THE BEETLE PULLED UP THE drive to Lisa’s. f**k me, it was a f*****g mansion. Well, maybe not quite – but it was a sizable chunk of stone, slate, and glass. Lisa told me it’d been the manse of a local church. When her folks bought it, they spent a considerable amount of time and money renovating it. It showed. Beautiful, man. At the side was a two- car garage – a new addition, built with the same materials as the house. Half in and half out was a red Jag. Lisa’s dad was polishing the long bonnet. We parked and got out; her dad walked towards us with a big friendly smile. Lisa looked nothing like him. Tall and fit looking, balding, his hair shaved close and a well-maintained goatee. He looked good in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of Adidas trackie bottoms. He wore brown moccasin slippers from Marks and Spenser’s – Lisa had bought me a pair and I loved them. Comfy as f**k.
She hugged him, kissed his cheek, and dragged me forward. Feeling nervous, I smiled, lips stretched and teeth on show.
“Dad, this is Calum.”
I loved the way she said my name. Nobody said it like her.
With an outstretched hand, he said, “Pleased to meet you Calum, I’m Andy.”
What a f*****g grip he had. Probably from shaking hands on all the property deals he’d made.
“Thanks for having me. What a beautiful car.”
His car was a beauty. Lisa laughed – she knew what was coming next.
“You like?” asked Andy, looking at the car and me simultaneously.
“It’s a cracker. What year is it?” Like I’m some classic car buff.
“1964 E-Type Series 1 Coupe.”
“It’s a beauty, alright.”
With that, we forged a manly bond.
“Any chance of getting a hand with the bags?” said Lisa.
I grabbed our stuff from the Beetle. Lisa led the way into the vestibule and through a long hall, tastefully decorated and uncluttered. A sofa stretched across one wall, opposite, a massive old-fashioned central heating radiator.
“My room is up here.”
Like a footman carrying the lady of the manor’s bags, I climbed the stairs to the first landing. There was a door leading through to a self-contained apartment. s**t, your own flat – inside your house. Nice. Lisa said it was where the manse’s housekeeper lived. Three rooms, side by side. The last, her bedroom. There was a study-c*m-living room and a shower room. Nothing fussy. Just classy.
“Your folks are cool about me sleeping in your room?” “What do you think?”
She gave me that cheeky smile of hers. Killed me every
single time. I laughed. After taking off my trainers – I dived onto her big f**k-off bed. She joined me and put her head on my chest.
“There won't be any s*x this weekend,” I smiled.
“Says who?” she replied, lifting her head, and gazing at me.
“Me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t feel comfortable shagging a girl whose dad is less than twenty feet away. It’s one of the life rules I have.”
“It’s at least thirty feet... I bet you do have s*x this week- end.” She laughed – her hand cupped my trousered balls.
My turn to laugh.
She gave me a quick tour. The house was big, but it was cosy. The sound of a car engine drew us back outside. It was Maria, Lisa’s mum. I’d seen photos of her mum and dad in the kitchen of her flat, but nothing prepared me for meeting her mum in the flesh. She got out of a cherry red VW Golf MK1 GTI. A fast-wee bastard. The paint job was the exact same as the E-Type.
“Mum, this is Calum.”
Swear to God - I was stuck for words. Her mum was the spitting image of Lisa. I mean, they could’ve been twins. Taking my hand, she gave it a gentle squeeze, “Nice to meet you, Calum. Andy and I have heard so much about you.”
“All good I hope?”
“All good.”
Her smile oozed warmth.
“Thank you so much for letting me stay in your beautiful house,” I said.
(Smiles. Big. Three)
“Can I help with your shopping?” I asked.
“Lisa, you have him well trained.”
They both laughed.
“Mum, this is what Calum’s like.”
My neck reddened.
“It’s one of the reason’s I’m mad about him.”
Maria smiled and I felt a guilt dagger s***h at my heart.
Shopping bags in hand – I grinned my way to the kitchen. In the evening, we ate dinner on the patio. Inverness had given me a star-studded sky, and as the wine flowed, I felt very relaxed. Her folks were incredibly decent people, obviously well off, and like Lisa, they were unaffected by it. Maria told me her parents had been teachers. Andy’s mother had owned a haberdashery on the High Street. His father never made it back from World War II – killed in action in Burma. Lisa’s big brother Malcolm was named after him and was in the army – serving in Germany. Maria hoped I’d get to meet him when he was home on leave. Her folks took a genuine interest in me. They knew my dad was from Skye and got married in Glasgow. Lisa had told them about me living with my Granny in Uig and attending Portree High. Throughout the evening, I’d sneak a wee look at Lisa talking with her mum. Scary how alike they were – and I don’t just mean physically. They both shared the same mannerisms. It was easy to see why Andy fell for her. I felt lucky to be sharing an evening with the three of them – it was a great night. Offering to do the washing up, I collected the dishes.
Maria refused.
“You’re our guest. Andy will do it.”
With that, Andy smiled, gave me a wink, and took the plates from me – Marie followed him through to the kitchen leaving me and Lisa, sitting, holding hands. The trees at the bottom of the garden swayed in the breeze, dancing to an unheard tune. Although the garden was massive, it was simple. Lawn, bushes, trees. Nothing too fancy. Easy to main- tain, f**k – I’d suddenly become a f*****g gardener.
“What would you like to do tomorrow?”
“I’m easy.”
“Maybe too easy.”
(Laugh. Her. Cute)
“I fancy a band. Let’s hit a pub.”
‘Ok, tell you what, I will take you for a greasy brunch at the Castle Restaurant, then we can go to the Phoenix. They always have great music.”
“Cool.”
Finishing our drinks, we made our way inside and upstairs to bed.
“Night night,” she shouted to her folks.
“Goodnight, guys,” said Andy.
“Night, darling,” said Maria.
“Is she calling me darling?” I smiled.
“Your mother’s a good-looking woman.”
“Perv,” said Lisa.
She wasn’t wrong.
“You want to shower first?” she asked.
This isn’t a big f*****g deal but one of the many things I truly, deeply, loved about her was she always thought of me first.
“No, you go.”
Stripping off, I lay on the bed and listened to her shower – she was humming a tune I couldn’t quite make out. After showering, we held each other. She was talking about her brother, and before I knew it, I was out.
I woke up alone and disorientated. The fog in my brain cleared, my bearings returned, and I wondered where Lisa was. I showered and wandered down the stairs to the kitchen. I stood just out of view – listening to Lisa and Maria chatting for a minute or two. Not creepy like, intrigued.
“So, what do you think of Calum, Mum?”
“Darling, he seems nice. As long as he makes you happy, that’s all I care about.”
“He does.”
I beamed a smile and felt a stab of guilt in my gut.
“Morning ladies.”
I got two beautiful smiles in return.
We strolled into town. She talked about her school days at the Academy, and I was happy to listen. I’d forgotten how pretty Inverness looked as we walked along the banks of the Ness – its beauty on full display. In the Castle Restaurant, we sat at the window. It wasn’t a fancy-pants place; Lisa hung out there as a teenager and she wanted to share her memories. It also served an all-day breakfast. Walking had given me an appetite, and I was ready for some grease.
Bloated and happy, we walked towards the river. We needed the exercise to make room for the beer we planned on drinking. The day was overcast, but not unpleasant. Whatever, it didn’t bother me as long as I was with my girl. We sat on a bench near the Castle –watching life go by. Looking over at the Ness Bridge, I saw an open-top tour bus cross-over with only one passenger sitting upstairs.
“So, what do you think of my home?”
“What, your house?”
“Not my house, you arse. Inverness.”
I laughed. Arse was about the strongest swear word she’d use. Unless she was annoyed.
“It’s peaceful and prettier than I remember.”
I might not make it as a travel writer, but it was the truth. Kissing her cheek, I whispered,
“What about the beer?”
She looked at me.
“Is that all you think about?”
I kissed her lips.
“Not all.”
I kissed her again. She did this thing when I gave her a lip peck. The tip of her tongue darted out, and if I was quick enough our tongues touched. Incredibly f*****g hot. She put her hand on my crotch and squeezed.
“That you will have to wait for.”
My Lisa. f*****g beautiful.
The Phoenix on Academy Street had live music on a Saturday afternoon. What type of music? I had no idea. Who cared? On the way there, she pointed out the Museum and Art Gallery and threatened to take me. We walked into the lounge. Inside looked pretty decent. One corner had a good- sized stage and a couple of guys were setting up their instruments. A pint of Tartan Special and a white wine in our hands, we found a table. My powers of deduction told me the Aran sweater-to-beard ratio was high, and I guessed we were in for some folk music. I wasn’t wrong. Four guys, two with beards, took the stage. Penny whistles, accordion, bodhran, and guitar. When they played, I was pleasantly surprised. I didn’t f*****g hate it. Lisa was right into it. I watched her, sipping her wine and thought how lucky I was to have found her. Loved that she liked folk music. I loved that her taste in music was eclectic. Loved that she loved music. I loved her.
After another pint, the beer buzz got my feet tapping along with the bearded crowd. I’d completed my transformation into a folk fan. The Tartan Special helped. Lisa went to the bog, then went to the bar to buy another round. Sitting down, she looked upset. Her cheeks were red hot.
“What’s up?”
No answer.
“Is everything ok?”
No answer. Then.
“My ex is here.”
“What... Did he say something?”
No reply.
“We can go if you want.”
“No... f**k him.”
Shit. She was pissed off.
I waited, knowing she’d tell me the whole story. After five minutes, looking more relaxed, she took a slug of wine.
“He caught me at the bar... asked me who I was with.”
Turning towards the bar, I saw a guy staring right through me. He turned away.
“He was asking about you. I told him to mind his own business.”
“Don’t worry about him.”
I moved closer.
“You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
I nibbled her earlobe. She smiled.
We carried on drinking and enjoying the music, her hand resting on my thigh. I couldn’t see the guy – could f*****g feel him though. I wasn’t overly concerned. Around six, the music finished; both of us were pretty pished.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Her ex was still at the bar, drinking and glowering at us. Walking past him was inevitable. I asked Lisa to walk behind me, she refused – I followed her. He stopped her and momentarily grabbed her wrist. He leaned in and said something I couldn’t hear. She pulled her arm from his grip and stood in front of him. Eye to eye.
“f**k off, Adam,” she spat and walked out.
As I walked by, he shouted, “She used to be my girlfriend.”
Man, the guy was drunk as a lord. I said nothing. He threw a punch – catching me on the cheek. The alcohol took most of the force out of it. I lunged at him – pinning him up against the bar.
“You want to f*****g start something?” I said to his pished face. I wasn’t even that angry. Two guys stepped in and apologised.
“Sorry mate, he’s drunk,” one of them half-smiled.
Relaxing my grip – I kinda felt sorry for him and pushed him away. Cunt looked like he wanted more. From across the bar, a big hairy arm grabbed his shoulder.
“That’s enough, Adam,” said the barman.
I walked out.
“f**k you,” he said to my back.
Waiting outside, Lisa asked, “What took you so long? What’s that red mark on your face?”
I told her a drunk guy banged against me at the bar.
“He was really sorry.”
I’m a good liar – had plenty of practice.
“He was trying to buy me a drink by way of an apology.”
I never told her what really happened – what was the point? It was unlikely I’d meet her ex again. I let it slide. Later, in bed, I found out why she was so mad. Turns out her ex had said, “You left me for him?” That’s what really pissed her off. I watched her sleep, her breathing in and out. My mind wouldn’t let me rest. Remorse sprinkled with guilt dripped from my mind’s tap.
Drip, drip, drip.
Lisa was so upset about a stupid drunken comment about me – what if she found out about my infidelity?
Drip, drip, drip.
The thought of the pain it would cause made my stomach churn like a front-loading washing machine.
Drip, drip, f*****g drip.