We drove back to the hotel.
We were in the hotel room and I had to leave early so I left Ali in bed and drove to work. When I came back he was embarrassed. The B&B owner had come in to clean the room and there was Ali, bollocks dangling over the edge of the bed, just out of the shower, with nothing to cover his modesty. "It happens all the time", she said. I had gone to apologise.
Life was anything but dull with Ali. He had an exuberance about him. He made me laugh out loud and we made the most of our valuable and snatched time together.
It was a married couple who owned the B&B They had a young baby and they were quite bohemian looking. We went back there again and again, as it was close to town, being on Gilmore Place, which was full of B&Bs.
The insurance Company got back in touch with my Company, who were mediating the insurance claim on my work car. I had to write a narrative as to what had happened, draw position diagrams in the insurance pamphlet, and detail times, and complete all the boxes of the form. Once that was submitted the next problem was the woman was driving without insurance. I learnt a very valuable lesson from this situation. Months passed and finally I was advised that I would have to testify in court against her. I turned up to find from the lawyer that she was a no show. It turned out she was also unemployed. The court said they would either charge her £1.40 a week because she was on Government benefits, and that was all they could recoup. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I would have had a criminal record. She had no money so the court decided there was no benefit in pursuing her, despite her crimes.
I had to get about in a Rover until my car was restored but it took the shine off my lovely new car. When it was returned it still had its lovely new smell and I couldn't see the repair line. The light worked too!
I had spoken to Ali's parents on the phone but I was going to meet them today. I drove him through to Glasgow green. People all over the world flock to the World championships. I had realised that my life had moved from visiting Quig at the weekend to chauffeuring Ali to pipe band competitions. Whilst it was great to see new places in Scotland and was a very different life to what I had known up until now, it wasn't really representative as to about what I liked to do, with my precious free time. Public houses and pipe bands were not what I was passionate about but, for now, I went with the flow. At least there was some retail therapy and some food to boot!
His parents came over to greet us. His Father smiled a friendly smile. Ali had had his Father's eyes passed down to him. Their eyes had a similar lively expression. He had a fifties, salt and pepper coloured hair cut and he was built the same as Ali. In terms of dress, Ali's Father looked the part with a hat to match his Scottish jacket, hunting dress kilt, hose and brogues. He was stomping about like he owned the place with his umbrella. His wife, who was introduced to me was very reserved. There were no smiles. She had an impish face, which was framed with closely cropped hair at the back, almost boyish, but bleached a brassy blonde. Her upturned nose had specs perched low and she was conservatively dressed with a skirt and blouse covered over with a oilskin raincoat of dark, metallic green. They were accompanied by a very sweet boy, Ali's brother, who was nine and was dressed in miniature but in black, like his Dad. He had a look of Ali but his hair was in a crew cut and brown.
Ali promptly left me in their care. Awkward!
"So do you still think you've sold me a watch with no hands?" I joked with his Father.
He gave out a chuckle, "With my son? Very much so!"
I walked with them. "So," I asked, "what is the format for today?"
"Well," Ali's Father said, with an authoritative tone, "throughout the year bands take part across Scotland, in competitions. Each band plays and competes but Grade 1 is the prestigious grade." He had a really thick accent and it was hard to understand him at times. The interest wasn't really mine either, so I really had to hang onto every word and it wasn't working. Don't get me wrong, I love music, and also liked to watch Ali practising his drum, but to be part of a pipe band held no interest with me.
Whilst a band prepared to play, I noticed that they all had their place in the formation. A lot were actually quite young, which I suppose made sense. I had started playing the violin after all at six.
I got a narrative for the first band. Someone came round and tuned the pipes. I watched as they tweaked the associated drones, and removed then replaced the hide bag to its home, and grabbed the chanter stock again.
"So the judge there will listen to see that they all start together, play in unison and have a great tone."
There was a selection of different drum types, and they all sounded crisp and uniform to my ear. They marched off when they had played their set.
"Bands travel from all over the world to compete." Mr McGregor said. An Irish band won the championships and they were 'crowned' accordingly.
It had gone on, and on. I had brought some juice and crisps. We pooled refreshments. Mrs McGregor spread out a picnic blanket and passed around sandwiches to her family. I declined gracefully but thanked her sincerely. When I said I was vegetarian she looked at me like I had two heads, but gave me an egg sandwich. It was a long and drawn out day but I was relieved to find common ground with Mrs McGregor who also liked looking at the silver jewellery stalls. It would have been very easy to spend as there were so many stalls, and the food stalls were expensive too. As we left for Ali's home, we walked passed a carpet manufacturer's building. It was beautifully designed. I was more interested in that than the whole day, but said nothing.
Ali had cleared with his family that I could stay the night. I was given his sister's old room. She no longer lived there. It was very much as she had left it but it was kind of them to put me up. They went to bed and gave us some space to watch TV and be together. It was the first time that we had a normal existence of TV, conversation and whilst we went to the pub in Stonehouse, followed by Fish & Chips, the pub was a very different experience to that of The Scotsman. In the lounge downstairs, it had drawings of all the locals on the walls. Upstairs there was a pool table. It was the local for sure and Ali knew a lot of people. He did warn me that his ex also frequented it and sure enough she was in there the night we first went. I wasn't jealous. I knew this was only a short lived thing that would probably end naturally with him being posted back to Germany. It was nice though, a bit of normality and a slower pace.
We played pool. "So why did you guys split up?" I asked.
"I was coming home off leave for a weekend and the guys arranged a weekend of bevvying in Edinburgh. The option was to come home and see Charlie or go out with them. I was supposed to ring her and didn't – I got drunk with the troops instead." He laughed. I wondered if there was any guilt there. I couldn't see it and it bothered me. More like, he gets more from drinking than being with her. It was a legitimate concern. His priorities were beer.
"Given that you spend so much time with them, why do you enjoy hanging out with them so much outside work. Isn't it a bit like work outside work?"
"It's hard to explain," he tried to clarify, "but we work such long hours and we're operational for so long. When we're not doing army things, these guys know you so well and there's such a good patter with them, it's just easier to spend time with them. As a civvie it's hard to get, I know."
It was. We had nothing in common at all, in that respect. They say opposites attract, I thought.
The following day after breakfast I drove us into Glasgow. It was an unknown place to me. "All the museums," Ali told me, "are free across the city." I drove through the south side of the city to the park, where the Burrell collection was housed. The parkland was just beautiful. It wasn't the driest of days but the rabbits were running around the grounds. It was so peaceful. The collection, I read was down to wealth, and as a result, a collection created by a philanthropic Burrell. The building had been built 10 years ago and it was really interesting to see how they had included authentic stained glass and other items into the architecture. What struck me was how diverse the collection was, and so large. Where was it housed originally; so much art and antiquities, with a sandstone entrance and sculptures nearby. I loved too that there had been rooms uplifted and installed in building. It was way beyond a collection in a traditional sense. Ali was there but I don't think he got the same out of it. That said, he had taken me and his Father had suggested it. I had to drive back home.
Every Sunday Ali's parents went to mass with Mark. Ali asked "are you coming?"
I was no stranger to mass. There was a makeshift chapel in the town. A small number attended mass. I did go with them. Ali's Father had been drinking so I drove them all down to the Chapel. We piled in and mid mass I heard mini snores. Ali's Father was more drunk than I had imagined. His family let him sleep. This looked like an event that didn't surprise them. I was surprised nothing was said. I dropped them back and then drove home. I slept well.