'One of the Italians, you mean?'
'Yes,' she said eagerly, thinking of the photographs she had seen in Broch House.
'Oh, no!' Hamish said with a chuckle. 'That would have been fraternising with the enemy. You couldn't do that in wartime. You'd have been put up against a wall, and shot.'
She let out her breath with disappointment, as another theory collapsed.
'Mind you,' Hamish said, 'she did have a boyfriend. More's the pity!' he added with a chuckle.
Her heart rate increased again. 'Did you know him?' she asked, hardly daring to hope.
'Oh, yes. I knew him quite well.'
Chapter Twenty-Eight
'I knew him from back on Stronsay?' Hamish continued. 'I went to school with him, and everyone on the island knew everyone else anyway. I don't know so much about now, but they did then.'
'And then he came to HMS Tern, like you?'
'Well .... Not exactly. He wasn't like me in that way. I was just an aircraft fitter, a technician, like Freda. But Jamie, he was different.'
'How?' Emma prompted. 'How was he different?'
Hamish sighed and looked a little weary. Emma backed off, and waited.
'More tea, Hamish?' Gregor asked gently.
'Aye. That would be good. Thank you kindly, laddie.'
Emma waited until Gregor had poured a fresh round of tea before smiling at Hamish encouragingly. 'What was Jamie like, Hamish?' she asked gently.
'Oh, he was special, was Jamie. Even as a boy he was, and even more so when he got older. He was always destined for greater things than the rest of us. That was what I always thought.
'He was nice enough – don't misunderstand me. Friendly and pleasant. But he had a way about him that always seemed to mean he was better than us. It made you respect him. I suppose you could say he was a natural leader. He had an air of authority about him.'
Emma let him catch his breath and be quiet for a few moments. She knew their time with him that day was coming to an end.
'Could you describe him?' she asked.
'Not a big man. Slim, average sort of build. A lot of wavy, blonde hair he had as a boy. I don't know about later. At Tern, I only ever saw him in a flying suit and a helmet.'
'He was a pilot? Air crew?' Gregor asked.
Hamish shook his head. 'A passenger. He was always a passenger when I saw him, going out and coming in. He knew me, and we always spoke, but just a word or two. You didn't ask someone like him where he'd been, or where he was going. Nothing like that. All you were told, in wartime, was what you needed to know. Nothing more.'
'But he and Freda hit it off?'
'They did. They were the same type of people. They were made for each other.'
The old man paused again and sighed. 'It was just a pity that one day Jamie didn't come back. He'd been on one flight too many. Outstayed his time, as they used to say. We all knew you couldn't go on forever, doing what those fellows did.
'Freda was heart-broken. She wouldn't believe he wouldn't return, but he never did. That was the end of it. His time was over, and in many ways so was Freda's.'
'The Shetland Bus, maybe?' Gregor inquired gently.
'I always thought so. You couldn't ask, but I believed it was to Occupied Norway he went. Behind enemy lines.'
'So that was that,' Emma repeated quietly, saddened by Hamish's tale, if not quite sure she understood it.
'Aye, it was. She had his baby, I believe, but I never really knew anything about that. Hush-hush, it was.'
'Freda had a baby?' Emma leant forward, astonished to have confirmed what Gran had told her. 'Were they married, Freda and Jamie?'
'I don't believe they were, which was another problem in them days, but you'd have to ask my sister about that. She knows more than me.'
The old man was almost asleep by then. Emma pressed a buzzer to summon a member of staff.
'I'm afraid we've over-tired him,' she said apologetically.
'Oh, don't worry about that. When he wakes up he'll be glad you've been. Will you come again?'
'We'd like to, if it would be all right?'
'Of course it would.'
Gregor said, 'Do you know if his sister is still alive? Hamish mentioned her, but I'm not sure if he was talking about years ago.'
'Och, yes! Moira is still with us. She's as old as Hamish nearly, but she's a very sprightly lady.'
'Is she still on Stronsay?'
'Oh, no! She's here now.'
'In Kirkwall? You don't happen to know where she lives, do you?'
'Here in this home, I meant. She's in the next wing.'
Gregor looked at Emma, and said, 'We would like to see her, too, if that's possible?'
'It is, but not today. I believe she's on an outing today. Would tomorrow do?'
'Perfectly,' Emma assured her. 'Perhaps you could warn her? We would like to talk to her about my great-aunt, Freda Nicholson. Hamish has just told us that they knew each other.'
'I'll let her know. See you tomorrow!'
Chapter Twenty-Nine
'Well,' Emma said as they left the home, 'what did you think of that?
'Fascinating. Come on! Let's get something to eat. We can talk about it over lunch.'
Gregor knew a quiet little cafe tucked away in a side street near the cathedral. There were only two other people there when they arrived, an elderly couple poring over newspapers while they ate lunch.
The waitress arrived and they ordered from the daily specials menu. Grilled plaice for Emma ; lasagne for Gregor. Then they got started.
'Hamish is a charming gentleman, isn't he?' Emma suggested.
'Very much so.' Gregor smiled. 'He obviously had a shine for your great-aunt.'
'Fancy him remembering so much about her after all these years. So we got it right. Freda was in the navy, at HMS Tern – but as an aircraft technician! How weird is that?'
Gregor shrugged. 'The navy seem to have had lots of planes in those days. I'd always assumed the navy did the sailing and the RAF did the flying. Obviously it wasn't as clear cut as that.'
'And Freda had a boyfriend?' she mused. 'That was interesting, and very sad too. But what was your comment about the Shetland Bus, or something? What was that about?'
'It was a bit of a red herring really, I suppose. But it did get Hamish to confirm what I was thinking.
'You see, Shetland was a jumping-off point for contact with Occupied Norway during the war. Agents were sent in from there by fishing boat – spies, saboteurs, resistance fighters, and so on. Shetland was also where people like that escaped to. There was so much traffic that people called the route the "Shetland Bus". They have a museum about it, up there.'
'I see. But HMS Tern is, or was, on Orkney.'
'Ah, well. Agents were also parachuted into Norway, and I've no doubt some went from here.'
'So Jamie, Freda's young man, was one of those agents?'
'It's very likely. Hamish seems to think so, and I'm sure he's right. He knew the man, and working on the airfield he would have had a good idea what was going on. He knew, all right.'
'Poor Freda,' Emma murmured. 'Her man just never came back one day. That must have been awful. How do you ever get closure when something like that happens?'
Gregor grimaced. 'It must have happened a lot. Most of the people sent into France ended up the same way – in the hands of the Gestapo, and shot against a wall.'
'How terrible.'
'It makes you think how lucky we are today.'
Emma was quiet for a while. Then she said, 'So Freda really did have a baby, just as Gran told me.'
'Yes, if Hamish remembers accurately.'
'Oh, I'm sure he does. Don't you think so?'
Gregor nodded.
'I think I would like to go back to Broch House this afternoon, to think about things. Would you come with me, Gregor?'
'Of course.' He smiled and patted her hand. 'Ah! Here's our lunch.'
*
It might be summer, Emma thought, but the house didn't feel any warmer. She shivered, earning a sympathetic grin from Gregor.
'It's so cold!'
'Not really. It's just that you're not acclimatised yet.'
'You can say that again!'
The reality, of course, she thought, was that no-one had been inside Broch House since she had last shut the door. How could it be any warmer? A house needed to be lived in, by living and breathing people who switched on lights and heaters, lit fires, ran baths and opened windows when the sun was shining.
'It could soon be warmed up,' Gregor said speculatively, thinking about it. 'That is if you wanted to have a go?'
Could it? She supposed it could. Freda had actually lived here, for goodness sake!
'Carry on yourself for a few minutes, will you?' Gregor said. 'There's one or two things outside I want to check.'
She smiled and moved on, on into the first of the reception rooms, and then the other one. On into the kitchen, and up to the bedrooms. All seemed to be in order. The house was just as she had left it. Full of character, but still too big for one person. What on earth had Freda done here all those years?
She headed back downstairs to the storage room where Freda had kept her papers and books. That was also where the photographs were.
A few minutes later she heard Gregor calling her.
'I'm in here!' she shouted back.
'What are you doing?' he asked when he found her.
'I just had the thought that surely somewhere in here I might find a photo of Jamie. I would like to see what he looked like.
Gregor nodded. 'It will take some time,' he said. 'There are an awful lot of photos.'
'Yes, and Freda didn't do a great job of organising them.'
She rummaged a few moments longer. Then, aware that Gregor was still standing in the same place, she stopped and turned to him. 'What?' she asked with a smile.
He gave her a rather sheepish grin and said, 'You know we were talking about how the house could be warmed up?'
'If someone wanted to do it?'
He nodded. 'I've just checked the yard and the shed. The oil tank is nearly full and there's an outhouse that's well-stocked with coal and logs. How long are you here for this time?'
She stared at him for a long moment. He stared back. When he reached out to her, she saw that he no longer wore a wedding ring. She knew then that the moment she had secretly always wanted, had finally arrived.
'We'll light the fire,' she said huskily, as his arms wrapped around her and he stooped to kiss her.
Chapter Thirty
'I hope you meant that,' she said, looking up with a smile.
He hugged her close for a long moment. 'You know I did.'
'Yes,' she said happily. 'I do.'
They stayed where they were for a few more moments. Then she pushed him gently away. 'Come on,' she said. 'Let's light the fire.'
'Oh, we can do more than that!' Gregor said, laughing. 'Let me see if I can start the central heating system.'
'You do that, and I'll try to light a fire in the kitchen stove.'
*
She was in a bit of what her mother would have called a tizzy while she collected some sticks and some logs for the stove in the kitchen. What was she to make of it? she wondered. What did it mean, Gregor kissing her like that? Everything or nothing?
Time would tell, she decided happily. For now, she would take one step at a time.
'Got any matches?' she called.
'No, but I've got a lighter.'
Gregor re-appeared, holding out an ancient-looking zippo. He showed her how it worked.
'What about the central heating?'
'It's going –- I think.'
'Clever you!'
'Nothing complicated about it. I turned the boiler on and pressed a couple of switches. Listen!'
She paused, head cocked. She could hear pipes rattling somewhere, as warming water began to make its way around the house once more. 'I wonder how long it's been since that sound was last heard?'
Gregor shrugged. 'The best part of a year, I would think. Thankfully, somebody came in and turned everything off properly. So we'll keep our fingers crossed there are no burst pipes, and hope the system works like it should. How are you doing?'
She lit the newspaper she had crunched up, and watched as flames spread to the thin sticks. They began to crackle immediately. Bigger sticks began to smoke furiously. Logs were stacked nearby, ready to go.
'I'm doing all right, I think,' Emma said, closing the stove door, and turning to Gregor with a smile. 'It will be lovely to have some heat in here, won't it?'
He nodded. 'You know what we need now, don't you?'
'What?'
'Some food. Something to cook – something to eat!'
'What a good idea,' she said, beaming at him. 'It would have to be something simple, though. I mean, I don't know how anything here works.'
'Shall I go and see what I can find?'
'Would you?' She reached out to give him a hug. 'Oh, Gregor!'
He kissed her forehead and hugged her back. 'I won't be long,' he promised.
'But where will you go? Kirkwall?'
'No. There's a little shop in the village. I'll see what they have.'
'And I'll make sure the stove doesn't go out,' she promised happily.
*
They dined on bacon and egg, artisan bread and red wine. Afterwards they made coffee.
'You managed to find everything we needed,' Emma said with approval.
'Yes. Even washing-up liquid!'
She laughed and kissed him again.
The house was scarcely any warmer, but they could feel heat from the stove now. Gregor brought more logs from the woodpile in the outhouse, and they pulled two chairs close together in front of it.
Emma felt wonderfully happy. She knew it was probably an illusion, but so what? No need to think about when the bubble burst. For now, at least, she and Gregor could be together, just as she had sometimes dreamt, but had never expected to happen.
'Happy?' Gregor asked, putting his arm around her.
She nodded and smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder. 'You?'
'Very much.'
'What's happened, Gregor?'
'Something I believe we've both wanted to happen, but perhaps felt was impossible.'
She nodded. 'You're right.'
That was all that was said just then. It seemed to be enough.
*
The afternoon turned to evening, and evening turned to night. The sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon. Emma began to look ahead. Practical matters resumed their place on the agenda.
'So we'll see Hamish's sister in the morning?'
'Yes. That should be interesting.'
'Mm. I wonder what happened to Jamie, and to their baby – if they really did have one?'
'Let's just wait and see what Moira has to say, shall we? No point us speculating.'
It was true. All that could wait. They didn't need to rush into the future.
*
Later, she said, 'Do you have your phone?'
He nodded.
'Does it work? I mean, is there coverage here?'
'Of course.'
'May I use it?'
'Yes. What for?'
'I want to call the guesthouse, to tell them I won't be back tonight.'
He looked at her quizzically, head to one side.
'I'm going to stay here.'
'You are?'
She nodded. There'll be somewhere to sleep, even if it is only the floor in front of the stove.'
Gregor laughed and said, 'I couldn't let you spend the night here alone.'
'No, of course you couldn't.'
'That's settled, then?'
'I think so. Don't you?'
He nodded and took her in his arms again.
> Chapter Thirty-One
Hamish's sister, Moira, turned out to be a very lively old lady in her late-eighties. Emma could see that she suffered from arthritis, but that was only in her legs. Otherwise, she was even more together than her brother.
They met her in the residents' lounge, which was very similar to the one they had been in the previous day.
'Good morning!' she said briskly, 'You must be the two people who saw Hamish yesterday?'
'Yes, that's right. I'm Emma Mason, Freda Nicholson 's niece. And this is my friend, Gregor McEwan. I believe you know Gregor's mother?'
'Oh, yes. Of course I do.'
She smiled warmly at them both. 'You don't live here, in Orkney, my dear?'
'No, I don't. I live in England, in Newcastle, where most of my family belong.'
'Oh? I've never been, but it looks a pretty city, judging by the pictures I've seen.'
Pretty? That seemed to be stretching it a bit. Emma smiled and said, 'You must have seen pictures of the bridges over the Tyne?'
'Yes. That's right. Most impressive. We don't have such big bridges in Orkney.'
'You don't seem to need them!' Emma suggested. 'Although the Churchill Barriers are impressive enough.'
Moira smiled in acknowledgement. 'That's true. Now, how can I help you, my dear?'
'I believe you knew my Great-aunt, Freda Nicholson?'
'I did, yes.'
'That's what we wanted to talk to you about. You see, I never knew her, or anything about her. But she left me her house, and I want to know more about her before I decide what to do with it.'
The old lady nodded, as if she understood. 'I thought you would come one day,' she said with a faint smile.
'You did?'
Moira just nodded again. 'I'm glad to meet you at last.'
The conversation seemed to have died in its tracks, with Moira seemingly well satisfied about something, and Emma simply stunned.
'We talked to Hamish yesterday,' Gregor said quickly. 'He told us quite a bit about Freda's wartime service at Twatt. I hadn't known anything about that, although, of course, I knew a lot about her in more recent times.'
Orkney Mystery Page 12
