“That won’t be possible, Thomas.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well Michael is in Galashiels and I’m in Skye sitting in the apartment you rented for yourself wondering where you could possibly be!” He buys time for himself again, not addressing his whereabouts straight away.
“Who is Michael staying with? He’s not been left on his own?”
“Of course he’s not been left on his own! He’s at Amy’s. So I’ll ask again, where are you?”
“I’m just staying with a friend.”
“Would this friend happen to be male or female, Thomas?” My voice falters with that last statement as my mind conjures up a vision of him sitting cozied up with another woman.
He wastes to time in replying to this, “Male of course. I know I’ve lied to you, honey, but I have never been involved with anyone else – EVER!”
He sounds so convincing when he says this and emphasises what he’s saying with such determination that straight away any concerns I had about his fidelity just dissolve instantly. Of course my husband isn’t cheating on me. My Thomas: I feel my heart open. However, this was closely followed by a feeling of concern. What was he up to then? It had to be something to do with his past.
“OK thank goodness for that,” I venture. “Thomas, please just be honest with me, what’s going on? Where are you and why have you come to Skye?” He asks me to fetch a pen and paper and he relays an address to me of where he’s staying. He asks me to drive out there in the morning so we can chat further. I object and say I’ll come out tonight, but he insists I rest up after such a long journey. He seems unperturbed that I am here, and this also gives me some reassurance. Perhaps he will be happy to see me?
The tension I felt when I initially lifted the receiver has dissipated somewhat and I realise I’m able to breathe more freely as though for the past twenty-four hours I’d been holding onto my breath. But I wasn’t unconcerned. There were still lots of questions to be answered. What was he up to and who was he staying with? I reason that (hopefully) all will be revealed tomorrow and with that knowledge on board I take myself off to bed and drift off.
Thomas
Another turn of events! I cannot believe Janey is in Skye and it makes me anxious. How do I explain to her about why I am here and what do I say about George? It sounded as though she was worried I was with another woman, but perhaps that would be an easier tale for her to digest. How do I explain why I’m really here? I can’t very well send her packing; she’s ventured all the way up here. Do I turn to George for assistance or come up with something myself (but the last thing I want to do is lie to her again!)?
Where is George anyway? I haven’t seen him at all today. He simply left a note saying, ‘Gone out; be back later, rest up.’ To be honest I needed today to rest. The car accident has taken its toll and my bones are weary and stiff. The rest has helped the pain in my back, neck, and head all ease up but I feel a dull throbbing starting up in my head again, more likely than not as a result of my call with Janey. I have the night to sleep on it so hopefully I can come up with something credible when I see her tomorrow.
Janey
I wake up feeling refreshed, with a renewed vigour, ready to face whatever I am up against today. The fact I know he is not cheating on me has just opened up something in me. Our relationship can get through this whatever it is. I feel confident of that.
Using the directions Thomas gave me, I make the short journey to where he is staying. I am intrigued. This is beautiful. It looks like a fairly new-build property but it’s evident that lots of careful thought has went into its design as it manages to maintain its new look whilst simultaneously merging perfectly into the landscape. There is a long private driveway which sounds my arrival as the gravel crunches underneath my tyres. On approach I notice a section of decking to the left-hand side of the property and there sits a solitary figure. Instead of making my way to the front door to ring the bell I decide instead to get a closer look at the decking. Even from a distance I can see that it’s Thomas, so I shout over to get his attention and he responds, “Come on in, the front door is open, come out and join me.” He is clearly enjoying the view too much to see me in.
Once inside, there is further reassurance that he is not staying with another woman. The house is beautifully decorated but has a masculine feel to it with black sofa, black and white prints on the walls, and everything is minimalistic. What strikes you straight away, however, is not the décor; it is the view – utterly breath-taking. The bifold doors are expansive and draw the outside inwards. I head towards them and make my way onto the decking. I am unable to acknowledge Thomas’ presence until I have absorbed this view. I take it all in; the sight and smell of the bay directly in front of me with waves gently lapping up. Then, in stark contrast, the jagged mountainous area on the other side of the bay. “Wow,” I hear myself say.
“It certainly is,” a voice to my left pipes up. This snaps me back to reality.
“Thomas!” I join him, sitting in a rocking chair by his side.
“You made it,” he says and leans over to pour me a coffee. He does a good job of trying to mask it, but I saw him wince as he leaned over.
“Thomas, are you OK? You look as though you’re in pain?”
“I’m fine, Janey, honestly, it’s nothing, probably the way I was lying in bed or something.” I let it go.
“This is some place, Thomas. I am intrigued to find out who you are staying with and what is going on.”
We sit for some time in a comfortable silence enjoying the coffee and taking in the spectacular view. Without pressing him, Thomas leads the conversation. “So, apologies again, Janey, for lying to you. I did that with the best of intentions. I had to come up here on my own and didn’t want you worrying so it seemed like the best idea at the time.
Why am I here? It’s complicated and since our phone call last night I’ve wrestled over and over in my mind as to what to tell you. In the end I concluded that the wrong thing to do would be to lie to you anymore so here goes … Someone from my past came back into my life recently. I don’t know if you can remember the night you found me in the freezing cold at the front door in the middle of the night?” I nod in acknowledgement. “Well, there was someone there who I hadn’t seen in years. In fact, he is the owner of this house. He wanted me to come back to Skye because I have unfinished business here. He was also responsible for the postcard.”
I can’t help myself, “This is all very cloak and dagger, Thomas. What do you mean by ‘unfinished business’?”
“To tell you the truth, Janey, I’m not entirely sure myself. It’s hard to explain but something happened here years ago, and I’ve never came to terms with it, and he knows this. When he asked me to come back, I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to. I plan to stay here at his house to get to the bottom of the situation.”
My head was spinning. I had suspected this could all be related to his past but what on earth had happened? What was it all about? It had to be something significant for him to just up and leave and come back up here and all these years later too. I test the waters. “Can you tell me about it? Can you tell me what happened?” I watch him visibly shrink in his seat as though he was retreating into an invisible shell.
“I’m not sure, I haven’t been able to talk about it, ever.”
Before we get a chance to say anything further, we are interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Thomas’ mystery housemate is about to be revealed and I feel a nervous anticipation. He doesn’t stop in the living room; heading instead straight out onto the decking to join us. It is instant recognition. Yes, he has aged but there is no denying who is stood before me – George Traynor. I also see the flicker of recognition across his eyes as he takes me in. Neither of us acknowledge this as we politely shake hands when Thomas introduces us.
CHAPTER 13
January 14th 1998
I
t has been a particularly harsh and unforgiving winter. No
longer have I been able to find solace carrying out duties around the croft because the biting cold and snowstorms have made the simplest of tasks arduous. The animals too also seem to emanate this weariness as they hunt for shelter and hungrily devour any food available.
Life within the confines of the croft has taken a turn for the worse which I didn’t think was possible. Father’s drinking has escalated and with it his behaviour has become more and more erratic. I am living in fight or flight mode, my whole being on high alert ready to do battle and to expect the unexpected. The alcohol is affecting his sleep too because he is keeping the strangest hours now. On a few occasions he has writhed me out of my bed in the middle of the night to help with one thing or another, seemingly oblivious to what time it was.
Mother too is worrying me; her bouts of forgetfulness seem to be increasing and neither mother nor father have acknowledged this. Only the other day she had packed my school lunch and laid it out – on Saturday! I didn’t have the heart to say anything, so I ate the lunch and brought the empty container back through. She didn’t seem to acknowledge the fact I hadn’t left the croft that day to go to school so I couldn’t work out whether she thought I was at school that day or at home.
The alcohol is doing nothing to dampen father’s fury. If anything it’s adding fuel to the fire. He is a walking, talking, ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the drop of a hat and woe betide you if you happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Christmas had been a particularly hard period and I am relieved it’s all over. There was no giving and receiving of gifts, no decorations adorned the croft, and no feast was to be had. It didn’t stop me waking on Christmas morning with the vein hope that perhaps this year things would be different. I tortured myself with the vision of what my school friends’ Christmas Day would look like. The only blessing was that father drank even more than usual (perhaps his way of celebrating?) and drank himself into a stupor where he slept most of the day. My siblings wanted to take advantage of this situation and take off somewhere, but I was unsure. What if he woke up and we weren’t there? However, in the past couple of months this has been happening more and more frequently. He gets a few jobs done around the croft then parks himself in the dining room: bottle of Scotch at the ready. It has happened enough times now for us to get a feel for how long he’ll be ‘out cold.’ So, today, we take a huge decision and leap of faith as we decide to venture when we see he’s shut himself away in the dining room.
Caroline has been the driving force behind our destination of choice. I can barely recall being there but she’s adamant we went years ago on a rare afternoon out. With the only times we leave the croft being to either go to school or accompany mother to the supermarket, this (like my jaunt to Dunvegan Castle) was a treat. It was also extremely risky. We (or should I say Caroline) had decided to go to Neist Point Lighthouse. It was the most westerly point on the island and takes around half an hour to get there by car. We were going by bus, so slightly longer.
We decided to allow two hours all in for the bus trips and a further couple of hours to explore. We will have to say our silent prayers to the gods that he is out long enough to allow us to leave and return un-noticed. We didn’t have to worry about mother, bless her, that was easily remedied. On return if she said anything about our disappearance, we were going to use her forgetfulness to our advantage. Not something I am proud of but feasible none the less. There was no chance she would risk waking him to alert him of our disappearance, so we simply had to cross everything and pray he was out for long enough.
We had been plotting this for some time now; waiting on an opportune moment and intermittently checking his supplies of Scotch to ensure there was enough there. When he plants himself in the dining room he doesn’t leave until he’s emptied the contents of a full bottle. James checked only a couple of days ago and there were three full bottles there, so we decided now was as good a time as any. Juliet was ‘coming along for the ride.’ She had no opinion either way on whether we should stay or go but was happy to come along with us. With father safely ensconced in the dining room, I rustled some food together and packed it in my rucksack and we were off. Mother didn’t see me packing the rucksack, so she was easily appeased when I made the excuse that we were off to check on the cows.
I was only too aware that throughout the day I would have that little voice in my head reminding me not to stay out too long; to get back before he’s aware of our disappearance. But I tried my best to quash this. We were out for the day and had to enjoy it. It wasn’t too difficult because just leaving the grounds of the croft and heading towards the bus stop, I could feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders (a feeling I often experienced on the same walk to the bus stop for the school run). It was a break away; a break from him and we had to enjoy it.
The bus was fairly empty, and we took it all in; the scenery as the bus trundled along and the excited chatter about the afternoon ahead. None of us mentioned anything about father. I saw Caroline and James’ moods noticeably lift as a result of getting away for the day. Caroline in particular was giddy with excitement, eager for us to see Neist Point and at the same time hoping we wouldn’t be disappointed since it was her idea to go there.
As we get off the bus the cold hits us. It’s a biting cold which penetrates through your skin to your bones, and I’m relieved we ate on the bus because I shiver at the thought of removing my gloves to eat. Neist Point, like many of the other tourist attractions on Skye, is normally overrun with tourists but at this time of year there are only a small handful and the odd dog-walker. Only the hardy would venture out in these temperatures! The cold however does nothing to dampen our spirits and we take off along the path with wild abandon at breakneck speed, slowing up only when we hit a particularly icy patch. The aim was to get to the lighthouse and the end of the cliffside as soon as possible to make the most of our time there.
We make it to the lighthouse in no time and sadly the grounds are all locked up, so we are unable to explore but this doesn’t stop our imaginations running wild. James happily regales us with ghost stories and it’s very apt. In the cold dusky winter afternoon, the last of the light beginning to disappear over the headland, and with hardly anyone else in sight, the whole place has an eerie quality. Until recently, the Lighthouse cottages were let out to tourists and James asks us to look at the window of one of the cottages where the face of a little girl can be seen. We look over and of course there’s nothing there but he’s an excellent storyteller and we imagine seeing her peering out anyway. It’s enough for us to pick up the pace; not wanting us to stay a minute longer; fearful she might just come to life.
We head all the way to the tip of Neist Point and pause to take it all in. The view is panoramic and jaw-droppingly spectacular. You look out over Moonen Bay to Waterstein Head and out over the Minch to the Western Isles. The point is often regarded as the best place on Skye to see whales, dolphins, porpoises, and basking sharks. It is normally teeming with various species of sea birds but not at this time of year. Like the rest of Neist Point, it is eerily quiet at the tip because all the nesting birds will have migrated when the cold weather hit. The only noise to be heard is the wind as it whistles and cuts past us, causing the waves below to crash up against the cliff edge. It is a warning sign, and we take a step back.
James suggests we get a closer look at the waves below, so we take to the ground and lie flat peering out over the edge. It is captivating. This is mother nature in all her glory. The wind picks up and causes a swell in the waters below. As a result, the ensuing waves crash with such a force when they make impact, we can no longer hear ourselves speak. We are left to our own thoughts and a horrific image comes to me.
Father is stood at this very spot holding mother by the neck in front of him in a vice-like grip. He gives her an almighty shove and her fragile body tumbles to the depths, making contact with fragments of rock on the way down, bouncing limply from each like a broken rag doll. The waves suck her
under, but I see her glassy lifeless eyes staring up at me before she’s gone.
“Thomas, THOMAS; get up – QUICK!” Juliet’s shrill voice penetrates the noise of the wind and waves. It takes several moments for me to process what all the commotion is about. The wind speed and force has picked up again and it’s now very dangerous. We can’t stay a minute longer. I push myself up and realise to my horror mother nature has other ideas, she pushes me back down again. There is a large boulder to my left, so I motion to everyone to grab a hold. We crawl over, hunker down, grab on tightly, and hope for the best.
Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long for things to die down and we don’t hang about, running towards safety away from the cliff-face. “Whoa; what a ride!” James is clearly enjoying himself; not one to shy away from danger; this was right up his street. “Is everyone OK?” a concerned Juliet pipes up. Caroline is noticeably quiet, and I probe her.
She breaks down instantly; “I’m so sorry. I know how much it meant for us to get away for the day and I nearly got us all killed in the process. It was a stupid idea to come out here at this time of year.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” I reply. “You weren’t to know it was going to get so wild; you’re not responsible for the weather.”
“I guess, but we shouldn’t have been so close to the edge! We were lucky to get out of there in one piece.”
IT’S TIME Page 11