‘Go back? Yes, why not?’
Suddenly he stood up in the boat, and for a moment looked down at her, then he took off his jacket and threw back his head to stare round at the mountains, seeming for a moment, in the weak sunshine, as clear cut as the statue he had once resembled before.
‘Why not go back this way?’ he whispered, and, stooping, pulled her from her seat, so that she was standing, shaking in the boat.
She cried out, begging him to let her go, to let her sit down, oh, please, please, but she knew he was past listening, and was herself numb to any surprise as, faster and faster he rocked the boat and she felt herself falling, falling from the boat, down, down, until the waters of Loch Hourn opened to receive her.
Sixty-Two
Darkness. Monnie had never known such darkness, all around her. Was this how it must be inside a grave? Yet, this was water over her and she was rising, rising slowly to the surface, gasping, floundering. But still there was darkness and she knew she was losing consciousness. Soon, she would sink again, sink to the bottom of the loch and would not rise . . .
‘It’s all right,’ she heard someone say, and strong arms were turning her, holding her. ‘I’ve got you, Monnie. Don’t struggle, don’t struggle.’
Paul’s voice? Yes, it was his, it was Paul, moving her through the water, oh, thank God, thank God. It might have been Torquil, come back to undo what he had done? No, never Torquil. It was Paul.
‘Don’t worry,’ his voice came. ‘I have you, you’ll soon be safe.’
I’m safe now, she wanted to tell him, feeling him so close, his wonderful hands beneath her shoulders, taking her with him as he swam, until gradually the water became shallow, they were swimming no longer and he was carrying her from the loch to the shore. It was true, she was safe.
‘Poor girl,’ he was whispering, as he laid her on the strip of sand. ‘Oh, my poor girl – thank the Lord, you’re all right.’
And there were people around, people from the cottages, helping her cough up water, taking off her sodden jacket, wrapping her in blankets, giving her something warm and fiery to drink. Best of all, there was no more darkness, only the light of the day she had thought she would never see again, and Paul, in a soaking shirt, smiling down at her, as someone threw a blanket round him too and handed him a flask.
‘Come on,’ he said gently, when he’d drunk from it. ‘There’s a lady here – Mrs MacIntyre – wants to lend you some dry things, then we must get you home. You will be shocked, we must take care.’
‘Aye, come along, dear, I’m just in this nearest cottage,’ said a dark-haired, kindly-faced woman, as she helped Monnie to her feet. ‘I’ve a lovely wee fire going, we’ll soon have you nice and warm. What a thing to happen, eh? But the young man was able to swim back and you were saved anyway – what a blessing!’
‘He swam back?’ Monnie was wavering on her feet. ‘Where is he? I want to see him!’
‘No, Monnie, no!’ Paul cried. ‘I’ll speak to him. You go with the lady.’
‘I must see Torquil. I must see him for myself. Where is he?’
He was sitting on the shore, only a short distance away, a blanket round his shoulders, his face very pale, his yellow hair dark with moisture on his brow. As Paul and Monnie came to him, he coughed and shivered, but made no move to look at them, or to speak.
‘Surprise, surprise, Torquil, here’s Monnie,’ Paul said grimly. ‘I bet you didn’t expect to see her again.’
‘I do not know what you are talking about.’ Torquil had put his hand to his mouth. He was breathing fast. ‘It was an accident what happened out there. Monnie will tell you herself, won’t you, Monnie?’
At last, he turned his gaze on her, but she did not flinch.
‘I know what you wanted to do, Torquil.’
‘It was no accident,’ Paul said roughly. ‘I was watching from the shore, I saw it happen.’
‘And what did you see? Monnie fall in? That was nothing to do with me. It was a sudden squall.’
‘There was no squall. You were standing up in the boat, you were rocking it, for God’s sake! You made Monnie stand, too, and you watched her fall, and then you swam away and left her!’
‘I tried to see her, but I could not, the water was too dark. In the end, I had to give up, save myself.’
‘Fine, we’ll let the police decide what the truth is.’ Paul put his arm more firmly round Monnie. ‘As soon as I see that this poor girl is well, I’m making the call.’
Torquil’s eyes flickered, he opened his mouth to speak, but Monnie, unloosening Paul’s arm took a step forward.
‘It’s all right, Torquil, you needn’t worry about the police. I am not going to press charges. I don’t care if you say it was an accident, as long as I never see you again.’
She turned to look at the water, pointing a shaking finger. ‘Whatever I felt for you is buried out there in that loch, where you told me once you liked to sit and think peaceful thoughts.’ She laughed weakly and turned to Paul. ‘Can we go?’
‘Give me a moment.’ Paul, his face white, his expression hard as stone, put his hands on Torquil’s shoulders and dragged him to his feet. ‘I just want to speak to this fellow first.’
‘And say what?’ asked Torquil.
‘Say this. If Monnie doesn’t want to be involved with the police, I’ll do what she wishes for now. But that won’t stop me writing a full account of what I saw, and of speaking to all the people here, for I guarantee someone else will have seen what I saw and back me up. And if you do not leave this area and remove yourself to some place where no one here will see you again, I will persuade Monnie that we should tell the police what happened and ask them to investigate.’
‘You’re asking me to leave my home?’ Torquil asked incredulously.
‘No, I’m telling you. Have I made myself clear? I mean what I say, Torquil, and tomorrow morning I shall be round at your mother’s to see what plans you’ve made. I’ve heard that it’s possible now to go to Australia for only ten pounds. That might be something for you to think about.’
As Torquil stood, transfixed, and the people at a distance stared, Paul put Monnie’s arm in his and they moved slowly back towards Mrs MacIntyre, who drew them into her cottage and quietly closed the door.
Some time later, on the drive back to the hostel, Monnie, dressed in borrowed jersey and trousers, turned to Paul. ‘How did you know?’ she asked. ‘How did you know where to find me?’
Hunched over the wheel of his car, Paul gave a long shuddering sigh. ‘I didn’t know, I guessed. What happened was that I was desperate for us to have that last walk together. I had found some time to spare and thought I’d come over, see if you were free. But your dad said you’d gone out with Torquil, gone to his “special place”.’
‘His special place,’ Monnie repeated softly. ‘Oh, God.’
‘Well, I didn’t know where that was, and anyway, what could I do? But for some reason, alarm bells were ringing in my head, and as I drove away, I remembered you’d told me once that he liked to go to Loch Hourn and sit in his boat. Without really knowing what I was up to, I turned round and drove to the loch.’
‘And you saw us?’
‘I saw you. In the boat. I took out my field glasses and watched. Next minute, I saw him make you stand, I saw him rocking the boat, and then I . . . well you know what I did.’ Paul tried to laugh. ‘I’ve always been a strong swimmer, but just then I think I could have qualified for the Olympics. I went cleaving through the water like some sort of shark and, thank God, I was in time.’
‘Paul, what can I say? You saved my life.’
‘I had to, Monnie. If anything had happened to you, I – I don’t know what I’d have done.’
There was a silence between them then until they reached the end of the hostel drive, where Paul stopped the car.
‘You must go in, Monnie, have a hot bath, try to recover. I don’t think you were actually in a near-drowning state, because I reached you fairly so
on, but you may feel delayed shock symptoms and need to have the doctor check you out.’
‘First, I must tell Dad what’s happened. I don’t know what he’ll do.’
‘He’ll want to go after Torquil, but I’ll tell him what we’ve decided. If you’re sure you don’t want to involve the police?’
‘I’m sure. I just want him away, out of my life. Paul – will you come into the house with me?’
‘I want to, I want to ring the doctor.’
They exchanged long tender glances, then Paul suddenly drew Monnie to him and held her close.
‘Oh, Monnie – do you have to go away? Couldn’t you stay, come to my school, work with me? Please, think about it.’
‘I don’t need to think about it.’ She pulled a little away, looking at him with clear grey eyes. ‘I’m free now, you see. I’m truly free. I have no feelings for Torquil, he’s gone completely from my mind. I’m myself again.’
‘Thank God,’ Paul said hoarsely. ‘Will you come, then? To my school? I don’t ask anything of you, you’ll still be free, but if . . .’ He stopped and she kissed him lightly on the lips.
‘I understand what you’re saying, Paul. I will come to your school, and we will work together. And – just take it from there. Will that be all right?’
‘All right? More than all right!’
Their kiss then was shared, a long, deeply satisfying kiss, that told them more about the future than any words, and when it was over, they left the car and walked up to the hostel’s front door, arms entwined, almost like the lovers they would become.
Sixty-Three
Frank’s wedding to Ishbel, at the end of October, provided all the balm needed to calm the village rocked by stories of what had happened on Loch Hourn and Torquil MacLeod’s mysterious departure. There was talk that he had tried to drown the warden’s younger daughter, or, that it had all been an accident, but one thing was for sure, he hadn’t tried to rescue her – that had been left to nice Mr Soutar. Sure, whatever hysterical Agnes said, everybody knew those boys of hers were wild ones, Torquil as well as Tony, and if Torquil had taken himself off, it was no loss to Conair.
Everyone invited to the kirk on that fine, autumnal wedding day, had therefore relaxed and taken comfort from the joy that flowed so clearly from the happy couple. If there were bad things that happened, there were good things too, and nobody needed the reception champagne (a present from Mr Allan at the hotel, would you believe?) to feel a sense of well-being again.
And how sweet it was to see young Monnie fully recovered from her ordeal and so calm and serene, as her father’s eyes followed her, and other eyes, too – and how good it was to know that she would not be leaving the Highlands she’d come to love, but staying on to work for Paul Soutar.
Sadly, goodbyes would have to be made to the lovely Lynette, who also had eyes following her – cheerful brown eyes belonging to Mr Allan’s chef, who was departing to start his own restaurant. Very upsetting, no doubt, for Mr Allan, who was already upset, the talk went, because Lynette was leaving, but then other rumours had it that he would find consolation with the beautiful Fionola, now in charge of Reception at the hotel. Seems she already had a new young assistant – rather plain, it was said, but a nice, willing girl who would be no threat to anyone, ‘And would never ever wear red,’ Lynette had been heard to remark, but no one knew what that meant.
The time came at last for Ishbel, lovely in blue, and Frank, still in his best suit, to leave the little cafe for Niall’s decorated car and the short trip to the Skye ferry. Everyone ran alongside for as long as they could, cheering and waving, until the car was out of sight, and then turned away, feeling the little feeling of let down that always comes at that time.
Monnie and Lynette, who had been the last to hug their father and Ishbel, were in fact now shedding a few tears, joined by Mrs Duthie, who said she always cried at weddings, never ask her why, and also Sheana, who said really she should be opening up the shop. But then everyone said, no, no, come and have a cup of tea and a little more wedding cake. Hadn’t Ishbel made it herself and was it not the best ever?
‘Talking about opening up the shop, I should be back at the hostel,’ Monnie told Lynette, over the teacups. ‘I’m in charge until the honeymoon’s over, remember.’
‘And then you’ll be moving to Paul’s climbing school, when I thought you’d be coming back with me tomorrow, to our old flat.’
Lynette sounded a little sad, but suddenly gave a broad smile. ‘No, I’m really happy for you, Monnie. It’ll be perfect for you over there, to be with Paul and to stay in the Highlands. I know that’s what you really wanted.’
‘And you’ve got what you really wanted, too. The bright lights, eh? Plus a new job and a new admirer.’
‘Scott?’ Lynette smiled. ‘We’ll have to see how that works out. Just as you’ll be waiting to see how things work out with you and Paul. It’s odd, really, how our lives have moved along parallel lines, eh?’
‘Both making mistakes first, you mean?’
‘And being giving second chances.’
The two sisters hesitated, then clung together, dashing more tears away as they moved apart.
‘The main thing is that you’re all right,’ Lynette said huskily. ‘Oh, Monnie – if you hadn’t been—’
‘I am, though. And so are you and Dad and everyone we care about. We did the right thing, coming to the Highlands – even if you are going home again.’
‘I wouldn’t have missed it, though,’ Lynette said quietly. ‘I’ve learned a lot.’
Monnie nodded. ‘Better get back,’ she whispered.
‘Want a lift?’ asked Paul, appearing at her side. ‘Car’s at the door.’
‘So is mine,’ Scott told Lynette. ‘All ready for tomorrow?
‘Always ready for tomorrow,’ cried Lynette.
Table of Contents
A Selection of Recent Titles by Anne Douglas
The Warden’s Daughters
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapt
er Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Anne Douglas Page 29
