‘Och, but surely Mr James will let you have that old motor o’ his a whilie longer. I will aye be pleased to see you and you know fine what Kate’s like, she would be black affronted if she thought that the best bloody McKinnon yet wasny for stopping by for a strupak.’
‘Herr Tam.’ Gently Otto laid his hand on Tam’s shoulder. ‘It is not to be, my days, they are counted, that is why I go to live with Magnus, we wish to be together for all the minutes that are left. It is my dearest wish to be with him. Tina is right, I have said my farewells to Vienna, all my friends and family are here on Rhanna. It is right that I should live for a while in the home of my grandfather; it is right that we share with one another the talk of the old days when he and my grandmother Sheena walked together through the summer shielings of their youth. I will be surrounded by love and in that way I will not be alone when I die.’
For quite a few minutes Tam didn’t comprehend the meaning of Otto’s words, then his homely face crumpled and so overwhelmed by emotion was he that all he could say was, ‘Oh ay, we’ll visit you, Mr Otto, you can be damty sure o’ that,’ before he stumbled to the door, the drams, the cards, forgotten in the trauma of the moment.
Before Otto left Tigh na Cladach he walked with Rachel on the shores of Burg, his eyes devouring the ocean, the cliffs, the great sweeping curve of the silvery bay, everything that he had loved and treasured so well.
His arm was around Rachel’s shoulder, her head was on his chest, she knew the warmth of his body, she could hear the beat and surge of his big, warm heart, beat, beating, strong, mesmerising, compelling, filling her own heart with a pain so great she felt the tears welling in her eyes and was glad that he couldn’t see them because she wanted these last precious minutes on Burg Bay to be happy ones for him.
But as always he knew what she was feeling and raising her face to his he kissed her tears away and said huskily, ‘Liebling, these moments here with you mean so much to me. Whenever I think of this place I will remember how it was with you, sharing so much of my thoughts, my emotions . . .’
He paused to study her upturned face, struck anew by her dark, vibrant beauty, by the compassion and life blazing out of eyes so black and deep he felt as if he was being pulled into the very depths of her soul, and he knew an enchantment and a love for her that he had never known with any other.
It had always been there, from the start, but he knew he had no right to her, and he had pushed the knowledge of it away from him because to have succumbed to that kind of ecstasy would have been the beginning and the end of the very special relationship that had sprung up between them. They were the richer for having denied themselves the earthly joys of the flesh; their hearts and minds had remained pure and guilt-free; she would go with him to the very end of his earthly existence and she would remember him with gratitude when all that was left of him were memories.
‘Rachel,’ he pushed wings of dark hair away from her cheeks and kissed her very gently on the mouth, ‘you are a unique and wonderful young woman. Your loyalty to me has been a joy, it was happiness enough to come to this island and to have found everything I hoped to find, but you made it so much more for me, you enriched my days with your devotion, but now you must think of yourself and your own life – your life with Jon and the little one soon to be born. You aren’t happy, I see it in your eyes; you and he should be together at this time. If you argued because of me then I am sad, but I also understand why Jon would be jealous of us. You gave me much of your time, now you must make it up to him, he is your husband, you need him as much as he needs you. I hope you told him why you were kind to me, if not you must do so right away and I want you to promise me that you will write to him and tell him how much you love him and miss him.’
Rachel took a deep breath. She knew the sincerity and the wisdom of his words, at first she had been very hurt by Jon’s desertion of her, hurt had turned to anger, then bitterness, back and forth her emotions had swung, like a relentless pendulum, never giving up, never slowing down, but now she was angry again and though she recognized that much of Jon’s behaviour owed itself to misunderstandings, she wasn’t going to give in so easily, her wilful, stubborn heart wouldn’t allow it.
She didn’t need him! She was perfectly capable of making a life for herself and her child without him! Let him sulk and mope and stay in London forever, if that was what he wanted, but she wouldn’t go to him, she would stay here on Rhanna and have her baby and if any of those gossiping crones wanted to make something of that – let them. She had always been able to stand up for herself, from early childhood she’d had to and now that she was grown she was more able than ever . . . just like Grannie Kate.
She smiled at this. Otto took her look as an acceptance of his words, he hugged her to him and urged her footsteps on and she allowed herself to go, not looking forward, not looking back, just letting herself drift with the order and inevitability of events.
Captain Mac was as furious as he could ever be, his eyes blazed, his snowy white whiskers bristled, his jolly, bulbous red beacon of a nose grew redder still as he faced Elspeth in the cosy warmth of her orderly kitchen.
Mac had had a very pleasant time of it since coming to live with Elspeth. Whenever he had felt like it he had gone off on his various pursuits and never a word of protest had she uttered; he had expected a lot of teasing from the local menfolk regarding his changed lifestyle but oddly enough Tam and the others had exercised a great deal of restraint in the matter, so much so that Mac had often wondered if he was missing out on something he ought to know.
On this particular morning the bombshell had dropped: he had been away on one of his fishing trips but because of a storm warning the trawlers had put into port earlier than expected. Tam and Robbie had been there at the harbour, the latter winking at him in a most meaningful manner while Tam smirked and said, ‘Tis yourself, Mac, back from sea for more nights o’ passion, a mite too soon for Elspeth because I passed her washing line just two minutes ago and all her frilly bits are still hanging out to dry . . .’
He got no further, Mac’s welcoming smile faded, he demanded to know what Tam was on about but that worthy, realizing he had said too much, stuttered out some excuse and with Robbie on his heels he deserted the scene with alacrity.
A short walk from the harbour soon put Mac in the picture and he stared with incredulous eyes at the display of silks and satins gaily flapping about in the wind.
‘Katie’s birthday things,’ he muttered in disbelief, shock blanching the colour out of his face as the full import of Tam’s careless words slowly began to dawn on him.
Now he expressed his feelings to Elspeth with none of his usual economy of words. He told her she was a fallen woman with nothing more on her mind than sex and sin. He had trusted her, he had relied on her, he had truly believed that she had invited him to stay at her house with nothing but good intentions on her mind when all the while she had just been using him to exact revenge on other gossiping crones of her like. She had made him the laughing stock of the place but it was for the last time. He would never set foot inside her door again, even supposing he had to go and live in a cave for the rest of his days.
‘And here was me, all this time, thinking I had never been happier since my Mary went and died on me! I should have known it couldny last. You were aye a silly woman, Elspeth, wi’ naught in your head but cunning and bitterness and tis no wonder poor old Hector went the way he did, you likely drove him to drink – maybe to his death for all we know. Well, I’m no’ for having the same thing happenin’ to me so you can just bide here, alone and bitter to the end o’ your days, for I want nothing more to do wi’ you.’
With that he barged out of the house, never stopping to collect even his pyjamas, back to the bed that ‘aye waited for him at Cousin Gus’s – fleas and all’.
The door banged shut, Elspeth sank into a chair, her eyes wide and staring, her gaunt body trembling with reaction. She had lost Mac, through her own childish stupidity she had los
t the one man who had ever brought any meaning into her lonely life. Her shoulders shook, the slow tears trickled unheeded down the deep seams of her face, the grey ashes of her life piled up in front of her mind – and made a far greater mound than the little heap of peat ash that had spilled out of the fire on to the gleaming hearth.
Ruth’s heart was beating rapidly in her breast as she steered her car in the direction of An Cala. Ever since the row with Rachel she had had a miserable time of it, she had moped, she had mooned about, her conscience pricking her so badly it had been almost a physical pain. She had needled at the children, she had sulked with Lorn – in the end he could stand it no longer and had finally given her an ultimatum.
‘Go to Rachel and apologize; if no’ I’ll take the bairns to Laigmhor and bide there with them till you come to your senses. I mean it, Ruthie, if I stay here wi’ you a minute longer I might just be forced to take you over my knee and give you a good skelping.’
His anger had shocked her out of her self-pity. She didn’t dare be angry back because a determined Lorn was a Lorn to be reckoned with, and after an agonizing night of indecision she had finally made up her mind and had run out to her car before her courage failed her.
Saying sorry didn’t come easy to Ruth. When she was younger she had always apologized, mostly for innocent actions that her mother had chosen to interpret as sins, but in the end she had rebelled at having to be sorry for everything, even she sometimes felt, for her very existence, with the result that now she could hardly bring herself to utter that familiar expression of humility, even when she knew she was at fault.
This, however, was different. She had greatly wronged her dearest friend with her blind accusations and knew that nothing could ever be right between them again till she had made amends. But such actions took courage and Ruth’s traumatic upbringing had very effectively quelled many of her natural strengths, allowing some of her weaknesses to push through in the process. Marriage to Lorn had certainly given her a lot of confidence, even so, the very idea of having to face the vibrantly powerful Rachel was almost too much for her and she gulped with nerves when the peacefully smoking chimneys of An Cala hove into view.
She needn’t have worried, Rachel was delighted to see her and made no attempt to disguise her feelings. Ruth was so overwhelmed with relief she burst into tears, so thoroughly ashamed of herself for the way she had treated everyone these last few weeks that it was all Rachel could do to make her stop crying and accept a brew of her ‘strange-smelling tea’.
Ruth dried her tears, she laughed instead, and clasping her hands round the cup she gulped down the liquid, never minding the taste, something in her romantic soul making her see it as an offering of peace from a girl who could have thrown her apologies back in her face but who was far too big-hearted to be so petty.
Ruth couldn’t wait to catch up on all the lost weeks of separation. She remained at An Cala for hours, and they talked and talked, Rachel’s hands flashing, Ruth’s face a study of animation. No holds barred, they brought everything out into the open and drew closer than they had ever been been since the golden days of innocent childhood. Rachel confided her innermost thoughts to her friend and Ruth wriggled uncomfortably when it became clear that Jon had left Rhanna, thinking the exact same things about his wife as Ruth had done.
Determined to make up for her hasty judgements, she offered to drive Rachel to Croy Beag whenever she could, and Rachel, who had been in a quandary wondering how she could get to see Otto, jumped at the chance with such eagerness Ruth threw back her fair head and laughed, her violet eyes shining in a face all at once happy and carefree.
With a very determined expression on her face, Nellie, having just arrived from Hanaay on the steamer, made her way to Cousin Gus’s house looking for Captain Mac.
Ever since her brother had lost his wife, Nellie had maintained a fairly firm hold on his affairs but she hadn’t seen him for some considerable time and might have left it like that for another few weeks had not a rather disquieting rumour reached her ears. She was therefore in quite a state of self-righteous indignation when she presented herself at Gus’s door and was no sooner over the threshold when she demanded to see Mac at once.
‘He doesny live here anymore, Nellie,’ Gus explained rather fearfully, endeavouring to rub away a dinnertime soup stain on the greasy lapel of his ancient tweed jacket whilst he spoke.
Gus had a great respect for Nellie who never minced words, as far as he was concerned, and always gave him a biting piece of her mind whenever their paths crossed.
Nellie wasn’t exactly a formidable figure: she was plump of face and rotund of figure, her salt-and-pepper hair was rolled into a tight sausage round her head, her untidy skirts revealed dimpled knees on otherwise shapeless legs, her splayed feet, which Mac said reminded him of a pregnant duck, were stuck into stout brogues, and altogether she was a quaint figure to behold. But a perpetual frown on her round, jutting-jawed face belied her kindly nature and Gus never dared take any cousinly liberties when in her company.
At his words her nostrils flared. ‘I’m no’ surprised,’ she snorted, glancing round her in disgust. ‘The place is a piggery, no’ fit for a dog, never mind a decent man like Isaac!’
Gus bristled a bit and jutted out his own jaw in some defiance of her criticism, but she was calling her brother by his ‘Sunday’ name, which meant she was really on her high horse, so Gus knew to go warily. ‘Maybe no’, but Mac did bide here for a good whilie, so it canny have been that bad. And as a matter o’ fact, he turned up here the other day lookin’ for a roof but went away again, just before you arrived . . .’
Gus stroked his beard as he recalled his cousin’s parting words, ‘It’s no’ possible to live here wi’ you again,’ had been Mac’s biting assessment of his short-lived stay. ‘No’ after Elspeth and her clean and decent ways. You’re just no’ fit to bide under the same roof as another human being. You pick your nose; you rift and fart like a horse wi’ the colic; you do awful things wi’ your beard behind your newspaper and yon stuff you call rum would make a pig sick for a week. I’ve shat bricks for two days because o’ these damt ferrets o’ yours! I canny thole it any longer and if Elspeth will have me back then, by God, I’ll never leave her again for she’s a woman in a million and that’s a fact!’
‘And that’s gratitude for you!’ Gus had retaliated hotly but to Mac’s receding back – he had left the house and was already hot-footing it down the brae to the village.
‘And just where has Isaac gone?’ Nellie demanded, in a tone that suggested she knew the answer but wanted to hear it spelled out.
Gus looked surprised. ‘To that cailleach, Elspeth Morrison. He’s been livin’ wi’ her all summer, I thought you would have heard.’
‘No! I didny hear! At least, no’ from him!’ snapped Nellie, her face turning a bright crimson. ‘The bodach never breathed a word to me about it – and wi’ that dried-up besom too.’ She stomped to the door.
‘Will you no’ stay and sup a cuppy wi’ me?’ Gus offered in an attempt to ingratiate himself with her.
‘Gus McIntosh! The last time I supped tea in this house was the last time! The cup was thick wi’ tanning inside and black wi’ dirt on the outside! The rim was chipped and cracked and was so full o’ germs I had food poisoning for a week and skitters for a month, so just you keep your damt tea and put it where it will do the least harm – and if you don’t know where that is ask the doctor and see if she’ll risk showing you!’
Gus was hurt, mortified, and furious. Raising two fingers, he viciously prodded the air with them and shouted to the closed door, ‘And that’s to you, you po-faced hag! At least the doctor could find my backside – yours healed up years ago and two fingers in the air is about all you’ll ever get from a man for he wouldny know where else to put them!’
At that precise moment, Mac stood facing Elspeth in her cosy kitchen, shamefaced and apologetic, his big red fingers worrying the pom-pom of his knitted woollen cap wh
ich he had removed in a most mannerly fashion on entering the house.
‘Ach, lass,’ he said kindly, noting the hurt and embarrassment on her gaunt face and the puffy eyes which denoted plainly enough a woman who had cried a lot in recent days. ‘I’m sorry for all the things I said to you. I wasny thinkin’ straight at the time and cared more for my own feelings than yours. Who gives a sow’s erse if all the world talks about us? When I had time to think about it I pictured all the shocked faces and had the best bloody laugh I’ve had in years. I bet Behag nearly peed her flannel breeks at the sight o’ all the satin knickers on your wash line. She will maybe have a permanent ring round those beady wee eyes o’ hers from all her peekin’ through her spyglasses. just like one o’ they spotty dogs you see wi’ floppy lugs and hair specs.’
Elspeth’s lips twitched, a strangulated sound escaped her tightly held throat. She sniggered, she snorted, she threw back her head and broke into skirls and cacophonies of pure unadulterated laughter. Mac joined in, the two of them held on to the back of the couch and simply screeched with unrestrained merriment.
Mac wiped his streaming eyes with his woolly cap, his brimming brown eyes regarded her fondly. ‘Ach, tis good to see you happy, lass, and I’m going to tell you something to make you even happier, how about you and me going to Oban on a shopping spree? We’ll get Katie some new things for her birthday and at the same time I’ll buy you the finest set o’ underwear that any woman ever had. Anything you like, see-through, pee-through, the treat’s on me, for your Christmas when it comes, the best bloody Christmas for us both in years.’
Elspeth’s eyes were wet again, but this time she wept the tears of disbelieving happiness, her thin shoulders shook, her head trembled on her scrawny shoulders, with a wail of impatience she scrabbled in her apron pocket for her hanky, but before she could withdraw it Mac folded her into his hairy strong arms and gently wiped away her weepings with the corner of her apron . . .
Stranger on Rhanna Page 33