A Trick of the Light by Ali Carter (books for 5 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📗

‘I wish,’ I said with a smile. ‘Do you mind being in charge for a bit? I have to take my car to the garage. I won’t be long.’

‘Très bien.’ Louis blew me a kiss and off I went, breaking into a slow jog round the side of the house.

Bzzzz, my mobile vibrated. Four bars of reception just beyond the end of the Muchtons’ drive. What a surprise. I was not expecting that.

Desperate to know who had been in touch – I’m more a letter-writer than a telephone-chatterer – I pulled over into a passing place.

1 new message Toby Cropper.

I slid my thumb across the screen and deleted it. Why would I want to read a message from Toby? He’d done enough meddling with my mood. I could not stand any more.

But, now I have reception, I think I’ll give Dad a call. I know Mum will be out playing bridge and I want to ask him about ravens, so here goes.

Bring bring. Bring bring. Bring bring. Bring bring. Bring bring. Bring bring. It cut out.

I called back. Bring bring.

‘Hello?’

‘Dad.’

‘Susie, was it you a moment ago?’

‘Yes, I had to give you time to get to the phone.’

He chuckled.

‘Dad, I don’t have long…’

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your mother will want to know.’

‘All’s good but let’s keep this between us. I can fill her in at Easter. I want to know about Alec Ronaldsay.’

‘The Alec Ronaldsay? Don’t tell me you’ve met him? I wish I was with you right now.’

Dad loves anything to do with birds. Ronaldsay’s a hero of his.

‘I haven’t met him but I need to know if he lives near here.’

‘I’m not entirely sure where you are, dear.’

‘Auchen Laggan Tosh.’

‘Well, if Blah-di-Blah Tosh is anywhere near the river Trickle then yes, he certainly does.’

‘Dad, I knew you’d know.’

‘That all, love?’

‘What can you tell me about ravens swarming?’

‘How much time do you have?’

‘Not much.’

‘In that case let’s save it for when we see you. I can’t possibly cut my explanation short.’

‘Okay, Dad.’

Learning about ravens isn’t a key priority right now.

‘See you Saturday, Susie. Bye.’

I rang off and got going. Mike’s Motors was, as Mhàiri had told me, fifteen minutes from the end of the back drive. It was all alone, set back from the road. No houses and no sign of a village nearby. The makeshift reception was bolted onto the end of the garage and the bell on the entrance door tinged as I stepped inside.

‘Afternoon,’ said a sturdy little man. ‘Nice of yous to come.’ He wiped his brow with a very dirty sleeve and, leaving a great smudge of grease behind, he stuck out his hand. ‘Mike.’

‘Hello,’ I said, not knowing what to do other than grasp hold of his grubby mitt.

‘I’ve got the van round the back, all ready to go. New brake pads and all. It won’t let yous down. Only twelve thousand miles on the clock. Yous must return it here, though.’

‘I think there’s a misunderstanding. I’ve come to see if you can fit a new tyre on my car.’

‘Deerie deerie me. Thought yous were the woman hiring the Ford Transit. Said she’d be in to collect it this afternoon. Was certain I’d miss her so said I’d leave the keys round the back but then yous arrived. Not often I get a lady in here.’ Mike slapped his own hand. ‘Silly me ey.’

What a trustworthy place Scotland is; to leave keys and a hire van without feeling the need to meet the hirer is…staggering.

‘Rightie ho then, what was it you’re after?’

‘A new tyre on my car if you can.’

We went out the front. Mike repeated our conversation to himself under his breath as he bent down to take a look at my tyre.

‘Should nee be a problem. Got just the right yun round the back. Mind and drive round that wee corner there and I’ll fit it the noo.’

Behind the garage was a large concreted yard and as I navigated bits of rubber, plastic-bottle tops and old pieces of gutter, Mike guided me between a silver van and three shabby cars parked nose to tail.

‘Right yous are then,’ he said, giving me an unnecessary though thoughtful hand out of the driver’s seat.

‘It should nee take me long. Yous in a hurry?’

‘Not really.’

‘Is that a yes or a no?’ He winked at me. ‘Where are yous headed?’

‘I’m tutoring an art course at Auchen Laggan Tosh.’

‘Wee the Muchtons?’

‘Yes.’

‘Aye, I heard they were doing all sorts up there. Some gud, some bad.’

‘Really?’

‘They’re all at it. Raking in the money no matter whit.’

‘Such as?’

‘Not nice for the community. Divides people, yous ken.’

This was very much a one-way conversation…

‘I’m not saying I condone whit he did.’

‘Who did?’

‘No, no, it was definitely bad whit he did.’

‘Isn’t it terrible when people fall out?’

‘Oh aye. It’s the worst. Yous have to keep the community on side.’

Finally, I had a rapport.

‘It’s selfish if not.’

‘Shell fish? No, no, it’s birds not fish.’

Mike plonked my spare tyre in the boot.

‘So yous was saying it’s art yous are doing?’

‘Yes, it’s a week of painting and drawing.’

‘Oh aye, the lad Ewen’s an artist I seem to remember.’

‘Yes, he is.’

‘To be sure with yous I can never work out which is Ewen and which is Fergus. They look affuy alike that pair.’

Mike dipped into the garage and reappeared rolling a shiny new tyre.

‘This yun okay for yous?’ he asked, nodding at me.

‘It looks great.’

‘I’ve only ever been to the big hoose once. Not in it, mind you. It’s a stonking great thing, ain’t it?’

‘Yes, it’s a lovely place.’

‘Yous friends of theirs?’

‘No, I’m just the tutor for the week.’

‘Thank my lucky socks. I should nee have loosened my tongue. Yous a good girl, you won’t tell them whit I said.’

I smiled but he wasn’t watching, too busy tightening the wheel bolts to the tyre.

‘That’s a lovely job yous have, yous must be happy like me. Life’s too short to do something you dinee want to.’

‘I agree.’

‘No, this ain’t free.’

‘No, no, I was saying I agree.’

‘Acht youse