Anne Douglas

by The Wardens Daughters

  But when she’d first told him she was to go hill walking with Paul, it had mattered. His light blue eyes had flickered, and a coldness she had never seen in him before had descended on him, like a covering of frost.

  ‘So, you meant it, then?’ he asked. ‘You agreed to go out with him, you meant never to see me again?’

  She had stared at him, perplexed. ‘You’ve never minded about me seeing Paul before, why now?’

  ‘I’m saying that to agree to seeing him on Saturday shows you meant to give me up. That is something of a shock.’

  ‘But why, Torquil? You know I was upset. I did think I would give you up, just for a little while. But if you want me to, I’ll ask Paul if we can fix another time. He won’t mind, it will be no trouble.’

  ‘You’d do that?’

  He seemed to be softening – unfreezing, almost – before her eyes, and as she felt a great rush of relief, she knew that she had been for a moment or two very anxious.

  ‘Ah, well, that’s good. It was just a mistake, to fix up to see Mr Soutar on a Saturday. You never meant to give me up.’ He drew her into his arms at her father’s door, where he had come on Tuesday, just as usual, with his fish. ‘Let’s just forget all this and say we’ll meet on Sunday. How would that do?’

  ‘That would be wonderful, Torquil.’

  But as she clattered downstairs and sought out her walking boots from the lobby, Monnie was feeling too guilty to be happy. She should never have offered to change her day for seeing Paul; that had been wrong and only done to placate Torquil, who should not have needed placating, anyway. If only she had been as strong when she was with him, as she felt now! As clear-sighted and firm to do what was right! But if she had managed to put on a show of strength when he had so much upset her, she was very unsure that she could ever do it again.

  ‘Everyone’s away to the hills,’ Frank said, coming out of his office. ‘And they’ve a grand day, eh? You, too. When’s Paul coming?’

  ‘About eleven. I’ve just got time to run down and buy the cake Lynette wants for tomorrow.’

  As her father gave her a quick glance, she knew he wanted to say something about Torquil, but thinking of something to deflect him, she asked quickly if maybe he’d like to go for the cake instead.

  ‘Just while I’m still here, getting ready, Dad, in case anybody wants to book in.’

  ‘Go to the shop?’ His face brightened. ‘Aye, I’ll nip down now. It’s for Ronan, eh? What sort shall I get?’

  ‘Oh, leave it to Ishbel. She’ll give you something nice.’

  ‘Be back in a tick, then.’

  Away went Frank, beaming like a child running out for sweeties, while Monnie concentrated on giving her new boots another protective rubbing and looking out for Paul. When he came, a little early, she was ready with her anorak over her arm, her boots firmly laced, and her small rucksack on her back.

  ‘Paul! Lovely to see you. I’ve just got to wait for Dad, though. He should be back from the shop any minute.’

  ‘Here he comes now!’ cried Paul, waving. ‘Nice to see you, Mr Forester. Aren’t we lucky with the weather?’

  ‘Och, I’m out of breath,’ Frank gasped. ‘Sorry, I’m late, Monnie, we got to talking, Ishbel and I.’

  ‘Did you?’ Monnie raised her eyebrows. ‘Now, why am I not surprised? What sort of cake did you get, then?’

  ‘One of Ishbel’s best – the coffee and walnut.’ Frank reverently placed a cardboard box on his reception counter. ‘Well, you two’d better get off, eh? Have a good climb then. And Paul, the name is Frank, OK?’

  ‘OK.’ Paul, grinning, took Monnie’s arm. ‘And Frank, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.’

  ‘I won’t worry,’ Frank said simply. ‘I know you will.’

  Forty-Four

  Though she knew she had no need to feel nervous over hill walking, Monnie couldn’t help worrying in case she somehow let Paul down. He was so kind, so anxious for her to enjoy the thing that meant so much to him, it had become very important to her to acquit herself well. But supposing she didn’t? Found it all too much, couldn’t keep up? He wouldn’t blame her, of course, but she knew she would feel so bad about it.

  In the event, he said she was a natural. The perfect walker to be his first pupil. How had it happened? More by good luck than good management, she’d told him, but he said not at all. She had the right build, the right strength and fitness, and with training, he could see her becoming a very accomplished Munro bagger.

  All of these complimentary remarks came at the summit. To begin with, there’d been the easy start, which had involved driving to the little place he knew, no more than a hut, really, on a minor road out of Glenelg, where they could get coffee and rolls and delicious sticky buns.

  ‘Carbohydrates – good for energy,’ Paul remarked. ‘Like chocolate – but I’ve got plenty of that in my rucksack.’

  He had been watching her, she’d noticed, while they ate, and now he said quietly, ‘It’s good to see you looking so well, Monnie.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I was worried about you the other day. You don’t mind if I say that?’

  ‘I didn’t think you would mention it.’

  ‘We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends can say if they’re worried.’

  ‘You’ve no need to worry about me.’

  ‘No, that seems true today.’ He lightly touched her hand. ‘And you needn’t tell me anything unless you want to, I’m not asking that. But if you did want to talk, it sometimes helps, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Maybe later.’ She raised her eyes to his and tried to laugh. ‘Just now, I’m worrying about that hill we have to climb.’

  ‘No, no, we walk it.’ Paul laughed too and stood up. ‘Better make use of the little comfort station at the back. First lesson in hill walking – don’t be worrying about the loo.’

  They had left the little catering outpost to cries of ‘Good luck!’ from the elderly owner and a couple of walkers still having lunch, and taken an overgrown track leading, some miles on, to a tiny loch.

  ‘Don’t ask me to say its name,’ Paul told Monnie, halting to take off his waterproof jacket, for the day had become very warm. ‘It’s Gaelic, of course, like the name of the hill we’re aiming for – and that’s hard to say, too. Really think I’ll have to take a few language lessons before I open my school.’

  ‘Found a property yet?’ Monnie asked, who was already stuffing her own jacket into her rucksack.

  ‘Not yet. One or two possibilities. What do you think of the view? You can look over to a couple of hills from here, one being ours.’

  ‘The colours are beautiful.’ Monnie, shading her eyes with her hand, gazed at the amazing blue of the little stretch of water, and in the distance the vivid greens and browns of the hills Paul was pointing out. ‘Don’t seem so high, though, do they? Not like that hill near Arnisdale.’

  ‘High enough, I think you’ll find, once we get going to ours. It’s not altogether easy terrain.’

  ‘Now you tell me!’ cried Monnie.

  Some two hours later, having made their way up and over rough, muddy country, rising much higher than Monnie could have ever imagined from her distant view, they reached what Paul described as the summit.

  ‘The summit?’ Monnie gasped. ‘Seems . . . seems more like a plateau.’

  ‘Ideal for resting, then.’ Paul grinned. ‘Come on, let’s sit down – it’s fairly dry – and have some chocolate. Water first, though. We need it.’

  They both drank long and thirstily from their water bottles, then ate Paul’s melting chocolate, until they felt their batteries pleasantly recharged and lay back to rest.

  ‘This is so nice,’ Monnie murmured, enjoying the sun on her face and bare arms. ‘I suppose I’ve been lucky. How often is the weather like this?’

  ‘Very rarely. Usually, there are strong winds, rain, mist, snow showers – all good fun.’

  Monnie smiled, too, and was silent for a while.
Suddenly, she sat up. ‘Paul, you know something?’

  ‘What?’

  She hesitated. ‘I think I would like to tell you what happened between Torquil and me. You know something did, I suppose?’

  ‘I’d guessed,’ he answered quietly.

  ‘Yes, well, it’s true you’re a friend and I don’t want secrets from you. Not that it was all that terrible – in fact, I maybe made too much of it, I don’t know.’

  Paul, chewing a piece of grass, said nothing, though she could sense the intensity of his interest, and hurried on to tell her story, wanting to get it over with, and know his reaction.

  Again, in its retelling, she felt she’d magnified her ordeal. After all, what had happened? She’d been left alone on an island, she’d heard Torquil’s boat leaving, she was cold and frightened and thought all sorts of hysterical things. Was that all it was? A thoughtless action from him, the wrong reaction from her?

  ‘That’s what happened,’ she finished slowly. ‘Do you think I was in the wrong? Blaming him? He never meant me any harm.’

  Paul, his gaze on Monnie steady and considering, threw aside his blade of grass. ‘You weren’t blaming him because he meant to do you harm, Monnie. You were blaming him because he hadn’t thought about you. Isn’t that it?’

  She took a cotton sun hat from her backpack and pulled it down over her brow before she answered. ‘Yes, that was it. It seemed an age to me that he’d been gone, because of the mist and the loneliness. Then, when I heard the engine of the boat, I – I suppose I panicked. I really did think he’d left me.’

  ‘He hadn’t told you what he was doing. In the circumstances, you were right to wonder what the hell was going on.’ Paul reached over and took her hand. ‘I don’t blame you at all for reacting the way you did. And when he came back to you, I’m not surprised you wanted to finish with him.’

  ‘But I haven’t finished with him,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Paul, I can’t.’

  He took his hand from hers and looked away from her, back to the views. ‘You’re in love,’ he said at last. ‘That’s what being in love means, I suppose. You accept, you forgive. If you can say goodbye, maybe you’re not in love after all.’

  ‘I did try, to say goodbye, because I thought Torquil didn’t care for me. But then he came to the hostel – and there was nothing I could do.’

  ‘He cares for you, after all?’

  ‘He seemed to want to see me again, and I couldn’t say no. That’s the way it is, when I’m with him.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t see myself saying goodbye to him again.’

  ‘Monnie, what are you saying?’ Paul suddenly leaped to his feet and pulled her up with him. ‘He has a hold over you? You can’t think for yourself when you’re with him? That’s not just being in love – that’s obsession. And is Torquil right for you, anyway? He’s handsome, he has surface charm, but what’s underneath?’

  Just for a moment, Paul held her close. ‘I’m worried about you, feeling for him as you do,’ he whispered, letting her go. ‘Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but has he ever said he wants marriage?’

  ‘No, but I’m sure it’s in both our minds. Something to think about for the future. There’s no need to be worried, anyway. Honestly, there isn’t.’ She put her hand to his cheek. ‘I think maybe I’ve given the wrong impression. Torquil told me himself, he’s not like Tony, and I’m not going to end up like Tony’s girlfriend who had to leave the village.’

  ‘You’re under his spell, Monnie. You said yourself, you can’t think straight when you’re with him.’

  She pulled off her hat and ran her hands through her dark hair. ‘I’m all right, Paul. I can’t say more. Shall we go back now?’

  ‘Yes, we’ll go back,’ he said heavily. ‘Better make sure we’ve left no litter. Chocolate paper, and such.’

  ‘All in the rucksack.’ She slung it on to her back and replaced her sun hat. ‘Sorry if I spoiled things, talking about myself. You did say you would listen.’

  ‘I always listen.’ He swung up his own rucksack and took a deep breath. ‘But if I got a bit carried away, let’s forget about it, OK? We mustn’t spoil things between us, because we’ve a lot of hill walks ahead of us. You’re a natural, you know. The way you’ve kept up today, I couldn’t be more impressed.’

  ‘It was more by good luck than good management, I’m sure.’

  ‘Not at all. You’ve got the right build, the right strength and fitness. With training, I see you becoming a very accomplished Munro bagger.’

  Oh, what a relief it was, to be talking of hill walking and not her love life, thought Monnie. Yet, she had brought it up and wasn’t sorry. It was good Paul knew about her feelings for Torquil, even if he had, as he put it, got carried away. Best that he knew how things were for her, for though he’d never told her and probably never would, she knew very well how things were for him. With all her heart, she wished they could have been different, but she had no magic wand. The three of them – herself, Torquil and Paul – must all do what they could with what had come to them. And if Torquil came out best, it was only to be expected, because he cared the least.

  Forty-Five

  Before she left Fionola in charge after lunch on Sunday, Lynette asked her to do her a favour.

  ‘Yes, if I can. What is it?’

  ‘Well, if you should see Scott, could you not tell him I’ve asked Ronan over to the hostel today?’

  ‘He’d care?’

  ‘It’s just that we’re good friends and he might wonder, you know, why I haven’t invited him.’

  ‘Surely there’s a special reason for inviting Mr Allan?’

  ‘Yes, but I think I’d just as soon not have Scott know about it.’

  ‘Lynette, he must know by now that you and Ronan are . . . well, as good as engaged.’

  ‘That’s not true, as a matter of fact.’

  Fionola smiled. ‘We’re all expecting an announcement any day.’

  ‘Same might be said about you and Mr Warner.’

  ‘Mr Warner?’ Fionola’s smile became a laugh. ‘Come on, he isn’t even here. He’s gone home.’

  ‘Bet he did propose, didn’t he?’

  ‘He did, in a roundabout way. And I refused, in a roundabout way. Didn’t want to hurt his feelings, poor old chap.’

  Fionola hesitated for a moment, then took a small jeweller’s box from her bag beneath the desk and opened it. ‘Look, he insisted on giving me this. Drove all the way to Inverness for it.’

  ‘Oh, my!’ At the sight of the small brooch glittering inside the box in a very expensive way, Lynette’s eyes opened wide. ‘Fionola, that’s beautiful.’

  ‘You think it’s valuable?’

  ‘Looks it. Not that I know anything about jewellery.’

  ‘If it is worth a lot, I’ll send it back to him. I really don’t want to take anything of that sort from him.’

  ‘Then you’d hurt his feelings.’

  Fionola shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll think about it, then. Oh, look out, here comes Mr Allan.’

  ‘All set?’ called Ronan, fast approaching, his eyes on Lynette.

  ‘All set!’ she cried, noting that in his off duty clothes of pale blue shirt and light trousers, he was looking unlike himself, and though still handsome, rather strained.

  ‘You’ll be all right?’ she asked Fionola. ‘It’s usually pretty quiet on a Sunday afternoon, eh?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ Fionola was deftly slipping the jeweller’s box back into her bag, out of Ronan’s sight. ‘Have a nice time off, won’t you?’

  ‘I’ll be back by six,’ Ronan told her. ‘Miss Atkinson will be in charge until then, and she has a contact number, in case I’m needed.’

  ‘Ronan,’ sighed Lynette, ‘can we go?

  In the car, driving the short distance to Conair, she could tell that he was very much on edge, as though he were facing some terrible ordeal. But then, of course, returning to his old home did represent an ordeal to him, as was proved by the fac
t that he’d never once been back, though he lived so close. Hope he’s not going to be really upset, Lynette thought, suddenly recalling that making folk do what was good for them sometimes backfired.

  ‘It’ll be all right, Ronan,’ she whispered, as they reached the gates to the hostel. ‘But if you’re really not happy, we can always give this a miss.’

  ‘No, I said I’d come and I meant it.’ He gave her a quick glance. ‘And now we’ve got this far, I’m really quite curious.’

  ‘That’s good. Let’s leave the car here and walk up, shall we? Aren’t we lucky, it’s another lovely day?’

  He did not answer, his attention being only on the old house before them; that Scottish Baronial house Lynette had come to know so well she scarcely noticed its turrets and cupolas and generally ‘over the top’ appearance any more. But now she saw it through Ronan’s eyes and knew he must be thinking of the pride he’d had in his home, of its grandness and distinction, and of how its exterior, at least here, had not changed.

  But when they met a few young people just leaving the house, he seemed taken aback, as though these strangers were too much for him, and it was Lynette who spoke to them.

  ‘You’ve just booked in?’ she asked crisply. ‘Fine, I expect the warden told you, everyone else is out for the day, but if you like to go exploring, they’ll all be back about five.’

  ‘That’s right, he did tell us,’ they said cheerfully. ‘We said we’d be back by five.’

  ‘Enjoy your afternoon,’ she called, and when Ronan belatedly called out a goodbye, she sighed and smiled.

  ‘No need to look so worried, Ronan. If you come to a hostel, you’ll see hostellers, you know. But, come on, let’s go inside. Ready?

  ‘Ready,’ said Ronan.

  Forty-Six

  They stood together at the handsome, studded front door, with its heavy locks and clasps.