with stories, all these hints about the seal king and how Thora Harbister disappeared in exactly the same circumstances ten years ago.’
She paused. ‘However, apart from it being Lammastide, the whole thing, in my opinion, is not only sheer coincidence but sheer nonsense. I don’t believe a word of this seal king story – never have – but some folk here will believe anything.’ A sigh and she added, ‘As you are well aware, you have to be away on the mainland for a bit to see things in the right perspective. I’ve only been away once in my whole life, the year after you left, and although I longed for home,when I came back, I’d had time to recognise the flaws.’
Pausing, she glanced towards the window, as if seeing for a moment that other world, then turning again she smiled at him. ‘There has to be a better theory than a superstitious legend. I’m sure you already have come to some sensible conclusions about that. So tell me – what do you think happened?’ And, chin on hand in a well-remembered pose, she waited patiently for his response.
‘I agree with you about the seal king theory. But what you don’t know is that I had met her that evening, just hours before – quite by accident. I was walking along the shore.’
He was rather pleased that Inga’s benign expression changed fleetingly to one of jealousy, and for a moment he wanted to divert the conversation to the subject of Amos Flett.
‘Go on,’ she was saying. ‘This should be interesting. You’d just met, so what did you talk about?’
Once again, Faro went over the details of that conversation, and in truth it sounded a little banal as Inga interrupted somewhat impatiently, ‘There’s nothing new there; everyone here knows all about the Prentiss-Grants and that Miss Celia is nothing more than a rather spoilt only child. But that doesn’t tell us why she cameback suddenly to what, by all accounts, wasn’t her favourite place on earth and then promptly vanished.’
Frowning she added, ‘There’s nothing she said to you to indicate what she had in mind, was there? Although one would hardly expect such revelations, even to a lad she found so attractive that she had to force her company upon him.’
Faro made a grimace and Inga shrugged. ‘I just get the impression, helped on, I must confess, by local gossip, that she was used to getting her own way. Every shop in Stromness and Kirkwall will tell you that from childhood Miss Celia was a little madam. Seems to me most likely that she had come back all the way from London, alone, because of a violent disagreement with her parents.’
As those were Faro’s own thoughts, he told her about the clothes Stavely had discovered.
‘Now, that is bizarre. What! Abandon a lovely fur cloak – a pretty dress and petticoats.’ Inga’s shocked expression said that her reverence for elegant clothes which she could never afford was deeply outraged. ‘Had she gone into the sea in her boots? No one ever does that. That’s awful.’
Boots were a rare luxury almost unknown among crofters. As a schoolboy Faro had gone barefoot in summer and was surprised to seeboots being worn by working folks in Edinburgh, while island men and women fortunate enough to own a pair treasured them greatly, their survival watched in eager anticipation of being handed down to less fortunate members of the family.
‘She apparently did keep on her undergarments,’ Faro muttered.
Inga laughed. ‘You should see your face, Jeremy. No need to look so embarrassed about under-drawers, most of us would wear them every day, if we could afford them.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But it does seem odd, her cloak and all lying there neatly piled together, just as if she had suddenly decided to have a swim. But surely not on a night like that.’
‘There’s something else,’ Faro said. ‘The sergeant and I went back to Scarthbreck and searched her bedroom – looking for anything that might give us a clue. Her reticule
She paused. ‘However, apart from it being Lammastide, the whole thing, in my opinion, is not only sheer coincidence but sheer nonsense. I don’t believe a word of this seal king story – never have – but some folk here will believe anything.’ A sigh and she added, ‘As you are well aware, you have to be away on the mainland for a bit to see things in the right perspective. I’ve only been away once in my whole life, the year after you left, and although I longed for home,when I came back, I’d had time to recognise the flaws.’
Pausing, she glanced towards the window, as if seeing for a moment that other world, then turning again she smiled at him. ‘There has to be a better theory than a superstitious legend. I’m sure you already have come to some sensible conclusions about that. So tell me – what do you think happened?’ And, chin on hand in a well-remembered pose, she waited patiently for his response.
‘I agree with you about the seal king theory. But what you don’t know is that I had met her that evening, just hours before – quite by accident. I was walking along the shore.’
He was rather pleased that Inga’s benign expression changed fleetingly to one of jealousy, and for a moment he wanted to divert the conversation to the subject of Amos Flett.
‘Go on,’ she was saying. ‘This should be interesting. You’d just met, so what did you talk about?’
Once again, Faro went over the details of that conversation, and in truth it sounded a little banal as Inga interrupted somewhat impatiently, ‘There’s nothing new there; everyone here knows all about the Prentiss-Grants and that Miss Celia is nothing more than a rather spoilt only child. But that doesn’t tell us why she cameback suddenly to what, by all accounts, wasn’t her favourite place on earth and then promptly vanished.’
Frowning she added, ‘There’s nothing she said to you to indicate what she had in mind, was there? Although one would hardly expect such revelations, even to a lad she found so attractive that she had to force her company upon him.’
Faro made a grimace and Inga shrugged. ‘I just get the impression, helped on, I must confess, by local gossip, that she was used to getting her own way. Every shop in Stromness and Kirkwall will tell you that from childhood Miss Celia was a little madam. Seems to me most likely that she had come back all the way from London, alone, because of a violent disagreement with her parents.’
As those were Faro’s own thoughts, he told her about the clothes Stavely had discovered.
‘Now, that is bizarre. What! Abandon a lovely fur cloak – a pretty dress and petticoats.’ Inga’s shocked expression said that her reverence for elegant clothes which she could never afford was deeply outraged. ‘Had she gone into the sea in her boots? No one ever does that. That’s awful.’
Boots were a rare luxury almost unknown among crofters. As a schoolboy Faro had gone barefoot in summer and was surprised to seeboots being worn by working folks in Edinburgh, while island men and women fortunate enough to own a pair treasured them greatly, their survival watched in eager anticipation of being handed down to less fortunate members of the family.
‘She apparently did keep on her undergarments,’ Faro muttered.
Inga laughed. ‘You should see your face, Jeremy. No need to look so embarrassed about under-drawers, most of us would wear them every day, if we could afford them.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But it does seem odd, her cloak and all lying there neatly piled together, just as if she had suddenly decided to have a swim. But surely not on a night like that.’
‘There’s something else,’ Faro said. ‘The sergeant and I went back to Scarthbreck and searched her bedroom – looking for anything that might give us a clue. Her reticule
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