –” He clears his throat. “Tell him I’m sorry and –” His
voice falls to a barely audible whisper. “I love him.”

Chapter 26

It’s a
cool and calm afternoon in the hut. Colin is sitting on the floor,
back against the cot, reading a book.

Grace is
cross-legged on the bed, darning one of his socks, tongue poking
out the corner of her mouth in concentration as she weaves the
needle steadily between the threads.

“
You are very much alike you and Lucas, aren’t you?” she
says, examining her work. “Like two peas in a pod. Same eyes, same
hair, same ear twisting speech pattern –”

Colin is
staring at her, his brows pulled together in a deep scowl. “Ye’ve
seen him?”