Chapter 6

It was the third time today. I was getting suspicious. I thought I had seen him in town; the man; at the post, at the butcher shop and now as I walked to the bus stop. I looked down reaching into my purse for a fag, and bloody hell if I didn't run right smack into him. I looked from my purse directly at the buttons that belonged to his black leather jacket.

"Pardon me," he said, a little disoriented.

I looked up to see the surprised expression in his bluish-green eyes. "You following me?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at him.

"No, Mam." He looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Listen, Sailor..." He actually had the bloody nerve to laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday. What are ya doing here in town?" I asked, pointing to the ground for effect.

"Beg yer pardon, Mam. I never said I was a sailor.I said I was going ta sail; which I did, and now I'm back doing errands." He held up a couple of bags.

"Aw, I see. Small world," I muttered as I put the fag in my mouth and fumbled around in my purse for a lighter. Quick as a wit, he had his lighter in hand; open already and lit for me. I smiled up at him as I inhaled. After Lizzie had told me that he gave the money back and that he was Marie's brother, I let go of the doubt I had about him. How bad could he be? The smile he was wearing on his face at that moment I found downright charming.

"How do I know that you weren't following me?" he asked jokingly, pointing his finger at me.

I found myself giggling like a schoolgirl.

The bus was quickly approaching. "There's my bus. Cheerio. " I waved to him and he nodded goodbye to me as I began to walk away. I paused and turned around. "By the way, I think my daughter could use a bit of following." I gave him a wink and hurried to my stop.

"Hello Ma, where've ya been?" Lizzie asked as I entered the kitchen.

I set down my bags and purse at the kitchen table. "Just went into town to the post…"

"Uh huh..." Lizzie is distracted reading a magazine.

"Yes, got some steaks down at the butcher's…"

"Uh huh…"

"Saw that man of yers..." I trailed off to see if she's paying attention.

Her eyes flew open and she looked at me incredulously. "Wha? Wha….man…Ma, what are ya talking about?" she stammered.

Her frazzled response made me smile. I knew it. She never said a word to me, but I knew it just the same. I could see my daughter liked this man very much.

"You know what man, Lizzie." I busied myself with putting away the meat and putting on a kettle for tea. "I'd forgotten he was so tall."

Lizzie was speechless. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. "He was sailing, I thought," she uttered almost under her breath.

"Apparently not."

"What did he say, Ma?" She looked at me anxiously. "Oh no," Lizzie breathes, the look of alarm clear on her face. "Mother, what did you say?"

"Nothing for you to worry over, Lizzie. Christ!"

Lizzie let out a sigh of relief. "Well, why is he in town? Is he here for long? Did he ask about me?"

I interrupted her string of questions. " All these questions and more can be answered by your very own friend, Marie."

"Thanks fer having me, Marie. It's been quite a while since ah've had a girl's night."

"Sit down, Lizzie, and think nothing of it." Marie smiled and handed her a glass of wine. "It's about time, I'd say."

"So..." Lizzie began, trying desperately to think what to say next. "Pretty busy at the chip shop today." Lizzie took a sip of her wine.

"Aye, very busy," Marie confirmed with a nod. " So...?" Marie wondered about how to bring up the subject of her brother.

"Yes?" Lizzie asked taking another sip.

"How's…er…Frankie, my boy, doing?" she asked not wanting to pressure Lizzie.

"He's fine. He's had some uh...concerns…but it's ta be expected."

"Sure, it's ta be expected," Marie agreed. The two looked at each other in silence. "Ya know what we need, Lizzie?"

Lizzie shook her head in response.

"We need some music...and some more wine."

4 glasses of wine later...

"...the man was completely blootered, Marie. He told me he was a prince, of all things, and then I told him ' An then yer arse fell off!' "

Marie laughed hysterically at this. The two women looked at each other and laughed.

"Aw Lizzie, I haven't laughed like this in ages."

"Neither have I," Lizzie told her wiping a tear from her eye. "Listen, Marie, do ya hear it? It's my favorite song playing on the radio." Marie noddeds and smiled as Lizzie sang, "and he'll come down...on a great white horse...and he'll bring me love, that I've been longin' for..." Lizzie stopped, her eyes fixing on Marie.

"What?" Marie asked. "Why did ya stop singing?"

"Marie, did ya request that song for me that night at the auditorium?"

Marie looked sheepish. "Promise ya won't hold it against me?"

"Nah. Couldn't if I tried." Lizzie finished the last of her wine. "Marie?"

"Mmmm?" Marie replied humming along with the music.

"So will ya tell me the name of that brother of yours already?" Lizzie asked, a little agitated. A slight blush rose to her cheeks.

"Why, Lizzie. It's no secret, ya know. I would've told ya day one, had ya asked."

"I know, Marie," Lizzie replied quietly. "I think I wasn't ready to know until now."

Marie lit up a cigarette. "His name is Patrick."

Lizzie smiled. "Patrick. I like that name. Patrick. I've been wondering for a long time. My mother said she saw Patrick in town today."

"Uh huh?"

"I thought he was off sailing...somewhere...and then my ma's telling me she saw him. So of course, I was surprised," Lizzie explained.

"I imagine ya would be," Marie chuckled.

"Ah need to use yer uh…bog."

"Right, ya remember where it is?" Marie points to the left.

Lizzie's head is spinning and not just from the wine. 'Patrick is his name' she thinks stumbling down the hallway to Marie's bathroom.

Marie heard Lizzie leave the bathroom. Silence filled the flat for a while and Marie began to wonder if Lizzie was alright. "Lizzie, are you okay?" Marie didn't get any response. Curiously she got up and found Lizzie standing there in the hallway looking intently at a picture on the wall.

"When did you get this, Marie? I don't remember this."

"Aye, it's new. Patrick brought this for me back from his last trip."

Impressed, Lizzie turned her eyes to Marie. "Really?" Marie nodded. "I can't take my eyes off it."

Lizzie's were fixed on a large framed photo of a young boy standing on the sand holding a rock looking out at the ocean.

"It reminds me of Frankie," Marie told her. Lizzie nodded in agreement.

"I think that's what Patrick was aiming fer when he shot this picture."

"Patrick took this picture, you say?" Her mouth was hanging open as Marie confirmed her query with a nod. Lizzie's eyes stayed trained on the picture. "He's very talented. There's something about it, maybe the way the water sparkles or the expression on the boy's face..." she trailed off while tracing her finger on the pictured boy's hair.

"Yes, he is very talented. Patrick is a photographer."

"A photographer. Wow!" Lizzie remarked breathlessly.

"Yes, in fact, remember the book he gave Frankie?" Lizzie nods. "Well, some of the pictures in the book on marine life are pictures that he took."

"An then yer arse fell off?"

Marie laughed. Her friend had had too much wine. Marie bumped her shoulder. "Seriously, Lizzie. He's a freelance photographer. He travels about the world. He used to specialize in marine life but he seems to be branching out recently."

Lizzie's eyes lit up. "Is that why he was sailing?"

"Yes, that was one of his last assignments. Patrick hates to fly but he will. He mostly prefers to sail."

The two women stumbled back to the couch. Marie poured Lizzie more wine.

"How is he anyway, your bro-Patrick?"

"He's ok, Lizzie. He's rather wondering the same about you."

"Me?"

"And Frankie, of course. Don't look so shocked now." Marie smiled at her open-mouthed friend.

"I thought he would've forgotten all about us by now."

"No, actually, Lizzie far from that."

"Tell me the truth, Marie, is he married?"

Marie laughed,"No, Lizzie."

"How is that possible? I mean, have you seen your brother?" Lizzie asked her skeptically, slightly slurring her words.

"Patrick's been through a lot. He 's avoided relationships at all cost. He hasn't even spoken to me about one single woman he's dated in all these years...until you."

"Me? Why, Marie?" Lizzie asked her disbelievingly. "Why should he care about me?" Lizzie's eyes turned downward. " I'm a mess."

"We're all a mess, aren't we? Nobody's perfect. Not you and certainly not Patrick."

Lizzie looked doubtfully at Marie. "Tell me about Patrick, Marie."

Marie took a gulp of her wine and looked up thoughtfully. "Patrick fell in love with Annabel when he was in the 2nd grade, I think. She was our next door neighbor and he followed her around like a wee puppy dog."

Lizzie's eyes lit up. She was enjoying hearing things about Patrick.

"Go on," Lizzie urged.

"So, Annabel didn't much care for him or for his following until about the 7th grade. At that point, they were inseparable. All the way up through secondary school, they were just smitten with each other and made plans to get married. Well they got married..."

Lizzie gasped, " But ya just said-"

"Let me finish…Patrick and Annabel got married but before they could celebrate their first anniversary Annabel passed away. She died from a brain tumor that neither she nor anyone else even knew about..."

"That's horrible…" Lizzie felt sad for this man she hardly knew, losing his childhood sweetheart so unsuspectedly.

"I know. The worst part is that she was seven months pregnant at the time. Her body just couldn't handle the pregnancy, so she miscarried, and ended up dying from the tumor." Lizzie gaped at Marie not able to fully comprehend her words. "So, Patrick never recovered from losing his childhood sweetheart and his baby. That happened almost twenty years ago."

"Worst thing ah ever heard…" Lizzie looked as though she would cry.

"What I think is the real crime is how he hasn't been able to get over it...at least until now."

Lizzie looked at Marie hopefully. Marie tilted her head to the side and looked at Lizzie. "Ya know, ya sort of got her coloring...Annabel's."

"Ya mean I look like her?"

"No, I mean, I can hardly remember what she looked like. Ya have the same light colored skin, color hair. Don't ya worry Lizzie, ya don't look any more like her than Patrick did Davey. It's you…" Marie stopped and covered her mouth.

"It's me, what?"

Marie smiled and got up to pour out the rest of her wine. "I guess I shouldn't say so much."

Lizzie followed her into the kitchen nearly knocking over a plant in the corner. "No, no, Marie. You can't just stop there. It's me what?" Lizzie pressed.

Marie sighed. "Look Lizzie, I want Patrick to be happy as well as you but it's really up to the two of you what happens now."

"It's me, what, Marie?"

She shook her head at first, her blue eyes settled on the floor then snapped them back to Lizzie's eyes. "It's you Patrick can't stop thinking about."

A/N The term 'blootered' means drunk in Scottish slang. The word 'bog' is the Scottish slang word for bathroom as you've probably already guessed. 'An then yer arse fell off' is an expression that is used when someone is bullshitting, pardon my French...er Scottish slang!