Then of course there were all the interruptions in a writer’s day. Fiona was a regular visitor and how unnatural it would be if Ian Lachlan McKenzie, all of three and a half, was not permitted to see his very own grampa whom he adored and treated as his equal during lively games of hide and seek. If Shona and Niall came by, bringing their three children, the hide and seek could turn into a riot with the grown ups making more noise than their offspring, all of them vying with one another to see who could talk the loudest. Over and above all that, a regular stream of people ‘just dropped in to see were you needing anything’. Strupaks and ceilidhs were part and parcel of daily life and what chance did an aspiring writer have with all that going on?
‘With you away I’ll have the place to myself for a while,’ he had said, tongue in cheek, to Phebie. ‘I’ll maybe get my book finished – and – who knows, I might even start another one.’
‘Finished!’ she had retaliated pertly. ‘You haven’t even begun it yet! As for another, save that for the rest o’ the pipe dreams.’
‘You wait! Just you wait!’ he had laughed, but now he wasn’t too sure of how he would feel in an empty house with the silence and stillness all around him . . .
The sudden appearance of Fergus, standing in the middle of the road waving his one arm imperatively, an excited Heinz dancing around at his feet, brought Lachlan very effectively out of his daydreams as, amid much clanking and stuttering, he brought Banger McCoy to a wheezy halt.
‘What the hell are you playing at, McKenzie!’ he cried, sticking an indignant face out of the driver’s window. ‘I could have run you over just now!’
The gross overstatement brought a dour smile to Fergus’s face. ‘Driving at the pace you do?’ he said sarcastically. ‘I don’t know why you bother wi’ the damt motor! You would be quicker getting out and walking!’
‘That’s beside the point. You were standing plunk in the middle o’ the road and I just might have injured you. Old McCoy doesn’t always answer to the brakes and I myself was lost in a bit o’ thought as I was coming along . . .’
‘Never mind that now, man,’ Fergus spoke brusquely, ‘I want you to come along wi’ me to my barn. I have something to show you.’
Lachlan was used to the other man and his imperious ways, which didn’t mean to say he always took too kindly to them. He was about to open his mouth in protest, but Fergus was already away, striding through the gate and up the track in no uncertain manner.
‘Bugger you, McKenzie,’ Lachlan muttered as he manoeuvred Banger McCoy alongside the gate and got out. ‘At least have the manners to wait for me, Fergus!’ he shouted.
Impatiently Fergus halted and waited for Lachlan to catch up with him.
‘Just what is it you want me to see?’ demanded Lachlan, his brown eyes glinting a little.
‘A woman!’ Fergus hurled the words over his shoulder as he began walking quickly towards the barn.
‘A woman?’
‘Ay, an injured one. I hope you’ve got your bag.’
‘Dammit, man! I retired years ago in case you’ve forgotten. I’m not in the habit o’ carrying my doctor’s bag around with me. I don’t even know where it is. It’s Megan you want. She’s the doctor now.’
‘She isn’t here, you are,’ was Fergus’s succinct reply as he strode into the barn and became lost to view.
Lachlan clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Taking a deep breath he fought down his annoyance at Fergus, curiosity getting the better of him despite himself. Kirsteen had only just turned her back and here was her husband, finding himself another woman as if they grew on the ground like daisies! Lachlan grinned. He was getting to be like old Behag with his wicked thoughts . . . The jet black bundle that was Heinz appeared at the barn door, as if urging the doctor to get a move on. Even the dog was at it, hurrying people, demanding attention, getting to be more and more like his master with every passing day.
So thought Lachlan wryly as he entered the portals of the big airy barn with its cobwebs and lancing beams of sunlight and mysterious corners where people could hide out for days if they so desired.
‘Hurry up, Lachlan!’ Fergus’s voice floated down from the hayloft.
‘I’m coming, man,’ Lachlan called back as he climbed upwards to where an unknown young woman lay, one whose unusual arrival would titillate the island’s curiosity for many weeks and months to come.
Chapter Four
Lachlan’s hands were gentle as he made a thorough examination of the strange young woman in Fergus’s hayloft. ‘She’s been in the water,’ he said decidedly. ‘Her clothes are damp and smell of salt and she’s got sand in her shoes.’
‘You made a good doctor but you might have made a better detective,’ Fergus said with a short laugh. ‘I never noticed any o’ these things, I was too busy finding out if she was alive.’
‘Years o’ dealing wi’ every sort o’ situation taught me a lot. She’s alive alright but suffering from exposure and possibly lack o’ nourishment. There’s no indication of internal injuries, the cuts are superficial and the bruise on her head isn’t as bad as it looks. She must have come in here and knocked herself out on a rafter. There could be concussion so we’ll have to get her into the house and into bed. I’ll take her head, you take her legs.’
With Heinz leading the way they manhandled the girl down from the loft and over to the house. Although she was so slightly built, her helplessness made her seem a dead weight and both men were panting slightly by the time they had carried her upstairs and into the bright little attic room that had once been Shona’s.
‘Help me get her clothes off,’ Lachlan directed as soon as they had deposited their burden on the bed.
‘Her clothes?’ Fergus looked taken aback.
‘Ay, you heard me, she canny very well stay in these damp things or she’ll get pneumonia.’ As he was speaking he was removing the girl’s dress, peeling off her undergarments, his hands deft and sure as he worked.
Fergus could only stare as the layers were removed. Soon the girl lay naked on the sheets, as vulnerable-looking as a young child. Her tumble of dark hair cascaded over the creamy-gold skin of her shoulders, her breasts were small and perfect, her waist tiny, her hips narrow, her legs surprisingly long. She was utterly and breathtakingly feminine and Fergus became aware of a strange sensation of entrancement gripping him as he observed her lying so still and silent in the white bed.
‘A nightdress, man!’ Lachlan’s voice made Fergus jump. ‘Don’t just stand there gaping. Surely you must have something we can put her in. Shona bides here on the odd occasion, she’ll have some bits and pieces in her dresser.’
Fergus gave himself a mental shake and striding to the dresser he unearthed a blue nightdress and a woollen bedjacket which he quickly handed to Lachlan.
‘Hot water bottles’, Lachlan ordered, ‘as many as you’ve got. We must get her body temperature up – and you could maybe bring an extra blanket or two while you’re about it.’
‘Yoo-hoo! Father!’ Shona’s voice floated upstairs. ‘Are you in? I’ve brought some things for your lunch!’
At the sound of his daughter’s voice relief washed over Fergus. She was cool and calm in emergencies, she had been a nurse, she would know what to do.
‘Up here, Shona,’ he called, ‘in your old room! Hang on, I’m coming down.’
But before he could move Shona came bounding upstairs to appear in the doorway, breathlessly declaring, ‘I’ve left the bairns with Niall, I knew you might be feeling a bit sorry for yourself so I –’
She stopped short at the sight that met her eyes, Lachlan bending over the bed in which reposed a strange young woman, one whose raven hair tumbled over the pillows and whose wild beauty was strikingly apparent even though her eyes were closed and she looked very pale. Shona let her breath go in a hiss. This was her room! That was her bed . . . and most disturbing of all, these were her night-things that the girl was wearing, the spares that were always kept in the top drawer o
f her dresser, wrapped in layers of perfumed tissue paper to keep them fresh smelling.
The three bears! The thought came ridiculously and humorously into her head. ‘Who’s been sleeping in my bed?’ Ellie Dawn loved that story and adored saying those words in a deep grumbly voice. But this was no laughing matter! Not with Kirsteen newly away, sublimely unaware of what was happening as she sailed serenely over the sea on a much needed holiday, never dreaming that another woman was snugly ensconced in Laigmhor as if she had planned the whole thing!
A spark of annoyance shone in Shona’s deep blue eyes. Turning to her father she was about to demand an explanation but Lachlan got there first, clarifying the situation in a few short sentences, ending with, ‘You were a nurse, Shona, you know what’s needed. Later we’ll have to call Megan, she might suggest getting the lass into hospital, but for now we’ve got to do all we can to make her comfortable . . .’
Just then the girl in the bed stirred and laid a hand on Lachlan’s arm. ‘No, no, not hospital, please,’ she begged in a husky whisper, fear in the great dark eyes that looked up at him. Glancing around the cosy room with its gold-coloured curtains and homely decor she went on, ‘Let me stay here, in this room, I’ll – I’ll be safe here. Don’t let anybody take me away.’
‘Alright, lass,’ Lachlan said in his quiet, reassuring voice, ‘you’re going to be fine, no one is going to take you away. Just you lie back and rest and let us do the worrying.’
A sigh of relief escaped the girl’s lips, and sinking back into the pillows she closed her eyes and fell asleep like a trusting child who knew it was in good hands.
An odd little silence descended on the room. Fergus and Shona looked at one another then rather dazedly they descended the stairs to the kitchen where he tried to tell her what he knew about the mysterious stranger, which wasn’t much since he himself knew so little about her.
‘I’ll get the hot bottles,’ Shona turned to the stove where the kettle was keeping warm. She was lifting it down when the door opened to admit Bob with his sheepdog, Gaffer, at his heels. Gaffer liked to think he was boss around the place and he immediately made for Heinz, whom he loved to try and bully. Soon the kitchen was ringing with the barking of dogs and the hissing of the cats from their safe perch atop the oven.
‘Come away here, you bugger!’ Bob roared at his dog, and grabbing him by the scruff of his neck he rushed him outside and shut him in the barn.
‘’Tis sorry I am for being late,’ Bob apologised when he got back, looking sheepish and red about the ears as he spoke. ‘I can only say it was due to circumstances beyond my control,’ he added rather grandly.
‘And what might they be?’ Fergus demanded curtly. ‘I could have been doing wi’ you here this morning.’
Bob coughed and shuffled his feet. ‘Ay, well you see, it was curtains.’
‘Curtains!’
‘The very thing. Grace gave her ankle a wee twist and canny walk very far for the time being. She sent word to see would I come over to her house wi’ my van to take her to Blair Croft where Jessie McKinnon is running her up some curtains. Jessie’s a dab hand at making things on thon wee treadle sewing machine o’ hers and wanted to ask Grace what size she wanted.’
‘But you could have stopped by here on the way down to tell me you would be late,’ Fergus said with a frown.
‘Ay, well, I was going to do just that but it was so cold this morning the damt van wouldny start. I had to get Croynachan to give me a push wi’ her down the brae and once she got going I was feart to stop her in case she wouldny start again.’
‘It’s high time you had that van looked at,’ Fergus admonished. ‘You haven’t had it serviced since you got the damt thing.’
‘Ach, I will, I will,’ Bob spoke carelessly. He had scant interest in machines of any kind and what went on under the bonnet of his van was as clear to him as mud. Giving Fergus a sidelong glance he went on, ‘As I was just after saying, Jessie is making curtains for Grace but we had to go to my house first to measure out the sizes.’
‘Ay, you’ve already mentioned the curtains,’ Fergus spoke impatiently, his mind refusing to dwell on such mundane matters when there was so much else to occupy it.
But Shona was quick to grasp Bob’s meaning. With sparkling eyes she turned to the old man and laughed. ‘Your house, Bob, the one you bought when you had that win on the football pools and which has lain empty since Fiona and Grant moved into their bungalow?’
‘Ay, the very one,’ Bob agreed slyly. ‘It is much too grand for me to bide in all by myself. I thought it best to remain up yonder in my biggin till the time was ripe.’
‘In other words, you’re trying to tell us that you and Grace have at last decided to get married and move into the new house together.’
Bob’s blue eyes twinkled. ‘There is no fooling you, Shona my lass, and you’re right enough in what you say. As you know, when Old Joe died, me and Grace thought it wouldny be decent to get wed right away so we agreed to bide our time for a wee whilie. I was beginning to think she had forgotten all about our arrangement when out o’ the blue she said to me all coy like, “I’m getting lonely again, Bob, I think ’tis high time we started making our wee plans for the future. It isn’t right to be leaving that fine house o’ yours empty for too long and we could do no better than start off wi’ some nice new curtains.”’
Shona let out a peal of laughter, while Fergus went to the sideboard. Withdrawing a bottle of whisky he held it up and said, ‘This calls for a dram, and I don’t mind telling you I could be doing wi’ one after all the upsets o’ the morning. Sit you down Bob and let me charge your glass. It will have to be quick mind, one o’ us will have to go for Doctor Megan in case the lass upstairs is needing medical attention.’
‘Lass upstairs?’ Bob’s grizzled brown face lit up with interest. His gnarled fist closed round his glass as he waited for Fergus to explain himself further.
‘Pour one for me,’ directed Shona, ‘I’ll just go upstairs first with the blankets and the bottles.’
She departed, leaving her father to tell Bob the latest happenings at Laigmhor. When she came down she was accompanied by Lachlan, who joined briefly in the celebrations before departing to Slochmhor to telephone for the doctor.
‘Will we be having any dinner today at all?’ Bob enquired anxiously. ‘Jessie wanted Grace and me to bide at Blair Croft for a bite to eat – mealy herring it was too, one o’ my favourites – but I said I had to get over here as everyone would be wondering where I was lost.’
‘Don’t fret yourself, Bob,’ Shona told him with a smile, ‘you’ll get fed alright and it’s another o’ your favourites, mince and tatties, made by my own fair hands this very morning and transported down here in a couple o’ milk luggies.’
‘Ach, you’re a good lass, just,’ Bob settled back in his chair with his dram, contentment on his craggy features as he waited for Shona to heat the mid-day meal.
Suddenly she turned from the stove and looked at her father. ‘That girl, the one upstairs, does she have a name?’
‘Ay, seemingly she whispered it to Lachlan when we left the room, he said it sounded like Fern something, he couldny quite catch it all but said he thought it was maybe Fern Lee.’
‘Fern Lee! Whoever heard o’ a name like that? It’s straight out o’ the theatre if you ask me.’
Fergus stared down at the contents in his glass. Shona was right, there was something terribly unreal about the name, just a shade too fancy for it to be true. Time would tell . . . Throwing back his head he gulped down his drink . . . and couldn’t help wondering just what would emerge about the mysterious stranger in the course of the next few days. If she was still at Laigmhor by then! He hastened to tell himself this for he had gone hot and cold at the remembrance of the girl’s undoubted beauty as she lay on the cool white bed – as naked and as vulnerable as the day she was born and looking just as innocent. Then the thought came to him: what would Kirsteen have to say about all this if s
he knew what was going on under her very own roof? But nothing was going on, he hastened to reassure himself, and Kirsteen would be as she always was to anyone who was needing help: kind, sympathetic, and completely understanding . . .
Shona set down a steaming plate at his elbow. He looked up at her, and in her eyes he saw an expression of curiosity – as if she was wondering what was going on in his mind. Then she smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring gesture and he knew that she understood how unsettled he was feeling with Kirsteen away and his life turned suddenly upside down.
The water was clear and calm as Hector the Boat guided the Queen o’ Scots round a point of land into a little bay known as Camus nan Uamh, which was Gaelic for Bay of the Caves. Here there was good lobster fishing and Hector got to work with his pots while Dodie sat in the stern, gazing in fascination down into the depths of the translucent water.
The Uisge Hags, the Green Water Witches, the Cackling Crones of the Sound, were far from his mind that morning. It was a glorious day; the water was turquoise, the sky a hazy blue; above the cliffs the seagulls were swooping and diving, their wings flashing white in the sun; the cry of a curlew came bubbling up from the shore; sharp imperative whistles arose from the oyster catchers as they probed amongst the rocks with their bright red beaks. It was all a vastly new experience for Dodie and he had all but forgotten his mistrust of the sea in this amazing experience of seeing Rhanna from such a completely different angle.
Getting into the boat had worried him a bit. It had wobbled and bucked and he had held back till Hector had grabbed him and yanked him unceremoniously aboard.
‘Come on now, Dodie,’ Hector had said soothingly, ‘you’ll enjoy it once you get used to it. There is nothing like the sea to take away a man’s worries. I myself have done most o’ my thinking whilst floating on the waves. Just think o’ the boat as a cradle rocked by a mother’s hand and you’ll relax in no time.’
A Rhanna Mystery Page 4