The Crow Road

"… jobbie, jobbie; big smelly jobbie!"

In the last game, Ke

Later, they played in the tangling undergrowth of the walled garden, and found an old over-grown fountain with the stone statue of a naked lady in it, and an old shed at one corner where there were ancient tins and jars and bottles with Victorian-looking writing on them. The rain came on for a while and they all stayed in there, Fergus complaining about his bike rusting, his sister and Ke

"Of course, we haven't moved all the bottles yet," Fergus said, pointing with his pipe at the still unfilled racks that covered the wall of the cellar. The cellar was painted white, and lit by naked bulbs; wires hung and there were unplastered holes for cables and plumbing leading through the walls and up to other floors. The wood and metal wine racks gleamed, as did the two hundred or so bottles that had already been stored.

"Should keep you going for a bit, eh, Fergus?" he gri

"Mmm. We were thinking of touring a few vineyards next summer," Urvill said, scratching his thick chin with his pipe. "Bordeaux; the Loire, that sort of thing. Don't know if you and Mary fancy making a foursome or not, hmm?"

Fergus blinked. Ke

"Oh," Fergus said, frowning as he picked a little sliver of tobacco off his Pringle sweater. "We weren't thinking of taking the children."

"Ah, well, no; of course not," Ke

It was that cellar, he thought to himself as he followed Fergus's Hush Puppies up the steps. That was where I hid with Emma Urvill, and kissed her. That cellar; I'm sure it was that one. And that window I was looking out earlier; that was the one I hid in that day, nearly thirty years ago; I'm certain.

He felt a terrible weight of time and loss settle on him then, and a slight feeling of resentment at the Urvills in general and Fergus in particular, for having — with so little thought — stolen part of his memories from him. At least malice might have acknowledged the value of his nostalgia.

"Ferg, this dishwasher's like a Chinese Puzzle," Fiona stood up from the recalcitrant machine, then saw her brother and smiled broadly, came towards him, hugging.

"Hiya, Ken. Been getting the guided tour, have you?"

"Yes; very impressive." Ke

Fiona Urvill, nee McHoan, wore old flared Levis and a loose green blouse knotted over a white T-shirt. Her copper-coloured hair was tied back. "How're you?"

"Oh, I'm well," Ke

"Appears to be written in code, my dear," Fergus said, scratching the side of his head with his pipe. Ke

"How's school?" Fiona asked her brother.

"Och, getting on," he said. "Getting on." He had been promoted to Principal Teacher in English the previous autumn. His sister always wanted to know how things were going at the high school, but he usually felt reluctant to talk about work around her and Fergus. He wasn't sure why, and he suspected he probably wouldn't like acknowledging the reason, if he ever did work it out. He was even more chary about revealing he was writing down some of the stories he'd told the kids over the years, hoping to publish them some day. He was worried people might think he was trying to out-do Rory, or — worse still — think he hoped to use him as a contact, an easy way in.

"No, I tell a lie," Fergus admitted. "Here's the English bit. Well, American, anyway." He sighed, then looked round. "Talking about English-speaking furriners, McHoan; you still all right for the International next Saturday?"

"Oh aye," Ke

"Umm, thought we'd take the Morgan, actually."

"Oh God, Fergus, must we? I'm not sure I can find my bobblehat."

"Oh, come on man," Fergus chuckled. Thought we'd try a new route: down to Kintyre; across to Arran, Lochranza to Brodick; Land Ardrossan and then the A71 to the A of the N. Strikes and power cuts permitting, of course."

"Fergus," Ke

Fergus looked troubled, stood up. "Oh, it must, mustn't it? Well, I think it does."

"Might be best to check."

"Righty-oh, will do."

"Anyway, couldn't we take the Rover?" Ke

"Oh, come on man, where's your sense of occasion?" Fergus chided. The hotel won't let us into the car park if we show up in the Rover,"

"Oh God," Ke

"Positively ancient, Ken."

"Thanks. How're the twins?"

"Oh, glowing."

"Still taking them to Windscale for their hols then, are you?"

"Ha! Oh, Ken, you're still so comparatively witty."

"Have you tried switching it on?" Fergus suggested, squatting on the floor in front of the dishwasher again. His voice echoed inside the machine as he tried to stick his head inside amongst the racks.

"Don't be catty, Ferg," Fiona told him. She smiled at her brother. "Haven't seen young Rory out here for a while, and he never calls us; he okay?"