Daughter of Mull

by Joan Fleming

  For no particular reason, she opened the larger cupboard and pushed the camp bed a fraction to the right, then back again to its original position. Suddenly, memories of Roddie pulling out the bed flashed into her mind. She stood for a moment, the faint smell of his aftershave rising from the mattress. Inhaling deeply, she was overcome by a longing to be with him again, so intense it took her breath away. She quickly closed the door.

  When she heard George’s car arrive, Anna checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. Dressed in jeans and T-shirt, which she had ironed carefully, she gave her face and hair a critical look. Light make-up, although her green eyes were a little too bright; the soft dark shadows beneath them betrayed her sleepless night. She had washed her hair earlier, and tied it up in a ponytail; although the sun was shining, she could hear the wind outside stirring the tarpaulins which covered the workmen’s materials, and didn’t want to arrive with her hair dishevelled.

  ‘Morning, Anna,’ George said cheerfully, as she opened the door.

  Anna was on the point of replying when she noticed there was another person in George’s car. Finn! Her heart beat faster as she took in the fact that he was there. Was he coming along to this meeting with her birth mother? It had not crossed Anna’s mind that there would be anyone else besides herself and Janet. And possibly George, although she was sure he would know when to stay and when to make himself scarce. But Finn?

  ‘Morning, George,’ she said, recovering. ‘And to you, too, Finn.’ He gave such a warming smile from where he sat in the back of the car that Anna almost wished he was coming with them.

  ‘We’ll drop Finn off in Fionnphort,’ George said. ‘He’s heading for Iona today.’

  How sensitive this man was. He must have realised how disconcerting the presence of another person would be for Anna, and was at pains to reassure her as quickly as possible that Finn would not be present at the meeting.

  ‘We still have unfinished business on Iona, but not today, Anna,’ Finn said, once they were on their way to the ferry port.

  ‘And up in the north of the island, too, I hear,’ George said. ‘You’re going to be busy, the pair of you.’

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Finn said, leaning forward to give Anna’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘I think the weather looks good for tomorrow. Shall we give it a try?’ Without waiting for an answer, he continued, ‘Iona or Tobermory? Your choice.’

  Anna smiled at the oldest trick in the salesman’s bag. Ask an either/or question rather than one inviting the answer yes or no. It cuts down the risk of a refusal. And it worked.

  ‘Let’s decide tomorrow,’ Anna said.

  ‘I’ll call for you about ten o’clock, and you can tell me then what you’d prefer. Till then,’ Finn said, as he stepped out of the car. Before he walked away, he blew her a kiss, which George may or may not have seen.

  After they’d driven away from the port, Anna and George said little for the first few minutes of the journey. It seemed that neither of them knew how to open the conversation about what was uppermost in Anna’s mind, and – she presumed – in George’s. When the moment came, they both spoke at once.

  ‘Have you—’ Anna began.

  ‘How are you—’ George started to ask.

  They both laughed, then George said, ‘Ladies first.’

  ‘I wanted to ask you if you’d seen Janet this morning. Is she already at your house?’

  ‘No. And no. But I’m sure she’ll be there by the time we arrive. She’s planning to have our coffee ready.’

  ‘That sounds good,’ Anna said. ‘And what was your question?’

  ‘How are you feeling now that the moment you’ve been waiting for is almost here? Are you excited?’

  ‘Excited, yes. But I’m a bit scared as well. What if she decides not to come?’

  ‘She’ll be there. I’m sure of that,’ George said, as he pulled into a passing place to allow the car following them to overtake.

  ‘What if we don’t like each other?’ Anna asked. Aware her voice was shaking slightly, she took a deep breath in an effort to control it.

  Before he started off again, George leaned over and held her face gently between his two hands.

  ‘You’ll like each other, Anna. Trust me.’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  ‘No more buts, Anna. It’ll all work out fine.’

  As they resumed their journey, Anna fervently hoped that he was right.

  CHAPTER 33

  Inside George’s cottage, Janet Maclean rearranged the flowers she had brought. There was a mixture of blue and yellow orchids which she cultivated in her own garden. A few deep red roses – her pride and joy, because they were so difficult to grow here, even in a sheltered spot – added their scent, which filled the air. She had opened the windows when she arrived, but she shivered a little now and pulled her cardigan tight round her as a chill wind caught the shutters at one of the windows. She liked the living room of George’s cottage, with its three windows: two facing south, and the third looking in an easterly direction. The light here was so good for an artist.

  George had invited her on many occasions to paint in this room, but she always refused.

  ‘Not yet, George,’ she would say. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘So, when?’

  ‘I’ll let you know.’

  Coffee. She must prepare the coffee. And if there was one thing in the world that George was fussy about, it was his coffee. If none of the shops locally stocked the blends he favoured at the time, he would order it on the internet and have it delivered.

  ‘A rich blend of Kenyan and Mexican beans,’ she read on the label.

  Janet was perfectly happy with a cup of instant, but George had all sorts of colourful names to describe what he thought of that. She set out three cups, and a plate of Tobermory shortbread, then waited for George to arrive with Anna.

  As she sat very still on one of the two armchairs in the living room, she almost succeeded in stopping herself from thinking about that tiny baby she had given away twenty-five years ago. Except for one thought: if that baby had been born in the circumstances in which she lived today, no power on earth could have wrenched her from her mother’s arms. Her parents were both dead, and Janet was now a free agent, able to do as she liked, without having to obtain anyone’s permission or approval. If only these conditions had applied then. If only.

  A scrunch of tyres on the gravel in the yard at the front of the house pulled her out of her reverie. There was a brief buzz of muffled conversation as George and Anna stepped out of the car, a crunch beneath their shoes as they walked to the front door – and then they were in the hallway.

  George came in first, pulling Anna gently by the hand behind him.

  And there she stood, a nervous smile on her face; that face Janet had tried so many times to paint. And failed.

  ‘Hello, Anna,’ Janet said quietly, and got slowly to her feet. ‘You look exactly as I expected.’

  Anna said nothing.

  ‘Come a bit closer. Let me have a good look at you.’

  George led Anna, who still clung onto his hand, until she was standing face-to-face with her birth mother. Janet opened her arms, and Anna walked into her embrace.

  Half an hour later, all three sat at the table in George’s living room, drinking their freshly-made coffee. The two women had dried their tears while George busied himself in the kitchen preparing the coffee – a task which suited him far better than participating in the emotional scene in the living room. Having helped to bring mother and daughter together, his job was done and he could relax. He had heard little for the first few minutes, but voices had gradually become louder, with an occasional ripple of laughter. When both began to talk at once, he had reckoned it was time to serve the coffee.

  Janet and Anna sat on one side of the table, George opposite them. Although he said little, he was able to fill the occasional moment of silence in the conversation with a few well-chosen words. Simply seeing the two women side-by-side made it
obvious that they were related. Yes, there were some differences, like the few strands of grey in Janet’s red hair, or the ruddier complexion of the older woman. But they had the same elfin-shaped face, the same laugh lines when they smiled, even the same small, neat teeth.

  There was no way one could deny the other, and if Anna were to remain on Mull, it would not be long before the information passed along the branches of the gossip tree which extended from one end of the island to the other.

  George decided this needed clarification, as it might dictate their movements in the future.

  ‘Janet,’ he began carefully, ‘at the moment, we are the only people who know what’s going on here, as far as we can judge.’

  ‘Oh, you know what the islands are like, George. There are people who suspected something twenty-five years ago, I’m sure, but never had anything concrete to lay their suspicions on. If it’s all right with you, Anna, I’m going to shout it from the roof tops. They’ll ask questions, of course, but I suggest we answer them truthfully. I’ve had twenty-five years of secrets and half-truths, and I’m longing to put an end to that. What do you think, Anna?’

  ‘That’s fine by me.’ Anna paused. Her face flushed red for a moment, before she continued. ‘But, what do I call you?’

  ‘What about Janet?’ George said, as both women looked hesitant. ‘You can always move on to something different later if you want.’

  As the moments ticked by, Anna lost her nervousness. She had established an immediate bond with Janet, and felt comfortable in her company. But she was grateful that George was there, sitting on the sidelines. Any slight awkwardness sent him in to ease the flow of the exchanges, but at no time did he take the lead or try to influence the discussion.

  When George’s mobile rang, he stood up and left the room to take the call.

  ‘Anna,’ Janet said softly, ‘I think we have covered a lot in our first day. It was George who suggested we have our first meeting here, and I think that was a good idea. But next time I’d really like you to come to my cottage, where we can get to know each other better. Will you come?’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’d love to. Perhaps George would—’

  ‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ he said, as he returned to the living room.

  Janet explained what they’d arranged.

  ‘At your service, ladies. I have no other function in life but to attend to your wishes.’ He gave a mock bow.

  A gentle dig in the ribs from Janet brought his servile play-acting to an abrupt end.

  CHAPTER 34

  Janet Maclean sat hugging herself, rocking gently on the chair which filled a corner in George’s living room. It had belonged to first his grandmother, then his mother, where they used to sit knitting in the evening. She was crooning softly to herself, a keening sound expressing the mixture of emotions she felt. Earlier, there had been a point when she had thought her feelings were so intense they would overwhelm her.

  How could she be so deliriously happy, whilst at the same time desperately sad? Having spent the last twenty-five years dulling down her emotions, refusing to allow herself to experience any depth of feeling, she had now opened the gate for it all to flood in. And she couldn’t deal with it.

  When George returned from running Anna back to Benview, he took one look at the figure sitting in the corner of the room.

  ‘Janet? Janet, are you all right?’ he asked, kneeling down beside the rocking chair. ‘What is it, love?’

  At first, Janet was unable to speak. She took in the concern in George’s eyes, and wanted to dispel it, but couldn’t find the words. George grasped both her hands, and held them in his firm grip.

  ‘Your hands are so cold, Janet. Come over and warm them by the fire.’ He eased her out of the rocking chair, and, with his arm round her shoulders, led her to the sofa by the fire. Leaving her briefly, he went over to a sideboard, and lifted a bottle of whisky from a tray. He poured a small measure into a glass and handed it to her.

  ‘Here. Drink this,’ he said. ‘It’ll warm you up.’ He made to sit down, but changed his mind and went back to the sideboard. ‘I think I’ll have a dram myself – it’s been a bit of a day.’

  Sitting on the sofa sipping their drinks, they soon felt the warming effects of the spirit. George eventually spoke. ‘Better now?’

  ‘Yes,’ Janet answered, giving him a wan smile. ‘It was as if the emotions of a quarter of a century had joined together and swamped me. Sadness and happiness rolled into one. Regret for the past, and excitement for the future. It was just all too much.’

  ‘So, you’ll still see her tomorrow?’ George asked.

  ‘Yes, I’d like to meet her in my own home, so that she can picture me where I belong.’ Janet took another sip of her drink.

  ‘You know you can belong here any time you like,’ he said. ‘My home is your home.’

  ‘Oh George, I know that. And I promise you I’ll give you an answer once I settle down again. But this is all too recent. Can’t you see that?’

  ‘Of course I can, my dear. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you. It was the mention of the word home.’

  She leaned into him, and he tightened his arm around her.

  ‘You’ve been so patient, George. You’ve waited so long. Many men would have given up long ago. I really don’t deserve you.’

  ‘It’s not a question of deserving. You are the only woman in the world for me. If I can’t have you, I don’t want anyone.’

  She lifted her face up for the kiss she knew was coming.

  The following morning, Janet looked around her own cottage with a more critical eye than usual. What would Anna think of her home? It was rather old-fashioned, but it looked every inch like an artist’s home. The heavy furniture was arranged around the fireplace, where a peat fire was always burning. On one wall, not the one which received most light, there was a shallow cabinet with two doors. It had originally been shelving which had displayed her mother’s china, but Janet had asked the local joiner to remove the shelves and replace them with a locking cupboard. She’d told him it was for her artwork – which was partly true.

  From a sideboard drawer, she extracted a key and walked over to the cupboard. She stood for a moment before unlocking the doors and opening them wide. George was the only other person who had seen inside the cupboard since it was constructed.

  Tears rolled down her face and fell unheeded onto her scarf, and she stood for a long time before carefully locking the doors again and replacing the key in the sideboard drawer.

  Did meeting Anna change anything? Would that cabinet have an altered significance now? She couldn’t tell. But she must ask Anna to share it with her when she came the next day.

  CHAPTER 35

  Anna couldn’t wait to tell Roddie about her meeting with Janet. She dialled his mobile number, but it went straight to voicemail. Strange, she thought. She’d never had any difficulty contacting him before. She tried his office number – Flo would know why he didn’t answer. Voicemail again.

  Deciding not to leave a message, she opted to phone her mum and dad. She knew they would be waiting for her call, anxious to find out if everything had gone to plan.

  When she phoned them, her mum picked up immediately.

  ‘Anna? How did it go, dear?’ her mum asked.

  ‘Everything was fine, Mum. We were both nervous, but once we were past the first few minutes, there was no problem. She looks so like me.’

  ‘I think you mean you look so like her,’ Moira said with a nervous laugh. ‘By the way, what did you call her?’ Her studied casual tone was not lost on Anna.

  ‘Janet. I called her Janet, Mum. I couldn’t call her Mum or Mother. You’re my mum.’

  Was that a sigh of relief at the other end of the phone? Anna wondered.

  ‘Did you go to her house?’ Moira asked.

  ‘No. George came to collect me and we met in his house,’ Anna said.

  ‘So, where is that? George’s house, I mean.’

&nbs
p; Anna tried to think. Where was it? She had no recollection whatsoever of the journey to George’s house, oblivious to him pointing out everything of interest on the way.

  ‘Mum, I can’t actually remember. My head was so full of what was going to happen, I didn’t pay attention to anything else. To be honest, I can’t remember a thing about George’s house, either. We were in a living room, but don’t ask me to describe it. I do remember the smell of peat burning, but that’s all. Oh, and the crunch of our footsteps on the gravel as we left.’

  ‘You’ll probably need some time to let it all sink in, but I’m so happy for you, dear.’

  ‘You know you’re the best mum in the whole wide world, and nothing will change that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Moira replied, her voice trembling. ‘I’ll let you speak to your dad now.’

  Fred had clearly been listening to the conversation, so there was no need to repeat anything the women had said.

  ‘Hello, Anna. I’m pleased everything is going well. Your mum’s just gone to fetch another box of tissues. Man-sized. I think that means she’s happy,’ Fred joked. ‘She’s been worrying that you would come back from Mull without meeting your birth mother, and she would have been so disappointed for you. We both would.’

  ‘Oh, Dad, you can’t believe how lucky I feel to have two parents like you. I love you both so much, and that’s forever.’

  ‘Don’t worry about us, Anna. We know that. And we hope you’ll find it in your heart to love Janet, too. Love expands to meet the people who deserve it. There’s no limit.’