A Rhanna Mystery

by Christine Marion Fraser

  ‘Ruthie,’ he took her hands and held them tight, ‘nothing o’ that sort will ever happen again, I promise you. I was just looking, that’s all, it’s – it’s the way men are made.’

  She giggled. ‘I’ve a good mind to blindfold you next time we come here, Lorn McKenzie, but if I did I wouldn’t be able to make use o’ you. Here, take these plates before everything gets cold. And don’t drop them or you’ll get a warmed lug and no tea!’

  There was a rather awkward silence when at last everyone seated themselves at the table. The conversation was polite and stilted as salt and pepper, milk and sugar, were passed round with the utmost attention to the needs of table partners.

  Even the children seemed struck dumb by the presence of the unexpected newcomer to Laigmhor’s familiar scene. Douglas had to be reprimanded once or twice for openly following every move that Fern made, his eyes going from her plate to her mouth, her mouth to her plate, till in exasperation Lorn told him to stop gaping and get on with his own meal.

  But gradually the atmosphere thawed and when it did, everyone began talking at once, as if vying with one another as to who could recount the most interesting tit-bit of news.

  Fern, her eyes sparkling, listened for a while, and then she too began to add to the conversation, and when she did it was as if the atmosphere had been charged with something electric. Her elbows on the table, her clasped hands supporting her chin, she began to speak in her southern Irish lilt, simple little anecdotes, funny things that had happened to her, nothing startling or out of the ordinary, yet she made the commonplace sound exciting, the mundane exhilarating and hilarious.

  By the end of the meal she had captivated everyone, including the children and the animals. Even Ruth couldn’t help succumbing to her charms and felt quite gratified when she offered to help wash up the tea things.

  ‘I am fair delighted to have found you all,’ Fern confided to Ruth in her pleasing voice. ‘If it hadn’t been for Fergus I don’t know what I would have done and everyone else has been so kind.’

  She proceeded to tell Ruth her reasons for seeking refuge on the island. By the time she had finished speaking Ruth was overcome with sympathy and eager to help in any way she could.

  ‘Ah, if only I could be staying at Laigmhor for a while,’ Fern sighed. ‘I feel so safe here, but it’s difficult with Mrs McKenzie away and no one else in the house but myself and her man.’

  ‘Oh, that’s easily solved.’ Ruth’s face was flushed with earnestness. ‘Lorna loves it here and would be only too willing to bide wi’ her grampa for a whilie. Shona and myself take turns driving the bairns to school in the morning and it would be no trouble picking Lorna up from Laigmhor . . .’

  Ruth halted. More visitors had arrived, this time Fiona and her husband Grant, Fergus’s eldest son. With them they had brought little Ian, who wasted no time joining forces with Douglas who was intent on tying a woollen bonnet round Heinz’s patient head.

  Fiona’s bright eyes took in the scene in one glance. ‘I see you found your way back,’ she addressed Fern appraisingly, all the while thinking how quickly the newcomer had made inroads into the family circle.

  Grant said nothing but just stood looking at the girl, something in his dark eyes that wasn’t easy to fathom. He was very like Fergus, both in build and looks, brawny and muscular, bristling with life and energy, his firm determined jaw bearing testimony to a nature that could be every bit as stubborn as that of his father. Woe betide anyone who ever did wrong against a member of his family, especially if it involved his mother, of whom he was fiercely protective, having spent the first five years of his life in her keeping before she and Fergus got married. He didn’t like the upheaval this girl was causing in the Laigmhor household and Fern, sensing something of his thoughts, was the first to look away from him with the feeling that his black steely eyes seemed to be boring into her very soul.

  A silence had once more descended on the room and everyone experienced a sense of relief when it was broken by a noisy scuffling at the door which soon opened to reveal Tam and Todd, grinning their big grins, almost in unison whipping their caps respectfully from their heads and twisting them round in their large red hands.

  ‘Ach, you’re busy, Fergus,’ Tam observed, his eyes roving round the gathering. ‘It might be best if we came back another time.’

  The cold night air was rushing in through the open door. ‘No, no, come in,’ bade Fergus hastily, ‘you’re letting all the heat out o’ the house. Two more won’t make much difference now,’ he ended in some bemusement since the walls of the kitchen seemed to have shrunk in the last half hour.

  Obediently Tam shut the door and came further inside. ‘If you’re sure it’s no bother.’ He was being at his polite best. ‘We’ll no’ keep you long but after meeting you today we thought it only right to come here and offer our services.’

  ‘Ay, ay,’ Todd, not to be outdone, added his piece. ‘While we were in the hotel we had a wee discussion about the things you were after telling us. There was the usual humming and hawing but in the end we came to the decision that we ought to offer to help find the lassie who is lost. It was after Ranald told us a terrible tale about a young woman who went missing in the hills and ended up being eaten by foxes . . .’ He broke off; Tam was nudging him in the ribs and grunting in a most meaningless manner.

  Todd blinked uncomprehendingly.

  ‘There, man, there,’ hissed Tam, gesticulating with his thumb in Fern’s direction.

  Todd stared at her as if she was a ghost but Tam, being Tam, soon recovered himself.

  ‘I see you have found yourself,’ he beamed at Fern. ‘Well, well, is this no’ a turn up for the books? Todd and me were just about to go out looking for you and here you are, bright as a moonbeam and as bonny as a morning rosebud.’

  If Kate had heard this she would undoubtedly have crowned him with the nearest floor mop, since the only flower he had ever likened her to was ‘a dead dandelion wearing curlers’. Kate, however, was not there and Tam felt free to let his tongue run riot, his reward for his chivalry being a thank you kiss on his cheek, planted there by Fern herself who seemed filled with appreciation for his apparent concern for her well-being.

  ‘Well, well, this calls for a dram!’ Tam, quite carried away with himself, spoke in a masterful voice.

  ‘Ay, ay, right enough.’ Todd, feeling cheated of attention, was prepared to settle for a ‘drop o’ the cratur’ as a reward for his good intentions. ‘It’s no’ every night a lass is saved from the wilderness, is it now?’

  Fergus capitulated. The drams were poured and passed round. Half an hour later a ceilidh was in full swing, with the menfolk vying with one another as to who could recite the best poem or recount the most interesting tale.

  ‘We should have had Ranald here,’ Todd cried. ‘If anyone can make a body’s flesh creep, McTavish is the man to do it.’

  ‘Ach, we don’t need him,’ Tam said flamboyantly, one eye on Fern, whom he was trying hard to impress. ‘All the best people are here at Laigmhor tonight. Get out your fiddle, Lorn, my lad, and we’ll have a wee bit dance.’

  Lorn always kept a spare fiddle at his old home and soon the reels and strathspeys were springing wildly from his flying fingers. Everyone danced, the menfolk making sure that Fern was never without a partner. Only Grant remained aloof, while Fergus was careful to keep his distance from her.

  He watched her, though. When he was certain that everyone else was busy he noted the swaying of her lithe limbs, and the feline grace of her slender young body.

  ‘She’s recovered quickly enough.’ Grant’s voice at his elbow made Fergus jump. ‘I thought she was supposed to have spent the last few days freezing to death and starving.’

  Fergus’s eyes glittered. ‘Just what are you implying, son?’

  ‘Och, come on, Father. Look at her, she’s the picture o’ health and vitality – and – and there’s an excitement about her that I canny explain, as if she’s got something to ce
lebrate and is glad o’ the chance to let it all out.’

  Even as he spoke a wild cry rent the air. Lorn was playing a lively selection of Spanish melodies, and Fern had jumped up and was holding the floor. Swirling her skirt around her thighs, stamping her feet, she gave full rein to a wild Flamenco dance, showing her shapely legs, arrogantly moving her head from side to side, in the process effectively displaying her perfectly sculpted cheekbones and the entrancing little cleft in the middle of her chin.

  ‘Phew, just look at those legs,’ Tam hissed to Todd.

  ‘Ay, she’s a bonny lass and no mistake,’ Todd nodded.

  The rest of the men thought so too, if their rapt attention to Fern’s every move was anything to go by. Then, just as suddenly as she had risen she sat down again, face averted, looking as if she was regretting having brought so much attention upon herself.

  Grant and Fiona glanced at one another meaningfully. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Fiona asked her husband. ‘That there’s more to her than meets the eye?’

  ‘Ay,’ he returned darkly. ‘But try telling that to Father -or anybody else for that matter. She’s got them eating out o’ her hand, but I’ll be keeping a weather eye open for her, at least till Mother gets home.’

  ‘She is lovely though, isn’t she?’

  ‘Devastating,’ he admitted frankly. ‘And she’s using it like a weapon. She knows how to attract men alright but . . .’ he grinned, ‘ . . . not an old salt like myself who’s spent his life dodging beautiful mermaids and witches and all the other fabulous creatures that the ocean ever had to offer.’

  She giggled, but knew he meant what he said about keeping Fern under surveillance. When he set his mind to it he was like a dog with a bone and where his family was concerned he would never let go until all danger had passed.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was late when the visitors took their leave of Laigmhor. Ruth and Lorn were the last to go, lingering on for a cup of tea before they too departed into the night, leaving Lorna, who was delighted to be staying with her grampa.

  ‘I’ll look after him,’ she promised her parents in her most grown up manner, and taking Fergus’s hand she stood with him at the door till Ruth’s little car was lost to view on the Glen Fallan road.

  ‘Now it’s just us!’ Fern cried in delight. ‘And we’ll all have a wonderful time together.’

  She seemed genuinely pleased to have the little girl in the house and set about bathing her and generally attending to her needs. ‘There now, mavourneen,’ she said as she finished brushing the child’s curly mop. ‘Into bed with you. I’ll tuck you up all nice and cosy and then you must go to sleep like a good wee lass. You have school to go to in the morning and I’ll have your breakfast all ready for you.’

  But Lorna had other ideas. ‘I have to look after Grampa,’ she stated solemnly. ‘Mother says he’s lonely without Gramma and I’m going to read him a bedtime story and keep him company till he falls asleep.’

  And she meant every word she said. The grown ups had very little say in the matter. Lorna was a true McKenzie and could be every bit as stubborn as any of them when she felt like it. With a determined set to her chin she left her own bed to go through to Fergus’s room and climb into his bed.

  ‘I’m waiting to read you a story,’ she told him, and so saying she folded her hands over her chest and lay on the pillows with a look of utmost patience on her rosy, newly washed face.

  ‘Alright,’ laughed Fergus, who had a terrible soft spot for his eldest grandchild. ‘I give in. What will it be tonight? Jack in the Beanstalk? Red Riding Hood?’

  She gazed at him reprovingly. ‘Grampa, those are for tiny children like Aunt Shona’s twins. They’re far too babyish for a big man like you. I thought you might like Treasure Island. It’s in the bookcase in Aunt Shona’s room.’

  ‘Treasure Island it is,’ he conceded, unable to smother his laughter. ‘I’ll go through and get it.’

  He went across the landing but stopped short at the door of his daughter’s old room. Fern occupied it now! And he didn’t know if she had come upstairs or was still down below in the kitchen. Tentatively he tapped the door. There was no answer and snapping on the light he went in quickly to search through the bookcase.

  ‘She’s all there, that little one! She’s got us both neatly sewn up and just where she wants us.’ Fern had come in. She was right there, at his back, so close he could smell her perfume and feel the soft material of her nightdress whispering against his bare arm.

  ‘I have just had a bath.’ Her breath fanned his ear, her voice was low and seductive. ‘Was it not my old grandmother who was always after telling me to waste not, want not, and leave nothing for the devil? I used Lorna’s bathwater for it was still fine and warm, and here I am, all ready for the taking.’ She laughed, and pressing herself up against him she allowed her lips to brush his cheek. ‘Don’t be forgetting now, the things my grannie used to say. It would be a terrible waste altogether if I had no one to share my bed with and myself chilled to the bone after all my terrible experiences.’ Her hands came round to caress his chest. ‘Don’t be long with that story, Lorna’s a tough wee thing but she’s had a busy night to herself and should soon drop off to dreamland.’

  ‘No!’ He felt as if he was choking in a mixture of desire and rage. Fiercely he shook her off and spinning round he grabbed her wrist to hold it fast and look her straight in the eye. ‘No more o’ this! I won’t have it in my house! I said you could stay till you got on your feet and that’s all I meant. My granddaughter’s in the next room, my wife will be home in a week or so, my family are never away from the place and I – I’m bloody well not getting myself into trouble, for you or anyone else!’

  She held his gaze, her dark eyes flashed, and a husky mocking laugh rose up in her throat. ‘Ah well, are you not the man of stone and steel? Here am I, a flesh and blood colleen, only wanting to show you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me, and here you are, boiling inside and trying to pretend you have a heart made of ice. But it will melt, Fergus, surely it will melt, the furnace in your belly will see to that, and when it does I’ll be here waiting for you.’

  Breathing heavily he pushed her aside and charged out of the room, forgetting all about Treasure Island in his haste to escape. Before facing Lorna again he paused to collect his senses. He was seething with emotions that he hadn’t known for years! Awash with an anger that shook him! And something else that he could hardly bear to admit, even to himself.

  It had been a struggle for him to reject her advances just now. He wanted to know what it would be like with her and the urge to rush back to her room was almost overpowering.

  It was too much! All he wanted was peace in his own house, to feel he was his own man again!

  All he wanted . . .

  He didn’t allow his thoughts to wander further. If he had succumbed to the persuasions of those young arms, that hungry mouth, he knew he would have lived to regret it for the rest of his life.

  ‘You should see her, Kate,’ Tam was enthusing to his wife as he partook of a late supper of melted cheese on toast sprinkled with pepper. ‘It’s no wonder McKenzie wanted to keep her all to himself, she’s a beauty and no mistake.’

  ‘Oh ay,’ Kate sounded ominously calm. ‘And I suppose you would know what to do wi’ her if you had her all to yourself?’

  ‘What man wouldny?’ Tam returned in muffled tones as he bit into his cheesy snack with relish.

  Kate glowered at her husband’s bald patch. ‘You dirty bodach!’ she cried. ‘What woman in their right mind would give the likes o’ you a second glance! I only put up wi’ you because at my age I canny get anything better.’

  ‘Och, Kate,’ he cajoled, ‘that’s no’ a very nice thing to say to your very own man. You’re a bonny woman and you know fine I wouldny change you for all the tea in China.’

  ‘Do you really mean that, Tam?’ Kate was somewhat mollified.

  ‘Of course I do,
mind you, what would I be doing wi’ all that tea?’ he continued jovially. ‘I would rather have a hotel like Bull Bull’s and put Fern behind the bar. I would do a roaring trade for she’s a right wee shining star . . .’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘That dance, those legs.’

  For answer, Kate bonked him on his bald patch with the empty teapot which, fortunately for him, was made of light metal. ‘That’s about the only stars you’ll be seeing in this life, my lad!’ she told him furiously. ‘If it does nothing else it might knock some sense into that silly skull o’ yours!’

  ‘Och, Kate.’ Ruefully Tam rubbed his head and gazed at her with reproach. ‘There is no need for violence o’ that sort. You like to know what’s going on in the place and I was only telling you what I saw and heard on my visit to Laigmhor tonight.’ Taking off his socks he wriggled his toes to the fire. ‘Whether you like it or no, there’s going to be a few jealous cailleachs on the island soon. That lass will cause havoc among the menfolk or my name’s no’ Tam McKinnon.’

  Kate snatched his socks from the floor. ‘There are holes in these as big as your head! Well, this time you can darn them yourself or – or get that Jezebel o’ McKenzie’s to do them for you! She might no’ be so keen to flirt wi’ bodachs like you if she got a taste o’ your smelly drawers and sweaty socks and your boozy snoring in bed when you’re sleeping off the dregs o’ Bull Bull’s beer.’

  ‘Och, come on now, Kate,’ wheedled Tam, ‘that’s no’ very fair. You can raise the rafters yourself wi’ your own snoring. Many’s the night I’ve lain sleepless in the dark, thinkin’ the world was crashing round my lugs wi’ all the noise and thunder you make.’

  ‘Tam McKinnon! I haveny finished wi’ you yet and don’t you try to change the subject! I haveny forgotton how you have to get up in the night to pee all your money down the drain, and here’s me, needing a new winter coat and a decent pair o’ breeks to cover my backside!’