In the Rain An another purely fictitious short story

 

 

Chapter I

 

Ashley McNamara, forty years -old was recalling memories of her past, her parents, still alive both sixty-seven years old were Darren and Lily McNamarra,Scottish nationals. Darren was the son of Peter McNamara, A Scottish national of Scottish and Irish descent, (Peter McNamara’s paternal lineage had originated from an Irish city called Dingle. Nearly all were writers, fiddle players and florists And Peter's maternal lineage, the Alistairs were a family of coopers known for their tradition of making Scottish whisky) Peter McNamara was a famous columnist in Edinburgh who was a genius reporter who wrote about Scottish landscapes and castles and was much appreciated. And Mary Belev, an English woman and a gifted teacher.

 

Mary had some Scandinavian and Lithuanian blood, more precisely the Belevs were a lineage of sailors from Denmark and Lithuania who had moored alongside the English coasts to finally land in London in 1870.

 

Ashley's mother was born Lily Abergele McCormick, an English national who had emigrated to Scotland who had some Scottish blood and a mother who was a painter and came from a very old Sephardi Jewish family who had settled in the British Isles already in 1600. The McNamara lived together in Edinburgh in a small Scottish mansion by the sea. This mansion was a family inheritance, Peter McNamara, Ashley’s grandfather had bought the mansion way back in 1970 to settle here with Darren and Mary. Ashley had taken the path of her grandmother Adda Abergele and had decided to become a painter in the style of Chagall. Ashley was average tall, slim, with very long and thick brown hair she dyed blond very often and two big brown eyes, she made up with a lot of eye liner and mascara. She wore white dresses and skirts. Everything in her was luminous, her smile to start with and her bedroom upstairs too.

 

 

 

 

Ashley had had a boyfriend when she was twenty- five whose name was Malcom Smith a neighbor who had settled near her, he had a little girl Abby from a previous marriage, he lived near a lighthouse. Ashley’s splitting up with Malcom after seven years had been a disaster to her. And she had heard they were gone- It is possible he had gone back to his wife Anne- Sophie however Ashley had not been kept informed nevertheless she was resolute: she wanted to have them back. Abby was about to turn twenty she was probably going to college Ashley could not believe it, she was twelve the last time she saw her, she had not received a single news since. She was the best stepmother Abby could have, they had developed a strong friendship, they had painted together played games watched amazing films, went to the lighthouse all together for picnics, Anne -Sophie and her new boyfriend Matthews had been included, Abby had not been feeling cornered and she had three half-brothers Jack, William and Edward now aged fourteen and a half, sixteen and eighteen. Ashley missed Abby, Abigail Lee Smith a lot. She reminded her of herself when she was little with her angelic curls and blue eyes. Malcom Smith was English he was born in Liverpool and had decided to settle in Edinburgh with his wife Anne- Sophie Lee a woman born in Paris to an Irish father John Lee, a real estate (also from Dingle) agent and Marlène Blanchet, a Parisian and a local seamstress, a very beautiful woman. The Lees had met and married in a local church and had lived in a very well-off neighborhood in a beautiful, terraced house near by a true "café français" where a Parisian breakfast was served every morning, a lot of poached eggs and coffees with milk.

 

Abigail, Abby Lee-Smith was watching herself in the mirror brushing her curls red and dark the young woman was graciously slim with a peculiar beauty. Charms she had inherited from both her grandmothers she was told. And this was true. She had these gigantic Irish sea eyes so blue she inherited from the Lees with the same nostalgic and elegant air than her grandmother Marlène Blanchet She had Marlene’s womanly stature and natural chic indeed she had an excellent taste for clothing, hairstyles, and eyeliners. She still looked very youthful with her freckles but often showed a resolute expression. She wore those bumble bee vintage hairstyle that suited her dark red hair or sometimes let her hair undone. She had thin and long legs but herself was not very tall. She wore beautiful vintage and tailored overcoat she made herself, she was a budding seamstress. She made her own Desigual styled dresses with Irish paisleys. Celtic bows, spirals and seashells. 

She used very appropriate textiles and taints often indigo or dark orange. In her bedroom in Edinburgh, she was thinking of Ashley all the time. She did not understand why Malcolm, her father had broken with her. She loved her mother Anne- Sophie very much, however she found that her parents got along better when separated and loved it when they formed a family when her father was with Ashley and her mother with Matthews and their sons, Abby’s brothers. and they met together for picnics, and she would see Ashley she loved very much, the best stepmother she ever had. However, what she felt for Ashley was different that was she felt for her own mother Anne -Sophie who looked mummy like who ten years older than Ashley. Anne-Sophie was blond, maternal and chubby.  

What she felt for Ashley was a fond attachment but more something she would have for an elder sister or a best friend. Sometimes her heart was pounding when she thought of her, it was almost as if she could hear her heart pounding and letting herself going into reveries she might have been in love with Ashley? A little maybe? Ashley, she had been missing for so many years. She had pictured her in her heart, sometimes she had envisioned to be with her when she was sixteen then she had never told her for she knew Ash was her daddy’s girlfriend. Now her dad Malcom and Ashley had split up because Malcom needed time to himself and wanted to see his sons more often. He lived with her daughter Abby and Anne-Sophie and Matthew were two hours from their home. She saw them every weekend, but she did not like Matthew that much, she preferred her dad ten times more, but it was ok she got along with him even though she found him to be a bit of a narcissist. The opposite of her dad, mother, brothers and Ashley. She did not like when Matthew was around, she was afraid he would try to seduce her, and she would fall into the trap only because he was good looking and charming. Anyway, she had never done so, and she never will, she had told herself.    

 

    Ashley was recalling memories of a past which was not so long gone. She thought of the amazing time she had spent with Abby as a child, a beautiful little girl, hers almost. They played together near the lighthouse, these were beautiful days, Abby five years old in her little white dress eating colorful sorbets and laughing but she was not a five-year-old anymore nor a twelve-year-old who enjoyed listening to Britney Spears or watch Tarzan with her at the movies, she had grown up, maybe she did not want her in her life anymore.      

                                                                Chapter 2

 

 

  Abby had been to college and had studied art fashion and design, she worked as a home seamstress who sold clothing by the internet, and it worked quite well. She had kept a few friends from College, Steve Hawthorne Mel McCarthy and Jessica Lam. Steve was still a bit of a spotty guy at twenty and enjoyed watching TV series Abby did not like that much like “Skins” or “Prison breaks”. She liked him all the same had tried a flirt, but it did not work out, she considered Mel and Jessica to be her best friends however the women were so taken by each other they tended to forget her. So, the only thing Abby had been thinking of recently was to find a way to go back to Ashley McNamara.

One evening she took her bike and decided to ride to the Scottish cliffs, far from the city in the wild. In was ten o clock in the morning. She biked near the cliffs and stopped, there was a mop of sand. She could not stop writing Ashley in the sand, she was crying and irrational, she had a decided to let herself fall in love as she would have done so for any friend or girlfriend. Her irrational beliefs were telling have that nobody would have agreed if she had proposed to Ashley certainly not her father and she would better drown her herself. Maybe she a had psychotic break, or maybe she was very much in love with Ashley McNamarra.Then was it acceptable? She was her stepdaughter, could she tell her she had wanted her as her lover? Was it right, was it wrong? She was not able to tell. She felt guilty and in an impulsive act, she was now very near the waters, could decide to swim or to drown. 

Her toes touched the waters she did a magnificent dive. She felt nothing anymore but the foamy waters and could hear the flush of waves. And then she thought very much of Ashley and retraced her path deciding not to drown herself, she swam back to the beach, getting up, soaked to the bones, in tears. Fortunately, she had kept her mobile phone with her in her handbag which she had left on the beach. She called Ashley and told her everything. Ashley promised to pick her up. She arrived twenty minutes later rushed at Abby and took her in her arms, drying her with a towel and put dry clothes on her. She kissed her lips and told her she loved her too. She drove her to her home, cheered her up and made her laugh until evening when Ashley’s father called and told her to go back home with him.