One room faced inland and the other out to sea. To my mind there was no contest; I picked the room with the sea view and hoped that the weather would be better in the morning. I might not be allowed in the water but I still found it fascinating to look at.
The bed was a showy affair made from brass, elaborately dressed with drapes and lots of pillows. A round, marble-topped table served as a nightstand. On top of this table were a crocheted doily and a crystal lamp. A wooden dresser, also topped in marble, supported a tilting mirror. Drawers embellished with carvings sported ornate brass handles.
I looked at my reflection and confirmed the worst; I looked as terrible as I felt. Red welts circled my neck from where Dom had picked me up. Hopefully I wouldn’t bruise. What had caused him to be so aggressive? How could my arrival trigger that sort of reaction?
With a deep sigh, I closed the curtains and turned on the bedside lamp. I switched off the main light, peeled off my wet clothes and emptied my case onto the bed.
The pained cry of an animal distracted me from sorting my clothes into the drawers and drew me to the window. I was surprised to hear anything over the wind that buffeted the house. Ignoring my nakedness, I pulled back the heavy velvet curtains and looked both left and right but saw nothing save for the uneven sheet of water running down the glass.
I closed the curtains again and finished my unpacking. As soon as I was dressed in something more appropriate for the weather outside, I went out to explore.
The rain had stopped but leaden clouds still edged across the sky. Mum had told me that during the summer months here the nights were never truly dark but the storm smothered the remaining light and made exploring difficult. I’d have to watch my step.
I checked my watch. Midnight.
I picked a path and followed it until it petered out close to the cliff’s edge. To my right was the drop-off and beyond it the open sea.
A break in the cloud illuminated the muddy broth that churned and crashed against the beach below. My stomach tightened as I looked over the edge so I drew back, fearing I’d be picked up and flung into the waves below.
I walked the other way, glancing back at the house. A dim red light from a second-floor room followed me like an eye. That must be my father’s room. Perhaps the locked door led to another staircase?
Any island peaks had been weathered flat. Squat houses speckled the planed surface, hunkering down in the distance, as if scared to face the wrath of the howling wind that still raged around me. No living movement registered. Everything seemed to have found refuge where it could.
The ground hardened beneath my feet and became another path of sorts, the tough grass worn away by many feet. I followed and smiled when I finally saw the inviting glow of a pub, The Auld Hoose. Trust a pub to look like the only welcoming place here.
I loitered outside, unsure whether or not to go in, until the dropping temperature forced me to take shelter. I hoped the locals were friendlier than Dom because I wasn’t in the mood for any more disappointment tonight.
But only wood-smoke greeted me as I stepped in. I flexed my stiff hands as I looked around. A slack-jawed woman stood behind the bar, staring at me with utter shock.
“Who are ye?”
“Hello.” I didn’t walk towards her but hovered by the entrance. She looked like she might scream at any moment. I had no idea what she was so frightened of and then remembered how late it was. I wasn’t sure what the licensing laws were here but pubs weren’t normally open this late. “I’m sorry. Are you closed?”
“Who are ye?”
“I’m Leven. I’ve just arrived.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Are ye Mackay’s beuy?”
Here we go. I nodded. “So I’m told.”
She looked left and right at the five other people in the bar who watched me with equal astonishment. They were so quiet and still that I hadn’t noticed them. To my left an old man sat by the fireplace while an old dog slept in his lap. The table of four men to my right realised they were staring, cast inscrutable looks at each other and then stared into their glasses instead.
It only seemed fair that I could ask a question of my own. “And you are…?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Where are me manners? I’m Maggs.” She held out a podgy hand and her round face burst into a smile but, just as suddenly, she dropped her hand as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m very sorry for yer loss.”
I was surprised that she knew about Mum but I didn’t feel ready to ask her how she knew of her death. I still felt unsettled from Dom’s reaction to my arrival and I didn’t know who I could trust. “Thank you. Could I have a pint please?”
“He’s got some manners then,” one of the men chuckled. “Might be hope for him yet.”
What the hell did that mean?
Maggs pulled the pint, placed it on a dog-eared bar towel and cast a look over me. “How’s yer dad? We haven’t seen him in a long time.”
She asked about him so nicely that I knew she didn’t like him at all and I wondered why. I gulped the pint down in a few seconds. “I haven’t actually met him yet. Can I have another please?”
She pulled it. I drank it. Rinse and repeat. So far, so good. I figured that if I got drunk enough I’d pluck up the courage to ask about my father and, with a beer coat, I’d find my way back to the house without dying of exposure.
The men at the table looked amused at her obvious discomfort.
“And Dom?” she said. “How is he?”
Feeling reckless, I pulled down my collar to show her the welts on my neck.
“Dom did that? I don’t believe it,” she chuntered. Did this woman only do disbelief?
“You’re joking, right? He’s a madman. He talks gibberish.”
She laughed incredulously. “His English is very good considering he…”
“He what?” It seemed there was more to both my father and Dom.
She ignored the question. “Ye must have scared him. Dom’s the softest thing God put on this earth. I’ve never seen him raise his hand to anyone.”
I felt a tiny spark of irritation at her attitude. As she continued to praise him the spark lit a low flame of anger. My right hand clenched around my glass as I tried to snuff the flame out. “Clearly you haven’t seen him around many people.”
“And is it any wonder, the way he’s been treated?” Her entire head turned red as soon as she said it and I knew she was talking about Mackay. She busied herself by rubbing a cloth over a perfectly clean section of the bar and avoided further eye contact with me.
“Why? Did something happen between them?”
If she rubbed that counter any harder she’d take the varnish off it. “I’ve said too much.”
“Beuy, Dom is the least of yer worries,” a feeble voice chuckled to my left. It was the old boy by the fireplace.
“Tammie!” Maggs whirled to face him. “Don’t ye be interfering now or I’ll ask ye to settle yer tab.”
“Oh shut up, woman.” His milky eyes turned to me and he gave me a wide, toothless grin. “Buy me a whisky and I’ll tell ye why folks around here aren’t fond of yer father, although they might be too scared to admit it.” He looked pointedly at Maggs.
Intrigued, I bought him his drink and settled into the carver chair beside him. The leather was old and dry, much like Tammie himself, but it was comfortable and warm from the fire.
He kicked off his shoes to reveal feet barely covered by ragged socks. The old dog on his lap barked softly in its sleep. “It boils down to this, beuy; folks on these islands have long memories.”
“And I’m guessing not much else happens here to help them forget.”
The joke wasn’t lost on him but his little laugh turned into a larger cough. The dog slept through it. Tammie pulled a hankie from his pocket and dabbed his mouth with a trembling hand. “I’m sorry to say ye speak the truth but it goes back further than that. Something one of yer forefathers did still plays heavy on their minds to this day.”
&nb
sp; “That doesn’t sound fair.”
“Folks do forgive but yer father seems to be cut from the same cloth as the one that started all the trouble.”
I took a gulp of my pint and didn’t respond. I was in no place to defend a man I didn’t know myself. Besides, I wanted to know as much about my family history as I could.
Tammie continued. “So back in eighteen fourteen some ferrylouper by the name of Mackay sets himself up on the island. Folks took an instant dislike to him-”
“Just because he was different?” Wait until they got a load of me.
“No beuy, no. Because he was a wrongdoer.” He held up a fragile hand. “Let me finish. Mackay owned plenty of land but wasn’t too keen on folks trampling over it to visit the standing stones scattered throughout. He decided to tear them down, every one, starting with the Odin Stone-”
“Odin? Isn’t he a Viking god?”
Once more, Tammie’s laugh turned into a chesty cough. “Got ourselves a genius here, Maggs. Yes, beuy. In that one act he goes from general dislike to absolute hatred.”
“Because of a stone?”
“Not just any stone, the Odin Stone. Folks round here visited the stones for all sorts of reasons; some for celebration, some for ceremonies and some for altogether darker reasons. The Odin Stone was believed to be the most powerful one of them all.”
The room felt a little colder as I absorbed what he was saying. “So what happened?”
“Within a day of the Odin Stone falling, some islanders tried to burn down his house and drive him away but he stood fast. Finally someone got the law involved and stopped him from destroying any more but the real damage was already done.”
“Couldn’t they rebuild it?”
Tammie shrugged. “How could they? The pieces were lost. There’s the odd drunk who swears that his millstone is part of it but no one can prove anything.”
“So that’s why people don’t like my father?”
“No, but the association doesn’t do him any favours. No, yer father set his sights on the old lighthouse on the northern cliff. Told everyone he was restoring it. Word got out that he was turning it into apartments and the builders, all being local lads, walked out and left him with the shell. Then he got sick and we haven’t seen him since.” Tammie fixed me with his milky eyes. “I must say ye look very well, considering.”
“Considering what?”
He leaned towards me, his voice barely a whisper. “Considering yer father told us ye were dead.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dismissal
Maggs appeared between us and snatched Tammie’s glass from his clawed hand. “That’s quite enough of that for one day, thank ye very much! Pay Tammie no attention, Leven. It’s late and no doubt ye’re keen to be getting home.”
Tammie’s dog woke up as they started bickering.
I’d stopped listening. I tried to process what Tammie had just said. Until recently, everyone had thought that I was dead.
Maggs was still talking. “- and he’s on his way to fetch ye,” she finished.
My attention shifted back from my thoughts. “Who?”
Tammie grinned at me again. He was enjoying this.
“Dom, of course. Ye looked a bit pale, boy, so I thought ye’d be better off at home, not here listening to all this nonsense.” She glared at Tammie before bustling her way back to the bar. “Oh, here he is now.”
And there he stood, as gigantic and as imposing as ever. To have arrived here so fast he must have been close by. Had he been watching me? He hovered in the doorway as I had done moments before. I was relieved that everyone stared at him for a change. One of the men at the table gave him a tentative wave which he acknowledged with a curt nod.
Tammie’s dog growled at Dom and then pushed its head against its owner’s hands, seeking comfort.
As he stroked the dog’s greying head, Tammie sang softly.
“Ba, ba peerie t’ing, sleep a bonnie nappie; thoo’ll sleep an’ I will sing, makin’ lassack happy. Ba, ba lammie noo, cuddle doon tae mammie; trowies canna tak’ thoo, hushie ba lammie, hushie ba lammie, hushie ba…”
The song was familiar to me but I had no memory on which to attach either the lyric or the melody. The dog’s eyes drooped and it was soon snoring again. My eyes felt heavy, too.
Maggs raised her eyebrows at Dom, her hands on her hips. When he didn’t remove me fast enough for her liking she trundled over and pulled me up out of my chair. I dragged my feet like a reluctant child on its first day at school. She wanted me out of there. Fast. But why?
“I hope ye’ll enjoy yer stay, lad. If you need anything before that then I’m sure Dom can help ye. I’ve given him strict instructions not to let you out of his sight until you’re safely on your way home.”
I looked up in time to catch a silent exchange between before she squared up to him. “And Dom, ye be sure to speak yer best for Leven here, ye ken?”
He glared at me then cleared his throat. “Aye, Maggs, Ah’ll try ma very best tae speak better.”
We were hurried outside before I could even say goodnight to Tammie. I struggled to keep up with Dom as he strode off in the direction of the house.
“What happened?” he grumbled. “Maggs said ye looked scared.”
“Like you care. The old boy was telling me stories.”
“A great gappus, is Tammie. Pay him no attention.”
“So where were you to have arrived so fast?”
A mist was coming in and in the faded light the house glowed like a candle in a frosted jar. Dom slowed a little and then stopped. By the time I caught up to him he stood motionless, looking at anything but me.
I searched his face. “Well?”
His steel eyes caught mine for a moment before he dropped his head but he still didn’t reply.
Kicking a stone across the path I watched it skid and roll before it came to a stop against the side wall. Just how I felt; sudden acceleration into this weirdness then - bam! - nothing. The only person that had told me anything so far was Tammie and I had been removed from his presence.
I pushed past Dom towards the house but stopped in front of the kitchen door. “Isn’t there another way in?”
He gestured to my left. “Main door’s roond there. Hasn’t been used in years. Ah doubt Ah have the key.”
I shrugged and shouldered the kitchen door open, the alcohol loosening my tongue. “No problem, I’m a back door kind of guy.” I doubted he even knew what I meant. Gay guys from around here would probably have escaped on the first ferry to the mainland. In all my uncertainty I was sure of that.
Upstairs, I ran a bath and undressed quickly, eager to submerge myself into the steaming, foamy water. It felt so good to soak before I washed and shaved. I padded downstairs while I brushed my teeth and scanned the bookcase I’d noticed in the sitting room earlier. It took longer than planned so I swallowed mouthfuls of minty foam while I browsed.
A collection of pristine seventies paperbacks painted my father in a different light than I’d expected but the top shelves housed older, leather-bound tomes.
Several books on myths and legends caught my attention. As a kid, I’d loved the old movies about Greek heroes. On a cold, wet Sunday afternoon I’d wrap myself up and flick through the television channels until I found one to watch. I pulled a book about local legends off a shelf and climbed the stairs.
Getting into bed proved to be tricky. The sheet was fitted so tightly that I bent a fingernail as I worked it loose enough to get in. As soon as my head hit the pillow my nose started to itch and I realised that the room needed a good dusting. I flipped the pillow over carefully then skimmed the stories in the book but my body had other ideas and I disappeared into sleep’s shadows.
The sun burns down on me. The dog lies at my feet. The man lifts the dog into his arms. The dog’s head slips from the man’s arms and water pours out of its mouth. I can’t take my eyes of the water trickling between the dead blades of grass. It is moving towards me like
it’s alive. I reach out. My hand looks different, blackened skin cracked like an old lady’s heels. I touch the water and instantly it is gone. My hand looks normal again. I point it at the man. He clutches his chest and starts to scream.
But his scream turned out to be my own. I woke, my t-shirt soaked through with sweat and, as I lifted my head off the pillow, I felt more sweat trickle down the back of my neck. I tried to shake off the dream like I had on so many other nights. I lay still and concentrated on slowing my breathing.
Once my heart rate returned to normal I switched on the lamp and checked my watch. Four in the morning. I’d hardly slept at all. My head pounded and the room felt cold. I made a mental note to move the bed away from the exterior wall later.
I heard noises from downstairs, the rustle of a coat perhaps and then the kitchen door opened and closed. I pulled the bedspread tight around me and crossed to the window, sliding in behind the curtains.
A large figure hurried down the slope to the beach to the right of my bedroom window. It had to be Dom and I wondered where he was going, again, at this time of night.
Fully alert now, I decided to follow him. I threw on as many layers as I could manage and went out into the night. The bitter wind numbed my jaw, and I pulled my scarf up to ward off the ache that it would turn into.
The slope was solid bedrock and I fell several times, too intent on not losing sight of Dom to pay much attention to my footing. Finally reaching the beach, I spotted him standing alone on the sand, a dozen feet from the tide mark.
As I approached, a wave raced towards him and he leaped backwards to avoid getting wet. I noticed how fast and graceful he was for his size but also that he moved like a man frightened not only of getting wet but of the water itself. His scared expression confirmed my suspicion.
He reacted to my arrival by turning his back on me and looking back out over the water.
I debated whether or not to keep walking and ignore him but he had seen me now. I had questions and was determined to get some answers.
Body of Water Page 7
