Lola's Lurching Life

"Hmmm, what a looker you are and take after your grandmother in that respect, I see. I attempted to lay her a couple of times though she was older than me and dammit, I got halfway there each time when she remembered she had a husband."

Lola offered, "It's difficult for men to accept that some women have morals."

"Ah, perhaps that perky comment was said by your gran when she was pulling her panties back up."

"Thanks for those lovely memories Duncan, I'm Lola," she laughed.

Duncan appeared impressed.

"So, you don't aim to call me Mr Stewart until I suggested otherwise?"

Lola knew this was the time to impress and seized the opportunity.

"No, as soon as you drove up and eyed me appreciatively, I sensed immediate empathy between us and went for gold."

"Am I supposed to know what empathy means?"

"You have to be a fool to act the fool expertly, Mr Stewart. Besides, Alana mentioned that you came here forty years ago with a mate who'd also had lost his wife, recruited by New Zealand Government officials in the UK as school teachers to ease the shortage in this country of science, maths and music teachers in our secondary schools and you ended up retiring as a school principal."

"Ah, well that's Alana and her fat mouth. There are not many of her acquaintances who call her by her first name with confidence, and you'll be the youngest females by far that I've ever heard call her Alana. But obviously she regards you highly. Do you play the bagpipes or have ever attempted to?"

"No and no."

Screwing up his red and purple cheeks, Duncan said, "Meaning?"

"No and no."

"Hmm. Obviously, you cannot be easily bullied. You were answering my two questions succinctly."

Lola smiled and said, "Let's go inside to semi-contain the sound of the pipes that can send cats, dogs and some people running off in terror."

Duncan pulled a straight instrument from his bag and asked did she know what it was.

"A chanter. It contains a reed for blowing through and has the holes that, if properly fingered, can be used to play melodies for practising or the instrument can be attached to the bag of pipes."

"And may I ask how you know such detail without having ever played the chanter or the full kit?"

"I learned to play the recorder at primary school and went on to learn the flute at secondary school and played the flute in school and amateur orchestras that including playing it solo at recitals."

"Therefore, you can play the chanter and therefore probably could play the bagpipes with minimal tuition."

"I guess so, but we are together to rehearse."

"Agreed but please stand with your hands hanging straight and shoulders squared."

He stroked his chin stubble, eyeing her.

"You probably have forgotten, Duncan. They are called breasts."

"Shut up girl. I was assessing your chest overall. It appears very strong and you will have the capacity to pump up the bag and keep it pumped up to play the pipes with endurance."

"Thanks for that, Duncan. That's most edifying but will the sky fall in with me comparing the sound of a classical flute makes to the racket that comes out of the pipes, err, in most instances?"

"I'm offended, but man enough to bare it."

"Thanks Duncan. I can ease your disappointment by saying I once attended an event that ended with massed Scottish bands playing, perhaps 300 musicians involved, and it was really awesome, sending shivers up my spine. I've also seen on TV of a lone piper high up on a rampart of Edinburgh Castle playing a lament and judged that to be incredibly awesome and I began to weep. And Duncan, think of playing 'Amazing Grace' interpreted by me as a lament, although I'm told it's a funeral song emitting both sadness and hope."

"Thank you, dear girl. You have me back on side. Little wonder you can call Mrs Redpath Alana to her face. Look, while I'm setting up could you get your flute and play 'Danny Boy' for me. Do you know it?

"Goodness me, oh yes."

When she finished playing it, Duncan sniffed twice and said, "You really are a musician. Bring the flute with you on Sunday and after we finish 'Amazing Grace', and the acclaim dies and we are expected to depart from the stage, we'll break with tradition and irresponsibly play 'Danny Boy', that is much-loved in Scotland and was written 200 years ago by an Englishman and set to an Irish tune."

Lola said, "We could be lynched."

"Or our contribution could be long remembered by those in attendance."

"Or perhaps remembered for a few days," Lola laughed. "Duncan Stewart, I bet you were a naughty boy when you were young and still retain that same of urge to jump the restraints."

He grinned, eyeing the young woman appreciatively

That evening, Alana called Duncan.

"Well?"

"She's adorable, the most compelling young woman I know, and the truth be known I don't know many these days."

"Duncan, I'm on tenterhooks."

"She's okay, a soprano."

"Duncan!"

"She and I will make beautiful music, on the night. No worries. Now may I get back to 'Coronation Street'?"

"I'm surprised you watch that English rubbish on TV."

"Elana, the truth now. Do you watch it?"

"Yes, the ad break is just finishing. Bye and thanks for the good news."

* * *

On Sunday, Cooper arrived to pick up Lola wearing a black felt jacket, fancy white shirt and tartan kilt and matching crew socks and shiny black shoes.

"Hi handsome," Lola said and kissed Duncan and admired his full regalia.

"You look really splendid."

"I decided not to sulk over being made to attend this event with you because you have shown me you deserve my full support.

Lola let that comment go without biting, if indeed it was uttered as bait to attract grovelling compliments and excessive gratitude."

She was dressed in a fluffy pink dress that ended midway down her lower legs. Her hair was beautifully done, with a string of imitation pearls woven through it.

"Your hair is professionally groomed," he said. "Hairdressers don't work on Sundays so did you have to sleep standing up to keep it looking right?"

"When I called my new hairdresser for a late Saturday appointment and she asked me how I wanted the comb-up to be done, said invited me to come to her home early this afternoon and worked on this creation. She has two young children and her husband is in banking with his job possibly on the line if the economy doesn't begin to sizzle soon, and so she is taking any after-hours that she can to put the pennies away. She's my type of woman and I expect we'll become great friends if you continue pulling me up by my bootlaces."

"Is that want affect I'm having on you?" Cooper said in disbelief. "You have mention something like that a couple of times and I understood that helping me would also help you a bit, but not to the extent of loosening you up sufficiently to make a real difference. Golly, that's amazing."

"I think so too, Cooper. In going out with you tonight, I'm expecting to regard that as my 'coming out' of depression following my failed marriage."

"I understand my darling, and I'll love seeing the ladies practically swoon over you. You look positively glamorous."

Dougal, who'd arrived to travel with them, was introduced to Cooper and he whispered to Lola, "Glamorous indeed and there will be more to come this evening. Just a moment, I need to return to the car."

"Mrs Redpath dropped this into me earlier this afternoon. She said it's a lightweight shawl in the McIntyre ancient hunting tartan from Mr Stewart. Mrs Redpath said you would be wearing pink tonight and she dug out this cute silver brooch from my mum's things that she had locked away."

"Oh, Cooper, it's so fragile and beautiful."

"I want you to keep it."

"It's too early for that. I bet your mother adored it. Wait until we get to know one another better, huh?"

He scratched his head and said, "That's exactly the words Mrs Redpath used when she told me not to be in a rush to shower you with gifts."

"Well that's settled. After tonight, the brooch goes back for Mrs Redpath to lock away. I'm very happy that you want to give it to me, but please not too soon. I think we should go. Would you like to stay with me tonight?"

"You mean...?"

"Yes, in my bed. Sex is you wish, nothing but to sleep if that's your choice. It's a very open invitation."

"Y-you think acceptance is wise?"

"Yes, but you think about it. I'm just being neighbourly."

"I wish all of my neighbours who are as pretty as you would be as sharp-thinking as you and invite me over to sleep with them."

"I bet, and dream on!"

Cooper hugged Lola and muzzled his lips against her neck.

She stood smiling after that and said, "I think you like me."

"That's so very true. Here, point to where you'd like me to pin the brooch."

* * *

The president of the Retirement Village's resident's committee, who was Scottish, welcomed everyone including resident's visitors.

Before she made a short speech, her husband quoted a Robert Burns poem as a short prayer.

Then Mrs Reid handed over the meeting to Alana Redpath as the regular 'Mistress of Ceremonies' at the village and organiser of that night's annual Scottish Dinner.

The dining room was packed and the doors of the adjoining lounge were open and the furniture had been cleared to enable the tables for some of the 224 dinner guests to extend into that area and a wall-mounted TV monitor gave an improved view of the entertainment stage.

"Good evening everyone," said Alena.

"First our VIP."

"Please stand, Angus Roberts and wife Maggie and his mother Rosie."

"A big hand for Angus everyone. Angus is a major manufacturer in the Wairau Valley near here and is our village's Business Patron and Rosie his mother is one of our residents of note."

Applause was loud.

"Please stand, Cooper Roper."

"Stand!" Lola hissed, and he obeyed.

"This is Cooper's first visit to the village where his mother, the late Iona, was our Local Resident Patron for eighteen years and I worked on Iona's staff for 37 years. Cooper barely survived the vehicle crash that took the lives of his parents and he required extensive medical treatment in Australia for head trauma and only recently returned to live in Roper Mansion on the foreshore of Lake Pupuke. He's still recovering. Thank you, Cooper."

He appeared to appreciate the prolonged clapping.

"Please stand Duncan Stewart of Devonport and Miss Lola Hunt, of the Gatehouse Cottage to Roper Mansion."

Someone interjected, "These two are not related and barely are known to each other but a warm welcome to famous bagpiper Duncan Stewart of Devonport..."

There was huge clapping, his name now meaning something to many dinner attendees.

The interjector continued, "Duncan knew Lola's grandmother well, actually acutely well for a time, and the late and great Flora McIntyre sang for many groups on the North Shore including here at our village."

"Alana knew them both very well and has come to know Lola well in very short time. She found who Lola's grandmother was and asked could Lola sing, and she said aye, and after further questioning, slotted in Lola for tonight's second last entertainer."

"Lola asked about the possibility of having a piper accompany her in singing her song. Alana wondered if she could entice Duncan out of retirement to pipe an accompany an occasional singer, not just any singer, but a young woman who was the late Flora McIntyre's granddaughter, I ask, how could he not accept that request and make his inaugural appearance at our 23-year-old Scottish Night and indeed his first appearance at this village. We all here tonight salute you, Duncan."

That was greeted with huge acclamation,

Alana said, "That interjection was pre-arranged and delivered by our beloved resident and singer at this village, Maggie Bruce, who'll sing the closing number as usual tonight."

"Now, let our dinner begin. I ask our resident and retired long-serving church elder Emily Bell to say grace."

Two items were presented between each of the first three courses of the 7-course meal and finally Lola Annie Hunt accompanied by renown piper, Duncan Stewart, were called to perform.

Later as Lola rose to leave her seat, Cooper said, "Good luck. All of this has given me reason for being here. I salute you."

On stage while Duncan was preparing his pipes, Lola said into the microphone, "I've mainly sang at the weddings of relatives and none of that prepared me for a huge private gathering that I see before me tonight. I am enjoyed this dinner so far and I won't let you down. This shawl that I wear as a wrap is was given this evening, via my new friend Duncan Stewart, belonged to my late grandmother and is the ancient hunting McIntyre tartan. This brooch I'm wearing was lent to me this evening by my neighbour and new friend Cooper Roper. The Scottish brooch belonged to his later mother, Iona Roper."

"I have some Scottish blood but mainly English. However, tonight I'm feeling like I used to be whenever I was in the company of my beloved gran, Flora. I feel very Scottish."

"Great, Duncan is indicating he's almost ready, just a couple of test drones and we will be away. Gran Flora use to insist that I must be word perfect reciting 'Amazing Grace', when I was three years old. Don't ask me to swear was that correct because I can't remember much of before I was about five. I sing it as a soloist and then Duncan and I will do it again, inviting you all to join in. Duncan and I then have a wee non-Scottish surprise for your but something beloved by Scots and the English-speaking world. Thank you."

The applause was polite.

"Okay buddy," Lola said to her new friend softly. "Let's floor them."

Under the beauty of a piped near-lament, Lola sang to an audience that soon appeared to be spellbound. Afterwards some would say it was the beauty of the piping, many would contend it was Lola singing to her late grandmother.

The applause was deafening.

Lola waved in acknowledgement and then she and Duncan repeated the song and the audience joined in. And at the end everyone applauded Duncan and Lola and themselves.

As arranged with Lola, Duncan played the first two verses to get the audience adjusted to they were about to hear on Scottish night a song written by an Englishman to an Irish tune.

But Lola sang with such exquisiteness, as 'Danny Boy' was her most request song and her favourite above all others, that she sang with tears running down her cheeks and a few others in the audience wept or were misty-eyed. At intervals, Lola joined the soft piping with the glorious sound of her flute.

When they finished, she and Duncan left going behind the stage to the din of many people standing and clapping and others foot-stomping and yelling.

Alana came to the microphone and said, "Well that was really something. A first-class performance, I say."

Many shouted in agreement with her.

Behind the stage, while drinking coffee, Lola said to Duncan, "I repeat my thanks for your enormous support."

He raised an eyebrow and eyed the most attractive thirty-something woman and said, "Are you saying merely being there amounts to enormous support?"

"Yes, indeed, and your piping so inspired me to give my best."

He smiled, displaying yellowing teeth and said, "You really are a breath of fresh air. I believe most performers ask 'Was I good?' and yet here are you praising me for my support and piling me with thanks."

"You are not required to accept my gratitude."

"Oh, you may be only partly Scot but was are as canny as a full-blooded one who has seen the best and the worst of their world over their years of living."

"Thanks, Duncan. You play with heart and you're a fine man."

Duncan choked and then said, "Lassie, I want you to sing 'Amazing Grace' at my funeral.'

"Of course, but with the proviso that it's someway off. Should I not be invited to do that at the time, I shall sing it over your grave at dawn one clear morning."

"Christ, I wish you had been my granddaughter," Duncan said, finger-flicking at the corner of both eyes.

As they walked off to their seats in the dining room, Lola reflecting on that brief moment she'd just spent alone with Duncan, thought it was one of those great fleeting moments in one's life. She hoped she'd long recall it.

After the serving of tea or coffee, biscuits and cheese, Alana assisted Maggie Bruce on stage who appeared to have a wonky knee.

"Oh my, that young woman's voice was so appropriate for 'Amazing Grace' and she sung it so well, but 'Danny Boy', omigod, she sang like it like an angel. And you know what, I believe I'd adore listening to her singing 'Mull of Kintyre'. I believe she should be declared an honorary Scotswoman."

That was greeted clapping and other sounds of approval. Maggie than sang 'Annie Laurie' that produced tears from her and some others in the audience and she responded warmly to requests that she repeat the much-favoured song.

Later as Cooper and Lola, arm-in-arm reached his late mother's car, other visitors, mainly the women, called, "Good night Lola."

Cooper said, "In stepping out tonight and creating a mantra of localised fame, you have shed your right to be called as recluse.

"That's bullshit," Lola laughed. "But I appreciate the thought, a rather complex thought, as a further sign of you regaining the fullness of your former self."

"Omigod, such flowery language from us is overwhelming," Cooper mused. "Say something pragmatic."

Lola, who bent severely to get into the low-lying vehicle, asked, "Have you thought of replacing their vehicle with something more suited by a squire who may well become a property developer and owner of a winery or two?"

"Christ."

"What?"

"There you go again. While you were on or behind the stage, I had a similar thought. Although it's my mother's car, it's only a car and even when I relocate, I'll continue to possess some of her personal treasures to serve as my life-long memories of her."

"That similarity in thinking, and the word 'wave-length' have been mentioned before, but I can't see anything beyond the fact that it was just a mutually shared pragmaticism from two people who live in close proximity."

"I'm inclined to agree with that Lola and perhaps I'm more acutely aware of mental situations than you because of what I've been going through. Anyway, does it really matter?"

"Quite."

He nodded and said, "My first thought was Land Rover. And yours."

"Fuck."

"Lola," Copper laughed, driving off. "I repeat, it doesn't matter. Did the picture of a Land Rover just pop into your head?"

"Yes," she murmured.

"Look, I'll replace it with a Mercedes or BMW wagon."

"No, when I pictured a Land Rover, I thought a perfect choice for you and your life-style. Let's say logic wins."

As they drove up to the Gatehouse, Lola asked, "Please stay the night. It's turning out being a big night for both of us."

"Okay but I'll shoot up to the house and get my gear."

"No, please don't. You may weaken and decide not to return."

"Okay."

Lola giggled and said, "Congratulations for being submissive at the appropriate moment."

"Is that what is called?"

"In my book. I'm not to know if it's simply good sense and the novelty of the situation has seduced you."

Cooper asked, "Why did you choose that particular word?"

"Oh, I don't really know. In conversation, words are uttered rather spontaneously and I guess the word 'novelty' is one of those words I use occasionally when it spontaneously falls into place as a perfect fit."

"Ah, that's a tad devious; you know I meant the word 'seduced'.

Lola just laughed, knowing he'd be aware she knew he was on to her.

"Coffee, or coffee and brandy or just brandy?"

"Both, thanks. Are you attempting to soften me up?"

"Just to relax you. You may sleep with me, or the second bedroom or the couch. I thought you should get out and about a bit, even stay away from home a night or two, as part of your progression towards regaining normality.