If Love Be Love

by Flora Kidd

  They all moved down the path to the exit as Rod said diffidently,

  ‘Well, it won’t be exactly comfort. It’ll be a bit of a squeeze with five of us.’

  Anya pushed a hand through the crook of his arm and laughed up at him. ‘Who cares? I rather like a squeeze,’ she said. ‘With the right people.’

  They reached the roadway. Nancy could see Logan walking up the hill in the direction of the town and she came to a sudden decision.

  ‘I won’t come with you to the hotel, Rod. I’ll go and help Logan look for Neil. One person looking isn’t enough.’

  As she started up the hill she heard him say,

  ‘But, Nancy, where shall we...’

  The rest of his words were drowned in the noise of a passing car. No one came after her to stop her. All the walking she had done at Lanmore had put her in good condition and she took the steep slope easily.

  When she reached the top Logan was standing on the edge of the pavement looking lonely and rather desperate as if trying to decide what to do next.

  ‘I’ll help you,’ Nancy said at his elbow. He looked at her silently. Rain ran from his hair down his nose and dripped off the end of it.

  ‘You don’t have to. I can manage,’ he replied distantly.

  ‘Oh, stop being silly and ... and uppity, Logan Maclaine !’ she snapped. ‘Have you any plan, or any idea where he might be?’

  ‘None. All I know is that when Anya said she didn’t want to go back on the boat, he objected and said he intended to go back that way. It was because of him that we came by sea ... also it’s slightly quicker, being more direct. But I’m afraid the weather wasn’t really suitable. As you’ve heard, my guests are not good sailors.’

  ‘Then he might have gone to the harbour,’ mused Nancy. ‘Or he might be in the police station. It would be a good idea to go there and tell the police you’ve lost him. You go there while I go to the harbour. When you’ve finished with the police you could meet me at the quayside and if neither of us have had any luck we can decide what to do next, then.’

  He stared across the street at a shop window as he considered her plan. Nancy waited. The rain had soaked through her headscarf and her hair felt wet. Her fringe dripped water on to her face and she wiped some of it away with her hand. But for all the discomfort she felt contented. The dreariness of spirit which she had felt earlier had gone completely.

  Logan turned his head and looked at her again. His glance rested on her wet fringe. He smiled and murmured,

  ‘You’re a very wet marigold. As you suggest, I’ll go to the police station and you go to the harbour. I’ll meet you there.’

  Without another word he set off across the road. Nancy watched him until he turned a corner and was hidden from her sight, then she set out to find the harbour.

  It wasn’t difficult to find. She went down another steeply sloping street bordered on one side by a row of houses and cottages. At the bottom of the street she turned left and saw the beach at the head of the sea loch which formed the harbour. She walked along the road which bordered the right-hand side of the loch, passing a few shops which sold postcards and other attractions for tourists. Beyond the shops were the harbour buildings.

  Rain blurred the distant entrance to the long loch and wind still ruffled the surface of the water. Vagabond was the only boat at anchor, blue and squat, her bow pointing seawards as she rode the incoming tide.

  Nancy walked the full length of the quayside, but saw no sign of Neil or anyone else. The whole place seemed deserted, which was not surprising on such a wet day. She walked back in the direction of the town and took shelter in the doorway of one of the shops, occasionally peeping out to see if Logan was coming down the steep hill from the town.

  It was a good half-hour before he appeared and to her relief a wet, bedraggled Neil was clutching his hand. She stepped out of her shelter and went towards them. Neil greeted her quietly with none of his usual abandon. In fact he looked rather sulky, and with his lower lip stuck out she could see he had a strong resemblance to his mother. She guessed that Logan had been scolding him for getting lost.

  ‘You were right, he was at the police station. They’d just dug the information out of him about who he is and where he lives when I walked in. Now We’d better find the others. Do you think there’ll be room in Ellis’s car for all of you?’

  ‘But I don’t want to go back by car. I want to come with you,’ objected Neil.

  ‘You’ll do as you’re told,’ commanded Logan briskly. ‘Which hotel did they go to for tea?’ he asked Nancy.

  ‘I ... I don’t know,’ she confessed weakly. ‘I left them before they had decided.’

  His eyebrows pulled together in a frown and she expected a set-down as sharp as the one he had given Neil, but before he could say anything Neil piped up again, ‘Nancy could come with us on Vagabond.’

  ‘How do you know she would want to come?’ said Logan. ‘She came to the Games with someone else and probably wants to go back with him. You aren’t the only male in her life. We’ll try the Royal. I expect Anya will have taken them there as she knows it’s the hotel the family usually uses when in Portree.’

  ‘Male? What’s male, Uncle?’ asked Neil.

  Logan’s explanation lasted up the hill and as far as the hotel entrance. They went in and were eyed severely by the receptionist, who was obviously not impressed by the three soaked people whose clothing dripped water on to the carpet. But a few words from Logan assured her that they were satisfactory, and she went on to suggest that the party they were searching for might be in the dining room.

  As soon as they had set foot in the dining room Neil said loudly,

  ‘I’m hungry. Can we have tea?’

  ‘They’re not here,’ murmured Logan after looking round the room, ‘but perhaps it would be a good idea for us to eat.’

  Nancy agreed with him. She removed her headscarf and raincoat and Neil’s soaked windbreaker and hung them on the clothes rack. Logan removed his jacket too and hung it up.

  They had hardly sat down when Logan said,

  ‘I wonder if they’ve gone to another hotel.’

  ‘I’m going to have baked beans,’ asserted Neil. ‘Baked beans on toast.’

  ‘Supposing it isn’t on the menu,’ countered Logan absently. He was still frowning and Nancy guessed that he was disturbed by the absence of the others and wished she had had the sense to ask where they had intended to take tea.

  ‘What’s menu?’ asked Neil.

  Logan didn’t answer, obviously deep in thought. Fortunately a waitress arrived at that moment with the menu and Nancy was able to explain to the child and to discuss with him what he might have to eat.

  Logan put his menu down abruptly and rose to his feet. ‘Order the mixed grill,’ he said. ‘It’s always good. I’ll go and see if they’re in the bar ... If they’re not. I’ll phone the other hotels and find out if they’re at one of them.’

  By the time he came back cups and saucers and a pot of tea had been brought and Nancy was feeling warm and relaxed. One look at Logan’s face, however, made her sit up.

  ‘They haven’t been here, nor have they been to the other hotels. I think I can guess what’s happened ... and what annoys me most is I didn’t foresee it happening, I was so concerned about Neil. I’m sorry, Nancy.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it looks as if Anya has persuaded Rod to go back to Lanmore, leaving you to return with me.’

  ‘But why should she do that?’

  ‘To annoy me.’

  ‘But what about the others ... Mr. Black and Miss ... Miss Martin? Wouldn’t they be troubled about being rude? I mean it isn’t really the sort of trick you play on your host.’

  He smiled.

  ‘Isn’t it? Maybe not in your world, Nancy, but in theirs self always comes first. I’m not concerned about them being rude to me, after all, I did say I intended to return on Vagabond. It’s their treatment of you that annoys me.’ He sighed an
d then smiled again rather ruefully and added, ‘I can’t say it’s been the most successful of days.’

  ‘Not for me,’ sighed Nancy in sympathy, thinking of Rod’s numerous complaints, the way his face had lit up when he had been introduced to Anya. He must have been very impressed by her to have allowed her to persuade him to leave Nancy behind with Logan.

  The food arrived. Neil received special attention from the homely waitress, who was quite smitten by his angelic blond appearance. Conscious of the admiration, the boy played up for all he was worth, much to Nancy’s amusement. But her amusement soon faded when she realised Logan was watching his nephew coldly as if he didn’t like his behaviour.

  They ate for a while in silence. As Logan had said, the mixed grill was good and Nancy thought that if it hadn’t been for the little niggling worry about the departure of the others she would have been enjoying herself thoroughly for the first time for days.

  ‘If Mummy and the others have gone back to Lanmore, Nancy can come with us on Vagabond, can’t she, Uncle Logan?’ said Neil complacently, almost triumphantly because he had got his own way after all.

  ‘Yes, she’ll have to,’ agreed Logan absently. He didn’t sound particularly keen on the idea, thought Nancy whimsically. A heavy frown still marred his face and she suspected he was still annoyed by Anya’s behaviour, and possibly suffering from jealousy. It probably wasn’t pleasant for him to have to acknowledge that the woman whom he hoped to marry preferred to drive home in someone else’s company, leaving him with her child to look after. Almost as unpleasant as it was for her having to acknowledge that the man she hoped to marry preferred to drive off with a beautiful actress whom he had just met, leaving her to be taken back to Lanmore by a rather reluctant Logan.

  The humorous side of the situation struck Nancy suddenly and she giggled.

  ‘What’s the joke? Tell us,’ commanded Neil.

  Logan’s frown disappeared as he added,

  ‘Yes, tell us. I could do with something to laugh at.’

  ‘It isn’t exactly a joke. It’s ... oh, the whole situation is so funny, almost farcical.’

  ‘Far ... far ... what’s that?’ asked Neil.

  ‘Another word for funny,’ replied Logan ‘And I wish you’d pipe down. You’re always joining in other people’s conversations. Go on, Nancy. What is so farcical?’

  With a sympathetic glance at Neil, who scowled at his uncle’s sharp but necessary rejoinder, Nancy went on,

  ‘We ... I mean, my fiancé has gone off with...’ She remembered with a sudden shock that Neil might not know of any arrangement between his mother and his uncle to marry and that, in fact, all she knew was a vague reference to the possibility of their marriage by Mary Maclaine. So she said no more.

  ‘Not so funny, after all,’ said Logan softly.

  She shook her head and whispered, ‘No.’

  He frowned again.

  ‘Poor Nancy, what a way to end your day out. Never mind, we’ll soon put it right,’ he said consolingly. ‘Now if you have both finished eating we’ll go aboard Vagabond immediately and if we’re lucky we might reach Lanmore before the others.’

  Feeling frustrated because she had been unable to explain her real reasons for laughing because of Neil’s presence, realising that Logan had misunderstood, Nancy was quiet on the way to the boat. .The rain had abated a little and the wind had dropped. They rowed out to the squat two-masted cruiser in a sturdy varnished dinghy which Logan hauled out of the water with the davits which hung over the stern of the yacht.

  Going below, they all dried their wet faces and hair on towels which Logan produced from a locker. He found some oilskins for Nancy and an old sweater for her to wear under them. For Neil there was an old raincoat several sizes too large. After dressing in oilskins himself Logan started the engine, instructed Nancy to hold the wheel and then went up to the bow to winch up the anchor. When he had done that he returned to the cockpit, took the wheel from her and turned Vagabond’s bow towards the entrance of the sea loch.

  The visibility wasn’t very good and all that Nancy saw of the island of Raasay was a looming grey shape on their right as the boat sped swiftly south with the tide under her. Soon the rain increased again and Logan ordered her to take Neil into the cabin where she attempted to entertain him with stories and guessing games. She was just wondering what to do with him when she could think of no more games when the engine coughed and sputtered ominously and stopped. Immediately Logan called to her, asking her to go up into the cockpit.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she asked, her mind going back to the time the car engine had stopped on the narrow road to Glenarg.

  ‘Water in the petrol,’ replied Logan unconcernedly, as if it was a common occurrence on Vagabond.

  ‘Can you do anything about it?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes. But I’ll hoist a sail first to keep the boat from drifting. There’s a faint breath of wind now and that should keep us moving slowly while I fix the engine. Do you think you can steer?’

  Nancy looked around at the grey water, at the grey islands. They were in a narrow strait of water and she realised that if the boat was allowed to drift it might go aground on one of the bleak deserted shores.

  ‘I’ll try,’ she answered faintly.

  Neil was quite excited at the thought of using sail and he wanted to help Logan to hoist it. However, Logan ordered him to stay in .the cockpit, explaining that while he and Nancy were both busy, the boy had to take the responsibility of looking after himself. Neil accepted this argument without complaint and sat as close to Nancy as he could while he watched his uncle pull up the fluttering white sail.

  Under the wide old-fashioned cotton sail Vagabond moved slowly but surely between the intimidating shores of the islands of Raasay and Scalpay into the wider water of the Inner Sound.

  ‘Can you see those two humps over there?’ asked Logan, pointing into the grey murk.

  Nancy could barely make out the faint outlines of what seemed to be two rocks jutting up out of the sea.

  ‘Yes, I can,’ she replied.

  ‘Then steer in that direction. It’s a straight run from here with the wind behind us. But you won’t have to sail for long. I’ll soon clear the water out of the carburetor and the engine will start again,’ Logan asserted confidently.

  The engine did start again and once more Vagabond pushed through the water towards the two humps. The sail was left up, although it did not help at all because with the thrust of the engine the slight amount of wind was soon shaken out of it.

  Fifteen minutes later the engine stopped again. Nancy took the wheel and steered. The clouds were growing darker in colour as the night approached, but she could still see the two humps which had grown larger and had changed shape. Logan tinkered with the engine and put in new plugs, muttering something about Ian Macrae not having done his job properly the last time he had overhauled it.

  It started again, ran sluggishly for a short time and stopped. Logan went below again, but not for long. When he returned to the cockpit he took the wheel from Nancy.

  ‘While this wind holds we’ll try and make it to the islands,’ he said. ‘We can anchor between them. It’s quite sheltered there. Then I’ll empty the petrol tank. It’s the only way to get rid of all the water. I have a spare can of petrol on board which should be free of water.’

  ‘It’s going dark,’ moaned Neil, ‘and I’m tired.’

  ‘Then you shall go to bed,’ said Logan. ‘How would you like to sleep in a hammock in the foc’sle, in a sleeping bag, like a real sailor?’

  Neil thought that it might be a good idea and asked if his daddy had ever done that.

  ‘Often,’ was the reply. ‘In the same hammock.’

  This answer satisfied the boy and Nancy had no difficulty in persuading him to go down into the cabin and then through to the smaller cabin in the bow of the boat. There he climbed into the sleeping bag quite happily and snuggled down. For a few minutes Nancy told him yet an
other story, but she wasn’t required for long. Tired out by his adventures and the sea air, Neil was soon asleep.

  When Nancy returned on deck she found that the two humps were much closer and that they had now become two separate islands. Logan was guiding the slowly moving boat directly at the narrow strip of water which divided them. The entrance was so narrow that Nancy had difficulty in believing that Vagabond, could get through without going aground or without touching the rocks, but the old boat slid past gently, the strip of water widened into a bay and Logan was able to turn the boat into the wind so that the sail flapped and it came to a stop. Then leaving Nancy to hold the wheel steady he went forward to let down the anchor.

  The light was fading fast and all Nancy could see of the island was a slightly tilted plateau of rock which afforded protection from the wind and rain. Behind her the other island was similarly tilted and would provide the same sort of protection if the wind should change.

  Logan stepped down into the cockpit beside her.

  ‘We shall stay the night here,’ he announced firmly. ‘Visibility is bad and it’s now dark. I would prefer not to take any risks with you and Neil on board. I hope you understand.’

  There flashed into Nancy’s mind a picture of his white face when Anya had made the jibe about Neil being accident-prone like his father and she said simply,

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘We shall motor home in the morning,’ he said, paused and then added rather hesitantly, ‘I’m sorry, Nancy, for the second time to-day. I should have hired a car in Portree and taken you and Neil back to Lanmore in a civilised way.’

  ‘But if you had Neil and I would have missed this adventure,’ she answered cheerfully. ‘You must remember I’m used to engines breaking down and being stranded.’

  ‘So you are ... not that I’d forgotten our second meeting. Now you’d better take one of the sleeping bags and turn in.’

  ‘No, I shan’t,’ she replied. ‘I’m going to search in the lockers to see if I can find anything with which to make us a hot drink.’