The Shadowy Horses

Robbie wasn't keen on seeing the crowning ceremony, but he was keen on the children's races held beforehand. Jeannie would have taken him herself, only she'd been battling a headache since breakfast, and with Brian away up to St. Abbs, and Wally leaving at daybreak to help set things up in town, it was down to me and David.

"Of course it's no bother," said David. "And after the races, we'll take Robbie around to the museum, and show him that stunning gown you wore as Herring Queen."

"You do and I'll make you wear it," she threatened him. "All those purple petticoats ... and the flounces]"

"Well, it was the fashion," I consoled her. "I used to have a bridesmaid's frock like that myself."

When she pointed out that my frock wasn't on display for everyone to see, I shrugged. "I wasn't a Herring Queen. How do they choose the Herring Queen, anyway?"

"Looks," she said, straight-faced, but David didn't let her get away with it.

"Wasn't it school grades, in your day?" he asked her.

"In my day? And what am I, a dinosaur? Which one of us is turning thirty-seven?"

David shook his head. "Not till tomorrow. I'm a young man yet, the day."

Robbie grabbed his sleeve and hauled him bodily toward the door. "Come on," he said. "We'll be missing everything." Peter and most of the students had gone into town before us, drawn more by the lure of open pubs, I thought, than by any real desire to see the Herring Queen crowned. Fabia had promised several of the young men she would follow within the hour, but she was, as usual, running late. As we passed into the front hall she was talking on the telephone.

"... in the cellar, yes. Tomorrow? But that's Sunday, are you ... ? Oh right, yes, that's fine," she said, turning slightly at the sound of our footsteps. "OK, I will. Thanks very much."

She rang off with a faintly guilty air, and David grinned.

"You're never ordering more supplies?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, as if to deny the charge, then thought better of it. "Well, I need them. And anyway, Peter said that I could order anything I liked, for my darkroom." Tossing back her bright fair hair she gathered up the keys to the Range Rover. "Are you off to this Herring Queen thing, then?"

"Aye, any chance of a hurl into town? We were going to walk, but Robbie's in a wee bit of a hurry and I don't fancy jogging the mile."

"With thighs like that?" Her eyes dipped down and back again, flirting from habit. "I'll not believe it. But sure, I can give you a lift, if you want."

She dropped us by Market Place, in front of the museum, where a boisterous group of children appeared to have completely taken over the small paved square, laughing and jostling and chasing one another with alarming energy. David and I moved to one side, joining the ranks of the parents who stood around the edges of Market Place, keeping well clear of the rampage.

As I stood watching Robbie run wild with the rest of them, his dark curls tossed anyhow, eyes shining happily, it suddenly struck me that our child would look very much like that—David's and mine. And then the implications of that one stray thought sank home, and I felt my face grow warm.

"Wave to my mother," David said, his own hand raised toward the comer of the square, where the windows of Salt-greens reflected the brilliant blue sky. "Where is she?" I asked him, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up. "I can't see her."

"Neither can I. But she'll be up there somewhere. She doesn't miss much."

Smiling, I sent a general wave to all the watching windows, and turned again, expectantly. "So, if the children's races are run on Gunsgreen," I asked David, "then what are we doing here?"

"Waiting for the pipe band."

My eyes shone. "What, bagpipes?"

"Like them, do you?" He laughed at my reaction. "Well, you'll not have long to wait. They come at noon, to gather up the children and pipe them over the water."

"A pipe band," I repeated, unable to hide my delight. "Do we get to follow them, too?"

"Oh, aye. You can run in the races and all, if you want to. And if you're a good wee lassie," he promised, "I'll buy you an ice lolly, afterwards." His indulgent smile warmed me as he took hold of my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.

I smiled back, indescribably happy, then turned away again as a rising drone of music heralded the arrival of the pipe band.

Released from work, with no worries to think of, no ghosts to dog my steps, and the sun shining bright in a perfect blue sky, I felt younger than Robbie as we followed the skirling pipes down to the harbor and over the middle pier onto the level sweep of lawn that spread toward the sea from Guns-green House.

There were people everywhere. They ebbed and flowed around us like a tidal stream, in colorful confusion. David, still holding my hand, steered me expertly through them and found a spot where we could stand and cheer the races. There was Highland dancing as well, with its bright swirl of tartan and toe-tapping music. I couldn't remember when I'd had so much fun.

David appeared to enjoy himself, too, though he did cast a critical eye over Robbie's free lunch. "Soggy pie and yucky apple tart it was, in my day,'' he complained. ' "These kids are spoiled, now." It surprised me how quickly the time passed. When the first fishing boats nosed their way into the harbor, I had to check my watch to convince myself it was, in fact, the middle of the afternoon.