by Joan Fleming
‘So, when did you find out why Janet was in such a state?’
‘I heard part of the story a few days later. You see, I had always been keen on Janet. I was in the same year at school, and I asked her out when we were at Oban High School, but it was a lost cause. She was only interested in Duncan – no other guy had a look-in. She was a real beauty, quite tall, carried herself well. She was once asked if she would do some modelling, but she refused – she didn’t think her dad would approve. With her red hair and those startling green eyes, she’d have made a brilliant model.’ George smiled, a wistful look in his eyes as he reminisced about his schooldays in Oban. Then he took a deep breath, as if to collect himself, and continued with his story.
‘I asked Janet if she would come with me to the ceilidh in Bunessan the following Saturday. I was amazed that she agreed, but I assumed she wanted the opportunity to explain to me why she’d been so distraught at the baptism. We never did get to the ceilidh that night. We spent what felt like hours walking around, while she told me about her marriage and the baby. She hadn’t heard a word from Duncan, who, to this day has made no direct contact with her, although he filed for a divorce through a lawyer.’
‘He has never come back to the island?’ Anna asked.
‘No. I gathered his parents followed him out to America, and nothing has been heard of them since.’
Anna had not given much thought to her biological father; she had been so intent on making contact with her biological mother.
‘Thank you, George, for sharing all this with me. It must have been distressing for you, too, especially as you… were…’
‘I loved her, Anna,’ he replied simply. ‘And I still do.’
CHAPTER 26
When Finn arrived to drive her to the north of the island once again, Anna could scarcely conceal her excitement. She’d prepared for the outing with care, including a dilemma over which of her two best tops to wear. She hadn’t brought many clothes with her, but she was aware of a desire to look her best. In the end, she chose a top which was predominantly green, which she’d been told highlighted her green eyes. She’d washed her hair, and now stood in front of the mirror, tying it back in a ponytail.
She paused for a few moments, watching how her red hair shone whenever a shaft of sunlight coming in through the windows caught it in its rays.
‘Ready?’ Finn asked, placing his hands gently on her shoulders as he smiled, widening his eyes in approval. He came no closer – no hug, no kiss, not even on her cheeks.
‘Yes,’ Anna replied. ‘Although the weather looks as if it’ll be rather mixed. Spells of sunshine, with intermittent rain, the forecast said.’
‘You’re right,’ Finn said. ‘It won’t be as warm as our last trip. Make sure you’re well prepared. It’ll be good if we can see Bloody Bay in the wind and the rain – could add to the atmosphere.’
Anna smiled. ‘And can you order sunshine for Calgary Bay?’
‘At your service, dear lady.’
Finn’s light-hearted remark set the tone for the day. They started out, taking the same route as before, but instead of turning off after Pennyghael, this time they continued to Craignure.
‘This is where we first met,’ Finn said. ‘It’s been great getting to know you, Anna. I’ve really enjoyed our time together.’
‘Me, too, Finn. You’ve been so kind, taking me around the island. And Iona, of course.’
‘My pleasure, Anna. Call it self-indulgence.’
‘We go along the coast here, don’t we?’ she asked, glancing at her surroundings.
‘Yes. The road is sometimes single track, sometimes double.’
‘With passing places?’
Finn laughed. ‘Without them, the roads in Mull would be impossible. Or we might end up toppling into the sea. On our right is the Sound of Mull. That’s where I do some of my diving.’
‘So, there are wrecks in these waters?’
‘There certainly are.’
‘Ever find anything valuable?’
‘Not really. There are rules and regulations covering anything found on a wreck, but treasure isn’t what attracts me. What I’m interested in is the story behind the wreck, the history. And the sea-life. The sea plants these wrecks attract, for instance.’
‘How many are there?’ Anna asked.
‘I can’t give you an exact number, but there must be more than thirty.’
‘Crikey! I thought you were talking of about three or four at most.’
‘There are the Big Four, as they’re called, which are ships which are more or less intact. We know their history, and there’s even one, the SS Shuna, which still contains her full cargo in her holds. She was carrying Welsh coal from Glasgow to Gothenburg when she sank in 1913. She’s resting on an even keel in a small bay.’
Anna realised she was sitting in the wrong side of the car; she would have had a better view of the coastline if they were driving from north to south.
‘Will we be coming back this way?’ Anna asked.
‘Not if we continue our journey beyond Tobermory to visit the two bays you’re keen to see. Why do you ask?’
‘I feel I’m annoying you, constantly leaning over you to see the coastline.’
‘You’re not annoying me in the slightest,’ he said, with a brief smile. ‘In fact, I rather enjoy it.’
When they arrived in Tobermory, they stopped to have lunch at Cafe Fish, famous for its seafood. They were fortunate to grab a table by the window in the busy restaurant, from where they could look out across Tobermory Bay, but it was a different picture from that of their previous visit. Angry dark clouds began to push their way into the sky, chasing the few remaining cumulus clouds, with their delicate tracery off to the east. Windows started to rattle as the chill west wind sought out the nooks and crannies which gave access to the interior of the building.
Anna shivered. Finn pulled his jacket from the back of his chair and put it round her shoulders.
‘Any minute now, the rain will start,’ he said. ‘It may only be a shower.’
He was wrong. Yes, the rain started, but it was no passing shower. Large gobbets of rain, the size of saucers, splatted onto the windows and ran down in rivulets, obscuring the view. It was as if a thick muslin screen had dropped from above, giving the outside vista an air of unreality.
They had both finished their light meal, and Anna wondered how wet they would be by the time they reached Finn’s van. They could make a run for it, but although Anna’s ankle was much improved, she didn’t yet feel capable of running.
‘Shall we wait another ten minutes to see if it goes off?’ Finn asked.
‘Yes. I reckon that’s a good idea.’
But ten minutes later, the rain lashed down with even greater ferocity. They could see flashes of lightning, and, within seconds, loud thunderclaps boomed around the bay.
‘I have a large umbrella in the car,’ Finn told Anna. ‘I could go and bring it here, and at least it would give you some cover to the car.’
‘Oh, Finn. Ever the Sir Galahad. Not at all.’ Anna laughed, but was touched by his thoughtfulness. ‘If you’re prepared to brave it, so am I.’
‘Okay. Let’s go for it.’
They stood up, put on their jackets and, with Anna’s hand firmly grasped in Finn’s, they walked quickly to the car, splashing through the puddles, and allowing the wind to have its way with their hair and the hoods of their anoraks. When they arrived, Finn took a moment or two – which felt more like half an hour – scrabbling in his pockets for the keys. Anna could feel the water running down from the top of her head to the ground.
At last Finn unlocked the doors and they fell into their seats, but not before Anna’s hand had slipped off the handle of the van door several times.
Out of breath, they were both convulsed with laughter, and Finn leant over and pulled her to him, kissing the drops of rain still running down her face.
Leaning back, but still with his arms round her, he smiled.
‘I did warn you,’ he said. ‘Shall we head back as quickly as we can, and visit your bays another time?’
‘I don’t think we have much choice,’ Anna said. ‘I don’t fancy standing in the wind in these wet clothes – we’ll end up with pneumonia.’
‘I’ll switch the heater on. That should start the drying process. No doubt the windows will steam up, but that can’t be helped. Let’s go!’
After he had dropped a still damp Anna off at Benview, Finn drove off quickly. Uncomfortable as he was in his wet clothes, he knew there had been no hope of extending the outing, attractive though that idea had been.
Still, he thought, I’ll have to take her back again to see Calgary Beach and Bloody Bay. He smiled at the thought; the prospect of another trip to the north with Anna made him less conscious of the need to exchange what he was wearing for some dry clothes.
CHAPTER 27
Anna looked at the time on her mobile on the bedside table: four o’clock in the morning. Normally a sound sleeper, she wondered what had wakened her. She lay for a few moments, listening intently. Then she heard it: someone – or something – scratching at the outside door. Her heart began to beat faster, but she remained in bed, hoping the person or thing would go away. Then it came again, leaving her head pounding and her hands, slick with sweat, clinging to the duvet.
A little whine, so soft she almost missed it, brought her thoughts under control once again. Of course! It must be Mary Benview’s dog. Anna had heard from various people – George, Elsa, and Kirsty herself – that the dog might turn up at the door of the cottage. What was her name again? Bess. Yes, it must be Bess.
Still not entirely certain there was no threat, Anna lifted an umbrella from the stand before cautiously opening the door. Bess sat on the threshold, shivering in the pouring rain, looking up at her with her sad, brown eyes.
‘Come inside, Bess,’ Anna said gently. ‘Let’s get you dried, and I’ll warm you some milk.’ Needing no further invitation, the dog, whose every bone could be seen now that her fur was wet and clinging to her frame, immediately made her way to a corner by the range, where a dog bed was tucked into an angle of the wall.
‘I see you know your way around,’ Anna said, picking up the towel which lay folded on top of the bed, in readiness, she assumed, for such a situation. Rubbing the dog down, Anna was surprised at how easily Bess allowed herself to be dried by someone she had never met before. Gradually the animal’s shivering calmed, and she lapped up the warm milk Anna had prepared for her, before curling up on her bed in the warm area by the range.
Once Anna had checked that she’d locked the door – she still couldn’t bring herself to leave it unlocked as many of the islanders did – she returned to her bed. Twenty past four. It had taken her only twenty minutes to attend to the soaked dog, but it seemed much longer. She thought she might have difficulty in drifting off to sleep again, but tiredness overtook her, as no doubt it did Bess in her cosy corner of the living room.
The following morning, Anna wakened to the sound of rain still thrashing against her bedroom window. Remembering her visitor’s arrival in the middle of the night, she went through into the living room to find Bess still asleep in her bed. Unfamiliar with the habits of dogs – Anna had grown up in a house with a cat – she suddenly recalled seeing a shelf with dog supplies in one of the kitchen cupboards. There was a card stuck onto the inside of the door headed: BESS, with instructions on what to do if the dog turned up at the cottage.
Anna had already heard the dog’s story from her friends. Bess was part of a litter which had been bred to be sold as sheepdogs, but she had failed to respond to the training. Her owner, a farmer, had no further use for her and was on the point of having her put down, when the dog ran away. She disappeared for a while, but then was befriended by Mary Benview, the original owner of Kirsty’s cottage. Bess became Mary’s dog until her mistress died. Since then, she had roamed around the Ross of Mull, seeking food and shelter wherever she could find them. Sometimes, she would simply turn up at Benview.
Gazing down at the sleeping animal, Anna realised that she would quite enjoy the company of Bess if the dog chose to stay. Until now, she had no experience of living alone – and she didn’t really like it. She had moved from her parents’ home to the flat she shared with Roddie and the others.
Of course, she couldn’t force the dog to stay. By all reports, Bess was an independent spirit who made up her own mind about where she was going and where she would stay in. Nonetheless, Anna hoped that the rain would be an incentive for Bess to make Benview her home for a while. She would be reassuring company while Anna made some progress on her assignment; she needed to get down to some serious work on her commission.
‘You’ll not be going far in this rain, I suspect, Anna.’ George said, when she answered his phone call on her mobile.
‘No. Finn and I got soaked yesterday, and I’m not looking for a repeat today. I’m sitting at my laptop, working – and I have a good signal for the internet, for a change. Besides, I have Bess here with me.’
‘Aha. She’s found you, has she? She generally turns up in someone’s house when the weather’s bad. Had you met her already, then?’
‘No, not until four o’clock this morning,’ Anna replied, laughing.
‘In that case, you’re very privileged. Bess is extremely fussy about whose house she goes to.’
‘She seems to be quite at home here, and in no way unhappy that I’m living in what she no doubt considers to be her territory.’
‘Can I come and join the two of you? Interrupt your work? Perhaps have yet another cup of coffee?’
‘Of course, George. See you shortly.’
CHAPTER 28
‘I see Bess has decided to make you a friend.’ George eyed the dog lying at Anna’s feet. ‘She seems happy with you living here. She doesn’t welcome everyone, you know. Doesn’t make a fuss, but refuses to stay under the same roof as some people.’
‘Yes. She seems quite relaxed with me,’ Anna said. ‘It’s as if she’s known me all her life. I don’t know much about dogs, though.’
‘Don’t worry. Bess will show you the ropes. She knows about people.’
They were sitting enjoying their coffee. George had made it, so that Anna wouldn’t disturb Bess, who was curled round her feet. An occasional snuffle suggested the dog was content, possibly recovering from her ordeal of the day before when she had been caught in the storm.
‘Well then, Anna. Have you thought about a possible meeting with Janet? Or are there any questions you would like to ask me?’
‘I do have a question, George. How does, erm, Janet feel about acknowledging me publicly? The opinion of the other islanders was an important factor in her decision to have me adopted.’
‘These are different times, Anna. Even on an island where change happens slowly. Besides, it was Janet’s parents, especially her father, who felt so strongly about their reputation on the island. Janet was married, so there was no question of her baby being illegitimate, but there was an element of shame in being abandoned by her husband so early in their marriage. Can you think of what that must have done for her self-esteem?’
‘I hate to think of any woman in such a situation. Especially with no-one to support her.’
‘They were dark days, and it took Janet a long time to move to the point where she could start to live again. But it was a part-life; she left so much behind in Glasgow.’
‘And now?’ Anna asked. ‘How is she now, twenty-five years later?’
‘She copes quietly with everyday life, makes her living from her paintings. She has always lived in hope of seeing you, despite knowing that she had given up all expectation of that.’
‘So, why did she refuse to meet me when I contacted her?’ Anna raised her shoulders and widened her eyes.
‘That’s not easy to explain, Anna.’ George reached for his coffee, but replaced his cup when he realised it was empty. ‘I know it sounds a bit cont
rary, but she was afraid. You’d think she would grab the opportunity with both hands, but she had no idea what to expect. Would you be angry? Resentful? As long as the two of you didn’t meet, she could dream. Dream about a wonderful awakening of love when you met for the first time. And she feared the reality could shatter that dream.’
They sat in silence for a while, Anna’s thoughts running over what George had just told her. She hadn’t considered the idea that her birth mother would be afraid of what might happen if they met; that she might have to abandon the dream which had sustained her all this time.
‘How do you feel about meeting Janet? Would you like me to arrange it?’ George leant over and gently took Anna’s hand in his.
‘Yes, I would love to meet her,’ Anna replied. ‘After all, that’s one of the reasons I came to the island. But only if she would like to meet me.’
George smiled. He squeezed her hand, and for a moment Anna thought she saw a glisten in his eyes. Did it mean so much to George?
‘Okay, I’ll fix that up for you. When are you available?’
They made arrangements for two days later. George offered to come and collect her, and suggested they meet with Janet at his house.
After George left, Anna wandered around the cottage, unable to settle to anything. She had tried to create a mental picture of what her birth mother would look like; George had told her that she resembled Janet in colouring: red hair, and the translucent skin that so often accompanies it. But that image was only twenty-five years old; what would her mother look like now?