Daughter of Mull

by Joan Fleming

  CHAPTER 2

  By the time Roddie made his way to his own room an hour later, Anna had cried herself out. He had held her in his arms as she revealed what had upset her on her birthday, and he now understood why the letter the postman had delivered that morning was so important to her.

  Almost five years older than Anna, he recognised that she was a free spirit who was far from ready to be tied to any lasting relationship.

  Roddie lay down on his own bed, still fully clothed, his hands behind his head, and allowed his thoughts to roam over their conversation.

  Anna had never hidden the fact that she was adopted, and always spoke in glowing terms of her adoptive parents, who lived on the outskirts of Glasgow. It was only since she had left her family home last year to move into the flat that she had begun to ask questions which had never troubled her before, about her birth parents, and especially her real mother.

  ‘Why now?’ Roddie had asked her. ‘Have you never been curious about her before?’

  ‘Not really,’ she’d said. ‘I love my parents, and they’ve done everything they could for me all my life. I suppose I never had any wish to upset our little family or to hurt my mum and dad.’

  ‘But leaving home made you feel free to find out more about your birth mother?’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. I haven’t hidden it, though. My parents know that I sent a letter to her through the lawyers. I discussed it with them first, and they said they understood.’

  Since she’d sent the letter, Anna had been on tenterhooks waiting for a response. She’d explained that every morning, when she heard the postman’s shoes echoing in the communal entrance to the flats, she rushed to the door. It was in her impatience to collect the mail that she’d stubbed her toe on the doorstop that morning.

  Without leaving the shelter of Roddie’s arms, Anna had handed him the letter from her birth mother. It was short and to the point.

  Isle of Mull

  May 2016

  My dear Anna,

  I have received your letter, which was forwarded to me. It was a lovely surprise – so good to hear from you.

  I would love to see you, but unfortunately, I don’t think it would be possible at the moment.

  Affectionately,

  Janet Maclean

  Aware he had a busy day ahead of him and should be trying to sleep, Roddie attempted to disentangle the jumbled thoughts that were tripping over each other in his mind. It had been a long day. He had left early for his job in his architect’s business in the city centre. He had planned a day in the office, with only one short meeting arranged with a client, so that he could be home in plenty of time for the night out to celebrate Anna’s birthday. But nothing at work had gone to plan: his meeting had taken longer than expected, and his partner Flo had phoned in sick, which meant that Roddie had been forced to deal with her urgent calls.

  Roddie and his friend, Flo Ritchie, had started up the firm two years before, working round the clock to make it a success. Even though the firm of Fraser & Ritchie was now going from strength to strength, he found he had little time for a social life. The only non-work related activities he allowed himself were his visits to the gym, which was the reason he had been so determined to enjoy a relaxed dinner with his flatmates. Besides, he couldn’t bear the thought that he would be absent from Anna’s celebration.

  After his non-stop day in the office, he had dashed home just in time to have a quick shower and change out of his business suit. But as soon as he had seen Anna, he had been aware that something was wrong. Normally vivacious and full of chat, she’d said little and appeared withdrawn, as if her thoughts were miles away.

  Wondering if he should pour himself a glass of whisky to help him get off to sleep, he decided against drinking any more alcohol. If Flo didn’t return to the office in the morning, he would have a heavy workload, so he would need a clear head. But at the moment, there was little prospect of sleep. His mind was racing through all the possible reasons why a mother would refuse to meet the daughter she had given up for adoption twenty-five years before. Poor Anna. The rejection seemed to be all the more hurtful because she had not expected it.

  The surprising thing was that the address at the top of her birth mother’s letter was ‘Isle of Mull’. Although Anna’s starting point for her research into The Lords of the Isles was the Isle of Islay, where the Lords had their centre of operations, she had also intended to visit Mull. What a strange coincidence that her birth mother should write from one of the islands she planned to visit.

  But it wasn’t just sympathy for Anna’s hurt feelings that were preventing Roddie from sleep. He had to admit to himself that he regretted promising Anna that living here would be on a ‘purely business’ basis. His feelings for his attractive flatmate were moving beyond friendship. He wanted more.

  CHAPTER 3

  The following day, Anna was in her local library in Byres Road doing some research when her mobile rang. The disdainful looks she received from the librarian, not to mention the other library-users, could have killed on impact.

  ‘So sorry… sorry…’ she muttered, trying unsuccessfully to locate the phone in her bag. Cursing herself for forgetting to put her mobile on silent before she entered the library, she grabbed her jacket and exited the building, cheeks burning, abandoning her search for information.

  Just as she got out into the street, the ringing stopped. When she finally unearthed her mobile, she saw that the call had been from her client Mel MacDougall’s secretary, Cindy.

  Wondering if she should return the call, Anna worked out what time it was in New York. Three o’clock here – it must be about ten o’clock in the morning there.

  The call was unexpected, and given the way her thoughts had flitted back and forth on her plans, Anna felt uneasy about responding. Cindy would no doubt be expecting to hear when she planned to go to the Isle of Islay, but yesterday’s letter had sent Anna’s thinking off on a completely different trajectory. Having recovered a little from the disappointment of yesterday, she had now accepted that there must be a reason for her birth mother’s refusal to meet her. And she was determined to find out what it was.

  Would it make a big difference to her project, she wondered, if she were to reverse the order of her visits to the two islands? Instead of leaving for Islay, she could head off to Mull in a day or two – and perhaps kill two birds with one stone. On the one hand, she could do some background work on her project, but she could also try to locate her birth mother to find out why she refused to meet her. Yes, she decided. She would go to Mull.

  She had already arranged with Mel that she would take photographs and videos relevant to The Lords of the Isles, focusing on unusual angles which were not readily available on the internet. Her visit would allow her to flesh that out by interviewing some of the islanders, perhaps even managing to uncover information which was not available elsewhere.

  With her decision made, Anna moved to stand against the library’s outer wall, and hit the reply button of her mobile to speak to Cindy.

  ‘I wanted to touch base with you about your project for Mel,’ Cindy said in an accent Anna couldn’t identify. ‘How are things coming along?’

  ‘Everything’s going according to plan,’ Anna said. ‘In fact, I was just doing some research when you called. I’ve been thinking I might reverse the order of my visits to the islands, and go to Mull first.’

  ‘Surely it would be better to stick to the original plan? More logical?’ the other woman asked.

  Anna could feel her heart-rate increasing, the heat once again rising to her face. What did Cindy know about the project? Was this phone call just to check up on her?

  ‘It would make no difference to the price I’ve quoted for Mel,’ she said, a chill in her voice. ‘Logic isn’t necessarily a factor in the project.’

  ‘But you will deliver by the stated date?’

  Anna gritted her teeth. ‘I agreed a completion date with Mel,’ she said. ‘I’ll deliver then
, if not before.’

  After perfunctory goodbyes, Anna’s mobile was on the point of slipping from her moist fingers when she pressed the red button to cut the connection.

  ‘That’s it!’ she muttered, to the consternation of the people walking along Byres Road, who gave her a wide berth. ‘I’m going to Mull as soon as I can.’

  CHAPTER 4

  ‘A penny for them?’ Roddie asked.

  ‘Oh, same old, same old,’ Anna replied.

  They were sitting, along with Jake, in the living room of the flat later that evening. Not wishing to exclude Jake from what was going on; she had just told him about the letter she’d received from Janet Maclean. They could hear Yvette singing an out-of-tune French song in the bathroom, where she spent an inordinate amount of time in the bath.

  ‘That letter?’

  ‘Yes.’ Anna sighed, but said no more.

  Her adoptive mother, when Anna had called to tell her about the letter, had sympathised at her disappointment and described the situation as ‘torturing’. Anna had to agree that was exactly what all these surmised answers to her questions had become: torture. She must find some way of changing her birth mother’s mind. If she could only meet the woman, even once, she would be able to put to rest all the unanswered questions.

  ‘She could be in prison,’ Jake said. ‘Or she might have emigrated – the letter came via the lawyers, didn’t it? She could be living in a new country: America… Africa…’

  ‘Oh, Jake, do be quiet,’ Roddie snapped.

  ‘Or maybe she simply doesn’t want me complicating her life,’ Anna said mournfully.

  ‘Don’t look so glum, Anna,’ Roddie said. ‘I’m sure you’ll sort it out. And you’ll probably find there’s a logical explanation for her decision that hasn’t even crossed our minds.’

  ‘Possibly.’ Anna was not convinced.

  ‘What does it matter?’ Jake said. ‘You’ve landed this cracking new contract. Why don’t you concentrate on The Lords of the Isles instead of agonising over your birth mother? We’ve met your mum, and she’s a lovely person. You don’t need two mothers, Anna. Especially when you have friends like us as well.’

  ‘Oh, Jake, don’t be so crass.’ Roddie’s voice was as sharp as a razor. ‘Why do you have to open your big mouth? Anna has problems to solve, and you’re not helping her with that stupid attempt at a solution.’

  ‘Oh, sorry I spoke,’ Jake said huffily. ‘Only trying to help.’

  ‘So, stop trying,’ Roddie said. ‘Pay no attention to him, Anna.’

  Normally, Anna disregarded what Jake said. She and Roddie knew him well. He was often a source of amusement to his two – or sometimes three – flatmates when he gave his opinion on a matter under discussion. But her reaction today was totally different. She felt her bottom lip tremble. Surely she wasn’t going to cry again?

  She stood up and was on the point of leaving the room, but Roddie moved faster, and put his strong comforting arms round her, murmuring soothing sounds as he stroked her hair.

  ‘Oh, Anna, I’m really sorry,’ Jake said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Sometimes I open my big mouth without thinking.’

  ‘You should try putting your brain into gear first,’ Roddie said.

  Anna wriggled her way out of Roddie’s embrace. ‘I know you’re both trying to help, but I have to work this out for myself. Maybe I should concentrate on my project and forget about delving into my roots.’ She sniffed, then accepted the tissue Roddie leaned over and pulled from the box on the coffee table.

  ‘No need to rush into anything,’ Roddie said. ‘Take your time.’

  Whilst she was grateful for the support of her two friends, she knew she would have to work out a solution to her problems herself.

  CHAPTER 5

  Anna had first mentioned her intention to contact her birth mother when she had been to visit her parents, Moira and Fred, a couple of months before her birthday. She felt it was important to keep them informed about her thoughts on the matter, and to make sure she wasn’t hurting their feelings in any way.

  Every birthday, for as long as she could remember, Anna had received a card which had been sent by a firm of lawyers. The cards were always beautifully hand-painted, and Anna had a silk-lined box in which she kept them all. The designs were abstract, painted in gentle pinks when she was a youngster; more vivid colours, mainly blues and greens, as she grew older. There was never any handwriting on any of the cards, and no signature, but her mum had told Anna that they were sent by her birth mother. The greeting was always the same: simply Happy Birthday, printed out with a paintbrush in a colour to tone in with the design.

  There had never been any secret of the fact that Anna was adopted. With her red hair, she bore no resemblance to either of her adoptive parents, both of whom had mid-brown hair and brown eyes. Where Anna was tall and slender, Moira and Fred Ballantyne were of average height, their build sturdy, and Fred was inclined to put on weight. People who didn’t know she was adopted tended to look for family resemblances which didn’t exist, but that didn’t trouble Anna. Her parents loved her – and that was all that mattered.

  ‘I’ve no hang-ups about being adopted,’ she’d told her parents that day. ‘But when people ask me, I sometimes feel a bit embarrassed when I can’t answer their questions. They seem to expect me to know more than I do about my birth parents, and perhaps they wonder why I haven’t made it my business to find out.’

  ‘I don’t think you can read other people’s thoughts on this, Anna. You really have no idea what they’re thinking,’ her mum had said.

  ‘But, maybe I should have made some effort to contact them by now. After all, I’m nearly twenty-five.’

  ‘There’s no right or wrong approach to take in this situation, Anna. It’s entirely up to you.’

  ‘But, wouldn’t you be hurt if I did try to contact them? You are my mum and dad, my parents, and I love you both.’

  Moira Ballantyne had come to sit on the sofa beside Anna, taking her daughter’s hand gently.

  ‘I can see this is torturing you, dear. Yes, of course it will unsettle your dad and me, but it’s your happiness that’s most important. I’ve always known this might happen. In fact, I expected it long before now. It’s natural you should want to meet your birth mother, at least.’ Then she smiled, taking a deep breath as if to regain control. ‘But don’t…’

  ‘Don’t what, Mum?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t what, Mum?’ Anna repeated.

  ‘Just don’t be too upset if it doesn’t work out,’ Moira had replied.

  Since then, meeting or corresponding with her birth mother had been like a recurring headache that came into sharp focus when Anna least expected it.

  Why did she give me up for adoption? Why has she continued to send a birthday card every year? Why doesn’t she want to be in touch with me now?

  She then started to make up possible answers to these questions. Did Janet fall ill? Did Anna’s father desert her? Had she no means of supporting her baby? If she never wanted to see Anna again, why send the cards? Was that not a way of maintaining some link with her daughter? A link she now apparently wanted to sever?

  Anna decided to have dinner with her parents before she set off on her travels, and was persuaded to stay the night. She realised her mum and dad must miss her now that she lived in the flat in town, but they always managed to conceal their feelings well. Besides, she knew she could draw comfort from sleeping in her old bedroom.

  But she had another reason to stay. Her dad had given her some mail which had been sent to her parents’ home, but there was one item which was significant by its absence: a card from her birth mother to acknowledge her twenty-fifth birthday.

  The following morning, after Moira and Fred had gone off to work; Anna lingered in her bedroom and pulled out the box of her birthday cards from the top shelf of her wardrobe. She spread them on her bed and counted them – a needless gesture, because she knew exactly
how many there were: twenty-four. One for every birthday. Except this most recent one.

  She gazed at each of the colourful cards, as if somehow they would reveal the story of her birth mother during all that time. Why would she send these cards and then decline to meet her daughter face-to-face?

  With the curtains still closed over the open window, Anna switched on the ceiling light so it shone on the cards. The patterns seemed to dance before her eyes, a kaleidoscope of the colours of her mother’s life during the years since Anna’s birth. But the cards refused to tell her what she most needed to know.

  She sat for some time on the edge of her bed, nursing the ache that filled her heart whenever she thought about her rejection. She felt so helpless. She was reluctant to accept that there was no way she could go against the wishes of Janet Maclean, but what could she do?

  Through the open window, she could hear the dawn chorus, the songbirds’ anthem to the new day. Their music acted like a shot of adrenaline to her spirits. There must be a way, she decided. There must be a way – and she was determined to find it.

  By the time the postman came – still no twenty-fifth birthday card – Anna had made up her mind.

  CHAPTER 6

  Standing on the deck of the MV Isle of Mull, Anna wondered yet again if she was where she wanted to be. Somehow her resolve of the previous days seemed less intense. Was this a sensible decision? Would she achieve her objectives? Or was this a knee-jerk reaction to her birth mother’s letter and a phone call from a rather snooty secretary?

  The boat was still anchored in Oban, but departure was imminent. Should she gather up her belongings and return to dry land before they disconnected from the passenger gangway?

  Conscious that she was a solitary, silent figure on a vessel throbbing with purposeful life, she felt sure she must be drawing attention to herself. She fancied some of the passengers drew her a strange look when they passed, a half-smile, as if they thought they’d seen her before, but couldn’t recall her name or why she looked familiar. Perhaps it was her imagination playing tricks on her.