“Definitely. It’s pointless being here. I’m using Dad’s phone so call me if you hear anything. I’m heading off with Louis, not sure where yet.” I looked Max in the eye. “If I’m out of range leave a message, and I’ll call you back.”
Max looked vulnerable, and it made me feel protective of him despite our disagreements. “We have to get her back.” I said. “This can’t go on, can it?”
Max pulled me up and held me close. “This will test us Kat, beyond anything we’ve ever faced before.” He kissed me on the cheek, turned away, and moments later I heard the front door slam.
His small gesture gave me renewed hope. Yes, it felt like a test, and I wasn’t going to let it break me, at least not yet.
Like every other morning I drew back the blinds and inspected the sky. The weather looked disappointing; it wouldn’t help the search. Swollen clouds hung over the house, with Applecross barely visible on the far side of the glen. It hadn’t rained yet, but I watched the mist rolling down the hill and around the house and knew that rain was imminent. Blast it, poor visibility was going to be a real hindrance.
I felt drained suddenly and sat on the bed. My stomach complained, my eyes felt heavy, and every part of me ached. Mum stared out of the window, and I reflected on her words. She was right, she had noticed something about Max, and I couldn’t ignore it. Mum had detected an underlying change that I’d hardly dared to admit to myself, to avoid confrontation with Max. There was something odd about his secretive behaviour.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Foundations - 1999
A mountain of cardboard boxes, bin liners, and carrier bags stretched the length of the hallway, and left only a thin strip of tiled floor through which to enter and leave the flat. Unlike Rosie, I hadn’t got rid of much as I didn’t own anywhere near as many clothes as she did. I’d even held onto some of my baggy old jumpers that had seen better days. I reasoned that I’d need them even more now that the middle of winter had set in, and anticipating the much harsher conditions I was about to find myself in.
“That’s it, the sum total of my worldly possessions packed, meter readings taken, toilet flushed,” I said, as I surveyed the heap from the kitchen doorway.
I had no regrets to be leaving behind my digs of three years and my beloved Strathclyde University to start a new life with Max way up north.
Six days previously, we had signed the contract and purchased a two-acre plot of land on the stunning lower slopes of Benn Cady, way up in the Highlands, and a few miles inland of the North West coast. Max must have done his research as it was only the second plot we’d looked at. The first plot – located in an incredible setting at the foot of a hill, was on the edge of a loch. We quickly discovered the marshy land was often flooded, and we knew that would be a step too far for his first building project.
“Besides, being so close to the water, the midges will drive us crazy and keep us caged up indoors,” Max said, and swiped madly at the thousands of tiny critters that amassed around us.
Ten weeks ago, late in October, we journeyed into the Highlands, and turned onto a steep and bumpy track at the base of Benn Cady. I gazed out of the car window in awe at the beauty that surrounded us. As I stepped out of the car, I heard the haunting call of a bird of prey and I looked up and spotted an eagle that circled the air above us.
I tugged Max’s coat sleeve and pointed. The eagle then spotted something and it dived and came to land on a rock a short distance away. The bird remained there for several minutes and boldly eyed us, unafraid, before it unfurled its huge, beautiful wings and soared in silence back up the mountain. We watched it until it became a tiny black smudge that vanished into a cloud and out of sight.
Max took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as we walked along a sheep path through the bracken and heather. I had never been a stranger to the stunning landscapes of the north, but I saw it anew with the possibility that this could be our view every day. The seasons had transitioned - Autumn russets and buttery yellows mingled with olive greens and emerald shades that lingered and created the most amazing kaleidoscopic spectacle.
The plot, despite being on an incline, looked sufficiently even, and Max, with his architect’s eye said a recent ground survey showed it was devoid of too many invasive rocks that could make laying the foundations difficult. I noticed the track was solid enough for vehicle access and appeared adequate to accommodate the trucks needed to deliver the wood for the all-important frame and other building materials.
I gazed out across the glen and wondered why such a beautiful plot hadn’t already been snapped up. “Is it really for sale? And there’s planning permission to build?”
“It is,” he said. “Apparently, the owner has secured planning for a five-bed house. Got some plans drawn up but then decided to sell the land on. I couldn’t find out why, but I’ve checked it all out, and there’s definitely building permission. I’ll need to submit my designs, but as we’ll be using local labour and materials as much as we can, and it’s got so many renewable energy features, I honestly can’t see it being a problem. Plus, the guy I spoke to in the planning department seemed pretty confident.” He grabbed me around the waist, pulled me to him, and our breaths merged to form one cloud.
“So whaddya reckon?” He gazed at me, his face alive with excitement.
“I can’t believe it, Max. And I can’t imagine a more idyllic place for us to live. Let’s do it.”
And we kissed long and slowly, our chilly lips warming. I marvelled at the speed my life had changed and I felt excited. Finally, we drew back, and I saw that his eyes brimmed with tears. My gaze ran over his face, taking in the smooth skin, yet strongly defined features. With my thumb, I brushed away a solitary tear that slid down his cheek. The moment felt like a new beginning. The beginning of an incredible dream.
In the New Year we loaded all of our possessions into Max’s Volvo Estate, bought to tow the enormous caravan that would double up as our home and site office. We’d spent the past few weeks talking late into the night as we planned the build; what materials to use and which building contractors to hire, but most of all we romanticised about the things we would do when we were not busy working.
The budget for the build appeared to be less of a matter for debate as Max assured me he had it all under control, and was happy to see to that side of things.
“Both our names are on the deeds,” he reassured me.
It was his money, so I didn’t feel I had grounds to push for too many details. Max wanted to build his business, and I wanted to apply for jobs up there. I had compiled a list of environmental concern companies and agencies in the area, posted out letters and CV’s, and made numerous phone calls in my bid to find the right job.
“You needn’t worry about finding a job straightaway Kat, you can always help me with the business and the build, and it’s not like we’re desperate for the money is it?” Max drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “And don’t take any old job. You want decent hours and not too much driving.”
“I know, but I want a career too, and I haven’t done my degree for nothing. I’ve dreamed about conserving our environment, especially Scotland’s environment. You know how important it is to me.”
The car radio blared out some hideous heavy metal garbage, and I switched channels. I knew I’d sounded harsh, but I’d found his comments condescending. Max didn’t bite back, and I found another radio channel. Psycho Killer by Talking Heads filled the car.
I started to sing along and tap my feet.
“Psycho killer, qu’est-ce que c’est,
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away.”
“I get that,” he said. “I just don’t want you to feel under any pressure, at least not from me.” He reached over for my hand, lifted it to his lips and planted soft kisses, which made me feel guilty for sounding ungrateful and selfish.
When we arrived on our exposed plot of land, I quickly realised mid-winte
r wasn’t the best time of year to start the build. At times I worried that in the fierce winds the caravan might roll down the hill with us asleep in it. As the days passed we realised the building wouldn’t be anywhere near as straightforward as we had imagined, and for the first few weeks the ground remained frozen or snow covered for days on end, which left the hired digger out of a job, and progress on the build non-existent.
But we took advantage of it and lazed in bed. Sometimes we listened as the snow whispered to us as it fell on the caravan roof.
“He says it’s Katriina’s turn to be on top,” said Max.
“Actually, she’s saying Max will have to kiss Katriina from lips to toes first.” I laughed and tweaked his nipple.
One evening, towards the end of February, fresh snow had fallen, and although it was no more than a few inches deep, we’d had to leave the car down on the road, as the track was impassable. We’d bought in provisions, were all set to hide away for the weekend, and with plenty of time on our hands, we discussed wedding dates and possible venues.
“We should find out when your parents can come over Max. I know it’s harder for them, and we can’t set a date until we know when is good for them.”
I still hadn’t met his parents, and again I’d sensed resistance from Max when I’d suggested we go over to Dublin to visit. His excuse seemed just that, an excuse. I couldn’t imagine not wanting Max to meet my parents, and I felt frustrated with him, but became increasingly curious.
The next morning, he went to fetch some drawings from the car. I jumped at the opportunity, turned on his phone and looked in his contacts for his parent’s number. I soon found it, jotted it down, and resolved to ring them soon. I assumed Max had told them about me and they were curious to meet me. After all, we were engaged to be married.
On this occasion the snow didn’t last for more than a couple of days. The builders returned to site, Max directed them, and I pursued job opportunities.
One afternoon I felt upbeat as I’d set up a meeting with the Director of Highlands Protection who needed a management trainee for the region. The fresh burst of confidence persuaded me to call Max’s parents. Parked up in the middle of town I dialled the number. It rang for a good thirty seconds, and I was about to hang up when someone answered.
“Hello,” a woman spoke with a soft Irish accent.
“Hello, is that Mrs O’Donnell?”
“Yes, it is.” Her voice sounded warm.
“I’m Katriina, Max’s girlfriend… I mean fiancé.” I paused. “I’ve been feeling bad that I haven’t managed to meet up with you yet.”
“How lovely to speak to you, Katriina. Max has told me so much about you. Not that you’d got engaged though, or I’d have insisted that he bring you over to see me. When did you get engaged?”
“Oh, a little while ago. We’ve been talking about dates for the wedding, but I said we must check with you both first.” I heard shouting and looked out of the window to see two teenage boys kicking a football.
A long pause followed.
“Are you still there, Mrs O’Donnell?”
“Yes my dear. I can come anytime. I wouldn’t dream of missing the wedding. You go ahead and set the date.”
“What about Max’s dad, will he be OK for any date too?”
“I’m sorry, but hasn’t Max told you? His daddy won’t be able to come to the wedding.”
“No, he hasn’t,” I said.
“I’m afraid Brian’s unable to leave Dublin right now. But I know he’ll be thrilled about the wedding. Set the date. I’ll be there, and Max’s cousins would love to come too.”
It would have been logical for me to ask her why Brian couldn’t leave Dublin, but I detected her hesitant voice and held back. As this was the first time we had spoken, I wanted to make a good impression, which didn’t include being nosey or insensitive. So instead I said how good it was to have spoken and that we’d be in touch soon with a date for the wedding.
After I’d hung up, I wondered why Max hadn’t mentioned his dad couldn’t leave Ireland. Was he housebound, or ill? I also felt upset that she hadn’t known about the engagement. My entire family knew all about it within hours of Max’s proposal.
That evening as we tucked into paella and were onto our second bottle of Pinot Noir, I spoke up.
“Oh, I know what I meant to tell you. I rang your parents to talk about wedding dates as I know it’s not that easy for them to come over.”
His body instantly tensed and he blinked several times in succession.
“Where did you get their number?” He snapped a langoustine in half, and visibly struggled to remain composed.
“I phoned Directory Enquiries,” I said, and crossed my legs under the foldout table.
He put the langoustine in his mouth and chewed slowly. A deep frown formed.
The wind batted the caravan, and now and then it shuddered and rattled in the stronger gusts.
“Anyway, I spoke to your mum, she sounds lovely by the way, and she said she could come over anytime.”
Max glowered at me, and breathed in sharply.
“Though she did say your dad wouldn’t be able to come. Is he OK Max, you didn’t tell me he couldn’t travel?” I chewed my lip and suddenly regretted making the call.
He carefully placed his fork onto his plate. “Didn’t I? If you must know, he’s agoraphobic, has been for a couple of years. It came on after he was made redundant.” He flicked a speck of something off his sleeve.
“That’s awful. We should go and see him if he can’t travel here.” I felt uncomfortable, and Max squirmed in his seat.
Max fell silent and his eyes closed for a few moments.
“Max, why didn’t you tell her we were engaged? She didn’t know.” I went in for the kill. “I hope you’re not going to tell me she’s got a memory like a bloody goldfish.”
He stood up quickly; his long legs knocked the table, and his dinner plate hurtled across and crashed into mine.
“What the bloody hell do you think you were doing ringing Mam without asking me first?” His face and neck flushed red.
I’d never seen Max lose his temper and my heart raced.
I slid off the bench and backed away. “You kept saying I would meet your parents but you didn’t arrange anything, and I thought it was too important to ignore. So rather than keep going on about it I thought I’d save you the trouble.”
“Oh you did, did you?” His voice became vicious. “And how would you feel if I rang your parents out of the blue without bothering to mention it first?”
“To be honest, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, and I can’t see why you have. Mum and Dad would love it if you rang them unexpectedly.” I moved to stand by the door. “Perhaps you should be asking yourself why I called them in the first place. If you weren’t so cagey about your family, I wouldn’t have needed to.”
“I’ve never been cagey,” he barked. “I just don’t feel the need to tell you every detail about them, unlike you who can never shut up about how wonderful your parents are. It’s not even bloody normal. Most people I know never stop moaning about their parents. I get sick of hearing about your feckin’ perfect mam and dad, it makes me wanna puke.” His mouth was screwed up, full with anger.
His face looked unrecognisable.
“You should have told me before. And I’m so sorry, I had no idea that being nice about my parents was something that would piss you off so much. I probably go on about them hoping you might be a bit more open about yours. Clearly, that hasn’t worked, and I’ve resorted to sneaking about behind your back.”
Max looked straight past me, his anger faded and his face fell. He looked suddenly sad and deflated. “I don’t know who you are,” he said. “I thought we loved one another.”
He snatched his coat from the sofa, barged past me and stormed out of the caravan. The door banged behind him.
I flung the door open, but a gust of icy wind slammed it back in my face. I grabbed my coat and ran out
side. I rounded the end of the caravan and heard the car engine revving, and then he was away down the track. As I pulled my coat tightly about me I watched the Volvo’s rear lights until they disappeared into the night.
I knew he’d tried to make me feel guilty, and it had worked. And saying he didn’t know me, that was ironic given the argument had arisen because I wanted to get to know him and his family better. I had always shared stuff with him, how I felt and telling him little snippets of things that happened to me during my day when we were apart. He was often quiet and evasive or simply announced things rather than talking stuff through with me first.
My appetite had vanished, so I cleared away the dinner plates and mopped up the mess. This had been our first proper argument, and it made me sick with worry. Anxiety fired piercing daggers through me, and I was terrified that I’d pushed him too far, that he might end all of this… us. I knew he was angry, but why run away rather than sort it out? I felt progressively more miserable as the minutes passed, but I had no option other than to wait. Daylight had departed - so had the car.
After an hour, I rang his mobile, but he didn’t answer. I flopped back onto the sofa bench and picked up my book The Catcher in the Rye, but after only a couple of paragraphs I realised now wasn’t the best time to read it. I turned on the stereo and put on our favourite Stone Roses CD, but as I listened the music only made me miss him more. As one hour became two and two hours became three, fear crept back in. I didn’t mind being stuck in the middle of nowhere, alone, but instead I worried about Max and where he had disappeared to. I imagined what he would say or do when he got back, assuming he would be back. Later I figured time would pass more quickly if I went to bed and slept. I left the lamp on for company.
I lay back, eyes wide and staring at the dimly lit plastic panels, and ran through our argument for the umpteenth time. The sound of a car drifted from outside. I knew it was Max, and I turned over and closed my eyes to show him that his paddy hadn’t bothered me enough to keep me awake.
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