Scottish terms
Ants in your pants – someone who can’t sit still, keeps getting up and down, can’t stay in one place for long. There’s a few of these, but this is the one used when I was growing up.
Greggs – One of the most common chains of bakeries in the UK.
To bang heads together – Usually said to two people who have done something stupid as a pair. I’ll admit I don’t know a lot about this saying, or even why its said. i.e. I’ll bang your two heads together.
Peelie-wally – Pale or ill-looking.
Ha-penny – literally half a penny in old pounds sterling. In use until 1971 when the current decimal pounds sterling (and pence) came in. A shilling is perhaps the more well-known denomination of this old system.
Farthing – another denomination of the old pounds sterling. It was worth a quarter of an old penny.
Script – TW: Stalking
I don’t think I’ll ever win at cards against Chronos, the cat’s an absolute shark. There’s not been anymore outings since the last time, so it’s been a bit cabin fever-esque with all of us stuck in the shop. I don’t think I have to spell it out, but Reid and Fionn’s relationship shows no sign of improving.
Thankfully a customer came in to fight off the boredom for another day. The lassie that came in was more timid than usual, and that’s saying something. She opened the door about halfway, thought better of it, thought better of it again, and then finally pushed the door far enough that the bell went. Even before the door shut behind her, she looked as though she’d made a mistake. Eventually she dragged her eyes from the floor to stare at each of us in turn, the familiar awkward silence stagnant in the air. Fionn was the first to speak, and asked if there was anything we could help her with. As soon as she reached into her handbag I started to move away from the counter and in her direction. By the time she procured the card I’d already told her to follow me up the stairs. Shuffling past Reid and Fionn, giving them a wider berth than I thought was necessary, we ascended the stairs into the front room.
As I was pouring the tea, I kept taking glances at this customer. Now, usually they’re nervous, they look around them in awe, fear, regret, they drink their tea and spill their secrets and problems. This customer was different, and an absolute fidget. My Grannie would’ve said she had ants in her pants. It was so noticeable I was beginning to think that was why she’d come to the shop. The Madam must’ve noticed it too, and after everyone had their tea, the same old question was said. What could we help with? I’ve started thinking about these words a lot. If Madam Norna can essentially hear people’s thoughts when they’re sitting on the sofa, then she must already know what their problem is before they answer. How fed up she must be of asking that every time a customer comes in.
Anyway, this lassie answered that she thought someone was following her. I gave her a peculiar look, my face contorting with the usual confusion. Another customer who appeared to fall in the `should be telling the authorities` category. But I’m not a complete amateur, there’s always something else to these stories.
My boss asked the lassie what had made her think she was being followed. According to her, she saw a particular woman everywhere she went; on the same train during her commute, in the same places she ate lunch, the same shop where she bought groceries, the same gym. Even at weekends, outside of her normal routine, there this woman was. I felt my hairs raise. It’s one of my nightmares, being stalked by someone. You just hear all these horror stories. No wonder the lassie was fidgeting, she was afraid, and I didn’t blame her. It still raised the issue of why she wasn’t reporting all of this to the police. What did she think the Madam could do? Was there a special amulet or candle that repelled stalkers? I expected either one of these things to be the next words out of my boss’s mouth, and was surprised when instead she asked how long it’d been going on for.
With fearful tears welling up in her eyes, the lassie confessed that it’d been 2 months, and that she didn’t know what to do as she was too scared to confront this woman. I waited for the madam to say something. For the first time in a while, I was unsure if I was going to have to head to the cabinet. I couldn’t see how something like the things in there could help, but what do I know?
Madam Norna eventually broke the unsettled silence by saying that before she could help she’d need more information about this woman, and that if it was okay with the lassie, she’d send a few of us to follow her and try to find out more about this stalker. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the lassie. That stalker could be a bloody psycho, and I was just supposed to follow her? I was beginning to wish more and more that this lassie had just gone to the police. The Madam’s final question was to ask if this stalker had followed the lassie to the shop. The answer was a solemn nod.
With instructions to return to the shop in 2 days, the lassie was told to wait downstairs and someone would follow her out. She nodded, but seemed reluctant to leave, as if the front room was the only safe place from this stalker, which I suppose it was. I felt her trepidation, I didn’t want to leave either. Stalking a stalker hadn’t been on my list ae things to do that day.
I reluctantly glanced to my boss, waiting for instructions. Unsurprisingly, she asked Reid and I to follow this lassie, and try to get a look at her stalker. In the hopes I’d get myself off the hook, I asked why we couldn’t just refer it to the police, since it’s meant to be their job. All the Madam said in reply was “all in good time”.
I groaned internally and attempted to plaster something close to agreement on my face, even though I’d rather go to the dentist than do this. I trudged down the stairs with heavy step, informed Reid, who took the news just as well as I had, and waited a few minutes after the lassie left before the both of us followed.
The street wasn’t particularly busy, not that it mattered that much. The brief description the lassie had given us before she’d left was so generic she could’ve been speaking about 90% of the female population. Dark hair and wearing a caramel-coloured jacket. We could just see the lassie up ahead, walking down the street, passed people on phones, in the midst of conversations, or having a quick lunch, but no one that we could see matched that description in front or behind us. Cars went by, lights changed from green to red, the clouds lingered heavily in the sky promising rain later, the air smelled like car fumes, and the occasional waft of baked bread from the millions of Greggs we passed.
It felt like we’d been walking for ages with no one jumping out at us as being around for too long. I just happened to glance across the street, over the rooves of the parked cars, and noticed a caramel-coloured jacket, a woman with dark hair, and when I began to feel my eyes squinting, like I couldn’t quite see her properly, I began to think we’d finally spotted the culprit. I nudged Reid and motioned across the street to the woman. He glanced across, then back at me, back across, and then scoffed derisively. He told me that just because the woman was “one of us” didn’t mean she was the stalker. I assumed he meant she was, like Reid, a fox. He corrected me, saying that the term “us” was what all species that weren’t completely human used to refer to themselves. Well, there’s nothing like a bit of unity. He expanded by saying that it could just be a coincidence that the woman was like Reid. I’m starting to think there’s no such thing as coincidences anymore. Rather than say this I went for the more brutal path, pointing out that I didn’t believe that all of the people like Reid were arseholes like him, and some of them might actually be nice people; I just didn’t think the woman in the caramel coat fell into that category.
He glared his hardest, eyes narrowed, vein in his temple protruding, and then corrected me. He told me that the woman I’d pointed out was actually one of the nice ones. She was a Watcher and were probably the nicest creatures in the world. I’m pretty sure I’ve got my confused face down to a fine art now, and I let the silence linger between us. I don’t understand how he can still assume I know anything about these things.
His glare lessened, replaced by the not nearly as satisfying cocky curve of his lip. I swear he does it on purpose. Reid explained that these Watchers can sense people who’ve done wrong and are cursed to follow them around until it’s been put right. Rather than creatures, like Reid and Fionn, these watchers descend from humans who were cursed. They lived in the murky area between creature and human. My pace began to slow as I digested all of this information. If these people were cursed to follow people around until something had been put right, then how were we supposed to help? More importantly what had the customer done wrong?
My only thoughts turned to the Madam, maybe if we brought this stalker back to the shop she could be helped. I mean my boss had said that all curses could be broken somehow. That was a fine theory, only how did we get a complete stranger to follow us back, especially to someone with a reputation like Madam Norna. Reid and I exchanged an uncharacteristic glance of agreement as we both crossed the road and approached the woman in the caramel coat. Each taking a side, we closed in on the stalker, who looked between us with a fear that was probably deserved. I told her we were from Madam Norna’s shop, and that she needed to go back with us.
Almost instantly her pace quickened, about to bolt away, but Reid caught her arm, his reflexes a lot quicker than mine, and pulled her back. When I looked at him his eyes were a peculiar shade of yellow-green, and rather than round pupils, they had elongated into slits, similar in nature to a feline, or fox. Thankfully his eerie gaze wasn’t fixed on me but the woman, and after she saw the transformation all signs of her sprinting off disappeared.
When we arrived back at the shop Fionn looked between us with what is becoming his typical reaction to our hare-brained schemes. Like he can’t quite decide whether banging our heads together will do more harm than good. The stalker was quick to make as much distance between herself and us as possible, and in an attempt to make it better Reid assures her that we wouldn’t kill her. I was close enough to pinch his arm as hard as I could, which got me a high-pitched growl in return.
Fionn stepped in, as he always does, and asked the woman her name. After a moment’s hesitant pause, she answered that it was Robin. The first person to use this name was Madam Norna as she appeared from up the stairs, telling Robin that she should be more careful as the person she was currently following had visited the shop earlier that morning.
I expected there to be more, but unsurprisingly there wasn’t. Robin, after gaping at the Madam in fearful awe for a few more seconds stuttered out an apology, promising that she’d do better. That’s where I got lost. Do better…following the lassie? Was that really a solution to this problem? I said as much out loud, wondering if there was maybe a way to stop altogether rather than just no get caught doing it.
From her reaction you’d have thought I’d suggested playing chicken on the train tracks. Outraged, she said of course she wasn’t going to stop, the lassie had killed someone and had to pay for that crime. It was too late by the time I opened my mouth to stop it, and I ended up asking why that was her responsibility. Reid, under his breath, asked me if I already forgot what a Watcher was. Admitting, heatedly, that I hadn’t, I pointed out that no one who’s gotten away with murder is suddenly going to admit to it. So, if the customer kept silent then Robin would keep following her, and how would that help anyone?
There was a heavy silence after my question, and I felt bad about saying anything. It’s not like robin could help it if, like Reid had said, she was someone who’d essentially been cursed. No to mention was what she saying about the lassie true? Was she a murderer? Was that why she hadn’t gone to the police about her stalker?
Eventually Madam Norna broke the silence by saying that the lassie who’d come to the shop for help was the cause of her own problem, but that didn’t mean we weren’t going to do something about it. My frustration with the problem was lack of understanding. We only had Robin’s word for it that the customer was a murderer. Yet, her curse dictated that she had to follow those who’d done wrong until they put it right. I couldn’t really appreciate how curses worked, especially ones which controlled your movements and actions. I mean did Robin have a job if she had to relentlessly follow anyone who’d done wrong? How did she have a life outside of that? Did she even have one?
The easiest thing would be breaking the curse, but from what Reid had told me about said curse, if it hadn’t been broken after generations, it was unlikely it would suddenly be broken now. The second thing after that would be getting the lassie to confess. Madam Norna was good at that, I’d seen her do it before. Giving similar instructions to Robin as she had to the customer, she was to return to the shop in 2 days if she wanted help.
Jump to 2 days later, and all four of us are waiting in the shop for the lassie to come in. When she did in a similarly meek and anxious fashion as the first time, I couldn’t help but feel it was an act. This lassie had apparently murdered someone, yet she was going around acting like a ghost was going to jump out at her. Is that what guilt does, do you think? Eat away at your confidence until you feel as though someone’s going to expose your dirty wee secret if you stand too close to them? That the smell of murder is real?
It was difficult to marry the version I saw and the version I’d been told was true. I’ll admit, I was reluctant to have her behind me walking up the stairs. Madam Norna, ever the professional, sat opposite the customer with an expressionless face. It was a struggle to keep mine neutral.
The lassie, with an expected amount of hope, asked if the Madam could help. The answer was a gentle shake of the head. Instantly the lassie moved forwards in her seat, protesting that a friend of hers said that my boss could help. I may have flinched at this outburst…I may have not.
Then Madam Norna asked the question I’d been thinking since the first time the lassie had told us about her problem. Why had she visited the shop instead of the police? What frustration had been settling on her face crumpled, as her eyes darted away. Her answer was that the police would’ve taken ages to get rid of the stalker, if they could’ve at all, and she wanted them gone now.
That was a fair point. What with the limited power of the law on things like this, and the need for proof of harassment, it’d be difficult. But still, if it was bothering her as much as she’d claimed during her first visit, then wouldn’t she be desperate for some official intervention by that point? What exactly did she think the madam could do? Snap her fingers and disappear the stalker?
My boss nodded pensively, slowly, taking her time and letting the atmosphere settle into dreaded anticipation. Eventually she confessed that there was one simple way to solve the problem. The lassie practically jumped out of her seat she was so excited. And then the twist of the knife came when Madam Norna answered that her stalker would disappear if she admitted that she’d pushed her friend down the stairs.
I feel like I need a sound board for these moments just to make them better. It’s not the first time the Madam has come out with these revelations, but it continues to be the highlight of my time in the shop. My boss has a talent for changing the atmosphere in the room, and after her announcement I could feel the chill nip at my fingertips. I’ve never seen anyone’s face go peelie-wally so fast before, not even during a night out after tequila shots.
The lassie could barely speak, a quiet croak at the back of her throat as she tried to form or think of a reply. Madam Norna filled the silence by explaining that if she admitted to her crime then her problem would literally disappear.
The lassie jumped to her feet so quickly it gave me a heart attack, and I edged closer to the Madam. Her face had transformed from ghost white to red with frustration, or embarrassment, or guilt it was hard to tell. I noticed her entire body was shaking, tremors racking up and down her arms and rattling her shoulders.
Through tightly gritted teeth she bit out that she wouldn’t admit to something she didn’t do. I didn’t believe her at this point. I don’t think either of us did, and I began to realise how horrible it must be to be in a place where everyone knows your deepest, darkest secret without you having to open your mouth. She must’ve been as scared of us as I was of her. It’s made me think since, as these cases usually do. How many people do I walk past, in the street, in the club, the bars, the supermarket, who have a dark secret? Who’ve murdered someone, who’ve hurt someone, who’ve done some truly terrible things. How many of these people live normal lives? How many become the victims of something else, like stalking? I know two wrongs don’t make a right. I found it hard to have sympathy for this lassie, but yet again, there’s no innocents in this story.
The lassie’s face began to crack, the blush dying away, as her inner turmoil came to a head. The shaking ceased, and the first words out of her mouth were a “she deserved it” that sent chills up my spine. The lassie claimed that we didn’t understand. Her best friend had stolen her fiancé. What kind of friend would do that? So, she’d pushed her down the stairs. Whether it’d been in the heat of the moment or something planned was never mentioned. Not that it really mattered. I was practically gripping onto the Madam’s leg as this lassie, this murderer, towered over the both of us as she stood, calm as the sea and just as changeable.
I searched her face, the pursed lips, the furrowed brow, even the shadow of tears in the bottom of her eyes, for remorse or guilt. I became more afraid when I didn’t find either. I’ve felt scared of a customer before, nearly been attacked by a water spirit, but this lassie wasn’t a creature. What’d she’d done was to another human. Could the Madam stop her with the same ease as she had the Fideal (Fee-tch-al)?
I barely heard the footsteps on the stairs, and then out the corner of my eye I noticed Fionn lingering in the doorway, shoulders tense, and a stony expression cast on his face. With just the right amount of curtness, Madam Norna instructed him to escort the lassie out of the shop. Huffing that there was no need, she stormed past Fionn, and Reid who was coming up the stairs to see what was going on, and a few seconds later we all heard the violent chime of the bell and slam as the door closed behind her.
With a throat as dry as sandpaper I asked if we shouldn’t call the police now. Reid was the one to answer me, pointing out that it wasn’t like we had any evidence. I hated that he was right. Shaken, I returned to the shop and pretended to busy myself with one thing or the other, unable to get that lassie out of my head.
Murder, death, the police, they all used to be abstract things. They existed in a different part of the world, one that never intersected with mine. Yet now there’d been a few customers who had done bad things, taken someone else’s life. And then they just got on with theirs. Like nothing had happened. I used to think humans were hard wired to feel guilt at hurting someone else, intentional or not. Obviously there’re outliers, occasional psychopaths or sociopaths that do terrible things. But they were few and far between. Now it feels like that wall had thinned. The people I brush shoulders with, that I pass on the street every day, could be murderers. And the scarier thing was that some of them didn’t even care. How could something so small cause you to take another’s life? People get cheated on all the time, I mean it happened to Michelle just last year, and she didn’t turn all homicidal. A part of me wished it was something to do with the shop. A possession by a dark entity, a spirit, a cured object that’d found its way into her possessions, or a curse. I think I’d be able to sleep better if that was the case.
A few hours after the lassie left, Robin came back. Madam Norna was honest, as always, and admitted she thought the lassie would be unlikely to confess to her crimes. Instead, she gave Robin a coin, not dissimilar to one of the ones in the box downstairs full of old ha’pennies, and farthings. The Madam said that when Robin found herself following someone after knowing they’d done wrong, and she didn’t want to, then she could rub the coin between her hands and she’d be free. The curse couldn’t be broken by the Madam, but it could be postponed in certain cases. I expected Robin to be jumping with joy, she’d been given a way out after all of this following people around in the hopes they’d confess their sins. But all she did was nod in understanding, with a look on her face that said she had very little intention of using it.
** If you’ve ever been the victim of stalking, or harassment of this kind, please go the police or the relevant authorities for your country (UK info is at the bottom of this page).
Script – Scots (TW: Stalking, see footnote at the bottom of the page for relevant Scotland/UK information)
I dinnae ‘hink I’ll ever win at cards against Chronos, the cat’s an absolute shark. There’s no been anymore outings since the last time, so it’s been a bit cabin fever esque wi all ae us stuck in the shop. I dinnae ‘hink I have tae spell it oot, but Reid and Fionn’s relationship shows nae sign of improving.
Thankfully a customer came in tae fight aff the boredom fae another day. The lassie that came in was more timid than usual, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. She opened the door aboot halfway, thought better of it, thought better of it again, and then finally pushed the door far enough that the bell went. Even before the door shut behind her she looked as though she’d made a mistake. Eventually she dragged her eyes frae the floor tae stare at each ae us in turn, the familiar awkward silence stagnant in the air. Fionn was the first tae speak, and asked if there was anythin’ we could help her wi’. As soon as she reached intae her handbag I started tae move away frae the counter and in her direction. By the time she procured the card I’d already told her tae follow me up the stairs. Shuffling past Reid and Fionn, geein’ them a wider berth than I thought was necessary, we ascended the stairs intae the front room.
As I was pourin’ the tea I kept takin’ glances at this customer. Noo, usually they’re nervous, they look aroond them in awe, fear, regret, they drink their tea and spill their secrets and problems. This customer was different, and an absolute fidget. Ma Grannie wouldae said she had ants in her pants. It was so noticeable I was beginnin’ tae ‘hink that was why she’d come tae the shop. The Madam mustae noticed it too, and after everyone had their tea the same old question was said. Whit could we help wi? I’ve starteed ‘hinkin aboot these words a lot. If Madam Norna can essentially hear people’s thoughts when they’re sittin’ on the sofa, then she must already know whit their problem is before they answer. How fed up she must be of askin’ that every time a customer comes in.
Anyway, this lassie answered that she thought someone was following her. I gee her a peculiar look, ma face contortin’ wi the usual confusion. Another customer who appeared tae fall in the should be tellin’ the authorities category. But I’m no a complete amateur, there’s always somethin’ else tae these stories.
Ma boss asked the lassie whit had made her ‘hink she was bein’ followed. Accordin’ tae her, she saw a particular woman everywhere she went; on the same train durin’ her commute, in the same places she ate lunch, the same shop where she bought groceries, the same gym. Even at weekends, ootside ae her normal routine, there this woman was. I felt ma hairs raise. It’s one ae ma nightmares, bein stalked by someone. Ye just hear all ae these horror stories. No wonder the lassie was fidgetin’, she was afraid, and I didnae blame her. It still raised the issue ae why she wasnae reportin’ all ae this tae the police. Whit did she ‘hink the Madam could do? Was there a special amulet or candle that repelled stalkers? I expected either one of these ‘hings tae be the next words oot ae ma boss’s mouth, and was surprised when instead she asked how long it’d been going on fae.
Wi’ fearful tears wellin’ up in her eyes, the lassie confessed that it’d been 2 months, and that she didnae know whit tae do as she was too scared tae confront this woman. I waited fae the madam tae say somethin’. Fae the first time in a while I was unsure if I was gonnae have tae head tae the cabinet. I couldnae see how something like the things in there could help, but whit do I know?
Madam Norna eventually broke the unsettled silence by sayin’ that before she could help she’d need more information aboot this woman, and that if it was okay wi’ the lassie, she’d send a few ae us tae follow her and try tae find oot more aboot this stalker. I dinnae know who was more surprised, me or the lassie. That stalker could be a bloody psycho, and I was just supposed tae follow her? I was beginnin’ tae wish more and more that this lassie had just gone tae the police. The Madam’s final question was tae ask if this stalker had followed the lassie tae the shop. The answer was a solemn nod.
Wi’ instructions tae return tae the shop in 2 days, the lassie was told tae wait doonstairs and someone would follow her oot. She nodded, but seemed reluctant tae leave, as if the front room was the only safe place frae this stalker, which I suppose it was. I felt her trepidation, I didnae want tae leave either. Stalking a stalker hadnae been on ma list ae ‘hings tae do that day.
I reluctantly glanced tae ma boss, waitin’ fae instructions. Unsurprisingly she asked Reid and I tae follow this lassie, and try tae get a look at her stalker. In the hopes I’d get ma self aff the hook, I asked why we couldnae just refer it tae the police, since it’s meant tae be their job. All the Madam said in reply was “all in good time”.
I groaned internally, and attempted tae plaster something close tae agreement on ma face, even though I’d rather go tae the dentist than do this. I trudged doon the stairs wi’ heavy step, informed Reid, who took the news just as well as I had, and waited a few minutes after the lassie left before the both ae us followed.
The street wasnae particularly busy, no that it mattered that much. The brief description the lassie had geein’ us before she’d left was so generic she couldae been speakin aboot 90% ae the female population. Dark hair and wearin’ a caramel-coloured jacket. We could just see the lassie up ahead, walkin doon the street, passed people on phones, in the midst ae conversations, or havin’ a quick lunch, but no one that we could see matched that description in front or behind us. Cars went by, lights changed frae green tae red, the clouds lingered heavily in the sky promisin’ rain later, the air smelled like car fumes, and the occasional waft ae baked bread frae the millions ae Greggs we passed.
It felt like we’d been walkin’ fae agees wi no one jumpin’ oot at us as bein aroond fae too long. I just happened tae glance across the street, over the rooves ae the parked cars, and noticed a caramel coloured jacket, a woman wi dark hair, and when I began tae feel ma eyes squintin’, like I couldnae quite see her properly, I began tae ‘hink we’d finally spotted the culprit. I nudged Reid and motioned across the street tae the woman. He glanced across, then back at me, back across, and then scoffed derisively. He told me that just because the woman was “one of us” didnae mean she was the stalker. I assumed he meant she was, like Reid, a fox. He corrected me, sayin’ that the term “us” was whit all species that werenae completely human used tae refer tae themselves. Well, there’s nothin’ like a bit ae unity. He expanded by sayin’ that it could just be a coincidence that the woman was like Reid. I’m startin’ tae ‘hink there’s no such ‘hing as coincidences anymore. Rather than say this I went fae the more brutal path, pointin’ oot that I didnae believe that all ae the people like Reid were arseholes like him, and some ae them might actually be nice people, I just didnae ‘hink the woman in the caramel coat fell intae that category.
He glared his hardest, eyes narrowed, vein in his temple protrudin slightly, and then corrected me. He told me that the woman I’d pointed oot was actually one ae the nice ones. She was a watcher, and were probably the nicest creatures in the world. I’m pretty sure I’ve got ma confused face doon tae a fine art noo, and I let the silence linger between us. I dinnae understand how he can still assume I know anythin’ aboot these ‘hings.
His glare lessened, replaced by the not nearly as satisfying cocky curve ae his lip. I swear he does it on purpose. Reid explained that these watchers can sense people who’ve done wrong and are cursed tae follow them roond until it’s been put right. Rather than creatures, like Reid and Fionn, these watchers descend frae humans who were cursed. They lived in the murky area between creature and human. My pace began tae slow as I digested all ae this information. If these people were cursed tae follow people roond until something had been put right, then how were we supposed tae help? More importantly whit had the customer done wrong?
My only thoughts turned tae the Madam, maybe if we brought this stalker back tae the shop she could be helped. I mean ma boss had said that all curses could be broken somehow. That was a fine theory, only how did we get a complete stranger tae follow us back, especially tae someone wi’ a reputation like Madam Norna. Reid and I exchanged an uncharacteristic glance ae agreement as we both crossed the road and approached the woman in the caramel coat. Each taking a side, we closed in on the stalker, who looked between us wi’ a fear that was probably deserved. I told her we were frae Madam Norna’s shop, and that she needed tae go back wi us.
Almost instantly her pace quickened, aboot tae bolt away, but Reid caught her arm, his reflexes a lot quicker than mine, and pulled her back. When I looked at him his eyes were a peculiar shade ae yellow-green, and rather than round pupils, they had elongated into slits, similar in nature tae a feline, or fox. Thankfully his eerie gaze wasnae fixed on me but the woman, and after she saw the transformation all signs ae her sprintin’ aff disappeared.
When we arrived back at the shop Fionn looked between us wi’ what is becomin’ his typical reaction tae our hare-brained schemes. Like he cannae quite decide whether bangin’ our heids together will do more harm than good. The stalker was quick tae make as much distance between herself and us as possible, and in an attempt tae make it better Reid assures her that we wouldnae kill her. I was close enough tae pinch his arm as hard as I could, which got me a high-pitched growl in return.
Fionn stepped in, as he always does, and asked the woman her name. After a moment’s hesitant pause, she answered that it was Robin. The first person tae use this name was Madam Norna as she appeared frae up the stairs, tellin Robin that she should be more careful as the person she was currently following had visited the shop earlier that morning.
I expected there tae be more, but unsurprisingly there wasnae. Robin, after gaping at the Madam in fearful awe fae a few more seconds stuttered oot an apology, promisin’ that she’d do better. That’s where I got lost. Do better…followin’ the lassie? Was that really a solution tae this problem? I said as much oot loud, wonderin’ if there was maybe a way tae stop altogether rather than just no get caught doin’ it.
Frae her reaction you’d have thought I’d suggested playin’ chicken on the train tracks. Outraged, she said of course she wasnae gonnae stop, the lassie had killed someone and had tae pay fae that crime. It was too late by the time I opened ma mouth tae stop it, and I ended up askin’ why that was her responsibility. Reid, under his breath, asked me if I already forgot whit a watcher was. Admitting, heatedly, that I hadnae, I pointed oot that no one who’s gotten away wi’ murder is suddenly gonnae admit tae it. So if the customer kept silent, then Robin would keep followin’ her, and how would that help anyone?
There was a heavy silence after ma question, and I felt bad aboot sayin’ anythin’. It’s no like robin could help it if, like Reid had said, she was someone who’d essentially been cursed. No tae mention was whit she sayin’ aboot the lassie true? Was she a murderer? Was that why she hadnae gone tae the police aboot her stalker?
Eventually Madam Norna broke the silence by sayin’ that the lassie who’d come tae the shop fae help was the cause ae her own problem, but that didnae mean we werenae gonnae do somethin’ aboot it. Ma frustration wi’ the problem was lack ae understandin’. We only had Robin’s word fae it that the customer was a murderer. Yet, her curse dictated that she had tae follow those who’d done wrong until they put it right. I couldnae really appreciate how curses worked, especially ones which controlled your movements and actions. I mean did Robin have a job if she had tae relentlessly follow anyone who’d done wrong? How did she have a life outside ae that? Did she even have one?
The easiest ‘hing would be breakin’ the curse, but frae whit Reid’d told me aboot said curse, if it hadnae been broken after generations, it was unlikely it would suddenly be broken noo. The second ‘hing after that would be gettin’ the lassie tae confess. Madam Norna was good at that, I’d seen her dae it before. Geein’ similar instructions tae Robin as she had tae the customer, she was tae return tae the shop in 2 days if she wanted help.
Jump tae 2 days later, and all four ae us are waitin’ in the shop fae the lassie tae come in. When she did in a similarly meek and anxious fashion as the first time I couldnae help but feel it was an act. This lassie had apparently murdered someone, yet she was goin aroond actin’ like a ghost was gonnae jump oot at her. Is that what guilt does, do you ‘hink? Eat away at your confidence until ye feel as though someone’s gonnae expose your dirty wee secret if ye stand too close tae them? That the smell ae murder is actually a ‘hing?
It was difficult tae marry the version I saw and the version I’d been told was true. I’ll admit, I was reluctant tae have her behind me walkin’ up the stairs. Madam Norna, ever the professional, sat opposite the customer wi’ an expressionless face. It was a struggle tae keep mine neutral.
The lassie, wi’ an expected amount ae hope, asked if the Madam could help. The answer was a gentle shake of the heid. Instantly the lassie moved forwards in her seat, protesting that a friend ae hers said that ma boss could help. I may have flinched at this outburst, I may have not.
Then Madam Norna asked the question I’d been ‘hinkin since the first time the lassie had told us aboot her problem. Why had she visited the shop instead ae the police? What frustration had been settling on her face crumpled, as her eyes darted away. Her answer was that the police wouldae taken agees tae get rid ae the stalker, if they couldae at all, and she wanted them gone noo.
That was a fair point. What wi’ the limited power ae the law on ‘hings like this, and the need fae proof ae harassment, it’d be difficult. But still, if it was botherin’ her as much as she’d claimed durin’ her first visit, then wouldnae she be desperate fae some official intervention by that point? Whit exactly did she hink the madam could do? Snap her fingers and disappear the stalker?
Ma boss nodded pensively, slowly, takin’ her time and lettin’ the atmosphere settle intae dreaded anticipation. Eventually she confessed that there was one simple way tae solve the problem. The lassie practically jumped oot ae her seat she was so excited. And then the twist ae the knife came when Madam Norna answered that her stalker would disappear if she admitted that she’d pushed her friend doon the stairs.
I feel like I need a sound board fae these moments just tae make them better. It’s no the first time the Madam has come oot wi these revelations, but it continues tae be the highlight ae ma time in the shop. Ma boss has a talent fae changin’ the atmosphere in the room, and after her announcement I could feel the chill nip at ma fingertips. I’ve never seen anyone’s face go peelie wally so fast before, no even durin’ a night oot after tequila shots.
The lassie could barely speak, a quiet croak at the back ae her throat as she tried tae form or think ae a reply. Madam Norna filled the silence by explainin that if she admitted tae her crime then her problem would literally disappear.
The lassie jumped tae her feet so quickly it gee me a heart attack, and I edged closer tae the madam. Her face had transformed frae ghost white tae red wi frustration, or embarrassment, or guilt it was hard tae tell. I noticed her entire body was shakin’, tremors rackin’ up and doon her arms and rattlin’ her shoulders.
Through tightly gritted teeth she bit oot that she wouldnae admit tae somethin’ she didnae do. I didnae believe her at this point. I dinnae ‘hink either ae us did, and I began tae realise how horrible it must be tae be in a place where everyone knows your deepest, darkest secret without you havin’ tae open your mouth. She mustae been as scared ae us as I was ae her. It’s made me ‘hink since, as these cases usually do. How many people do I walk past, in the street, in the club, the bars, the supermarket, who have a dark secret? Who’ve murdered someone, who’ve hurt someone, who’ve done some truly terrible ‘hings. How many ae these people live normal lives? How many become the victims ae somethin’ else, like stalking? I know two wrongs dinnae make a right. I found it hard tae have sympathy fae this lassie, but yet again, there’s no innocents in this story.
The lassie’s face began tae crack, the blush dyin’ away, as her inner turmoil came tae a head. The shakin’ ceased, and the first words oot ae her mouth were a “she deserved it” that sent chills up ma spine. The lassie claimed that we didnae understand. Her best friend had stolen her fiancé. What kind ae friend would do that? So she’d pushed her doon the stairs. Whether it’d been in the heat ae the moment or somethin’ planned was never mentioned. No that it really mattered. I was practically grippin’ ontae the Madam’s leg as this lassie, this murderer, towered over the both ae us as she stood, calm as the sea and just as changeable.
I searched her face, the pursed lips, the furrowed brow, even the shadow ae tears in the bottom ae her eyes, fae remorse or guilt. I became more afraid when I didnae find either. I’ve felt scared ae a customer before, nearly been attacked by a water spirit, but this lassie wasnae a creature. What’d she’d done was tae another human. Could the Madam stop her wi the same ease as she had the Fideal?
I barely heard the footsteps on the stairs, and then oot the corner ae ma eye I noticed Fionn lingering in the doorway, shoulders tense, and a stony expression cast on his face. Wi’ just the right amount ae curtness, Madam Norna instructed him tae escort the lassie oot ae the shop. Huffin’ that there was no need, she stormed past Fionn, and Reid who was comin’ up the stairs tae see whit was goin on, and a few seconds later we all heard the violent chime ae the bell and slam as the door closed behind her.
Wi a throat as dry as sandpaper I asked if we shouldnae call the police noo. Reid was the one tae answer me, pointin’ oot that it wasnae like we had any evidence. I hated that he was right. Shaken, I returned tae the shop and pretended tae busy maself wi’ one ‘hing or the other, no able tae get that lassie oot ae ma heid.
Murder, death, the police, they all used tae be abstract ‘hings. They existed in a different part ae the world, one that never intersected wi mine. Yet noo there’d been a few customers who had done bad ‘hings, taken someone else’s life. And then they just got on wi’ theirs. Like nothin’ had happened. I used tae ‘hink humans were hard wired tae feel guilt at hurtin’ someone else, intentional or no. Obviously there’re outliers, occasional psychopaths or sociopaths that did terrible ‘hings. But they were few and far between. Noo it feels like that wall had thinned. The people I brush shoulders wi, that I pass on the street every day, could be murderers. And the scarier ‘hing was that some ae them didnae even care. How could something’ so small cause you to take another’s life? People get cheated on all the time, I mean it happened tae Michelle just last year, and she didnae turn all homicidal. A part ae me wished it was somethin’ tae do wi the shop. A possession by a dark entity, a spirit, a cured object that’d found its way intae her possessions, or a curse. I ‘hink I’d be able tae sleep better if that was the case.
A few hours after the lassie left, Robin came back. Madam Norna was honest, as always, and admitted she thought the lassie would be unlikely tae confess tae her crimes. Instead, she gee Robin a coin, no dissimilar tae one ae the ones in the box doonstairs full ae old hapennies, and farthings. The Madam said that when Robin found herself followin’ someone after knowin’ they’d done wrong, and she didnae want tae, then she could rub the coin between her hands, and she’d be free. The curse couldnae be broken by the Madam, but it could be postponed in certain cases. I expecteed Robin tae be jumpin’ wi joy, she’d been geein’ a way oot after all ae this followin’ people roond in the hopes they’d confess their sins. But all she did was nod in understandin’, wi a look on her face that said she’d very little intention ae usin’ it.
**If you’ve ever been the victim of stalking, or harassment of this kind, please contact Police Scotland or the UK national stalking helpline.