Kirkfale, Scotland,
3 weeks ago
“I declare Mary’s Shoes open.” Michael watched as his wife squeezed the over-sized black-
handled scissors and snipped the red ribbon that had been draped in front of the glass doors to
her brand new shop. He was quite surprised how quickly she had managed to set everything
up. He remembered the phone call from a complete stranger telling Mary she would have
everything she needed to open up within six months. He still thought there was some hidden
catch, there always is, but he chose to ignore it for Mary"s sake, why look a gift horse in the
mouth? he reassured himself.
Michael recalled the journey just before entering Kirkfale. The luscious mountains,
picturesque rivers and waterfalls, created a location fit for gods. The village was located at the
base of the valley, with an ancient and derelict wall built around it. The original gateway still
stood, but was now more for decoration than purpose; simply a physical remembrance to the
village"s heritage. On the east of the village, beyond the wall, was the boarding school. With its
numerous towers and wings built into the mountain face, it resembled a medieval castle rather
than a high-achieving school. It was slightly elevated above the village, perhaps indicative of its
perceived importance, Michael could not be sure. He had dated the construction back as far as
the early 14th century, but he knew looks could be deceiving.
Looking around at the gathered villagers, most of whom he had already spoken to, Michael
quickly discovered he had to concentrate really hard to understand, given their broad Scottish
dialect. He liked how they were close-knit; everyone seemed to know everyone else and they
were caring enough to hold a street party for Mary"s shop opening, or perhaps it was just an
excuse for a party. He smiled a little when he surveyed the high street, shops and businesses
lining the single, winding street for about half a mile into the village. Beyond that, there was not
much to account for either. Kirkfale, it would seem, was home to just under one hundred people
and approximately one quarter of them were children who attended the boarding school.
Michael found it strange that such a reputable school, according to Ofsted, was situated in the
mountains near one of the smallest villages he had ever visited; but again, he chose to
concentrate on other things, like Mrs. Doherty"s cream and jam scones.
Tucking into his fourth scone, Michael recalled how it was only 6 months ago he had first
heard of Kirkfale. Even the so-called prestigious boarding school, classed as one of the top in
the UK, was new to him. He glanced over towards the school, but, as he expected, could not
see it for trees and buildings of the village, perhaps just as well, these scones are so delicious.
He put the last bit of the scone into his mouth and looked around the street. He saw villagers
meandering in Mary’s Shop looking at the old photos that were left in the building for the big
opening day. Mary had felt obliged to display them along with some shoe designs she had
already created before arriving. She was talking to someone outside her shop and was smiling
and laughing a lot. Perhaps, we will be happy here.
Farmer Gallagher, his wife, Amanda, and their son, Thomas, were standing near a green
tractor with a sign posted just to the left offering tractor rides to the children. There was a queue
of children looking very excited. Next to them was a face painting stand, again with a line of
children waiting patiently. Mr. and Mrs. Doherty were next with their cream and jam scones.
Then the local policeman stood almost to attention, if it were not for the cup of beverage in his
hand. Michael had not been able to speak with him yet and so made a mental note to introduce
himself later when the party had died down. Michael looked at the policemen over the rim of his
tea cup, pretending to savour the taste of Mrs. Danderson"s delicious tea. He stood taller than
Michael with a clean shaven face and cropped hair. His helmet lay on the ground next to him.
His uniform seemed in pristine condition; perhaps he had pressed it that morning for the party.
Michael noticed the officer was looking straight at him, as if he were staring right into his soul. A
shiver shot down his back and he looked away.
Old Mr. and Mrs. Danderson sat on chairs outside their shop, Coats, Cloaks and Robes,
which was next to Mary"s. Mr. Danderson was sat behind a table with numerous paper cups,
two tea pots and a coffee pot. It seemed at first glance he was snoozing with a newspaper atop
his chest like a blanket, but then would move when someone came to the table so he could
pour a beverage and hand it to Mrs. Danderson who gave it with a smile. Such a sweet little
village, these people are great.
“Ye must be that new teacher startin" up at the school?” A broad Scottish voice slightly
startled Michael, forcing him to spill his tea, “Och! Sorry about that, Laddie, here, let me help
ye.” Michael watched as the grey-haired lady took out a handkerchief and began wiping his
shirt where the tea had spilt. It reminded him of his own dear sweet mother, who had died a few
years before he got married. “So, are ye that lad?” The woman smiled her sweet smile, a
sparkle flashed in her blue eyes, or perhaps it was a reflection in her horn-rimmed glasses.
“Yes, I am Michael, I start on Monday.” He was excited, knowing he was about to start a job
where his experience mattered. He was looking forward to the occasional night time
supervision of the school and starting up a fencing club for the senior boys and girls. He ran
through all the plans he had made in his head and smiled.
“Lookin" forward to it then? Bet ye are, tis a grand school, one o" the best in Scotland, no
doubt. The headmaster is one o" the best in country an" because o" all the hard work he has
done wi" our kids, the villagers elected him Mayor o" Kirkfale. I"m tellin" ye now, that was the
best decision we made, because he has done everythin" to get Kirkfale noticed by the rest of
Scotland. Ye may have noticed, there is only one road into and out o" Kirkfale because o" the
landscape, that is a major disadvantage when trying to conduct business around the country.
The Mayor has done a fine job already and we have a steady stream of tourists coming on a
regular basis to Kirkfale.” She was about to say something else, before Michael gently placed
his hands on her shoulders and smiled.
“I"m sorry Mrs…?” He suddenly realised that he did not know this woman and hoped that
she would not scream for him touching her shoulders. His mind flashed to the policeman.
“Mrs. Crochet, Laddie,” she said sweetly.
“I"m sorry, Mrs. Crochet, I think Mary needs me, however, I would love to hear more about
the school and the village another time, perhaps.” He tried to let her down gently, but was not
sure he had achieved it.
“Och aye! That"s my shop down there; ye"re more than welcome anytime.” She pointed to
the building just a few yards down on the opposite side of the road, “the post office, that is,” she
said to confirm.
“Well, when I am next passing, I"ll pop in and share a cup of tea with you.” He smiled and
walked away towards Mary who was standing talking to another villager.
He stopped next to her and waited for her to stop talking and for her friend to leave before
speaking, “So, you happy?” Michael took hold of Mary"s arm and kissed her gently on the
cheek.
“Are you kidding? I"m loving it!” She turned and wrapped her arms round Michael and
kissed him on the lips, “Thank you for agreeing to come.”
“Hey, I needed a new challenge, I was going nowhere in that last school,” he lied and hoped
Mary did not notice. “This change will do us both good.” He smiled and looked at the villagers
and tried to listen to the bustle that filled the high street, but everything was rolling into one loud
noise, finally his eyes fell upon the table of scones, “here, you have got to try one of these
scones, they are absolutely delicious.” He took a plate carrying a scone covered in cream and
jam and gave it to Mary, “seriously, you have not tasted anything as gorgeous as these.” He
helped himself to another from the table.
“I noticed you liked them; I"ve seen the five you"ve scoffed.” She smiled taking the plate and
began breaking a piece off and placing it in her mouth. Michael loved that about her; she
always did that with cakes and biscuits and as a result, rarely made any crumbs. He, however,
took a large mouthful irrespective of the outcome.
“Four actually, this is my fifth,” he said after swallowing the mouthful.
Michael spotted the policeman again, this time standing on the opposite side of the road.
His tall physique made him stand at least a head"s length above everyone else. Michael felt
another shiver shoot down his back and leaned over to Mary, “Hey, what do you make of him?”
nodding in the policeman"s direction.
Mary looked across the road, “who?”
“The polic…” He looked back but the officer was gone. Michael took a few steps, looked up
and down the road, but could not see him. Returning back to Mary he shook his head, “that"s
odd, I could have sworn the policeman was watching me.”
“It was probably just your imagination, nothing to worry about. Come on, this is supposed to
be a party, ain"t it?” Mary kissed him on the nose and walked into her shop to mingle with some
potential customers. Michael smiled and nodded, but continued looking.
