naughty little fantasies.’
‘You’ll really help me fight to get my home back?’
Briefly, I felt angry with myself that on the first day of my mission I had been swayed so far off course. I was a lightweight dinghy cut loose in the raging sea. However freed I felt, perhaps because I had exchanged the usual routine of daily life for dangerous and unknown waters, it was imperative that I remain on course to launch a wholehearted assault on Kinrade.
Lewis nodded and I kissed him tenderly on the neck. He left to walk back to his wife and within minutes I slipped into a deep sleep.
4
I recognised him immediately, from behind, stooped over counting eggs into a basket, his back and head swathed by a dark green waterproof jacket. It could have been anyone but it wasn’t. I knew it was him . It was the voice, the rich tones that were as earthy as mountain water filtering through peat, that caused tiny goose-bumps all over my body. I caught a whiff of whisky mash, barley, yeast and smoke, reminding me of the smell he always wore after visiting his father at work deep inside the Glen Broath Distillery. Connor stood up straight and carefully placed his chosen eggs on the counter and it was then that I could see he was now a man, not the teenager I still cradled in my head.
I stood only three feet behind him as he placed his groceries in a bag. Idle conversation with the shopkeeper provided a constant and evocative flow of his voice, filling me with memories of days spent tumbling together in the springy, moss-covered fields and weekends clambering over slippery rocks on the beach. We were happy children, would perhaps have become lovers, maybe married, if it hadn’t all ended. I swallowed and blinked back awash with tears. Connor turned to leave and walked straight into me.
‘So sorry,’ he said and began to sidestep around me before stopping and studying my face.
‘That’s OK.’ I bowed my head, a part of me desperate for him to recognise me but the sensible side of me screaming that enough people already knew of my presence on the island and one more could undermine my mission.
‘Ailey?’ he said. ‘Ailey Callister, is that you?’ Connor leaned back as if to get a better view of the unlikely person he saw standing before him. ‘It’s been years!’ His final declaration told me that he had deduced that it was definitely me.
‘Yes, hi,’ I said meekly. The shopkeeper was tuning into events, ready to pass on juicy titbits to the next customer – the parochial equivalent of a buy-one-getone-free. ‘Fourteen years, to be precise.’
‘Where have you been ?’
I slowly looked up at Connor. His face had widened; it was no longer that of an eager, skinny youth. His bones had thickened into those of a man used to heavy work and the skin on his face had roughened from a smooth palette of tentative, boyish freckles into a ruddy, experienced expression.
‘Away,’ I replied.
‘Well, where away?’ Connor reached out a large, lightly-haired hand and touched my shoulder. All those giddy feelings that once kicked up in the pit of my belly as a young girl came swirling through my body again although this time with the honesty and power of a woman. ‘Look, are you free? How about coming back to Glen Broath for a bit of a warm up? You can fill me in on all the missing time.’
It was better than standing in the shop broadcasting my private life to the village via the shopkeeper. I nodded and flung the few groceries that I needed onto the counter. Besides, Connor would most likely have come by car and I wasn’t keen on the walk back along the coast road in the twilight and drizzle. I paid and joined Connor outside the shop. He was holding open the door to a beat-up Land Rover and took my bag of shopping as I climbed in.
‘It’s all tins,’ he said with a laugh as he dumped the bag at my feet. ‘Your mother was always fanatical about healthy eating.’ He grinned and yanked the stubborn gear lever into first.
‘You’ll really help me fight to get my home back?’
Briefly, I felt angry with myself that on the first day of my mission I had been swayed so far off course. I was a lightweight dinghy cut loose in the raging sea. However freed I felt, perhaps because I had exchanged the usual routine of daily life for dangerous and unknown waters, it was imperative that I remain on course to launch a wholehearted assault on Kinrade.
Lewis nodded and I kissed him tenderly on the neck. He left to walk back to his wife and within minutes I slipped into a deep sleep.
4
I recognised him immediately, from behind, stooped over counting eggs into a basket, his back and head swathed by a dark green waterproof jacket. It could have been anyone but it wasn’t. I knew it was him . It was the voice, the rich tones that were as earthy as mountain water filtering through peat, that caused tiny goose-bumps all over my body. I caught a whiff of whisky mash, barley, yeast and smoke, reminding me of the smell he always wore after visiting his father at work deep inside the Glen Broath Distillery. Connor stood up straight and carefully placed his chosen eggs on the counter and it was then that I could see he was now a man, not the teenager I still cradled in my head.
I stood only three feet behind him as he placed his groceries in a bag. Idle conversation with the shopkeeper provided a constant and evocative flow of his voice, filling me with memories of days spent tumbling together in the springy, moss-covered fields and weekends clambering over slippery rocks on the beach. We were happy children, would perhaps have become lovers, maybe married, if it hadn’t all ended. I swallowed and blinked back awash with tears. Connor turned to leave and walked straight into me.
‘So sorry,’ he said and began to sidestep around me before stopping and studying my face.
‘That’s OK.’ I bowed my head, a part of me desperate for him to recognise me but the sensible side of me screaming that enough people already knew of my presence on the island and one more could undermine my mission.
‘Ailey?’ he said. ‘Ailey Callister, is that you?’ Connor leaned back as if to get a better view of the unlikely person he saw standing before him. ‘It’s been years!’ His final declaration told me that he had deduced that it was definitely me.
‘Yes, hi,’ I said meekly. The shopkeeper was tuning into events, ready to pass on juicy titbits to the next customer – the parochial equivalent of a buy-one-getone-free. ‘Fourteen years, to be precise.’
‘Where have you been ?’
I slowly looked up at Connor. His face had widened; it was no longer that of an eager, skinny youth. His bones had thickened into those of a man used to heavy work and the skin on his face had roughened from a smooth palette of tentative, boyish freckles into a ruddy, experienced expression.
‘Away,’ I replied.
‘Well, where away?’ Connor reached out a large, lightly-haired hand and touched my shoulder. All those giddy feelings that once kicked up in the pit of my belly as a young girl came swirling through my body again although this time with the honesty and power of a woman. ‘Look, are you free? How about coming back to Glen Broath for a bit of a warm up? You can fill me in on all the missing time.’
It was better than standing in the shop broadcasting my private life to the village via the shopkeeper. I nodded and flung the few groceries that I needed onto the counter. Besides, Connor would most likely have come by car and I wasn’t keen on the walk back along the coast road in the twilight and drizzle. I paid and joined Connor outside the shop. He was holding open the door to a beat-up Land Rover and took my bag of shopping as I climbed in.
‘It’s all tins,’ he said with a laugh as he dumped the bag at my feet. ‘Your mother was always fanatical about healthy eating.’ He grinned and yanked the stubborn gear lever into first.
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