by Joan Fleming
Whenever she thought about the coming meeting, Anna’s heart beat faster and she felt hot all over. Even her breathing seemed to be more laboured. It reminded her of how nervous she’d felt before an important exam. But at the same time, she acknowledged how much she wanted this meeting to take place.
CHAPTER 29
George swerved into the passing place on the single-track road, but only just in time. The driver of the car coming towards him revved his engine, accelerating past the lay-by on his left.
‘Idiot!’ George shouted, knowing full well the other driver could not hear him. ‘Time you learned the rules of the road around here.’ As the other car whizzed past, he leaned on his horn, doubtless to no effect. The islanders, accustomed to single-track roads, could drive fast, but they knew how to judge distances between passing places. Tourists, on the other hand, ran the risk of causing accidents if they broke the speed limit.
Although George recognised the car – it was rented from a local garage – he had no idea who the driver was. Perhaps it’s as well, he thought, pulling out into the road again. He might be tempted to tell the man what he thought of his driving.
George’s intention was to drive straight home to his cottage near the head of Loch Scridain, but on a whim, he turned off in Bunessan, and headed towards Lochside. His conversation with Anna had been rather stressful. Aware of how much the outcome of his visit to Benview meant to both Anna and Janet, he had felt the weight of responsibility lie heavy on his shoulders. What if Anna had refused to meet her birth mother? Would he have been to blame?
Giving himself a shake, he decided not to give in to what might have happened. Anna had agreed. That was all that mattered.
Glancing at his watch, he reckoned that Elsa and Charlie would be around the guest-house, perhaps not too busy and able to chat for half an hour. He felt in need of a conversation in which he had no responsibility, where the outcome was of no consequence to anyone.
Elsa and Charlie were sitting in their living room, enjoying a glass of wine.
‘Come away in, George,’ Elsa said, indicating the private part of the building. ‘Would you like a glass of wine? We’re having a half-hour break before we start again.’
‘No thanks, Elsa,’ he said, giving her a hug. ‘I’m driving.’
‘Your usual soda water, then? I don’t know how you can drink that on its own.’
‘Oh, it’s an acquired taste, Elsa,’ he said, smiling as he sat down on the sofa beside Charlie.
‘Have you seen young Anna at all?’ Elsa asked. ‘Do you know if her ankle is all right now?’
‘It’s fine now. I saw her earlier today. She’s been touring the island with Finn.’
‘I hope Finn’s behaving himself,’ Elsa said, frowning a little.
‘Oh, stop fussing, woman,’ Charlie admonished, handing his drink to George. ‘These women fret far too much, always worrying about things that’ll never happen. If Finn fancies the young woman, why shouldn’t he try to find out how she feels about him?’
‘I was remembering Kirsty,’ Elsa said. ‘When she was here, he took a shine to her. And she was a married woman.’
‘But he didn’t know that, did he? She wasn’t wearing her wedding ring at the time. When she didn’t respond, he backed off.’
‘Anna isn’t married, is she?’ Elsa asked.
‘I’ve no idea,’ George replied.
‘She doesn’t wear a ring, anyway,’ Elsa said.
‘Oh, for goodness sake, Elsa, why don’t you mind your own business and keep your nose out of other people’s?’ Charlie heaved a weary sigh, indicating that he was aware it was pointless to intervene, because his wife would ignore what he said anyway.
‘We have to look out for our friends,’ she said. ‘Especially our young folk.’
‘So, Finn is now one of us, is he?’ Charlie asked Elsa, feigning innocence.
‘Well, he’s never away from the island. And I’m very fond of him; he’s always willing to lend a hand, and he’s fun to have around. Okay, so he has an eye for the girls, but you must admit they have an eye for him. And who wouldn’t?’
George suspected that Finn was a little like the son Elsa had never had, but she would deny any suggestion that was the case.
‘He’s coming over to help me to move some furniture tomorrow, so I’ll have a word with him,’ George said. ‘I’ll make sure he’s not being a nuisance to Anna.’ Unseen by Charlie, he winked at Elsa. It was so easy to tease Elsa’s husband, who had his own ideas about everything in life.
‘For pity’s sake, leave the man in peace,’ Charlie said, rising to the bait – as George had known he would.
Half an hour and a relaxing chat later, George was on his way again. Now he had to make up his mind. Should he go straight home to his cottage near the head of Loch Scridain? Or should he call in on Janet now?
CHAPTER 30
Janet Maclean strode out of her cottage, slamming the door behind her. For days now she had been trying to settle down to work, but with no success. She had commissions for three paintings which she had accepted before Anna had contacted her, and had been hoping she’d have made more progress by now. But every time she sat down in front of a canvas, she found her thoughts straying to the daughter she had given up for adoption a quarter of a century before.
Today, she knew, George had mentioned visiting Anna, and picturing the scene filled her mind completely. At one point, she dipped her brush into the wrong colour on her palette and used it on the canvas for quite some time before she pulled up short, threw her brush to the ground, and flounced out of the cottage.
Once outside, she let her jacket fly open in the wind, tugged the band from her hair, inviting the elements to take control of her body and mind; she could no longer command them herself. If only George would come. At least he would be able to tell her about Anna’s reaction to the letters she’d sent. She dreaded that Anna would refuse to see her, but if the answer was yes, that opened up a whole new scenario for her here on the island.
What would they say to each other? Would they touch? Shake hands, hug even? She couldn’t prevent herself from thinking of the last time she had held her baby all those years ago. Would she experience again the pain of that parting, grieving for the lost years between? There would be tears, she was sure. But would they be tears of joy this time?
What if there were no emotion at all? For mother or daughter? Perhaps the bond that existed between that young mother and her newborn baby had been severed completely, and they would be simply two strangers meeting for the first time.
Almost tripping over a heather root, Janet glanced down at her feet: in her headlong charge to leave the painting – and her home – she hadn’t stopped to change her shoes. Her lightweight indoor shoes were soaked through from the undergrowth which was still wet from the recent rain. They were a hindrance to her walking rather than any protection for her feet, but there was nothing she could do about it. There seemed to be so much in her life that was spiralling out of control right now.
As the shoreline of Loch Scridain came into view, she stopped, gazing out over the water to Ben Mhor, breathing in the beauty as she inhaled the air deep into her lungs. This, she remembered, was how she had set herself on the road to recovery after the nightmare of that summer. Having lost faith in Duncan and lost faith in love, she had dealt with her despair by relying on the constancy of images around her on this magical island. Of course, it was a temperamental vista – now benign, now angry, a volatile picture – but it was there, in all its moods – and it would never leave her. It was her heritage, her birthright, and she would repay its loyalty with love.
Having lost track of time – she never wore a watch when she was painting – she shivered in her wet shoes, and realised she was now calm enough to return home. She was surprised to find how far she’d come from the cottage, but despite her aching, cold feet, she enjoyed the walk back. Once home, the first thing she did was to remove her shoes. Sitting by the peat fire,
she rubbed her feet with a towel to restart the circulation.
It was there that George found her when he arrived, her tangled red hair catching the glow from the fire. She sat, staring into the smoking peats, her discarded shoes on the floor beside her, surrounded by a small puddle of water. Behind her, against the wall by the window which caught the most light, stood the canvas she had been working on, daubed with odd-coloured paint, the abandoned paintbrush on the floor at the end of a trail of blood red paint.
‘Janet, the door was open… Are you all right?’ George rushed towards her anxiously. He knelt down and took her in his arms, her silent tears soaking into his chest. ‘Darling, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’
But Janet couldn’t answer. She was crying in earnest now, her body shuddering as she sobbed uncontrollably against him.
He stroked her hair, murmuring soothing noises, but it was clear he would have to wait until she was calmer for any kind of explanation.
At last, she pulled away and accepted the handkerchief he offered her.
‘Shall I make you a cup of tea?’ he asked.
‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘Tell me first, have you seen Anna?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what did she say? Does she still want to meet me?’
‘Of course she does, my love. Did you think she would say no?’
‘I had no idea, George. She definitely said yes?’
George pulled himself up to his feet. ‘Come here,’ he said, drawing her up beside him and into his arms. ‘She definitely said yes. Now, are you convinced?’
She gave him a watery smile. ‘Yes,’ she said, in a quiet voice. ‘I’m sorry for the outburst, George. This has been playing on my mind, and I don’t know if I can stand all this tension much longer. I can’t even paint.’
‘So I see.’ He smiled as he looked at the abandoned paintbrush. ‘Would you like me to clear that mess up for you?’
‘No thanks. I’ll do it later. I’ll go and find some dry shoes, and maybe we could have that cup of tea now?’
They sat side-by-side on the sofa, their tea cups on a small round table in front of them.
‘Tell me everything Anna said, please. And don’t miss anything out,’ Janet urged.
‘Well, I arrived at Benview and knocked at the door—’
Janet gave him a dig in the ribs. ‘Stop it, George. You know I didn’t mean every detail.’
He leant over and kissed her briefly on the lips. ‘Be careful or you’ll spill my tea,’ he said.
And then he told her all she wanted to know about his meeting with her daughter.
CHAPTER 31
When she woke the following morning, Anna was surprised to find she’d slept for five hours. She’d expected to lie awake most of the night; such was the activity of the thoughts circling around in her mind. She’d need a clear head for her plan for the day, which was to pull together the information she had acquired on The Lords of the Isles for her project. Only then could her work-to-date take shape and show what she still had to do. If the signal was strong enough, she would also do some research on the internet.
The day seemed to stretch out in front of her, but she hoped the time would pass quickly once she was immersed in her work. Shutting out other thoughts in order to concentrate on her work was, however, not as easy as she’d anticipated. Normally, she had no difficulty in focusing on the job at hand, but today, it proved impossible. Her mind kept wandering to what lay ahead the following day.
Anna couldn’t picture the details of the scene at all. She was unable to visualise George’s cottage, nor could she create for herself an image of Janet Maclean. How foolish to think she could combine academic research with affairs so close to her heart.
She suddenly had an overpowering need to talk to Roddie. Without stopping to think about whether this was a good moment, she brushed her notes aside and keyed in his mobile number. It was engaged. No point in leaving a message. She needed to talk to someone. Her mum, maybe?
Moira Ballantyne picked up immediately, almost as though she had been waiting for the call.
‘Hi Mum.’
‘Hello, dear. How are things going with you?’
‘That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m going to meet Janet, my birth mother, tomorrow.’
There was silence at the other end of the line.
‘Are you still there, Mum?’
‘Yes, dear, waiting to hear the details.’ Moira Ballantyne’s voice was strong, while Anna’s was shaky; she felt powerless to control it.
‘It was George – I’ve told you about him, the one I met on the first day here – who arranged it. He’ll come and pick me up, then take me to his cottage. Janet will be there when we arrive.’
‘That sounds ideal, Anna. You’ll be on neutral ground. I presume your friend George will be around if he’s needed, but can make himself scarce if that’s appropriate. Are you happy about the way it’s turned out?’
‘I think so, Mum. I’m so nervous. I don’t know what to do with myself today to put the time in. I can’t settle to anything.’
‘Of course you’re nervous, dear. Who wouldn’t be? This is a big step in both your lives, but you’ve thought it through and you know it’s what you want.’
‘Sometimes I wonder if it is what I want. I’m not sure if I should have started this in the first place. It’s strange, you know. When George is around, I’m certain that it’s the right thing to do. It’s when I’m on my own that I have doubts.’
‘I’ve said before, dear, I think it’s something you have to get out of your system. You have no idea how you’ll feel tomorrow, but now you’re so close, it would be a pity to miss the opportunity to meet her. You’ve told us that’s what you truly want. I think you’re just suffering from last-minute nerves today.’
‘Oh, Mum, you’re such a great support,’ Anna said. A wave of emotion washed over her as she thought about how her parents must feel. With tears beginning to form, she knew she must make it clear to her mum that nothing had changed in their relationship with each other. ‘You and Dad have been such wonderful parents to me, and I want you to know how much I love you both. This changes nothing.’
‘And you know how much we love you, Anna. And we’ll continue to love you, no matter what.’ Her mum’s voice didn’t sound quite so strong now, making Anna realise she would have to be so careful to ensure they wouldn’t be hurt in any way.
‘Give Dad my love – he’s at work, I suppose – and I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know how things go. Bye, Mum. Love you heaps.’
‘Bye, dear. All the best for tomorrow. Love you, too.’
Anna slumped back on the sofa for a while before she switched her phone off, as though she didn’t want to sever the connection with her mum.
She felt weary. Knowing there was no point in trying to resume her research; she gathered up her papers and switched off her laptop. The Lords of the Isles would have to take a back seat for the moment.
In her semi-detached villa in the suburbs, Moira Ballantyne dried her eyes and returned to the kitchen where she’d been in the process of preparing vegetables when Anna had phoned. She was annoyed with herself that she hadn’t managed to keep her emotions in check during the phone call. But a call from Anna at this time of the day was unusual; normally, her daughter phoned in the evening, when Fred was home from work.
The Ballantynes had always expected that their adopted daughter might want to contact her birth parents at some point, but Moira and Fred had been surprised that Anna had waited until the age of twenty-four to express any real interest. The other odd thing was that at no time had Anna mentioned her natural father, let alone expressed a desire to meet him.
Moira should phone Fred to let him know Anna had been in touch. Or perhaps she should wait till he came home from work to pass on the news? No. She would call him straight away. The information was important enough to be passed on without delay.
CHAPTER 32
As she sat up in b
ed, late into the night, it occurred to Anna in a desultory way that four other people might possibly be as wide-awake as she was. Janet and George, as well as her mum and dad, would no doubt be finding sleep just as elusive.
She tried to concentrate on her book, but ended up reading the same paragraph several times over, and still she could not recall a single word of what she’d read. Perhaps she should go through to the kitchen and make some tea? Or pour herself a glass of wine? Oh, would tomorrow never come?
Finally, she settled for a cup of tea. As she drank it, she browsed through the maps and guide books of the island, some of which were lying on the table. It was not until the first crack of dawn cast its light on the page she was reading that she realised that two hours had passed without her even noticing. Immersed in the information on the history of Duart Castle, she became aware once again that this island had begun to cast its spell on her.
She had never experienced this feeling before, but she felt completely at home here. Not in the comfortable way she relaxed in her mum and dad’s house, though. No – this was different. Although she had only been here for a couple of weeks, the voice of Mull seemed to be calling her, but not as a recently arrived newcomer. Rather like an ancient refrain that was piercing her heart and calling her home, claiming her as its own. Was there any truth in the myths that abounded in these Hebridean islands? The folklore of the tales of spirits from another world which were passed down through the generations from father to son, mother to daughter? The selkies who enticed the unwary to fall in love with them?
Fanciful thoughts.
George had said he would come about ten o’clock to collect her, but Anna was ready long before that. She walked nervously around the cottage, putting everything she could find on a surface away in a cupboard or a drawer. With a duster in her hand, she wiped the furniture, before filling a basin with soapy water and washing the kitchen worktops. She knew she didn’t have to do any of these chores, but she was too restless to sit down.
