Orkney Mystery
Miranda Barnes
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter One
She had been warned that the Pentland Firth was a lot rougher than the English Channel. That was proven to be true as soon as the ship left the harbour at Scrabster, just outside Thurso, and ventured out into the wild seas beyond the north coast of mainland Scotland. Orkney, invisible in the mist and the spray, seemed impossibly far away as the ship began to lurch and sway alarmingly.
Well, they did warn me, Emma thought with a grimace, as her stomach experienced turmoil. They did tell me not to bother coming here. There was no need for it, Anna and Kim both said. And it was true. There wasn't. I didn't have to come. I could have gone on holiday with them. I'm sure Aunt Freda wouldn't have minded, bless her. But did I listen? Oh, no. Not me! I had to do it my way, as usual.
Gripping tables and head rests desperately for support, she lurched across the lounge and collapsed thankfully into a vacant seat. I could have been amongst the Greek islands with my friends, she reminded herself, enjoying warm spring sunshine and a flat, tranquil sea. Dancing in a taverna on the beach. Sipping wine at the day's end. Or just coming out of the sea, to let the sun dry my beautifully tanned skin. My hair curly with sun and sea, she added even more fancifully.
Instead, here I am. Having to put up with this! Serves me right for being so stubborn and contrary. Oh, why didn't I listen? I'm going to be sick. Any minute now, I'm going to .... Oh, I hate this ship! I hate Orkney, as well, even though I haven't seen it yet.
An elderly woman sitting in a neighbouring seat leant forward and smiled sympathetically. 'Is the ship's movement getting to you?' she asked.
'Just a little,' Emma admitted with another grimace. 'I'm not a good sailor. I should have flown.'
'Oh, no! This is by far the best way to travel to the islands. Just try to relax, dear. Stop obsessing about your poor stomach. Don't even think about it!'
'I'm trying very hard already. Really I am.'
'And doing very well, if you don't mind my saying so. Och, away! You'll be fine once you find your sea legs.'
Such confidence, Emma thought miserably. I wish I had some of it. As for my sea legs, I don't believe I have any, and never have had.
'At least we'll be across the Firth before the storm arrives,' the woman added. 'I doubt there'll be any more sailings after this one for a day or so.'
'A storm?' Emma shuddered. 'Don't tell me there's going to be a storm as well!'
The woman nodded. 'So they say, the weather forecasters. And they're usually right about what they say for the Northern Isles.'
That shut Emma up, as again she considered how she hadn't really needed to be here. A storm? Wasn't what they had right now enough?'
'Is this your first visit to Orkney?' the woman asked.
Emma nodded. Her smile froze for a moment as the ship dropped sickeningly. Then she rallied as it rose back up again, and she added bravely, 'I've been across the Channel a few times, though. So I hoped I would be all right.'
'Oh? Which channel will that be, dear?'
'The English ....' Emma stopped when she saw the woman was smiling mischievously. 'Mind you,' she added with a chuckle, 'each time the ferry left Dover I decided I would fly the next time.'
Her companion laughed. 'I've been from Dover to Calais myself. But the English Channel is not a bit like the Pentland Firth. There's nothing to compare with genuine Scottish weather and seas, I can assure you – unless it's what they have around the Faroes and Iceland!'
'And Greenland, perhaps?' Emma said with a smile, warming to this friendly soul who had such a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
'Indeed. Greenland, too. I often feel so sorry for the poor fishermen that go off up that way, especially in the depths of winter. But they're hardy people. They manage, just as islanders always have done.'
'I was going to go to a Greek island with my friends,' Emma said ruefully, 'but something came up, and I changed my mind. I hope I've not made a mistake.'
'Och, no! Of course you haven't. You'll not regret coming to Orkney, storm or no storm. I've lived here all my life, and I can tell you now there's no place like it.'
Emma wasn't sure that was a recommendation worth anything more than a diplomatic smile. Already, she regretted coming. She wouldn't have been on this ship if she'd gone to Greece instead.
'Now, if you'll excuse me,' the woman added, 'I must be away to look in the peedie shop they have onboard. I have grandbairns who will be expecting me to bring them something from my trip to Scotland, and I didn't have time to look around for anything in Thurso.'
The peedie shop? Emma wondered. What on earth was that?
Later, when she was more used to the movement of the ferry, and her stomach was no longer sending out shrieks of discomfort, and even outrage, Emma wondered if the woman was right to be so sure she would enjoy Orkney. She certainly hoped so. This trip was taking a big chunk out of her annual holiday allowance. She didn't want it to be wasted.
Not that it would be wasted, of course, even if she hated the place. After all, she reminded herself, she wasn't really coming for a holiday, not as such. She was coming to see the house, and to decide what to do with it. That was the only reason she was here at all really, aboard this dreadful ship.
After all, when all was said and done, if someone was so kind as to leave you a house in their will, the very least you could do – after saying, or thinking, thank-you, of course – was to look at it before you sold it. She owed Aunt Freda that much, even if she couldn't recall ever actually meeting the dear old lady.
Chapter Two
A little later still, she summoned up enough courage to venture out on to the viewing deck at the rear of the ship. By then, her stomach was becoming a little more accustomed to the wild lurching and swaying, the upward thrusts and the sickening drops. Disaster still threatened, was still very possible, but it wasn't quite so imminent. She didn't feel she was about to be violently sick at any minute. Her hope was that a breath of fresh air might help settle things down even more.
Far from a breath of fresh air, she got a full blast of it in her face when she negotiated the air lock between two doors and stepped outside. The wind was ferocious. She ducked her head and closed her eyes for a moment to deal with the shock.
'Steady!'
A hand gripped her by the elbow. She opened her eyes and tried to smile at the man supporting her. He looked concerned.
'This wind!' she said apologetically. 'It took my breath away for a moment.'
'I saw that. You OK now?'
'Yes, thank you.
'
'There's a bit of shelter on this side,' the man said, steering her away from the doorway and into an alcove shielded from the wind.
She nodded her thanks and straightened up to look around. 'Oh! Are we there already?' she asked, seeing a dark line of cliffs through the mist.
The man shook his head. 'Not yet. It'll be another hour before we reach Stromness. That's the island of Hoy coming up there, on the starboard side.'
Emma stared out at the approaching island with apprehension. All she could see was a long, towering wall of rock. Waves were breaking at the foot of it in a white fury and sending spray high up the cliff face.
'Hoy?' she said, thinking the name sounded vaguely familiar.
'Indeed,' the man said. 'And if you look closely, you can pick out the Old Man of Hoy, just over there.'
She peered through the mist and gloom. At first she couldn't see what he meant.
'The rock pinnacle. See it?'
'Oh, yes! Now I can – I think.'
A slender tower of rock stood in front of the high cliff face, separated from it by the raging sea.
'They call that pinnacle the Old Man of Hoy?'
'They do indeed.'
'Oh, yes! Hasn't someone climbed it?' she asked with a puzzled frown. 'I seem to remember noticing something in the paper about it a while back, but surely that would be impossible?'
'It's been climbed a few times, actually. Back in the 'sixties, a TV crew broadcast a live programme of a team led by Joe Brown climbing it over a three-day period. But last year, Chris Bonington, the man who made the very first ascent, came back to climb it again to mark his eightieth birthday.'
'Goodness!' Emma was astonished. It seemed an utterly impossible feat. How could anyone at all climb it, let alone someone that age?
'And that's the Old Man of Hoy for you!' her companion said with a grin. 'This your first visit to the islands?' he added, changing tack.
She nodded, and then lurched sideways as the ship began to turn. The man grabbed her by the elbow again and said, 'You'll find your sea legs eventually.'
'If I live that long,' she said grimly, thinking it was the second time she had been told that.
He laughed.
'But if it happens, it can't come soon enough,' Emma assured him, managing a token smile. 'At least I feel better out here on deck. My stomach has stopped trying to leave me.'
'I always feel better outside,' he said, nodding agreement. 'Mother likes to be inside, out of the wind, but I prefer it out here. Where is she, by the way?'
'Who?' she asked, puzzled.
'Mother. I saw you talking to her in the lounge.'
'Oh, that nice old lady? I didn't realise. She said she was off to the peedie shop, whatever that is.'
He laughed. 'Little – little shop, she meant.'
'Ah!'
'You'll no doubt hear a few more new words while you're up here in Orkney. Holiday, is it?'
'Sort of. I'm just visiting, at least. How about you?'
'Oh, I'm a native – like Mother. Our family has always lived here. Kirkwall, the capital, is where we live. Where are you headed, by the way?'
'A place on Mainland called Birsay. Do you know it?'
He nodded. 'My brother lives there.'
'What's it like?'
'Remote. Good for birds, though,' he said, grinning. 'Especially at this time of year – late winter, early spring.'
'Birds?' she said with a shudder. 'What about people? Me, for instance? What's it like for us?'
'Well, maybe you would like it better in summer. It's an area rather than a place, by the way. There is a village, but normally we're talking about the locality when we say Birsay. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.'
'Is it windy there?'
He looked at her sternly and said, 'Oh, yes! Wind is something we do very well on Orkney. Get used to it!'
*
She stayed on deck most of the rest of the way, talking to the man who had helped her. He said his name was Gregor McEwan. He was a freelance wildlife cameraman and photographer based on his home island.
'Orkney will be a good place for you, I take it?' Emma said.
'Perfect. Occasionally I get the urge to go off to see elephants and tigers, but the birds and the seals always bring me back home before long. Here, at least, I'm a real expert.'
'How wonderful,' she said. 'It sounds a lovely way to make a living.'
'It's what I always wanted to do. Simple as that. How about you?'
'Me? Oh, I don't do anything very special. I just work for an insurance company in Newcastle – a back-office job.'
'Like it?'
She shrugged. 'Well .... It's a good job, but I don't have a sense of vocation about it. Nothing like that. But I've been there since not long after I left school. So, yes, I suppose I must like it.'
'Do you live in the city?'
'Fenham, on the outskirts. Do you know Tyneside?'
He nodded. 'I've been there a few times, passing through.'
'But you prefer here?'
He just grinned. Then he turned to point at some land on the other side of the ship. 'That's the tip of Mainland. We'll be in Stromness in a few minutes.'
'Is it a big town?'
'It is by Orkney standards, but not by yours. It's the second biggest town on the islands, after Kirkwall, the capital. It used to be busier and a lot more important than it is now, though. Whalers would sail from here, and the Hudson's Bay Company ships.'
'Really? I've heard of them. They were important for the fur trade and the exploration of Canada, I seem to recall?'
'That's right. They were.'
'So what was the company doing here?'
'Oh, trading and outfitting. Repairing the ships. A lot of the Company's employees came from Orkney. The building where they used to recruit the men is still here, in Stromness. It's a museum now.
'Then there's the gun, out along the foreshore, they used to fire whenever a Company ship came into port.'
He paused, grinned and added, 'I haven't even mentioned Dr John Rae yet. He was from Stromness.'
'Who?'
'He was the man they asked to go looking for the Franklin expedition.'
'I'm sorry to be so ignorant, but what was that?'
'Franklin's two ships were lost in the search for the North West Passage about 1850. What happened to them was a mystery until very recently, when one of the wrecked ships was found at last.'
'So there's a lot of history here?'
'Oh, yes! Indeed there is. And we Orcadians are very liable to start telling you about it at the slightest invitation.'
Gregor sighed and added, 'Now I'd better go and find Mother. She'll be getting worried I've fallen overboard. Do you need a lift when we get ashore, by the way?'
'No thanks. I have my own car.'
'Right. Well, it was nice meeting you, Emma. I hope you have an enjoyable stay – and that you'll want to come back again!'
He shook her hand and left. She rather regretted his going. He was a very attractive and charming young man, she thought wistfully. She had enjoyed his company. She had liked his mother, as well. So, seemingly, had her poor stomach. She no longer felt sick at all. What a pity she couldn't travel further with the two of them.
*
By then, the ship had reached the edge of the town. She stayed where she was and watched as more and more of it came into view. Little cottages on the gentle hillside, at first. Then a harbour with fishermen's cottages lining it, each seemingly with its own slipway for launching a fishing boat. Commercial buildings came next, and all the paraphernalia of a fishing town. Bigger boats. Landing stages. Docks within the harbour. Houses spreading up the hillside behind the town.
At last, the ferry terminal arrived. The ship slowed and turned. She was here. Stromness. Orkney. When the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker system to announce their arrival, she left the rail and began to make her wa
y down to the car deck.
Chapter Three
Heavy rain was slanting in on a cold, gusting wind by the time Emma was able to drive her car off the ferry. It definitely wasn't a good time to be sight-seeing in Stromness. She pulled into a car park beside the harbour and studied her map for a few minutes, refreshing her memory. Then she got going. The sooner she reached Birsay, the better, she decided. In fact, the sooner she could have a hot bath and climb into bed the better!
Holiday? Huh! Today had been an ordeal rather than a pleasure, and it wasn't over yet.
The rain crashed against the windscreen as she headed out of town. She grimaced, kept her speed down and concentrated on what she could see of the road ahead. About fifteen or twenty miles to go, she estimated. In these conditions, she would be lucky to get there by tomorrow morning.
What a choice she'd made! Right about now, her friends would be enjoying themselves on a Greek island. Crete, Rhodes, Kos? She couldn't even remember which one they had finally chosen. As she wasn't going, she had lost interest. She hadn't wanted to be weighed down with all the redundant detail. It was just Greece, a Greek island, to her.
Whichever one it was, though, it would be sunny and hot – and definitely not windy and rainy! In comparison, these islands that she'd got stuck with were absolute rubbish. There was no other word for them. Envy? Not a bit of it!
What on earth could have made Aunt Freda choose to live here most of her life? She must have been dotty. Probably the wind had made her like that. Just listen to it!
Emma screwed her face up as the scream of the wind reached a new pitch. She even pulled over to the side of the road for a minute or two, wondering if she wanted to go any further. Then she started off again. She didn't really have a choice. She wasn't going to let the weather defeat her. Besides, she had a reservation at the B & B. The people there would be expecting her. She couldn't let them down.
*
She went directly to Davar, the guesthouse she had booked online. Her late aunt's home, Broch House, wasn't far away according to the map, but she decided seeing it could wait until the storm had passed over. At the moment she just wanted to get inside somewhere warm and dry.
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