I consider this. My gut instinct was to leave him here, abandon him like he did me but there was a truth in George’s words. If I did as he suggested, once again I had the upper hand and would be seen to be unaffected by Bert’s wickedness. “OK, we can offer him a lift, but undoubtedly he will throw it back in our face.”
“There’s every chance, Thomas!”
We leave the courtyard and scan the surrounding area. Janey spots him straight away. “Over there,” and she points him out. He is just off the path close to the edge of the cliff. Rather than raise the alarm and cause him to run off, we approach quietly. He isn’t aware of our presence – yet.
I do my best to quell the unrest. My siblings are universally not in support of this plan. They think we should turn around and never look back. However, we are fairly close to him now. It is a wide-open vista of sky and sea beyond. Once again, I hear the noise of the waves crashing on impact with the cliffside and I am reminded of the scene twenty years ago.
George gives me the nod to start a conversation with him. No doubt Bert will think this is some sort of a trap, so I try to make it sound as sincere as possible (which believe me is no mean feat when all I feel like doing is wringing his bloody neck!).
“Come on, Bert, come with us, we will give you a ride back.” His movements are jerky. He whips his head around and snaps it back. From the look in his eyes, he is terrified. He knows what I meant to do back in that courtyard and, if it hadn’t been for Janey, he knows I would have followed it through. He says something but his words are lost on the wind and travel out to sea, so we advance further, closing the gap between us.
This time he initiates the conversation. He turns to face us, and it suddenly dawns on me how close we are to the cliff edge. “Do not take another step! Ya hear me? Any one of you takes another step in my direction and so help me God, I’ll fling their carcass over the edge!”
I hear something and it scares me witless. It’s Caroline. “Now’s your chance, Thomas! You will never get another chance like it. Put that miserable bastard out of his misery once and for all! Push him, Thomas! Do it for me and do it for you, for all the hurt he has inflicted. He thought nothing of tossing me over the edge, so why should you? They will try to talk you out of it, but don’t listen to them, Thomas, do it for us!” I am momentarily conflicted, then come to my senses.
“No Caroline, I won’t do it!”
Bert sneers and ridicules me in response to this. He mimics my voice, “No Caroline, I won’t do it … Hearing voices again, are we? You are a loon just like your crazy bitch mother. You’ve lost your marbles too you know. Mark my words, in no time, they will cart your ass off to that care home too. How fitting – you and her side by side, two crazies locked up together!” This time George interjects before I have a chance to say anything.
“Enough Bert. Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? Let’s draw a line in the sand. It ends here today. You go your way, and we go ours. Forget about the offer of a lift home, just let it go, no more, Bert.”
“Aah, it finally speaks, the wife-stealer and adulterer. Oh, and now, the prodigal father so I am led to believe! Do not for one minute lay all the blame at my door. You have more than played your part in all of this! Interfering and sticking your nose in where it wasn’t wanted. After all, we wouldn’t be stood here today if it wasn’t for you as Thomas wouldn’t exist now, would he? And the world as we know it would be all the better for it.”
“Now look here, Bert, you’ve overstepped the mark one too many times!” I watch on in disbelief as everything which happens next unfolds. George takes a step towards Bert. He doesn’t lash out at him. However, Bert instinctively takes a step backwards, feeling threatened by the advancing George.
There was nothing obvious jutting out of the earth, but Bert had stumbled on what we later discovered was uneven, rough ground. His balance was completely off kilter. His arms were flailing, and you could see terror in his face. He was desperate to regain control over his motor function, to stabilise himself, but it was impossible. The chain of events was set in motion and the initial stumble sent him reeling backwards.
I reached forwards; arms outstretched. He made a vain attempt to reach for my arms, but it was hopeless, and he knew it. We all watched in astonishment and horror as Bert Taylor drew his last breath. He careered over the cliff edge, his body consumed by the furious waves below and his screams were sucked in by the prevailing winds.
We all dropped to our knees and peered over the edge. There was no sign of him, as though he had never existed in the first place. The watery depths had claimed him, and he would not be released from their grasp.
We sit like that, peering over the edge, for an indeterminable period of time, fully expecting to see his face appear at any moment. It didn’t seem possible that such a formidable life-force such as Bert could be snuffed out in an instant like that. Eventually, with no sign of him re-appearing, we retreat and sit some distance away from the edge. We have no words so sit there in a mutual shocked silence. The only sounds to be heard are the perpetual gusting winds, crashing waves, and Caroline’s summing up of the situation – “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
CHAPTER 31
Six months after Bert’s passing
L
ife has a strange way of just easing back into a natural rhythm. No matter what trauma you endure, life simply ploughs on regardless. Days turn into weeks and weeks into months. You just get sucked along with it.
Leaving Skye was bittersweet. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was coming to terms with my reality and my mental state. I had faced the demons from my past head on and they hadn’t destroyed me. I was no longer haunted by old ghosts.
However, leaving meant leaving George and leaving mother. I had only just discovered my new father then had to bid him farewell. But there was no way I could leave my financial advisory practice a minute longer – clients were starting to become impatient in my absence. There was also Michael. I yearned to be back home, to spend time with him.
When the time was right, Janey and I sat him down and explained that there was someone he needed to meet – his new grandfather. George had been patient with us and fully understood that we wanted to take things at a slow pace to begin with. This was not the case with Michael. As soon as he knew about George, he just had to meet him. So, arrangements were made, and he came to stay with us for a couple of weeks.
From the minute he arrived (a couple of days ago), there was an obvious bond between the two of them. George marvelled in the new experience of having a grandchild and Michael was only too happy to lap up all the attention. It was a joy to behold and, honestly, I could feel the start of a relationship forming between myself and George.
When I look back over the years, even although neither of us knew we were so intimately connected, he had looked out for me and shown genuine concern. It meant a lot. Wherever this was going, it felt as though our relationship was blossoming. There was even a connection between George and Janey. It was light-hearted. They shared a similar sense of humour and, it appeared, a deep affection for one another.
I had taken some much-needed time off work whilst he was here and set about planning what we would do with our time together. We were only a couple of days in when he asked if it would be possible to have a private chat. I could tell from his demeanour this was to be a serious discussion.
“Sorry son,” (he had just taken to calling me son) “I need to speak to you about Bert.” The heavy weight re-appeared across my shoulders. “There was an investigation into his disappearance.” Of course there would be. I had been so preoccupied with work etc. that I hadn’t given the matter too much thought. He carries on.
“I have a friend on the force and was able to get some inside information. Don’t worry though, I haven’t mentioned anything about you being my son. I don’t want to arouse suspicion. The good news is they never found a body. The sea swallowed him up good and proper.” I
motion to him to hush and quieten his voice down. Michael was only upstairs, and God forbid should he hear a word of this. Newly silenced, I then give him a nod to carry on.
“You know what folks on the Islands are like for making up stories. All sorts of weird and wonderful tales have been told. But the truth is, no-one knows what happened to him. No-one has come forward to say they saw him or us out at Neist Point.” At this, I breath a huge sigh of relief.
“It was a real mystery to the Police – his car being parked right outside but there being no sign of him. They have followed up on various lines of enquiry but each time, have hit the proverbial brick wall.
“Although a thorough investigation was carried out, by all accounts, Bert was somewhat the recluse. He could go for days or even several weeks without seeing a soul so there was no-one to raise the alarm straight away. The only time he mingled with people was when he needed to get his food or drink and he limited that contact, preferring instead to stock up for a month at a time. The only other contact he had was with the local vet if any of the animals needed tending to, but that contact was few and far between (he was tight with his money and animal welfare wasn’t high on his list of priorities).
“With no body and no witnesses, they don’t suspect any foul play. Their report concluded that it was completely out of character for him to just disappear. However, at the best of times now, his behaviour wasn’t what you would classify as ‘normal.’ He has succumbed to alcohol and it was plain for anyone to see that he was no longer able to look after himself or the croft. You only need to spend a couple of minutes in the place to realise the magnitude of his mental decline and his addiction problems. You saw that for yourself, the state of the place and all the empty bottles of liquor strewn everywhere. They have parked their investigations for now. The only open line of enquiry is that he is a missing person, and should anyone have any information in relation to this, they should come forwards.”
I sit back and take it all in. All things considered, we were extremely lucky. There were very few people out there that day (I can recall only seeing a couple). I had, however, been too preoccupied at the time with Bert to pay too much attention but, from memory, they had been dog walkers. Hopefully, the status quo remains intact and they don’t go to the Police.
I try to picture the scene in my mind from a third-party viewpoint. You had Bert out front being chased by me then not too far behind were George and Janey. It is unlikely that George and Janey’s presence would have aroused much suspicion (they had been quite far behind us). However, the worrying part was me chasing Bert. But could this be interpreted for something else other than a chase? Two people out on a run together only meters apart perhaps? After all, we had arrived in the same car … it is possible that this is what someone would see? I had to cling to the hope that that is what it looked like.
However, had there been any witnesses to the scene at the courtyard or the cliff edge afterwards, that was a different matter entirely. I chide myself for even contemplating this. There wasn’t a soul in the courtyard (our own company aside). The cliff edge though, I couldn’t be so sure. I had only become aware of external surroundings after Bert met his untimely death. At that point, I can say with certainty there was no-one there.
It is true, neither one of us was wholly to blame for his demise. But how would it look in a court of law? I had a physical and verbal altercation with him in the courtyard, causing him to run off. Then, at the cliffside, George had advanced towards him (when he had been provoked) causing him to stumble backwards and lose his footing and fall to his death. Yes, we hadn’t pushed him but I was certain that a good lawyer worth his salt would find that we were both culpable.
I simply had to adopt George’s perspective – no news was good news. I tell him so and he nods in agreement. We make a mutual decision at that point – nether one of us will speak of the matter again and we will move on with our lives. I take a mental note to relay everything he has told me to Janey so that she too is in the loop and hope that she will happily agree (as George has done) to never speak of it again.
We slip easily back into our new family life; this awful matter well and truly behind us. For the remainder of George’s stay, we make the most of our time together – us showing him the beautiful Border countryside and what it has to offer and him helping to prepare sumptuous dinners and telling us tales about folklore from days gone by around the Highlands and Islands. Michael is engrossed, thoroughly engaged.
But, what of my siblings? I continue to take my medication but not the same dose I took before I travelled back to Skye. I cut the dose in half which means it is not as potent and, as a result, my siblings now appear to me occasionally. I had made the decision to work on my mental health but, I wasn’t quite ready to let them go, not just yet. I didn’t hide this from Janey. We talked about it at great length. Given what I had just been through, she fully understood that it would be very difficult to let go completely for now. We would take it one day at a time – together, as a family.
A couple of months later, I was sat at my desk in a rare moment of peace and contemplation. Caroline appeared to me. I immediately straightened my posture, receptive to what she had to say for I could see the grave look on her face.
“I have been waiting for the right time to tell you this, Thomas. It’s about that day out at Neist Point with Bert. I saw someone … I saw a face … peering out of the window of one of the lighthouse keepers’ cottages …”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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IT’S TIME: COULD YOU RISK YOUR SANITY TO SAVE YOURSELF? Page 25