Chapter 24

The young girl tensed and turned to look downhill, senses questing for the source of the prescient tingle. A mist hovered over the lower ground, muting and distorting sounds. Ghostly figures moved towards her and she shivered apprehensively, her fingers tightening on her stick. The dim shapes transformed into mud caked older boys. Her heart and her breathing slowed. The whistle blew for the start of the second half. She turned away.

Trudging back to their changing rooms, the rugby squad recognised their school colours and stopped to shout encouragement to the girls on the hockey pitch. Alan Balfour watched the girl, his gaze intent. He became aware of someone shaking his arm.

“Is she not a bit young?” he was asked.

He dragged his eyes away from the young girl to challenge the grins of his team mates. After they looked away he focused his eyes again on the little, red haired, girl darting among the bigger girls like a sparrow among crows. A strange tingle of excitement ran up and down his spine. He gasped as she was knocked flat on her back by the jostling heavier girls, but she sprang immediately to her feet and charged back into the fray, her matchstick legs a blur.

The rest of the team left but Alan dallied, pushing his long fair hair away from his eyes to watch the girl break out from a melee with the ball and dodge nimbly past a number of opponents. She scored, and her team mates swarmed around her. Returning to her own half, she passed near Alan and flashed a smile to a woman in front of him who waved her arms and jumped up and down, her dark hair bobbing. The girl’s eyes swept past him then returned, touching him like a finger.

Time seemed to slow. With a strangely enhanced vision he examined the small face, the luminous green eyes fixed on him, the faint flaring of the nostrils with her breath, the beads of perspiration and the damp hair clinging to her forehead, the pattern of freckles round her nose and the lips changing from the curve of a smile into the slight downturn of uncertainty. He felt close to her as if … as if … he dragged his soaring thoughts back to watch. Curiosity turned to puzzlement in her eyes before she turned away. He sighed, watched for a while longer then belatedly followed his teammates. He imagined he felt her gaze on his back and turned quickly to look but caught only a flash of green eyes, as she turned her head. Puzzled, he made his way to the changing room.

The referee whistled for the end of the game and the girls straggled off to change, chattering, while their parents gathered in small groups discussing the match, the Edinburgh weather and the frequency of trains back to Dundee.

The little redhead came tearing out of her changing room, plaits flying, and calling behind her to one of her friends. She ran slap into Alan who was passing. She would have fallen had he not put his arm around her to gently steady her.

“Are you, all right?” he asked.

“Yes. Sorry,” she stuttered, glancing up at him.

As their eyes met, it was as if something deep within each of them stirred and looked out. A strange feeling of elation moved him. His hand reached out without his volition to touch her cheek. The young girl’s eyes widened. She put her hand over his and moved her cheek slightly as if she liked his touch. Secrets whispered around them, tantalising, but just out of reach.

The time was not yet ripe. The moment passed. With an embarrassed laugh he snatched back his hand. The girl smiled shyly and gazed up at him, her eyes questioning and innocent. He felt lost.

He desperately wanted to prolong the encounter but was aware of the dark-haired woman approaching, he tore his gaze away and hurried after his team mates. He turned to look at her one last time, puzzled, as if some future memory stirred inside him, then he smiled at her and joined his friends.

The dark-haired woman called, “Kirsty.” The call went unheeded. She followed her charge’s entranced gaze, and smiled.