A Rhanna Mystery

by Christine Marion Fraser

  ‘The man is just a walking wind-bag that thinks it’s an encyclopedia,’ she said apologetically to Shona. ‘As I was saying, your poor father, he must be having a hard job coping while Kirsteen is away. As if that isn’t enough he has to contend wi’ these other burdens landing on his doorstep.’

  ‘Ay, Kate, life can indeed be hard at times,’ Shona nodded, determined she was not going to help Kate one bit.

  Kate leaned forward confidingly, ‘We were after hearing about the girl’s troubles, running away from her man because he abused her. Is it no’ terrible just, what we womenfolk have to put up with?’

  ‘Terrible,’ agreed Shona, ‘and if I don’t get a move on, my man will be abusing me wi’ his tongue for taking half the morning to get a few supplies, and him wi’ a surgery full of sick animals waiting for his attention.’ With that she paid for her stamps and envelopes and left the shop.

  ‘She wasn’t giving much away,’ Kate said peevishly.

  ‘She’s a McKenzie,’ Elspeth said with a sniff. ‘She’ll swim against the tide just for the sake o’ it.’

  Kate, filled with chagrin at her failure to extract even the smallest tit-bit of news from Shona, turned her attentions on Elspeth. ‘And I suppose you’re swimming wi’ the tide, Elspeth, when you elope to Oban to get married to Mac? A wedding should be a proud affair. It is the one chance a woman has to show herself off to the world. As it is, we’ll never get to know if you went as a flower person or just plain old Elspeth, grouse feather and all.’

  ‘Ach, you’re too hard on her, Kate,’ reproved Mollie as Slochmhor’s housekeeper turned on her heel and walked hurriedly out of the post office. ‘You’ve never got a kind word to say to her for all you are a sympathetic cratur to other folks hereabouts.’

  ‘Ach well, she asks for it at every turn,’ Kate defended herself. ‘She’s aye on the lookout for trouble and has to be kept in her place. Besides all that,’ her eyes glinted, ‘I’m mad at her for going to Oban to be wed! I’m dying to know what she will be wearing on the big day. It isn’t fair o’ her to deprive her friends of her own personal fashion show.’

  ‘Her friends!’ hooted Mollie. ‘You can hardly call yourself one o’ those, Kate. And since when did you come to be so interested in clothes anyway? You were never a body to bend to fashion – of any sort,’ she ended, eyeing Kate’s shapeless coat, her headscarf, the scuffed and clumsy black suede boots that Tam had likened to ‘the fringed hooves of a carthorse’.

  At this, Behag looked down her nose and pointedly turned up the collar of her mother’s fur coat. ‘Appearances do count, no matter where a woman happens to live. I myself have aye tried to look smart, even if it’s only to the shops in Portcull, and, of course, to the kirk on the Sabbath. My mother, rest her soul, would be proud if she could see me now, making good use o’ the coat she herself was so privileged to own.’

  Kate’s eyes travelled the length and breadth of Behag’s moth-eaten furs. ‘Ay, as you say, Behag, just as long as you don’t go wearing it to the midden for fear it might leap off your back and throw itself in.’

  At that, the shop held its breath, Behag stalked out, and everyone erupted into gales of merriment.

  ‘Och, you’re a terrible woman, Kate,’ Tam said as he wiped his eyes. ‘If you weren’t I couldny bear living wi’ you for I wouldny know what to do wi’ a wife who had nothing but good to say about everybody. It would be a tedious existence, just, and I myself would pine away altogether if I wasny on my mettle waiting to see where the next teapot was coming from!’

  Elspeth was deep in thought as she sat by the fire, staring abstractedly into the flames. The things that Kate had said to her that day in the post office were rankling in her mind and no matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t settle.

  In the chair opposite, Captain Mac was asleep, his big slippered feet ensconced comfortably on the hearth, his great hairy hands folded loosely across the generous proportions of his stomach as he puffed and snored gently into his beard.

  As a rule, Elspeth cherished this evening hour with Mac, sharing a companionship with him that she had never known with anyone else. Peace and contentment pervaded every corner of the house, making it seem like a little fortress that neither man nor beast could penetrate.

  In a less tangible way, however, Kate had succeeded in doing just that, with her unthinking comments regarding Elspeth’s wedding outfit, and Elspeth’s mind was in a turmoil because of it.

  ‘What ails you, lass?’ Mac woke himself up with a mighty snort and looked at Elspeth sitting quiet and subdued in her chair.

  ‘I was just thinking, Isaac, about the wedding. I have never been easy in my mind about a registry office ceremony. As you know, I have been a regular church goer all my life and this hole in the corner affair in Oban just doesny seem right to me.’

  Mac wouldn’t have cared if he had got married on a rock in the middle of the ocean! Better still, he wouldn’t have minded carrying on ‘living in sin’, a state that had been attributed to himself and Elspeth by a few pious islanders, even though the physical side of ‘the arrangement’ in Elspeth’s house had amounted to no more than a few affectionate hugs and squeezes. This had certainly unsettled Mac a good deal since he was, as Kate so aptly put it, ‘a lusty big chiel’ whose healthy appetite for women was well known throughout the Hebrides. But Elspeth’s firm devotion to the Bible and its teachings had not allowed for much in the way of pre-marriage hanky panky and Mac had resigned himself to the fact that the ring would have to be on her finger before he could gain admittance to her bedroom.

  But while he didn’t give two hoots about where and how they were married he was sensitive to Elspeth’s feelings on the matter and was therefore able to look upon her with kindness when she took him into her confidence that night.

  ‘Get the rum, lass,’ he said softly. ‘You and me will have a discussion about everything over a nice wee nightcap.’

  Elspeth got up and fetched the rum bottle from the sideboard and while she set out the glasses Mac plunged the poker into the glowing depths of the fire.

  ‘There now.’ Settling back in his chair to wait for the poker to heat he gazed at her expectantly. ‘Tell me what it is that’s bothering you? We said a while back that we would try never to hide anything from one another and aye remember, a trouble shared is a trouble halved.’

  ‘It’s that shrew, Kate McKinnon,’ Elspeth’s eyes grew misty with self-pity at the memory of Kate’s hurtful words and she proceeded to tell Mac about the scene in the post office.

  ‘Is that so now,’ Mac nodded when Elspeth had finished speaking. He allowed a few minutes to elapse, during which he plunged the glowing tip of the poker into each of the glasses and handed one to her. To Elspeth, this little ritual was one of the most pleasurable she had ever shared with anyone, safe from prying eyes, no one to criticise her actions, just herself and Mac at either side of the fire, the aroma of burnt rum hanging agreeably in the air as they drank and conversed in utter harmony.

  ‘Here’s to us, Isaac.’ She clinked her glass against his.

  ‘Ay, here’s to us, lass.’

  Mac put down his glass and picking up his pipe he pushed tobacco into the bowl with a stubby, tar-stained thumb. Elspeth didn’t mind this part of the ritual and in fact revelled in it since the manly odour of pipe smoke reminded her of the days when her father had been alive.

  ‘Well,’ Mac said at last, ‘it sounds to me as if Kate is just mad because we aren’t getting wed here, on Rhanna. I myself don’t mind where we tie the knot but I somehow didn’t bargain for a kirk wedding. At our time o’ life it should be something a bittie special, so just you let me have a wee think about it and I’ll see what I can come up with.’

  A silence descended. The minutes passed, Mac’s brow remaining furrowed in thought for quite some considerable time. When at last he came out of his reverie he did so with such force that Elspeth just about jumped out of her skin with fright.

  ‘I’ve got it! I�
�ve got it!’ he cried, slapping his knee and rocking back and forth in his chair, as excited as Elspeth had ever seen him. ‘It’s perfect! It’s wonderful! Why did I no’ think of it before?’

  Elspeth waited for the perfect wonderful thing to be revealed.

  ‘We’ll get wed aboard The Arian! The very steamer that ties up here on Rhanna three nights out o’ seven! Young Grant McKenzie is the skipper. I aye liked Grant and he’s one o’ you favourite McKenzies. He would be only too willing to help – and we could get our very own minister to marry us,’ he added hastily, seeing the expression of doubt creeping over Elspeth’s face.

  Leaning forward he took her hand in his big strong one, his brown eyes glowing as he went on, ‘Just think, lass, no one else on the whole of Rhanna has ever done anything like it! By jingo, you would be the toast o’ the place and the envy o’ all the women. You could set off a whole new trend, and everyone would get to see you in your bonny new wedding clothes.’

  That last bit appealed to Elspeth, as Mac had known it would. ‘Ay, Isaac,’ she breathed, an excited glow spreading over her face. ‘’Tis a thought, a really grand thought.’

  ‘We would have the wedding itself in the saloon o’ The Arian,’ Mac explained, ‘and maybe a dram or two afterwards – just for those who want to attend the ceremony. After they have gone ashore the rest o’ us can sail on to Oban for a wee reception in a nice hotel. I’ll arrange it, Elspeth, I’ll arrange everything, and maybe you could go to see the minister as soon as you can.’

  ‘You have a silver tongue in your head, Isaac McIntosh,’ Elspeth told him affectionately, utterly entranced by his proposals.

  She had not, as yet, purchased any ‘bonny new clothes’ but that same night she got out her mail order catalogue to thumb happily through the pages, while Mac smoked his pipe and sipped his burnt rum, as contented as any man could be who has just put the world to rights for his woman.

  Elspeth had a wonderful time with her catalogue. She spotted some lovely suits that would be just perfect for a special occasion but she couldn’t make up her mind about the colour and asked herself, should it be pink or lilac or perhaps a combination of the two?

  Her mind switched to the wedding guests. She would ask Phebie and Lachlan, of course, and their young ones, and the minister’s wife, Doctor Megan, would have to be there too . . . The only fly in the ointment was Mac’s cousin Gus, with his disgraceful personal habits and his unsavoury appearance. Long ago, and to herself, Elspeth had christened him Dis Gus Ting and, as far as she was concerned, he had certainly earned every letter of the title.

  But Gus wasn’t the only one of Elspeth’s worries; to a lesser extent there was Mac’s sister Nellie to contend with. Nellie did not approve of her brother’s relationship with Elspeth and had told him he was going ‘soft in the head’ to even consider marrying such a sour cailleach.

  Resolutely Elspeth pushed Gus and Nellie to the back of her mind. She would deal with them as and when the need arose, meanwhile she was determined not to let them spoil her happiness.

  At bedtime she took Mac’s hand in hers. ‘It won’t be long now, Isaac,’ she told him softly.

  ‘No, lass.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘You’ve kept me waiting a long time and I canny promise to behave like a gentleman in the bedroom when the grand night comes.’

  Her own eyes gleamed. ‘If you did, I would throw you out, and that’s a fact!’

  She walked sedately to her own room but once inside the door she clasped her hands to her mouth and stared at herself in the mirror. Soon, soon, she would show Behag and Kate McKinnon that she, Elspeth Morrison, was a woman of considerable worth, and she could hardly wait to see their faces and hear their comments when they heard that she was to be married aboard The Arian. Let them find fault with that if they could! Jealous witches!

  With that happy thought Elspeth went to bed to dream her happy dreams while next door Mac squirmed in his cold sheets and told himself that, for once, he would be glad to get married.

  Or, should that be twice? He was startled at the thought, but it was right enough, first to Mary, now to Elspeth. Fancy the like! He, Isaac McIntosh, having the courage to twice take the plunge, though, mind, Elspeth did keep a good tight ship and deserved a second chance herself, especially when she had netted a good catch like himself – the lucky cailleach!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rhanna was ablaze with spring colour; March had moved into April and tender green shoots were burgeoning everywhere. Fat sticky buds hung heavily on the trees, ready to burst open; the hill slopes were furred with young grasses, and the burns tumbled down through the corries, glinting and sparkling in the light of the sun.

  Everything was new and fresh and as Fergus walked along the Glen Fallan road to Slochmhor he took a deep breath of the clean fragrant air and felt glad of his own company for a while. The last two weeks had been hectic; everyone, it seemed, had found a reason to visit Laigmhor. The door had never stopped opening, a regular stream of ‘sightseers’, as Bob dourly called them, coming to ‘see was Fergus wanting anything’, when all the while what they really wanted was to see Fern Lee and speak to her so that they could discover for themselves the gory details about her ‘bad devil o’ a man’.

  The family, too, were never far from the place, with Fiona, Ruth, and Shona popping in at all hours of the day, and Grant, on the evenings that The Arian was berthed in Portcull, making sure that he spent a greater part of his off-duty hours keeping his father company.

  To cap it all, Ellie Dawn had joined ranks with Lorna to ‘look after Grampa’ and Lorna, feeling ousted from her position as chief grandad-sitter, had, in an attempt to regain her leadership, been more assertive with Ellie Dawn than usual, the result being that both little girls were wont to snipe at one another and look to Fergus for his support in their small wars.

  Fern Lee was not in the least perturbed by all this, rather she appeared to enjoy the whole thing, and when it was decided that Ellie Dawn should stay at Laigmhor to ‘keep Lorna happy’ she positively welcomed the addition of another child into the household and set out to look after them with such enthusiasm, it wasn’t long before the children were incurably bewitched by her and more determined than ever to remain in the house till ‘Gramma came home’.

  Fern was recovering well from her recent traumatic experiences and was growing more attractive with each passing day. There was a life and a passion about her that was almost spiritual, an excitement in her that endowed her with a charisma that made her glow and sparkle as if she was illuminated by some inner light. She hadn’t made any more flirtatious approaches to Fergus, but the promise of it was all there, in the flash of her dark eyes, the sensuous sway of her lithe body, the way she sat and moved, the intimate manner in which she brushed against him whenever she got the opportunity.

  There was also a restlessness in her that Fergus found worrying. For days she would content herself and really seemed to enjoy being there at Laigmhor with him, then quite without warning she would disappear, often for hours at a time, and when he questioned her about it she became vague and uncommunicative and said she had been ‘just walking’.

  Yet she was never seen in the village or in any of the most frequented places on the island. Once or twice, and with much amusement, she would recount some meeting she had had with old Dodie or Canty Tam, the two people who were most likely to wander the solitary places of Rhanna.

  Other than that she had nothing much to say about her mysterious sojourns away from the house and Fergus, himself desperate for some solitude in his life, could understand this. Also, he was becoming more and more convinced that she had the gypsy in her soul, not just because of her dark wild beauty, but from the way she moved and spoke and reacted to the world around her – in fact, all the aspects of her personality that he found so intriguing and difficult to resist.

  Each day he felt himself to be less in control of his own mixed emotions, feelings that made him restless and anxious and definitely uneasy that hi
s life had taken such a strange and unexpected turn. He told himself that he was glad Kirsteen was coming home within the next day or two, he was going to phone her now, to find out exactly when she would be arriving, and his steps quickened as he neared Slochmhor.

  He found Lachlan writing furiously at his little desk in the parlour, hardly looking up when his visitor announced himself from the kitchen.

  ‘Help yourself to the phone, man!’ Lachlan called. ‘It’s in here but if you don’t mind you can dial the number yourself. You ought to know it by now.’

  Fergus found himself entering the sanctum on tip-toe. Lachlan had been writing almost non-stop for the past two weeks. One article was already away to a well known Scottish magazine, another was in the pipeline. He was a self-taught typist, banging away painstakingly with two fingers on his little portable. The results weren’t always what he wanted them to be and crumpled balls of discarded paper had soon filled his waste-bin. After a few days, however, he had gotten into the swing of things; even so, it all took a great deal of time and effort, and he had practically shut himself away from the outside world in order to concentrate.

  But that didn’t stop the outside world coming to him. Elspeth, confined to her own house with a bad dose of flu, hadn’t been able to make her usual contribution to his welfare, but Fiona was always stopping by to make sure he was feeding himself properly; Ruth brought him tasty morsels from her own table and gave him helpful advice about his writing; Shona supplied him with hot meals along with reports on island activities, while Tina did wifely things for him, like taking home his washing, laying out his clean underwear, and generally doing for him in her placid, unobtrusive fashion.

  So all things considered he was being well taken care of and was progressing well with his journals, determined as he was to let Phebie see that he hadn’t been idle during her absence.