by Ian Todd
“Anything?”
“No, just your average sales reps who’ve taken their fancy bits away for a few days behind the wife’s back,” McTavish replied.
“Ah wonder whit they’d dae if we charged intae the bar, demanding identification fae them aw while cross-checking who they’ve signed in as, eh?” The Stalker asked McTavish, as he eyed-up the wee lassie wae the Charlotte McLeod name badge oan her blouse, heiding their way.
“I’m sorry, gents, but we’re fully booked. Mr McIntosh said you could try The Strathcarron Hotel, which is just along the road.”
“Ach, never mind. Thank ye, lass,” McTavish said, as he heided ootside, followed by The Stalker.
Chapter Fifty Three
“Christ, nae wonder the Highlanders goat wiped oot, if that’s whit the English wur up against,” Paul muttered quietly tae Saba, nodding across at the accordionist.
“I must admit, he does look as if he has just stepped off a Huntley and Palmer biscuit tin lid,” she replied.
“If he bloody smiles, nods and winks at me wan mair time, Ah’m gonnae take a run and jump at him.”
“Oh, Paul, stop whining. This is Scotland…the Highlands. Try and imagine you’re on holiday. What did you think of your meal?”
“Aye, it wis awright. That’s the first time I’ve ever tasted haggis.”
“Really?”
“In fact, this is the first time I’ve ever kipped in a hotel or even hid a meal in wan, so it is.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go fur it.”
“Why do you call me The Gardener’s Daughter?”
“Ah don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me.”
“When Ah first came tae the croft, Innes and Whitey telt me a wee bit aboot the history ae the area. Wan ae the stories they telt me wis aboot the auld gardener who seemingly wanders aboot the castle in search ae his virgin daughter. Well, the first time Ah clocked ye wis when Ah wis oot fur a run oan yer auld man’s estate. Anyway, oan the way back tae the croft, Ah stoapped tae check oot a couple ae ma snares. Ah’d jist taken a couple ae rabbits oot ae them when ye appeared in yer white nighty oan that big white horse. Ah jist aboot shat masel there and then. Ah wis convinced ye wur The Gardener’s Daughter,” he said tae her laughter.
“I remember it well. The look on your face was a picture. You looked like a rabbit that had just got caught in the headlights of a car at night.”
“Ah jist aboot knocked masel oot oan a tree trying tae get away fae ye. Ah probably made it back tae the croft in hauf the time it wid normally take me.”
“So, when did you find out I wasn’t her?”
“Well, Ah hid ma doubts later oan when Ah goat back tae the croft, especially when Ah telt Innes and Whitey whit hid happened. Innes thought ye wur a holidaymaker. Whitey believed that Ah’d seen something, bit The Gardener’s Daughter? Ah think ma credibility faded a bit when Ah voiced ma doubts oot loud though.”
“And what were they?”
“Ah couldnae figure oot why the hell The Gardener’s Daughter, who wis supposed tae hiv been deid fur centuries, wis wearing a pair ae John Lennon glasses,” he said, and the pair ae them burst intae a loud fit ae giggles, tae the sound ae people shushing them tae keep the noise doon as they wanted tae hear the musical genius who wis up oan stage, gieing it big licks.
“I need to go to the rest-room.”
“Right, well, Ah’ll see ye ootside. Ah’m heiding aff tae gie Wan-eye his goody bag ae lefto’er grub that Ah goat fae that wee Charlotte wan. He’ll need a walk.”
“Fine, I’ll see you outside in a minute.”
“So, if you thought I was a ghost, that means you must believe in them then,” Saba said tae him as they sat oan the grass opposite the Inn, watching Wan-eye splash and paddle aboot in the water.
“Ah hivnae saw wan masel, bit a good pal ae mine talked tae wan,” Paul said, throwing a beach stick intae the water wae Wan-eye in hot pursuit.
“Really? Tell me about it.”
“Hiv ye seen The Gardener or that virgin daughter ae his?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“Yes, I’ve seen The Gardener a few times, although I’ve never come across his fourteen-year-old daughter. I would love to though.”
“So, tell me aboot The Gardener then?” he asked, turning roond tae face her as the sound ae ‘Donald, Where’s Yer Troosers’ came belting oot ae the bar fae the big girl’s blouse that wis supposed tae be a Highlander.
“Well, there are two aspects to it. The first one is that since I’ve been back in the strath from America, I’m sometimes wakened through the night with a pair of hands wrapped around my throat, strangling me. It’s horrible. When I attempt to free myself from the grip by grabbing the wrists of the strangler, the skin feels like old parchment paper.”
“Christ, nae wonder ye want away fae the castle.”
“We’ve got historical records going back as far my great, great, great grandmother’s time, where all the female ancestors who were brought up in the castle and their female cousins and female friends who came to stay during the year leading up to their fifteenth birthday, report the same incidents, or nightmares, down through the years.”
“And whit aboot clocking him?”
“Sorry?”
“Whit aboot seeing him in the parchment?”
“The last time I actually saw him, was on the Saturday night of the Highland games. After Morven and I got dropped off at the castle gates, we were feeling a bit tipsy. We sang all the old songs we learned at school all the way up the drive. When we arrived at the castle, it was very quiet. We had just reached the top of the staircase, above the long gallery, and had just started to walk along the corridor when I saw his shadow on the stairwell ceiling behind us, getting bigger and closer as he came running up the stairs. I screamed and grabbed Morven’s hand and screamed for her to run. The both of us just froze at first before taking off.”
“Whit did he look like?”
“It’s difficult to say as we’d been putting the lights off behind us as we were running towards the bedroom. Just before we reached the door, the both of us turned, and I swear to God, he was only about four feet behind us. He was wearing an old ragged cloak with a hood up over his head that kept his face in the shadows. He also had something in his hands that looked like an old manacled chain.”
“Whit did Morven dae?”
“She just screamed with laughter. I was terrified. We managed to get through the bedroom door before quickly slamming it shut.”
“Morven wisnae scared?” he asked, surprised and thinking that he wid’ve probably shat his pants if it hid been him.
“She said she didn’t see him?”
“Whit? Morven said she didnae clock and auld guy chasing ye, rattling a rusty auld chain in his haun?”
“Yes.”
“And you did?”
“He was as close to me as you are now.”
Chapter Fifty Four
Swein McTavish bolted upright. He looked at his wristwatch oan the cabinet at the side ae the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Three thirty five. He swung his legs oan tae the carpet and started tae put his clothes on. Wance he wis dressed, he quietly opened his bedroom door and slipped oot. He carried his boots in his haun. He didnae want tae waken the Glesgie sergeant, who he could hear snoring in the room adjacent tae his wan. He tiptoed doon the stairs and put his boots oan before opening the front door ae the hotel. It must’ve been raining earlier as the road wis scattered wae puddles oan it, while the air hid that fresh smell that ye get efter a doonpour. He looked across the Loch. Although it wis the middle ae the night, it wis still light enough fur him tae see the reflection ae the boat hooked oan tae the Landy, oan the surface ae the Loch alang wae the twinkling ae the ootside lights ae the Inn. He made his way tae the car park at the side ae the hotel. He wis grateful that the Sarge hid telt him tae park the polis vehicle oot ae sight ae the road, jist in case Paul arrived and booked intae the
same hotel as them. It meant the Sarge widnae hear the engine when he started it up. It only took him a few minutes tae reach The Lochcarron Inn. He drove past slowly, looking for any signs ae life fae the Inn, while hivving a good swatch at the Landy and The Dignity sitting oan the trailer. He turned roond at the far end ae the village and heided back. He passed the boat and parked further doon the road oan the left, oan the ootskirts ae the village, jist beyond the garage. He grabbed his torch as he goat oot and quickly walked back intae the village, keeping tae the same side ae the road as the Inn. He could see the lights and the reflection ae The Strathcarron Hotel across the water. When he goat tae the entrance tae the hotel, he gently tried the door haundle, bit found it locked. He looked up and doon the road before casually strolling across and ducking doon behind the boat, oot ae view ae the bedroom windaes that wur facing oan tae the loch. He touched the side ae the hull wae his fingertips. He shook his heid in disbelief.
“Innes, Innes, what are you up to, you old fool,” he cursed softly, touching the part ae the hull that he himsel hid helped paint three months earlier.
He could make oot a small square patch ae a vertical brush stroke that he hidnae laid aff properly that Innes hid pointed oot tae him. He crept towards the back ae the Landy, bent doon and shone the torch across the gap. He wis surprised that the big-shot sergeant fae Glesgie hidnae picked up oan the auld scuffed and dirty nineteen sixty two number plate oan the nineteen sixty eight Landy. He knew he didnae need tae look at the numbers oan the plate tae know they belonged tae Innes. The presence ae The Dignity spoke fur itsel. He’d sat many times behind this number plate, following Innes up the road tae make sure he goat hame safely when he wis as drunk as an auld stoat. McTavish’s mind wis turning o’er like a propeller. He peered roond the bow ae the boat towards the Inn, before creeping across the gap tae the back ae the Landy and looked in through the back windae. He wis jist lifting up the torch tae shine it through the glass when he jist aboot shat his pants. The last thing he’d expected tae come across wis a snarling, barking collie dug wae wan eye, trying tae bite the face aff ae him.
“Oh shit, the pup!” he yelped, before running fur the pavement oan the other side ae the road.
He’d goat such a fright, that he hidnae realised he’d drapped the torch until he wis staunin wae his back against the door ae the Inn, praying that nowan hid wakened in the bedrooms above him. He hesitated fur a second or two before running back across the road. He bent o’er the trailer hook-up and grabbed the torch, before walking quickly back alang the road towards his parked polis Landy.
Chapter Fifty Five
Paul wis finding it difficult tae sleep, given the news that Saba hid shared wae him earlier. He’d dozed aff every noo and again bit hid been wakening up at the slightest wee creak ae a flair board or the sound ae wan ae the other people in the rooms alang the corridor trotting tae the cludgie opposite them. It didnae help that his heid wis spinning. He’d never been in a bed oan his ain wae a lassie and certainly no wan that smelled and looked as good as Saba. When they’d come upstairs, he’d felt a wee bit awkward, which she’d picked up oan straight away.
“It’s okay, Paul, I’m not going to eat you,” she’d tittered, efter coming back fae changing intae her fancy pyjamas and slipping under the blankets.
She’d gone intae hysterics when he’d come back fae the cleaner’s cupboard wae a selection ae empty Vim and Ajax toilet cleaner tins.
“What are you doing?” she’d demanded, being ignored.
Paul hid grabbed Saba’s clothes aff the only chair in the room and hid slung them oan tae the flair at her side ae the bed. He’d placed the back ae the chair under the door haundle. He’d then carefully stacked the tins oan tap ae each other and stood back, admiring his handiwork.
“What’s that?”
“It’s ma alarm system.”
“For what?”
“Uninvited guests,” he’d replied.
“Oh my God, Paul, I don’t believe this. I wish I had a camera,” she’d scoffed, through hysterical giggles.
“Aye, well, ye may laugh, bit believe you me, this cheeky wee thing his goat me oot ae many tricky situations in the past, so it his,” he’d telt her, as she started kicking her heels intae the mattress and covering her mooth wae her hauns tae suppress her hysterics.
“Whit?”
“Oh, Paul, I wish I could take you back to New York with me. Honestly, you would be an overnight star…you really would,” she’d squealed, peering across at the alarm system before covering her face wae the pillow at his side ae the bed.
Efter Saba hid settled doon, she’d switched oan her tranny tae the voice ae Tony Prince introducing Blackberry Way oan Radio Luxembourg. Paul hid goat up and switched aff the light before joining her oan the bed listening tae the music.
“Ah heard that the only lassies that clocked The Gardener wur virgins,” he’d said.
“Who told you that?”
“A few people.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“And if The Gardener wis running behind you and Morven alang that corridor and it wis only you that clocked him, that obviously means Morven isnae a virgin.”
Silence.
“Does that bother you?”
“Me? Naw.”
“So, why are you bringing it up then?”
“Ah’m jist saying. It makes sense noo, seeing as she seems tae be the only fourteen-year-auld lassie that works up in the castle. Everywan in the strath must know whit the score is in that department.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re back to talking in riddles again. What makes sense?”
“That the reason she’s no scared ae working up at the castle and walking aboot they dark corridors aw oan her lonesome, is because there’s nae chance ae her coming across him. She’d be as well tae walk aboot wae a label roond her neck.”
“Paul, what Morven does is her business,” Saba said, sitting up oan wan elbow. “I don’t know what she does or doesn’t get up to. That’s her business. If you’re not bothered, then why are you bringing it up?”
“I’m jist a bit surprised, that’s aw.”
“Change the subject.”
“Fine, Ah don’t gie a fuck anyway. Ah’ll no be heiding back tae stay in the strath, so Ah won’t be walking aboot wae her,” he’d said, as the sound ae The Stones, belting oot ‘Honky Tonk Wummin’ filled the room.
“What’s that supposed to mean…you’re not going to be walking about with her?”
“Whit Ah’ve jist said.”
“I heard what you said and I can’t believe that I did.”
“Okay, keep yer knickers oan and the noise doon.”
“Are you trying to tell me that because you don’t think Morven is a virgin, you wouldn’t want to be seen walking down the street with her?” she’d hissed at him in a high-pitched whisper.
“Ah never said that.”
“You’re something else, Paul McBride. I thought you were her friend. Where is the respect there?”
“Listen, I wis lucky tae get a bloody kiss aff ae her as a starter, even though some local basturt’s been there awready and goat served up a three course meal.”
Silence.
“Honestly, Paul, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Aye, well, you clearly know mair than Ah dae…or should that be, everywan dis bit me.”
“It not like that.”
“Ah thought ye didnae know?”
“Oh, Paul, shut up. You men are such bores. Why are you getting hung-up about things you know absolutely nothing about?”
“Ah wonder where we’ll be in the year twenty five twenty five?” Paul hid asked her, staring at the ceiling in the dark, as Zager and Evans moaned aboot everywan being goosed unless they pulled their socks up by the year twenty five twenty five.
“It’s not what you think,” Saba said.
“Christ, Ah’ll be seventy wan, if Ah’m still kicking aboot.”
“I only found ou
t about it after I made Morven tell me.”
“Nah, Ah’ll definitely be pan-breid, pushing up the pish-the-beds in some overgrown cemetery.”
“I couldn’t believe it at first, but I know she wouldn’t lie or make it up.”
“Wan thing Ah don’t want tae be, is planted in wan ae they wee bloody barren cemeteries wae a wall roond it.”
“The both of us just hugged and cried for about two hours after she told me.”
“Naw, if Ah could arrange fur Tony, Joe and Johnboy tae siphon some petrol oot ae somewan’s petrol tank and get them tae douse me and set me oan fire up at the canal, that wid dae me fine.”
“And we’ve never spoken about it since.”
“Although if Ah hid grandweans by that time, they’d probably hiv something tae say aboot it.”
“My father said something strange to me the other night, so you could be right. I suspect other people know about it, but I haven’t mentioned it to anyone.”
“Whitever happens, Catholic or no, Ah don’t want tae be planted.”
“And to think she has to face that beast, George, every day…the poor thing,” Saba hid said, as ‘The Boxer’ filled the room.
“Whit? Whit did ye jist say aboot George Sellar?”
“I was telling you about him raping Morven on the night of her fourteenth birthday party. Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said?”
“Eh?” Paul hid gasped, sitting up abruptly.
Paul hid felt like throwing up. He’d wanted tae jump up and run oot ae the room. His heid hid began spinning.
“Are you alright, Paul? I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have told you. I promised Morven that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Tell me again whit ye said, bit start fae the beginning.
Saba explained whit Morven hid telt her efter they’d been chased by The Gardener oan the night ae the Highland games. There hid been a fourteenth birthday disco held fur Morven in the stable block. George and Cameron hid decked the place oot wae straw bales and Terry Buck fae Ardgay hid agreed tae dae the deejaying fur the evening. The Duke hid agreed fur the kitchen tae provide the sandwiches and cakes. Aw the adults and the young crowd fae Culrain and Ardgay hid turned up and it hid been a smashing night aw roond. At the end ae the evening, Morven’s ma hid agreed fur her tae stay a while longer tae tidy the place up efter aw her pals hid heided hame. George hid even telt her ma no tae worry as he’d see that she goat hame safe. George and Cameron hid stayed behind tae help her. Wance everywan hid left, Cameron hid shot the craw, leaving George and Morven oan their ain. George hid made his move and Morven hid pushed him away. George hid then skelped her and pushed her doon oan tae the wee stage that hid been used tae staun the disco oan. She’d tried tae get him tae stoap whit he wis daeing, bit the basturt hid hit her again, and this time, she thought that he must’ve knocked her unconscious. When she’d opened her eyes, he’d awready ripped her pants aff and wis hivving sex wae her oan the bare flairboards ae the stage. Aw ae a sudden, he’d jist stood up, pulled up his pants and troosers, looked doon at her and telt her he hid tae go. She’d sat there until the dawn hid started tae appear and then hid managed tae walk hame and sneak intae the hoose and intae her bed before her parents woke up. Luckily fur her, he hidnae marked her face when he’d belted her. It hid been an anxious time fur her, waiting tae see if her period came, which, fortunately, it hid. George hidnae spoken tae her fur a couple ae weeks efter, although they couldnae avoid each other, especially in the kitchen. Then, aw ae a sudden, he’d started tae talk tae her again, as if nothing hid happened. He’d even hid the cheek tae ask her if she wanted tae go tae a dance wae him doon in Golspie wan weekend…an offer she’d swiftly knocked back. And that hid been that. She always tried tae be nice tae him, bit avoided being anywhere oan her lonesome when he wis aboot.
