Almost there, my husband said. Can’t wait to see you.
Same here, I wrote back, and told him we were going out for a short walk. Meet you in the bar.
Miss Gloria was waiting outside the door. “How’s your room?” she asked.
“Glorious,” I said. “Come in and take a look.”
Once my friend had admired the view and the window seat and the faux-chest bureau, we left the hotel and wandered down the street, exclaiming over the seaside panorama and peering into shop windows. A large orange tiger cat with a thick neck and a square head strolled out from a doorway to meet us, then flopped down on the sidewalk in front of us.
“Tobermory!” I said. We both crouched down to cluck at him, and stroke him, and admire his stripes. “Don’t tell the other cats, but you’re a very handsome guy.” He flicked his tail and scrambled off. “I wonder if he minds being named after the town?”
“He’s a cat,” said Miss Gloria. “Probably not. Most likely he thinks the town’s named after him.”
We crossed the road to lean against the white metal rails that overlooked the harbor. “You know how I mentioned that Gavin and Glenda said there was a bloody battle near here?” Miss Gloria asked. She looked very serious, her eyes focused on the horizon, and I nodded for her to continue. “I don’t know quite how to explain it, but I kind of feel that battle in my bones right now too. A little bit like what was happening in Glencoe.”
I felt instantly alarmed and reached out to put my hand on her arm.
She chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing scary or dangerous and nowhere near that intense, not right now. But let me put it this way: if someone offered me the use of their virtual reality goggles, I would say, ‘No thank you’ before they even finished asking.”
I felt a surge of concern. “Are you really okay? Do you need to rest a bit?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Nothing needs to happen. I only wanted to share how I’m finding these thin places astonishing, exhilarating, tragic, exhausting. Let’s head back. It’s almost time to meet the others for a drink.”
“I hope you don’t regret coming,” I said as we crossed the road.
“Not in the slightest. And look, it’s your Nathan!”
Nathan and William were disappearing into the hotel, and by the time we arrived, they were already sitting at the bar, sipping pints of Guinness. I had never been quite so happy to see anyone as I was him. I trotted across the lobby to throw my arms around my husband.
“I missed you something fierce,” he whispered in my ear, holding me tight in a bear hug. He let me go and turned to hug Miss Gloria, though more gently. She looked so small wrapped in his arms.
“Are you all right?” he asked, looking into her eyes. “Hayley said you had quite a shake-up.”
“Everyone keeps hovering, but I’m fine. Turns out thin places are not for the faint of heart,” she said. “Not when you’re the original divining rod. But it’s been amazing, and really, I’m in top-notch form. I may look old, but I’m sturdy.” To prove her point, she hopped onto the barstool next to Nathan without an assist. “My friend and I will have a wee dram of your finest sipping whiskey,” she told the bartender, who looked slightly surprised and then amused. “And tell us about your golf match,” she said to the men.
William laughed, his teeth white against his golfer’s tan. “I’ll leave that to my brother-in-law. I’d better reacquaint myself with my wife. We’ll see you shortly for dinner.”
“The less said about the golf, the better,” Nathan said, turning back to us. “I’d rather hear about Glencoe, if you’re willing.”
I leaned into Nathan as Miss Gloria talked, feeling a sense of safety that had been missing for the past few days. After we’d chatted about our time apart, the rest of the group clattered into the bar, and a waitress escorted us to the long table nearest the fireplace. A fire crackled in the hearth, throwing out a good amount of very welcome heat in the cool of the evening. Vera sat at one end of the table, with her husband by her side and her mother across from her. Nathan, Miss Gloria, and I took the middle seats, and Gavin, Glenda, and Ainsley sat at the other end. Vera hadn’t obviously arranged the seating as she had the other nights, and I wondered if she had given up on encouraging us to schmooze with her partners.
“I see what I want,” said my husband as soon as he opened the menu. He pointed to something called beef Piccarumba, described as hand-diced Pennygown beef steak slowly simmered in a rich Tobermory ale gravy, with a puff pastry lid. “I know my wife will have me back on the fish-and-salad band wagon as soon as we get home. Until then, I will load up on Scottish calories and cholesterol.”
Miss Gloria ordered a burger with beet root and onion relish and hand-cut chips and smoked back bacon, and I went for another helping of fried haddock fillets with chips and peas on the side.
“Do you mind if I order some hors d’oeuvres for the table?” I asked. “Since we’re almost to the end of our excursions, I need to get a few more Scottish specialties under my belt.”
“Go for it,” said Vera.
I ordered a smoked salmon mousse and a cullen skink, described as natural smoked haddock embraced with cream, potatoes, and leeks, with hand-rolled homemade bread on the side. I would need to remember that lovely turn of phrase—haddock embraced with cream. At the last minute I added scallops, mushrooms on toast, and something called mac and cheese bonbons, because whatever they were, who could possibly resist such a description?
The waitress filled our wine glasses and soon brought out the starters. As Nathan and William discussed the adventures they’d endured on the golf course, I took notes on the food and the incredibly cozy ambience, with the dark wood and stone around the hearth lit up by the crackling fire, and tried to jot phrases about how I might describe Scottish food in general. Before coming to this country, I hadn’t exactly known what to expect. This cuisine didn’t strike me as similar to French or German food. Even people who hadn’t visited those countries might be able to name their food specialties. Germany leaned toward meat and potatoes, while France was famous for its sophisticated fine dining. I was finding that the essence of Scottish food had crept up on me more slowly.
Our dinners arrived with more wine, and I began to feel a little fuzzy and warm, woozy with alcohol and tired from the events of the past few days. Caught between conversations at each end of the table, and full of food and wine, my mind began to drift.
Miss Gloria snapped my attention back to the table by tapping a fork on her water glass. “This has been an amazing trip, and I’m so grateful I was included.” She cleared her throat and looked directly at Gavin. “I’ve been thinking about what happened in the Glencoe Valley and our conversation on the ferry. Although I am a pretty tough customer and I’ll be fine, I think, for your sakes, limiting your liability and such, it would be a good idea if I talked directly with your publisher to tell him exactly what happened with me. That way he can make a judgment about any potential legal matters before moving forward.”
All conversation at the table lurched to a halt, and now everyone was staring at her.
“That sounds like a reasonable plan,” I said, just to break the awkward silence.
“It can’t hurt to be cautious, and I’m imagining he would want to know, don’t you think?” she added.
Vera looked stricken and pale. “I think you should do what you feel is best.” She paused, as if there was a “but” coming. Instead, she stood up and left the table, her husband right on her heels. For tonight, the party was over.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Harmless as a setting dove,” he agreed. “I’m too hungry to be a threat to anything but breakfast. Let a stray bannock come within reach, though, and I’ll no answer for the consequences.”
—Diana Gabaldon, Outlander
Nathan and I slept in a little bit and enjoyed some honeymoon snuggling. I spooned up against his muscular body, feeling perfectly content and still a little sleepy. “Did you ever w
onder why I run into trouble everywhere I go?”
“You heard it here,” he said, squeezing me. “You and Miss Gloria are magnets for trouble.”
“You didn’t have to agree so quickly,” I said, poking him in the ribs. “People need help and we step up, that’s all.”
“Speaking of that, what’s up with my sister?” he asked.
I told him in more detail about the conflict between Vera and her colleagues. “I suspect she wishes she’d never gotten into this project with them, but Gavin brings a level of recognition and money that would disappear without him.” The alarm on my watch beeped, marking eight o’clock.
“Noooo,” he said. “Turn that thing off. It’s the first morning in ages I have my wife to myself.”
I giggled. “We’re leaving for Iona in a couple hours, but that leaves us time for breakfast and a walk out to the lighthouse if we get going now. You and I will see each other forever, but this is our only chance to see Tobermory.” I threw the covers off to let him know I was serious.
We got dressed and went downstairs to the bar, my brain focused on coffee and my stomach on eggs and a double rasher of bacon and, if I was lucky, maple scones with loads of butter. Or cheese scones—those would be amazing too. Miss Gloria was not in the breakfast room. I glanced at my phone. It was minutes past the time we’d decided to meet.
“I better go wake her up,” I said to Nathan. “She’ll not forgive us if she misses anything. Will you order the full Scottish breakfast for both of us?” I’d have to cut back on the amount I was eating once I got home, but breakfast in this adorable hotel was not the place to start.
I trotted up the stairs and knocked on her door but got no answer. Maybe she’d gone outside to cuddle Tobermory the cat before breakfast? She had told me on the way upstairs to bed last night that she was missing Sparky and T-bone something terrible. As I went back down the hall, I checked my phone again and noticed that Miss Gloria had left a message that I hadn’t seen on the way out because I’d been distracted by Nathan.
“Gone for a walk to the lighthouse with Glenda. I should be back in time for breakfast. Remember how I told you how kind she was yesterday? She feels terrible about upsetting me, and wanted to make it up to me by taking me on the walk to the lighthouse. It’s another thin place that she says I need to experience. She’s really much sweeter than we thought. She realized I was upset by my experience with those goggles and wanted to show me something she thought I’d really appreciate. She says it might be the most amazing treasure out of all the thin places in Scotland, and that most people don’t get there.”
This was bad. I could feel it in my bones. I didn’t like the way she explained it to me, justifying her decision and then repeating it, which meant Glenda must have given her a real sales job. I hurtled down the stairs two steps at a time and bolted into the bar. Nathan was explaining to the waitress that yes, in fact, he did mean to order three full Scottish fries plus extra scones and butter for the table.
“Hold everything,” I said, stopping Nathan mid-order. “We’ve got to get to the lighthouse. Miss Gloria might be in trouble.”
We hurried out the door and trotted down Main Street until we reached the point where the path leading to the lighthouse began. On the way, I explained why I was so worried. “I suspect Gavin and Glenda fear that Miss Gloria’s experience could scotch the publisher’s interest in going ahead with the goggles. The way she talked last night at dinner, they would have to feel certain she’s going to call their editor. There’s no telling what they might do to keep this from happening. I don’t like it one bit that Glenda has cut her out of the pack and is taking her somewhere remote.”
“Have you noticed anything over the past week that would make you suspect Glenda of nefarious intent?” asked my husband as we trotted toward the lighthouse. “You have hardly mentioned her to me.”
I thought this over as we jogged. “I’m free associating here … She accused Grace of trying to poison her, though Grace denies this. And Grace also says Gavin made a pass at her. Does Glenda know this? Imagine how humiliating that would be. Ainsley, Vera, and Glenda seemed to have had a falling out in college, but I don’t have a clue why. And everyone knew Joseph Booth at least slightly, though no one wants to discuss it. And last but not least, Glenda doesn’t eat much—that always gives me pause.”
A couple walking two large black Labrador retrievers emerged from the opening in the vegetation.
“Have you seen two ladies going this direction, one of them older with white hair and a big smile?” Nathan patted his head to mimic our friend’s wispy halo.
Because of her thick accent, I couldn’t understand everything the woman answered, but they had definitely seen Miss Gloria enter the path with a second woman. Apparently, they both seemed fine, friendly even. And I heard the man mention Rubna Nan Gall, which Vera had told us was the name of the lighthouse.
“Is there a road?” Nathan asked. “Any way to get there in a car?”
The two locals looked at each other and shook their heads. “The only way to the lighthouse is this.” The woman gestured at the narrow path.
“It’s a coastal foot path,” the man added. “Two kilometers to the lighthouse, twenty-five minutes if you walk at a brisk pace.”
“Call the police,” Nathan told them firmly. “Find out if they can send a rescue boat to the lighthouse. It’s an emergency.” He was terrified for our friend, I could see that. And his worry made me feel even more frightened.
Nathan took off without waiting for me. But that was fine, the sooner he got there, the better Miss Gloria’s chances. The adrenaline coursing through my veins allowed me to run faster than my lungs and legs thought possible. I only stopped for a moment to pick up a fallen tree limb the size of a baseball bat, which might serve me as a weapon if I needed one. When I finally burst out of the greenery, panting like one of the black dogs, I could see the lighthouse keeper’s cottage on the left and a long path leading to the lighthouse on the right. A weathered stone wall ran the length of the path until it met a wire fence guarding the lighthouse. Past the fence, two figures stood at the end of the rocky promontory.
Nathan hurtled in their direction. “Stop right now!” he hollered, but the wind was blowing hard off the water, and with it, his warning bounced back to me.
To my utter horror, the taller figure gave the smaller shape a good shove off the rocks and into the cold waters of the Mull Sound.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I wanted to cook for my mother in my own home, as though the act of feeding and nurturing her would unravel our rage like a kinked phone cord.
—Elissa Altman, Motherland
Nathan vaulted the fence that guarded the lighthouse, pushed Glenda away from the edge, and dove into the sound. There was splashing and yelling. Glenda scaled the fence and bolted back in my direction.
I stood at the bottom of the steps leading to the keeper’s house, legs wide, blocking her retreat. “Do not even think about trying to get past me,” I growled, brandishing the big stick I’d grabbed from the wooded path. “You’ve done enough damage, and the gig is up, as we say in my country.” The fight seemed to drain out of her. Cowering and shaking, she sank down to the bottom step.
Nathan towed Miss Gloria back to the rocks in a lifeguard carry, his arm across her chest, and helped her clamber out of the water. He hoisted her over the fence, and then he hopped over, and they made their way toward us, both of them dripping and shivering. A bit of blood ran down my friend’s shins where she must have scraped skin off on the rocks. She shook herself off like a wet dog, and I insisted that she take my sweatshirt. She pulled it over her head and tucked in her arms.
“I’ll take over from here,” Nathan said to me, grabbing Glenda’s wrists and twisting them behind her back. He tugged her to her feet. “You take care of Gloria.”
But Miss Gloria sprang to the top step, her hands perched at her waist. “Wait just a doggone minute. Before you take her anywhere, I want
to know what the heck you were thinking?” she asked Glenda. “What did I ever do to you?”
At first I thought Glenda would remain mute. But then she lifted her chin defiantly and began to speak, her angry gaze pinned on my friend. “Did you not hear yourself last night at dinner? Why would you feel entitled to barge into our country and destroy this project? This book means everything to my Gavin’s reputation. And our future together … Bad enough that awful slut Grace tried to ruin Gavin by casting false accusations about his loyalty to me.”
Miss Gloria crossed her arms over her chest and wrinkled her nose. “I was doing you a favor by speaking up about the possible liability issues you risked with those goggles.”
Glenda practically snarled in reply. “It was no favor, sister, and I was not about to let one dotty old lady ruin our triumph.”
She was clearly off the deep end, and I thought it would be best to direct her away from Miss Gloria.
“Was Joseph Booth out to get your husband as well?” I asked, because I couldn’t keep the question inside. “Is that why he had to die?”
“Joseph Booth?” Glenda’s lips began to quiver. “He tried to ruin my Gavin years ago by casting aspersions on his work, claiming it was his. Gavin fired him, as well he should have. And Booth slunk away, tail between legs. But he returned to haunt us when he read in the news about how big our book was going to be. This time, he wasn’t going to give up and leave town.”
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