Does Your Mother Know? by Maureen Jennings

appeared happy, and the picture, shoved to the back of the desk, was testimony to the rancour of the breakup.
    Lisa had wiped at her face and stuffed the handkerchief in her pocket. She spoke in Gaelic to Gillies, and I gathered she was speaking about the handkerchief. He smiled and nodded at her.
    I showed her the photograph. “When did they get divorced?”
    “Eons ago. More than forty years. She was a MacNeil and, according to my grandmother, the poor woman was considered one of the ugliest girls on the island. Tongues clacked when she got engaged to the handsome Tormod, who was a proper masher by all accounts.” She grimaced. “When Iain appeared just six months after the wedding, the questions were answered. Everybody knew how Margaret had snagged him.”
    “And she’s in New Zealand now?”
    “She is. The divorce was quite a scandal at the time, because nobody whatsoever was divorcing on this island. She emigrated soon after, taking their daughter with her. She left Iain as if he were a piece of furniture she didn’t want. Tormod said he never saw his daughter again after she went to New Zealand. Her mother would-n’t allow it. I’d better remind Andy to notify her. Although I don’t know where the hell she is.” Lisa indicated the little boy in the photograph. “That’s Andy’s father, Iain. He married Mary MacIver from Barra, but she didn’t survive complications from childbirth. She passed away only two days after Andy was born. It was so tragic. I can still remember the funeral up at Back Church. Iain never remarried, and now he’s passed on.” She sniffed. “For what it’s worth, I think not having a mom’s the reason Andy hooked up with Coral-Lyn.” She made a vague gesture with her hands to indicate big breasts. “I shouldn’t gossip though. She’s a good Christian soul. She works hard for the church, so I hear, and the two of them visited Tormod faithfully. Not on the weekend, of course.”
    “Church duties?” I asked disingenuously. I knew what she was getting at, but wanted her to say it.
    “Partly that. More to do with me. Coral-Lyn didn’t like the fact I live here.”
    “Right. As Mr. MacAulay’s companion.”
    “Exactly.” She sighed, and I could see her thinking about the small betrayal of his voyeurism. “Miss Pitchers is what I’d call ‘intense,’” she went on. “Too much for me. Besides, all that Lord’s Day Observance stuff is so yesterday. Who cares about preserving the Sabbath these days when the entire world needs preserving much more? Not working on Sundays isn’t going to do it, believe me.”
    She gulped back a sob, but I knew it wasn’t to do with any religious convictions. For all her “I’m a tough broad” attitude, Lisa was in a state of shock. I put my hand on her shoulder and she touched it briefly with her callused palm.
    “Do you want to see the rest of this floor?”
    “Yes, if you don’t mind.”
    Her bedroom was across the hall, and we went there first. Given Lisa’s rather determinedly teenaged appearance, I expectedto see an unholy mess, but it wasn’t that at all. There was a single bed covered with a beautiful plaid blanket, an armchair under the window, a set of bookshelves filled to overflowing, and a small student desk, neatly stacked with papers.
    “Everything’s as I left it.” She stroked the blanket. “That’s Tormod’s work. He made it for me for Christmas.”
    “What are you studying?” I asked as we went out into the hall. “Environmental issues. My specialization is oceanic conservation.”
    “That sounds suitable for a Hebridean girl.”
    She grinned.
    Once again, Gillies was holding a door open for us, and she went into the bathroom while I stood at the threshold.
    “It looks cleaner than usual, that’s all. Maybe he was anticipating me coming in. We’d have big rows all the time about the mess. Me, I like things neat and tidy.”
    We moved back into the hall, and she stopped at the top of the