A Polar Bear Called Forth

A Polar Bear Called Forth - Ch 2

Caitlin McGill shut the door behind her, swung her kit bag over her shoulder and walked downhill into a drab and damp Boxing Day. South Queensferry was quiet apart from a solitary car that rattled over the cobbled high street of the town. Ahead, standing in the dark Firth of Forth, like some red skeleton of a great beast from times long past, loomed the rail bridge.

Another Christmas was over, and Caitlin felt that tinge of disappointment she felt every year; all that waiting and excitement for just one day. That thrill of waking up to find her stocking filled, then running into the living room where her gran would be sitting next to her parcels, all laid out over the sofa. Yet, as always, the day passed all too quickly.

This Christmas though, ten-year-old Caitlin noticed a slight change to the traditional routine. For one thing, Mora, their neighbour, had gone to get the presents rather than her gran. And this year Caitlin seemed to find herself in the kitchen a lot more. She did most of the cooking, all the washing up, not to mention making all the cups of tea for her grandparent. Not that she minded. She liked being ten and feeling so grown up. It was just that last year she got so much more time with her gifts.

One good thing about this Christmas though was the young girl's choice of gift for her gran. As ever it had been something of a challenge. She was determined to get something a bit different, something she didn't have. Her elderly relative's drawers were full of scarves, hats and thick socks that she kept receiving. And for what? Gran hadn't been out of their flat for a good few months. It was Caitlin who went shopping or who went into the town. Not so long ago it would have been both of them.

Just by chance, Caitlin had popped into the local charity shop. She wasn't looking for anything in particular. Yet when she saw it, Caitlin knew straight away that it would be the perfect gift for her grandmother. Picking it up, she blew the dust off and bought it for a few pence.

So, on Christmas Day, the granddaughter's smile lit up her face as she watched her gran struggle to tear off the tape and ribbon.

'It didn't cost much,' said Caitlin, as the old lady finally got through the wrapping.

There was no reply. Gran stared at it: a framed black and white photograph of the old ferry crossing the Forth. Her eyes became watery.

'Och, Caitlin, that's lovely. Thank you, darling,' and she placed a kiss on the girl's cheek. 'And it's not the price of something that matters, it's its worth.' She was still staring at it as she spoke. 'I wonder if your Papa's bringing the ferry in?'

'Maybe. It looks like it's from a time when he was working on her,' replied her granddaughter.

For Caitlin, this was the highlight of her Christmas Day. Yes, she had got the mobile phone she wanted (she tipped off Mora) and she'd got a good deal of clothes (again, giving Mora suggestions) which she was happy about. It was her Gran's face though as she stared at the picture that had made her day.

The colourful lights that adorned many of the windows and streets of South Queensferry helped brighten the drab day. Turning off Newhalls Road, Caitlin looked out at the Forth. Its dark chocolate colour was flecked with the odd cream splash of a wave from the breeze. Caitlin felt for it on her face and noted the direction it touched her cheeks and her ears.

She was heading towards the local sailing club, not because there was a meeting on, which there wasn't. That nobody would be there was the very reason she was going.

Since the summer Caitlin had been a member of the club. She'd only gone along to a free invitation event out of curiosity. Yet the young girl had proved to be "a natural," as the club Commodore, Alan Brown had said. Her debut race had seen her take first place. Although the racing was exciting, there was another side to sailing that she liked: the freedom it gave her.