IT’S TIME

by Rachael Dytor

  I let him take off out the door. I let him think I am going to remain here patiently waiting on his return – with Caroline in tow. But I have other plans, I’m going after him to find out what he’s up to. He is off in search of her and when he finds her, I asked him to bring her back to the croft for a little showdown. He has pushed me to breaking point this time. I shudder as I imagine how much worse my injuries could have been. The storm was so intense, it was impossible to tell whether that damn snowblower had been turned off or not but why did I leave it to chance? Perhaps I’m starting to lose my touch? No! I dismiss that thought straight away before it takes root. Why did I trust that snivelling pathetic excuse of a son of mine? And he keeps blaming Caroline for his mishaps. He needs that knocked right out of him!

  Turns out Mary is good for something after all! She has made a decent job of patching my thumb up. No point in going to the hospital now, there’s nothing they could do for it. I am not giving the bitch credit though, don’t want the glory going straight to her stupid little head now, do we? That’s the last thing we need right now, her getting too big for her boots! I say nothing to her, she might as well be invisible. I don all the winter woollens and head outside.

  The storm is fierce, and I curse him again. I should be tucked up indoors right now getting cosy and steadily merrier. But instead, I am out here braving the elements, breathing quickly and shallowly as my thumb throbs painfully all the while. Where is he? Where the fuck is he? I scan the surroundings, but he is nowhere to be seen. I continue down the path towards the barn but, nothing. I reach the barn itself and peer in but again, nothing. “Thomas, THOMAS!” Hopeless and futile. There’s no way he’d hear me over the noise of the wind. What was he doing out here in this? Exactly where does he expect to find her?

  I spend the next short while pacing around the perimeter of the croft, but he is nowhere to be seen. What is he playing at? Well, he has certainly succeeded in one thing – making me more pissed off! Wait until I get my hands on him! If there’s one thing I will not tolerate, it’s disobedience. I gave him a direct order to get back to the croft and now he is A.W.O.L.

  With no other option, I head back indoors to see if the delectable Mary can shed any light on his whereabouts. The two of them are always conspiring, she’s bound to know what he’s up to. Isn’t it funny how the sight of someone can make you feel physically sick? Well, that’s how I feel every time I see the wench. No wonder I’ve been drinking more these days when that’s what is waiting for me at the end of a hard day’s work. Nice little touch too dearest, feigning concern when I came in earlier dripping blood. You almost pulled it off too but we both know that was purely to save your own skin. I imagine you were blissful inside, glowing at the thought of me getting injured. Well, I can soon knock that out of you too and make no mistake.

  Rather than address her by name, I choose to slam my (uninjured) fist down in front of her; a good way to get her attention and scare her witless at the same time. That is how I like to keep her – teetering on the edge. Expect the unexpected, Mary, that is just how I roll. It wouldn’t do to have you too comfortable and at ease for any length of time now, would it? Where’s the fun in that?

  “Where is he then?” She stutters a response and it makes her seem even more pathetic, adding fuel to the fire of rage I can feel smouldering away in the pit of my stomach.

  “I … I … d-don’t know, Sir.”

  “Like hell you don’t! You and I both know you two are as thick as thieves so out with it; spit it out, woman!”

  “Honestly, I don’t know!”

  “OK, I’m a patient man, let’s look at it from a different angle then, shall we? He’s gone to fetch Caroline, so enlighten me, where would the wonderful Caroline be, pray tell?”

  There is a lengthy pause before she answers, this had better be good. “I’m sorry, I honestly can’t think.” She is lying to me; it is blatantly obvious. Something inside of me snaps. No more Mr Nice Guy. I’m on top of her in a flash, the weight of my body pinning her down. There is no way she can break free. She doesn’t even resist; she knows that would be pointless.

  I position my forearm across her throat, pressing my upper body weight down onto her, restricting her airways. “Maybe this will help jog your memory, Mary!” She makes a few involuntary choking noises but doesn’t try to speak. “Aah, I’m being too lenient with you, am I? Well, we can easily fix that!” I bear all my weight down onto her and watch fascinated as the veins bulge in her neck and her face swells up, turning a lovely shade of purple. But hey presto, it has done the trick – she waves her arms, flailing them about – and reading the expression on her face, she has something to say so I back off slightly.

  It takes a while for her to gather herself and I am all ears. She looks as though she’s ready to speak. “Well, spit it out then!” But nothing! She genuinely looked as though she was going to speak but thought better of it. “Oh, you need a little more coaxing, do you? Not a problem.” This time I go in for the kill, pressing my full weight on top of her with force. She makes some strange noises then everything goes eerily quiet. Did I push too far? I back off entirely and for a few moments there’s nothing, she’s just lying there limply. Then she bucks upwards, gasping for breath. I look at her eyes and I can tell she is utterly terrified – she thought she was going to meet her maker.

  I watch as she slowly gathers herself. She tries to speak but nothing comes out. She is really pushing my buttons. I place a glass of water in front of her and she gingerly lifts it up. Her hand is shaking so violently there is no way the water is going to make it anywhere near her mouth. “You useless piece of shit! I’ll need to do it for you, will I! Open wide Mary – do it!” She opens her mouth and I take it in – she looks like a lifeless fish; mouth gaped open wide, and it is a sorry sight to behold. Let’s get this over with. I let a good measure pour down her throat. She gargles, chokes, and splutters then finally something is uttered but it’s so faint I have to ask her to repeat it – “Neist Point.”

  “Neist Point? Seriously, Neist Point! What the fuck would they be doing there and in this storm? That makes no sense!”

  “I believe it is Caroline’s favourite place. I overheard a conversation Thomas had with her a while ago and they had been discussing the matter,” she mumbles.

  “You’re telling me he’s taken the bus all the way out there in this weather?” She simply shrugs, looking absolutely beaten.

  This day is going from bad to worse. Well, if that’s where he is headed, I might as well get a head start and get out there. I can lie in wait; that will be a lovely surprise for him when his bus pulls up. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.

  Thomas

  I called out to her again and again but there was no sign of her. I had to get to her to warn her father was on the warpath. I had to find her to confess and put everything right (if she will entertain me that is, after my betrayal). I don’t waste much time searching for her at the croft. In my heart of hearts, I know where to find her – her special place; her happy place – Neist Point.

  It is now mid-afternoon and there won’t be many more hours of daylight. With the storm still raging on, it was madness to be venturing out and especially somewhere as exposed as Neist Point. But madness aside, I was on a mission; I had to get to her.

  I find myself torn in two. I have to make this journey to reach out to her, but I know he’ll be sat in the croft growing evermore furious by the minute. What was he going to do to me when I return? He will be at boiling point ready to explode by the time I get back. He will have to wait though, I tell myself, trying to trick my brain into a false sense of security. If I have to deal with another punishment, then so be it. I deserve it after dropping Caroline in it in such a royal fashion.

  There is something else though. It feels like an impending sense of doom unrelated to father and I can’t seem to shake it off. Call it intuition but there was something just out of kilter about the whole situation and I couldn’t put my fing
er on it. It had left me visibly shaken up. The bus pulls up. We have arrived at Neist Point …

  CHAPTER 16

  I

  see the car parked there in the carpark as we draw up. How could I not for it was the only one there. Father and I would probably be the only people here today setting foot on one of Skye’s most famous tourist hotspots in the midst of this unrelenting storm. The whole island has been battered and blown to pieces with the fierce wind and blizzard-like conditions.

  The bus conductor is reluctant to drop me off. “Son, it’s not a good idea to get out. There won’t be another bus out here today, lad, not in this storm. You’re gonna be stuck, mark my words. Just go back to your seat and I’ll drop you back off where I collected you.”

  “It’s OK, I am meeting someone here.” His face says it all, he is unconvinced but opens the doors anyway.

  I dash out as fast as I can. I have to get to Caroline before he does. I can’t even look back. If I see him giving chase, I fear my panic will reach new levels and I won’t be able to continue. A little voice in my head questions whether he will leave the confines of his warm cosy car at all since the storm is wild now. But, even through the wind, I hear the unmistakable sound of a car door being slammed shut.

  “Thomas. THOMAS!” How did he know to come out here?! He is hot on my tail and shouting to get my attention, but I have a sole focus and that is to get to Caroline. His calls ease off (perhaps tailing off in the wind) and I wonder whether he has given up; choosing instead to go back to his car. I mustn’t be complacent though and I dig deep and carry on, all the while scanning for any sight or sound of her.

  The focal point of Neist Point is the lighthouse standing 62 feet high and 142 feet above sea level. It is visible from the carpark. But not so today. I have been running in the direction of the lighthouse for the past ten minutes and have yet to catch a glimpse of it. The blizzard conditions are making it impossible to see anything. I look in the direction of where I imagine the lighthouse is situated and sense a vague outline of its structure but, like a nomad in the desert glimpsing an oasis, I can’t tell if it’s real or a mirage. Must plough on I tell myself. But what if she’s not here? What if I’ve came all the way out here and there is no sign or her? And to top it off, I have infuriated father beyond measure. If he has been led here on a wild goose chase, I dread to think what will be in store for me.

  It takes all my strength to battle through and keep the momentum going. My cheeks are bright red, and my face is sore to touch; a result of the snow and wind battering my exposed skin. I heard no further call from father so whether he has given up or is just keeping his distance for now remains to be seen. Still too frightened; I daren’t turn around to check. If I see him in close proximity, I fear all my resolve will disappear instantly.

  Some respite. The wind dies down, and the snow eases off slightly as a result. With the brute force of the wind tamed for the time being, the falling snow takes on more uniformity in its trajectory towards Earth. Then I see it – the lighthouse in all its glory. And, if I am not mistaken, a figure, a solitary figure.

  The figure (if that is indeed what I see, and my eyes are not deceiving me) is some distance away. But it is enough to spur me on. I call on energy reserves I didn’t know existed within me and I race towards my goal. Even if he is still tailing me, I feel with certainty there is no way he’ll be able to catch up with me now, such is the pace I have attained. The closer I get, the more certain I am that it is Caroline. I run past the lighthouse cottages and there she stands, taking shelter at the foot of the lighthouse itself.

  I stop in my tracks and I am bent double as I catch my breath. “Caroline,” I manage, but nothing else. I need to pause and really get my breathing back to a normal rate before I continue. Part of me is concerned she will just take off in the wake of my colossal betrayal. Would she really want to hear what I had to say? She remains steadfast and attempts to communicate. “Why Thomas? Why? After all we’ve been through! We were supposed to be in this together. It was us against him! Remember?!”

  It is the question I knew she would ask but the one I struggle to answer without making myself sound pathetic because, ultimately, I used her as a scapegoat to save my own skin. I decide to open with an apology. “I am so sorry. There is no excuse for what I have done. Truthfully, I don’t know why I did it; it just came out. He had me properly scared and backed into a corner … the look on his face, Caroline, if you’d seen it!”

  “Can’t you see, Thomas, that only makes it a hundred times worse! You knew how mad he was, and you tried to wriggle out of it by shifting the blame my way!”

  Rather cowardly I respond, “Well, it was more like sharing the blame rather than shifting it. You were involved too.” Oops!

  “Here I am thinking you came out here to apologise to me! I should have known! I’ve had it, Thomas! I’ve had it with him, and I’ve had it with you!”

  I watch in horror as her eyes widen and she bolts off. Without even so much as a turn of my head I know the reason for her haste. He has caught up with us. This time I can’t help myself. I look back and there he is. It puts me in mind of a raging bull charging towards us. And like a bull, his head is down, nostrils flaring, and his sights are set on me. “Thomas! Thomas! Wait there, boy!” Not a chance. I set off in pursuit of Caroline. Where is she headed? There is nowhere to go! She can’t head backwards with father blocking the route. There is only one place she can go – the cliff edge; the tip of Neist Point.

  We have been here before and not so long ago. The weather conditions were poor then and we were close to having an accident so I dread to think about what could happen today. I race on regardless; I can’t let him harm her. It is wild again; we no longer have the luxury of the lighthouse to shelter us. I see her standing there at the very tip of Neist Point, nowhere else for her to go, her body being flung this way and that in the wind. She looks so vulnerable. If only I could turn the clocks back.

  I go to her and outstretch my arms, gesturing for an embrace. I don’t expect her to reciprocate but she surprises me when she does. “We can do this, Caroline, if we stand together, we can hold our nerve.” She breaks our embrace.

  “I can’t trust you though, Thomas, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “You can! It was a moment of madness; I wasn’t thinking straight. We need to join forces or there’s no way we will get through any of this. Please say you’re with me on this! Please Caroline! He’s coming!”

  “I’m with you, Thomas, I always have been.”

  I make a foolish mistake. I peer over the edge. The jagged, stepped rock formations akin to those of the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland are barely visible under a blanket of snow but I know they are there. It puts me in mind of the vision I had the last time when we came here – of mother’s tiny body being tossed from one of those stepped rock formations to the next on her way to her watery grave below. It would take nothing for him to push us over the edge, especially in these conditions. We still have light, but it is starting to become dusky, sunset will not be too far away. Then I feel it again, that impending sense of doom. We three are locked in this frozen nightmare. I have never relished any of the punishments he has dished out to us up at the croft but suddenly out here being battered by the wind and snow, so terribly exposed, I wish we were back there (and I never thought I would ever say that!).

  Then he is on us. There is no escape. There is nowhere for us to go for taking only a few steps backwards would mean certain death. Like a raging bull his blood is boiling. “Thomas, you have pushed me to the limit this time! You are to blame for my injury today and no one else. You have had me chase you out here – in this! It’s time you took responsibility for your actions and stop blaming other people!” He takes a step towards us as he says this and, with no alternative, we are forced to take a tentative step backwards.

  I didn’t expect it and I am surprised as Caroline takes centre stage. “We have had enough of you bullying us! You
spend all of your time dreaming up punishments for us. We decided it was time to turn the tables and give you a taste of your own medicine!” Caroline has always been volatile, but she has seriously overstepped the mark this time. What was she thinking! I feel myself have an almost out of body experience, floating above the scene watching it unfold as though I were watching a movie. There is no way to take those words back now, the admission of culpability is out there. All that remains to be seen is what he will do with it. Caroline is on a roll, without waiting for his response she ploughs on; “Well, come on then, cat got your tongue?!” I can’t believe it; she is goading him! Should I say something? What would be the point? There is nothing I can say to undo what has just been said. We are well and truly at his mercy now.

  I still feel detached from the scene as though this is my body’s coping mechanism, escaping the reality. I am watching a movie of three characters in turmoil, the landscape raw, beautiful, and dangerous all at once. The wind comes howling along the length and breadth of the stage, whirling the snow around in every direction, threatening to knock any one of the characters off their feet and send them plummeting to their death over the cliff edge.

  His voice loaded with fury still somehow manages to cut through the wind. “Enough! I don’t want to hear another word!” I move to position myself in front of Caroline to protect her, but I am not quick enough. I watch in horror as he plants both hands firmly on her shoulders and proceeds to start shaking her violently.

  “No; No!” I protest but there is no stopping him, he is blinded with rage.

  “No more talking, you hear! That’s what got you into this mess in the first place!”

  Caroline breaks down. “Father please, please stop! You are hurting me! Thomas, help me! Help me!” She is buckling under the strain and has already edged backwards since he is pushing her in the direction of the cliff edge.