Touched (24 page)

Dan had his camera set up on a tripod and was triggering the shutter with a remote cable to avoid shutter shake,
swivelling the body around to take different views.

‘I did tell you there was no light in the world like you get up here. Dawns can be special anywhere but here, with the quality of the light you get scenes like this. It’s a photographer’s dream.’

‘I thought all of this was done in Photoshop,’ she said.

‘Oh a lot of it is. People get lazy. I play with my images a little but I try to leave my photo’s as original as possible.’

‘I love your photos.’

‘Ah, they aren’t that great.’

‘I wish you’d stop saying that! You are always doing yourself down. They are that good. You really should think about doing it professionally.’

‘I couldn’t be a professional,’ he said, checking the view through the viewfinder, ‘could I?’

‘Yes you could! You just need to believe in yourself.’ Tess linked her arm briefly through Dan’s, giving him an encouraging squeeze. He was getting more used to how she felt, though the contact never lasted as long as he would like.

She leant down to look through the viewfinder.

‘Why are you using the tripod?’ she asked.

‘It may look bright to your eye but the light is actually very low. I could get a bit of camera shake if I shot hand held. The image wouldn’t be that crisp. It’s why I have to use the remote as well. Hopefully these will come out crystal clear and pin sharp.’

‘I used to just snap away. No wonder my pictures were never that great!’

‘I would have thought you were too calm and methodical to just snap,’ he grinned.

‘Don’t be mean!’ she said and gave him a push. To Dan’s shock this didn’t feel cool and tenuous at all but was a hard thump in the chest. He was so surprised that he lost his balance and fell over on his backside onto the muddy bank of the loch.

‘Oops!’ she said, ‘Sorry!’

She was breathing heavily.

‘Wow!’ said Dan, still sat in the mud, ‘where did that come from? I didn’t know you could do that!’

‘I can’t all the time but sometimes…well you saw!’

He scrambled to his feet, rubbing the mud off his hands as best as he could. He saw that Tess hadn’t moved and was still breathing heavily. She looked suddenly exhausted and pale. He still hadn’t got used to her breath fogging like his did in the chill morning air.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

‘Yes…give me…a moment…it really…takes it out of me,’ she gasped, ‘No!’

Dan had stepped towards her, arms outstretched.

‘Don’t touch me! Please,’ she said.

Dan stopped and let his arms fall to his sides.

‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t mean to…shout. I just don’t …want to vanish…here. I mean…it’s pretty…but…’

‘You’d prefer to haunt me!’

Tess looked quite serious.

‘Do I…do that?’

‘What, haunt me?’ Dan walked down to the water’s edge to rinse the rest of the mud off his hands. ‘Yes, I guess you do. From the moment I met you I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you.’

He wiped his hands on his sweatshirt, drying them as best he could before unclipping the camera from the tripod and putting it in the camera case.

‘You are always in my thoughts. That was the problem when I was with Jenny. Whether it is right or wrong that you are there makes no difference, that fact is you are. So with Jenny, she could never…’ He stopped and shook his head. ‘Anyway, forget it, it doesn’t matter. Are you up to going back to the car and moving on?’ He picked the tripod up.

She stood staring out over the water, though whether she was actually seeing the view Dan was not certain.

‘Yes,’ she said at last, ‘I’m ready.’

Sunday evening

The rest of the day was split between the campsite and photographic forays, Dan cooking a late breakfast back at the camp straight after visiting the harbour whilst Tess rested.

The last trip of the day was to the end of the road which the
SatNav had taken them down the previous evening. It ended in a village that looked out over a rocky sound to an island. A small boat acted as a ferry that ran backwards and forwards between the jetties taking divers, sightseers and villagers alike across and back. Beyond the village was a surprisingly large car park and, beyond that, set beneath rocky cliffs was a boulder strewn platform that led around to another sea loch inlet.

Dan and Tess walked up the slippery rocks to sit and look out over the headland, watching the sun set over the water.

‘Is everywhere around here beautiful?’ she said.

‘No. Some of it is even more stunning.’

‘I can see why you love it up here.’

‘Catch this place when it’s wet and miserable and you might not feel the same! I don’t care though, whatever the weather. I just love it.’

They sat in silence for a few minutes watching nature’s free art show develop and change, the colour palettes used would make an artist jealous.

‘I really want to hold you,’ he said.

She gave a wistful smile.

‘I would really like to be held by you,’ she whispered back.

‘Can I then?’

‘No. It wouldn’t feel nice for one thing and you’d look really, really stupid if anyone saw you with your arm sticking out in
mid air.’

‘I don’t care either way,’ he said, ‘I still want to.’

She shook her head slowly.

‘You’re crazy, really crazy, you know that?’ she said.

‘Oh yes. I know that.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘So may I?’

‘Go on then, if you must,’ she said grudgingly.

Dan carefully put his arm around her.

‘How do I feel?’ she asked.

‘It’s hard to describe. A little cool. Sort of there but sort of not, if you know what I mean. But still nice.’

Tess leant her head against his shoulder.

‘I still think you’re mad,’ she said.

‘How do I feel to you?’ he asked.

‘Hot,’ she said instantly, ‘and I meant temperature wise and not anything else, before you get all big headed!’

‘Ha! Don’t worry I wasn’t. But hot, really? So you feel me?’

‘Yes I feel. It’s so hot it almost burns. It’s…quite hard to bear actually.’

‘You want me to let go of you?’

‘No! Well not just yet anyway.’

She snuggled even closer.

‘You are the only thing I can feel actually,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dan puzzled over this but said nothing, not wanting the moment to end, scared of breaking the spell.

‘OK,’ she said at last pushing him away, ‘that’s enough.’

She stood up and stepped away from him.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

‘Sure, I’m fine.’

‘That wasn’t too convincing. What’s up?’

She looked at him, stony faced.

‘I said you were sneaky,’ she said, ‘This isn’t fair.  You’re making this too nice. This is crazy. We shouldn’t be doing this.’

Dan was in no mood to give ground. ‘Who’s to say what we should or shouldn’t be doing? Who’s to say what’s wrong and what’s right?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, turning away. ‘Somebody must know though. Somebody just has to.’

Monday morning

Early the next morning, Dan drove them down to the ferry terminal and parked the car. His original plan had been to pack up and take the car across to Mull and find a site there but the weather forecast was awful. They had about a 24 hour window before heavy rain set in. Tess and Dan had talked it over and settled for a day trip during which they would take a boat tour over to Staffa and Iona.

They boarded just a few minutes before the sailing time, heading straight up to the promenade deck at the rear of the passenger cabin. Dan had the full bad weather gear on; waterproof, fleece and scarf. Even in mid-April, 7 am was still quite chill.

‘I still worry about you, dressed like that,’ he whispered. Tess was still in the same jeans and t-shirt she had been wearing when he had first met her.

‘Shush,’ she said, ‘They think you’re talking to yourself.’

She nodded towards two women carrying huge rucksacks emblazoned with Canadian flags who were leaning on the ships rail nearby. Although they were looking at the harbour they kept giving Dan worried glances. He smiled back at them.

‘Oh yes that
really
helps!’ she said, ‘now you are talking to yourself
and
grinning inanely. Look, just stop talking to me whilst there are people around will you?’

Just as she finished speaking the ship’s horn blew to announce their departure. The hawsers were cast off and the ship shuddered as the thrusters pushed the ferry away from the dockside. The acrid yet sweet smell of diesel smoke rolled across the deck and caught at the back of Dan’s throat as the Ferry backed out into the
harbour. The engine note rose to a deep throb as the boat nosed forward and swung away to the right, away from the town and its harbour.

The water was glassy, a perfect calm, the mist laying on the water and obscuring the base of the surrounding uplands, the tops out in the clear to welcome the new day. The ferry slowly built up speed, a noisy blue and white intruder amidst nature’s perfect tableaux.

Tess pressed herself close to Dan and rested her head on his shoulder, just as she had done the previous day. He couldn’t help but notice the difference this time, a subtle but important one; she had done it this time without his asking. He gently leant over and kissed her on the head, her hair almost indistinguishable from the mist that surrounded them.

Monday afternoon

Some seven hours later they were sat on another rock on another beach, looking over yet another narrow sound of water. Despite the similarities, the differences were striking. Yesterday, the village had sat on a stark, dark, brooding rocky headland, the buildings dwarfed by the stone that loomed above them. Here the dark rocks were smaller and more scattered and separated from each other by brilliant white sandy
beachlets that shelved gently into a shallow azure sea. Above them, the sky was a deep blue, streaked with streams of high, white clouds, harbingers of the storms to come. Inland, dazzling squat and sturdy white-walled cottages under slate roofs were set against the lush greens of the grass and the browns and purples of the hills. They could have been in a different country.

‘This place can’t be real. It’s just picture perfect,’ said Tess in awe, ‘I thought Staffa was amazing but Iona is something else. Have you been here before?’

‘No, just read about it and seen pictures. It’s even more gorgeous in the flesh though.’

‘The cradle of Christianity in Scotland,’ she said, ‘What a place to pray and meditate.’

‘And it’s the burial place of the early Scottish Kings,’ said Dan.

‘You read the guide book too huh?’ giggled Tess.

‘Yup!’

‘Thought so. Now shush again. Those two Canadian women are coming onto the beach and
don’t you dare put your arm around me again!
They’ll have you committed if you do your one winged seagull impression again whilst flirting with your imaginary friend!’

‘Hi there!’ said Dan, waving to the two women who were walking along the path that skirted the beach. They nodded politely and waved back but their pace notably quickened until they were past.

‘Oh,’ said Dan under his breath, ‘be like that.’

‘Dan, don’t be surprised that they're like that. You screamed at one of them on the boat to Staffa,’

‘She was going to sit on you,’ mumbled Dan, ‘And I’m sure I didn’t scream.’

‘You yelled so hard she almost leapt off the boat!’

‘I didn’t.’

‘You did!’

He scrambled to his feet and held his hand out.

‘Let’s stop arguing and go and have a look at the Abbey.’

‘Sure,’ she said accepting it and letting Dan pull her to her feet. Just as she did another couple who had been on the boat passed by on the path and also gave Dan a very odd look.

‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll never see them again,’ Tess murmured as they walked off the beach. They joined the main road through the village and followed the signs to the Abbey. There was a short queue at a kiosk to pay the entrance fee and Dan waited his turn.

‘Two adults please,’ he said.

The girl at the kiosk stared at him. He realised he was the last in the queue and that there was no one else in sight.

‘You
muppet!’ whispered Tess fiercely.

‘Oh! Sorry! I mean one adult,’ he said quickly, ‘I thought I was with somebody.’