Getting Acquainted

Chapter Sixteen

"Well, hello Dad! Boys! I thought I'd drop in to see the boys," said Kirsty. She kissed the boys and her father and then looked at Margaret. "How are you, Miss Maxwell?" Her mother could be pleased that she did not start questioning immediately, but that she at least started properly with a polite greeting. She wondered where Iain was.

"No, no. That's Auntie Margaret," said Daniel helpfully. He liked Auntie Margaret. They had just been chatting and playing hide and seek with her rubber band.

"Oh, really?" Kirsty looked at Auntie Margaret, who looked back. There was not much she could conclude at a glance, except that when Iain chose to give up his single status he at least knew how to do it properly. That did not mean their characters were as well suited as their looks. She knew for a fact that they would not last if the woman did not have a heart, no matter how witty she might be. But unless someone had forced her to sit between two children, she had chosen that place herself.

"Uncle Iain brought her."

"Really?" Kirsty would never have guessed. "Oh, there is Uncle Iain right now. Had you left Auntie Margaret all alone?" she said to her brother who was just coming in through the back door, followed by Ailsa, whom she had already seen that morning. She wondered how he would react to Auntie Margaret, but those words did not seem to have any effect.

"What are you doing here?" Iain said rather brusquely. His sister was all right, except for her tendency to be extremely nosy. He did not have to ask her what she was doing here. His mother had probably told her this morning what time they would be back and now she had come here to see what was happening. It also meant his mother had not told her too much, for which he was grateful. He gave his mother a glance.

She smiled back at him encouragingly. No, she was not in on this.

Margaret looked as if she might be a little down, staring at his family with obvious wariness. Since she was sitting between the baby and Daniel, Iain lifted Daniel out of his chair and carried him to the other side to place him beside Kirsty.

"What are you doing?" the boy cried, but he liked it.

"You're going to sit next to your Mummy." That gave him the opportunity to sit next to Margaret. Ailsa had thought the same and she had slipped into the vacated spot. He removed her, chair and all, and she squealed.

"Mind my chairs!" his mother chided. She was rather intrigued by the ease with which Iain simply removed obstacles in his way, not wasting any time or words on it.

"Do you want to sit next to me or something, Iain?" Margaret inquired, observing him. She felt highly flattered that he would almost demolish his mother's furniture to do so.

"Yes." He finally managed to sit in the right place.

"So..." said Kirsty. She looked at the pair across the table. At least they had the same things on their minds, because they were both looking at her expectantly. They knew why she was here. "Update?"

"Why aren't you at work?" Iain asked. He was not going to give updates right now, not in front of everybody. We will be married in three weeks. That was all, but he knew his sister. She would ask questions.

"You're on holiday. That saves me a lot of time running after you trying to get the information I need."

"So you have time left to run after me trying to get the information you don't need?" he countered.

"Force of habit," Kirsty conceded. Who said she did not need this information? He was her brother. He could not expect her to refrain from wondering about him after he had let this happen to him on a case.

Margaret was interested in seeing whether Iain was going to give into his sister. He probably was, if only because it was next to impossible to deny anything.

"Did Mum tell you to eat here?" Kirsty wondered if their mother wanted them under her nose to keep an eye on them. If she had been Iain she would have taken the girlfriend out for lunch, leaving all the children here. Well, the children might be easy. It was the parents who were bad.

"No, she invited us." He did not see why he should have declined. There were plenty of other occasions for being alone. It might not even be wise to have too many of those.

Kirsty nodded and glanced at her mother. "She wants to keep an eye on you. You're only doing now what the rest of us did when we were young, though Mum probably wouldn't yell at you to keep your hands above the table anymore."

Margaret did not understand why both of them laughed at that. It was probably a thing from the past. She always liked it when Iain laughed, though. It made her smile. Sometimes he smiled, but he did not really betray his amusement openly enough to other people. It did not count if it was to her.

Had Mrs. Scott really yelled at them? She looked at her. Iain's mother was nice, not the type to raise her voice, Margaret would think, but her children were all grown up now. It might have been difficult when those three boys were young.

"And that was the end of your boyfriend," Iain commented smugly. He did not think he was in any danger from his mother, since he was long past the age.

"Good riddance," said Mrs. Scott. "But I'd never tell you to keep your hands above the table, Margaret. The romantic hooligans at the table here were throwing food at the happy couple, under the table. I had no idea what that boy of Kirsty's was up to, but apparently he thought he was not allowed to hold hands. I don't think he liked it here."

"How did you notice anyway?" asked Iain.

"It's pretty stupid to use your spoons." His mother pulled a face at him. He probably did not know she had been about to tell off one of them for not laying the table properly because so many spoons were missing. "But if you leave your cutlery on the table where I can see it, you're free to do anything you like." It was interesting. He only had to laugh and Margaret had her smile back. She could only guess to what that might lead, but they were old enough now. They could go right ahead.

"I came here for lunch," Iain answered.

"I think you were here for dinner at the time. That never stopped you."

"I had to protect the family from intruders, didn't I?" He was the picture of innocence.

"You didn't look so kindly upon me last Saturday," Kirsty protested. "I was only doing the same."

"You were just nosy."

"But he looks like such a choir boy," said Margaret, who was surprised by the anecdote.

The remark set Kirsty and her mother off into hysterics. "You must be in love with him, Margaret," said Mrs. Scott when she had stopped laughing enough to speak.

Iain started bickering with Kirsty so he did not have to hear his mother and their father tapped against his glass with his knife. They fell silent immediately. "I'm glad the other two live further away. Let's eat."

Chapter Seventeen

Surprisingly it was Margaret who beckoned Kirsty into the garden after lunch. Kirsty was short on time, but also highly curious, so she looked at her watch and decided that work could get stuffed. "If you want to tell me about you and choir boy, I still have some time."

Margaret winked. "Choir boy met choir girl. We'll be married in three weeks." Everyone else had neglected to give Kirsty that information. Perhaps they thought it was Iain's job, but he might never tell.

Kirsty was amazed. "Three weeks! Why the hurry? I mean, I obviously expected you to be half involved by now, but not that you'd already picked a date to be married!"

"Getting half involved is not my thing. We don't waste time."

That was the most unbelievable thing where Iain was concerned. "Come on, choir boy always wastes time." Friends of hers had been quite frustrated on the occasions she had set them up.

Margaret was glad to hear it. "Because he never met anyone he wanted to be married to before." She hoped so, at least.

"And then he met you and, bam, he saw he wanted to marry you?" Kirsty would very much like to hit her brother over the head. He always pretended not to look or care, but now he turned out to know precisely what he wanted, so obviously he had looked. "So he can be quick if he chooses?"

Margaret knew that this was going to be the difficult part. "You're confusing two very different issues. I don't get involved with men I have no future with. Most people get involved and then see about the future, but I had to get the future sorted out first before I could see about today. I cannot do anything without a proper justification."

"So you are responsible for the speedy wedding?" Something was still missing, though. Where was the affection that usually accompanied these things?

"Well, I asked him if we couldn't get married. He said yes and then he said he had four weeks off. I suppose we were both responsible."

"Last Saturday he told me not to worry that anything would happen -- during the case, I suppose -- because you had principles, which placed any reluctance on your side and not his -- for a change." That had been significant enough, but she had never expected that it would take them only a few days to decide to get married as soon as possible.

"He told you that?" Margaret exclaimed with some embarrassment. "Why? Now it sounds as if I tell everyone upon meeting them! I don't!" She searched her memory for things she had said that Iain might have repeated. "I only told him I didn't want to share a room with a man I wasn't married to. And something about illegitimate children -- which admittedly was during our first conversation. I disliked myself for expressing my disapproval so quickly, but he had asked me if I was Miss or Mrs. and he was so..." She sighed, half mocking herself.

Kirsty thought Margaret might deserve to be hit over the head as well. "...so much like your ideal husband?"

"Yes ... he thinks like me and later on he turned out to look like ... oh." Margaret recovered. "But what did he tell you? Because I really didn't tell him much apart from that, nor do I have peculiar ideas or behaviour that I exhibited. Well, I am rather opinionated about intelligence, honesty, fairness, money, child-rearing and of course love and marriage, but I still have fun, which can be at the expense of stupid people, so secretly I'm quite bad."

"He was not extolling your virtues. I think he only wanted to reassure me he was going to remain professional. After talking to you I was very much in doubt about that, because you were obviously intent on assisting him in the investigation, as well as keeping other women away from him." Kirsty grinned in retrospect. "Although jealousy doesn't mean undying love and devotion, because for all I knew you were in constant need of male attention." She might only been in need of some attention from Iain.

Margaret thought Iain had succeeded fairly well at remaining professional. "He let me in on things, which I didn't think was very professional, but I was not going to protest. I loved thinking about it too much. He was very professional in other matters, though. He told me to get dressed once when I wasn't wearing much and he needed to speak to me and he never touched me, only when I was hanging off a balcony and he had to catch me."

Kirsty suppressed a snicker at Iain's professional behaviour. Telling Margaret to get dressed was hardly on the same level as letting her investigate. But if he believed this made him strong and professional, he should by all means continue to believe it. Margaret would have run the entire investigation, but at least he had not seen her undressed. Good boy! Sometimes her brother was really foolish.

The fools should indeed be married soon because they appeared to be well-suited. There was that other matter. "You hang off balconies?"

"I'd been snooping. I mean, doing detective work," Margaret admitted unashamedly. "In the room of someone who was about to interrupt me, so I had to flee. Luckily Iain passed by just in time."

"Choir girl snoops. I see why choir boy felt he had to catch you." Kirsty shook her head. He would probably have left everyone else hanging. She glanced at her watch. She would love to stay and chat, but work called. "I know enough. I'm going back to work."

"Would you mind not telling any policemen about me?" Margaret asked, remembering something else. It would spoil her fun if they all knew about it in advance.

"They already talked about Iain's bringing you to the ball, but they don't believe it. I said I had no idea when they asked me." It was all up to Iain to deal with potential trouble and nosiness. He had filled in that form that way himself.

"Good. Don't tell them anything if they ask again, because he'll bring someone, no matter what they think. It'll be his wife."

Kirsty snorted at Margaret's face. She seemed rather excited by the prospect. "What about Lisa? She only asked if he was all right."

Margaret hesitated. "She doesn't really have to ask you; she has Iain's number. If she asks again, give her my regards and thank her for the privacy. She'll know."

Kirsty turned to leave and then turned back. "Oh, and Margaret?"

"Yes?"

"He would never admit it, but Iain would love a safe cuddle." She smiled and did not wait for a reaction.

Kirsty left Margaret in the garden. Her brother was still sitting at the kitchen table with the boys. She hung over him and gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek. "Aren't you an evil brother," she whispered in his ear.

"Why?" he asked.

"She sounds like your type of woman all right."

He only smiled. He was aware of that.

"But Iain..."

"Yes?"

"She would never admit it, but Margaret would love a safe cuddle." Again she smiled without waiting for a reaction, but she moved on to her sons to say goodbye. She was an evil sister and very pleased with herself.

Chapter Eighteen

After her chat with Kirsty, Margaret sat down on the grass in the garden and then lay back to look at the sky, wondering what safe cuddles were and whether either one of them had appeared in need of giving or receiving them.

Ailsa came to disturb her after a while, saying she was going into town with Iain to buy things and asking if she wanted to come. Margaret considered going, but only briefly. People might have emailed, she remembered and she had a pile of envelopes to sort through. Since some of them were bills, she had better look into them. Life did not stop.

"Iain asked me to tell you ... lots of difficult stuff about his key," Ailsa told her furthermore. "That I forgot."

Margaret saw him cross the lawn and go out the back gate, as if he did not want to talk to her himself. It made her feel neglected. She got to her feet and chased him, jumping over the back gate rather than wasting time pushing it open. "Iain!" she called out when she was near enough. "Why don't you want to talk to me?"

He turned and looked puzzled. "Who says that?"

"You send Ailsa to me with messages she cannot remember."

"Oh. I thought that might be easier." As he spoke he wondered how it was easier if the girl could not remember the messages. They had seemed simple enough to him.

"No! It's not! This is what I didn't want." She gestured from one to the other nervously and stepped close. "Talk to me. You have to be able to talk to me. I don't like the difficulty."

He stared down at her in confusion. "Oh. I..." He had no objections to talking to her, he thought, but if she said so perhaps he had unwittingly avoided it. "Er..." He could not think why he was avoiding it in this case, although in other cases she may have had a point about talking and he was too honest to make light of it.

"Be direct to me so I know exactly what you're thinking -- feeling. The reason why I wanted to get the marriage thing secured was that I hoped we could skip the guessing stage. Stupid of me. I'm not equipped to deal with the guessing stage, Iain. I cannot be relaxed about the love thing. There are not enough people who love me for me to be indifferent about possibly losing one and I really, really want you, Iain -- but of course only if you want me back -- and I don't seem to know how to get you, or if I'm even out of my mind for wanting you." Perhaps she was completely deluded. It happened to people.

Iain's eyes had widened, wondering if he was to reply with a similarly eloquent speech. He swallowed a few times at her saying that she really, really wanted him. "Would you still want me if I had trouble replying?" He was not good at this kind of talking.

"Yes," Margaret said encouragingly. "But please try. I've just tried too and it was not easy." It had been easier to think it than to voice it and then it had come out like such a jumble.

He looked around himself for a place to sit and decided on the gate. It was better than nothing. He sent Ailsa into the house with a curt wave and then sat on the gate with Margaret. "All right I'll try." There was too much to tackle at once. Margaret had blended it all into one speech, but he could not. Where should he start? "What is the problem?"

"Yes, do let's try the rational approach. I'm sure it reduces the problem to something insignificant," she said without too much sarcasm. It often helped. "Tell me you want me." She would actually be surprised if he could.

"I thought that was obvious. I'm going to marry you."

Margaret did not lose her patience. "Don't be so evasive. You might only have said yes because you like me enough not to want to hurt me."

Iain did not see the point of literally doing as she asked. It would be meaningless. If he was her, he would then ask how much he wanted her and that was meaningless, because it varied. "I like you enough to marry you. I don't want you in the same way as I did last Saturday, so obviously you do know how to get me."

She supposed this was meant to reassure her and in a moment she would try to view it in that light, but there was another thing to be said first. "But do you understand how I'm not at all certain?"

He had not known it, but he could understand. He would need a moment to consider this new angle, of Margaret not being sure why he was marrying her.

She knew he would think rather than speak first, so she continued. "Exposure to other people does make me wonder and when I'm wondering it doesn't help me at all if you send Ailsa to convey your messages. It only makes me think you have problems facing me and that makes me uncomfortable because I don't know why you can't."

"Other people? Do you mean my family?" They had not seen many others.

"Well ... and mine."

His relatives had been reasonably well-behaved, he would think. "Mine express their love by teasing. However, if mine say anything to you, they most likely just want to encourage you." It might just come across oddly on someone who was used to parents who communicated in a different style. He had never considered that before.

"But that's what troubles me!" Margaret said in despair. "It makes me feel as though there is something wrong with me for not going fast enough. And how fast are you?"

There was nothing wrong with her. "Remind them of when you met me, if they do it again. They say things to me too, so I understand what you mean. But it's very hard to explain things to Ailsa. She's a child." It would be impossible to let her know about all the difficulties.

"Ailsa? Does she need to have things explained to her?"

"Do you mean she has not been nagging you for brothers and sisters?" Iain was surprised that only he had been targeted. He was only partly in charge of the execution of that wish.

Margaret pressed her hands to her heart, feeling overly dramatic. "What? No! What? Oh my goodness. What did she say?" She blushed as she imagined Ailsa quizzing Iain about such a subject.

"She wants brothers and sisters -- badly. Evasive answers don't work. Maybe I can be direct and simple after all." He smiled at Margaret's discomfort. There was no need for it. "It must be because my role as husband seems to be extremely simple in her eyes. Get Mummy pregnant -- a lot."

"She hasn't mentioned this to me at all!" Margaret was shocked. "I would have...I would have..." She shook her head when she was unable to imagine what she would say to her daughter. "What did you say?" He seemed to find it amusing. She hoped they had not been teaming up against her, as it would put some undesirable pressure on her. She could not handle thoughts of getting pregnant at this moment.

"No wife, no babies. She wasn't satisfied, so I told her you made me nervous because you were so pretty."

"Oh." Margaret was nonplussed. "Do I? Am I? Nervous? How can I make you nervous? You're always far too controlled to be nervous." She thought she was always controlled too, but apparently not, not when he called her pretty while he was looking at her.

He did not know how to describe it well. "The outside me may be."

She recognised the problem. She could appeared very controlled if she liked as well, but that did not mean that she always was. Sometimes it was simply a mask. "Trust me with the rest of you. The inside, I mean."

He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "I know what I want, but I don't really know how to get there. It's slightly encouraging that you don't know either, but you seem to leave it all up to me because you think I know and it's only a matter of time until I don't know what to do anymore." He did not like not knowing what to do, yet he also did not want to imply that she should do more. She was probably doing the best she could.

"Oh Iain!"

While he liked to be half embraced, he had no idea what she meant. Was it love, pity, insecurity? "What do you mean by that?"

"I think you're adorable. Darling, if you keep throwing cryptic comments my way how can I ever know which interpretation you want me to have? I love cryptic comments, but if it's really important to you, you may need to be very, very simple. I don't actually have a simple brain." It was incapable of finding the simplest interpretation of a remark. She realised he was in fact only rephrasing what he had said before, but she had not understood him properly then.

"Darling?" Iain felt strangely happy, happier about that word than about being adorable.

"Yes. I meant that the way it's supposed to be meant. As in: I love you, you moron." Well, she was the moron, really, but the more he smiled at her like that, the more she would be tempted to repeat her words. He did not think she was crazy for having spoken them.

"I'm not sure it's meant to express that."

"I ought to get frustrated with you, but I cannot." Perhaps she would just have to settle for a smile instead of an echo. It lit up his entire face and that might mean much more.

Chapter Nineteen

When sitting on the gate began to be painful, Margaret stood up and reluctantly returned to business. "I cannot come with you and Ailsa. I have my administration to sort out -- bills, change of address and things like that. Too bad life just goes on. What was that about your key?"

"You took my key this morning to open the door."

"I left it in the hall."

"Well, I was going to have it duplicated -- triplicated -- in town so I have to take it with me, which means that if you're not coming, you either have to stay in the house or I have to lock it up and you have to stay at my parents' house." He would give her her own key.

"Could I use the computer there?" It would save her a lot of work, so she might be finished by the time they got back from town.

"I'm sure you could."

"Then that's what I'll do. I'll just need that box that I put in your hall for the time being. It has my administration in it. What are you going to do with Ailsa anyway?"

"We're going to buy paint for her new room."

"That's quick. Have you reached a compromise on the colour and everything already?" Margaret was fairly sure Ailsa favoured a colour that Iain would not like to see in his house.

Iain grinned, because a compromise had indeed been reached. "You'd be jealous of how effectively we communicate."

"One request: do not spoil her."

"I would never consciously get into trouble with you. Besides, I can infer from her tone when she thinks she's pushing her luck and that's when I say no."

Margaret carried her box to his parents' house. She put it in the hall when she could not find Mr. or Mrs. Scott and then climbed the stairs to get her laptop and the mail she had brought on Saturday. If they were not at home she would wait. She would never use the computer unasked.

Mrs. Scott was upstairs doing laundry. She peeked out of the bathroom when she heard footsteps. "Aren't you going into town with them?"

"No, I have so much stuff to sort out. Besides, it's nice if they go away together without me. Could I use your computer? I always do online banking and Iain doesn't have a connection."

"Of course."

"I'll get my connection switched to his house, so could you write down which address and phone number I'll be moving to? I don't actually know. I took a peek at Iain's birth date and address when we gave notice, but I can't remember the address." There were more things she had to do, but she could not think of them all. She had best carry a piece of paper around with her all day to note down what occurred to her.

Mrs. Scott accompanied Margaret downstairs to the study when she was finished. "The boys are in bed for a nap and my husband is playing tennis. It's lovely to have some peace. You won't be disturbed in here at all, except by me." She switched on the computer for Margaret and wrote down Iain's address.

Margaret sorted through the envelopes. "Do you need a laugh? Read through these if you do." She placed two thick envelopes on the desk. "It's forwarded mail from viewers. I always do that last because it's such a time waster." She started on the bills.

It was rather late when Iain came to disturb her. Margaret had worked through all her mail and even rewritten the invitations for Ailsa's birthday party, since the address on them would no longer be her home in four weeks. She still had to finish a list of items to get rid of.

"Dinner is ready," he said.

"Dinner?" Margaret had been tided over by frequent cups of tea with biscuits. She did not know if she was hungry, or even that it was late enough for dinner.

"I've been cooking."

Then she could muster up an appetite. "I was just writing down which things we may need to give away, like a washing machine and a refrigerator, because we don't need two of them."

"Oh, give it to my Mum. She'll know who needs what. I've got something for you." He pressed a set of shiny keys into her hand.

"Ha, keys. I thought it might be an engagement ring," Margaret said with a grin. She did not think Iain was the type to get her one and to get her one for three weeks was very ridiculous anyway.

"A ring? Do we need rings? Wedding rings?" Iain had obviously not thought about them before. He looked somewhat anxious that they would have to go out and buy them.

Margaret did not know whether they were obligatory, but she certainly wanted one. "I'll take you shopping tomorrow. See, I don't care if you take it off right after the wedding, but I do sort of want to mark my territory with it at least once."

Chapter Twenty

Iain was glad to hear his dinner was very edible and after eating they watched a film on television. He could not recall the previous time he had watched TV at home, but it was different watching it with other people. Alone he rarely bothered to turn it on because he had better things to do.

Ailsa wanted to stay up late, which was fine with Margaret, who had no energy for that and who had stood up after the film in order to go to bed. She could not keep her hosts up too long. They might be waiting for her to come home. "We're going running at seven tomorrow, so if you think you can manage that without being grumpy..."

"Seven? You are both going?"

"It looks like I have to," said Iain. This was the first he had heard about it, but he was not protesting.

Ailsa did not want to be left out. "I want to come too!"

"You can only come if you're not grumpy, but if you can manage that by staying up until midnight, it's fine with me," Margaret told her. "However, if at seven o'clock you're either still asleep or grumpy, you're not coming."

"You just want me to go to bed," Ailsa complained. She got up very reluctantly. "Fine. I'll go. Good night, Mummy." She gave Margaret a kiss and then stood wondering what to do about Iain. After a moment she made up her mind and jumped in his lap. He received a kiss too. "Bad night, Daddy."

He responded by standing up and holding her upside down, which made her scream.

Margaret thought he rather liked being wished a bad night, but she was a little afraid of what he was doing. "Please Iain, don't drop my baby."

"Did you hear what your baby told me, Maggie?"

"Yes, yes, but don't drop her!"

"I'm not going to drop her. She weighs next to nothing. I'm going to carry her upstairs and put her under a cold shower." That was what she deserved.

Ailsa squealed. She would love that. Her mother never did this to her.

"Don't carry her upstairs!" Margaret feared both of them would fall and get hurt.

"Don't be jealous. I'll carry you upstairs some day -- and not to put you under the cold shower," Iain clarified in case she got the wrong idea.

"You will?" Margaret wondered how and when. Perhaps he would do it on the Friday of their wedding, although they would be going to the ball at night and he might be too tired.

"Yes." He slowly moved in the direction of the hall, which was difficult with Ailsa hanging over his shoulder. He did not want her to hit her head against the doorpost. "Good night, Maggie."

"Good night. I'll lock the door behind me then?" Her fingers curled around the new shiny keys. She could be useful now.

"That would be great." He smiled his goodbye. There was not much more he could do.

She turned off the light when they moved into the hall and then went out the back door, locking it behind her.

She peeked into the Scotts' sitting room. Both were still up. They were watching television and reading with the dogs at their feet. "Good night. I hope I'm not too late. Iain did give me a key to your back door, but I didn't know if you knew that..."

"He phoned me from town to ask if he could have an extra one made, so I assumed he'd communicated this to you," said his mother. "You're free to come home any time you like. Don't mind us." Margaret could even stay with Iain if she liked, but she might not do that if she thought people were waiting up for her.

"I won't be any later than this. I want to go running each morning." Margaret hesitated. "Do you think Iain will drop Ailsa if he carries her? I was afraid to stay and watch." She was not so much afraid as thrilled that they got along and when she was thrilled about something she always had trouble not mentioning it.

Mr. Scott briefly looked up from his book. "Adult males below a certain age can almost always carry adult females below a certain weight." He assumed that was what Margaret was in fact asking.

"Which age is that, Stuart?" his wife inquired.

"I'm not telling, because you are below the weight. I meant to say that if Iain can carry Margaret, he can certainly carry a small girl."

"He has not tried," Margaret protested.

"Because he knows he can."

"How does he know?"

"Eyes. Common sense."

That was something she might appear to lack, Margaret thought, so she smiled and bade them a good night.

When Margaret was getting undressed after brushing her teeth, her cell phone rang. She dropped the trousers she was holding and ran towards her bedroom. The display on her phone said it was Iain. "Iain!"

"I didn't drop her." Iain had not got the opportunity to say good night properly, but he had remembered just in time that he had Margaret's number and that he might ring her to speak to her privately.

She was glad. It had bothered her a little. "What about the shower?"

"We didn't do that. I took pity on her, so I'm saving the shower for when she's really bad. She's in bed now."

"Where are you now?"

"In bed. And you?"

"Getting undressed." She realised she could not leave clothes on the floor of somebody else's bathroom, so she went back to get her trousers.

"How far did you get?"

"Iain! You shouldn't ask me that!" She picked up the trousers and stepped out of the bathroom. "And what are you wearing?" she asked and then she almost collided with Mrs. Scott. "Oops. Sorry. Good night." She shot into her room in embarrassment. "That was your mother. Just when I was asking what you were wearing."

"You're asking that in front of her?" he cried. He had only been curious, nothing more. It would look different now.

"Don't worry. The door is closed now. I am wearing everything but my trousers and had to step out to get them because I had dropped them when I heard the phone. You?"

"Only those."

"Only what?"

"Trousers."

"In bed?"

"Pyjama trousers," he clarified.

"No top?" She suppressed the infantile desire to squeal.

"Not if you aren't there."

Margaret was going to say he needed not bother for her sake, but she only giggled.

"I think we should get some sleep, Maggie." Iain sounded amused but cautious. "Good night."

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