Anne Douglas (36 page)

‘We’ll be all right. Probably just go for a drive.’

‘I thought you’d said goodbye to him. Why go out again?’

‘This is our real goodbye.’

Hope so, thought Frank, as Torquil arrived, dismissing worries over the weather. He knew the look of the sky, it would be clear again before long.

‘Ideal for a trip to my special place,’ he added.

‘Your special place?’ Frank repeated. ‘Not your island again?’

‘No, no. Monnie will know.’

‘Take care, then.’

‘Of course.’ Torquil raised his hand in salute. ‘Special care, for a special place.’

‘And I know this special place?’ Monnie asked, when they had left the village.

‘Sure you do. Remember when I told you how I liked to take my rowing boat out on Loch Hourn and just sit in peace, looking at the mountains?’

‘We’re going in your rowing boat?’ Monnie’s heart was plummeting. ‘I’m not sure I want another boat trip.’

‘This will not be like our last one, sweetheart. This one will be very quiet, very peaceful. Just a little row on the loch so that you can think of me in my favourite place, when you are far away.’

‘Odd, you’ve never taken me there before.’

‘Well, you went there with Paul Soutar, didn’t you? I never thought the time was right for you to go with me, until now.’

‘Paul says the loch can be treacherous in bad weather,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It may not be fine enough today.’

‘Trust me, it will be just what we want.’

Perhaps not surprisingly, Torquil, the fisherman, used to watching the weather, was right. By the time they arrived at the loch and parked on the narrow shore, there were patches of blue breaking up the greyness of the sky, and even a ray or two of thin sunlight. No need, then to worry, thought Monnie, who had rather hoped there might be cause to persuade Torquil not to take his boat out. After all, it was pleasant enough here, with the quiet cottages and their friendly smoke showing signs of life, even though no people were visible.

‘Perfect,’ Torquil was murmuring. ‘The water is calm, Monnie, you will have no need to fear, and we shall not be out long.’

‘The mountains seem so dark, looking down,’ she said shivering.

‘Ach, they are splendid and the sun will be on them soon. Come, give me your hand. Here’s my boat ready for us at the jetty. Just an ordinary rowing boat, as you can see.’

He helped her into her seat, on which there was one shabby cushion, then sat down himself to take the oars.

‘All right?’ Lit by a smile, his face, so wonderfully handsome, made her catch her breath. It was partly this face that had held her in thrall, but there had been more to his power over her than just good looks. She had never really been able to analyse it, had only been willing to yield, until in the recent weeks, she had somehow found the strength to know she must make the break. As she nodded in answer to his question and they began to move smoothly over the water, she felt a great thankfulness that she had achieved what she wanted. The break had been made. Now all that remained was the last goodbye.

‘No spin drifts to cause great waves today,’ she said lightly.

They had reached the centre of the loch and Torquil, resting on his oars, was no longer smiling.

‘Only from you.’

‘Me? What do you mean?’

‘Do you not think that you have been causing great waves for me?’

‘How could I do that?’ She was glancing around at the darkness of the mountains, the silent water. She had begun to shiver.

‘Spin drifts upset boats. You have upset me, by leaving me.’ He leaned a little towards her. ‘Monnie, people do not leave me. I might leave them, they do not leave me. You are the first.’

‘You – you said you couldn’t hold me, if I didn’t want to be held.’

‘Did I say that?’ He trailed an oar in the water. ‘That was not like me.’

‘You did say it.’

‘But is it true, that you do not want to be held? Are you sure, you want me to let you go?’

It was growing colder now, with a chill wind rising, and the surface of the water, no longer calm, was moving in widening ripples, slapping the sides of the boat. Aware of that and of her situation, Monnie, her teeth chattering, was beset by fear, but she would not answer him. She would not say what he was waiting to hear.

‘Monnie!’ He was still leaning towards her, his eyes seeming to shine, even glitter, his smile eager. ‘Monnie, why are you not answering? Are you afraid? Afraid to admit you want to stay with me? Come on, it is all nonsense, eh, this going away? Girls do it, I know. Play hard to get. Make men give them what they want.’

He held out a hand to her, which she did not take.

‘Is it marriage you want, Monnie? OK, we’ll be married. I am willing, very willing, and, as you know, it is what my mother wants—’

‘Torquil,’ Monnie interrupted, her voice as clear as she could make it, though she could not disguise its tremor. ‘I don’t want to marry you. I just want to go away. I have to, you see, I have to leave you, and I’m sorry, really sorry, if you’re upset and disappointed in me.’ She swallowed, feeling her throat thick with tears, while keeping her eyes fixed on Torquil, who was now sitting back in his seat, his face blank of any expression.

‘It’s a shame things didn’t work out,’ she was desperately struggling on. ‘They should have done, we were so happy, weren’t we? There were some lovely times. Oh, please, Torquil, can we go back now?’

‘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 soon, 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.’