Daughter of the Tide

by Leah Fleming

  Three

  Kilphetrish

  At first light Minn woke with a start. Where was she? She could feel Anna’s bony legs lying across her stomach, but her own feet were cold on the stone bottle. She swung herself gently out of the bed feeling giddy with hunger and fear. What had she done bringing her children into this cold damp place on a whim? Her feet were used to soft rugs and polished floors not rough mats and overcoats thrown over the bed for warmth, and she had to see if Hew was still breathing.

  She tiptoed into the tiny box room where he slept tousle-haired under the borrowed plump eiderdown from next door. Her children had survived the night and the fire was still in. She had not lost the art of fire making.

  In fact it had been fun to clean off the salty dust, beat the rugs and air the rooms, buy in provisions, get the range fired up and give them an evening wash in the old zinc bath, wrap them snugly in the warmed beds and settle them down with a story. It was like pretending to play ‘wee hoosies’ when she was little in her den with Agnes.

  She sat down in the wooden chair in the half-light alert to the rattle of the door in the wind, the draughts creeping through a loose window and all the noises of a house waking up for the day, looking up at the weathered rafters. Everything seemed so small and cluttered. How had three of them managed to live in the one room?

  As the parings of light slid through the curtain she fingered the arm rests polished with the elbows of many generations. Time stood still in this ancient place; its fusty scent was unlocking the floodgates of recognition: Mother sitting by the fire knitting at speed, Uncle Niall peering from the mantelpiece, and she felt small again.

  The past was all around her and there was no escape. Minn was afraid. What am I doing? What am I trying to prove? she thought.

  The whole island knew she was back, curious as to why and anxious to let her know that the Mackinnons were also here.

  She was told about Ewan’s course at the Crannog, that Johanna had lost her baby abroad and that he was exhibiting in the Scottish Academy and in Glasgow. The artist was up for the Guthrie Award.

  It felt as if at every door and stopping place someone would accost her with their pennyworth of knowledge about the happy couple while trying to prise out of her just why she had returned so late in the season. The Lennox family was a nine-day wonder and if she kept them all out of sight then curiosity would soon fade. The islanders would never change, she smiled.

  Yet knowing she could bump into Ewan at any moment tinged every hour with danger. What would he look like? Would he acknowledge her? Did it matter if he ignored her? She could hardly breathe.

  All the old sadness and yearning, buried deep for so long, was rising up to the surface. This was her first courageous act for years. She was so alone in her marriage, filling her days with meaningless activities.

  How could she ever forgive Harry for cheating her into marrying him and being weak. How could she forgive herself for being weak and taking the safe option?

  ‘I don’t like you, Minn Macfee,’ she whispered into the smouldering peat. ‘I don’t like who you’ve become, trying to pretend you could ever be a lady. Here you’ll always be an oat bannock not a white pan loaf…’ She smiled at Mother’s words echoing in her head. Mother was right after all. She mustn’t ever take those humble origins out of her heart, but part of her was missing Pitlandry and her comfortable home.

  ‘Who’re you talking to?’ Anna crept behind her rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Just to some old ghosties, Granny and myself,’ she answered, feeling a sadness wash over her that she had not been closer to her own mother.

  ‘What are we going to do today? Can we go down to the beach exploring?’ said Anna. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

  ‘One thing at a time… porridge first. I’ll show you how we make it over the fire. I’ve soaked the oats in the pan. Then we’ll get washed from the kettle and the bowl and go and buy a postcard for Daddy if you like, from the stores,’ she added, seeing the look of delight on Anna’s face.

  ‘When are we going home?’ said Anna.

  ‘We’ll see. Aren’t you enjoying our stay?’ Minn sighed.

  ‘It’s cold and wet and I want to see Dusty.’ Anna gathered all the bowls on to the table. ‘And there’s no toys here.’

  ‘We can make up our own games and play sandcastles. I can find a pony for you to ride, if you like. When I was little we had to amuse ourselves.’ She couldn’t resist the jibe. How lucky her children were and how different her own circumstances had been.

  ‘Did you have a friend like Dusty?’ Anna said.

  ‘No, but I had Agnes Mackinnon, my best friend at the school.’ She felt her voice trembling.

  ‘Does she live on the island now? Can we visit her?’ Anna asked, and Minn shook her head.

  ‘Not exactly but I can show you her name and tell you all about her later, if you like,’ she offered and Anna smiled, her dark eyes flashing. The day was planned and her daughter was content.

  Anna was not an in-born bairn. Her world lay a hundred miles away from here. It wasn’t fair to drag her children out of their home on this wild goose chase. What dream was she chasing here? What fantasy was she acting out in forcing them to live as she had lived? Did she really want to stay in the cottage, deprive them of their father, put them in the village school where they would have to master a foreign tongue? Was this her plan?

  Are you jealous of your own children for being loved and pampered and cherished? In this house of stone there was little praise and encouragement for you, no hugs and kisses. Only Ewan treated you like a princess and you let him go. After him no one was enough, not Ken or Harry, but they seemed to be right at the time. Are you punishing your children? The fear stabbed her.

  Anna and Hew were already bemused by their mummy speaking another language and the change of surroundings. Hew was still young enough to adapt but Anna wanted her daddy. Only he wasn’t her real father. Was it possible that her real father was here and there was unfinished business between them? Had fate drawn them back together to sort out this one last thing remaining between them? This time she would not be gainsaid. This time she would tell Ewan the truth and shame the devil no matter what. Then once her duty was done she would be free… Free from what?

  *

  For once the storms relented and the wind died down enough to walk upright. The sun shone out of an ink-blue sky and for a few hours they could pretend it was still high summer and race along the white sands collecting the fine shells thrown up from the Gulf Stream, purples, pinks, cowries, while searching for messages in bottles. Anna wrote her name on a slip of paper and they launched their message out on the tide. Then, borrowing Peggy’s go chair they pushed Hew along the tracks towards Balenottar village and the crossroads to the little cemetery where Agnes lay.

  They picked the last of the autumn flowers and Anna ran ahead to look at the weathered gravestones. She knew about death because her kitten had died and horses had to be put down and Gil’s sheepdog had grown old, but not about little girls who died before their time.

  ‘How did she die?’ she asked.

  ‘Drowned in the sea in an accident,’ Minn said, picking her words with care.

  ‘What’s an accident?’ her daughter asked.

  ‘Something that just happens all of a sudden,’ she replied. How could she explain all the reasons why Agnes drowned and she did not.

  ‘Did it hurt her?’ Anna asked, and Minn tried to be honest.

  ‘I don’t know. We were swimming when we shouldn’t have been swimming and the sea took her away and then brought her back, but she wouldn’t wake up.’

  ‘Did she fall asleep in the sea?’ Anna looked at the faded gravestone and then skipped around it. ‘Does she know we’re here?’

  ‘I don’t know, but every time I come home I have to pay her a visit and tell her all my news just in case.’ Minn swallowed back her tears. No matter how long she lived on this earth she would never forget Agnes. ‘And now I’ve
brought my little girl to see her.’

  ‘I’m not a little girl. I’m a big girl,’ sneered Anna, running off. ‘Let’s go down to the sea and play accidents.’

  ‘No you don’t. You hold my hand near the water, young lady. One accident is enough in a lifetime,’ Minn shouted, but the wheels of the pram rutted in the damp sand. ‘Come on, time to head home for tea and we’ll bake drop scones on the griddle.’

  Anna was staring out at the sea, transfixed by the huge rolling waves surfing down on the pebbles.

  ‘Why does it make that noise? Is it an angry sea?’ she asked.

  ‘It does it at this time of year because summer is over and winter is coming.’ Minn laughed. ‘I suppose it could be angry. I’ve never thought of it like that.’

  ‘I think it’s crying cos it’s lost its daddy,’ Anna said matter-of-factly, skipping along loppity, happy to be close to water.

  In that instant, in that joy, Minn knew that her child was another daughter of the tide, a child born of love, not rape. She had to be Ewan’s daughter, tall for her age and slender. There was something of Agnes in that skipping, and her heart skipped a beat. If only she could be sure.

  Slowly they trundled their way back to the warm fire, stopping to let Hew toddle along and roly poly in the sand like a puppy. It was good for them to be in the fresh sea air.

  When they returned there was a battered car outside the machair and Peggy Sinclair was waving from her cottage door.

  ‘You’ve a visitor, Mrs Lennox. I told him you were away out with the bairns for a walk.’

  Her neighbour was peering into the window pointing.

  ‘I hope I did the right thing…’

  ‘Thank you. You are very kind,’ Minn said, closing the door. Perhaps Ewan had called on her at last. ‘Ewan?’ she found herself calling around, knowing full well it could not be him. Peggy would have said it was him.

  ‘Ewan,’ she sighed, shaking her head.

  ‘Sorry, old girl, only your husband,’ said Harry, rocking himself in front of the fire.

  ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!’ Anna flung herself into his arms. Minn let Hew waddle his way into the open arms, but she was wary. He gathered them in with a smile.

  ‘Harry, I told you not to come…’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m not surprised, living in this hovel,’ he whispered back. ‘What on earth possessed you to bring them here?’

  ‘I wanted them to see where I come from, where I belong,’ she snapped.

  ‘You don’t belong here. You never did. You couldn’t wait to get rid of your accent. Who are you kidding?’ He laughed. ‘It’s time to get back on that plane to Glasgow and stop all this foolishness.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not yet. I need time and you know damn well why I left you,’ she whispered.

  ‘All sorted, I promise you. I went to see the Prentiss boy. I explained I thought I’d hit a deer but realized it was more serious. I offered him compensation. They were very understanding. I said how upset you were that I might have not realized it was Donnie at the time. It’s all sorted now.’

  ‘What’s sorted?’ asked Anna.

  ‘We’re all going back to the Phetray Hotel for the night and tomorrow we’re back home to Dusty.’ Harry winked. Minn could have hit him, looking so smug.

  ‘I’m not ready to go back yet,’ she said, suddenly weary from all the walking. ‘I want to stay here a little longer with Hew. Anna can stay with you just for tonight.’

  ‘Oh by the way, this was shoved under the door, letter from lover boy,’ he sneered, handing her a note. She opened it, bending into the fire for the light.

  Sorry to have missed you all. Would you like to come to tea on Friday at the Crannog?

  Yours,

  JOHANNA MACKINNON

  Minn sat down suddenly exhausted. The invitation was not a surprise. Johanna must be as curious as the rest of the island. She had sensed one of them would have to make contact. There was no refusing and no excuses. This appointment must be kept, and she threw it to Harry.

  ‘See… Just a social call. I’d like you to see the old house. Don’t rush off. Let’s make it a bit of a holiday for the children’s sake.’

  ‘In this weather? Come and have a proper meal at the hotel at least,’ he replied, but Anna was tugging at his arm.

  ‘Mummy’s going to make drop scones and I’m going to help her and you can too,’ Anna ordered.

  ‘But not until she’s changed young Hew, I hope. He stinks to high heaven.’ Harry laughed.

  ‘Then pump us up some more water from the well.’ Minn pointed with a sigh.

  It was all beginning again, her boat was leaving the jetty bound for who knew where? With children aboard as ballast how could she not steer a clear course?

  Four

  The Crannog

  ‘I want you shaved, dressed and smartened up by three o’clock,’ ordered Jo, plonking Ewan’s breakfast on the table.

  He was in no mood for interruptions after a fitful night and carried on with his outline sketch barely looking up to greet her. ‘What’s so special about three o’clock?’ he teased, knowing full well that she had invited Minn and her kids. ‘Are we expecting a royal visit?’

  ‘All I’m asking is a pair of trousers without paint on them, trim your beard and be civilized, I’ll do the rest,’ Jo replied, ferreting in a box to find some old photos. ‘Look, I brought these from home to show us all at school. I thought her little girl might be interested. What’s her name?’

  ‘How should I know… Anne or Nancy, something like that… Suit yourself. I don’t know why we have to go through this charade. I don’t want to see Minnie Macfee or her wee brats!’ he snapped, feeling mean, but Jo had no right to invite them without his say so. She was stirring up trouble.

  ‘Ewan! What’s got into you? You’ve been like a tiger on the prowl all week. If I didn’t know you better I’d say you were scared to face her. It must be six or seven years since you two last met. She’ll want to see these pictures.’ Jo sat down and slid them across the table.

  ‘There she is sitting with Agnes on the front row looking wild and woolly, the one with galoshes two sizes too big? They say down in Kilphetrish that she’s very smartly dressed even to go to the store, in a gabardine mac and silk head scarf… There’s you standing on the back row scowling and me in front with pigtails.’ She smiled, hoping to soften his moodiness.

  He picked up the school line-up, faded and cracked with age. How could he forget that summer, the summer Agnes drowned and Minn lived? They were all blinking into the sunlight, windswept and tousled, so full of life and energy.

  There was Robbie Colquhoun, who was killed in Africa, and Murdo Murchison, who was lost on HMS Hood, and Lachie Sinclair, who died in a Jap POW camp, and Agnes who never made it to the next school term; so many gaps in the line-up now.

  He had forgotten how pretty his sister was, so dark like himself. There had been no photos of her in the manse. Mother hadn’t been able to bear looking upon her face but had brought her out only when there was company in case people would talk. Why should he be remembering that, except that today the Lady of Pitlandry was paying them a state visit?

  ‘I’m away to my work,’ he said, rising from the table. ‘You can ring a bell but I don’t want any interruptions. I’ll take the bike across to the far end. This is the last day of your holiday, I should have thought you’d want to be enjoying yourself not entertaining my old girlfriend,’ he quipped.

  ‘Your old fiancée, Ewan. You dumped me for her as I recall, at the regatta dance.’ She grinned wickedly.

  ‘And I lived to regret it, mo ghaoil,’ he said, pecking her on the cheek. ‘I wouldn’t swop you for a hundred Minns.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Who else would put up with your moods and the wanderings of a man who lives in his head, lost in a world no one else can share?’ she said, her soft hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘I’m going to enjoy playing the lady of the manor myself, serving tea in the drawing
room, baking fresh scones and biscuits for the small fry and showing Mistress Lennox around the very house where once she scrubbed the stairs. There’ll be no airs and graces after that little exercise.’ She winked. ‘But I want you by my side to show just what she’s missed all these years. Three o’clock sharp and no excuses… I’m depending on you so take a watch. I know how you lose all track of time, and keep out of the Tulloch.’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant!’ Ewan saluted and clicked his heels. ‘I’ll be there.’

  *

  ‘Why won’t you come with me, Harry?’ said Minn as she was changing Hew into his one clean outfit. There was no washing machine here to keep her children pristine, just a bucket for soiled nappies and water from the well. She was running out of clean clothes and longed for a soak in the giant bath at Pitlandry. ‘I want you to see the Crannog and us to meet the Mackinnons together. Don’t run out on me now,’ she pleaded, but for once Harry was not for turning.

  ‘I’ve no mind to see Mackinnon again,’ he said.

  ‘I wonder why? I’ve told you he knows it was you he spoke to. It was years ago,’ she replied, surprised by how important it was for him to be by her side when she met Ewan again.

  ‘You can take the baby, Brodie, and I’ll take Anna out of your hair. We’ll hire some ponies and trek down the coast,’ he offered, and Anna was jumping up and down with excitement.

  Since Harry’s unexpected arrival the child had never let him out of their sight, hanging on to his arm so the two of them had not had a minute alone together until the children were asleep. Then it was awkward in such a confined space.

  ‘Oh yes, Mummy, you promised I could ride,’ said Anna.

  ‘But I really wanted to take you with me to show you everything,’ she said, torn by her desire for Ewan to see her daughter and perhaps wonder at this new-found resemblance to Agnes. It was all part of the plan she was carefully constructing in her mind so that when they were alone she could drop this bombshell and test his reaction.

  She would engineer being alone with him somehow. Harry was to be the decoy, who would tour around the gardens with Johanna and Anna while she spoke to Ewan. Perhaps it was a silly fantasy and best forgotten as no one wanted to play ball.