Annie Christie's To Die For:
Episode Four
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: Summer days.
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I usually liked May. Days stretching out, the wind of the winter and the rain of spring behind and the sense of a summer ahead. I have to admit that this year it wasn’t shaping up well. A month of exams, even if they did herald the chance to escape from the routine. I firmly believed I was done with school. We’d already decided that I wasn’t going to stay on for 6th year. Well, the agreement was that if I got the grades to go straight to uni in 5th year I’d pack my bags. If not, I’d stay on to 6th year and get it sorted. You’d think that was motivation enough to study. But somehow it didn’t seem to be. I wanted out and I was not for hanging round Kirkcudbright any longer than necessary. But there were other things on my mind. One other thing, if I’m honest. It was Freddie. Or the lack of Freddie. Wondering when I might see him, or if I might see him again, was really distracting me. But life had to go on.
The first exam was English. It always is. Swiftly followed by Maths. And no sign of Freddie. By the time of my French exam on Friday 16th, even Christy had given up on me. We both did French – it was our weakest subject – and we came out of the exam relieved it was over. It’s like they say, when you least expect something, it happens.
It was Christy who saw him first.
‘Isn’t that your to die for?’ she asked as we headed across the playground towards the school gates.
I looked. It was. Christy waved at him. I blushed.
‘Don’t, Christy,’ I said. ‘Don’t embarrass me, please.’
She laughed and rushed over to Freddie who was standing, helmet in hand, next to his bike which was parked up along the pavement.
‘Hi, Freddie,’ she said, ‘Heather’s told me all about you, I’m Christy.’
Looking a bit puzzled, he shook her hand.
‘I haven’t,’ I said, ‘I mean, told her all about you… I mean…’
There was an awkward moment in the offing. But Christy decided to give me a break.
‘There’s Ian,’ she said, pointing across the playground to where Ian the Janny was sweeping up after the exodus of school kids. ‘Catch you later. Have fun.’
And she was gone.
‘Have fun?’ Freddie said.
‘She’s… uh… hey, it’s good to see you,’ I said, weakly trying to avoid any more awkwardness.
‘How is your exam?’ he asked.
‘French? It’s not great,’ I said.
‘Will you pass?’ he asked.
‘I hope so,’ I said, ‘I don’t want to be stuck here for another year.’
‘Can we go?’ he asked and he offered me the helmet.
‘What about you?’ I asked. I’d never been on a motorbike before. I wasn’t sure I was allowed. But hey, I was in charge of my own destiny now, wasn’t I, or near as.
‘Where to?’ I asked. Lame. It didn’t matter where to, I’d go anywhere with him, I knew that. I wondered if he knew that too.
‘The forest,’ he said.
‘Oh, okay,’ I said.
‘Tonight is a full moon,’ he said. ‘I want to find a good place to view.’
‘Uh, I’ll have to be home for tea,’ I said.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I just want you to show me some places.’
Now I was wracking my brains with a vengeance. Where the hell could we see the best full moon in the Forest Park. I had no idea. I didn’t really even know which way we should be pointing to see the moon. I’d never paid that much attention to it. But I had to make a decision. The only place I could think of was Clatteringshaws.
‘Clatteringshaws,’ I said.
‘Yes?’ he said.
‘Do you know how to get there?’ I asked.
‘You are the guide,’ he said.
‘Uh, it’s a pretty straight route,’ I said.
‘Then get on,’ he said, ‘and we will drive straight, and when you need me to change direction you squeeze me tight, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I said. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
I pulled on the helmet. Hopped on behind him as he revved up the bike, hoping against hope that no one would see me, especially not Duggie, though he was probably still in class as our exam had finished before the regular school bell. I didn’t want anyone telling my parents this. I had a fairly good idea they’d disapprove. But I didn’t have time to ask them. I had to do this.
We took off, heading out of Kirkcudbright on the A762, which is as straight a road as they get around our way, and threads its way north right up to New Galloway, where the road turns left towards Clatteringshaws Loch. I was nervous for a bit, but soon started to enjoy it. I can’t say ‘the wind in my hair’ because that cliché isn’t appropriate when you’re stuck in a helmet, but the wind in my face was a pretty good feeling, and holding Freddie’s leathers tight round his waist was even better.
We’d gone a few miles and he pulled in to the side, around Woodhall Loch.
‘Have you ridden a bike before?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Why?’
‘It is helpful to me if you will lean into the turns,’ he said.
‘Oh, okay,’ I replied. ‘Sorry.’
He smiled. ‘No need for sorry, Heather. I should have explained.’
And back on we got.
We carried on up the road until we came to the bottom end of the cut through that is the Raiders Road. I knew that Freddie had been talking about forest, and I knew that Clatteringshaws is a wide open view, so I thought maybe we should take the forest drive. My dad often did this when taking us to Clatteringshaws. Mum always wanted to go on up to New Galloway, mainly because it’s where she grew up and she still has friends there – and she would beg off the Clatteringshaws family walks and stay there chatting – but as often as not we’d go through the forest. The road wasn’t as good as the main one, but I thought Freddie would prefer it. I should at least give him the choice.
So I took him up on the offer to squeeze, and he took the cue to stop.
I explained to him that we had an option of two routes. As I’d expected, he opted for the one through the Forest.
We picked our way along it, pretty slowly, and I’m sure it was as much because Freddie was soaking in the view as taking care not to puncture a tyre. Who could blame him? In my opinion it’s one of the great rural roads. Sure, they charge you a couple of quid to drive it – I’d forgotten to point that out, but decided I’d come clean on the way back – but it’s worth every penny and more.
Eventually we came out at Clatteringshaws. While the view of the Loch is great, it’s kind of underwhelming after The Raiders Road. The loch side car park and visitor centre are jarring to the eye after even a short time in the forest. I could tell that Freddie was equally underwhelmed.
‘Is this the place?’ he said.
‘It’s a place,’ I replied. ‘Probably a very good view of the moon here at night. I’ve never been.’
‘You’ve never seen the moon here?’ he asked.
I shook my head.
‘It’s a full moon tonight,’ he said, as if I should know that.
‘I’d love to see it… with you,’ I said, hoping that didn’t sound as pathetic when it came out as it had when it left my brain.
‘Why not?’ he said.
‘I’m not sure my parents…’ I started.
‘Ah, yes,’ he replied. ‘Shall we go and ask them?’
I could just see that conversation. ‘Hi mum and dad, this is Freddie, he’s German, I don’t know anything about him but he’s got a motorbike and he wants me to go to the Forest Park and look at the full moon with him. What do you say?’ I knew what they’d say. I thought my mum would spit the dummy at the word bike and my dad wouldn’t get further than – full moon – boy –
Freddie must have noticed.
‘Problem?’ he said.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It’s not the sort of thing I’ve asked before.’
‘We shall go,’ he said and hopped back on the bike.
I took him back the New Galloway route and we pulled up outside my house just as my mum was coming back from her shift. I cursed myself for a fool. But there was no way to avoid it now.
‘It’s my mum,’ I said to Freddie as he pulled to a halt and took off his helmet.
‘We shall ask her,’ he said.
I couldn’t believe it. Before I had time to get my helmet fully off, and before my mum had time to take it all in and hit the proverbial roof, Freddie was shaking her hand.
‘I am Freddie,’ he said. ‘From Germany. Heather has been showing me around. I hope you do not mind that I have taken her on my bike. I am a safe driver.’
My mum was gobsmacked. I wondered what would happen next.
‘I am an artist,’ he carried on. ‘I have come to paint the light in the forest and Heather has been most helpful. We met in the art shop.’
‘Oh,’ mum said. I could tell she was scunnered. Then she bounced right back.
‘Would you like to have tea with us, Freddie?’ she asked.
I fully expected him to say no. He said yes. I was in some kind of parallel universe. This was less expected than a lottery win.
So in we went. My mum treated Freddie to one of her legendary spaghetti Bolognese dinners and tried to ‘get to know him better’.
Duggie stuck his oar in as soon as possible.
‘Can I get a shot on your bike?’ he asked.
‘You’re too young,’ mum said. That was about it from Duggie. He huffed through the rest of the meal and absented himself as soon as possible afterwards.
‘Off to stalk Christy?’ I whispered to him as he left.
He stuck out his tongue at me. ‘You’ve got what you wanted,’ he said, ‘let me do what I want, eh?’
He had a point. I left him to it, and turned my attention back to Freddie who was now in conversation with my dad.
‘So you’re an artist,’ dad said – he’d come late to the party and was trying to catch up.
‘Yes, sir,’ Freddie said.
‘Call me Ted,’ dad said.
That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
‘Why painting rather than photography?’ dad asked. ‘I always think that the best way to capture nature is through the camera.’
Freddie solemnly shook his head. ‘No, Ted,’ he replied. ‘Photographs tell one story, but for the soul… you need to paint.’
‘I’m sure there’s plenty here would agree with you, son,’ dad replied. ‘I can’t see it myself though.’
‘That’s just cause most of the painters here are such crap, dad,’ I said, hoping to defend Freddie, though in my heart I did have a lot of sympathy with my dad. I’d not seen many pictures that could match a good photograph of Galloway.
‘I can show you something,’ Freddie said. ‘If you will excuse me one moment.’
Looking back, I realise he was playing a clever game. Instead of getting the third degree about who he was and where he came from and where he was staying – all those mundane things that people want to know in order to judge how ‘safe’ or ‘decent’ or ‘normal’ another person is, he had cranked it up into an artistic challenge.
Freddie went out to the bike and from the back pannier, where he also kept my spare helmet (I already thought of it as mine) he brought what I can only call a ‘contraption’.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘It’s a light show,’ he said, as if that explained it.
Dinner cleared away, he sat us all down, in a darkened room, and rigging up a light source with Duggie’s spare bike light, he began to amaze us. We thought it was just going to be a kind of slide show.
‘Caspar David Friedrich invented the transparency,’ he said as he showed us what we imagined was some kind of slide. ‘All his transparencies are lost but one. It is called ‘Elblandschaft bei Dresden’, which means mountainous landscape of the river Elbe near Dresden. I come from Dresden. I have made a copy of this transparency so that you can see how the original would have been.
A bit of fiddling and up came the image. It was a daytime landscape. The sky was a paleish blue.
Then the magic happened.
‘You see,’ Freddie explained, ‘this is the daytime picture. And if I turn the slide round…’
The picture’s light blue’s transformed into a rich red evening landscape.
‘Oh, it’s fair bonny,’ mum said.
‘All this is done by painting two sides of the transparency,’ Freddie said, clearly in his element.
‘It looks like a photograph,’ I said. It was the obvious thing to say. Stupid, perhaps, but obvious and I didn’t know what else to say.
‘Yes, but Friedrich achieved this in eighteen thirty,’ Freddie said.
‘Boy,’ dad whistled. ‘That’s pretty good. Did you paint that yourself then, son?’
‘It’s a combination of watercolour and tempera,’ Freddie explained. He handed dad the transparency and dad gingerly held the sides, looking carefully at it from both sides.
‘What’s tempera?’ I asked
‘An emulsion, with egg,’ Freddie said.
Dad was still engrossed in the picture.
‘It looks a bit like…’ he began.
Freddie was right onto him. ‘You know a place like this?’ he asked.
‘Uh, yeah. It’s a fair step from here, like,’ dad said. ‘In the forest park.’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask you, dad,’ I said. ‘Freddie is looking for places to do more paintings like this and I said I’d help him.’
‘You?’ mum said. ‘What do you know…’
‘When we go into the forest with dad, mum. I do pay attention,’ I said, hoping she wasn’t going to embarrass me further.
‘Can you remember the place that looks like that picture?’ dad said.
‘Uh, I think so,’ I said. ‘But the thing is dad, Freddie wants to paint the full moon tonight, from the forest. I thought Clatteringshaws…’
‘I don’t know,’ mum said.
‘It’s Friday night,’ I said. ‘I don’t even have work tomorrow, and my next exam’s not till the end of the week.
‘Is Clatteringshaws the best place?’ dad asked.
‘I’m not sure that I’m keen on you driving around the countryside in the dark,’ mum started.
‘But it’s a full moon, mum,’ I said, ‘there’s lots of light. That’s the whole point.’
‘I would be most appreciative,’ Freddie said. ‘I will not be here for too much more time and I would really like to see the moon from the best place. I will take most care of Heather if she can show me.’
Dad overruled mum. ‘Clatteringshaws will give you a good view, son,’ he said. ‘Mind, it’s not the view of that picture you showed, but I’ll need to put my thinking cap on for that.’
Dad drove all over the region for his work, so he was pretty clued up on what various parts of the forest looked like. I could tell that he was proud to have someone come all the way from Germany looking for a particular spot and that he’d do everything he could to find it for Freddie. Which was great. Except that I wanted to be the one to help Freddie find what he was looking for.
‘I will be most grateful to you,’ Freddie said. ‘And I am most grateful to you for the meal, Mrs…’
‘Sue,’ mum said. ‘It’s Ted and Sue to you, son.’
‘Thank you,’ he replied.
‘And you’d best set off now if you want to get up there well before the sunset,’ mum said.
Sounds like I was cleared to go.
‘Just make sure you come back before eleven,’ mum said.
‘Midnight,’ dad said. ‘They’ve got to see the moon in all its glory, after all, and it’ll take them a wee while to get back.’
It was agreed. We’d go to Clatteringshaws. Freddie could see the full moon, do some sketches and then bring me back, slowly and safely to be home by the witching hour. By my calculations that meant I had him to myself for a good four hours. I couldn’t believe my luck.
‘You kept that one quiet,’ my dad said to me as he followed me on the way out the door.
‘Didn’t mean to, dad,’ I said, ‘he’s just a friend. I didn’t think it was worth…’
He tousled my hair. ‘Yeah, right,’ he replied. ‘Just be careful, Heather.’
‘Of what?’ I asked.
‘He’s a good looking boy,’ dad said.
‘And?’ I replied, trying to look more worldly wise than I felt.
‘And… lean into the curves on the bike,’ dad said and winked.
‘Yeah, I’ve got that, dad,’ I replied.
‘And, Heather…’
‘What dad?’
‘Hold on tight.’
He reminded Freddie to take care on the drive and Freddie promised he would. He told Freddie to come back and see us again, and he’d be sure to put his mind to thinking about where ‘that place’ was.
And off we went.
There was no time to talk while we sped back towards Clatteringshaws, backs to the sunset all the way. We got there just in time to see it go down and sat at the deserted picnic benches by the loch in silence for a bit.
‘That went well,’ I said, finally breaking the silence.
‘They are good people,’ Freddie said.
I tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but he didn’t seem to want to speak. He was busy scribbling on his pad and I felt like I was disturbing him.
‘I haven’t much time,’ he said when I tried lamely to attract his attention with some mundanity.
‘I’m sorry we have to be back by midnight,’ I said.
‘It’s not your fault,’ he said. ‘Your parents are caring for you.’
Silence.
‘But I must work just now, Heather.’
It wasn’t the date I imagined. If I’m honest there’s only so much looking at a full moon and clouds that I can do. I spent as much time looking at Freddie, but he was fully pre-occupied in his own world. I guess that’s what it’s like hanging out with a real artist, I told myself. At least I was out there with him. Twelve hours ago I was convinced I’d never even see him again. Now he’d met, and charmed, my parents and here I was sharing a romantic moonlit date with him in a beautiful… what had I to complain about? It’s just that it wasn’t how I’d imagined it to be.
He was punctilious about the time. Made sure he got me home with a good ten minutes to spare. He didn’t even try to kiss me. I began to wonder if he really wasn’t interested in me at all.
‘Will I see y0u again?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ he smiled, and all my fears were forgotten.
‘After your exams we will go out into the forest to find the place, yes?’
It sounded great, in theory. It’s just that my last exam, Modern Studies, wasn’t till the 30th May and that felt like a long time to wait for the story to be continued.
‘What will you do for the next fortnight?’ I asked.
‘I’ll paint,’ he replied. Simple and straightforward. Well, I’d asked after all.
‘Okay. And when my exams are finished and…’
Then he kissed me. It was only on the cheek but it was a kiss and I was claiming it.
‘Then we will go into the forest, you and me,’ he said. ‘And we will find what we are looking for, yes?’
I smiled.
‘See you, then,’ I said, trying to sound cool. It took all my best efforts not to turn round as I walked up the path, but before I’d reached the door I could hear his bike revving up. Only then did I sneak a look. And went inside.
Swearwords: None.
Description: Summer days.
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I usually liked May. Days stretching out, the wind of the winter and the rain of spring behind and the sense of a summer ahead. I have to admit that this year it wasn’t shaping up well. A month of exams, even if they did herald the chance to escape from the routine. I firmly believed I was done with school. We’d already decided that I wasn’t going to stay on for 6th year. Well, the agreement was that if I got the grades to go straight to uni in 5th year I’d pack my bags. If not, I’d stay on to 6th year and get it sorted. You’d think that was motivation enough to study. But somehow it didn’t seem to be. I wanted out and I was not for hanging round Kirkcudbright any longer than necessary. But there were other things on my mind. One other thing, if I’m honest. It was Freddie. Or the lack of Freddie. Wondering when I might see him, or if I might see him again, was really distracting me. But life had to go on.
The first exam was English. It always is. Swiftly followed by Maths. And no sign of Freddie. By the time of my French exam on Friday 16th, even Christy had given up on me. We both did French – it was our weakest subject – and we came out of the exam relieved it was over. It’s like they say, when you least expect something, it happens.
It was Christy who saw him first.
‘Isn’t that your to die for?’ she asked as we headed across the playground towards the school gates.
I looked. It was. Christy waved at him. I blushed.
‘Don’t, Christy,’ I said. ‘Don’t embarrass me, please.’
She laughed and rushed over to Freddie who was standing, helmet in hand, next to his bike which was parked up along the pavement.
‘Hi, Freddie,’ she said, ‘Heather’s told me all about you, I’m Christy.’
Looking a bit puzzled, he shook her hand.
‘I haven’t,’ I said, ‘I mean, told her all about you… I mean…’
There was an awkward moment in the offing. But Christy decided to give me a break.
‘There’s Ian,’ she said, pointing across the playground to where Ian the Janny was sweeping up after the exodus of school kids. ‘Catch you later. Have fun.’
And she was gone.
‘Have fun?’ Freddie said.
‘She’s… uh… hey, it’s good to see you,’ I said, weakly trying to avoid any more awkwardness.
‘How is your exam?’ he asked.
‘French? It’s not great,’ I said.
‘Will you pass?’ he asked.
‘I hope so,’ I said, ‘I don’t want to be stuck here for another year.’
‘Can we go?’ he asked and he offered me the helmet.
‘What about you?’ I asked. I’d never been on a motorbike before. I wasn’t sure I was allowed. But hey, I was in charge of my own destiny now, wasn’t I, or near as.
‘Where to?’ I asked. Lame. It didn’t matter where to, I’d go anywhere with him, I knew that. I wondered if he knew that too.
‘The forest,’ he said.
‘Oh, okay,’ I said.
‘Tonight is a full moon,’ he said. ‘I want to find a good place to view.’
‘Uh, I’ll have to be home for tea,’ I said.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I just want you to show me some places.’
Now I was wracking my brains with a vengeance. Where the hell could we see the best full moon in the Forest Park. I had no idea. I didn’t really even know which way we should be pointing to see the moon. I’d never paid that much attention to it. But I had to make a decision. The only place I could think of was Clatteringshaws.
‘Clatteringshaws,’ I said.
‘Yes?’ he said.
‘Do you know how to get there?’ I asked.
‘You are the guide,’ he said.
‘Uh, it’s a pretty straight route,’ I said.
‘Then get on,’ he said, ‘and we will drive straight, and when you need me to change direction you squeeze me tight, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I said. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
I pulled on the helmet. Hopped on behind him as he revved up the bike, hoping against hope that no one would see me, especially not Duggie, though he was probably still in class as our exam had finished before the regular school bell. I didn’t want anyone telling my parents this. I had a fairly good idea they’d disapprove. But I didn’t have time to ask them. I had to do this.
We took off, heading out of Kirkcudbright on the A762, which is as straight a road as they get around our way, and threads its way north right up to New Galloway, where the road turns left towards Clatteringshaws Loch. I was nervous for a bit, but soon started to enjoy it. I can’t say ‘the wind in my hair’ because that cliché isn’t appropriate when you’re stuck in a helmet, but the wind in my face was a pretty good feeling, and holding Freddie’s leathers tight round his waist was even better.
We’d gone a few miles and he pulled in to the side, around Woodhall Loch.
‘Have you ridden a bike before?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Why?’
‘It is helpful to me if you will lean into the turns,’ he said.
‘Oh, okay,’ I replied. ‘Sorry.’
He smiled. ‘No need for sorry, Heather. I should have explained.’
And back on we got.
We carried on up the road until we came to the bottom end of the cut through that is the Raiders Road. I knew that Freddie had been talking about forest, and I knew that Clatteringshaws is a wide open view, so I thought maybe we should take the forest drive. My dad often did this when taking us to Clatteringshaws. Mum always wanted to go on up to New Galloway, mainly because it’s where she grew up and she still has friends there – and she would beg off the Clatteringshaws family walks and stay there chatting – but as often as not we’d go through the forest. The road wasn’t as good as the main one, but I thought Freddie would prefer it. I should at least give him the choice.
So I took him up on the offer to squeeze, and he took the cue to stop.
I explained to him that we had an option of two routes. As I’d expected, he opted for the one through the Forest.
We picked our way along it, pretty slowly, and I’m sure it was as much because Freddie was soaking in the view as taking care not to puncture a tyre. Who could blame him? In my opinion it’s one of the great rural roads. Sure, they charge you a couple of quid to drive it – I’d forgotten to point that out, but decided I’d come clean on the way back – but it’s worth every penny and more.
Eventually we came out at Clatteringshaws. While the view of the Loch is great, it’s kind of underwhelming after The Raiders Road. The loch side car park and visitor centre are jarring to the eye after even a short time in the forest. I could tell that Freddie was equally underwhelmed.
‘Is this the place?’ he said.
‘It’s a place,’ I replied. ‘Probably a very good view of the moon here at night. I’ve never been.’
‘You’ve never seen the moon here?’ he asked.
I shook my head.
‘It’s a full moon tonight,’ he said, as if I should know that.
‘I’d love to see it… with you,’ I said, hoping that didn’t sound as pathetic when it came out as it had when it left my brain.
‘Why not?’ he said.
‘I’m not sure my parents…’ I started.
‘Ah, yes,’ he replied. ‘Shall we go and ask them?’
I could just see that conversation. ‘Hi mum and dad, this is Freddie, he’s German, I don’t know anything about him but he’s got a motorbike and he wants me to go to the Forest Park and look at the full moon with him. What do you say?’ I knew what they’d say. I thought my mum would spit the dummy at the word bike and my dad wouldn’t get further than – full moon – boy –
Freddie must have noticed.
‘Problem?’ he said.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It’s not the sort of thing I’ve asked before.’
‘We shall go,’ he said and hopped back on the bike.
I took him back the New Galloway route and we pulled up outside my house just as my mum was coming back from her shift. I cursed myself for a fool. But there was no way to avoid it now.
‘It’s my mum,’ I said to Freddie as he pulled to a halt and took off his helmet.
‘We shall ask her,’ he said.
I couldn’t believe it. Before I had time to get my helmet fully off, and before my mum had time to take it all in and hit the proverbial roof, Freddie was shaking her hand.
‘I am Freddie,’ he said. ‘From Germany. Heather has been showing me around. I hope you do not mind that I have taken her on my bike. I am a safe driver.’
My mum was gobsmacked. I wondered what would happen next.
‘I am an artist,’ he carried on. ‘I have come to paint the light in the forest and Heather has been most helpful. We met in the art shop.’
‘Oh,’ mum said. I could tell she was scunnered. Then she bounced right back.
‘Would you like to have tea with us, Freddie?’ she asked.
I fully expected him to say no. He said yes. I was in some kind of parallel universe. This was less expected than a lottery win.
So in we went. My mum treated Freddie to one of her legendary spaghetti Bolognese dinners and tried to ‘get to know him better’.
Duggie stuck his oar in as soon as possible.
‘Can I get a shot on your bike?’ he asked.
‘You’re too young,’ mum said. That was about it from Duggie. He huffed through the rest of the meal and absented himself as soon as possible afterwards.
‘Off to stalk Christy?’ I whispered to him as he left.
He stuck out his tongue at me. ‘You’ve got what you wanted,’ he said, ‘let me do what I want, eh?’
He had a point. I left him to it, and turned my attention back to Freddie who was now in conversation with my dad.
‘So you’re an artist,’ dad said – he’d come late to the party and was trying to catch up.
‘Yes, sir,’ Freddie said.
‘Call me Ted,’ dad said.
That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
‘Why painting rather than photography?’ dad asked. ‘I always think that the best way to capture nature is through the camera.’
Freddie solemnly shook his head. ‘No, Ted,’ he replied. ‘Photographs tell one story, but for the soul… you need to paint.’
‘I’m sure there’s plenty here would agree with you, son,’ dad replied. ‘I can’t see it myself though.’
‘That’s just cause most of the painters here are such crap, dad,’ I said, hoping to defend Freddie, though in my heart I did have a lot of sympathy with my dad. I’d not seen many pictures that could match a good photograph of Galloway.
‘I can show you something,’ Freddie said. ‘If you will excuse me one moment.’
Looking back, I realise he was playing a clever game. Instead of getting the third degree about who he was and where he came from and where he was staying – all those mundane things that people want to know in order to judge how ‘safe’ or ‘decent’ or ‘normal’ another person is, he had cranked it up into an artistic challenge.
Freddie went out to the bike and from the back pannier, where he also kept my spare helmet (I already thought of it as mine) he brought what I can only call a ‘contraption’.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘It’s a light show,’ he said, as if that explained it.
Dinner cleared away, he sat us all down, in a darkened room, and rigging up a light source with Duggie’s spare bike light, he began to amaze us. We thought it was just going to be a kind of slide show.
‘Caspar David Friedrich invented the transparency,’ he said as he showed us what we imagined was some kind of slide. ‘All his transparencies are lost but one. It is called ‘Elblandschaft bei Dresden’, which means mountainous landscape of the river Elbe near Dresden. I come from Dresden. I have made a copy of this transparency so that you can see how the original would have been.
A bit of fiddling and up came the image. It was a daytime landscape. The sky was a paleish blue.
Then the magic happened.
‘You see,’ Freddie explained, ‘this is the daytime picture. And if I turn the slide round…’
The picture’s light blue’s transformed into a rich red evening landscape.
‘Oh, it’s fair bonny,’ mum said.
‘All this is done by painting two sides of the transparency,’ Freddie said, clearly in his element.
‘It looks like a photograph,’ I said. It was the obvious thing to say. Stupid, perhaps, but obvious and I didn’t know what else to say.
‘Yes, but Friedrich achieved this in eighteen thirty,’ Freddie said.
‘Boy,’ dad whistled. ‘That’s pretty good. Did you paint that yourself then, son?’
‘It’s a combination of watercolour and tempera,’ Freddie explained. He handed dad the transparency and dad gingerly held the sides, looking carefully at it from both sides.
‘What’s tempera?’ I asked
‘An emulsion, with egg,’ Freddie said.
Dad was still engrossed in the picture.
‘It looks a bit like…’ he began.
Freddie was right onto him. ‘You know a place like this?’ he asked.
‘Uh, yeah. It’s a fair step from here, like,’ dad said. ‘In the forest park.’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask you, dad,’ I said. ‘Freddie is looking for places to do more paintings like this and I said I’d help him.’
‘You?’ mum said. ‘What do you know…’
‘When we go into the forest with dad, mum. I do pay attention,’ I said, hoping she wasn’t going to embarrass me further.
‘Can you remember the place that looks like that picture?’ dad said.
‘Uh, I think so,’ I said. ‘But the thing is dad, Freddie wants to paint the full moon tonight, from the forest. I thought Clatteringshaws…’
‘I don’t know,’ mum said.
‘It’s Friday night,’ I said. ‘I don’t even have work tomorrow, and my next exam’s not till the end of the week.
‘Is Clatteringshaws the best place?’ dad asked.
‘I’m not sure that I’m keen on you driving around the countryside in the dark,’ mum started.
‘But it’s a full moon, mum,’ I said, ‘there’s lots of light. That’s the whole point.’
‘I would be most appreciative,’ Freddie said. ‘I will not be here for too much more time and I would really like to see the moon from the best place. I will take most care of Heather if she can show me.’
Dad overruled mum. ‘Clatteringshaws will give you a good view, son,’ he said. ‘Mind, it’s not the view of that picture you showed, but I’ll need to put my thinking cap on for that.’
Dad drove all over the region for his work, so he was pretty clued up on what various parts of the forest looked like. I could tell that he was proud to have someone come all the way from Germany looking for a particular spot and that he’d do everything he could to find it for Freddie. Which was great. Except that I wanted to be the one to help Freddie find what he was looking for.
‘I will be most grateful to you,’ Freddie said. ‘And I am most grateful to you for the meal, Mrs…’
‘Sue,’ mum said. ‘It’s Ted and Sue to you, son.’
‘Thank you,’ he replied.
‘And you’d best set off now if you want to get up there well before the sunset,’ mum said.
Sounds like I was cleared to go.
‘Just make sure you come back before eleven,’ mum said.
‘Midnight,’ dad said. ‘They’ve got to see the moon in all its glory, after all, and it’ll take them a wee while to get back.’
It was agreed. We’d go to Clatteringshaws. Freddie could see the full moon, do some sketches and then bring me back, slowly and safely to be home by the witching hour. By my calculations that meant I had him to myself for a good four hours. I couldn’t believe my luck.
‘You kept that one quiet,’ my dad said to me as he followed me on the way out the door.
‘Didn’t mean to, dad,’ I said, ‘he’s just a friend. I didn’t think it was worth…’
He tousled my hair. ‘Yeah, right,’ he replied. ‘Just be careful, Heather.’
‘Of what?’ I asked.
‘He’s a good looking boy,’ dad said.
‘And?’ I replied, trying to look more worldly wise than I felt.
‘And… lean into the curves on the bike,’ dad said and winked.
‘Yeah, I’ve got that, dad,’ I replied.
‘And, Heather…’
‘What dad?’
‘Hold on tight.’
He reminded Freddie to take care on the drive and Freddie promised he would. He told Freddie to come back and see us again, and he’d be sure to put his mind to thinking about where ‘that place’ was.
And off we went.
There was no time to talk while we sped back towards Clatteringshaws, backs to the sunset all the way. We got there just in time to see it go down and sat at the deserted picnic benches by the loch in silence for a bit.
‘That went well,’ I said, finally breaking the silence.
‘They are good people,’ Freddie said.
I tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but he didn’t seem to want to speak. He was busy scribbling on his pad and I felt like I was disturbing him.
‘I haven’t much time,’ he said when I tried lamely to attract his attention with some mundanity.
‘I’m sorry we have to be back by midnight,’ I said.
‘It’s not your fault,’ he said. ‘Your parents are caring for you.’
Silence.
‘But I must work just now, Heather.’
It wasn’t the date I imagined. If I’m honest there’s only so much looking at a full moon and clouds that I can do. I spent as much time looking at Freddie, but he was fully pre-occupied in his own world. I guess that’s what it’s like hanging out with a real artist, I told myself. At least I was out there with him. Twelve hours ago I was convinced I’d never even see him again. Now he’d met, and charmed, my parents and here I was sharing a romantic moonlit date with him in a beautiful… what had I to complain about? It’s just that it wasn’t how I’d imagined it to be.
He was punctilious about the time. Made sure he got me home with a good ten minutes to spare. He didn’t even try to kiss me. I began to wonder if he really wasn’t interested in me at all.
‘Will I see y0u again?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ he smiled, and all my fears were forgotten.
‘After your exams we will go out into the forest to find the place, yes?’
It sounded great, in theory. It’s just that my last exam, Modern Studies, wasn’t till the 30th May and that felt like a long time to wait for the story to be continued.
‘What will you do for the next fortnight?’ I asked.
‘I’ll paint,’ he replied. Simple and straightforward. Well, I’d asked after all.
‘Okay. And when my exams are finished and…’
Then he kissed me. It was only on the cheek but it was a kiss and I was claiming it.
‘Then we will go into the forest, you and me,’ he said. ‘And we will find what we are looking for, yes?’
I smiled.
‘See you, then,’ I said, trying to sound cool. It took all my best efforts not to turn round as I walked up the path, but before I’d reached the door I could hear his bike revving up. Only then did I sneak a look. And went inside.
About the Author
Annie Christie is a pretty ordinary person, except that she was born Annie Christie and then married a man called Christie and so is still called Christie despite having taken on her husband’s name. She sometimes wonders if she should have called herself Christie-Christie: but who would believe that?
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
To Die For is Annie's second McSerial written for McStorytellers.
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
To Die For is Annie's second McSerial written for McStorytellers.