Surface Tensions

by Jordan, G R

  "Mrs. McKinney, Laura, come here and see this. Isn't it disgusting, right here on our wee island?"

  Laura sent a silent request to her Jesus to be with her and turned into the middle of the crowd.

  "Mrs. McAllan, so good to see you, now what exactly is all this furore about?"

  "Well, Mrs. McKinney, would you believe it? This man here, a photographer, wants to take pictures of these young girls in a state of undress. And all because of those heathen mermaids. The devil's at work in this. Polluting God's own wee island with this sort of filth. They should be disgusted at themselves, exposing their bosoms like that. And as for him," she pointed at the photographer, "it's no wonder we get rapists and perverts nowadays. Get back to the mainland with you all, get back I say."

  With the tirade complete, Mrs. McAllan started into a rendition of the 23rd Psalm, vigorously joined by the little group of church women around her. Laura thought for a moment and then took the photographer to one side.

  "I'm sorry, my good man, my name's Laura, just a concerned resident. I was wondering exactly, what you are going to do here?" The photographer looked a little taken aback at Laura's relaxed attitude but responded pleasantly enough.

  "Hi, I'm Gerald, photographer working for the nationals. Basically, I'm trying to get a picture of the girls here at the sea wall, looking like mermaids. Tie in with all this fuss about the real ones. It's a good link for us, what with the mermaids showing their boobs all the time, bit like our models."

  "So what, you're going to shoot the girls topless here at the wall? Right now, in the middle of town, in the middle of the day?"

  "Bloody hell, no. I told that other woman, all we are doing is bikini shots with fish tails on. We can't just go popping the boobs out in the town willy-nilly. Cops would do us right away. And here I'd probably get lynched."

  "Yes, you probably would." Laura thought for a moment. "Do you mind if I have a word with the girls?"

  "Knock yourself out. It's not like I can get anything done with these clowns jumping into my light."

  "Thank you." Laura turned to the girls sitting on the wall.

  "Hi there, my name's Laura. I have to say, you girls look absolutely stunning. God certainly blessed you with looks. I just wanted to say welcome to the island and sorry about all this fuss."

  "Fuss is right," declared the buxom red head closest to Laura, "I'm used to us causing a stir and even some jealously, but that woman called me a harlot and then the spawn of Satan."

  "Yeah," said the brunette in the middle of the group, "What's up with her? Right bloody prude. Ain't she ever been proud of her boobs? They're all natural here."

  "I don't doubt it," said Laura, "but you need to understand this place. I'm not saying they are right, but they do have their reasons. Tell you what, why don't you come up to mine for some drinks at some point. In fact the sooner the better. We can have a right good natter. Here's the address. Are you free this afternoon?"

  The brunette girl walked over to her photographer who, after a brief conversation seemed to give his consent. Returning to Laura, the girl agreed they would come up at about two o'clock as they were going to do some night shots now when they could get a bit more privacy. Behind her, Laura heard the disgruntled voice of Mrs. McAllan in shocked disbelief, bemoaning Laura's interactions with the model group. Nothing new there, she thought.

  Laura crossed the road and headed to the local book store, hoping to pick up the latest thriller. Continuing her support for local traders, she shunned the online stores when possible but often certain items were unavailable. More often "modern concepts" such as fair-trade and animal welfare foodstuffs were not always embraced and she found her principals challenged. Nonetheless she persisted.

  Glancing at the window display of the book store, Laura saw an abundance of books dedicated to mermaids, from young readers to anything remotely adult related. In fact, hidden away towards the back was something described as "an erotic adventure for the modern woman". She laughed at the sultry idea of the mermaid, contrasting with their seemingly fish-like tendencies.

  Inside, she saw young Iain McClaren. The poor lad had never really gotten over the death of his father, and that uncle of his didn't help. He always seemed such a loner, bit of a lost soul. Apparently, he was dipping into the fishing books today.

  Oh well, thought Laura. Let's see how he is today.

  "Hi, Iain, how's you?"

  "Quite busy, Mrs. McKinney."

  "Oh, aye. And what with you, may I ask?"

  "Well, now that I have been proven right about my Dad, I think I should get some justice."

  "Okay, Iain. So you think the footage is definitely real? There's a lot of debate."

  "I know what I saw, even back then as a child I saw them. They're not the pretty little things everyone makes them out to be. They're killers. Murders. And I'm gonna catch one and prove it."

  "How you going to do that? No one's caught one. There's going to be lots of people looking for them."

  "I will. That's what I'm looking up. Just mind, Mrs. McKinney, they are evil things. Take care if you see one."

  "I will Iain, I will. God bless."

  Laura edged away, worried by Iain's fixation. The boy was definitely unhinged, and who could blame him after suffering that trauma at such an early age. Part of Laura hoped it was all a hoax. She hoped for the sake of Iain and for many of the islanders it would all go away and life could settle down again. Then she wondered if this was such a good thing. Surely this shake-up might make people think. Maybe the ingrained ideas or indoctrinated thoughts could be broken. Still, she should hurry up as she had to pick something up for these girls arriving at the house that afternoon. It would be good to have a chat with them, but no doubt Murdo would give her one of his wry looks. The poor man would get it in the neck from his session. It would bother him, but he would back her as it was the right thing to do.

  He had laughed when she gave him that little plastic wristband. WWJD. What Would Jesus Do. "Now you're asking" he had said. But she had seen him glancing at it at times, reflecting on it. And he did do it. Generally. He certainly tried, which given his roots in the place was quite something.

  Loving a place is hard, thought Laura. It's just like loving a child. They have your love no matter what. Just because they are a part of you. But you have to stand up to things they do wrong. You have to show them what is right. Set the example. And then, just sometimes, they get it. Then they call you all the names of the day, say they don't want you and sometimes plain ignore you. But you love them still. She understood that Murdo loved this place, but she found that love so desperately hard to match.

  Time was moving on, and Laura still had a few extras to pick up from the drop-in convenience store, so she walked briskly, shouting a few "hellos" as she passed by some of Murdo's flock. Eggs were needed, and now that she had these girls popping up, she would need a few cakes and biscuits. Maybe some drinks too. Wine was the thing nowadays, a very sociable afternoon drink. Oh well, she'd get one of those boxes which kept for months then it wouldn't go to waste.

  Laura was used to shopping at the larger version on the edge of town and didn't come into this particular store often. The eggs had decided to hide themselves amongst the tight aisles, and she circled the store three times before seeing the black hair of a girl she had been thinking about. With the freezer door open, Kiera was staring at the fish section. After a moment she removed every packet of plain frozen fish into her basket. Laura watched astounded at the quantities Kiera was taking. Kiera tried a furtive look around her but only succeeded in catching Laura's eye.

  "Kiera, child, how are you?"

  "Fine, just fine, Laura."

  "What's with all the fish? Some sort of Irish festival or something? Or is it for one of your pictures."

  "Oh…yes, that's it, Laura. Pictures…a grand composition I'm doing."

  "Excellent dear. Most be costing you a fortune, though. If there's any fish left over in good condition, I'll take t
hem off your hands for you. Help you with the cost."

  "The cost?"

  "Yes, dear. Of the fish."

  "Oh…… okay, yes. Thanks. Thank you."

  "Are you alright?"

  "Just been a little under the weather."

  "Oh that's right. Donald's mum said. Said he was taking stuff ‘round to you, looking after you. Nice young man, Donald. Got an eye for you I reckon, Kiera." Kiera's pale skin blushed and she turned her eyes to the floor. "Anyhow, good luck with the photo."

  "What photo?"

  "The one of all these fish."

  "Oh… Yes, thanks." Kiera turned away.

  She's awfully distracted, thought Laura. Wonder if she's alright. I know. She can help me today, and I'll see just how good she is.

  "Kiera. Kiera dear, just a minute."

  "Wha…what is it?"

  "Kiera, have a favour to ask. I have some models coming up to the house for afternoon tea…or maybe wine actually, but I need some company. I can't get any of the church ladies as the girls are those topless models from the paper. Need someone normal to talk to them. Would you come ‘round? With your figure, you'll not be out of place. Gorgeous girl like yourself."

  "You're a flatterer, Laura. But a good one at it. Okay, I shall try. About two, if that's okay?"

  Laura nodded.

  "I just need to check what Donald's doing."

  "Oh aye, didn't realise he gotten that interested."

  Kiera was embarrassed, but underneath, a beaming smile came through.

  "He's very sweet, Laura. He's great, in fact."

  "Happy for you, dear. Two o'clock, and I want details sometime soon."

  Kiera smiled but there was a worry on her face. Laura let her go, rather than ask any more questions.

  She'll tell me if she wants to.

  It took Laura another five minutes to pick up the rest of her items. There was a young lad on the till, maybe sixteen, she reckoned. They got so tall these days, but he still had the spotty complexion of an adolescent. And he's watching me quite intently.

  "Ten forty nine, please."

  "There you go. Busy in town today."

  "Yes. And one change… Can I ask something?" The youth looked concerned.

  "Certainly."

  "The woman with the black hair you were speaking to."

  "Yes, my friend. What about her?"

  "Well, I was wondering. She has been in her every day this week buying up all our salt and fish. Does she keep some sort of animals? It's just all a bit weird."

  Blimey, thought Laura. What possible purpose could she have? What weird thing were Kiera and Donald into? I never thought that either of them were the kinky type. Then something clicked in Laura's mind.

  "People are weird, young man. As a shop assistant, it's best not to be so pass-remarkable. Have a good day."

  9

  A Ministerial Visit

  Murdo McKinney, having buried one of his less faithful flock, had found himself with time on his hands. There was probably another hour or so before Laura would be getting home and making lunch, so he decided to pay a visit to someone with whom his wife had an enjoyable familiarity. Once, Murdo had owned a camera and had taken, what he described as good amateur shots. When he had arrived on the island, he came across a little studio, located in the garage of a brunette Irish girl. Her candour was lively and challenging, and her pictures showed her to be a kindred spirit in the art world.

  Being forward, Laura had encouraged their meeting to discuss photography and general difficulties with settling in on the island. His session had visited him on more than one occasion about the inappropriateness of visiting a Catholic and such a young and vibrant woman. Their actual words had been attractive and frisky. Murdo chuckled to himself. Kiera was fun and certainly challenging of his dog collar, but to believe he was being dragged into an affair was laughable. What did they think of Laura, as she encouraged him in his friendship? Probably best not to ask what they thought of Laura.

  Kiera had a keen eye for a shot, and her pictures took Murdo back to his early days with Laura, when she would appear in shy fashion in his pictures. Kiera was certainly a friend, but she was also not the type to abandon those wonderful days of promise as he had when he had started out on this path for his Lord.

  Having been told Kiera had been unwell all week and rarely seen out of the house, Murdo decided he should pop along and see if he could render any help. Stopping the car at the end of the short drive, he strode up to the door and went to knock before halting, realising he hadn't brought anything for the ill.

  Nothing for it, I'm here now, so I'll have to be the balm.

  Three loud knocks of his hand on the door rang out across the crofts before Murdo remembered the bell. Stepping back, he noticed all the curtains were closed and there was a definite air of a fortress about the house. Oh well, he thought, better have a look and see if she's in. Murdo strode down to the edge of the house, hoping to see in the display room window before he heard a call behind him.

  "Reverend McKinney. Can I help you?"

  "Ah, Donald my boy. How are you? Would Kiera be in at all? I heard she wasn't well."

  "Well she's okay now, Reverend McKinney."

  I can't lie to a minister, thought Donald.

  "Good Donald, that is good. I was going to have a wee cuppa with her, if she was up to it."

  "Well, Minister, she's not here."

  "Donald, stop this minister nonsense. My name is Murdo, and you can use that well and proper. Where is Kiera then?"

  "She went out shopping. I think she needed to stock up after being ill."

  "So she was here when you got here?"

  "Yes," said Donald. Strictly, this was correct. On arriving with the mermaid at the beginning of last week, Kiera had been here. The fact that Donald had been here all week and not, as his Mum had been informed "obsessed with the night fishing", was something he wanted to remain quiet. Despite having slept on the sofa each night, Donald wasn't sure the Reverend McKinney would approve. And he certainly wasn't going to tell him Kiera was prone to joining him in her pyjamas with a large duvet in the middle of the night.

  "When will she be back?"

  "Hopefully soon. She's bringing back some lunch."

  "Excellent, I'll come in and wait."

  "No! You can't, minister."

  "Why not? And it's Murdo."

  Ah, pondered Donald, why not? I can hardly say there's a semi-naked mermaid in the bath. Think, Donald, think.

  "Ah well, you see, it's just that…well…it's not that…but…yes, it's the state of the place. She's been unwell and well there's a kinda smell about the place. Bit fusty with all the illness and that. Sickly smell, so she wouldn't want to, be a bit embarrassed. You understand."

  "Donald, it's me. I visit hospitals all of the time. It's no problem, let me in and I'll sit down and wait."

  Donald found himself forced back and Reverend McKinney strode into the room and sat down on the comfiest armchair. We sat there cuddling this morning, thought Donald. And a bit more. Gotta get him out of here quick.

  "Rever … Murdo, I'm sure she'll be back soon. She'll pop over if you want I'm sure."

  "Nonsense, Donald. I'm fine just here."

  There was a splash from the bath.

  "Did I hear something?"

  "Nothing, no. I heard nothing."

  "I did, Donald, like a splash, water of some sort. I'm sure I heard something."

  Another splash.

  "There it is again. Where's that coming from?"

  "Must be the washing machine, I think it's on heavy rinse cycle of something. She's probably got muddy shoes in it or something."

  "Why would she have muddy shoes? Donald, the girl hasn't been out, she's been unwell."

  "I know but maybe she hadn't got ‘round to doing them until now. That'll be it, definitely. Been unwell and then catching up with the washing."

  "What brought you over, Donald?"

  Donald's eyes went into a pa
nic. He hadn't been expecting that question.

  "Well, I was just looking to help. See if Kiera was okay."

  "Okay and she left you here."

  Not going well, thought Donald.

  "Yes, she needed shopping. I said I would try and do some tidying up for her."

  Beside the chair the Reverend McKinney was occupying, a black object grabbed Donald's view. His heart sunk and part of him started to shake. A black bra of Kiera's was lying next to the chair, so close that Donald was amazed the minister hadn't seen it already. Then again, maybe he had. Maybe that was where the questions had come from. There was another splash from the bathroom.

  "What's that noise Donald? Surely it's not the washing machine. Something might be broken or a tap running in the bathroom. Shall I go check?"

  "No! No, no…it's fine. I'll have a look. Why don't you pop out into the kitchen?"

  "The kitchen?"

  "Yes. Cup of tea. Pop the kettle on. I'll see what's the issue with that sound."

  "Okay, Donald. As you wish, I don't know where anything is, but okay. Do you take milk?"

  "Everything," said Donald.

  Murdo got up and walked into the kitchen shaking his head. Grabbing the bra, Donald quickly opened the bathroom door where he saw the mermaid desperately trying to reach a fish that had fallen onto the floor. He tossed it back into the bath and shut the door behind him. Turning around, he met Murdo face to face.

  "Was just wondering where the tea bags are? Oh, that a bra in your hand?"

  "Yes. One of Kiera's." The obviousness of the statement struck Donald.

  "One would imagine. Hard to tell with lingerie, so I prefer to let it all stay a secret. Not sure I would be able to pick out Laura's."

  "Well this one is definitely Kiera's. She doesn't like it particularly, as it unsnaps at the front. She's always making a grab at the back like her other bras before she remembers."

  Donald froze. Murdo stared at the floor and made a slight cough.

  "The tea bags. Whereabouts in the kitchen?"

  "On the left. Second shelf in the cupboard."