“Wow, quite a roll-call. Are both your folks still alive?”
“Yup, still going strong, living in the same farm house that Dad was born in.”
“How big is the farm?”
“I am not sure exactly. I think it is a couple of thousand acres. But much of it is moor and hills and we have the sheep on that part. I just remember when I was a girl that I used to get rides across the hills on the back of one of my brother’s motorcycles. So when I was old enough, I would ride them myself,” she said, smiling.
“You sound to have been a bit of a tomboy,” I observed, and she laughed.
“Oh more than a bit, but that’s another story,” she said.
“Where about in Scotland is it?”
“Do you know Scotland?”
“No, I must confess I don’t,” I admitted.
“Then we are about in the middle somewhere,” she said, with a grin. “We are in the county of Perthshire, between a place called Pitlochry and Kirkmichael. It is a long way from civilisation, thank God!”
I went to my bureau, dug out an atlas and found Scotland. She pointed to the part she referred to, but it meant little to me.
“You will see it soon enough. I hope you will like it.”
“I am sure I will,” I said.
Ed joined us, his clothes were dry now, and he had another beer in his hand.
He took Gillian’s hand, yet still they said nothing to each other, but the looks they exchanged were worth a thousand words. Once more, I felt that they didn’t need to speak, for some obscure reason.
Eventually, they thanked me for the evening and said goodnight, promising to call me with the details of the wedding. They walked down the path, arm in arm, and it made me feel good to see them. I was just sad that Carol wasn’t there to share the moment.
* * *
Ed
Gigi was quiet on the way back to my quarters, we had been mind-speaking all evening, which was fun. She has a wicked sense of humour, and I still can’t quite believe my fortune to have met her.
We sat on the porch and enjoyed a bit of peace and quiet after the hectic party. I was pleased that Rick had agreed to be my best man, it meant a lot to me.
“Ed?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you get any of your old feelings anymore?” she asked.
“Nope, not so far. Do you?”
She shook her head.
“Do you miss them?” I asked.
She smiled and shook her head again.
“I miss them not being there, but not in the sense that I want them at all. Not that I ever did, but I think you know what I mean. Do you?”
I thought for a moment. It was strange, as they had once been almost like old friends, these feelings. But when it came down to it, they weren’t friends anymore.
“No, I’m glad they’ve gone,” I said. “Sometimes I don’t quite believe that they have. It’s like I half expect them to be lurking there, hiding.”
“When I first came round, because of what had been done, I thought I was you,” she said.
“Yeah, me too.”
“I didn’t mind, but this is better.”
“We got the best of both worlds now. We are about as close as two people could ever be, and then some,” I said.
“Don’t leave me, ever,” she said. I pulled her close to me.
“I won’t, as a far as I can.”
I held her for a while, as she rested her head against me.
“What are we going to do tomorrow?” she asked.
“Well, once I get my uniform sorted, we could make for the airport, I guess. I don’t take up my new post for four weeks, so we have time to get married and have a honeymoon.”
“Where shall we go?”
“To be honest, I don’t give a damn. I have been with you in paradise, so anywhere is good for me, as long as you’re with me,” I said.
She laughed. “You really are a soppy bastard.”
“Well, the island was fantastic, so does it matter?” I said.
“We could just tour Scotland. I could show you my home, before I leave it to make a home with you.”
“That would be good.”
“Besides, the grouse season starts on the 12th of August, so we will be there for that.”
“The grouse season?”
“You do know what a grouse is?”
“Yeah, some dumb bastard who complains a lot,” I said, and she laughed.
“The grouse is a bird, a wee bit bigger than a partridge that lives on the moors and is very nice to eat. The season is short, to allow them to breed, so then we get to freeze them for the year. All the farmers and local gentry go out and shoot them. It can be very expensive if you take a large moor for a couple of weeks.
“Our farm has a few hundred acres of moor, so the shooting is quite good. When I was a girl, I used to go out with the beaters, to earn some holiday cash.”
“Beaters?”
“Aye, the guns would be in the butts, ..”
“Butts?”
“Butts are where the guns stand. A man with a gun is called a gun, and he stands in a butt, which is either a small circle of stones, or a small heather and wood screen that he can keep behind so the grouse don’t see him. They stretch down the hill, about twenty yards to forty apart, depending on the length of the slope. Then the line of beaters would start about a mile or so away, and drive the birds towards the guns.”
“So the guys with guns just stand there, and shoot, no walking or anything?” I asked.
“That’s right, but they have to walk up to the butts and they change round for each drive, so as to have a different position on the hillside each time.”
“Sounds like an easy life. Don’t the beaters get shot?” I asked, and she smiled.
“Sometimes, if the guns don’t do what they are told. The keeper should blow a whistle, so after that no shots should go forward, just behind for the birds flying past.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been into killing things for the hell of it,” I said.
“We used to spend days walking up the grouse,” she said.
“What’s that, walking up behind them and shouting, ‘Boo!’?” I said, teasing her.
She laughed, “Almost. You get a line of people with guns, and you spread out and walk a hillside or piece of moor, and shoot anything that is put up. It is good exercise and you don’t shoot more than you can eat or freeze.”
“That is more my line, I have been hunting a few times up in Colorado. They even give horses Kevlar blankets up there,” I said, and she laughed again.
“At least the Scots know the difference between a grouse and a horse.”
“I’d like to see your country, so let’s do that. Just tour about and see a bit of Scotland.”
“I have to go to Edinburgh and give in my resignation. Then I must put my flat on the market or list it to rent. Oh, and I suppose I will have to sell my Kawasaki,” she said.
“You can always get another in the States.”
“Good, I will,” she said, and grinned. “I like my bikes.”
“The new Gilly will cause a bit of a stir back home then?”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess she will,” she said, smiling at the thought. “My nickname was the Ice Maiden at college.”
“You’ve come a long way in a real short time,” I told her.
“I know, and I wouldn’t go back. I just feel so sorry for all the poor sods who are still as screwed up as we were.”
“I know. I realised when I decided to follow the path that I did, that someday there would come a time of decision. I am just so grateful for what happened.”
“What would you have done, had we not met and gone to the island?” she asked.
I shrugged. It was a question I could not answer. I dreaded to think of what I would have done.
“I really don’t know, babe. The Time Corps were simply putting off the inevitable, which in a way made it worse.”
“How so?”
“Well, being able to live a full and active life as a normal female was great, but then I’d come back to being me again. After the first trip, they offered me some time out. I couldn’t get back into it again.”