August 2015
After an emotional few days Mallory returned to Scotland and walked in through the front door of her home. The silence was almost deafening and she couldn’t wait to get back to the pub later for her shift.
After showering and changing, she gave Ruby a bone to chew on and left her with the promise of being back very soon. Obviously Ruby was far more interested in the juicy treat and didn’t raise her head as Mallory left. She inhaled the warm summer air as she walked the few hundred yards to the pub and pushed the door open. Greg was nowhere to be seen and Stella had no clue where he was either. There had been no phone call or text to say he wouldn’t be in, which was strange.
By ten that night Mallory was beginning to worry. They had been spending so much time together lately that she felt sure he would have mentioned if he was going to be elsewhere.
Admittedly, he had been rather quiet throughout the day, unlike normal when he would just turn up and take her for lunch or call and ask if she fancied a trip out on the boat.
When there was a lull in customers she decided to give him a call. His answering machine kicked in again. Glancing at her watch, she spotted the date and frowned. It can’t be the twentieth. Oh shit. It is the twentieth! Suddenly she was filled with horror. She’d been so preoccupied today that she had somehow got her days mixed up. And now Greg was somewhere, alone, on the anniversary of Mairi’s death.
She explained to Stella that she needed to go find him and why. Stella wholeheartedly agreed that it was a good idea for her to go.
Mallory ran over to her house to collect her car keys. Ruby looked a little dazed at the intrusion but didn’t get up from her curled up position on the rug. Mallory grabbed what she needed and left, slamming and locking the door behind her.
She set off for Greg’s but on arrival found the house in darkness and the car was gone. Knowing it was a futile exercise she banged on the windows but of course there was no answer, except the barking of Greg’s dog. She tried the front door and found it unlocked. As she entered, Angus came running towards her still barking until he realised who she was. Filled with dread she ran around the house looking in every room, closely followed by Angus. She called Greg’s name. No reply.
She slumped on his sofa and noticed a pile of photos on the table, glistening in the moonlight that streamed in through the window. She switched on a lamp and picked up the photos. Mairi and Greg at the beach; Mairi and Greg at a friend’s wedding; Mairi and Greg kissing; Mairi and Greg out walking; every photo showed happy, smiling faces in loving embraces. They looked so in love. How could he have doubted her love for him?
The last photo was one she picked up from the floor. The Buckle at sunset. Shivers traversed her spine when she remembered Greg’s words from a few months before.
Every so often I take off up to The Buckle near Glen Etiv, where I met Mairi… there’s a little rock… I just sit there. I take my sleeping bag and sleep under the bridge… I feel her there.
‘Oh my God, poor Greg.’ She hurriedly fussed Angus and told him to stay then she ran out to her car, slamming Greg’s front door behind her.
She scrambled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, fumbling with the handbrake. ‘More haste, less speed!’ she shouted at herself.
She vaguely remembered how to get to Glen Etiv and knew it’d take her around two hours. She just hoped he was okay.
Ever since Sam’s accident she’d hated driving in the dark. There was something eerily beautiful about the highland landscape at night but it was something she couldn’t appreciate as she gripped the wheel so tightly her fingers ached. She feared for Greg’s state of mind and thankfully that fear drove her forward with a determination to make up for being such a terrible friend. She had to find him and driving in the moonlight was the only way to do so.
Staring at the road ahead, she shook her head. ‘What the fuck am I doing? I must be bloody insane.’ She hated herself for swearing and didn’t do it often but she was nervous and scared as to what she may find if and when she found Greg.
It was past midnight when she eventually located the small road that was signposted to Glen Etiv. She figured it must be the one Greg talked about as the moon highlighted the Buachaille peak looming in the distance. She pulled onto the road and drove along with the peak to her right and moorland surrounding her only lit in portions by her headlights, until she crossed the small bridge Greg had mentioned.
Her eyes were wide open as her headlights fell on Greg’s Land Rover. She screeched to a halt nearby, jumped out of her car and ran over to the vehicle. There was no sign of him. But there was a holdall scrunched up in the back seat.
‘GREG!!’ she shouted as loud as she could. No reply. She walked towards the bridge. ‘GREEEEEG!!’ she tried again. Her voice echoed in the night air and her heart was thumping in her chest.
It was uncomfortably dark, apart from the crescent moon shining down and casting eerie shadows on her unfamiliar surroundings. There was a haunting stillness to the place. The only clearly audible sound as she walked was the water crashing around under the bridge, breaking the otherwise silent night.
She decided to follow a narrow path which veered away from the road to the underside of the bridge. She remembered Greg saying he sometimes slept there. It was pitch black so she grabbed her phone from her pocket and switched on its torch.
‘Bloody typical. Can’t get a sodding signal anywhere, but I pay twenty-five quid a month for an effing torch,’ she chuntered loudly as she walked.
There was a sleeping bag right where she had anticipated; but no Greg. She clambered back up to the road and aimed back towards Greg’s car. Tears of sheer anxiety stung at her eyes. Suddenly, the torch glinted on something, making her jump and stop dead in her tracks. It was a man. She shined the torch directly onto him. The figure raised an arm to shield his eyes from the glare of the light. It was Greg. She marched towards where he sat, on his little rock facing the Buckle.
She exhaled a huge sigh of relief as she reached him. He hung his head.
‘Greg. Are you okay?’ No response. She crouched and tilted his chin up. His eyes were closed and his face was wet. She tapped his face with her free hand. ‘Greg, it’s me, Mallory.’ Slowly his eyes opened partially.
‘Mallory?’ He looked confused for a moment. ‘Oh aye, Mallory, my bestest friend in the world, Mallory, Mallory.’ His words slurred and she noticed a large, half-empty whiskey bottle clutched in his right hand.
She wrestled the bottle from him. ‘Oh, Greg, you silly, silly sod. What’ve you done?’
‘Ahhhhad a wee drinky. In memory of my wee lassie.’ He smiled. ‘She’s dead, you know.’
She sighed. ‘Yes Greg, I know. Come on, let’s get you home. We’ll collect your car tomorrow, eh?’
‘No… Fuck off!’ He swiped her hand away as she tried to take his arm. ‘You just fuck the fuck away, am stayin’ here with my Mairi.’ He was not a pleasant drunk.
Annoyance washing over her, she snapped, ‘Oy, don’t swear at me.’ She grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her neck and struggled to get him to a standing position. ‘You can’t stay here, not in this state.’
He swayed. ‘Am shorry, Mallilly. I don’t mean to swear at you. You’re my best friend, you know that?’
‘Yes, Greg, so you said. Now come on. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning and I need to get you home. You’ve had me worried sick,’ she scolded him.
He chuckled like a little kid. ‘Whoops, you swore. You said shit.’ His accent had become stronger in his drunken state. If this situation wasn’t so sad Mallory would’ve been amused by drunken Greg.
Stifling a giggle, she said, ‘Sorry for swearing, Greg, now come on. You can’t stay here. It’s a road not a campsite.’ They wobbled and swayed towards her car.
Suddenly Greg stopped and looked back at the moonlit mountain. ‘I met her there on that wee path. I’d been out walking and I was on my way back to the car. She dropped her map and tripped over her bootlaces trying to pick it up… I caught her.’ Greg was now seemingly lucid and Mallory was struck as to the similarities between his story of meeting Mairi and hers of meeting Sam.
They stood in silence.
Greg looked down at Mallory. ‘She was so beautiful, Mally, so beautiful. Long red hair, green eyes.’ A tear rolled down his unshaven cheek. ‘I miss her so much. I don’t want to be alone. I hate it.’ He brought his hand up to cover his eyes as he was taken over by his emotions. His lower lip trembled and his body shook much the same as hers had that night on the beach when he had rescued her. It was her turn to rescue him now. She hugged him and let him cry.
Eventually he wiped his face on his T-shirt, took a deep breath and looked down at her again. Sadness gripped her too as she gazed up at the broken man, fully understanding his pain. Unexpectedly he reached out and slipped his hand into her hair and lowered his mouth to hers. She froze. He kissed her softly but it wasn’t the simple kiss of one friend to another. There was something else lingering between them that she didn’t want to acknowledge but her heart skipped in her chest. She noticed the taste of whiskey and remembered why she was here.
Her mind snapped back into action. ‘Greg, no! What are you doing?’ She stepped back from him glaring.
He wobbled a little. ‘Shit. I’m sorry, Mallory, I-I don’t know why I did that.’ He touched his lips as he stumbled backward.
‘No, neither do I… Let’s just forget about it. Come on. You need to get home to bed.’ She knew he was drunk. She knew he was grieving, but boy was she going to have to work on forgiving him for that latest development.
She helped fold him into her car which wasn’t really built for huge hulking men. Fastened his seat belt and slammed the door almost off its hinges.
When she had climbed into the driver’s seat he was looking at her.
‘You’re mad with me, aren’t you? Please don’t be mad with me,’ he begged. ‘I couldn’t help myself, I really couldn’t. I’m sorry. I know you don’t see me that way.’
She huffed. ‘You don’t see me that way either when you’re sober, Greg. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning.’
‘Mallory?’
‘Yes, Greg, what is it now?’ she snapped.
‘It is morning.’