Spirit of the Island

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Spirit of the Island Page 13

by Joan Fleming

‘What was there to say?’

  He turned a little to look her in the eye, but she continued to stare straight ahead.

  ‘That’s the point. There was nothing to say. I had damaged your lovely face, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.’

  ‘You–’

  ‘Please, Kirsty. Hear me out. I’ve watched you for six months doing everything you could to hide that scar. Rearranging your hair, covering it with make-up. You even tried to hide it from me.’

  ‘Well, you couldn’t bear to look me in the face, could you, Adam?’

  ‘What do you mean by that? You were the one who didn’t want me to look at you. Can you imagine what that feels like, Kirsty? I began to think you wanted me out of your life altogether after what I’d done to you. Maybe you’d met someone else… someone who wouldn’t involve you in an accident…’

  ‘Adam, I can’t listen to any more of this. Remember where this started: you cancelled a holiday we’d arranged and chose to spend the summer at the other end of the country instead. Then you went off in high dudgeon because I wasn’t pleased about it. And you were out of contact for more than three weeks. That doesn’t sound to me like a man interested in his marriage. Tell me straight, Adam. Do you want a divorce?’ Kirsty could feel the tension rising inside her as their discussion became more heated.

  ‘I don’t believe you said that. A divorce? Me? Of course I don’t want a divorce. Why do you think I’ve been working away from home? Taking every chance I’ve had of earning extra money?’

  ‘You’re the only one who can answer that, Adam.’

  He leant forward and put his head in his hands. The humming of bees somewhere behind them exaggerated the silence between them. When Adam spoke again, his voice was low, sounding almost weary.

  ‘About three months ago, I realised that the scar on your face was turning you into a different person. You no longer smiled. You appeared to have lost interest in life altogether.’ He paused, giving a long sigh. ‘I was desperate. I knew it was because of the scar and I was responsible for causing it, but I’d no idea what I could do. Then one day, I looked up the internet and I discovered there’s a plastic surgeon in the States who specialises in improving the appearance of scar tissue. The trouble is it’s really expensive, and by the time we’d add on travel, it would cost more than we could afford. That’s when I decided to take all the extra work I was offered, to see if I could raise the money to take you to America for treatment…’

  Kirsty didn’t hear what he said next. Her mind was buzzing as she tried to re-order her thoughts. So that’s why Adam was so keen to work away from home.

  Suddenly she felt ashamed. Tears ran slowly down her face as she came to terms with what her husband had just told her. How could she have doubted him?

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’ she asked, her voice gentle now.

  ‘I tried, many times, but you refused to discuss anything to do with the accident. I had the impression you wanted to bottle the whole experience up inside you, to forget it happened. But you couldn’t forget. You were reminded every time you looked in the mirror.’

  Kirsty became aware that her fingers were on her face once more, tracing the scar from top to bottom. She’d stopped the habit since she came to Mull. Was it because she was sitting next to Adam? All these months, had she been trying to hide her scar from him?

  ‘What are you thinking, Kirsty? Please tell me how you feel. I’m not prepared to let our marriage fall apart without trying to mend broken fences. Do you feel the same way?’

  ‘To be honest with you, Adam, I don’t know how I feel. I really thought what you decided to do this summer was the beginning of the end. I made up my mind you no longer loved me with this face–’

  ‘Don’t say another word!’

  Kirsty jumped. Adam’s voice seemed to boom against the low rock face in front of them and resonate back to where they were sitting.

  ‘How can you possibly think that? The scar on your face makes no difference at all to me. Except that I feel guilty it happened when I was driving. To suggest that an accident would change how I feel about you makes me sound like some sort of… some sort of shallow good-for-nothing. Kirsty, I love you. I love your face, with or without that scar. I love everything about you. Surely you realise that?’

  ‘So why do you want to spend so much time away from me?’ Kirsty asked.

  ‘Is that what you really think? That I spend time away because I’ve fallen out of love with you?’

  ‘That’s the way it seems to me.’

  Adam gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘I’ve told you why I’m working away from home. It’s to earn more money to try to put a smile back on your face. Do you realise that, Kirsty? You’ve forgotten how to smile.’

  ‘Maybe I’ve had nothing to smile about…’

  ‘I’ve known for some time that you weren’t happy. I wondered if you’d met someone else, if you were having an affair.’

  Kirsty made to interrupt, but he held up his hand, palm towards her. ‘No, please listen. I want you to understand.’ His voice was soft. Was he the one who was hurting now?

  He swallowed hard, then continued.

  ‘I’ve been so miserable since I left to go to London. I wanted to take back all the horrible things I said to you. I think about you morning, noon and night; I lie awake in bed working out schemes to lure you back to me. I can’t live without you, Kirsty, and I’m here to ask you if you’ll help me to patch up our marriage.’

  He looked at her expectantly, waiting for a response. Kirsty was still trying to take in what he’d said. Was he right? Had she been so concerned with her appearance, she’d forgotten how to love?

  ‘Why didn’t you sit down with me and discuss this, instead of trying to fix things on your own?’ she said at last.

  ‘Would you have listened?’

  ‘I don’t know. Possibly not. But don’t you think it would have been fairer to give it a try?’ she asked.

  ‘Looking back, yes, of course. But you weren’t the only one frayed at the edges, Kirsty.’

  ‘I was afraid we’d go into meltdown,’ she said.

  When he took hold of her hand, her initial reaction was to pull away from him, but she let her hand rest where it was. He stroked her fingers, one by one, ending on her wedding ring finger.

  ‘There are grooves here from your rings,’ he said. ‘What have you done with them? Thrown them into the Clyde?’

  ‘A tempting thought,’ she said. ‘But no. I left them at home. Our relationship was in tatters; I was so angry… I saw no point in wearing them.’

  ‘Here’s a strange thing,’ he said, trying to catch her eye, although she refused to hold his gaze. ‘At no time have I thought of myself as being unmarried.’

  ‘You were the one–’

  ‘I know, I know. There’s no logic to this, Kirsty. You’re so determined. Once you have an idea in your head, it takes a bulldozer to shift it. You’ve drifted away, my love. Please come back to me.’ He stretched out his hand to her once more, and this time she didn’t pull back.

  He gradually moved his hand up her arm, a stronger hold now as he tried to pull her closer, make her look into his eyes. ‘I’ve been thinking at times that I’m not the right man for you. But there’s never been a moment when I thought I had chosen the wrong woman. You’ve always been the only one for me.’

  Trying desperately not to give in to the tears she could barely control, Kirsty took a deep breath. Gently extricating her arm from his grasp, she looked straight ahead, struggling to put her feelings in order. It would be easy to fall into his arms, to pretend the last six months had been a bad dream, and they could wake up and resume normality. But what was ‘normality’? The picture Adam painted? Or the relationship she had assumed was theirs?

  ‘Do you still love me?’ Adam’s question cut into her thoughts.

  ‘I really can’t answer that right now. At times, I think I hate you.’

  ‘Have you missed me?�
��

  ‘That’s not a fair question. I’ve been trying not to.’

  ‘Have you met someone else? Like that fellow you were with at Lochside when I called?’

  ‘Adam, you have no right to know anything about what I’ve been doing since you left. I couldn’t even contact you on your mobile. And you didn’t call me.’

  ‘So that means yes, I suppose.’

  He looked so wretched, Kirsty’s resolve to stay aloof was weakening.

  ‘I didn’t say that. Finn’s just a friend. So why didn’t you call me?’

  He smiled. Looked a bit sheepish. ‘I dropped my mobile.’

  ‘Dropped it?’

  ‘Yes. Into a cement mixer.’

  ‘A cement…’ but she couldn’t finish.

  Their laughter broke the tension between them. Adam recovered first. ‘I had no way of contacting you, Kirsty. All my numbers were stored in my phone. I tried to call Freda, but her number’s ex-directory.’

  ‘But shouldn’t you still be in London?’

  ‘The job’s on hold at the moment because there’s been a late objection to the planning permission. We’ve no idea how long that’ll take to resolve. That’s why I’ve been able to come to Mull.’

  He stood up, offering her a hand to help her join him.

  ‘Come on. You said an hour, and we’ve been away longer than that already. I don’t want to add anything else to my list of crimes.’

  Once again, he held the car door open for her. Before he started the engine, he leant over her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, and took a small box from the glove compartment.

  ‘When I last saw you, I noticed you weren’t wearing your rings. Will you accept this–I’m not asking you to wear it, although I hope you will. If you decide we might still have a future together?’

  Although she had an idea what the box would contain, she was totally unprepared for the beauty of the ring. It was a circle of tiny sapphires, interspersed with baby pearls. Even in the restricted light of the car, it gleamed, catching a ray from the sun that sidled round the gathering clouds.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured. But she couldn’t accept it.

  ‘An eternity ring,’ he said. ‘My promise for our future together. Would you think about wearing it, at least until you come to a decision?’

  She quickly closed the ring box. From force of habit, she turned to look at him. About to hand the box back to him, she caught the look in his eyes; deep brown eyes, one of the first things that attracted her to him.

  As if he spotted her intention, he held onto her wrist. ‘Don’t give it back to me, Kirsty. It’s not a bribe. Call it a declaration of intent. And also, if I’m honest, a way of warding off any guys that get their eye on you. Should you choose to wear it, that is.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘No promises. I’ll think about what you’ve said.’

  * * *

  That evening, once dinner was over, Kirsty went up to her room. Although she knew Elsa was desperate to hear about what had transpired between them during the afternoon, she hadn’t asked Kirsty any questions.

  In the privacy of her bedroom, she opened the box containing the ring. Oh, Adam had chosen well. It was a stunning piece of jewellery, the small stones and pearls reflecting Kirsty’s taste. She slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. It fitted perfectly. Wondering how he had achieved that, she recalled their visit to the jeweller’s to buy her engagement and wedding rings. Perhaps Adam had returned to the same shop, and the jeweller had kept a note of her sizes?

  She tried the ring on other fingers, but there was only one where it sat perfectly: her ring finger. Was this a sign for the future?

  Chapter 31

  Kirsty knew she had a hard decision to make. No matter how often she went over the pros and cons of accepting Adam’s proposal to try again, she felt she was going round in circles, unable to reach a conclusion. It would be good to talk to someone about it. She had tried to contact Freda, her friend in Edinburgh, but with no success. Since it had been Freda’s suggestion that Kirsty come to Mull after her serious quarrel with Adam–she would really be the best person to offer advice.

  Why was Freda not answering her calls? Kirsty had left voicemails on her house phone and her mobile, with no response. At times, she had wondered if Freda had told Adam where she was. Or had he known himself that this island would be the place she would seek refuge in her hour of need?

  On an impulse, she called Amy.

  ‘Hello, Amy. It’s Kirsty. Are you snowed under with work? Or have you an hour to spare for a chat?’

  ‘Why don’t you come tomorrow? Pop over about three o’clock. I generally stop then for a cup of tea.’

  Perhaps a chat with Amy would help her to see things more clearly.

  * * *

  As she drove over to Columb Cottage the following afternoon, Kirsty was filled once more with the desire to have a foothold on the island. Elsa was delightful, but she wouldn’t need Kirsty to help in the restaurant much longer, now that Charlie seemed to be making a good recovery. He’d received satisfactory results from all his tests so far, which meant he should be back on his feet within a week or two.

  It would be wonderful to have somewhere here to call her own, a base from which to enjoy all that the island had to offer: beautiful scenery, a healthy climate, and a douce pace of life that was in stark contrast to the bustle of the city. Besides, there was an intangible atmosphere here–although she found it difficult to put that additional quality into words, Kirsty was certain that it existed.

  ‘Come in,’ Amy said when she arrived, dropping a kiss on her friend’s cheek. ‘The kettle’s on.’

  Armed with cups of tea and hot, buttered pancakes, the two women settled down to talk. Knowing Amy’s time was precious, Kirsty came straight to the point.

  ‘I had a visit from Adam yesterday,’ she said. ‘He wants us to get back together again.’

  Amy widened her eyes. ‘Were you expecting him? Did he contact you first?’

  ‘He arrived out of the blue about ten days ago. We had a stilted conversation, and I more or less sent him packing,’ Kirsty said. ‘Then he came back. He called the day before yesterday, and spoke to Elsa. I was out, so he asked if he could phone in the evening–which he did–and I agreed to see him yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We had a long talk, and he gave his reasons for being away so much. Apparently, he’s been trying to earn enough money to take me to America to have my scar treated by a plastic surgeon.’

  ‘And you knew nothing about this?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘Did you ask?’

  Kirsty got up from her seat and started to walk around the room. She was becoming restless as she tried to put her thoughts in order.

  ‘No. I suppose I should have done…’

  ‘Kirsty, will you stop pacing up and down, you’re making my head spin. Come and sit down again, and tell me the rest.’

  ‘There’s not much else to tell. When he was on the building site in London, his mobile fell out of his pocket–into a cement mixer.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Yes. A cement mixer…’

  ‘Well, that’s a new excuse for not phoning,’ Amy said, laughing.

  ‘It’s not so funny, Amy. I tried to contact him for nearly a week. His mobile was completely dead.’

  ‘Small wonder, Kirsty. Finding a signal in a cement mixer can’t have been easy…’

  ‘Oh, don’t mock, Amy. It’s not funny,’ Kirsty said, but then she joined in with Amy’s laughter.

  ‘Okay, I agree, but it’s not the stuff that marriage break-ups are made of. Aren’t you over-reacting a bit, Kirsty?’

  ‘Possibly. If he hadn’t cancelled the cruise…’

  ‘But he couldn’t be in two places at once, Kirsty. If he wanted to earn the money to take you to America, he had no choice.’

  ‘I can see that now. But why didn’t he tel
l me the reason he was doing it?’

  ‘It sounds as if he tried, but you refused to listen.’

  ‘Do you think he still loves me, Amy?’ Kirsty asked, her voice low. She was afraid of the answer, but she needed someone to reassure her.

  ‘Only you can tell, Kirsty. But I think you have to give him the chance to prove that to you–one way or the other. Do you still love him?’

  ‘That’s what I don’t really know. I’ve been trying to harden myself against him; to build up my defences so that I can never be hurt like that again. It’s difficult to extract love from that picture.’

  ‘And that’s what you would lose if you were to go back to him?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, Amy, what would you do in my place? Would you go back?’

  ‘No-one can tell you what to do, Kirsty. It has to be your decision. My aunt once told me what she thought was the best way to make up your mind. Think about how you’ll feel after you decide. If you say no, will you be sure that was for the best? Or will you always wonder if you should have given it a chance?’

  ‘And if I say yes?’

  ‘You may congratulate yourself on making the best decision of your life. Or you may be bitter, because you realise you should have said no.’

  The two women sat for a while, each with her own thoughts until Kirsty stood up and put her arms round her friend. ‘Thank you, Amy. That’s helped me to sort out my thoughts a bit. I’ll sleep on it, and see how I feel in the morning.’

  ‘Don’t be in too much of a hurry to give Adam his answer. You have the rest of your life ahead of you. You’ll never know for sure. There must be some risk attached to no as well as to a yes answer.’

  Kirsty stood up. ‘I’ve kept you off your work long enough. Thanks for the tea and pancakes. And for being a sounding block. I think you’ve helped me to save my marriage.’

  As Kirsty drove back to Lochview, her spirits rose. Amy’s level-headed thinking had sorted out the twisted mess of her problems to some extent.

  Chapter 32

  After dinner that evening, Kirsty and Elsa sat in the lounge chatting. It had become a habit; with Charlie heading for bed early, the two women were able to talk about matters that would not have interested him.

 

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