For a moment Liv wasn’t sure if it was her head playing tricks but as Fraser strode towards her, she knew it was him. Although he was even hotter in real life. He was certainly beefier than she’d imagined. He had the faintest smile on his lips, but he was coming straight at her with an outstretched fist and she panicked. She felt vulnerable sitting on a chair, so she jumped to her feet once he was within arm’s reach. Pain shot through her ankle and she immediately hopped onto the good leg, accidentally kicking the long spear-like object. She watched it, in what seemed like slow motion, as it fell, striking Fraser on the head.
‘Pissing hell!’ he said grabbing the pole before it hit anything else.
‘Careful,’ yelled Dolly somewhat belatedly. ‘That’s a genuine Scots pike from the Battle of Pinkie Cleugh.’
Liv was none the wiser about what the thing was other than bloody lethal and she was now face to face with a cross-looking Fraser. What was going to happen? Her heart thumped almost as hard as her head and ankle. But in that moment it felt like it was exactly the right time to start being the person she wanted to be.
‘What the hell did you do that for?’ he said touching his head and checking his hand for blood – thankfully there wasn’t any.
‘I didn’t do it on purpose.’ Liv tried to take the weapon from him to put it back against the wall but he wasn’t letting go.
‘English?’ said Fraser, taking a step back as if she’d announced she had leprosy mixed with a raging dose of bubonic plague.
‘She can’t help that,’ said Effie. ‘Can I have the ice?’ she asked.
Fraser returned the pike to where it had been, all the while keeping a watch on Liv.
‘You can have half the ice,’ said Fraser to Effie, unwrapping what he was carrying in his hand and reluctantly handing half of the contents to her along with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. ‘I need the rest now she’s tried to brain me.’ He glared at Liv. Instead of being intimidated she was surprised. How did he not recognise her? He was looking right at her. The profile picture she’d used was from last summer when her hair had been highlighted and she’d made an effort with some make-up. Maybe it was a best version of herself, unlike the wet and bedraggled version in front of him now, but the photograph did look vaguely like her, unlike so many of the men she’d encountered on dating apps. Why wasn’t he frantically pointing at her saying: You’re Olivia Bingham! Or was this his poker face? She was so confused. What was going on?
‘Shouldn’t something like this be on a wall where it can’t hurt anyone?’ asked Liv, checking the pole couldn’t fall over again.
‘It may have escaped your notice but this place is in need of repair.’ He looked at her like she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box.
Liv glanced around at her surroundings: damp patch on the ceiling, peeling wallpaper, and a threadbare tartan carpet. On the wall above them was a single bracket and a mark on the wallpaper in the shape of a long pointy pole.
‘I’m guessing it fell off the wall and nobody’s put it back.’
‘Got it in one. You’re smarter than the average Sassenach.’
‘What did you call me?’ She’d not stand there and be called names. Especially now she was being the new improved Liv. That Liv wouldn’t dodge being insulted.
‘It just means an English person,’ said Effie, stepping between the two of them. ‘We should get this ice on your head.’
Liv and Fraser went to sit on the same chair. Liv got there first, but as she sat down hard her wet clothes emitted a strange wet fart-like sound. Fraser huffed and sat on a chair to the side and fixed his glare on her. Still not even a flicker of recognition. Had he taken a much harder thump to the head than it seemed or was she that easily forgotten?
Effie wrapped the ice in the cloth and placed it gently on Liv’s head.
‘Thanks,’ said Liv.
‘You’re welcome.’
Everyone was silent but Liv felt like all eyes were on her.
‘Who is she exactly?’ Fraser looked at Dolly for an answer.
‘Lass has bumped her head and does nay know who she is,’ replied Dolly.
‘It’s amnesia,’ said Effie. ‘She had a run-in with Ginger in the yard and she banged her head really badly. Did you not hear her scream?’
‘I heard something. I thought it might be an owl.’
‘I think I’ve done all I can,’ said Robbie. ‘I’ll leave you good people. If there are any issues.’ He indiscreetly pointed a finger in Liv’s direction. ‘Then just give me a call. Goodnight, everyone.’ He strode off creating a bit of a draught as he passed, and Liv shivered.
‘She was sitting in a puddle when I rescued her. She can’t remember who she is. I’ve left a message for the Doc,’ said Effie.
‘Amnesia?’ Fraser snorted a laugh. ‘Really?’
‘Well if I don’t know who I am, maybe you do,’ said Liv jutting out her jaw in challenge. She was fast warming to the new ballsy Liv.
‘Not a clue,’ said Fraser.
Effie gasped. ‘Maybe you’ve got amnesia too.’
‘No, I’m fine,’ said Fraser kindly. ‘What was she doing in the yard?’
Dolly wheeled herself forward. ‘We think she’s a lost tourist. Probably a wee dram and a good night’s sleep will bring more answers in the morning.’ She turned her scooter towards Effie. ‘It’s late. You’d best get me home,’ she said as she disappeared up the hallway.
‘Here you go,’ said Effie, passing Liv the ice bundle.
‘Hang on!’ Fraser got to his feet. ‘What’s happening with her?’ He pointed towards Liv like she were an item of lost property.
This was the point where she should say she could sleep in her car or she’d get a hotel room but seeing as she wasn’t meant to know who she was, she was limping and she’d lost her phone when she fell – she was a bit stuck.
‘You live in a hotel, Fraser,’ said Dolly. ‘You work it out.’
‘But she can’t stay here,’ he said.
‘I can’t stay here,’ repeated Liv standing up and wobbling slightly. She stopped herself from reaching for the pike as support.
‘Why not?’ asked Effie. Fraser also turned to give Liv a questioning look despite what he’d just said.
‘Because… he’s a stranger.’ Liv pointed at Fraser.
‘No, he’s not,’ said Effie with a laugh. ‘He’s my cousin Fraser.’
Liv leaned forward to whisper. ‘But I don’t know him.’ She hoped her expression underlined her point.
‘But I do,’ said Effie, with an earnest nod. ‘He’s sound, is Fraser. You’ll be grand. But watch out for Janet.’
‘Who’s Janet?’ asked Liv.
Effie’s eyes widened and her expression took on a theatrical quality.
‘Janet was a local woman who made herbal potions for the sick. But after a few people died she was tried as a witch and strangled on the shores of the loch. At night you can hear her ghost wailing,’ she said. ‘Legend has it that she is looking for another poor soul to replace her so that she can return to the living.’
‘Okay, wasn’t expecting that,’ said Liv. She didn’t scare easily but that was one creepy tale.
‘I have to go.’ Effie pointed up the hall after Dolly. ‘Bye,’ she added cheerily.
‘Thanks a bunch!’ called Fraser as Effie strode after the scooter.
They returned to their respective seats; Liv lowered herself down more carefully this time to avoid any embarrassing noises. They sat in silence. This was awkward.
‘They say that an Englishman’s home is his castle and you actually live in one,’ she said.
‘I’m not an Englishman. I’m a Scot.’
‘Whoops, sorry. No offence.’ But she had a nasty feeling he was very much offended. They sat in silence for a moment. Liv decided that perhaps she should swap her ice to her ankle as that was still throbbing too. She rolled up the leg of her soggy jumpsuit, and undid her boots, revealing a very puffy ankle. She reached down and held the ice in place. She heard Fraser huff. She looked up and he was watching her.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘I don’t like being in this situation any more than you do.’
‘Here,’ he said getting up and handing her his ice. ‘If you’re stopping…’ He paused, probably in the hope that she would contradict him but she didn’t so he continued. ‘Then I’ve things I need to sort out. I’ll lock up, so we don’t get any more intruders.’ She tried not to react to his pointed comment. ‘And then we’ll go to bed.’
Bloody hell, he doesn’t waste any time, thought Liv, more than outraged.
‘Not so fast!’ Liv was on red alert. If she hollered would the other women still hear her? ‘I don’t need a place to stay that badly. I’ll sleep in the rain with the bull or cow or whatever it is, if I have to. But I am not sleeping with you!’ She wondered for a moment if this had been his plan all along. Ghost her and get her to track him down then she was at his mercy. Or was that just her tired brain overreacting?
‘Stop!’ Fraser held up his palm. ‘Not go to bed with me. I meant I’ll fix you somewhere to sleep. Trust me, it will be nowhere near me. All right?’
Liv felt a bit foolish. ‘Oh I see. I thought… you know… I’m all a bit woozy and extra wary. Sorry.’
‘Forget it. If you want a dram, there’s whisky in the cabinet in the library. It’s good for shock.’ He pointed down the corridor to the left before heading in the opposite direction and leaving her alone.
‘Thanks,’ she said but he’d already gone. She waited a couple of minutes as the ice was easing her ankle, but her curiosity got the better of her and she decided to go and investigate the library. It sounded very grand. She got to her feet easily enough but her ankle was unhappy and she didn’t want to aggravate it more, so she virtually hopped up the hallway, moving from one piece of ancient furniture to the next for support.
She pushed open the door. The room was dark. She felt for a switch and found an old-fashioned metal one. Above her a chandelier sparkled into life. She blinked at the brightness. The initial dazzle soon faded as she noticed the many missing crystals and damaged state the light fitting was in. Looking around the room, she saw that the chandelier wasn’t the only thing with bits missing. Some faded but fancy-looking chairs huddled around a redundant fireplace. The room was lined with dark wood bookcases; there were a few rows of dusty encyclopaedias and a row of cloth books that she’d never heard of but there wasn’t a single normal book in sight. At one end of the room was a large built-in cabinet in the same dark wood; so dark it was almost black. She made her way towards it and was grateful to grip its ornate beaded edge for support. That was until with a small creaking sound the beading came away in her hand.
‘Shit,’ she muttered as she held on tight with her other hand. This place was a death trap. She tugged open a drawer, which was full of papers that were keen to escape their confines and seemed to burst free. ‘Bloody hell!’ She rammed them back, popped in the piece of beading and shut the drawer quickly. Bottles weren’t going to be in there anyway. Her mind was a mush. She opened the cabinet-style door below and was met by the smell of old alcohol; like it had seeped into the very structure of the cabinet. She crouched down as best she could and peered inside. There was something that looked like a shiny silver fire extinguisher, a glass in the shape of a skull and a bottle of whisky. She pulled out the bottle. A bit of rummaging in the other side of the cabinet uncovered a tumbler. Usually Liv wasn’t a spirits drinker but Fraser had said it was good for shock and she’d definitely had one of those. She poured herself a small measure of the honey-coloured liquid. She gave it a sniff. It smelled a bit like TCP.
Leaning against the end of the cabinet she looked around. It was a big room and quite chilly but that was likely because her wet clothes were sticking to her. There were high ceilings and ornate cornicing, which was still pretty, even if some bits were missing. She would have loved to have seen it when the shelves were full of books and could imagine this was quite a grand room in its day. Straight ahead was a large window and a padded window seat with cushions. She wondered what the view was like. All she could see out of the wet window now was darkness. She left the safety of the cabinet and hobbled over to the window and sat down. There were large white-painted wooden panels on either side of the window that she supposed were shutters.
Liv swirled the liquid in the glass and watched it adhere to the side. She peered through the window and knocked back the whisky. The harsh liquid hit the back of her throat, making her gasp. With that a hairy ginger face loomed out of the darkness.
‘Argh!’ she yelled as best she could as the whisky seemed to have stolen her voice.
She heard the thud of Fraser’s feet before he came flying into the library. ‘What did you do now?’ he asked, scanning her and the room.
She pointed at the window, which was being licked clean by a very large pink tongue.