Time was the most important factor in a case like this; the only thing to do was to lift anchor and get to Rhanna as speedily as possible. He went to the door. Niall was still on his knees beside his unconscious daughter, his shoulders hunched like an old man, shock lying stark across his face. He seemed incapable of action, so unlike the practical Niall that Mac knew so well. Mac made him take a swallow of brandy which was kept for emergencies. Mechanically his throat worked, he swallowed and coughed but kept on staring down at his daughter with unbelieving eyes.
The old sailor realized that the job of getting them back to dry land lay with him. Once more he tried the radio, but it was worse than ever and he abandoned it in favour of more practical action, glad of the chance to be doing something that he knew about. In a short time they were ready to go, soon Breac Beag was just a blur on a misty horizon. The storm had receded, the rain had been short-lived, but now a low haze lay over the water which made Mac curse.
Tubby had rolled from the towel into which he had been so carefully wrapped and stood on his hind legs chittering quietly. He dropped down on all fours and went shuffling over to touch Ellie’s face with his cold, inquisitive nose; getting no response he dumped himself down beside her to curl himself into a ball, a pitiful lost cry at the back of his throat, like a baby waiting for its mother to come back from a long deep sleep.
Chapter Twelve
The boat came round the headland of Mara Òran Bay and Mac, at the wheel, gave heartfelt thanks as the harbour hove into view. Despite the haze on the water he had made good time and felt more hopeful at the prospect of delivering Ellie into Lachlan’s capable hands.
Lachlan waited fretfully at the harbour with Babbie and a few of the village men who were standing by to offer their help. Everyone had wondered whether to take the lifeboat out to meet the expected vessel but had decided against it as being of little help since it wasn’t clear which direction to look. The thunderstorm which had hit the island earlier had departed, leaving behind a misted blue evening with a calm sea reflecting the fishing boats tied up at the jetty. The Highland cattle had come down to cool their feet in the shallows and stood in a row, silently enjoying the cool comfort of the water; sheep bleated from the headland of Burg; seabirds called peacefully; the echoes of children’s laughter drifted across the bay. It was an idyllic scene but Lachlan was growing impatient, his gaze focused seawards till the glare from the water forced him to look away.
‘Come on,’ he voiced his thoughts. ‘Whoever they are they will have a dead body on their hands if they don’t get a move on.’
‘It depends on the extent of the burns,’ soothed Babbie. ‘It might not be as bad as we’ve been imagining.’
Over the years she had come to know Lachlan well and she knew fine that his nerves would stretch tighter and tighter till he could put his skills and energies to good use. Not that he had so much energy of late. She couldn’t help noticing the changes age was bringing to him, the signs of strain on his face, making it look gaunt at times. But at the sight of the boat his face cleared. The coastguard at Oban had been through to Behag again, telling her that they thought the name of the stricken boat was The Sturgeon, though they couldn’t be certain of this. Lachlan’s fingers tightened on the handle of his bag, as if he couldn’t wait to get going.
The boat came nearer and Ranald, his binoculars at his eyes, threw back, ‘It’s no’ her at all, Doctor, it’s The Sea Urchin comin’ home. Niall must have decided to come back early.’
Lachlan’s eyes lit. God, it would be good to have them back! Shona might stop moping with Niall at home – perhaps they could all go for a picnic together, the McLachlans and the McKenzies – like that grand affair they had had one Easter over by Traigh Mor Bay. It was time they had a day like that again and Phebie could be doing with a change. So buoyed up did he feel that for an instant he even forgot why he was here at the harbour instead of at home with his feet up enjoying precious hours of relaxation.
Ranald’s eyes blurred and the boat went out of focus, but not before he had noticed the blackened paintwork. His hand shook, it couldn’t be . . . He called on Tam who squatted down beside him and held up the glasses. Tam’s good-natured face puckered into a grimace of disbelief.
‘It’s her all right,’ he murmured, horrified. ‘She’s the boat who got the coastguard to wire through a message to Behag.’
They both scrambled to their feet, their affection and concern for the doctor and his family showing in the dumb, agonized glances they threw at one another. The boat was coming closer, soon she would be tying up at the jetty where a space had been kept clear. Tam’s throat worked. What to do, what to say, how to say it . . .
‘Doctor, she’s the boat we’ve been waitin’ for!’ It was out, unvarnished and raw, the words reeling harshly through the air. Tam’s chin trembled and turning, he hurried away, the other men following on his heels, running to the jetty to await the boat.
For a few moments Lachlan didn’t move. He looked as though he had just been punched, his eyes, dazed and blank, registered nothing. Babbie was aware that her legs were shaking. She stared at The Sea Urchin nearing the jetty. It couldn’t be – her senses swam. Which one of the people on board had been injured? Captain Mac? That lovable old sea dog who in his time had weathered storm, flood, in his early days, a shipwreck . . . or . . . She couldn’t think further, instead she prayed silently, God, God, whoever it is don’t let them suffer. Don’t let this man Lachlan know the pain of tending someone he loves . . . She was running beside Lachlan, forcing herself to keep up with his long, desperate stride. They reached the jetty as the boat was tying up. The men were at the foot of the steps ready to help . . . Lachlan cleared his throat and watched as one hypnotized as the men came up carrying a white wrapped bundle, their faces haggard, shocked—
‘Ellie!’ Lachlan’s cry of recognition was a protest. His mouth twisted, almost as if it was painful to say the name. She was a crumpled small bundle, this beloved grandchild of his, held in Tam’s arms, her golden hair spilling in a silken cascade against the rough tweed of his jacket. Gently Lachlan lifted the sheet aside – he didn’t look again, instead he focused his attention on Ellie’s face. She was awake, her brown eyes watching him, so big in the pale canvas of her face they were pools, sucking him in, drowning him in their pathos.
‘I’m sorry, Grandpa,’ she whispered. ‘It was an accident, I was careful, I really was.’ She shivered violently; a spasm passed over her features.
‘It’s all right, babby,’ Lachlan assured her hoarsely. ‘You lie still like a good wee lassie and we’ll have you in Slochmhor in no time.’
He took Babbie’s arm and pulled her aside. ‘She’s bad, Babbie, hardly any pain which means severe third degree burns. We’ll have to get her to hospital – could you go and phone the laird? Tell him to get round here fast. We’ll have to get her over to Barra and his is the fastest boat hereabouts. Alert the airport at Barra, tell them to have a plane standing by. Meanwhile I’m going to get her to my house as quickly as I can . . .’
Babbie squeezed his arm and went swiftly away. Niall was coming up the steps, trying to hide his injured hands from his father’s eyes. But he needn’t have worried. His father greeted him distractedly, his whole being taken up with Ellie to whom he was administering emergency treatment. Todd was coming down from the Smiddy, driving the big silver limousine he had won in a competition some years back.
‘Get the bairn into this, Doctor,’ he shouted as soon as he was within hearing distance. ‘It has more room than yours and she will be at your house in no time.’ Niall, heedless of his hands, gathered up his daughter and ran with her to the car, his father at his side.
‘Grandpa,’ Ellie’s light voice came faintly. ‘I want to go home to my own bonny room.’
Lachlan hesitated. Mo Dhachaidh was further away than Slochmhor and he had to be ready to get Ellie to the pier as soon as the laird arrived with his boat. He saw the silent plea in his granddaughter’s eyes an
d relented just as Babbie returned, her nod telling him that help was arriving.
Old Isabel had brought down a pile of pillowcases from her house and Babbie wound two round Niall’s hands. But he had no thought for himself and sat with Ellie in the front seat, talking to her quietly, nuzzling her hair with his lips. Her eyes were growing lethargic and Lachlan glanced at her frequently, apprehension in his troubled eyes.
Shona put down the phone as if she had been scalded. She had received the call from the Post Office, warning her that Ellie had been involved in an accident and was being taken to the doctor’s house. For once Behag was gentle and sympathetic, a gruffness in her voice at the thought of the little girl who came to her shop to buy sweets, a smile never far from her bonny face. She was the only one of the McLachlan/McKenzie clan that Behag really liked or understood, and there were tears of genuine sorrow in her eyes as she returned the receiver to its hook.
Something happened to Shona after hearing the news. She went numb from head to foot, her skin feeling as her mouth did after a visit to the dentist’s. She remembered nothing of running to Slochmhor, of breaking the news to Phebie, of the deep shock that showed in her round, pleasant face. Vaguely Shona knew that Elspeth had come into the room, the structure of her normally expressionless face collapsing with emotional pain. More and more these days she stayed beyond her working hours, finding comfort in the friendly atmosphere of Slochmhor, which totally lacked the sterile emptiness of her own home where she was wont to talk aloud for the sake of hearing a human voice.
‘No’ Ellie?’ she whimpered, her love for Niall’s child going back to her birth. ‘It canny be wee Ellie.’
Todd’s car flashed past the window and Phebie recognized its occupants. All three women ran outside and over the glen road, arriving in time to see Niall disappearing upstairs with Ellie.
Shona whirled round on Lachlan but before she could speak his arms were round her shoulders and he was saying quietly, ‘We’re hoping to get her over to Barra, Babbie has phoned to tell them to have a plane standing by to take her to hospital. She’ll need a lot of specialized care that I canny give her here.’
Shona shook her head as if to clear it. ‘How – how bad is she, Lachlan?’
He took a deep breath. ‘Very bad, I’m afraid. I’m going up now to see what I can do for her. Todd’s away down to wait at the harbour and will come back to let us know when the laird’s boat arrives.’
He went quickly upstairs and Phebie lifted her white apron to bury her face in it, her sobs coming quietly and helplessly.
‘I knew something was going to happen,’ Shona spoke as if to herself. ‘I haven’t felt easy for weeks now – I knew – but I didn’t think – it would be Ellie.’
‘It was an accident, lass.’ Captain Mac stood in the kitchen door, his nut-brown face suspiciously wet. ‘We left her to make dinner and the chip pan got knocked over.’ From his jacket he extracted the baby otter. ‘She saved this wee cratur’. Take it to her, she’ll be wantin’ to see how is he keepin’.’
Automatically Shona took the otter and went with it upstairs, her movements oddly mechanical, her steps never faltering as they approached Ellie’s room. Lachlan was gently bathing her in cool water, his nerves stretched as he waited for Todd to come back with news of the laird’s boat. He didn’t dwell on the possibility that it might not come, instead he kept his mind busy with a hundred and one things that would have to be done when it arrived. They would have to get Ellie to the harbour quickly, after that it would be a matter of time before she was safely in hospital. He had carried out an examination of her that confirmed his worst fears. Most of her body had been affected by third degree burns, involving the dermis and epidermis. He guessed that the nerve endings below the skin had been destroyed, the reason she wasn’t showing signs of feeling much pain. In fact, though pale, she was extremely calm, her eyes lighting at sight of Tubby in her mother’s arms.
‘Put him beside me,’ she requested. ‘And could I have Woody as well? She can snuggle on my pillow and keep my ears warm – Mother—’ Her eyes were suddenly troubled. ‘Don’t be angry with me – the fire was an accident. I’ll never let anything like it happen again, I promise.’
‘I’m not angry with you.’ Shona laid her hand on her daughter’s brow and smiled, hardly sparing a glance for Niall who, crouched by the bed, his grimy face hollow and exhausted, was obviously in a state of deep distress. Woodenly he allowed Babbie to tend his hands then quickly returned to the bedside.
‘We had a good time, didn’t we, Ellie?’ His tones were desperate, clutching at straws of normality.
‘Ay, Father, the best ever . . .’ Her voice was suddenly weak, her skin had taken on a transparent pallor. Lachlan jumped up to feel her brow and take the pulse in her neck. It was weak and rapid, the skin on her face was cold and moist. He turned white. It was what he had dreaded most, the signs of delayed shock. She was speaking, asking for a drink and he went immediately to take a cup from the tray of tea Phebie had just brought in, pouring away most of it, topping it up with hot water. He held the cup to Ellie’s lips and she drank feebly, whimpering a little, complaining of feeling sick.
‘Isn’t the laird here yet?’ he demanded harshly of no one in particular. Niall seemed unable to function properly and made no move from the bedside and it was Babbie who ran down to ask Captain Mac to go out and look for signs of Todd. Just then the door burst open to admit Fergus and Kirsteen. Fergus’s eyes were black coals in his face, a muscle was working in his jaw.
‘Todd just told us,’ he grated. He swung round on Babbie, a million questions on his lips and rapidly she explained the situation.
‘As bad as that?’ Kirsteen had difficulty getting the words out.
‘Christ Almighty!’ Fergus balled his fist. ‘Not our Ellie! She’s only a wee lass—’ He swung round again. ‘Is she in pain?’ he ground out urgently. Babbie shook her head, and relief flooded his eyes, making it impossible for her to tell him that it would have been better if Ellie had emerged from the accident crying aloud in agony, the difference perhaps between life and death.
Todd came in, his round face perspiring, imparting the news that the laird had just come into harbour and was standing by ready.
Babbie ran upstairs, ready to blurt out the news, knowing it would stir everybody into much longed for action. But she stopped dead in the doorway, arrested by the sound of Phebie sobbing; the strange, unreal sight of Shona calmly straightening the collection of skulls on the dresser, straightening the bed, her movements wooden, puppet-like.
Lachlan was bending over the bed, his face a ghastly grey colour, the lock of his hair falling over his brow, his long, sensitive fingers lingering on his granddaughter’s soft hair before they came down to gently close the lids over her eyes.
‘It’s as well.’ His voice was a mere whisper. ‘If she’d lived she would have gone through hell – her arms – her legs – so bad – she might never have walked again.’ When he stood up his face was livid with grief and he seemed to have aged ten years in the last few minutes.
Shona was looking down at her daughter, her hand raised as if to touch the smooth young face, but she seemed to think better of it and allowed her hand to drop back to her side, as if it was too heavy to uphold. ‘She got her wish anyway,’ Shona spoke for the first time since her last words to her daughter. ‘Like Peter Pan – she never did – grow up.’
A strangled sob escaped Niall who had been kneeling motionless by the bed. Reaching forward he pulled his child onto his knee so that her head was resting in the crook of his arm. Burying his face into her hair he began to rock back and forth, back and forth, his shoulders convulsed with harsh, helpless sobs.
‘Ellie, Ellie!’ he cried aloud in his agony. ‘My wee Ellie! I love you, my wee lamb. Don’t leave your daddy, you’re mine, my babby, my own bonny little babby! Don’t go, Ellie, don’t go, I won’t be able to live without you!’
Shona glanced at his bowed head. The fair threads of
his hair mingled with Ellie’s gold; the white, ragged scar showed up vividly on the taut skin of his neck; his tears were spilling over Ellie, soaking her hair, her face . . .
As Lachlan and Phebie went to comfort their son, Shona walked away, past Babbie at the door, downstairs to the parlour where Fergus and Kirsteen were impatiently waiting and Todd and Mac paced the floor, wondering what was holding things up.
‘You won’t be needing the laird’s boat.’ Shona imparted the news unemotionally. ‘Ellie died a few minutes ago.’
The stunned faces were white blobs in her vision. Fergus came to her quickly, put his arm around her to draw her close. He was as hard and strong as he had always been but she could feel his grief, like a crawling nerve, tightening his muscles, trembling through his limbs. He pulled back to look at his daughter, his black eyes pain-wracked, puzzled. He studied her, trying to see what was in the pale lovely face, the wonderful eyes which gave away so much of what she was feeling, thinking. But he saw nothing, only a blankness that didn’t make sense.
Her throat worked, her voice came out, normal and steady. Reaching out she lightly touched his shoulder. ‘I’m fine, Father, really, I just want to be alone for a whily – none of this is quite real yet—’ She drifted away towards the kitchen and Kirsteen went to Fergus to hold him tightly. ‘Oh, Fergus,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘What will it be like for her when she comes out of that waking dream?’
‘A nightmare,’ he said and sounded afraid.
She shook her head. ‘It brings it all back, everything we try to forget. It’s less than a year since Lewis died and now – now Ellie. Will the luck of the McKenzies ever turn – will it?’
‘It’s life, Kirsteen,’ he murmured and his voice broke. How he had loved his eldest grandchild. She had brought joy and light into his life – into all their lives . . .
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