A Rhanna Mystery

by Christine Marion Fraser

  ‘Ah, my lovely Sea Witch, she went down very quickly. There was no way we could even take to the dinghy. It wasn’t a rough sea but there was a big swell and the tide carried us right into An Coire. It must have been then that I lost the things from my belt but there was no time to think of anything in those Godforsaken moments. Johnny was badly hurt, I had to hold onto him, and somehow we made it to a safe place high up in the cave.

  ‘There we had to stay for a long time, Johnny drifting in and out of consciousness. I knew I had to get help for him, and as soon as I could I left the cave and made my way over the narrow strip of stony shore towards the village. I was very tired and it took a long time but I knew where I was going. When I was a child, travelling around with the other gypsies, we used to have our summer camps on Rhanna and so I had a good idea where Doctor Lachlan lived. It was to his house I was heading that night but I couldn’t make it. I was cold and wet and exhausted and I crept into the nearest barn, meaning to rest for a while. Well, of course, I banged my head on a beam, you found me next morning, Fergus, and for the next two days or so I was laid up, worrying about Johnny and wondering what was happening to him.

  ‘On the second night, when the household was asleep, I got up and went back to the cave to find Johnny dead. He had been delirious when I left him and he had either fallen off the ledge or had somehow gotten down to look for me. I knew I had to hide him, so I waited till the next high tide and – God knows how – I got both of us back up onto that ledge and that was where I had to leave him. It was the worst thing I ever had to do in my life, Johnny was all I had, I loved him but I was always afraid of him. After I got over the shock of him dying I felt a strange sense of relief that it was over. I only had one thing in mind, to make a new life for myself, but I could do nothing without documents or money.’

  At that point she gazed directly at Fergus, her dark eyes piercing into his as she went on, ‘I had no other option but to try and stay here for as long as I could. I needed a chance to find my papers and also to make some money to start me off. Men have always liked me, my looks were the only assets I ever had, and so I used them to try and win you over, Fergus. It was wrong of me but I was desperate and then Kirsteen came home and I no longer had to rely on your hospitality, she made it easy for me to stay here. The rest of the islanders began to accept me, and I grew to love this place.

  ‘In the beginning I used to meet Dodie and Canty Tam on my travels and they told me all about the myths and legends surrounding Rhanna. That was when I got the idea of using the stories to keep people away from An Coire. I was terrified Johnny’s body would be found and I went to the Bay of the Caves as often as I could to search for my things. I was always good in the water, like a little fish Johnny would say. He taught me how to dive and swim underwater, and I did a lot of that in the bay, always hoping I would find the lost wallets.’

  She smiled ruefully. ‘I didn’t bargain for beings like Dodie. All along he held the answer to my prayers and even yet he holds the last key. Tomorrow morning early he is coming with me to the Bay of the Caves where, I hope, he will reveal his final little secrets to me. After that, if all goes well, I will be leaving Rhanna, never to return. With any luck I should be on the other side of the world when all this comes out. As yet, no one suspects anything amiss. When the travellers left here recently I gave Stink a letter to post for me when he got back to Ireland. It was to the people that Johnny and me worked to, assuring them that all was well in their absence.’

  ‘You have certainly thought of everything,’ Kirsteen, her voice tight and strange, her blue eyes cold, looked long and hard at the girl she had befriended and trusted for the last few months.

  At her words, Fern’s golden-skinned face took on a deeper flush. ‘Mavourneen, I know you are thinking that I must be a calculating little schemer to have done all this. That isn’t the way of it at all, I was weak, I just went along with Johnny in everything he did. Now, if I am to survive, I have to make the best of the consequences. I can’t face the thought of imprisonment, I would rather die than have that happen to me. I’m a gypsy, Kirsteen, my dearest friend, it’s in my nature to roam free. Please, ah, please, try to understand that. I will never forget you or Fergus, my memories will be of you and your family, especially your darling little grandchildren, Lorna and Ellie Dawn.’

  Kirsteen didn’t answer. Getting up she left the room without another word, leaving Fergus to shift uncomfortably in his seat as an awkward silence descended over the room. There were a million questions he wanted to ask, a thousand things he felt he had to say, but all of them went unspoken.

  His heart was beating strangely, the night had revealed its secrets too well, everything had happened too quickly, and as well as all else he could hardly absorb the fact that after tomorrow he would never see this young girl again. The thought was oddly disturbing and he didn’t know how to handle it, let alone try to make sense of it all.

  It was Fern who finally broke the spell of unease in the room. ‘Fergus,’ she murmured, her voice husky and compelling, ‘I want you to know that you will always hold a special place in my heart. No matter where I go, no matter how far I may travel, I will never forget you, for as long as I live. Surely to goodness you must know the effect you have on me, so strong a man, so tender under all that toughness. If I hadn’t grown to love Kirsteen so much I wouldn’t have let go of you, and that is an honest fact, may God forgive me for my sins.’

  He couldn’t bear it any longer. Getting up he went over to her and stood looking down at her for a very long time. Briefly he touched the petal soft skin of her face, his hand lingering on the burnished tresses of her hair.

  Then abruptly he turned on his heel and left her there, alone by the fire, her eyes big and burning in a face that had gone sad and quiet and somehow very lost, like a child who had strayed from the path and was unsure suddenly of which way to turn.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dodie was waiting at Mara Òran Bay, a thin, bent figure, his face grey in the searching light of morning but brightening up when Fern appeared, running towards him, carrying a small travelling bag over her shoulder, her hair caught up and tied in a red ribbon.

  ‘Look, Dodie,’ she said as soon as she was near enough, ‘I’ve brought you the photo I promised, it isn’t really all that good but at least in this one I’m smiling, not like that other one with my face all dour and sad.’

  She was right, she was smiling, a lovely, happy radiant expression, the summer sun lighting her hair, catching the sunburned glow on her skin.

  ‘Lovely photy,’ Dodie touched it with one big rough finger, immediately forgetting the other one in his fascinated preoccupation with this new image which, in his opinion, was much, much better, more like the Kalak Dubh he had come to know and admire with such steadfast devotion.

  Fern watched him and bit her lip. ‘I’ve got your stone in my bag, Dodie,’ she said softly, ‘the one you painted with my name on it. I’m going to carry it with me always and think of you whenever I look at it.’

  Crimson stained his cheeks. ‘Ay,’ was all he said as he stared at her, a vision of fresh and youthful beauty against the backdrop of the silvery sea.

  ‘Come on.’ She took his hand and led him over to the little boat rocking gently in the shallows. ‘Help me to push her out and don’t be worrying yourself now, I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I mean it. Just remember – Kalak Dubh will be beside you all the time – the sea doesn’t scare me, I’ve always been at home in the water and today I feel as if it all belongs to me.’ She glanced around her, at the great expanse of the ocean, the tiny, far-flung islands, the seabirds gliding in the vast dome of the sky, and she laughed, a bubbly excited laugh that seemed to find its echo in the chuckling wavelets slapping playfully against the sides of the boat.

  Dodie swallowed hard. ‘Kalak Dubh,’ he whispered, a terrible ache inside his chest for this young girl who seemed so pleased to be leaving the earth, and all it meant, far behind
her.

  Sitting there in the bow, guiding the little craft over the waves, the rising sun spilling its golden rays over her, a catchy tune in her throat, she seemed the epitome of all things mortal and wonderful, and Dodie found it very hard to believe that she wasn’t really of the world, that she was glad because she was returning to the element that she knew best. The sea, the endless sea, waiting to take her back into its vast bosom, calling to her in a voice that only a fabulous creature like her would understand.

  A fabulous creature! A mermaid! A real, live, mermaid, and he alone had the privilege of going with her to collect the shiny things she needed for her last, long, journey.

  Dodie was so busy grappling with his thoughts he forgot all about Canty Tam’s gloomy warnings concerning the Uisge Hags and other such fearsome beings, and almost before he knew it they were rounding the cliffs and heading into Camus nan Uamh where all was calm and peaceful in the silence of the September morning.

  ‘Where is it, Dodie?’ Fern asked in a breathless voice. ‘The pot – the lobster pot with my things inside?’

  Dodie couldn’t stop trembling as he guided her over to where the marker buoys were bobbing in the water. He wanted very badly to please Kalak Dubh, knew he had to try and stay calm and do everything he could to help her, but the enormity of events was almost too much for him.

  ‘Och, come on now, Dodie, you can do it, I know you can do it.’ She spoke encouragingly when she saw how shaken he was. ‘Just give me a hand to pull up the pots and before you know where you are it will all be over.’

  To Dodie, her words had a dreadful ring of finality, and he remained where he was, frozen to the spot, till she said soothingly, ‘Ah, it is a lot I ask of you and you not long risen from your sick bed, poor, gentle, lovely man. But just think Dodie, of all the people on the island of Rhanna, you are the only one who can help to set me free. It is the last thing I will ever ask of you so if you care at all for Kalak Dubh you won’t be hesitating any more.’

  Her words had the desired effect. Dodie stirred from his seat, then he leaned over the side of the boat, his stomach churning at the sight of the green water so near his face, his imagination carrying him down, down, beneath the waves, silken, cold, terrifying . . .

  Then he felt Fern’s hand on his arm, reassuring, comforting. He began pulling up the pots and it wasn’t long before he was handing her the knobbly little drawstring bag with all her belongings inside.

  She took it, her face a picture of delight, her own hands beginning to tremble as she undid the string and peeped inside. ‘At last,’ she whispered, ‘at last, I’m free to go.’

  Dodie released a great sigh. He glanced towards the Bay of the Caves, and suddenly he detected a movement near the shore. A boat was tied up there, half hidden among the rocks, one of Ranald McTavish’s boats, and out from the great cavern of An Coire came several men, carrying between them a blanket-wrapped bundle.

  Fern was so engrossed with the contents of the little canvas bag that she failed to notice anything unusual, and Dodie was so mesmerised by the movements in the bay he was unable to utter one single word.

  The men were getting into the boat, gingerly manhandling the bundle aboard, and that was when Fern looked up, her face growing ashen as she stared at the scene in horror.

  ‘Johnny,’ she breathed, ‘oh, Johnny, they’ve found you, after all this time, they’ve found you.’

  The sound of an engine split the silence as the boat nosed its way out from the rocks, to rapidly approach the deeper waters of the bay. Ranald was at the helm, Peter Menzies was there too, together with Colin Mor and Grampa Angus. The police had commandeered both the boat and the men for the journey to Camus nan Uamh, leaving their less manoeuvrable launch tied up in Portcull Harbour.

  Fern started to her feet, still clutching the bag with the jewels inside. She was trapped, out here, on the ocean. There was nowhere she could run to, not now, now that Johnny’s body had been found. It was over. The island that had given her sanctuary was now her prison. No need anymore to flee to a strange new country. This was where it had to end, here in the cold waters of the Atlantic deep.

  For a few brief moments she gazed at the sky where the gulls were wheeling and dipping; she glanced above the cliffs to the green sward where the sheep and the cows were peacefully grazing; then she crossed herself and jumped overboard.

  Dodie clung to his seat and watched in horrified wonderment as she slipped beneath the waves.

  ‘Goodbye, Kalak Dubh,’ he murmured brokenly. ‘I’ll keep your photy beside me always.’

  But Kalak Dubh wasn’t gone yet. She emerged some distance away, her dark head bobbing above the silken gleam of the waves, directly in line with the fast approaching boat. There came a shout from the men on board, but there was nothing they could do, no action they could take to avoid hitting the girl in the water.

  She went under, the bright red ribbon in her hair lingering momentarily on the surface, then it too was gone, leaving only a swirl of crimson foam as the sea took her and swallowed her up.

  The boat’s engine throttled back, and everyone began calling Fern’s name. There came a splash as Peter Menzies dived overboard; time and again he swam underwater. Then he came up, bearing Fern’s body in his strong arms.

  Many hands helped him back into the boat. There was a hushed silence as Fern’s body was laid carefully on deck, everyone crowded round, those islanders that were present automatically removing their hats as the C.I.D. men knelt to examine her.

  ‘We’d better get Dodie,’ Grampa Angus suggested quietly. ‘He’ll be frightened out there alone and won’t know what’s happening.’

  He was right, Dodie didn’t know. As soon as he was aboard the bigger boat he collapsed onto the deck beside Fern to cover his face with his hands and sob out in muffled tones, ‘You should have left her, she’ll die if you don’t allow her to go home, Kalak Dubh will die.’

  ‘She’s already dead, Dodie,’ Colin Mor said sympathetically, and patted the old man on his stooped and shaking shoulders.

  ‘Why did she do it?’ Peter Menzies queried in amazement, his bronzed features a study of stunned dismay.

  ‘She was going back, back to the sea.’ Helplessly Dodie shook his head as it began to dawn on him that it was all over, that it was too late for Kalak Dubh to do the things that she had planned. The beautiful mermaid was dead, and nothing that anyone did could bring her to life again. He gazed at her face; it was blue and still, never again would she sing her songs to the fishermen who wandered the oceans, never again would she smile with the joy of living, her eyes crinkling as she looked around in delight at the world she had loved for the short time she had been part of it. Then he saw the little drawstring bag clutched tightly in her slender fingers, and with the tears running down his face he gently extracted it and in one swift movement he tossed it into the sea where he knew it rightly belonged. Other mermaids might find the shiny things and wear them and in that way Kalak Dubh would be remembered as he knew she deserved to be.

  ‘Hey! What was that you threw away?’ Clodhopper glared suspiciously at Dodie, who didn’t answer but turned away, not deigning to explain his actions to a mere policeman who could never possibly understand anything about the mystical things that went on in the magical lands beneath the waves.

  The presence of the police launch in Portcull Harbour had created a great stir of interest among locals and tourists alike, and small groups of sightseers had gathered at the pier to await further developments.

  When Ranald’s boat was spotted a murmur ran through the gathering; when it tied up and the police came up the steps, bearing the bodies of Fern and Johnny, a ripple of consternation could be audibly heard.

  ‘Come on, make way, everybody!’ ordered Clodhopper authoritatively. ‘Go back to your homes. You will only get in the way hanging around here.’

  But no one had any intention of going home; instead they retreated a short distance and thereafter stood watching the activity in a
shocked silence, occasionally murmuring quietly to one another as they wondered what was going on.

  Then Fergus came bursting onto the scene, making straight for Clodhopper to demand to know what was happening.

  ‘Get him out of here,’ said one of the C.I.D. men sourly, ‘This isn’t a bloody peepshow. We’re the ones who’ll be asking the questions later.’ But he didn’t reckon with those islanders who had been on the spot when Fern had died. In a short while the news went round and this time Fergus wasted no time in preliminaries.

  ‘What have you done wi’ her?’ he cried, his black eyes snapping in his suddenly white face. ‘Tell me this minute or I’ll knock the buggering daylights out o’ you!’

  ‘Now, now, McKenzie, no need for that kind o’ talk,’ Clodhopper said warningly, taking a firm hold of Fergus’s arm. ‘This is none o’ your business, just be on your way at once and no more interfering in matters that don’t concern you.’

  Fergus shook off the policeman’s restraining hand. ‘None o’ my business!’ he roared. ‘I’ll show you what is my bloody business!’

  He let fly at Clodhopper but he was too late, a snarling Heinz got there first, and knocking the P.C. to the ground he stood over him, fangs slavering, the rumbles in his throat deepening to fearsome growls that made Clodhopper cringe back, his hand over his face to protect himself.

  ‘Get off, you brute!’ One of the other policemen grabbed Heinz by the scruff of his neck to toss him out of the way and the dog landed on the stone flags of the quayside where he lay still, whimpering and crying in pain.