his
room after he had left, she still could smell his scent on his sheets. She laid
her head on his pillow, imagining his arms around her. She pulled the covers
over her and saw what he would have seen each time he had lain where she was
now. She saw the door at which he had held her captive briefly and the bathroom
from which he emerged with only towel wrapped loosely at his waist.
She drew a sharp
breath and arose out of his bed. She couldn’t bear changing the sheets just
yet. Instead she straightened them out and then cleaned up his bathroom. She
folded his used towel and hung it neatly over the towel rail. One more day, she
said to herself. She would give it one more day.
She heard the door bell
ring and not long after she heard Jai call out to her. “Mum, it's Gran.”
She gave one final
look at Richard’s bedroom before dashing downstairs.
“Hi Ethel,” she said.
“Hello,” Ethel
answered. “Were you busy?”
“Not at all,” Emma
answered. “Would you like to sit in the conservatory?”
“No,” she said. “It’s
quite a nice and warm afternoon. How about the rear veranda?” Ethel didn’t wait
for an answer but instead strolled slowly to the rear of the house through the
kitchen.
She settled herself
into a white sun-dance chair. A small breeze blew past her, flicking her snow
white hair lightly over her shoulders.
“You don’t get many
afternoons like this one,” she said once Emma had joined her at her side.
“No,” Emma answered
admiring the glowing amber ball of the sun setting in the oceanic horizon.
“You have been gardening.”
Ethel noticed the freshly dug earth. “It's a wise time to start. Make sure you
ask Nancy for seeds. She has an assortment of those. Harvests them each time at
the end of their season.”
“Thanks Ethel. I
will.”
They remained silent
for a while as they watched the setting sun sink lower into the horizon. The
chatter of birds in the distant trees indicated they also had retired for the
evening. The blue skies that were dominated by sea-eagles, sparrow hawks and
buzzards by the day was now gradually darkening and bereft of them. A cloud of
bats flew swiftly through the evening sky.
“Where’s the
children’s uncle?” Ethel asked. “He doesn’t seem to be home.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s
actually returned to London this morning.”
Ethel glanced at her,
a frown furrowed in her wrinkled brow. “No? But aren’t you going to that dance
in Dunvegan tomorrow?”
Emma gave her a
small, half-smile. “Well, he was supposed to be my escort. Now that I have
none, I don’t know if I want to go anymore.”
“Nonsense,” Ethel
scolded. “After all that effort to buy yourself a dress? Plus you had been so excited
about this dance.”
Emma chuckled. “I
know. But you can’t expect me to go alone. And even if I do, who should I take
along? The only other people I know here in Skye are you, Theodore and Nancy.
You're definitely I’m not taking. You’d fizzle a lively Irish set dance to a
sad slow dance. Do you know how apprehensive the entire isle is of you?”
Ethel gave a small
croaky grunt. “What would they know? All they care to do is indulge themselves
in small, irrelevant gossip. It’s always been there. Way before I was born and
it still continues today. I remember how much we used to fear old grandfather
Kinnaird, Arthur’s grandfather.”
“Was this when you
married Arthur?”
“No, no lass . This was long, long ago. Way before I was married. I
was just about young Jai’s age. Eight or ten years old maybe. His name was
Clement Kinnaird. Very officious looking man. His hair was brushed into a
cowlick lock, full sideburns, an imperial moustache and a spade beard that we
thought was so sharp at the ends, he could use it to split the next person he
found offensive. His tongue was just as sharp and he had a voice that boomed
when he was angry. Worked his employees to the bone that man. He had an
intolerance for any man to question
room after he had left, she still could smell his scent on his sheets. She laid
her head on his pillow, imagining his arms around her. She pulled the covers
over her and saw what he would have seen each time he had lain where she was
now. She saw the door at which he had held her captive briefly and the bathroom
from which he emerged with only towel wrapped loosely at his waist.
She drew a sharp
breath and arose out of his bed. She couldn’t bear changing the sheets just
yet. Instead she straightened them out and then cleaned up his bathroom. She
folded his used towel and hung it neatly over the towel rail. One more day, she
said to herself. She would give it one more day.
She heard the door bell
ring and not long after she heard Jai call out to her. “Mum, it's Gran.”
She gave one final
look at Richard’s bedroom before dashing downstairs.
“Hi Ethel,” she said.
“Hello,” Ethel
answered. “Were you busy?”
“Not at all,” Emma
answered. “Would you like to sit in the conservatory?”
“No,” she said. “It’s
quite a nice and warm afternoon. How about the rear veranda?” Ethel didn’t wait
for an answer but instead strolled slowly to the rear of the house through the
kitchen.
She settled herself
into a white sun-dance chair. A small breeze blew past her, flicking her snow
white hair lightly over her shoulders.
“You don’t get many
afternoons like this one,” she said once Emma had joined her at her side.
“No,” Emma answered
admiring the glowing amber ball of the sun setting in the oceanic horizon.
“You have been gardening.”
Ethel noticed the freshly dug earth. “It's a wise time to start. Make sure you
ask Nancy for seeds. She has an assortment of those. Harvests them each time at
the end of their season.”
“Thanks Ethel. I
will.”
They remained silent
for a while as they watched the setting sun sink lower into the horizon. The
chatter of birds in the distant trees indicated they also had retired for the
evening. The blue skies that were dominated by sea-eagles, sparrow hawks and
buzzards by the day was now gradually darkening and bereft of them. A cloud of
bats flew swiftly through the evening sky.
“Where’s the
children’s uncle?” Ethel asked. “He doesn’t seem to be home.”
“No, he isn’t. He’s
actually returned to London this morning.”
Ethel glanced at her,
a frown furrowed in her wrinkled brow. “No? But aren’t you going to that dance
in Dunvegan tomorrow?”
Emma gave her a
small, half-smile. “Well, he was supposed to be my escort. Now that I have
none, I don’t know if I want to go anymore.”
“Nonsense,” Ethel
scolded. “After all that effort to buy yourself a dress? Plus you had been so excited
about this dance.”
Emma chuckled. “I
know. But you can’t expect me to go alone. And even if I do, who should I take
along? The only other people I know here in Skye are you, Theodore and Nancy.
You're definitely I’m not taking. You’d fizzle a lively Irish set dance to a
sad slow dance. Do you know how apprehensive the entire isle is of you?”
Ethel gave a small
croaky grunt. “What would they know? All they care to do is indulge themselves
in small, irrelevant gossip. It’s always been there. Way before I was born and
it still continues today. I remember how much we used to fear old grandfather
Kinnaird, Arthur’s grandfather.”
“Was this when you
married Arthur?”
“No, no lass . This was long, long ago. Way before I was married. I
was just about young Jai’s age. Eight or ten years old maybe. His name was
Clement Kinnaird. Very officious looking man. His hair was brushed into a
cowlick lock, full sideburns, an imperial moustache and a spade beard that we
thought was so sharp at the ends, he could use it to split the next person he
found offensive. His tongue was just as sharp and he had a voice that boomed
when he was angry. Worked his employees to the bone that man. He had an
intolerance for any man to question
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