Page 11 of A Scottish Love Story
‘I come from a farm, so I’m used to adapting to all kinds of work,’ Roxie answered, deliberately vague. As she passed Amy her coffee, she met the mischievous glint in the elderly woman’s blue eyes and saw the faint nod of approval.
‘A farm? I see. You will be able to discuss country life with Amy, then? I came from the town myself. I still find it quiet living in a village, but now I’m involved with the church I am kept busy. Do you go to church, Roxanne? Are you a member?’
‘I used to attend church regularly when I was younger. Since my mother died, I usually only attend special services like Easter and Christmas, Harvest thanksgiving, plus occasional times in between.’
‘I suppose you are Church of England, but you would be welcome to attend our church. I don’t know whether you would be allowed to take communion though.’
‘I take communion when I’m at home,’ Roxie said, puzzled. She glanced at Amy.
‘I’m sure you would be welcome to take it here if you wish, my dear,’ Amy said. ‘I believe the Church of England hold communion most Sundays? We usually have it only twice a year. That is the reason Joan is here. She has brought the communion cards for Ciaran and myself. We hand them in as we enter the church, then the elders know how many glasses to fill with the wine. There is always plenty of bread, of course.’
‘You each have your own glass of wine?’ Roxie was surprised at that.
‘Oh, yes, but no bigger than a thimble.’ Again, Amy’s eyes twinkled with humour. ‘The elders bring them round in aspecially designed two-tier holder. Another elder brings round a plate with the small squares of bread.’
‘You could come with Amy on Sunday and see how we do things,’ Mrs Smith said.
‘You come when you feel like it, my dear,’ Amy said. ‘Ciaran usually drives me to church for communion. They’re the only Sundays I can rely on him going to church,’ she added ruefully. ‘Although, like you, Roxie, he does attend some of the special services.’
‘But if Roxanne is employed as your chauffeur companion, surely you expect her to drive you to the kirk every Sunday?’
‘Roxanne is here as my chauffeur and companion, Joan, but her life, and her soul, are her own. I shall not interfere with what she chooses to do. I don’t attend every Sunday myself these days,’ Amy said. ‘But I believe I’m as good a Christian as those who never miss a Sunday.’ Roxie’s eyes gleamed at the gentle challenge in her tone.
‘Oh, er... yes, I’m sure you are. But Roxanne is young and the young need our guidance...’
‘She is young, but she practises what many of us only preach when it comes to helping others.’
‘You can’t know that already!’ Joan said firmly. ‘Time will tell.’
‘Ah, but I do know. You would know, too, if you saw the news on television and that horrific road accident ...’ Roxie was aware of Amy looking over at her and she sensed Amy wasn’t about to say all she might have done because she was sensitive to Roxie’s feelings. ’Both the police and the ambulance crew praised her for her help and compassion at the scene of the crash. I am proud to have her for my companion,’ Amy gave a firm nod, ‘whether or not she chooses to attend the kirk. As a matter of fact, when the better weather comes again, I am looking forward to visitingsome of the gardens that are open to the public. Roxie and I shall enjoy our Sunday lunch out sometimes, too.’
‘I see,’ Joan said stiffly. ‘I still believe you should be encouraging such a young person to attend the kirk on Sundays, Amy. We need some younger members. We have scarcely any under thirty-five.’
‘Under thirty-five?’ Amy chuckled. ‘Under fifty-five would be nearer the truth.’
‘Hmph. I suppose so. All the more reason we should welcome Roxanne. I will leave the communion cards with you. You don’t mind if I leave Ciaran’s too, to save me going to the farm?’
‘I’ll pass it on and remind him it’s communion this Sunday,’ Amy said drily.
When their visitor had gone, Roxie volunteered to cook a roast ready for when they returned from church that coming Sunday.
‘We may be later when it’s communion. Our present minister still gives us the full sermon, then communion makes it longer by the time the elders have been round all of us with the bread and again with the wine. It will be nearer one o’clock before we get back, so I’m warning you, Roxie,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Ciaran has a healthy appetite at the best of times.’
‘So that means soup for starters? What shall I cook for a roast? I see you have a variety of meats in your freezer, including venison. I am not so familiar with that, though.’
‘I leave the choice to you, dear. Both Ciaran and I like all kinds of roasts and he likes Yorkshire pudding with them all, too, if you can be bothered.’
‘Jenny cooked lamb for us last time, so I will choose something different for this Sunday.’
Amy smiled. ‘Whatever you decide, I’m sure we shall be ready for it and we shall enjoy it.’
* * *
Ciaran Baxter arrived on Sunday, driving a rather smart dark green Volvo instead of his usual battered pickup. Roxie noticed how tanned and healthy his skin looked against his white shirt. He looked taller and very slim in a tailored dark suit, blue tie and shiny black shoes. Her pulse beat a little faster as he came closer. She knew Amy was self-conscious about needing her wheels to get around on her own, so wasn’t surprised when she said she would only need her stick to go to church because she had Ciaran’s arm to lean on. Amy followed up her declaration with a defiant glare. Over her head, Ciaran’s eyes met Roxie’s and he winked.
‘Such pride for an old woman,’ he said teasingly.
‘I don’t feel like an old woman, especially now I have Roxie for company. It’s like a ray of sunshine having someone young and cheerful. We shall leave you in peace to cook the dinner, lassie.’
