Highland Christmas - A HIGHLAND BOOKS SHORT STORY

The case of the missing beer

"You're out of smoked salmon? But what am I going to do about Mildred? That's her Christmas dinner treat."

And the rest. I pretend we only feed our fat moggie over-priced smoked fish on 'very, very, very special occasions'. Jamal, the owner of the small village shop where I buy said salmon knows this is self-delusion at its finest. Still, the problem is real. As I'd been away from the village for too long, I wanted to make it up to Mildred by feeding my pet her favourite food in the whole world.

Jamal shakes his head. "Aye, well we were supposed tae get a delivery through yesterday, but the lorry never showed up. Bit short o' everything really."

He looks around him and I note the over-crowded shelves do look a lot less busy than usual. Jamal's General Store stocks anything and everything—from sun hats (not needed here) to welly boots (much better), make-up, food and drink. We both turn to the door as the bell above it jangles and a distraught Stewart bursts in, his white highland terrier, yapping behind him.

He doesn't bother with any 'hello's, dashing instead to the fridges at the back of the shop, scooping out the contents into a basket and charging towards us.

I step back and he dumps the wire basket on the counter. It is full of cans of lager, beer and several bottles of wine. That done, he hurries back, fills another basket with the same and returns. When he heads for the fridge again, Jamal straightens up from his habitual leaning on the counter pose and clears his throat.

"Stewart, I cannae sell you a' that booze. Other folks might want tae buy themselves a bottle of wine or beer for Christmas. You'll clear me out."

Stewart stops, wild panic on his face. "Ye've no' heard, then?" he says. "That landslide at the Rest and Be Thankful has stopped aw the deliveries to the village. Ashley hasnae seen a beer lorry since Caitlin's wedding."

Ah. Two days ago, the reality TV star and 'self-made' billionaire Caitlin Cartier decided to get married in Lochalshie (it's a very long story). It was a fantastic day for Ashley, owner of the Lochside Welcome, the venue for Caitlin's nuptials. He worships the ground the famous one walks on plus she bunged so much money behind the bar, he won't need to sell another drink until the end of January at least.

On the other hand, her husband's family are Irish, and they matched the villagers in determination to drain the bar dry. The Lochside Welcome is Stewart's second home. The prospect of a beer-free one has sent him into free fall panic mode.

Stewart's revelation also explains the lack of food in Jamal's store. If beer lorries aren't getting through, neither are the food trucks. I see the gleam in Jamal's eyes. A man calculating how much he can charge for food once its availability becomes scarce.

I pick up my basket and head for the fridge myself. We're supposed to be going to Jack's mum for Christmas dinner, but it might be wise to stock up. I pay for the stuff before Jamal has the chance to triple his prices and head back home, weak sunlight doing its best to poke through dark clouds.

Mildred turns her nose up at the tuna, disdainful whisker twitch in place. Jack listens to my story of the blocked road and lorries not getting through, nodding slowly.

"Aye, I'd heard something about that. We'd better pop by. See if Ashley needs any help."

He holds out a hand and I take it, enjoying the comforting crush of the new ring on my wedding finger. I tilt my face up to peck him on the cheek and he catches me out, turning his face so his lips land on mine. "And then, Gaby-sketch, back to bed, hmm? Mildred keeps telling me she needs bodies in there to keep her warm."

As if! But what Mildred asks for, Mildred gets. I grin and point at my crotch. "At this rate, oh handsome hunk of a husband, I'm going to end up permanently bow-legged. Are you okay with that?"