Sunset over Brightwater Bay

by Holly Hepburn

  ‘And you,’ Niall said before turning slightly. ‘Merry, can I introduce you to Kirsty Tallantyre? And Kirsty, this is Merina Wilde – our current Writer in Residence.’

  Kirsty wiped a hand on her dungarees then held it out to Merry. ‘Lovely to meet you, Merina. Niall’s told me a lot about you.’

  ‘Oh, call me Merry,’ she replied, wondering what exactly Niall might have said. ‘He’s been very mysterious about you and your job.’

  ‘Not mysterious,’ Niall corrected mildly. ‘Discreet. I wanted to let Kirsty tell you herself. But I’ll give you a clue – it’s got something to do with the sheep you were so worried about.’

  Merry thought for a moment. ‘You’re a farmer?’

  Kirsty grinned. ‘More of a builder. And the sheep are the reason I’m here.’

  ‘A builder?’ Merry repeated, looking round for evidence of construction and finding none.

  ‘I’m in charge of the sheep dyke,’ Kirsty said, waving a hand at the stone wall beside them. ‘It runs around the whole of the island – around thirteen miles – and it’s been here since the nineteenth century.’

  Finally, Merry understood. ‘Of course – the wall. To keep the sheep away from the sea.’

  But Kirsty shook her head. ‘Not quite. To keep the sheep beside the sea.’

  Niall grinned. ‘Meet the famous seaweed-eating sheep of North Ronaldsay,’ he said, with the air of a magician presenting a trick. ‘Their digestive systems are specially adapted to get nutrients from it – they live on the shore for most of the year and the wall is to stop them from coming ashore and eating the grass.’

  Kirsty saw Merry’s confused expression. ‘I know, it sounds weird, doesn’t it? But they’re a rare breed only found on the island – their bodies are used to seaweed,’ she explained. ‘If they eat too much grass, they don’t absorb the correct nutrients and can suffer from copper poisoning. Part of my job is to make sure they stay on the shore where there’s plenty of the right food.’

  ‘Got it,’ Merry said. ‘You’re responsible for maintaining the wall.’

  ‘That’s right. My official job title is Sheep Dyke Warden and I travel around the island, repairing and rebuilding the parts that have been damaged by the winter storms or just the passage of time.’

  Merry gazed at her in fascination. ‘That’s amazing. How long have you been doing it?’

  Kirsty tipped her head. ‘Only since last November. The dyke was being maintained by volunteers but, despite their best efforts, it’s been slowly falling into disrepair for a while. North Ronaldsay Trust decided to create a permanent role for someone to take care of the upkeep full time and I got the job.’

  ‘Wow,’ Merry said, thinking that it must be the kind of thankless task even Hercules would have blanched at. ‘And how’s it going so far?’

  ‘It has its up and downs,’ Kirsty admitted wryly. ‘The bad weather earlier this year meant several stretches of dyke were damaged. And the ferry was cancelled a lot, which made getting food interesting. But things are easier now the weather has improved.’

  ‘And it’s the Sheep Festival soon,’ Niall said encouragingly. ‘That’s always a high point.’

  Kirsty’s eyes twinkled. ‘So I’ve heard.’ She turned to Merry. ‘The festival is when loads of volunteers arrive on the island to help repair the dyke. It lasts for two weeks and there’s a whole raft of music and entertainment that runs alongside it, to thank the volunteers for giving up their time and energy to help out.’

  ‘It’s a wonderful couple of weeks,’ Niall said, then raised his eyebrows at Merry. ‘You should think about volunteering. It might be good book research.’

  Merry laughed. ‘I’m pretty certain dry-stone walling is a highly developed skill. Any section I worked on would fall down in a gentle breeze.’

  Kirsty smiled. ‘I understand we get volunteers from all walks of life – you’d be very welcome if you wanted to join us. The more the merrier, in fact.’

  ‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me playing Jenga,’ Merry answered, laughing. ‘But I know where to come if I ever need to write a character who builds walls, though. Thanks for talking to me.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Kirsty said, her gaze warm. ‘Niall’s got my number if you need to ask anything, or you can always pop back over. And if all else fails, I’ll see you at the ceilidh.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Merry said. ‘Thank you.’

  Beside her, Niall checked his watch. ‘I suppose we’d better get going. We don’t want to keep Bobby waiting.’

  ‘You’re going up the lighthouse?’ Kirsty asked and grimaced at Merry. ‘I hope you’ve got a good head for heights.’

  ‘Don’t try to scare her,’ Niall said. ‘It’s only a hundred and seventy-six steps to the top.’

  ‘One hundred and seventy-six!’ Merry said, as her jaw dropped in dismay. ‘That’s almost as many stairs as Covent Garden tube station and they nearly killed me the last time I walked up them.’

  ‘Ah, but that was before you started running half-marathons,’ Niall replied. ‘You’ll have no bother jogging to the top here.’

  ‘One half-marathon,’ Merry corrected. ‘And I’ll have cycled three miles to get to the lighthouse.’ She gazed at Niall through narrowed eyes. ‘I’m starting to wonder if you’re actually running a writer’s boot camp instead of a residency.’

  Kirsty laughed. ‘It does sound a lot like that. Good luck, anyway!’

  They waved goodbye to Kirsty and walked back to their bikes. Niall rummaged in his rucksack and handed Merry a bottle of water. ‘I’ve got homemade flapjack, courtesy of Sheila, and fruitcake from Bridget. I don’t know why they think I need feeding up but they dropped them into the library this week and I thought they’d be good for boosting our energy today.’

  Merry smiled. Sheila often brought her baked goods too and they were always delicious. She opted for the flapjack and savoured the syrup-coated oats before climbing onto her bike once more. But they hadn’t gone more than half a mile along the road when Niall stopped again. ‘Are you up for a detour?’

  Privately, Merry was up for anything that put off the moment she’d have to tackle the stairs of the lighthouse but she didn’t say so. ‘Of course.’

  Once again, they left the bikes by the side of the road but this time, Niall led Merry across a gently sloping meadow covered in wildflowers. She took a moment to appreciate the quiet air around them, broken only by the buzz of bees and the occasional call of a bird overhead. As they neared the summit, Merry saw a solitary column of grey stone reaching towards the sky and knew it must be the reason Niall had brought her here.

  ‘Behold the Stan Stone,’ he said with a dramatic sweep of his arm. ‘Said to be the sister of the Odin Stone, originally part of the Standing Stones of Stenness.’

  Merry was used to seeing the stones at Stenness, silhouetted against the Orkney sky. This stone was lonelier but no less impressive, although there was one noticeable difference. ‘Is it supposed to have a hole in the middle?’

  Niall nodded in approval, as though she was a promising student. ‘I’m glad you asked – it gives me an excuse to bore you with yet more island history.’

  Merry laughed. ‘You’re never boring. Tell me.’

  ‘Okay, since you insist. As I said, the Stan Stone is thought to be sister to the Odin Stone, which used to be one of the Stones of Stenness although it’s no longer standing. Odin’s Stone had a hole in the centre too, and people used to think that gave it healing properties. But, more interestingly, the hole allowed them to clasp hands through the heart of the stone, and legend said that anyone who did so while swearing an oath to Odin would create a binding agreement – say, for example, a promise to be faithful to a lover or even a marriage vow.’

  ‘And what happened if they broke the oath?’ Merry asked, imagining lovestruck couples plighting their troth among the stones.

  Niall sighed. ‘I know you want me to say lightning bolts and terrible vengeance wer
e delivered by Odin himself but there’s no evidence to support it. That said, most people took it very seriously and tried not to break the oath. The community elders took a dim view of anyone who reneged on a deal made on the stone.’

  Merry studied the stone before them, with its much smaller hole. ‘You couldn’t clasp hands through this one.’

  ‘No,’ Niall agreed. ‘Although some people still believe this stone has magical powers too. It’s meant to grant wishes.’

  ‘Really?’ Merry said. ‘What do you have to do?’

  He shrugged. ‘Touch the stone and swear to honour Odin, then silently make your wish.’

  She threw him a sceptical look but his expression gave nothing away. ‘What have you got to lose?’

  It was exactly the kind of scene she might find in countless novels but Merry still felt foolish as she took a deep breath and reached out a slow fingertip towards the hole. She opened her mouth to start her oath but the moment her skin made contact with the cool stone, she felt a jolt run through her shoulders as though she’d been struck.

  ‘Raaaaah!’ Niall bellowed in her ear and then broke into helpless laughter. ‘Got you!’

  Shaken, Merry stepped back and glared at him, flexing her shoulders. ‘That wasn’t funny.’

  ‘It – was,’ he gasped, as tears appeared in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry but it was!’

  She tried to stay cross but his laughter was so contagious that Merry couldn’t help joining in. It started with a tug at the corner of her mouth, followed by a snort that finally descended into full-on belly laughter.

  ‘Sorry,’ Niall managed, placing his hands on his knees after a minute or two. ‘I couldn’t resist.’

  ‘I’m never believing anything you tell me again,’ Merry said, trying unsuccessfully to still sound annoyed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘But you looked so totally convinced. It was mean of me.’

  ‘It was,’ Merry agreed. ‘And now I’m going to put you in a book and do something horrible to you.’

  He grinned. ‘Please do. Infamy at last.’

  Merry shook her head; he looked like a little boy whose prank had exceeded even his own wildest dreams. ‘If you’ve quite finished terrifying me, didn’t you say we needed to get to the lighthouse?’

  Sobering a little, Niall checked the time. ‘Yes, we probably should. But it’s okay, the roads are flat. We’ll just have to cycle a bit harder.’

  Merry swallowed a sigh and straightened her shoulders. ‘Remind me to say no next time you turn up on my doorstep and demand I go island hopping with you.’

  ‘You’re going to love the lighthouse,’ Niall said, setting off for the road. ‘More importantly, you’re going to love Bobby, the lighthouse tour guide.’

  ‘Am I?’ She glanced back at him. ‘Are you about to spin me some story about him being descended directly from Odin himself?’

  ‘No, but he’s what you might call an interesting character,’ he said. ‘Believe me, you’re definitely going to want to put him in a book.’

  Chapter Six

  Up close, the lighthouse was even more impressive than it had been from the air. As promised, they were met at the base of the red and white tower by Bobby Murray and Merry instantly knew why Niall had been so certain she’d want to write him into a story: if someone had asked her to picture a salty seadog of a lighthouse keeper, Bobby was exactly what she would have imagined. All that was missing was a thick black pipe poking out from his bushy white beard.

  ‘Ah, if it isn’t our trusty keeper of knowledge and his esteemed writer friend,’ he said as they approached, in a voice that was richer and louder than the stillness around them warranted. ‘I hope you had a pleasant journey here?’

  ‘Very smooth, thank you,’ Niall said, allowing the older man to pump his hand with more enthusiasm than necessary. ‘Can I introduce you to Merina Wilde?’

  Bobby took Merry’s hand and shook it with the same vigour he’d used on Niall. ‘Charmed. Absolutely charmed.’

  ‘Lovely to meet you too,’ Merry said, surreptitiously wiggling her fingers to make sure they still worked. ‘Thank you for taking the time to show us around.’

  ‘It’s no trouble at all,’ Bobby insisted. ‘I’m grateful to you for coming – we don’t get as many visitors as we used to and it does me good to climb the stairs. There are quite a few, in case you didn’t know, so I hope you’ve had a decent breakfast.’

  Merry flashed a meaningful look at Niall, who smirked but said nothing.

  Bobby raised his voice a little as he slipped into what Merry assumed was his work patter. ‘This beauty is the tallest land-based lighthouse in the United Kingdom. She was built in eighteen fifty-two and stands at a hundred and thirty-nine feet, giving unrivalled views across these beautiful islands. Of course, she’s not just a pretty face.’ He nodded proudly at Merry. ‘She plays a vital role in keeping ships from foundering on the treacherous shoals beneath the sea around the island. But more of that later.’

  He waved a hand towards the door of the lighthouse and beamed at his visitors. ‘Shall we begin our ascent? It’s such a clear day that I think we might even see all the way to Fair Isle.’

  He kept up a steady stream of facts and figures all the way to the top, his voice booming off the smooth painted walls, while Merry tried to keep up and wondered how he could even talk, let alone bellow.

  ‘Are you familiar with Peppa Pig?’ Niall murmured as they climbed.

  Distracted, Merry nodded. Alex’s nieces had been big fans and Merry had watched more than a few episodes while babysitting them. She had no idea why Niall had chosen this particular moment to mention the show, however.

  ‘Do you remember which character lives in the lighthouse?’ he asked.

  And then it made sense, because Merry had a sudden flashback to an episode featuring a white-bearded rabbit with a booming voice who lived in a lighthouse. The resemblance to Bobby was striking and the thought caused Merry to snort with laughter.

  Bobby paused on the stairs above her. ‘Are you quite well?’

  Merry waved a hand. ‘Fine. Just a little cough – carry on.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Niall whispered, once Bobby had set off again.

  ‘You are behaving very badly today,’ Merry said, in a tone of mock severity. ‘What’s got into you?’

  He grinned. ‘Must be the North Ronaldsay air.’

  At the top, Bobby tactfully gave them a minute to catch their breath and went on to explain that this was the second lighthouse to be built on the island. ‘You can still visit the remains of the old beacon and a very sturdy old lady she is too.’

  Beside her, Merry felt rather than heard Niall trying not to laugh. ‘Did you say we might catch a glimpse of Fair Isle?’ she asked quickly, before she could catch the giggles too.

  Bobby beamed at her. ‘I should have known you’d be interested in distant lands. Writers and poets always are.’

  He pointed to the north, where Merry could just about make out a shape that looked a little like another island. ‘And of course, they can see the light sweeping the waves most nights,’ Bobby went on. ‘It’s a fully automated flash every ten seconds these days but back in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, they used burning oil.’

  After explaining more about how the lamp worked, Bobby gave them some time to themselves. ‘This is when most people want to take a selfie or two, as a memento of their trip,’ he said. ‘Although I’m always happy to act as photographer if you prefer?’

  Niall and Merry both shook their heads and Bobby retreated, although Merry noticed he stayed on hand, presumably because there wasn’t really anywhere for him to go, other than down the stairs, and she assumed even Bobby wasn’t enthusiastic enough to climb the spiral steps twice in the space of an hour.

  The wind was much stronger than it had been at the base and Merry found her dark hair whipping around her face as she snapped a few photos on her phone. She’d normally send one or two to Jess, she thought, and the ob
servation caused some of her good mood to drain away.

  Niall seemed to read her mind because he asked, ‘Heard from Jess lately?’

  ‘Not much,’ Merry replied, wondering whether he had any idea that they’d fallen out. ‘Why?’

  He leaned on the parapet and shrugged. ‘Just wondering. You’ve been tucked away in the croft for weeks so I haven’t had a chance to ask you whether she enjoyed her visit.’

  ‘Oh,’ Merry said and took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘Yes, I think she did.’

  Niall kept his gaze fixed on the shifting waves below them. ‘Any particular highlights?’ he asked, his tone casual.

  Frowning, she turned to study him. ‘Not that she’s mentioned. Why, do you need some official feedback?’

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ he said, and managed an awkward smile. ‘I wondered if she’d said anything, that’s all. Mentioned anyone in particular.’

  Merry felt her heart begin to thud in her chest and a horrible suspicion loomed in her mind. ‘Like who?’

  Now Niall’s expression grew even more awkward. ‘I’m not supposed to say. Forget I mentioned it.’

  Merry shook her head, trepidation building. ‘You can’t leave it like that. What’s this about?’

  He sighed and looked over his shoulder, as though checking Bobby was out of earshot. ‘It’s no big deal, I suppose. Andrew was asking after her. He took a bit of a shine to her and asked me to find out if she felt the same way.’ He paused, looking wretched. ‘And I know it’s a wee bit unprofessional but he’s my best friend, so I said I’d try to find out.’

  The relief that flooded over Merry was so strong that she had to grab hold of the railing along the parapet. ‘Andrew likes Jess?’

  Niall nodded. ‘You can’t tell her. And you can’t tell Andrew that I told you. He made me promise to be discreet.’

  She felt the corners of her mouth edge upwards into a smile. ‘Well, I think it’s safe to say you don’t have a career as a spy in your future,’ she said, still reeling from her own jumbled emotions. ‘But if I’m speaking to her any time soon, I’ll see what I can find out.’