by Joan Fleming
What was interfering with Amy’s concentration on her work even more, though, was her own reaction to the handsome diver. She had felt more than a frisson of interest when he stared at her, too, with obvious approval. Was she really so fickle? She was trying to come to a final decision on whether she should marry Sandy–the man she was sure she loved–yet she had still responded to the attraction of a total stranger. This gorgeous hunk of a man had sent her hormones rushing round her body. She was heading for her thirtieth birthday, and yet found herself behaving like a love-struck teenager. Perhaps the diver had special skills? He had all but hypnotised the two women the first time they met him.
Giving up the idea of work, she decided to take a long walk along the coastline to see if it would help her to sort out the tangle of emotions fighting for her attention. The sight, sound and smell of the sea always filled her with exhilaration. Against the backdrop of the beauty of the landscape, the swell of the water as it hit the shore took hold on her senses, putting her problems into perspective. Breathing in the fresh, salty tang of the sea, mingled with the scent of the undergrowth that covered the rocky shoreline, she felt as if her body and her mind were being refreshed in an unending offering from nature. Yes, her island had the answer. Given the opportunity, she was sure this island would always help her to find a solution to some of her problems, some of her dilemmas.
Was it to do with her own special relationship with Mull? Or would it do the same for Kirsty? Only time would tell.
Chapter 17
Kirsty could not chase the problem of the missing whisky out of her mind. On the basis that worrying about it would make no difference to the outcome, she tried to forget all about it. Unfortunately, she had been using her surroundings and her activities at Lochside to fill her mind in order to leave no space for thoughts of Adam or the accident. That familiar lurch in her stomach was becoming more and more difficult to escape.
Still uncertain as to what she should do, she once again tried to raise Elsa on her mobile phone–with the same result as before. No response, not even an invitation to leave a message. Perhaps she should contact the police? After all, if the bottles of whisky had been stolen, that meant a crime had been committed, so it should be in the hands of the law.
She was, however, reluctant to do that. Until she was able to speak to Elsa, she didn’t really know if the whisky had been stolen. Perhaps it was under lock and key for safekeeping somewhere in the inn. Besides, there was only one apparent suspect: Finn. Kirsty had to admit to herself that she badly wanted to believe he had nothing to do with it. She had enjoyed the time she’d spent with him–albeit their introduction to each other had been, to say the least, unorthodox. And she was looking forward to his return from Iona, when she hoped he would call in at Lochside Inn and renew their acquaintance. The last thing she wanted was the local constable to be waiting for him as he stepped off the ferry.
She wished there was someone other than Amy she could confide in. She’d wasted enough of Amy’s time, and had no plans to raise the subject with her again. There were others she could contact, friends who had been in the group of young people who used to spend their summers on the island. But in the intervening years they had moved on–as she had. Although Kirsty had enjoyed being part of the crowd, the one she felt closest to was Amy.
In the letters Elsa had sent her, she had given snippets of news about the members of the teenage group, but Kirsty had made no move to contact them directly. There was nothing major reported in Elsa’s messages–no drama, no weddings, no babies. For the first time it struck her as rather strange that none of the couples had any additions to their families.
But, she reminded herself, nor had she and Adam. They had been married for two years, and Kirsty had always assumed they would have children. All at once it struck her like a thunderbolt, perhaps Adam’s constant absence from home meant he had changed his mind about having a family. They had planned to go house-hunting during the summer, searching for a home away from the city centre, but that was now out of the question.
Picking up her mobile, she stabbed at Adam’s number only to find that it was unobtainable. Nor was there a message from him. Perhaps he had deleted her from his mobile, even erased her from his life?
All her hopes and dreams for the future were now in ruins, like the collapse of a castle built in the sand, unable to withstand the power of the waves as the tide came in. What stretched in front of her was a life of loneliness, the same solitary state she had endured in her early years.
Recognising the hollow left by the disintegration of her life-plan, she surrendered to the tears that coursed, unchecked, down her cheeks.
Chapter 18
Although she was half-expecting it, Kirsty was startled by the knock at the door. She had finished her meal and was ensconced in front of the peat fire, engrossed in a drama on television. Wondering how–or even if–she was going to broach the subject of the missing whisky bottles, she rose from her armchair and walked to the front door. In that short distance, she felt her pulse quicken, sending fluttering messages round her system. Smiling, she opened the front door, a welcome ready on her lips. In an instant, the expression on her face froze. Her heartbeat seemed to crescendo, and she could feel it in every part of her body.
The man standing on the doorstep of Lochside Inn was not Finn. It was Adam.
‘Hello, Kirsty.’ There was nothing in Adam’s appearance or his tone of voice that revealed why he was there, nothing that prepared Kirsty for whatever he was planning to say to her. He stood in front of her, his brown, curly hair retaining its shape despite the wind. Although he filled most of the door-frame with his bulk, his face looked thinner, somehow, the crease between his dark eyebrows more pronounced.
‘Adam,’ she said. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
‘Would it be all right if I came in?’ he asked, smiling.
‘Of course, of course,’ she said, ushering him into the hall as if he was a stranger.
She pulled the door open a little wider, then turned on her heel and led the way into the lounge. For something to do, she walked over to the television and turned it off.
The man she had married and lived with for two years stood, looking awkward, as if he had planned this up to the point of entering the inn, and now had run out of ideas on what to do next. They’d parted on such bad terms; the last thing Kirsty had expected was to see him here.
‘I thought you were in London,’ she said.
‘You sound disappointed I’m here,’ Adam replied.
‘Not disappointed… surprised. You said you wouldn’t be back till the job was finished. I thought it would take longer.’
‘I have to go back to London,’ he said. ‘The job’s on hold at the moment. There’s an appeal against planning permission to be heard. But I needed to see you.’
Kirsty shivered. Her surroundings–the pictures on the walls, the fireplace, the window overlooking the loch–all receded as her vision clouded. It felt as though they were operating in a parallel universe where their final challenges to each other as they parted, to end their relationship, had never been put into words.
At last she focused on Adam. What was he planning to say?
‘Maybe we should sit down,’ she said. ‘Would you like to take your jacket off?’
‘Thank you.’
The strained atmosphere in the room was almost palpable. Suspecting her legs might have difficulty supporting her, Kirsty didn’t offer to take his jacket. ‘Just hang it over the back of that chair,’ she said.
While Adam fussed with his jacket, she had time to recover her composure, and her voice was back in command when she next spoke. ‘You said you needed to see me?’
‘I’m not sure where to start…’ Adam said.
‘How about “I decided to spend the summer working in London rather than go on holiday with my wife”?’
‘Ouch!’ he said. ‘You know how to aim for the jugular, Kirsty.’
‘I
’m simply looking at the facts. Just tell me why you’ve come to Mull, Adam.’
‘I’m here to talk about where we go from here.’
‘I’ve been under the impression we don’t go anywhere. A divorce? If that’s what you’re after…’
‘Stop right there, Kirsty. What gave you that idea? I don’t want a bloody divorce!’
Adam never swore in her company, and the use of the word bloody acted as a trigger for Kirsty. Suddenly she felt supercharged. She leapt to her feet.
‘So say why you’re here, then take your jacket and leave.’
Adam also stood up, and they faced each other like two boxers in the ring. Their relationship had always had a fiery element, the result of two people with strong views working their way through their differences of opinion. Once they’d had the opportunity to air their respective viewpoints, they usually calmed down.
‘It’s worth having an argument every now and then,’ Adam was in the habit of saying. ‘Because then we need to make up. And then we know how much we love each other.’
There will be no making up now, Kirsty thought.
‘Is there anyone else here, or are you on your own?’ Adam asked.
‘There’s no-one else here for the moment, but I’m expecting someone.’
‘Can we please sit down again, and would you be prepared to listen to what I’ve come here to say?’
Kirsty hesitated a few seconds, but then nodded her head. Once they were both seated again, she looked up expectantly.
‘I’ve been doing some thinking,’ Adam said. ‘Ever since the accident, things haven’t been right between us. We’ve grown apart, and I simply don’t know what to do about it.’
‘So you arrange to be away as much as possible,’ Kirsty prompted.
‘Kirsty, I probably deserve it, but could you please put your aggro on hold for a few minutes and listen?’
‘Go ahead.’
Adam took a deep breath, then began once more. ‘You can’t believe how bad I feel about the accident…’
‘You feel bad… At least you can look in a mirror…’
‘Stop it, Kirsty. Please. I feel responsible for what happened to you…’
‘And now you have to run away from the result. I know you must hate looking at my face…’ she said.
‘What? Hate looking at your face? How can you say that?’ He stared at her, his expression making it clear he had not expected this response.
Kirsty summoned all her willpower to hold back the tears which, she knew, would stop her making her feelings plain to Adam. She swallowed hard. ‘You’re almost never at home; you go away whenever you have the chance…’ With a defiant toss of her head, she looked him straight in the eye and asked directly: ‘Is there someone else?’
His reaction surprised her. He laughed. A brittle sound she couldn’t believe came from him. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kirsty. How could there be someone else? I’m working round the clock…’
‘Why, Adam? What is it you’re working for?’ It was more of a challenge than a question.
Adam gave a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. Was it tiredness? Or despair?
Kirsty sat stock still on her chair. She suddenly became conscious she was holding her breath, waiting for what Adam would say next. Forcing herself to breathe, she asked again, ‘What is it you’re working for? More money? There’s no point in that–we never have time to spend it.’
‘Kirsty…’ he began once more but faltered, as if he couldn’t find the words to continue. He was gazing down at her hands. When she’d left Glasgow to come to Mull she had deliberately left her rings behind. There was no wedding band on her finger. He raised his head slowly.
She rubbed the finger where her rings had been, thinking how cold and empty it felt. He noticed.
‘I see you’re not wearing your rings.’
‘Why would I? Wear them, I mean. My marriage is over.’
‘And how do you feel about that?’
Kirsty had no opportunity to answer his question, as there was a loud knocking at the door. She got up and walked into the hall.
I can’t bear this, she thought.
‘Hello, Finn. Did you manage to go over to Iona?’ Kirsty asked, her voice deliberately loud as she led the way into the lounge.
‘Yes, I did, but…’ Finn stopped short when he saw Adam.
Kirsty made the introductions, giving only the men’s names, and they shook hands.
‘I’ll make some tea,’ she said, thinking of an escape route, and headed for the kitchen to put on the kettle. Clinging to the worktop for support, she took several deep breaths in an attempt to slow down her heartrate. She felt as if she was in the middle of a nightmare.
Once she had served up the tea, she sat with the men, making desultory conversation. All she wanted now was to be left alone, although neither appeared ready to leave. She was relieved they did most of the talking. She answered questions about the island, although she wished Elsa was here to do it in her place. Or Amy. Having spent so much time here, Amy knew far more about Mull than she did. Kirsty had always had less interest in the island, more in her relationship with her granny.
For a few moments, she allowed her thoughts to wander, losing track of the conversation.
‘I think I’ll be off then, Kirsty,’ Adam said, pulling her back to her present situation. ‘I need to catch the next ferry. There’s a storm forecast sometime soon and I must be on the mainland.’
‘I’ll see you to the door,’ she said, jumping up from her chair.
In the hallway, he asked, ‘Can I come back to see you again? To continue our conversation?’
‘Is there more to say?’
‘Oh yes.’
He made to move closer to her, perhaps to take her in his arms? But she swung the door open and stood partly behind it, creating a solid barrier between them.
‘So can I? Come back?’ he said, hesitating on the doorstep.
‘It’s up to you.’
‘Will you be here?’
‘Probably,’ she said. Taking pity on him when she saw how crestfallen he looked, she added, ‘In the afternoons.’
She closed the door then took several deep breaths before returning to the lounge. How would she introduce the subject of the bottles of whisky with Finn?
When she entered the room, though, she saw he was on his feet, sliding into his jacket. There would be no opportunity to discuss anything further with him.
‘I’ll be on my way now, Kirsty,’ he said. ‘I should have left a while back. I’m heading for the Dive Centre, and I’d like to get to Lochaline in time for dinner. I only wanted to stay until Adam left.’ There was something about the way he stressed the word Adam that puzzled her.
‘I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. It was as if he owned you, and I felt uneasy about leaving you alone with him. He didn’t try anything before I arrived, did he?’
Kirsty had difficulty keeping her face straight. ‘No,’ she said. ‘There was no problem.’
‘I’ll be on the island for a few days yet. Maybe we could do something together? Go and find the sea eagles? Or have a look at the salmon fishing?’
‘I’m not sure what I’ll be doing for the rest of this week. It depends when Elsa and Charlie come back. You could phone the Lochside number.’
‘What’s your mobile number?’ he asked.
‘It’s not working at the moment. I’ll have to go to Tobermory to see if I can get it fixed,’ she said, but she was lying. There was nothing wrong with her mobile–as long as there was a signal.
As soon as she waved Finn goodbye, Kirsty smiled to herself in spite of her agitation. The irony of the situation of the two men–one blond, one dark–each trying to outstay the other, was not lost on her. Finn had cast himself in the role of protector, assuming Adam could be a threat; Adam, no doubt all-too-conscious of the absence of rings on his wife’s finger, would have preferred not to leave her in the company of the strikingly good-looking stranger.
Kirsty realised she was stroking the ring finger of her left hand again–it was becoming a habit. Adam had not made it clear to Finn that he and Kirsty were married. She didn’t know whether she was sad or happy about that.
For the rest of the day, Kirsty’s thoughts tumbled over each other in her mind. Worries about Elsa and Charlie were interspersed with visions of Finn disappearing along the road to Fishnish to catch the ferry to Lochaline with Charlie’s whisky in his van. Overlaying these anxieties, the expression on Adam’s face when he noticed she wasn’t wearing her rings refused to leave her.
She was beginning to feel sorry for him. Determined not to slide back into the same pattern as before, however, she resolved not to weaken.
He should have considered the consequences of his actions when he arranged to go to London, she thought.
In an effort to chase away the concerns that were occupying her mind, she sat down by the peat fire and opened her book. She had found Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen on a shelf in the visitors’ lounge, and had decided to read it once more. One of her favourite authors, Jane Austen always managed to carry her off into another world.
The phone ringing pulled her away from the world of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy.
‘Lochview Inn,’ she said.
‘Hi, Kirsty, it’s Amy. Any news of Elsa and Charlie? Have you heard from them?’
‘Not a cheep. I was expecting them to be back in Lochside today, but there’s no sign of them. I’ve tried Elsa’s mobile, but it’s dead. Not even a voicemail to leave a message.’
‘Elsa’s a besom when it comes to technology. She doesn’t drive, refuses to learn, and she only has a mobile to please Charlie. She’d be as well without it–she never uses it.’
