by Joan Fleming
Anna hurriedly consulted maps and guidebooks so that she could make a decision on where to ask Finn to take her. Although she was finding it easier to walk around, her ankle was slightly painful, so it might be better to go somewhere that didn’t require much walking, especially on rough terrain.
This was so different from her usual methodology for her research. Normally she would have everything organised in advance, even though she knew she had to be flexible; plans sometimes went off-course, but it was still better to have some kind of plan in the first place. Of one thing she was sure: she would never again try to mix her personal life and her research on the same trip.
She was poring over one of the maps when her mobile signalled a call from Cindy.
‘Hello, Anna. How are things going with you in Scotland?’
Anna was instantly on her guard, ready to counter any suggestion of bossiness on Cindy’s part.
‘Fine, thank you, Cindy.’
‘Are you still in Mull?’ Cindy asked.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s great! I have a message from Mel. He asks if you would kindly take as many pictures as possible on the island. The focus of his lecture has changed slightly, and he expects it to be more visual. Would that present you with a problem?’
‘Not as such,’ Anna replied, her shoulders relaxing slightly. ‘But does he still want information on The Lords of the Isles?’
‘Yes, please. Of course, there will be an increased payment. If you’re agreeable, I’ll prepare a revised contract.’
‘No problem. I can do that. I’ll probably be here for a few more days.’
‘Wonderful! I’ll pass that on to Mel.’
As she clicked off her mobile, Anna smiled.
By the time Finn arrived, Anna had decided she would like to explore the area to the north of Mull including Tobermory, the capital of the island, which she hadn’t yet visited. She’d read that there was a small museum in the centre of the town, which seemed a good place to start, especially as it contained information on Mull families and episodes in the island’s history. The museum was staffed by volunteers, according to the guidebook, so she hoped they would find someone there to give them access.
‘Great idea,’ said Finn, when she told him where she’d like to go. ‘I’ve been in a few times. They have information about the wreck of a Spanish galleon laden with gold bullion, which sank in Tobermory Bay after a fire.’
‘Is that true?’ Anna asked.
‘It’s a legend,’ Finn replied. ‘But perhaps it’s based on truth. No gold has ever been recovered, but the wreck is said to be buried deep in the mud at the bottom of the bay.’
‘Have you done any diving there?’
He laughed. ‘No. That’s too high-powered for an amateur like me. The British Admiralty attempted to locate the wreck in 1950, but they were unsuccessful.’
‘I suppose tales like that are embroidered in the telling, and no-one knows what’s true and what’s anecdotal in the end.’ Anna was enjoying their chat. Finn was relaxed, driving his van fast, zipping into passing places as traffic approached from the opposite direction.
‘We’re not going as far as Craignure on this road,’ he told Anna. ‘We turn up shortly after Pennyghael to head to the north of the island. Then we go through Balnahard, a beautiful spot where we might catch sight of some of the wildlife which Mull’s so famous for.’
‘Wildlife?’
‘Yes, birds like the white-tailed sea-eagle.’
‘Are there golden eagles here?’ Anna asked.
‘Yes, but we’re more likely to catch a glimpse of the sea-eagle. It’s bigger than the golden eagle, with a wingspan of almost two-and-a-half metres.’
‘Wow! That must be some size of bird. If they’re called sea-eagles, I suppose they eat fish from the sea?’
‘They also eat other seabirds and scavenge for rabbits,’ Finn told her. ‘But seeing a sea-eagle catch a fish in the water is like watching a ballet dance. They hover on currents of air, their dark beady eyes concentrated on a fish, then they swoop down on their prey with the deftness of a dancer. When they come up out of the water, their next meal is clamped in their beak.’
‘I’ve seen pictures of them, but they don’t really show the size of the birds. It would be great to see them in the flesh,’ Anna said.
‘Well, perhaps we will,’ Finn said, flashing her a quick smile before returning his attention to the single-track road.
They settled into silence, as Anna gazed out at the scenery they were travelling through. It was almost too much to take in. She wound down her window and set her camera, capturing the landscape on film as they progressed up the road. Mindful of the new request from Mel for more pictures, she asked Finn to slow down from time to time, which he did willingly. After a while, she decided to put her camera away and allow her surroundings to work their magic.
Finn kept up a running commentary, names like Gruline, Loch Na Keal, and Dervaig slipping easily off his tongue.
‘What’s your accent, Finn? You don’t sound as if you come from the island,’ Anna asked.
‘Can’t you guess?’ he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
‘Definitely Scottish,’ Anna said. ‘But I can’t go any further than that.’
‘You’re right. I’m a Scot, but I tend to pick up the accent of the people I’m mixing with. I’ve lived most of my life so far in Glasgow, but I’ve travelled around a lot.’
‘So, what brought you to Mull?’ Anna was curious to know how this man who seemed to know so much about the islands of Mull and Iona, was available at short notice to spend an afternoon with her. How did he earn his living? Should she be paying for his services?
‘What brought me to Mull? Well, originally, the Dive Centre over at Lochaline. That’s where a short ferry ride connects Mull to the mainland. I came for a course learning to dive to the wrecks of boats which lie in the Sound of Mull. I loved the activity, and made up my mind to come back again for more.’
‘But that was on the mainland. Why Mull?’
‘When I was here the first time, I came over to Mull from the Dive Centre because I wanted to visit Iona. I thought of Mull originally as a kind of transit area to Iona. But I was bowled over when I realised how beautiful – and how interesting – the island is. The people, both the Mulleachs and the incomers, are so friendly. I loved the lack of stress here, life in touch with the natural world.’
‘So, you came back?’ Anna asked.
‘At every opportunity. It became like a drug. I didn’t want to leave, and as soon as I was back in Glasgow, I was filled with longing to return. Eventually, I quit my job and decided to come to Mull and try to earn a living here.’
‘A bold move,’ Anna said. ‘And have you managed to find a job?’
‘A job, no,’ Finn said. ‘I earn my living doing a number of jobs. I’m a tourist guide – not an official one, but I offer my services to people who work with tourists: hotels, B&Bs, and to people who rent out self-catering accommodation. I help out at sheep-shearing; I cut peats, and do lots of different small jobs. I’m quite well-known as a kind of odd-job-man who’s prepared to turn his hand to anything.’
‘But what job did you have in Glasgow?’
‘Would you believe I was an estate agent?’
‘Oh dear,’ Anna said with a chuckle. ‘They don’t come out very high in the popularity stakes in opinion polls.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ Finn said, with feeling.
About half an hour later, Finn parked in a car park in Tobermory. Anna felt she had been there before, having seen so many pictures of the colourful row of buildings – on calendars, posters as well as on television. The scene on the Main Street had been made famous by being used for the fictional village of Balamory – a popular children’s television series. Many people thought the scene had been created specifically for the TV programme, but Anna could see that definitely wasn’t the case. The multi-coloured row of buildings was already there.
‘Some of the actors from the programme lived here for a while when they were filming,’ Finn told her. ‘They became friendly with the locals, who were mostly pleased that their town should feature in such a popular TV series.’
‘Are they still filming here?’ Anna asked.
‘No. The programme ran for about three years. As far as I know, there are no plans to revive it.’
As they strolled along Main Street, Anna took Finn’s arm for support. They walked along slowly, Finn guiding her to the spots which were of interest. When Anna stopped occasionally to rest her ankle, she was tempted to gaze at the spectacular bay on one side of the road, but anxious to explore the brightly-painted shops on the other, always remembering to take photographs for Mel.
‘Why don’t we go into the Bakery and Coffee Shop?’ Finn suggested. ‘Perhaps we can get a table near the window so you can enjoy the view and sample some of the local Island Bakery treats? I can recommend the Lemon Melts.’
‘Sounds lovely. Oh, Finn, I’m so enjoying this. And the weather’s perfect.’
Anna had been pretty lucky with the weather since she arrived on the island – sunshine and gentle winds. Having read the guide books, she was aware that she probably couldn’t expect this to continue for much longer. Winds, perhaps even stronger than she’d experienced the day she went to Duart Castle with Roddie, seemed to be a predominant feature of the climate here on the island. But she was keen to experience the island in all its moods.
‘This is scrumptious,’ Anna said, savouring her tangy lemon biscuit dipped in rich white chocolate. ‘I’m glad I took up your suggestion.’
‘I can’t resist them,’ Finn said. ‘The smell of baking is so delicious in here; I’m always tempted to buy some to take home with me.’
‘I think I’ll do the same,’ Anna said. ‘And I’ll ignore the calorie count.’
Finn smiled at her. Raising his eyebrows, he said, ‘You don’t have to worry about calories. Your shape is perfect.’
Anna felt the heat rising from her neck to her face at the unexpected compliment. She couldn’t think of any response.
‘Let’s move on and see some of the other shops before we head back,’ she muttered.
Finn led her into a shop with a quirky name: Tackle and Books. It turned out to be a veritable Aladdin’s Cave, selling not only what it said above its front door, but a whole lot more. One corner provided anything the angler might need – the ‘tackle’ side of the business – while the ‘books’ were displayed on shelves in the centre of the shop. In another corner, artists could find everything they required to capture the magnificent scenery of the island.
The bookshop focused mainly on titles of Scottish interest, fiction and non-fiction: history, novels, mainly centred on the islands, with a special emphasis on Mull. Anna could hear the helpful staff offering information and advice to the tourists who almost filled the shop.
Finn, who was clearly well-known, bought a map for Anna, which he opened out once they were back in the van. He placed it across her knees, and with his finger traced the route they had taken on the way to Tobermory. He pointed out the hamlet of Calgary, with its castle overlooking the bay.
‘That’s one of the most beautiful beaches on the island,’ he told her. ‘In fact, I think it’s the most stunning beach I’ve ever seen. I could take you there, if you like.’
‘Now?’ Anna asked.
‘Hmm, no not today. It’s about twelve miles from here, and we’d need more time to do it justice. Tomorrow, perhaps? We could make a day of it. Take a picnic.’
Anna smiled. ‘Finn, I’m here to work. I’ve seen pictures of Calgary Bay, and I’ll take photos of it for Mel, but I really have to treat it as work. Also, don’t forget my remit is The Lords of the Isles and their connection with Mull.’
He looked so crestfallen that Anna felt her heart melt.
She consulted her notes.
‘There’s a bay I’d like to see – Bloody Bay, on the north coast of the island. It’s where John of Islay, Earl of Ross and Lord of the Isles, fought a final battle with his son, Angus Og Macdonald around 1480,’ she read.
‘A fifteenth century family feud,’ Finn said, smiling again. ‘Who won?’
‘Angus,’ Anna replied.
‘So, that meant he was then Lord of the Isles?’
‘Correct,’ Anna said. ‘But not for long. He was murdered ten years later.’ She read on for a bit, then added, ‘But they had lost so many men and most of their ships in the battle, that the period of power of the Lords came to an end.’
‘I know Bloody Bay,’ Finn said, brightening up in the manner of a small boy who’s been offered a bag of sweets after a disappointment. ‘It’s at the north of the Sound of Mull, a couple of miles north of Tobermory. We could go there tomorrow? Would that suit you?’
This man was nothing if not persistent. But Anna had more important matters to attend to, and travelling over the island as a tourist, pleasurable though it may be, would do nothing to advance her progress.
‘I don’t think so, Finn,’ she said. ‘I have something else to do tomorrow.’
Once again, his dejected look tugged at Anna’s heartstrings.
‘How about Wednesday?’ she suggested. Would that be possible?’
Finn shook his head. ‘I’ve already arranged to take a group of tourists over to Iona on Wednesday,’ he said.
Now it was Anna’s turn to feel disappointed. She realised she didn’t want to leave this island without spending more time with this young man. The intensity of Finn’s magnetism surprised her. All the more so, since she scarcely knew him.
They finally agreed on Thursday.
CHAPTER 25
Anna responded instantly to George’s phone call the following morning. She had expected him to make contact after giving her enough time to read the letter from her birth mother and think about its implications.
He offered to call on Anna if she wanted to discuss things, and she readily agreed.
When he arrived at Benview, Anna sensed his fear of walking on potentially dangerous ground.
‘Come on in, George,’ she said, trying to put him at his ease. ‘Coffee? It’s a little milk and no sugar, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, thanks, Anna,’ George said, taking a seat at the table.
Anna was aware this was a kind of role-reversal; this time she was the strong one and George the one who was proceeding warily, nervous of how their conversation would develop.
Anna put down two mugs of coffee on the table, and realised it might be easier not to talk about the package George had delivered straight away.
‘So, what have you been up to since I last saw you?’ George asked.
‘We went to Tobermory yesterday.’
‘We?’
‘Finn offered to drive me to the north of the island.’
‘I hope he behaved himself,’ George said, narrowing his eyes.
‘Yes, he was the perfect gentleman,’ Anna said, with a reassuring smile.
‘He’s clearly taken quite a shine to you,’ George said. ‘Don’t let him take any liberties.’
‘Oh George, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’
‘So, you enjoyed your day? I think you had the best of the weather. There’s quite a stiff wind today, and the temperature’s gone down.’
She shivered. ‘Yes, I’m aware of that. I think I’ll turn the heating up a little.’
Anna was aware they were skirting round the subject George had come to discuss, shadowboxing until one of them introduced the topic. She decided to delay no longer.
‘George, I assume you know about everything that led up to my adoption?’
‘I haven’t read what Janet said to you in those pages, but, yes. I know the background. When Janet asked me to be a kind of go-between, she told me I had freedom to discuss all I know with you.’
‘So, how did it come about that you are the only person on the island who knows about me?’
‘I knew nothing at all until Janet returned to Mull after your adoption. Everyone here, including me, thought the reason she had deferred entry to art college was her father’s illness – she came home to help her mother to look after him.’
‘Did no-one suspect the real reason?’
‘Not that I know of. There was certainly no gossip. Expressions of sympathy for the family, yes, but there was no suggestion here that Janet had been pregnant.’
‘So, how did you hear the whole story, George?’
‘It was on the day of a baptism in Creich Church. The grandparents were friends of Janet’s parents, and they were invited to the baptism. Janet was desperate. She knew her parents couldn’t attend unless she helped them – her dad was in a wheelchair by then – but she didn’t know how she could cope with the baptismal service and the celebrations afterwards.’ George paused while Anna refilled their coffee mugs from the pot keeping warm on top of the range.
‘Thanks, Anna.’
‘Go on, please.’
‘Well, the ceremony was a nightmare for Janet. She knew she might break down at any minute, but all eyes were focused on the baby and her parents.’
‘It was a little girl?’
‘Yes, she, of course, stole the show, and Janet managed to stay in control until we all came out of church. I found her about half an hour later, when everyone had left, sobbing her heart out behind the church.’ He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes fixed on some object that Anna couldn’t see, as he appeared to relive that day.
‘What did you do?’
‘I bundled her into my car and drove her home, then I rejoined the baptismal party. I explained to her parents that she was unwell and that I would help with the wheelchair.’
‘And no-one was suspicious?’
‘Why would they be? Even I couldn’t think of any reason for her to be so upset. The baptism of a baby is usually a big event here on the island, and everyone was eager to enjoy it. “Poor Janet”, they all said, because she was missing the party.’
Anna tried to imagine what it must have felt like to be in Janet Maclean’s circumstances that Sunday on the Isle of Mull. Devastated at giving up her baby so recently, she must have found it unbearable to look at another young mother’s happiness as her child was baptised. How could she possibly join in the celebrations of new life with the rest of the community?