Highland Shorts (Highland Books) by Emma Baird

Author:Emma Baird
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Scottish rural life, love and marriage, Highland Fling, chick lit, quick reads, life in the country, Scottish life, relationships
Publisher: Emma Baird
Published: 2021-02-10T00:00:00+00:00

THE END

THE HIGHLAND DIARIES

As is always the case in Lochalshie, Mhari knew about it first.

“Aye, so,” she said during our daily Zoom catch-up. “The BBC have been in touch wi’ me. Want tae dae these lockdown diaries wi’ folks. And they need stories from the Highlands.”

The daily Zoom chats had been my idea. A mistake upon reflection. When the UK’s pubs and restaurants had been ordered to close in March, we’d all been in the Lochside Welcome at the time.

Bookings at the hotel had fallen away since the start of the month when the pandemic hit our country. Jack had barely slept since fretting about what we were going to do. When hospitality is your livelihood, pubs being ordered to shut is a disaster. I parroted, “It will be fine!” on repeat, even as dread clawed at my insides.

Closures announced that Friday, we took in what lockdown meant. Not leaving your house except for a walk, jog, bike ride or essential items. Not dropping in on your friends. In a village as close-knit as Lochalshie, the latter felt like a sucker punch.

The surrounding faces were filled with doom and gloom. “Zoom chats!” I announced, clapping my hands. Jack often told me my job title should read Gabrielle Amelia McAllan, mother, graphic designer, official cheerer upper. This was one of those occasions where the latter was my most valued skill.

“We will all fire up our laptops, phones or tablets at six o’clock every evening,” I breezed on, the cheeriness too bright to be realistic. “So we can talk to each other through the medium of video conferencing and check everyone is okay. I’ve been using it for years. It’s as if you’re in the same room.”

True. Once upon a time, I convinced my bosses to allow me to work from home full time. No-one had more experience of the ins and outs of talking to people online than me. I had handy tips a plenty.

Smart clothes only a necessity for the top half of your body. Don’t let the webcam face any source of light. Watch your angle so your fellow chattees aren’t forced to look up your nose for the duration. Wear a tonne of make-up. Check your background view.

(Caroline, unfortunately, hadn’t inspected her bookshelves the first time before firing her laptop up to talk to everyone. The result? Jack and I, her son and daughter-in-law, were forced to type out a hasty text message: Erm, you might want to hide The Joy of Sex book next time?)

By the time mid-April came round, I was heartily sick of those Zoom chats. Jack, in typical male fashion, pretended to be busy most nights around six o’clock. At five to six every night, he would scoop up our daughter Evelyn (known as Evie) and whisk her away, muttering about leaving me in peace and quiet to chat.

At one and a half years old, Evie was at the super-cute stage. Into everything. The lockdown was brilliant for her. Mummy and daddy at home all day every day.

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