#STREAM MAY BE DOWN BUT THANK GOD FOR BEST FRIENDS WHO MOVE TO NEW ZEALAND

[meat-wentz]

MORE IMAGES FROM MY POINT OF CONTACT

[isitgintimeyet]

Letting Go

AO3

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Thanks for reading. The journey’s not over yet!

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and to @happytoobservenolongerdistant

Chapter 5: Girls’ Talk

Got a loaded imagination Bein' fired by girls talk It's a more or less situation Inspired by girls talk

Elvis Costello

It was just after one in the morning when Claire finally felt able to leave Mrs. Crook’s flat and return to her own. She hadn’t really been listening out for the return of the others, but as she got ready for bed, it was clear that they appeared to be making a night of it. Not that it was any of her concern, of course.

The next morning, having checked on her patient and found her to be a bit sore and bruised but otherwise in good form, Claire stepped outside for a run. She wasn’t actually keen on running, but it seemed a necessary evil, based on the amount of baked goods she knew would be coming her way from Mrs. Crook in the very near future. And, she thought as her feet led her to the park nearby, my style can’t exactly be classed as running.

********

Nine years ago

“I waited fer ye tae catch up wi’ me, Sassenach. Are ye out of breath?”

“... er… can’t... talk… need... a minute…”

“We’ve no’ gone verra far, and ye’re no’ even doin’ proper runnin’. Ye’re jes’ kinda bobbin’ up and down and flappin’ yer arms a bit. Come on, let’s go a wee bit further.”

“How.. how… can you not be out of breath at all?... This will be the death of me, James Fraser... I’m only doing this because I love you.”

“I ken, and I’m only doin’ this so I can watch yer arse jigglin’ around...aye, like that.”

“Let go, I’m all sweaty and stinky… oh, where’re we going?”

“Back tae yer place. I have plans tae get ye even sweatier and then clean ye up… see, look how fast ye can run when ye want tae.”

******

Red-faced and slightly smelly, Claire stood at the entrance to the flats trying to extricate her key from her pocket while juggling a large cup of coffee and the heavy mass of Sunday newspapers. The door suddenly opened from the inside and Jamie appeared in the doorway.

Startled, Claire’s grip on the newspapers relaxed and they began to slide out of her hand. Instinctively, Jamie reached out and grabbed them, tucking them securely under Claire’s arm.

“Er, thanks.”

“Ye seem tae be making a habit of dropping things.” Jamie responded, no trace of humour in his voice.

“Sorry.” Claire wasn’t sure what she was actually apologising for, but felt compelled to say something. “Er… did you have a good time last night?”

“Aye, it was grand, verra good food.” Jamie spoke formally, as though to a stranger. “And how is yer neighbour now?”

“She’s doing well. She’s one tough cookie.” Claire winced inwardly, the obvious Americanism sounding false to her ears.

“That’s good tae hear. Well, goodbye then.”

“Bye.”

******

The pile of newspapers lay untouched on the sofa next to Claire. She leant her head back and closed her eyes, trying to make sense of her emotions over the past twenty-four hours. So many questions crowded her mind. Was he married, or was it a coincidence that a Mr. And Mrs. Fraser were currently living in her house? Would she see him again, and if so, would the frigidity between them ever thaw? Could they ever become, well, not exactly friends but amicable acquaintances? And, he had obviously stayed the night in one of the flats, but which one? He had never agreed with the idea of casual sex, but that was eight years ago. A lot can change in that time. And if so, would it have been Mary or Anna?

In the interests of being neighbourly, Claire told herself, she decided to go and see Mary and Anna to give them an update on Mrs. Crook’s condition.

It was a very bleary-eyed and pale Anna, wrapped in a faded bathrobe, who opened the door to Claire. Coughing, she shuffled her way into the semi darkness of the living room, Claire following behind. Mary sat, similarly attired, nursing a large glass of orange juice.

Mary cleared her throat. “Morning, fancy a coffee then, Claire?”

“Tell you what, you both relax and I’ll make coffees for all of us. And where do you keep the paracetamol? I think you could do with some.”

While the coffee was brewing, Claire found the paracetamol and gave two to each of the sisters. Ignoring their cries of protest, she opened the curtains and let the midday sun stream into the room.  

The combination of coffee, orange juice and medication seemed to do the trick. By the time the first mug of coffee had been consumed, followed by a second mug with thickly buttered toast (all prepared by Claire), the sisters were able to fully engage in a conversation, rather than their initial monosyllabic responses.

“So was it a good night last night?” Claire asked casually.

Anna groaned. “I want to say yes… I seem to remember laughing a lot… and we went to a bar… was there karaoke, or am I imagining that?”

Mary laughed. “It wasn’t actual karaoke. That was the bar’s background music… that you insisted to sing along to… at the top of your voice… and with your hairbrush as a mic.”

Anna put her head in her hands. “God, no. How can you remember all this? Were you not drunk too?”

“Apparently not as much as you. Could have been worse, you did ask me which would make a better microphone- your hairbrush or a tampon. I advised the brush!”

“Is that all?”

“Well, you did rather try to force Jamie to sing too. I think he did it to humour you… well, don’t think it could be called singing… more a kind of chanting on one note.”

******

Nine years ago

“I feel wonderful because I see… The love light in yer eyes… And the wonder of it all… Is that ye jes’ don't realise how much I love ye”

“What?”

“Christ, Sassenach, have ye no romance in yer soul? I’m serenading ye here, a wee bit of Eric Clapton”

“Oh, is that what it was? Thanks, that’s a lovely thought, but… er… no… nothing.”

“What? I can tell from that glass face of yers, ye’re no’ impressed. Ok I admit it, I canna sing, I canna hear the music but I listen tae the words, ye ken. Ma voice may be lackin’ but I meant it all, every single word.”

“Oh, Jamie. Come over here and I’ll show you how much I appreciate it.”

*******

“So was everyone drunk then?” Claire continued the interrogation.

“Well, maybe not as much as Anna, but everyone was certainly merry. In the bar, we ordered a bottle of wine but Jamie and John moved onto whisky and I’d stopped drinking at that point, so basically Anna had a full bottle to herself.”

Anna groaned again. “I’ve just remembered walking home. Did I really make Jamie give me a piggyback?”

Mary nodded. “Yup. And you kept stroking his hair while he did.”

“Oh, did Jamie not go home then?” Claire tried to appear indifferent.

“No, John said he could crash at his. Jamie’s home isn’t in Glasgow anyway. It’s somewhere miles away, in the Highlands, I think. He’s been staying with his uncle, or cousin or something down here. Apparently, Jamie’s been in America for years and years and now he’s home for good and reconnecting with everyone.”

Claire thought for a moment and tried to think how best to phrase the next question. There was no way to be subtle about it. “And there’s no Mrs. Fraser, then?”

“Don’t think so. I’m sure he said he had no ties.” Mary answered.

Anna groaned for a third time. “God, don't you hate it when your memory starts coming back? Ignorance really is bliss, you know. I think I asked him why he was single, with a body like his. Don’t look at me like that, you two. I mean, come on, you saw him, what woman wouldn’t want a piece of that?”

“And what did he say?”

“My memory goes a bit hazy then. I think he said something about travelling around too much to settle, and then something about synchronicity... and then I had to go to the bathroom to throw up.”

***************

Claire looked round her office in frustration. Why Human Resources had to perform another audit was beyond her, but, as part of this totally necessary skills and qualifications audit, she had been asked to produce several certificates and diplomas relating to her current role -- originals, not copies. She had found most of the certificates, but was now struggling to locate her diploma for Fellowship of the Royal College of Surgeons. It wasn’t anywhere in her flat, nor was it in any of her office cabinets. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly where it was… in the document safe, in the loft, back at the house. Bugger.

*******

“Ye’ll be staying fer a brew, then will ye?”

“If you’re sure I’m not bothering you, Mrs. Fraser.”

“Och, it’s nae bother… and, please call me Jocasta. Ma husband will be here in a minute. I’m sure he’ll be wantin’ tae meet ye.”

Claire sat in her kitchen (no, remember, not her kitchen any more) while Jocasta busied herself making a pot of tea and adding a tin of shortbread to the table.

“I guess mebbe we should use another room tae sit in, but I do love this kitchen. Murtagh and I eat most of our meals in here.” Jocasta poured the tea and passed it over to Claire.

Sitting across from Claire and picking up a shortbread finger, she continued. “We’re verra happy here, ye ken. I’d been in New Zealand fer nigh on thirty years, went over wi’ ma first husband, but always wanted tae come back. Then when I met Murtagh and we talked about getting married, we kent we’d come home together fer good.”

“Were ye talking about me?” Murtagh came up behind Jocasta and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Murtagh, this is Claire. This is her, weel, her uncle’s house. She needed tae collect something, and now she’s staying fer a cup of tea and a wee chat.”

“Please tae meet ye, Claire. I dare say Jocasta’s told ye we’re mightily fond of this house.” Beneath the heavy dark beard, streaked liberally with silver, he smiled softly. “It’s tae big fer us really, but it means we can have plenty of visitors coming tae stay with us. Ma goddaughter has three bairns. And ma godson is jes’ back in Scotland himself. He’d been in America fer several years.”

Claire started at the mention of Murtagh’s godson. It couldn’t be, and yet… she placed her cup on the table a little too quickly, banging against the biscuit tin.

Murtagh continued. “Aye, he did well over there but there’s always the pull of yer own home. He and his sister live up no’ far from Inverness. A quiet wee place, sae I think he likes tae come and stay fer a bit of excitement, mebbe a lassie or two has caught his eye.”

He gave an exaggerated wink as Jocasta playfully punched his arm. Claire tried to appear calm, but worried about her ‘glass face’, she picked up her cup, holding it in front of her face as some sort of shield.

“Ow, what was that fer?” Murtagh joked. “I’m jes’ sayin’ what I think. ‘Tis high time the lad settled down. Even more so now he’s runnin’ Lallybroch since his da’s heart attack.”

Shocked, Claire inhaled sharply. “Heart attack?” she asked without thinking.

Jocasta studied Claire’s face. “Aye, Murtagh’s cousin had a heart attack six months ago. Why, dear?”

“Oh, no matter,” Claire struggled for a reasonable response. “I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon. Professional interest, that’s all.”

“Professional interest, is it?” Jocasta replied, with a smile. “Aye, that’s all.”

Note: Quote from Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton

[themartinsguide]

Luang Prabang - the perfect place for a bit of chill time

28 January - 2 February 2017 For the record, it was NOT a quick 4 hour ride. More correctly, it was a death defying, 6 hour rally race via minivan. As we barrelled through small villages, passing trucks on blind corners (and if god forbid, another car was coming in the opposite direction we would just form a third lane and squeeze between the truck and the car) as small children basically played amongst the traffic, bottoming out on corners, our Fitbits clocked up 25,000 steps as we clung to the back of the seat in front of us. it You may wonder why we were surprised by this reckless approach to 12 tourists' safety, unless of course you have experienced the pace at which the majority of the Laotian population conduct their daily life. it seems that driving is the one thing these people do quickly. Its one big hurry to get somewhere to do nothing quickly. To say that we were grateful to arrive in Luang Prabang in one piece is an understatement but we were looking forward to spending a solid 5 nights in one place; we feel like we have been constantly on the go since we left New Zealand a month ago. On first impressions Luang Prabang looked like the perfect place for a bit of rejuvenating and detoxing. And we were right (luckily no one offered to buy us a drink!). Prior to our arrival we had trouble finding accomodation matching our usual criteria so had no choice but to splash out (not really) on a family room with ensuite (and breakfast of course) at the "Lakangthong 2 Friendly House" about a 7 minute walk from the main street. As it turns out, Luang Prabang over the period we were there was 100% booked out every night, and every day we would see backpackers wading through the streets in search of accommodation. Very rarely were they successful in securing spot to lay their heads that night. We were feeling quite smug and very thankful for the internet. After settling into our new digs we headed out for a 45 minute run through dusty streets, dozens of tourists and lots of traffic, which helped us to get our bearings in another unfamiliar city. Following a bit of a sweat we headed down to the night markets which were the best we have seen. The street itself was decorated with beautiful fairy lights, the people weren't pushy or harassing, and the goods on offer weren't all crap. In contrast to the calm atmosphere of the market we stumbled across a delicious smelling alleyway filled with buffet after buffet of vegetables and rice/noodle dishes. For a mere $3 each (meat was extra and we can confirm it was also delicious) this was to be our go to for the next few nights. With full bellies we hit our pillows feeling very content. That was until the dogs started barking at around 2am. The walls on all of these places are very thin. Again, a huge thanks goes to the inventor of the earplug. After a lazy Sunday morning catching up on some world news (we all know what this means... don't get us started on "Big D") thanks to CNN and sipping coffee in the sunshine, we headed out for a more thorough exploration of the city, ticking off some of the sites Luang Prabang has to offer. We ended up in the Old Quarter which was delightfully charming and felt like another world away. Filled with gorgeous restaurants (definitely out of our price range despite Hannah salivating over the wine options - Hannah misses wine) and beautiful buildings, we would recommend that those visiting Luang Prabang (which everyone should do at some point) with a more generous budget stay here. Aside from falling in love with the Old Quarter we also passed a few temples (we are slightly ashamed to say that we now only pay to enter a temple if it looks more spectacular than the last one we were in, and given that the last one we entered was at the Grand Palace in Bangkok which housed the spectacular Emerald Buddha, it may be a while before we are in another) and crossed the Bamboo Bridge which was surprisingly terrifying. We rounded off our Sunday by throwing a bit of tin around at "Mr Big Muscle Gym", another hilarious, industrial revolution styled facility, filled with men smaller than Hannah, and watching Federer beat a sour-faced Nadal. Perfect. As it turns out we are not particularly good at doing not much for too long so Monday was spent mountain biking across the Mekong with our own personal tour guide (because we had selected the "hard" trail which we were confident wouldn't be anything like Tim Martin's standard of difficulty) and it was nice to see a bit more of rural Laos. Our tour guide, Ai, was a local of the Luang Prabang District and was therefore very knowledgable about the area, knowledge which he was more than willing to share. We saw the High School he attended (and were stared at as we cycled across their main field), met some of his friends living in the area, and learnt more about the geography of Laos. Children from the small villages we passed would chase us yelling "Hello!" or "Sabadee!" and goats and pigs would scurry out of the way as we hurtled downhill. It was a pretty cool experience. Lunch was meat and rice bought from a local market topped with exceptional chilli sauce purchased from "this really good place" that Ai knew, and we ate it next to a stream with water buffalo looking on inquisitively. Lacking a bit of cycling fitness, we were pretty exhausted by the end of the 4 hour tour. Still, it was nothing that a real flat white (at real flat white prices) drunk on a roof top terrace couldn't fix. As we had finished our cycling expedition earlier than anticipated we decided it was a good night to head up to the Wat atop of Mount Phousi (it's really more of a hill) and watch the sun set. We had heard good things. Obviously so had everyone else. In typical (James) fashion we climbed the stairs (during which Hannah had to buy one of the cages containing two "good luck birds" just to free them on the spot... People were confused but as Hannah was getting visibly worked up by the concept and was showing signs of exploding, James ushered her quickly along) to the top and arrived with an hour to kill. However we were able to secure a front row seat for the action, although we were unable to block out the unnecessary power pole that had been positioned behind the "viewing rock", smack bang in front of the gorgeous views (efficiency and functionality always seem to win in South East Asia). The viewing rock also proved entertaining as dozens of Asian tourists scrambled all over it trying to capture the perfect selfie. With patience starting to run thin, the man who chose to launch his drone to capture the view (and obviously loving the attention) could not have picked a worse time. As James muttered threats of violence the drone flew loudly overhead. Hannah went and inquired as to when he would be taking it down and was assured it would be before sunset. We then took the mature option of pulling the fingers at the drone whenever it flew near. Said drone did in fact land prior to sunset only to be promptly replaced by another, the owner of which made the smart move of hiding their whereabouts. In the meantime James was asked by a young Asian male tourist to film the release of the good luck birds he had purchased, a task which James promptly screwed up (the poor guy really could not have asked a worse person to complete the simple technological task) and before it was too late the birds had made a dash for it. As we rolled about in fits of hysterics, the poor guy looked like he was about to cry. We told him the drone guy might have some footage for him. Sunset finally came and we took some quick snaps and bolted, but failed to beat the masses trudging ever so slow back down the hill. It was definitely time for dinner. As Tuesday dawned we had no idea that it was to be one of the best days we've had yet. Cashing in yet another generous Christmas present, we were picked up at 8.30am and driven out to Elephant Village, a sanctuary for Elephants saved from the logging industry. Aware of the stigma around the riding of elephants, we chose this tour company carefully and were not disappointed. The activities began with learning a few basic commands which we then got to put into practice. After a brief visit to the on site museum where we learnt about the harsh realities of the most of the elephants living in Laos (for those of you who have some spare cash lying around you can save a elephant by giving Elephant Village $35,000 USD to purchase one), we crossed the river and met the two baby elephants living at the Village. Maxi and Mae, 4 and 5 years old respectively, were very pleased to see us and our bunches of bananas. It was then time for an elephant ride (no seats were used) down the river. We were each allocated an elephant and a mahout to guide us in the direction of lunch. It was incredible. James, in true James fashion (eye roll) lost his jandal while we were in the deepest part of the river which prompted Hannah's mahout to jump in and save it. The mahout then proceeded to put on James' jandal (which was far too big for him), gesture to his friends, and giggle hysterically for the remainder of the journey. After a delightful buffet lunch (just the usual rice and curry but made more exceptional by the surroundings and current situation) it was time to "wash" our elephants (that was not a euphemism; there was no other way to say it). This consisted of riding our elephant into the river where it proceeded to kneel down and we were handed a scrubbing brush. The mahouts then instructed the elephant to spray river water all over us. Hilarious gag but such a fun experience. Our elephant outing ended with a boat trip up the river to one of the least impressive waterfalls we have ever seen. Still, it could have been a pond and a water feature for all we cared. Buzzing from an elephantastic day out, we decided to head along to the "Big Brother Mouse" English School where english speaking tourists are encouraged to come along and make conversation with the students. Most of the students are high schoolers and are of varying abilities. Given James' experience teaching english in Poland, and his self inflated ego, he was off teaching adverbs while Hannah took a while to warm up. Still, 90 minutes passed by in a flash and we were asked to come back the next night. We didn't, but it's still nice to be asked. On the morning of 1 February (who can believe its February already?!) we set our alam in time to make the 6am Giving of Alms Buddhist ceremony in which people line the streets as Buddhists file passed to collect their day's food. Luckily for us we saw the ceremony being carried out by locals in the quiet darkness of the back streets before heading to the main street where the rest of Luang Prabang's tourists seemed to be. What we saw there made us a bit embarrassed to be a tourist and while we don't want to sound pompous, the instructions were clear; we were all meant to hang back, NOT use a flash, and KEEP QUIET. Rage. It was time for another flat white. Our last full day in Laos was a lazy one (we can't get to used to these) and following the Ceremony we went back to bed for a couple of hours (don't judge us), caught up on some admin, drank coffee around the hostel, and after a careful budgeting exercise we decided to head to the local pool (read: pool for tourists) to work on our tans (it's a hard life). This facility was obviously set up by an entrepreneur who saw a lack of hotels with pools and a lot of tourists who like to lie by pools and we enjoyed it immensely. The day ended with another run and dinner at the trusty night market buffet. On 2 February 2017 we caught a late afternoon flight to Hanoi. Although the most expensive transportation option by far, we decided an hour in the air was preferable to 32 hours in the sleeper bus. Our decision was made when the travel agent told Hannah that one of the busses crashed last week. James was very pleased with the decision when he discovered that the minimart inside the terminal sold cheap beers that could be consumed throughout the airport. He reconciled his choice to drink four with the reasoning that we weren't really in Luang Prabang anymore and he could still say he didn't have a drop while we had been. It made sense to Rubber-Arms Hannah and she was quickly on board. And as per the rules, when the drinks cart went past us midair, we were obliged to accept. We will miss BeerLao (although it tastes suspiciously like Heineken...).