Daughter of the Tide

by Leah Fleming

  The clapping was still ringing in his ears but it faded away when she looked up at him leaning on the door of the Tulloch bar, smoking his pipe and talking with his group. He turned in her direction and stared at her, the brass buttons of his dark naval uniform flickering in the bonfire light. He was glad he had dressed for the dance in his uniform. He found himself pulled slowly towards her, smiling.

  ‘I thought it must be Dame Nellie Melba singing to her seals again. You took me back all those years ago… You know Johanna… and Duncan and Ishbel…’ he introduced his friends. They all nodded politely, looking at her with little interest.

  Johanna was brushing the folds of her dancing frock, which rustled when she turned. Then she held on to his arm. He found himself edging away. Jo was pleasant enough, a good friend, a pen pal. It was not as if they were sweethearts or anything mushy, but she was edging him away,

  ‘Come on everyone, the dancing’s going to start again. You’ve a lovely voice, Minna, you ought to get it trained…’

  Ewan paused for a second, hesitating as if to draw Minn along with the crowd into their circle of dancers, but the others strode ahead and called him once more. He ought to be polite but he wanted to talk to his old friend, to dance with her and touch her and it shocked him. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time. When did she become such a beauty? The pull of her was like the tide.

  *

  Minn’s heart sank. Her moment of glory was over. It was a hopeless cause to set her sights on a naval officer who was practically engaged. She would return home, not wishing to be a wallflower at the dancing. Turning to go, her arm was grabbed by Lachie Munn, her neighbour’s boy.

  ‘We’re short for the eightsome reel, Macfee… gie us yer hand!’ Reluctantly she was pushed into the formation of dancing groups and turned to face her partner with a heavy heart. Lachie Munn was about her stretch, she sighed, a fisherman from the same clachan of cottages on the shore. He was smiling at her hopefully but she ignored his grinning. There were better fish to fry than a laddie she could only recall at school with scabby knees and lugs like jug handles.

  Swung this way and that as the band struck up the music, Minn soon found herself caught up by the beat and the swirling couples. It was a progressive reel and the moment moved ever closer when she would be swung in the arms of Ewan dubh. She could hardly breathe waiting as his circle drew closer and closer. Then they were laughing and swinging round together and the weary world spun away like a top.

  She was dizzy with skipping and prancing, clasping Ewan’s firm hands as he spun her round so fast that she felt herself lifted off the floor into his arms. She gazed shamelessly into those dark eyes, drawing in the power of his undivided attention. He was smiling, responding to her signals and the rhythm of the dance, and suddenly there was no one on the beach but the two of them. Was there promise and admiration in his eyes or was she dreaming?

  Minn wanted the dancing to go on for ever, but in an hour the Sabbath would dawn and everyone would away to their beds. Just for this moment there was magic in the air. Her prayer had been answered by the warmth of Ewan’s firm arm around her waist and the look in his eye. Thank you. She winged a prayer heavenwards. He’s mine for the moment. It’s up to me now to make all other competition fade away.

  In those furtive glances something strange and wonderful was happening between them. Buoyed up by such emotions that Minn could hardly express, she felt she was swimming in a sea without a shore, floating endlessly across the world.

  How could one day in her life begin so quietly and end with such a roar?

  *

  She did not sleep a wink, listening to the crash of water on shingle. She felt like a restless tide, rising and falling, living those few precious moments of the dancing over and over again in her mind’s eye. She felt like the sea just before a storm when it heaves and sighs, tossing and turning until it was dawn and another quiet Sabbath must be endured.

  There was the long walk to church, the droning sermon, the cracking and gossip at the kirk door, the walk home, and then it must be endured all over again. Why could she not go back to the old kirk and see if Ewan was sitting in his family pew?

  This morning she wanted to sing and dance and shout her excitement to the world, but a Phetray Sunday was a day for walking sedately, reading spiritual books and praying. Her heart was racing with plans. Where can I go to meet him? Where can I go and not be noticed? I have to see him again, she prayed. Suddenly she knew: there was only one place possible safe from prying eyes.

  Minn walked slowly along the coastal path gathering wild flowers as she had done as a child: blue harebells, golden vetchlings, honey-scented bedstraw, clover to make a posy for Agnes’s grave.

  At the crossroads close to Balenottar Point was the little cemetery set on a hillock where the weathered gravestones with backs to the sea looked out over the island eastwards. It was a peaceful spot to sit and mull over all that was happening in her heart.

  *

  It must have been some sixth sense that brought Ewan to the window of the manse from where he could see a girl in a faded cotton frock gathering flowers from the machair.

  Months away from home had made him hungry for its timeless beauty, the brightness of the sun on water, the white sands, shimmering waves frilled with white spume, the diving terns and the kittiwakes, the carpets of flowers. Phetray was all the colours of the rainbow. It was criss-crossed by just a few roads strung with white cottages streamlined for life against the gales, harsh in winter; but spring came early and now there was such beauty. Minn was part of his island and he must speak to her again.

  He shot down the stairs of the manse through the back door that led to the wrought iron gate, on to the path. He knew where she was heading and this time he did not turn from the sight of her as he had once, years ago, but squatted down by her side as she placed the flowers in the little urn. He could hardly breathe for the nearness of her.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve not forgotten her,’ he whispered. ‘It never goes away from you, does it… what happened all those years ago? I’m glad I’ve caught you here, I do so want to explain… It troubled me that we never talked about the accident. When I saw you here all those years ago, I flunked it. I should never have taught you both to swim… I blame myself. I gather you were shunned in the school after I left… I’m sorry.’

  ‘Say no more, Ewan… it is all past and we cannot hold the tide by the wishing of it,’ she replied, her blue eyes staring into his.

  ‘Aggie was your friend… I wanted to clear the air… No one knows but us how it all happened. Agnes wouldn’t want us to go on punishing ourselves, would she?’ He must have looked so sad that Minn reached out to touch him but drew back blushing.

  ‘To tell the honest truth, I’ve no memory of it still, just flashes and sounds,’ she confessed and rose to brush down her skirt and make for the road.

  ‘Don’t go yet, Minn… I’ve not told you how much I enjoyed your singing last night. You looked like a mermaid in the moonlight singing a siren song to lonely sailors. Do you remember how you used to sing to the seals and we laughed and called you Dame Nellie Melba?’ he smiled feeling his pulse racing.

  ‘It was good of you to speak to me when you were with your friends. I thought you would’ve forgotten those days before Agnes…’

  Ewan drew to his full height and gazed down at her.

  ‘How could I forget my old sparring partner. There are good memories with the bad, Minn. I would have asked you to join us but you know how it is…’ His voice trailed into an apologetic mutter.

  ‘Is Johanna your sweetheart?’ she blurted out, being still as blunt and direct as she was as a child.

  ‘Not exactly… We’ve always been chums. We write to each other. Our families are friendly. I suppose one day they expect we’ll… but the war will change everyone’s plans.’ He was trying to be honest with her.

  ‘I see,’ Minn gulped, drawing back her gaze from him.

  ‘Have yo
u anyone special to be dancing with?’ Ewan sounded casual but he was anxious to know the truth. Minn to his relief shook her head.

  ‘I’m waiting for all the boys in blue to fill the island and then I’ll take my pick,’ she laughed.

  ‘Be careful! Some of those chaps can be tricky. Here today, gone tomorrow.’ Ewan’s face grew stem. Now he had found her he didn’t want to share her with anyone.

  ‘Like you sailors with a girl in every port, then? Don’t worry I can take care of myself. I have to go.’ Minn turned for the path but he blocked her way.

  ‘Do you fancy a walk later… down to the cove, not down there where we… but to the Singing Beach in the hidden valley? The flowers are still blooming fine.’

  ‘I have to go to church again with mother but yes, later…’ Minn answered, clearly surprised by this unexpected invitation.

  ‘I’ll wait for you after church by the finger post and we’ll catch up on all you’ve been up to since I’ve been away. You can tell me all the gossip then! See you soon.’ He made a mock salute and touched her arm. He could feel sparks shooting from where his fingers pressed on her sunburnt skin.

  ‘Tonight it is,’ she laughed, bounding down the path like a puppy.

  It would not be long before the whole island knew where the minister’s son was walking out and who with, but he didn’t care.

  *

  The weeks sped by in a dreamlike trance for Minn as their paths crossed and re-crossed until they stopped making lame excuses and accepted that there was a serious attraction. She was packing messages into a box for the weekly orders in the grocery storeroom when Ewan appeared from nowhere with a bunch of garden roses.

  ‘These are for your mother, and can you come to tea tomorrow after work? I want you to come to the manse and meet the folks. It’s time we all got together; no more skulking in coves and corners. I’m going to ask your mother if you can come.’

  When Minn got home from Kilphetrish her mother was in a flurry of consternation after this unexpected visitation. The roses were stuck in Keillor marmalade jars in pride of place.

  ‘To think you are walking out with the minister’s son! Susan Mackinnon will no like that, to be sure, her son cavorting with a cottar.’ Eilidh sighed. ‘Mind what you say… say nothing but sit straight and don’t shame yerself. I dare say you know how to behave in a parlour but you’re going against the natural order o’ things… not that he’s not a braw young man and kind with it. You could do far worse, but mind, he’s a sailor and away soon to fight a war. Don’t pin your hopes too much on it, mo ghaoil.’

  For days before the visit she searched through the small case of clothes she had rescued from Lady Rose’s cast-offs. Even though it was warm she chose a fine woollen jumper and a skirt that needed the hem letting down and patching. She brushed her hair into a modest coil. It was important to give the right impression that this cottar girl knew how to dress for company.

  She found herself sitting in the manse parlour stiffly, trying to hold her cup and saucer with care, trying not to stare at the clutter of books and papers, prints and photographs, trying not to look at Agnes, who was staring out of a silver frame with her black ringlets and serious look, overseeing all the proceedings.

  Susan Mackinnon sat like a ramrod, eyeing the visitor’s every movement with disapproval, sapping Minn’s confidence until she could only squeak when she was spoken to.

  ‘Ewan tells me you visit Agnes’s grave, Minna. That’s good of you. It must be hard to live with such an event on your conscience,’ said the minister’s wife, making Minn want to rush out of the stuffy room; but she bowed her head and said nothing.

  ‘What Mother means is that none of us can forget such a terrible accident,’ Ewan interrupted, staring at his mother with dismay. ‘Minn is helping out at the stores and Mr Niven is teaching her to drive the van in case he’s called up.’

  ‘Do you intend to join the forces, then?’ Mrs Mackinnon ignored his pleasantries, looking at her with expectation.

  ‘I think I’ll be needed here now that Uncle Niall has to go away.’

  ‘Ah yes! Niall Macfee! We’ve not seen him in church for many a year. Do you think it wise for a woman to drive a vehicle? It may come to the wearing of breeks, I’m after thinking, and that is an indecent proposition, don’t you think?’

  Minn swallowed her tea feeling like a skivvy caught on her knees scrubbing the grand hall, out of place, out of her depth in this venomous atmosphere. Then she saw the figurine and smiled.

  ‘What a lovely piece of porcelain, Mrs Mackinonn. Do you mind if I take a closer look?’

  ‘Help yourself but don’t drop it, it’s Sèvres.’

  Minn grasped the figurine firmly and looked at its mark with enthusiasm. ‘Actually, I think it may be a Chelsea piece, look at the anchor mark.’ She saw the glare on the minister’s wife’s face and knew she’d said the wrong thing.

  ‘I see they taught you something then at the Crannog. It’s only a trinket. Does it matter who made it?’

  There was a deafening pause and Ewan passed round a plate of shortbread. Minn was in no doubt now that Susan Mackinnon was not happy with her son’s choice of girlfriend. She was going through the motions for the sake of propriety. They were all relieved when the maid took out the tea tray and Ewan made excuses for them to escape into the sunshine to forget this grilling.

  ‘I’m sorry. I thought she’d be pleased for us. I thought she would soften when she met you properly. It was a pity Father was out on a call. I’m sure he would have welcomed you more warmly.’

  She was embarrassed by his apology. ‘It doesn’t matter, Ewan.’ Minn shrugged her shoulders. It was only to be expected in this narrow little island that tongues would wag and fingers would point at this unexpected courtship.

  *

  Then suddenly the weeks of waiting were over and Ewan’s call back to base was days away. They walked in silence knowing this was their last night together, strolling slowly towards their favourite beach only too aware of the power growing between them. Minn sensed that this glorious summer was coming to an end. The tide was turning and Ewan would leave and perhaps never return. She couldn’t bear to think about not seeing his face every day. Since he had made her special, walked her around the island proudly, she felt as if the everyday world going on around them, crofters harvesting the fields, fishermen at their nets and children playing tag, faded into a grey mist. Even her own boring duties just drifted in this trance.

  Only once did she think of Johnna Macallum waiting patiently for Ewan in her father’s house, wondering why his visits had dried up so suddenly. How could she know that Ewan was always for her alone. Only when he was by her side could she see clearly, breathe deeply, but his days were numbered on the island and his leave was ending. She didn’t dare count how many hours they had left.

  Soon he would sail for the mainland or maybe overseas. She was digging into every moment, clinging to his strong body, afraid it would vanish like the morning mist.

  They lay in the sand dunes in the hideaway cove named in Gaelic Traigh gaodh nan seinn, beach of the singing winds; a deserted beach where few locals ever bothered to fish.

  Ewan was fingering her hair in wonderment. ‘No one else has hair as white as yours. It’s like spun gold, made from the sun and the moon. Your mother is dark, so is it your father we must thank for such mermaid’s hair?’

  ‘All of Phetray must know who my father was but me. My mother will not say, but your father must know of him,’ she replied.

  Ewan shook his head. ‘You were born before we came here. I doubt if he knows anything.’

  ‘They must think badly of me,’ Minn sighed.

  ‘Don’t care what they think. It’s what we think that matters. Will you write to me every day and when we are old we can read our letters to each other again?’ he said, staring out to sea. ‘Think of this war as just an interruption.’

  ‘If only it were… I’m afraid, Ewan. What’ll happen to us? What if you
don’t return?’ Those dreadful words were let loose out of her mouth into the air.

  ‘Just remember we were meant for each other, you and I, sealed by the sea and the waves. When I first heard you singing and when I saw you dancing on the shore. I’ve not been a saint. There have been other girls, but I knew there’d never been anyone to match you. It’s simple. Who cares who your father is or was or has been? We can make our own destiny, you and I. Write to me every day. Promise? I’ll leave you lots of stamps. I’ll buy up all the stamps at the post office and shock poor Miss Macfadyen with my need of them!’ He lay back, fingering up her back, making her shiver.

  ‘I’ll join the navy and follow you to sea, so I will. Perhaps your mother will think better of me then.’ Minn had no intention now of being left behind.

  ‘No,’ said Ewan firmly. ‘You must stay here and support your mother. I want to know you are safe here for me to come home to one day. There will be much to do when the men leave. Women like you will have to see to the land and the boats. You’ll be sorely needed here. Promise me you’ll never leave the island. Stay safe for me. I couldn’t bear anything to harm you now that we have found each other, mo ghaoil. Promise me?’

  They knelt on the warm sand of Traigh gaodh nan seinn and held hands. She looked into those dark eyes, meaning every word of her vow.

  ‘I, Minna Macfee promise to stay here and wait for your return. I swear on Agnes’s grave that I will keep this promise, with the help of God,’ she whispered

  Ewan held her face in his hands. ‘And I, Ewan George Mackinnon, promise to return to you, all of a piece. Then I’ll never leave you again. That’s my solemn promise.’ They kissed each other to seal this vow. ‘If I had a ring I’d be giving it to you, here and now,’ he said.

  ‘I need no ring to know you mean every word you say.’ Minn smiled into his eyes. They kissed each other shyly, tenderly, but then the kissing grew more urgent and deep as if they were melting into each other, harder and more passionate until Minn was dizzy and drunk with happiness, holding him ever closer into her body, feeling the fire of his response until all her mother’s dire warnings exploded like a firework in her head and she drew back.