"The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men. Gang aft agley. An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain. For promis'd joy!" Robert Burns, To A Mouse 1785.
"Liars and Lovers combine Tonight, Were Gonna Make A Scene." The Captain, Biffy Clyro 2009.
The largest reception room at Mount Busby Farm would have once been very grand, with Queen Anne furniture and Regency coffee tables. The only thing that remained unchanged was that the original fireplace still gave up warmth and light provided by nature and the windows let in the light from the same star constellations and the same moon.
The Two Loves preferred antique furniture of a later period, and in their 80s comfort was paramount. The room was stocked with love seats, chesterfields, recliners, bean bags, generous cushions and a rather charming gold settee that suspiciously looked pre-war. Just no one was sure which war. Everyone mocked it, but everyone fought to sit on it as it was very comfy. Patsy often talked about replacing it, but Delia wouldn't hear of it. You don't throw your memories out with the rubbish and there are more memories than just ours hidden within these cushions, Cariad. That was always the end of it.
The most current occupants of that particular settee to be making memories were Tim Turner and Lucille Anderson. Phyllis looked over at the awkward teen who was no longer as awkward as he had once been. He sat comfortably chatting to his companion, both of them laughing at intervals. Lucille often finishing Tim's sentences or him proclaiming, yep that's it or knew you'd get it, when they appeared to reach a level of understanding. Of course, when she asked the student nurse about her new friendship she would just reply, brushing the older nurse off. Oh, he is precious; He makes me laugh.
He was certainly doing that from where Matron Crane was sitting on a leather tan Whitworth dining chair probably by Frank Hudson. Years of heavy lifting before the introduction of patient hoists and transfer boards had taken their toll on the matron's back. It was why she had found herself in a more managerial role much earlier than she would have truly preferred. She looked at Student Nurse Anderson and thought maybe the NHS was in more tender capable hands than the shitstirrers would have them believe.
"I am wondering if we should start," youth minister Tom Hereward was on his feet. "I am not sure how long baby will sleep in a strange house."
"I have been called many things in my time, but not sure strange is one of them," laughed Delia.
"Oh, I have Deals, it's fine," reassured Patsy.
Tom turned pink. Trixie leaned over to him, "They are joking," and sat back onto the giant purple pouffe she was sharing with Valerie. "I know, I live here. I have to put up with it all the time."
"So. Erm who is in charge, who has the most authority here." Tom was still trying to create some sense of order.
"Well, Julia is the vicar," chirped in Bobby trying to offer her husband some support.
"But this is not the church," Rev Julia responded with a warm smile.
"Another shock there then, it's all coming out tonight, Patsy." Delia couldn't help herself when she had an audience and a bottle of Prosecco was being passed round.
"Matron Crane is on the council," Lucille reminded everyone.
"No, I don't think that matters lass, it's not a council matter." Phyllis shook her head.
"Well, someone needs to take the lead," Tom said with a hint of irritation.
"I will! On the authority that I am a young woman on her only night off of the week," struck up Val, " but I have agreed to come here and discuss plans for Bernie's birthday instead of having two for one Sex on the Beach."
"It's a cocktail, and its Happy Hour in the Fourteen Teacups on a Tuesday," Trixie interpreted for everyone and to save Tom anymore anxiety.
"That's ambitious having a Happy Hour at the Teacups, isn't it?" said Fred, who had managed to wedge himself into a deep red Chesterfield.
"Yeah, apparently Ursula gives you the right change, that's why they call it happy hour," Tim smirked.
"As I am representing the Crown. I will continue," said Val and she did, "we want to put on a Burns Night for Bernie's birthday like in the old days. Now Tim has told us Paddy is half Scottish."
"Why isn't he here?" asked Bobby.
"Well, he said it would look suspicious if he left Bernie on her tod behind the bar on a Tuesday night," Vi explained sitting on a scarlet love seat next to Fred.
"Yep, in case our two Tuesday night regulars rush the bar at once," snorted Val.
"I think it's more that it would look suspicious if he actually just left Bernie alone for five minutes," Trixie corrected.
Lucille felt Tim squirm in the seat beside her. She knew he thought the world of Bernie, but didn't like to hear her relationship with his father discussed in public. This was inevitable being a small village with one pub, one church and two of the villages most popular inhabitants linked to both. She tried to ease his tension.
"I think it's lovely, just shows as my grandma used to say there may be snow on the roof, but there is still fire in the grate."
As everyone surrendered to laughter, Matron shared a smile with the vicar, both of them confirming Lucille might be familiar with the saying but maybe not it's meaning.
Delia was the first to keep a straight face, "But they are only bairns, wait until they are mine and Pats age then the fire may need a little bit of stoking."
"Yes, Deals, but remember we have never required the use of a poker."
Val swiftly continued, "Paddy doesn't wish to be involved."
"Why?" Reggie asked perched on his wooden stool.
Val motioned towards Tim, who was still recovering from the last topic of conversation.
"Because it would look ridiculous.His words not mine." Tim continued, "and I quote, Wilf had the works, I would look like I was trying to pull a stunt to impress Bernie by looking like I was dressing in drag and taking the piss."
Tim looked at his knees and Lucille gave one a quick squeeze. She knew this wasn't easy for him.
Everyone else also looked at their knees, the mood was solemn.
"We can all understand Paddy's reasons." There were a couple of nods and sighs in response. "But we aren't putting up with any of that nonsense," Val added with a grin.
This was met with a very large and unanimous cheer.
"Well, I've already looked up the Turner tartan," Trixie handed an iPad over to Patsy via Val.
"That's very smart," approved the artist.
"Sorry I hate to throw a spanner in the works, but how are we going to afford all this?" butt in a pensive Vi.
"We've already thought of that," grinned Delia, "Mount Busby will cover the cost of the costume."
"That's very generous," sniffed Evie, who had nearly dozed off in a leather recliner.
"Not really," explained Patsy. "I have a friend that works for Kilts 4 U and they are very interested in looking into the possibility of making an alpaca lined sporran."
This was news to Reggie who followed anything relating to his charges with great interest, "What's a sporran?"
"It's where he keeps his spare change," Fred enlightened or at least tried to.
"It's the little purse that men wear at the front of the kilt, Reggie," Violet elaborated. He seemed reassured by this.
"So anyway in return for a few samples," Patsy continued, "my friend will be happy to hire out the full regalia for the evening."
"It's not long now until Burns Night have you got some sort of prototype ready?" quizzed Evie.
"Lady K is working on them as we speak. She loves nothing better than fiddling with a bit of alpaca wool," Delia replied gleefully.
"Lady K?" Phyllis queried.
"Yes, she is very creative," reassured Trixie.
"I don't doubt it, Trixie, but she is one of Bernie's clients. What if the lass sees what she is up too"
"Don't fret Phyllis," Patsy interjected, "I find that Antonia is much less forgetful when she has an occupation to challenge her and I am certain she won't let the cat out of its proverbial bag."
Jack sat on the floor banged his head against the fire surround he was leaning against, "Can't imagine Berns thinking, oh! look, Lady K is sticking bits of alpaca wool to a man's bag he hangs in front of his todger, that must be something to do with Paddy and my birthday"
Vi was quick to admonish Jack, but when even Tom started to laugh, she decided to let it go.
"What about the little knifey thing they keep in their sock that he stabs the Haggis with?" Fred was beginning to get excited.
"Sgian dubh," corrected Vi.
"All part of the traditional dress," Patsy added a tone to her voice to reassure everyone that she had thought of everything.
"So that's the gear sorted. Me and Reggie are in charge of the beer. What else?" Fred's eyes were wide thinking they actually might be able to pull this off.
"Well, myself and Evie have created a menu, pretty much on the lines of what we used to do in Wilf's day." Violet opened a small notebook and put on her reading glasses.
Clearing her throat she read, "Cock-a-leekie soup, Scottish salmon and tattie scones or scotch egg for starters."
"Cock a what?" shouted up Jack.
"Chicken and vegetable soup to you, young man. There will be a just vegetable option too." Violet's voice began to take on the air it adopted when addressing an audience. "Then we have the Haggis or vegan Haggis, neeps and tatties and a whisky sauce."
"What about those that might not wish to partake in the Haggis?" Tom asked nervously, as he might.
Evie spoke up, before Vi could respond. "There is always the Fourteen Teacups for the likes of those that don't wish to have Haggis. It's a Burns Night. If you don't want Haggis, then stay at home and order in a pizza."
"What's for pudding?" Bobby struck up, squeezing her husband's hand.
"Cranachan which is raspberries, cream, oats and whisky, or Clootie pudding with whisky sauce or whisky ice cream or a Scottish cheese board with oatcakes."
Murmurs of approval were aimed in Violet's direction.
"That's a lot of whisky?" Lucille remarked.
Violet agreed, "Yes, we need just a house whisky for everyone for the toasts Val, I will leave that to you, but you need to pay the piper with a good quality malt."
Silence broke out in the previously buzzing over occupied living room.
"Piper!" Several people groaned at once.
Fred, who was not going to let anything get in the way of this Burns Night declared, "Look we will just have to bung on a recording." Turning to Tim and Jack, he said, "You lads look up the Red Hot Chilli Pipers on your phones."
Tim reached for his phone swiping the picture of Lucille and him with Alpaca Colin. But Lucille touched his hand, making him hesitate.
"I don't think that would be very suitable Mr Buckle, going to all this trouble with such a delicious menu and Mr Turner all dressed up in the finest regalia and then having some squeaky din coming out of an iPhone."
"Your right lass, it just won't do," supported Phyllis.
"Well, does anyone know a piper?" Fred replied wearily.
"Surely we can find a professional one online?" contributed Julia
"A professional piper that's free on Burns Night at this late notice," chided Phyllis.
"I know a piper."
The voice came from the back of the room everyone turned to look at the slight dark-haired woman sat on a dining chair. "Well, I think we all do."
"Do we, Jane?" Julia asked.
"Yes, the busker that stands outside the town hall in Appleby Thornton."
Everyone started talking at once;
"I only go into town every second Tuesday to get my hair done."
"Same here I only go through if I have a doctor's appointment."
"Well, it's the cost of the parking isn't it, it's free at Tweaven Retail Park and more shops."
"You can get it on t'internet delivered to your door."
"I haven't been since Marks and Spencers closed."
"Debenhams is closing next week such a shame, that shops older than me, always been a department store in Appleby Thornton."
"It was one of the first in the country to have a lift, you know."
Jane cleared her throat. "There are a lot of good things about Appleby Thornton that are not always obvious."
"Here, here!" chimed in Val, "there is still a Primark."
"Oh well, let's be grateful for small mercies," stung back Trixie.
Much to Delia's disappointment, Val bit her lip. The ex nurse and market gardener loved a full house. She cherished her quiet times with Patsy too, but she was the more sociable of the pair. The farm was large enough for Patsy to have her office and art studio and not be disturbed while Delia fussed the alpacas with Reggie. Trixie moving in had been Patsy's scheme, but Delia was the one who had benefited most from their new project, even if she would never let their new employee know she was a project.
Delia enjoyed listening to Trixie's anecdotes and gossip, she felt reconnected with a world that was moving so fast. The Two Loves were business women and technology hadn't passed them by. It was the music, the celebrities, the trashy telly that Patsy despised and Delia loved that made having Trixie and her friends around delight Delia.
Delia's caregiver probably wasn't as up-to-date with pop culture as Trixie and her friend. Val was now a frequent visitor to Mount Busby as she and their new lodger had struck up quite a friendship. Nurse Bernie though always looked a bit behind the door when the other two were in full flow about some reality TV show.
But since Trixie had moved in, Nurse made Delia's blood pressure check the last visit on her rounds and she drank tea sitting and chatting with Trixie. Bernie didn't need to watch Love Island. She had her own romantic paradise in Poplar-on-Tweaven and Delia couldn't be more happy for her.
Val had bitten her lip because even though her new friend was still a bit of an enigma to her. She did know Trixie might talk as if she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but in the last few months she had gleaned enough to know that spoon had been tarnished sometime ago. So in spite of all her bravado, Trixie was as familiar with Poundland as she was Prada.
It was Julia who cut through the chatter. "I believe I am familiar with the young man you are referring to. He has a small dog with him if I am right?"
"Yes, Reverend." Jane was beginning to believe she had dreamt the piper and maybe also Appleby Thornton.
"He's rather good, as I remember."
Jane was beaming as she nodded.
"So problem solved," Fred rubbed his hands together with glee, "tot of whisky, a bowl of water for the pooch, bob's your uncle, sorted"
"No, it certainly is not." Trixie's tone caused everyone to alter their gaze, "this man is a professional musician surely, if he has a regular spot he has a license. I am sure Chummy is well acquainted with the gentleman and his story, we can ask her."
Inspector Noakes had been unable to attend the meeting because of work commitments and Peter's Tuesday evenings were spent running a youth football team that Jack and Timothy had both enjoyed being a part of. Alas Tim had become too rangy and prone to injury and Jack had become too lazy and prone to chips.
Trixie continued, "He deserves an appropriate wage for his efforts." She turned to Val. "I believe the Crown has an entertainments licence."
Val nodded and smiled reassuringly at her friend, "Paddy does, leave it with me and I will also make sure he and the mut are fed and provided with transport both ways."
Trixie relaxed and shared a smile with the aromatherapist sitting at the back of the room. "Do you know his name?"
"Kevin."
Fred let out a huge sigh. "So we are all sorted then?"
"It would appear so," replied Lucille grimacing at Tim.
"Apart from Dad." groaned Tim.
Followed by an echo of sighs.
"Leave your dad to me, Chick." winked Val.