by Joan Fleming
‘Wow,’ he said, looking around. ‘This is so beautiful.’
They began to walk along the beach, the soft white sand slipping over their shoes. All at once he stopped. ‘Take your shoes off,’ he said. ‘Then we can feel the sand on our feet.’
‘What?’
‘Just do it,’ he said.
Sitting on the sand, they took off their shoes. He tied the laces of his trainers together and hung them round his neck and Kirsty found herself doing the same. Holding hands, they set off again. And he was right. The sand, warmed by the sun, slid over their feet. The closer they were to the water, the colder the wind became, a contrast to the silken warmth of the sand. The whoosh of waves, gentle on the ear compared with the cawing of the seagulls, filled the air. Looking round the bay, Kirsty drank in the beauty of the scene: the Paps of Jura and the island of Colonsay in the distance, and little rocky islets nestling in the water, a foil to the vivid turquoise blue of the sea. Could there be a more stunning vista anywhere?
When the wind began to chill them, they retreated to a rocky sheltered spot, where they sat down to put their shoes on.
‘I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go away,’ Finn said, heading to his car.
Kirsty had no time to answer. She was suddenly alone on the beach, with only the seagulls for company. What if he drove away and abandoned her? There was probably no mobile signal here. She hardly knew him. All she had was his word on the reason for his visit to Mull.
‘Here we are,’ he said when he returned clutching a cool box.
Kirsty started to laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You. You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met. What’s in the box?’
‘A picnic,’ he said. ‘Smoked salmon sandwiches, a bottle of pinot grigio and cake.’ He handed her two white wine glasses and poured their drinks.
‘Where on earth did you assemble this?’ she asked.
‘I’d like to say I smoked the salmon myself, but I have to confess my landlady in the hotel prepared this for me.’
‘It’s delicious,’ she said.
‘Cosy up a bit closer,’ he said. ‘Just to keep warm.’
She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then inched along the sand towards him. Placing his back into the wind, he pulled her in, offering her the protection of his body. Once her back was resting on his chest, he wrapped his jacket round her. They continued to nibble their sandwiches and drink their wine, helping each other when their position made movement awkward. When they moved on to the cake–a chocolate sponge–he broke off small pieces and fed them to her with his fingers.
‘Mmm. That was delicious,’ Kirsty said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t I deserve a kiss?’
She turned to give him a quick peck on the cheek, before pulling away sharply. ‘Time we were heading back,’ she said.
‘I won’t bite, you know,’ he said.
She was saved the need to reply when the shout of a youngster heralded the arrival of a family at the beach.
‘Dad, it’s this way,’ he called.
Three children dashed onto the beach, heading for the water’s edge.
‘Be careful! Watch your sister!’ the mother shouted, starting to run to join the children.
But her husband held her back. ‘Leave them alone. It’s quite safe,’ he said.
Catching sight of the couple by the rocks, he added, ‘Grand day.’ Then, clearly addressing his words to Finn, said, ‘Women! They do like to fuss, don’t they?’ He rolled his eyes heavenward.
‘You’re right,’ Finn said, with all the gravitas of an experienced father. ‘Especially when it comes to the children.’
‘Still, I’d better catch up. If one of them falls into the water, I’ll never hear the end of it.’
Extricating herself from the unnatural position she’d put herself in when the family arrived, Kirsty started to gather up the remains of their picnic. Finn caught hold of her hand.
‘That was good,’ he said. ‘While it lasted.’
Aware of how flushed her face must be, Kirsty wasn’t sure how to answer. ‘It’s time we moved, anyway,’ she said. ‘I have a deadline to meet.’
On the drive back to Lochside, against a background of soft music on the radio, they said little. Kirsty was immersed in her own private thoughts, but she had no idea what Finn could be thinking. She had really enjoyed the afternoon, but her pleasure was overlaid by a feeling of guilt. It had been so easy to allow him to shield her from the wind. There was no harm in that, was there? It was only when she realised he meant to kiss her that she had come to her senses. That was no way for a married woman to behave. In spite of everything, she was still a married woman, and until such time as that status changed, she really didn’t want to do anything she would later regret.
For the whole afternoon, she’d been in the company of a man who made her feel wanted in spite of the scar on her face, something that had been absent in her life for some time.
As they approached Lochside, Finn turned down the radio.
‘I had a good time today,’ he said. He waited a moment, then added, ‘Did you?’
‘Yes. I had a good afternoon. That’s a lovely bay. Thank you for the outing–it was thoughtful of you to bring a picnic.’
‘I’m leaving the island tomorrow, but maybe we can meet up again? In Glasgow?’
Kirsty hesitated. ‘I’m not sure how long I’ll be here. I’m trying to arrange another contract, but I’ve no idea when, or even if that will happen.’
‘Where do you live in Glasgow?’
His direct question unsettled Kirsty. She could scarcely give this man, a comparative stranger, her address in Glasgow.
‘I don’t really have an address at the moment,’ she lied. ‘That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I’m in the process of moving, and I don’t know where I’ll end up.’
‘You could give me your mobile number. I had to call the Inn to contact you.’
‘Yes, I’ll do that when we arrive.’
If she did, it would mean she was making it possible to have a relationship with this man. A relationship outside marriage.
Deep down, she wanted to punish Adam for the way he was treating her, and Finn would provide her with an opportunity to do that. She tried to analyse the conflicting thoughts that were engaged in a struggle in her mind. An affair with Finn would prove to Adam–and to herself–that a good-looking young man found her attractive, in spite of her altered appearance. On the other hand, it would no doubt be the death knell of her marriage.
Was she ready to take that step?
Chapter 28
Amy was on the phone when Sandy arrived unexpectedly. Rachael, her friend from R&R in Glasgow, had called to pass on some gossip. Ever ready to hear the latest news, which she missed since she’d moved to the island, Amy was all ears.
‘It’s not official yet, but we’ve had a big increase in business over the last few months, and Raymond is thinking about taking on another accountant. He’s been asking questions about you: how you’re settling on the island–he never remembers which one–if your client base is increasing, if you managed to find someone to rent your flat… and so on. I suspect, if you were thinking of coming back, he might well offer you a job.’
‘Oh, Rachael, we live in interesting times, don’t we? I haven’t considered returning to Glasgow…’
‘I suspected that. That’s the reason I’m letting you know the situation; so that, if he makes an approach, you’ll have had time to think about it.’
‘Thanks for the heads-up, Rachael. Forewarned is forearmed.’
‘You could always approach him yourself. If you’re interested, of course. Then he might think of you as the answer to a fellow’s prayer.’
Amy laughed. ‘That, I doubt. But it’s worth giving it some thought.’
‘So how are things with you? And that Sandy McFarlane?’
‘Funny you should say that, Rachael. My friend, Sandy, has just arrived.
I’ll call you back later, and you can keep me up-to-date with what’s happening in your life.’
Putting down the handset, she turned to walk into Sandy’s arms.
‘Don’t let me interrupt,’ he said.
‘It’s fine. Just girl-chat. I’d much rather talk to you. It seems ages since we last had any time together.’
Sandy was kissing her as she spoke, little hello kisses. Nuzzling her.
‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘We were about to plan our escape from the island. You’re right. That seems so long ago now. Maybe, when big things happen in life, time takes on another dimension. Poor Mary. I hope she didn’t suffer out there in that bad weather.’
‘At least she had Bess with her. I could swear that dog has a sixth sense,’ Amy said.
‘Well, people round here believe Mary had a sixth sense. I’ve even heard she was the seventh child of a seventh child. It’s said they have psychic powers.’
‘And there’s not a single member of that family left now.’
‘I wonder what’ll happen to her house,’ Sandy mused.
‘It’s in pretty bad shape. I was there a long time ago with my aunt, and I don’t think it’s improved since then. I hope it doesn’t end up being torched, though. Like Flora Donaldson’s house.’
‘I’ve no doubt Duncan will give us information about it once he finds out.’
‘I was about to make coffee. Are you staying long, or is this a flying visit?’ Amy asked.
‘I can’t stay,’ he said. ‘I’m really busy. There’s a stomach virus doing the rounds at the moment. It’s hitting the children mainly, so I’m doing a lot of house calls. Dr Mackay’s gone down with it, too, though, so I’m on my own. But I was in Fionnphort and I couldn’t resist a quick hello.’
‘Before you go, what’s this “idea” you’ve had?’
‘Oh yes. Here it is. It looks as if we’re never going to manage to make arrangements to go away together to buy rings… with the eyes of the Ross of Mull on us. So… I think we should elope.’
‘WHAT?’
‘I think we should steal away and get married in a quiet ceremony in Glasgow. Or Gretna Green, if you prefer it. Then we will come back here as a married couple.’
‘But…’
‘If you’re going to say anything about white dresses and invitations and all the other folderols you women like for your wedding, you can arrange all that when we come back.’
Amy could do nothing but stare at him.
He kissed her swiftly, and left.
Amy was so taken aback by the suggestion, she flopped down on an armchair, forgetting to wave Sandy goodbye. An elopement! At their age! She laughed softly to herself. It was like something out of a Victorian romantic novel: the young couple desperate to be together, but unable to cement their relationship because of obstacles put in their way by strict parents. Although that didn’t exactly describe their situation, she knew Sandy was impatient; and since she was responsible for the delay, perhaps a snap decision was the solution.
The more she thought about the idea, the more she liked it.
Chapter 29
Kirsty was smiling when she arrived back at Lochside. Charlie was sitting on the bench in front of the building, enjoying the late afternoon sun. And smoking his pipe.
‘Charlie Ferguson, if Elsa saw you smoking that pipe, she’d murder you.’
‘Aye, lass. But she won’t see me. She’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner.’
‘I’m sure she can smell the smoke,’ Kirsty said.
‘Aye, right again, but she pretends she doesn’t know, and I don’t let on I know that; it keeps the peace. It’s like a game of keepie-uppie, keeping the football in the air–one of the games married people play,’ he said. ‘Oh lass, I’m sorry,’ he added. No doubt he suddenly remembered that Kirsty had problems in her marriage.
‘It’s all right, Charlie. No need to apologise. I’ve had a lovely afternoon, so I’m not too downhearted.’ She turned away swiftly, in case Charlie saw the glisten in her eyes.
‘Hello, dear. Did you have a good time?’ Elsa asked, as Kirsty walked into the kitchen.
‘Yes, thanks, Elsa. We went to Uisken beach. It was lovely there. The sun was shining, although there was a bit of a breeze.’
‘It’s a while since we’ve been there. We must go soon–it’s a beautiful spot. By the way, you had a visitor while you were out.’
‘Who was that?’
‘Adam.’
Kirsty could feel her heart racing. Trying to keep her voice level, she asked, ‘Did he say what he wanted?’
‘No, he didn’t say, but he asked if it would be convenient for him to call tomorrow afternoon.’
‘And what did you say, Elsa?’
‘I told him you were sometimes in, sometimes out in the afternoon. The best plan was for him to phone here this evening. I’m not sure if he will, though. Was that the right thing to do?’
‘Yes, of course, Elsa. I don’t want to involve you in my problems. He has no right arriving here unannounced.’
‘Maybe he thinks that’s the only way you’ll see him. Why don’t you arrange to meet him, hear what he has to say, then decide what to do about him after that?’
‘Perhaps you’re right, Elsa. The sooner we have a proper discussion, the clearer we’ll be on where we go from here.’
‘Maybe he’s beginning to realise how his actions have affected you?’
‘Or maybe he wants a divorce.’ There was more than a hint of bitterness in Kirsty’s voice. ‘But thanks, Elsa. I’ll see what he has to say when he phones. If he phones.’
It was almost nine o’clock when the phone rang. Charlie had gone upstairs to have an early night, and once they’d cleared up after dinner, Kirsty and Elsa settled down to sip a glass of wine.
‘Why don’t you answer it, dear?’ Elsa said. ‘Take it in the lounge. It’s more private there.’
It was, as expected, Adam on the line.
‘Hello, Kirsty. Did Elsa tell you I called at Lochside this afternoon?’
‘Yes, she did.’
‘You were out,’ he said.
‘Yes.’ She knew she wasn’t making the call easy for him, but why should she?
After a pause, Adam continued. ‘Kirsty, we need to talk.’
‘Isn’t it a bit late for that?’
‘Please, dear. Just give me the chance to… to explain. Once you’ve heard what I have to say, I’ll get out of your life. For good, if that’s what you want.’
‘So, what are you suggesting?’
‘Can we meet tomorrow afternoon?’
‘All right. Come and pick me up at three o’clock. For an hour.’
‘Thanks, Kirsty. I’ll be outside the inn at three. I’ll see you then. Bye.’
‘Bye.’
* * *
The following afternoon, Kirsty heard a car draw up shortly before three o’ clock. She was nervous. Having slept badly, she’d been on edge all morning, jumping at every little noise, putting cutlery and crockery away in the wrong place. What was Adam going to say?
Part of her, though, was relieved that she would finally know where she stood. In a strange way, the encounter with Finn had proved to her that there could be a life after Adam. She knew there was nothing serious in it, but she had enjoyed his company. On the other hand, in spite of everything she still loved Adam. At least, she thought she did.
When she approached his car, Adam came round to hold the passenger door open for her. An upsurge of emotion all but overwhelmed her as she sat down in the passenger seat. The scent of her own perfume wafted over her, bringing back so many memories. It was familiar, but foreign, too. Almost as if it was reminding her that she perhaps no longer had the right to be there. Clutching her hands into fists, she fought to regain control. She wanted to face Adam as his equal, not from the inferior position of a neglected wife.
‘Do you mind where we go?’ he asked her. His voice shook a little, making Kirsty realise he was as nervou
s as she was.
‘No. But don’t linger here. Drive away quickly.’
He started the engine, but stalled at his first attempt to drive off. He headed in the direction of Fionnphort. ‘Would you like to go for a drink? Or find somewhere quiet?’ he asked.
‘Find somewhere,’ Kirsty answered. ‘We might meet someone if we go for a drink.’
‘So you don’t want to be seen with me?’ he asked, his voice tight.
‘I don’t want to use the hour talking to other people. Just find somewhere to stop and tell me what you have to say.’
They drove on until they came to a turning on the road, where they stopped at a grassy clearing.
‘Will this do?’ he asked
‘Yes. It’s fine.’
Adam rushed round from the driver’s side to hold the door open. Kirsty smiled. The uncharacteristic attention he was paying her would have made her laugh out loud if their situation hadn’t been so important.
‘So,’ she asked, ‘why have you come back here?’
Chapter 30
‘Kirsty,’ Adam began, sounding far from confident. ‘Now I’m here, I hardly know where to start.’
Taking pity on him in spite of her feelings of resentment, she asked, ‘What made you decide to spend the summer in London? To cancel all our plans?’
‘You make it sound so clinical, Kirsty. It wasn’t like that.’
‘So, tell me what it was like.’
He took a deep breath before he spoke.
‘It was the accident. Everything was fine between us until the accident.’ He stopped for a moment, seeming unsure of where to go from there. He held a handkerchief, which he twisted constantly between his fingers. At last he appeared to find the courage to go on.
‘I know how unhappy you were… with… what happened to your face, but I didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t talk to me about it…’