Heidi Edmundson - Issue 34

Heidi Edmundson is originally from Portrush As a child she loved telling stories and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up.

She studied medicine at Dundee University and currently works as an Emergency Consultant in London. She also spent one summer trying to be a stand up comedian. Both things have equipped to performing in front of a hostile audience.

She has had two books published. One , a crime novel called Darkness in the City of Light, is a classic Whodunnit set in a fantastical city where someone is killing mermaids. The other Belly Full is a narrative non – fiction and follows her through 2022. It covers many themes including illness, denial, body image , the collapse of the NHS, healing, hope and Zumba. It ends up in Portrush and celebrates the magnificence and power of the beach. Heidi gave readings from this book as part of the Swell Festival in Portrush, 2025.

Her third book Flight of Fancy, the sequel to Darkness in the City of Light is due to be published next year.

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Best Served Cold

“They’ve done the place up nicely” I said to the woman with the big glasses.   

 “Shame about the weather though.” she replied.   

“Who is that “I whispered to Jodie as big glasses wandered off..   

Jodie shrugged “Absolutely ,no idea.”   

I thought I’d finished with the North Coast but here I was back again. Note to self, if you didn’t like something the first time round you’re probably not going to enjoy the reunion.     

I scanned the room and noticed Catherine Ferguson. I felt a surge of hatred and humiliation. I had to remind myself that I was no longer at primary school waiting to see if she would or wouldn’t pick me for rounders. I couldn’t throw to save my life, still can’t. Nor was I at high school hearing her and her friends snigger about my hair or some other aspect of my appearance.     

 “I’m going to mingle “I said.    

Though with whom, I had no idea.   

I went out into the foyer. That’s when I saw him. He was standing in the queue for the cloakroom, holding a green tweed jacket. I went and stood behind him. I didn’t have a coat to check in. All I had was a cardigan /cape like thing. It served no purpose other than to cover my arms. I took it off to look like I was waiting too.   

The girl in the cloakroom had short blue hair and a nose ring. She didn’t look very enthusiastic. She was moving so slowly it was practically slow motion.   

 I stood there studying Andy Fraser’s back, not quite believing, that maybe, just maybe I  was about to get the answer to a question that had haunted me for more than half my life. A mystery greater to me than all the great mysteries in the world, like what happened to the Marie Celeste and do aliens really exist.   

School had just finished for the summer and Andy Fraser and I were on a date in the Harbour Bar. I was wearing my new jeans and felt funny and pretty and hopeful. Everything was going well and then he said   

“Keep an eye on my drink for a minute , will you, I’m off to buy some cigarettes.”   

 And that was it, I never saw him again. I spent the rest of the evening just sitting there, watching his lager go flat whilst the bar staff shot me pitying looks. Then someone called last orders, and I had to go home. It was beyond humiliating. It ruined that whole summer. My last summer at home before I went to university. But worse than that  I lost something that night, something more than Andy Fraser, something that I never got back. It was as if a spark inside me had been extinguished, never to be re-lit.    

He was at the front of the queue now. He handed over the green jacket to Blue Hair and turned so that we were facing each other. For a moment neither of us spoke and then I broke the silence.   

“Hello, Andy “   

He looked down at me, an undecipherable expression on his face. Then he smiled.   

“They have done the place up nicely haven’t they” he said.   

And all I could reply was “ Yes, shame about the weather.”    

And that was it, the bastard, the fucking bastard didn’t even know who I was. I had been carrying him around in my head for all these years and he didn’t even remember me.   

Blue Hair was looking at me. I handed over my cardigan / cape thing. I felt as exposed as my upper arms but there was no way I was going to let her think that I had been standing in that queue for any other reason other than to check in a garment. I had suffered enough humiliation at the hands of Andy Fraser.   

I was standing outside when Jodie appeared.    

“I’ve had enough” she said.    

“I had enough the first-time round.”    

“And “ she went on “all the cool people are leaving.”    

“Jodie, we were never the cool people.”  

At that moment a taxi pulled up but typically its light was off. We were about to go inside when the driver called out the window,   

“Catherine, Catherine Ferguson”     

Beside me I was aware of Jodie opening her mouth but before she could speak, I pushed past her.   

“Yes” I said” yes that’s us.”    

I pushed Jodie towards the taxi when I remembered my cardigan /cape thing. I thought about abandoning it, but it was expensive and came in very handy  when I wanted to wear something sleeveless.   

“I’ll be back in a minute”  I said and hurried into the foyer. 

The cloakroom was deserted. Where on earth was Blue Hair. Time was of the essence. I didn’t want Catherine arriving and catch us taking her taxi.    

Even more frustratingly I could see my cardigan/ cape thing hanging there, just out of reach. I tried the door, it was open. All I had to do was go inside and get it.  My heart was pounding as I let myself in. I felt like I was committing a crime. You can’t steal what’s already yours, can you? And then I saw it, on the next hanger, a green , tweed, jacket. 

They say most of your life is just spent waiting in the wings. But every now and then life throws you your cue to step out of the shadows and take the stage. But you better be ready or you will miss your chance and  the whole drama will move on without you.

And you’ll be left behind , a mere spectator. 

I grabbed the jacket and started to walk briskly across the foyer. Not so fast as I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. My nerve failed me when I got to the door, and I started to run, not even slowing to enter the taxi, slamming the door behind me, making the driver wince.  

 “Drive “I shouted “drive, drive it like you stole it.”   

“You haven't told me where you want to go yet love, "said the driver.   

“Portrush” I replied, “the Harbour Bar.”   

   Then we were off, twisting and turning along the coast road. Out to the right it was all wide open sky and sea. Ahead of us were the lights of Portrush. And behind us, well behind us was the past.   

When I was younger, I had always thought that this road belonged somewhere else, somewhere different, somewhere more exciting, more glamorous, Monte Carlo perhaps. I had imagined myself as Grace Kelly in ‘to Catch a Thief’ and now I was.  I wound down the window so that I could feel the wind in my hair. It was exhilarating.   

“You’re not going to be sick are you,” said the driver “because if you are, there’s a fine.”   

“Whose jacket is that “said Jodie as we got out of the taxi.   

“Andy Fraser’s”    

She looked at me as if she didn’t know me anymore. Or maybe it was me that didn’t know me anymore.   

I walked over, right to the edge and looked down. This was the exact spot I had stood at all those years ago , crying , still looking, still hoping that Andy Fraser would come back.   

I screwed the jacket into a ball and hurled it into the harbour.  It didn’t go that far but as we’ve established, I’m not very good at throwing. Anyway, I didn’t need to be, I wasn’t playing rounders now, was I. It was in the water and that’s all that mattered. I stood there watching it sink, slipping out of view, as it  disappeared into the darkness. 

I wanted to say something profound, but Jodie interrupted my train of thought.   

“You’ve thrown Andy Fraser’s Jacket into the harbour; INTO THE HARBOUR. “   

“Yes” Jodie I said “ that’s exactly what I’ve done. Now come on, let’s go and get a drink.”   

I felt that the new, taxi rustling, jacket thieving me should order something like whisky, but I don’t really like the stuff.    

“A glass of rose please “I said to the barman “but put some ice cubes in it, revenge is a drink best served cold.”   

I thought I’d finished with the North Coast but maybe the North Coast hadn’t finished with me. But that’s life, I suppose, you’re never really done with it, and it’s never really done with you.