Storm Over Rhanna

by Christine Marion Fraser

  But such things were of small import to the young strangers from the south, enough it was that Ranald did everything but touch his forelock whilst in their company, his cap respectfully held in his hands, his, ‘Ay, Mr Smellie, I’ll see to that,’ or his, ‘Ach no, Mr Saunders, ’tis no bother at all,’ sufficing to keep them jubilant of spirit and easy of mind.

  And so they remained, right up to the day the yacht was ready to go back into the water. Arriving at the shed, they found the double doors locked and barred with no sign of life anywhere until Ranald appeared from his cottage, an amiable enough expression on his face but an odd little gleam lighting his eyes.

  ‘Well now, ’tis yourselves, lads,’ he greeted the pair pleasantly, ‘all ready for the road at last.’

  ‘That’s right, Ranald.’ Daniel spoke a trifle impatiently as, now that the hour of departure was close, he was eager to be off while the forecast for the next few days was good. ‘Unlock the doors and let us in, like a good chap.’

  Ranald assumed a thoughtful air. ‘Ach well, that I will do just as soon as we have settled on a fair figure for the use o’ my shed and of course, wear and tear o’ my equipment. The lads will be expectin’ their money before you go and will want cash in hand seeing it’s an awful trachle gettin’ cheques cashed when you don’t have the benefit o’ a bank account. They will be lookin’ for a wee bittie extra for the salvage work as so indeed will I, since I gave them a hand to fetch it in as well as the use o’ my boats . . .’

  ‘Salvage work!’ Steven’s howl of disbelief sent the gulls on the quayside flapping into the sky. ‘What salvage work? There was no mention of that nor was there any talk of paying you for all these other things you mentioned!’

  Ranald managed to look suitably humble. ‘Ach well, Mr Saunders, it’s no’ nice to discuss things like these wi’ visitors. We find it very embarrassing on the islands and know well enough it is only a matter o’ honour that makes folks pay their debts wi’ a good grace—’

  ‘You’re a bloody rogue, Ranald McTavish!’ interposed Daniel, his face livid. ‘You’re either a damned clever actor or the biggest cheat that ever lived, for you gave no indication of any of this when you offered us the use of your premises.’

  Ranald looked hurt. ‘Mr Smellie, these is no’ nice things you are saying, you should be ashamed o’ yourself just. We might no’ go swankin’ about wi’ our hands stretched out for sillar but we are no’ the simple cratur’s you seem to think, nor are we money grubbers either, just honest, hard-workin’ lads who have to earn their bread and butter like anybody else. Of course, if you are too mean to pay up for a good job well done I will be forced to hold your boat as collateral till you are in a better frame o’ mind—’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ burst out Steven. ‘Tell us how much you want and be done with it.’

  ‘If you will just step into my cottage, I have the accounts prepared ready . . .’

  ‘But I’m damned if you’re getting salvage money,’ growled Steven. ‘There was nothing to salvage that I know of.’

  Ranald, coming back outside with a sheaf of papers in his hand, stopped in his tracks. ‘Mr Saunders! Me and the lads near drowned ourselves fishin’ bits o’ your boat from the sea – and if you don’t believe me you can ask them yourselves for they will be here in a wee whilie to collect their wages. Where do you think we got all the bits and pieces to get the Mermaid back into her original condition?’

  ‘From your junk heap?’ suggested Daniel sarcastically.

  Ranald cocked his head. ‘Mr Smellie, that’s no’ in very good taste, and from a lad o’ your upbringing too—’

  ‘Never mind all that,’ broke in Steven rudely, ‘you’ll get paid for everything else but no salvage money.’

  ‘Och well, have it your own way, son,’ Ranald spoke equably, ‘no money, no boat, but I’m no’ quite understanding your reluctance on the matter. Surely your insurance will cover all these sundries?’

  ‘The sum has already been settled,’ clipped Daniel.

  ‘Ach, that’s too bad, but neither o’ you are short o’ a bob or two and if you’re wise you’ll pay up – you see, lads,’ he grinned at them good-humouredly, ‘every extra hour the Mermaid spends in my shed will add to the final bill. I have lost out havin’ her in there all these months through havin’ to turn away a wheen o’ business. I wasny for tellin’ you as I’m no’ the sort o’ man to rush a good job.’

  ‘Show us your accounts,’ ordered Steven brusquely, ‘though I warn you now, if it’s ready money you’re after it will take a few days for it to come through.’

  Ranald simply could not resist rubbing his hands together. ‘I’m in no hurry, son, though of course it means I will lose more business wi’ my shed out o’ commission. I’m surprised mind, that modern young folks like yourselves could be so lax on such important matters. The weather might no’ hold for one thing and for another it is an easy enough matter to pick up the tellyphone and ask for the money to be sent right away. Your parents will surely no’ grudge a wee favour to a pair o’ fine lads like yourselves.’

  Steven’s jaw tightened, Daniel’s dark face was like a thundercloud and when he spoke it was through clenched teeth. ‘I’ve travelled to all parts of the world but I think I can honestly say I’ve never yet met anyone as crafty as you are. You’re wasting your time here, McTavish, you would make a fortune in the underworld and bankrupt everyone in the process.’

  Snatching the accounts from Ranald’s hand, he hurried away in the direction of the Post Office, Steven hot on his heels.

  A few minutes later ‘the workforce’ arrived at Ranald’s house to look questioningly into his sunburned countenance. He nodded and winked, a jubilant cheer went up and Ranald, once more rubbing his hands briskly together, bade them inside for ‘a wee celebration dram’.

  Glasses in hand, they arranged themselves at various vantage points near the windows so that they could comfortably watch Daniel and Steven ‘rushin’ around gettin’ the money’.

  It arrived by registered post the next day. Ranald received his share with many pleasurable nods and smiles, but before he turned away he tucked some notes into Steven’s shirt pocket. ‘There you are, son, you gave me three pounds too much and I wouldny like you to think I was the sort o’ man to cheat on another.’ And he meant it, too, as he stood there amiably nodding and smiling, looking from one astonished face to the other with utmost sincerity.

  ‘Ay, well, I’ll be getting along now,’ he beamed, giving Steven’s pocket an affectionate pat before ambling unhurriedly away leaving the young men looking after him and wondering if he was as devious as they imagined, or as he himself had said, ‘just an honest hard-workin’ lad earning his bread and butter like everyone else’.

  The very next morning the Mermaid left the sheltered anchorage of Portcull Harbour and headed out into the Sound, cheered and waved on by Ranald and his mates and a small crowd who had gathered to watch proceedings, not interested so much in the actual departure as because Megan was accompanying the men south for a long holiday. She had left Lachlan to take care of things till she got back, ‘Though I don’t know when that will be, Lachlan,’ she had told him. ‘I – I might never come back. I feel as if I’ve never been accepted here and have to get away to see it all in perspective. At the moment I can’t do that, I’m too close and too jaded to be able to think clearly. I’ll let you know one way or the other and make arrangements accordingly. I want you to feel free to use my car while I’m gone – at least it starts without any trouble,’ she made an attempt at humour, ‘Angus fixed it so well I’ve a feeling it will still be around long after I’m gone.’

  He had taken her hands to squeeze them and study her face with concern. She did look tired. There were purple smudges under her eyes and a weary droop about her mouth. ‘You’re no’ running away, are you, Megan?’

  Her head jerked up. ‘No – of course not – och to hell! Maybe I am – maybe I have to for a while.’

  ‘Ju
st so long as it’s no’ a case of out of the frying pan. Don’t do anything foolish, lass, I trust you and I know you won’t let me down. When I nominated you to fill my place I didn’t single you out for your looks you know, bonny as you may be, I chose you because I thought you were the best person for the job and still believe it.’

  She had smiled at him uncertainly and kissed him on the cheek before saying her farewells to Phebie and Babbie, who had been in the kitchen partaking of a strupak.

  ‘No doubt you’ll be glad to get rid of me,’ Megan had teased, smiling at Babbie with real affection, ‘you and Lachlan will be able to work together like in the old days.’

  ‘Ay, I will enjoy working wi’ Lachlan again,’ Babbie admitted frankly, ‘but odd as it may seem I’ll miss you around the place – after all,’ she giggled, ‘I canny very well have the cosy wee discussions wi’ him that I had wi’ you – like my preference for cotton knickers or how my bra size has gone up an inch since the start o’ summer . . .’

  ‘Ach, Lachy wouldny bat an eye if you said these things to him,’ interposed Phebie mischievously, ‘he’s used to knicker talk for when Fiona and me get together it’s all about clothes and underwear and – when she was younger – about pubic hair and breast development.’

  The had all laughed at that, and had sat down cosily together to drink tea and be as lighthearted as possible. But it had been a different story when she had gone along to Mo Dhachaid to say her farewells to Shona, who had said she would take Muff for as long as need be. It hurt Megan badly to have to part with the little dog she had grown to love, and quite a tearful parting ensued before Shona led Muff out of the room to play with Sporran and the children in the garden.

  ‘Megan,’ Shona, coming back to the kitchen, looked at the doctor in her direct way, ‘you’re making a terrible mistake going off wi’ Steven and I hope to heaven you see sense before it’s too late for everyone concerned . . .’

  ‘Who said anything about going off with Steven?’ Megan interrupted sharply.

  ‘Och, stop that, Megan,’ Shona returned with equal asperity, ‘of course you’re going off wi’ him! The whole island knows even if you don’t. I’m disappointed in you, I really thought you had more guts – that you would stay and sort things out between you and the man you really love.’

  ‘You really do take too much on yourself, Shona,’ Megan was unable to stop her temper rising, ‘what I do with my life is my business and it’s high time you, and a few others, got that into your thick heads. How the hell can you possibly know who I love and who I don’t? You’re as bad as all the other gossips and I’ll be glad to shake the dust of this place off my heels, if only to be rid of small minds.’

  ‘Ach, go ahead and drown yourself for all I care!’ Shona lost her own volatile temper at that point. ‘You’ll never grow up, will you? Aye the eternal schoolgirl, blushing and hiding and waiting for your white knight to come along. It’s no’ you I’m thinking of anyway, it’s Mark. He’s made such a fool o’ himself over you, he’s only half the man he once was and is ill because o’ you and your foolish carrying on right in front o’ his nose, where he can see you and be sick at the sight o’ you and your precious sailor boy!’

  ‘That’s it! You’ve gone too far, Shona McLachlan! The way you go on about Mark anyone would think you were in love with him yourself!’

  Shona’s anger subsided, her beautiful blue eyes caught and held the other woman’s blazing stare. ‘I was – once – just a little bit,’ she admitted softly, ‘he saved my sanity when no one else could do anything for me. He’s a very special person to me, Megan, and some small part o’ me will always cherish him. Don’t get me wrong, Niall is my life, and has been from the start, but Mark will never cease to be dear to me and I just canny stand by and watch him pining away without feeling that something inside o’ me is withering away also.’

  ‘Oh, Shona,’ tears shone in Megan’s hazel eyes, ‘I’m sorry I was so angry just now, it’s just – I’m so confused I don’t really know what to do, where I’m going, all I know is I have to get away to think it all out. Mark has been hurt very badly by all this and I feel it’s all my fault. He fought Steve to protect me but it hasn’t made things any better for any of us, Steve feels very bitter towards Mark so the sooner we go away the better.’

  ‘You’ll write and let me know how you are?’ Shona said softly.

  ‘Yes, of course I will, take good care of Muff, won’t you?’ Turning on her heel she walked away, a mist of tears in her eyes and an odd, unexplained lump in her throat.

  Now she was aboard the Mermaid, standing at the rails watching Rhanna slip away, alone as she wanted to be in those poignant moments – then Steven came up to stand beside her and the moment was over – too soon, far too soon for a young woman who had all at once realized how dear and sweet one small island had become to her. She took one last, lingering look back. Rhanna was far away now, a dazzling opal in a blue velvet sea – she saw the pale column of the lighthouse, and – was it a trick of the light or just pure fancy? Or was that really a spiral of smoke rising into the sky, beckoning, beckoning from the tall chimneys of the Manse atop the Hillock . . .?

  Two people, who hadn’t been down at the harbour to watch the Mermaid sailing away, saw her nevertheless. On the lower slopes of Sgurr nan Ruadh a fair-haired girl sat amongst the wild flowers, hugging her knees and shading her eyes as she gazed out to sea, watching the yacht till she was just a speck in the distance.

  ‘God go wi’ you, Dan,’ she whispered. Her head sank onto her knees, her wash of fine, silken hair cascaded over her face.

  ‘He’ll love you and leave you, lassie, don’t waste your tears on him.’ How right her mother had been. He had loved her and left her, apologetically, his dark eyes serious, his farewell kisses warm but brief, telling her he wouldn’t be back even while he promised he would – some day. She wanted to believe it, to bolster herself up with false hopes that would allow her better to thole the empty days ahead. But she was far too sensible for that. Her father might have been easy-going but he had been level-headed too, and his daughter had inherited that trait in double measure.

  Eve sighed and stood up, her vision now trained on her mother’s house sitting snug in the green fields below. She was a good mother, one who had always trusted her children to do what was right – but grief had taken its toll and she was a bit more edgy these days. Eve wondered how she would react when she discovered that one of her children had broken the trust she had always taken for granted – before, before a young man had come to the island out of a storm to wreak havoc in the heart of a girl who had never known what love was about till he had come into her life – and out of it just as swiftly.

  On the silver white sands of Burg Bay a lone figure stood staring out to sea, his hand up to his eyes to shade them against the glare. The Mermaid was a good way off now, her white sails dazzling in a sun that shone and sparkled and turned the Sound of Rhanna into a vast silver lake. Megan hadn’t said goodbye and he knew she hadn’t forgiven him for that dreadful incident in Glen Fallan, the thought of which still made him cringe in shame and embarrassment.

  No wonder she despised him, he had made such a fool of himself it had taken every ounce of courage he possessed to go out among people again, and – hardest of all – to climb into the pulpit and face his congregation. He had thought that people might stay away, that the kirk would be empty of all those staunch kirkgoers whose faces he looked down upon, week after week. But he had been wrong, it was more crowded than it had ever been before – panic seized him at that point. Had they come to ogle a minister so lacking in self-control he had lifted his hand to another man on the Sabbath? Or worse. Had they come to point the finger of scorn? To condemn and whisper and wonder among themselves, how long he could go on preaching about good and evil?

  All his conjectures soon proved to be wrong. Everyone had been kind to him. There hadn’t been as much as a single disapproving glance from Elspeth or a murmur of reproval
from anybody else. They came to the Manse to visit him, and not one referred to his fight with Steven Saunders. Even old Behag had come sprachling along, bearing gifts of homemade tablet and a pair of hand-knitted socks to keep his ‘feets’ from getting cold in church. Yet nothing served to make him feel any less guilty and he decided that it might, after all, have been better if the affair had been brought into the open. The airing of it might have helped to reduce its enormity in his mind; as it was, it grew and grew out of all proportion till he felt he would go mad with his whirling thoughts.

  The Mermaid was now just a speck on the horizon but still he stared at her till his eyes ached and he could see her no more. Mutt came bounding towards him, smiling, his tongue flying wetly from his mouth, his great hairy feet churning up the sands, leaving a trail that zigzagged all over the bay. His was a simple, wholesome joy that never failed to find an echo in Mark’s heart. Bending down, he hugged the dog to him. ‘You know, Mutt, I think I might take John Grey up on his offer to look after things. There’s nothing here to keep me any longer. You and I could go to Perthshire in the autumn. It’s beautiful there then with the woods and hills ablaze with colour and lots of rabbits for you to chase.’

  Mutt barked, as if in full approval of the idea, and they set off to climb the cliff path together. At the top Mark kept his eyes averted from Tigh na Cladach, lonely looking already, drawn and shuttered to the world. His steps quickened as he passed by, but Mutt had other ideas. He bounded to the gate, looking hopefully back over his shoulder to see if his master followed.

  ‘Come away, boy,’ Mark didn’t turn round, ‘Muff isn’t there, they’ve all gone, all gone away.’

  Mutt’s tail drooped, he gave a mournful little whimper. Mark stopped in his tracks and looked at his dog standing so dejectedly beside the gate. ‘Well, I’ll be . . .’ He called the dog to him. He came, slinking, unwilling, hardly able to muster a twitch of his tail when Mark caught his ruff and knelt down to look into his sad brown eyes. ‘You’ve lost your lady love too, haven’t you, boy? I never realized – I should have known but I was too wrapped up in myself. We’re in the same boat, you and I, and we’ll have to comfort one another as best we can.’