I stood, too. Mrs. Moorcock appeared at the door, and directed me through to a phone in the hallway. Thanks to the long-ago Michael, the airline had my name on file and booked the ticket in under five minutes. As I stepped out to the front door, Jack appeared, holding my pack and his own bag.
“I have one final commitment before we drive down to Edinburgh. I hope you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind,” I said, as we walked to the car, and then I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. “Are you going to say goodbye to Rebecca?”
He shot me an odd look and shook his head.
“Nae, I’ve seen the last of her for a while, aye?” he said, unlocking my door. He tossed my pack in the back, and turned to face me. “We’re goin’ to the Games in Nairn.”
The thought of going to back to Nairn drove everything else out of my head. After assuring PC Doris of my unquestioning obedience to the crown in Stirling, Jack had taken me back to his home just outside of Inverness. So by contrast to the long drive I could barely remember from the night before, our morning trip was a quick jaunt. The games were being held on the estate of the current Thane of Cawdor, just outside Nairn itself, but along roads I recognized instantly.
It felt like I was going home.
We pulled up and parked in an area beside Cawdor Castle. On the driveway below, a parade of pipe bands gathered amid a marching of the various Highland colors. The Laird himself led the parade, surrounded by a collection of gentlemen sporting plaids in all possible combinations, mostly topped with white shirt and tie.
I spent an entertaining few moments comparing sporrans—trust the Scots to have invented the original, most practical man-purse. Some of the younger men had gussied up their kilts with leather sporrans featuring embossed skulls, but most were of the traditional combinations of leather and metal and fur. Some were black and hairy and some were gray and hairy and I even saw one that sported the entire head of an ex-fox.
Not once did I see a man actually put anything in or take anything out of his sporran, though. A total waste of good space, to my mind.
After the trooping of the colors, it was time for Jack to head off to assume whatever duties a guest of honor is required to undertake. He asked if I would still be there as promised at the end of the day, with a flash of anxiety on his face I could see he tried very hard to hide.
I assured him I would, and when I say I meant it with all my heart, well—I did. I’d had enough of running. Sunshine Susan could have the fugitive life. It was not for me anymore.
Since the drug haze had passed, the memories of events at the police station had come a little clearer. I could recall Constable Doris standing beside a stern looking man who had clearly out-ranked her. He had glared at me and then turned to Jack.
“Well, sir, in that case we’ll trust you,” the stern cop had said. “But it’ll be on your head if she don’t show.”
“She’ll show,” Jack said.
So, there on the field, I promised twice, just so he knew I was good for it, and Jack was whisked away.
Most of the morning I’d just meandered, enjoying the sunshine and the spectacle. There were caravans parked all around the grounds, delineating the space, and the blue and white-striped awnings were everywhere. I wandered from one to the next, taking in the various exhibits.
Tiny, kilted dancers took turns on a stage, toes pointed and legs kicking as they skipped and twirled, then bit their fingernails nervously afterward, waiting for the results of the judging.
I spent a few anxious moments worrying that I would bump into Hamish, but thankfully the first person I ran into that I knew was Katy from the library.
“Now, this is a surprise! I’d heard ye’d left to go back to America,” she said, after giving me a hug.
“Yes, well, I’m on my way,” I managed.
“Grand, grand,” she sighed. “I’d love tae see America. I’ve been to France a few times and Spain once, but niver across the pond, aye?”
“It’s a big pond,” I said, and then quickly tried not to think too closely about the crossing of it.
“I s’pose ye’ve heard that Hamish has finally gone too, then, the big dunderheid? He’n that new hen o’ his.”
“Hamish is gone? To America?”
She nodded emphatically. “As he allus wanted. And good riddance to the lad, aye?”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wished happiness for him, but mostly? I kinda hoped his Sunshine screwed him as thoroughly as she had me.
“Weel, have a lovely time today,” said Katy, sincerely. “Ah can’t believe ah’m sayin’ this, but I miss seein’ ye at the library. Haven’t had to clear out a single cache since yeh left. No—wait, I’m lyin’. The Jones boys were in lookin’ up pictures of the Duchess of Cambridge—that time before the babies when she were in France, ye know. I did have to clear those out righ’ quick.” With a final kind pat on my arm, she bustled off.