He stopped smiling. ‘If you knew that, why didn’t you take precautions?’
‘I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel like it. What a laugh if I was pregnant by you, Angus.’
‘A laugh!’
‘It’d knock your selfish attitude all to hell. I’d be home in time for Bruce to think it was his. I think I could arrange that. But what if it had frightened blue eyes and a wee huffy mouth? He’d know it was yours then.’
‘This conversation is in bad taste, Nell.’
‘I wonder what he’d do if he found out that the kid was yours. You’re not his favourite person, as you know.’
‘I refuse to consider such a possibility.’
‘He wouldn’t disown it. He’s fond of kids. He wouldn’t blame it. In fact, it might bring him and me closer. He’d think I was in trouble, real trouble, and he would want to stand by me.’
‘Let’s talk about something else, please. Or rather let us not talk at all but enjoy the peace and quiet.’
‘Wouldn’t you be proud if in a year or two I was to send you photographs of your son or daughter? Which would you like it to be?’
Such a foolish question deserved to be ignored.
‘But if you didn’t do the trick last night, you never will, not with me anyway. From now on I’m a chaste married woman. But there’s Janet. She’s a beautiful woman, as you’ve no doubt noticed. But I guess you’d have to have wings and a prick of gold. Where is she, anyway?’ She stood up to look. ‘She seems to have vanished.’
‘There’s a cave. She’ll have gone into it.’
‘Yes, that’s what she must have done. What’s she hiding from, do you think?’
‘It’s hardly a place to hide in. It’s said to be haunted, like the bay. Some of the victims tried to escape into it. Bones have been dug up. Human bones.’
‘Jesus, certainly not a place to hide in. Not if you’re normal, that is. You know, there are times when I feel that it wouldn’t take much to send her completely round the bend.’
‘She had an aunt who went insane.’
‘Maybe it’s in the family, like second sight. We’ll have to go and look for her.’
‘In a little while. We’ll have a rest first.’
‘I expect she’s safe enough.’
They lay down and sunbathed for half an hour.
Nell got to her feet, feeling anxious. There was still no sign of Janet.
She kicked Angus’s foot. ‘Better get up. She’s not to be seen. Does that cave go far in?’
‘Yes, but nobody knows how far. Apparently the passage is very low and narrow. Bones were found in it too.’
‘Some poor bugger went in and died there?’
‘Probably.’ He got up and knocked the sand off his slacks and shirt. ‘I don’t like caves, any caves. I get claustrophobic.’
They set off across the sands. When they came to the dead gannet, Nell touched it with her bare toes.
Live gannets were diving into the sea. They watched one come up with a fish.
‘Her Douglas is coming on Saturday,’ said Nell, as they moved on. ‘I’ll be interested to meet him. She says he’s a karate expert.’
‘I have no wish to meet the egregious Douglas.’
Nell laughed. ‘I should think not, considering that he might want to break your neck. I know that you haven’t ravished Janet but, Douglas, I think, has got such a high opinion of himself that, though he’d have to break your neck if you’d ravished his wife, he’d regard it as an insult to him if you hadn’t, and so he’d have to break your neck in any case.’
Nell spoke nervously. They were now among the strangely shaped rocks. The one like a huge frog had lumps of quartzite for eyes. She kept imagining people with their throats cut and their blood seeping into the sand.
As they approached the cave they began to shout Janet’s name. At least the tide was well out.
They stood at the mouth and looked in. It was as big as a small church. The ceiling was high. On the wall was written in large white letters: JESUS SAVES. ‘Well, he didn’t, did he?’ muttered Nell. They saw bones in a corner. A cow’s, whispered Angus. Cattle often came down on to the sand in hot weather.
There were fresh footprints, Janet’s, no doubt, going towards the back of the cave, where the roof sloped down. In the green slimy wall at floor level was a small opening. A sheep would have had difficulty in squeezing through. Yet Janet must have done it.
‘Do you think you could try, Angus?’ asked Nell. ‘I’m too fat.’
He almost protested that he would make a mess of his white shirt and tan slacks. It would have been a sensible, if craven, complaint.
He turned and looked out at the beauty of light and the vastness of space.
Then, crouching like a foetus, and whimpering, he crept through the hole into a passage where the roof could not have been more than three feet high and the sides were even less than that apart. The floor was rough with stones. He shouted Janet’s name, but the noise confused and frightened him.
It wasn’t likely that the roof which had stood for thousands, perhaps millions, of years would collapse in the next two or three minutes, but he couldn’t be certain. If, as many believed, there was an end to time and God one day blew His trumpet summoning all corpses, from those of mountaineers buried in the snows of Everest to those of sailors in wrecks at the bottom of the sea, his would not be able to respond. It would be like a beetle squashed under a heavy boot. His loneliness now, though terrifying, was nothing to the loneliness he imagined then, when, bidden to join the celestial throng, he was not able. It did not help, on the contrary, it increased his terror, that he did not believe in God or resurrection.
After about 20 yards, he could go no further. He heard a scream. It came from his own mouth but it was the demons screaming. They were mocking him. Look at him, they were saying, he’s no better than a worm and yet he had the arrogance to think himself capable of creating immortal masterpieces. His legs being too weak to support him, he had to get down on to his stomach, like a worm indeed. He began wriggling backwards, desperately. He might not have had the strength for the last yard or two if Nell hadn’t seized his shoes and pulled him out.
He lay gasping, on his stomach, not willing to let Nell see his face still contorted by terror.
She took hold of him and heaved him up on to his feet. She couldn’t help laughing when she saw his face. ‘My God, Angus, your nose is bleeding.’
And his legs were aching, his head throbbed where it had bumped against the roof, his left elbow was bruised, and his clothes were ruined.
She helped him to the mouth of the cave, where his legs gave way. He sat with his back against the wall, looking out at the bright sky.
‘Poor Angus,’ she said. ‘No wonder you’re wary of women. I wonder where that crazy bitch has got to. You couldn’t see anything?’
‘Nothing.’ He really meant nothing: sheer black nihility. Dimly, in the depths of his disordered mind, there appeared an idea for a painting.
They were so intent, Angus on recovering from the horror, and Nell on wiping the blood from his face, that neither of them noticed Janet emerge from the hole, on hands and knees. She got to her feet, a little unsteadily, stretched herself like a cat, and came towards them.
Nell turned her head, saw her, and yelled. The very fact that Janet was suddenly there, as if she had materialised out of air, was shocking enough. What made it more so was that her face and hair were green. Most frightening of all, she was smiling at them, not at all like a zombie who had just been visiting other zombies, but cheerfully, like a holiday-maker a little more venturesome than her companions.
‘It’s a pity I didn’t bring a torch,’ she said. ‘There’s an inner chamber, from the feel of it larger than this.’
‘You’ve got a bloody cheek,’ said Nell, ‘frightening us like that. Poor Angus tried to go in after you. He’s not recovered yet.’
‘Douglas and I once explored a cave in Skye. We went in for half a
mile. We had torches, of course. Douglas is afraid of nothing.’
Which meant, thought Nell, that he had no imagination. Just as well, married to this witch.
20
Angus and Nell decided, in a consultation while Janet was out of the room, to make no fuss about her going to the airport. Better humour her until Saturday when Douglas, rash fellow, was coming to claim her. They would not accompany her. There would be no satisfaction this time in seeing her face when Fidelia and Letty were not among the passengers. Perhaps they ought to be there in case the disappointment was too much for her, but they hadn’t yet recovered from the ordeal in the cave. They needed a rest from her.
They noticed that she did not put her suitcase into the car. Nell could not resist mentioning it.
‘So you’ve dropped the idea of going with them to Glasgow?’
‘I can’t stop them coming here. I should have known that.’
They went out to watch her drive off.
‘Well, Angus, what are you going to do now? Me, don’t laugh, I’m going to do a little jogging. I’ve got to get some more flab off. Why don’t you do some painting?’
He shook his head listlessly, but when she came downstairs wearing brief shorts, sweatshirt, and sandshoes he was in his studio. Careful not to disturb him, she set off across the machair at a gentle trot. Only sheep and larks saw her, thank God. Soon she was drenched with sweat, for the day was warm. Flies were quickly attracted to such a feast. They buzzed about her eyes and ears. One even entered her mouth. For Bruce’s sake, she persevered.
After half an hour she took a short rest and then turned back, looking forward to a dip in the sea as her reward. How, she wondered, as she puffed and panted, did flies manage to keep up with her and yet keep circling round her head? When you came to think of it, the most unlikely creatures had remarkable powers. So perhaps it wasn’t so incredible that certain people, such as Janet, were able to foresee the future or have visions of the past. And then there was Angus, so careful to supply his shrine with breadcrumbs every night. She had laughed at his talk of demons having to be placated, but in her own life there had been misfortunes which weren’t her own fault. She had called them bad luck but that explained nothing. If any place was ever haunted, it was this island. Its very beauty was uncanny. How could it be so beautiful, considering the dreadful things that had happened on it? Angus had told her that hundreds of years ago monks had lived where his house was. They were said to haunt it. He hadn’t ever seen any himself but he had felt their presence. God help her, looking out of her window last night she had seen one herself, having a piddle. It was like her, coarse cow that she was, to see him doing that. Other people would have seen him praying. But of course it was nonsense, she hadn’t seen him at all, it had been imagination and moonlight.
When she arrived back at the house, soaked with sweat, Angus was still in his studio. Pleased about that, she went quietly upstairs for a towel, and then made for the beach, past what Angus had said had been the monks’ privy. A little blue flower grew there which wasn’t to be found in any other place on the island. She paused to look for it among the other flowers. There it was, not unlike a violet but with a longer stem.
If the ghosts of the holy celibates were there, watching, they were going to get a treat. On the sand, out in the open, she peeled off her damp shorts and sweatshirt and kicked off her shoes. Then, naked, she ran into the sea. Since the sand shelved gently, she had a long way to go before she could plunge in. Therefore those invisible watchers were getting a good look at her fat white bum as it flashed in the sun. Today fatness in females was not admired by males, hence her desire to get rid of some for Bruce’s sake; but, according to Angus, in the past it had been different, a woman without a fat bum, big boobs, and plump thighs would have been considered uncomely. He had shown her paintings by famous artists like Rubens, in which the women, mostly goddesses, were rolling in fat. By those standards Nell herself would have been in demand as a model. When the water was up to her waist she turned and let them see her breasts, a bit flabby – a point of beauty, though, in medieval eyes – and big enough, as Bruce had once said, fondly, to gag a horse.
Well, she thought, as she began to swim in the chilly water, there should be more pep in their prayers tonight.
21
Meanwhile, on her way to the airport, Janet had called in at the hotel. She wanted to know more about Douglas’s arrangements.
Unfortunately, it was Mary she saw, with her usual vinegary face.
‘Is this you come back then?’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘Well, it should be. Everybody’s talking about you. Even Agnes and Jean.’
Janet had to smile. Agnes was ten, Jean eight. They had a more sensible attitude to most things than their prudish and bigoted mother.
‘And what are Agnes and Jean saying about me?’
‘It’s not funny, Janet. They keep asking what you’re doing at Ardnave in that dreadful man McAllister’s house.’
‘Did they call him dreadful? I thought they found him amusing. And what have you been telling them, Mary?’
‘What can I tell them? I don’t know what you’re doing.’
‘Next time they ask just tell them I cook his meals. They’re practical. They’ll see the sense of that. And it happens to be true. I don’t sleep with him. Yes, I know I went there with some such intention, to pay Douglas back, but I changed my mind. Anyway, I’ve got a chaperone now.’
‘Is that what you call her? We know about her. A big red-haired Australian. She’s married too. Bold and brazen, they say.’
‘She knew Angus years ago in Basah. Can’t people visit friends without the Kildonan gossips being bad-minded about it?’
‘Why isn’t her husband with her?’
‘He couldn’t get away.’
‘How long is she staying?’
‘She’s returning home next week. She’s eager to get back to her husband.’
‘Is that why she’s living with another man?’
‘It could be, Mary. Love’s a funny thing. That’s something I’ve learned in the past few days. But I came in to ask about Douglas. I suppose he’s staying here?’
‘He’s booked a double room for Saturday and Sunday. He’s flying back on Monday. He expects you to be going with him.’
‘Does he, now? We’ll have to see about that.’
‘David and I don’t want any more nonsense from you, Janet. We’re going to have to lie to protect you.’
‘Lie if you like. I intend to tell him the truth.’
‘Hasn’t it occurred to you that Douglas might go out to Ardnave and assault Mr McAllister?’
‘Yes, it has occurred to me. It has also occurred to Mr McAllister. He’s not too happy about it. Well, I’ll have to be going. I’ve to be at the airport to meet the plane.’
‘Why? Who are you expecting?’
‘Another friend of Angus’s.’
‘What sort of friend? A man or woman?’
‘A woman. From the Philippines. With her little girl.’
Mary’s mouth fell open in horror. ‘Are they black?’
‘Would it make any difference if they were?’ she asked, scornfully.
‘The girl, is McAllister her father?’
‘No, he isn’t. I might want to take Agnes and Jean out to Ardnave to meet her. I’m sure they’d love to come.’
‘You will do nothing of the kind, Janet Maxwell.’
‘I thought you were bringing them up to be Christians, Mary.’
‘So I am. That is why I won’t allow them to visit a house where a man is living with three married women.’
‘I’m sorry, Mary, but I’ll have to hurry.’
Hurry she did and was in good time for the plane. Among those who came off it were a tall dark-faced woman wearing a white skirt and blue coat and a small girl in a white coat and with a white ribbon in her hair.
If Nell had been there, dumbfounded, Janet would not have looked at her
in triumph. She had nothing to do with their coming. She had just foreseen it.
That was all she had foreseen. She did not know what was going to happen now.
PART TWO
1
As he checked in at Glasgow Airport on Saturday morning, Douglas Maxwell showed no sign of impatience or anxiety. This was not because as a four-handicap golfer he had learned to control such destructive emotions, but simply because he did not feel them. Mary McNaught, when she had telephoned, had urged him to come as soon as possible, hinting at imminent disaster. He supposed she had meant that Janet was sick with worry at having deserted him, which was how it should be, but his reading of the situation was that, the longer Janet worried, the less likely she was to run away again. She was being taught a lesson. When he went to bring her back, she would be sufficiently humble.
In the airport all those, and there were many, who glanced twice at him, sometimes thrice, were struck not by any dark foreboding on his face but by bright self-confidence. In the whole of Scotland that morning there was no more handsome, healthy, or optimistic young man. He wore a smart navy-blue blazer with the red-and-gold crest of the Thornwood Golf Club, a white silk shirt, a Glasgow University tie, light blue Daks, and shoes that had cost £95. Yesterday he had had his hair trimmed and styled, his moustache clipped, and his hands manicured, in a select establishment where the assistants were thinly clad young women who had vied with one another to attend to him. It was therefore no surprise or embarrassment to him when, as he handed over his golf bag to the stewardess behind the counter, she smiled at him with undiluted admiration. He was used to such homage, but since it was deserved he did not let it go to his head.
His gracious air was more admirable than the stewardess knew. As well as his clubs he was taking a little guilty secret with him to Flodday. Most men would have been shifty-looking because of it. Douglas had never looked shifty in his life, not even when Janet had caught him practising putting with Cissie McDade.
Poor Angus Page 11