An Island Apart (21 page)

‘I'm glad,' Jamie said to her when they were alone in the kitchen. He kissed her. ‘It's good to know you'll always be here,' he said.

‘It is to be only a semblance of a marriage,' she explained to him. ‘Though it's my belief that folks will make a scandal of whatever they wish.' He nodded understandingly.

No mention was made of her pregnancy so she was surprised when Ruari Mhon came into the kitchen one day and asked unexpectedly, ‘When is your bairn due?'

She was a little taken aback by the directness of the question. ‘Oh, any time now,' she told him. ‘Mairi Jane will be willing to come over to Westisle to see me through the birth. She assures me she has had plenty of practice.'

He went to the door and looked out to sea. He called Jamie who was doing some weeding in Kirsty's vegetable garden and pointed out to him a large black dolphin-shaped cloud hovering in the pale grey of the sky. ‘I am not liking the look of it,' he said. ‘We had best go now and fetch Mairi Jane.'

‘Not yet,' she called after them, but they were already out of earshot.

By the time Mairi Jane arrived the wind was already tearing at the clouds and by evening there was a full gale.

‘My, my, but you did well to send for me when you did,' said Mairi Jane, divesting herself of her oilskin. ‘This could blow for a week or more and I'm thinking you may not last that long.'

‘I didn't send for you,' Kirsty was quick to tell her. ‘It was Ruari Mhon himself who made up his mind to go for you. I couldn't stop him.'

‘He is a wise man,' said Mairi Jane. ‘He knows the sea and the sky and many another thing besides.'

Four days later when the gale was punching at the roof and lashing the sea to a white frenzy Kirsty's son was born. There were no complications and when Mairi Jane put the child into her arms Kirsty experienced an undreamed-of rapture. Oh, if only Ruari Beag could have known! If only he could have shared this moment with her. Tears filled her eyes as she chided herself for not having told him earlier. She had cheated him of the knowledge that she was to bear his child and a wave of depression swept over her as she recalled the inadequacy of her loving.

Mairi Jane came into the room bringing a tray of tea and scones. She sat on the bed and asked tenderly, ‘What name is the bairn to have?'

‘I suppose I shall call him Ruari after his father but for his second name I will call him Donny, after my Uncle Donny who died when I was young. He was sent to a Home at the same time as I was sent to the city. He died at the Home and it has always troubled me that I was never able to say goodbye to him.'

Mairi Jane nodded. ‘Ruari Mhor will welcome another Ruari and Donny is a nice enough name,' she approved.

Jamie was keen to greet his step-brother while Ruari Mhor, who had shown little interest in her confinement beyond making sure Mairi Jane was on hand to help, produced a beautiful cradle he had made from driftwood almost as soon as he'd heard the baby's first cry; and thereafter he had doted on the child as if it had been his own. When the bairn outgrew the cradle he constructed a cot and also a harness so the child could be carried easily over the moors. He fenced a small area of grass which he kept well scythed so that when ‘Wee Ruari' had reached the crawling and then toddling stage there was no fear of him wandering too far away.

Kirsty experienced a tremendous fulfilment as she sat in the sun one day watching her bairn calling babyishly to Jamie and ‘Yewyy' from his enclosure. They were a family, she told herself, even if two of its members were a little spurious.

When ‘Wee Ruari' had progressed to a fairly sturdy toddler it was Ruari Mhor he insisted on following about and, glimpsing the big man coming home with the boy riding his broad shoulders, Kirsty would sometimes be aware of a strange surge of tenderness towards her dour brother-in-law. But she thought it was because of his obvious devotion to her child.

‘He is growing fast,' observed Ruari Mhor one day. ‘I am after thinking it will not be long before he will be needing to go to school.'

‘Oh, not for a year or two yet,' Kirsty was quick to remind him. ‘He is only past five years old just.'

‘He's mighty eager to learn,' put in Jamie. ‘When I was mending the creels the other day he wanted to try netting and I tell you he soon got the knack of it once I'd shown him how it was done. I believe his fingers are near as nimble as my own.'

‘I believe he has the makings of a good scholar,' Ruari Mhon remarked, his tone disapproving Jamie's statement.

‘I don't want to even think about him going to school yet,' Kirsty said.

‘There are many things that need to be thought about,' Ruari Mhon reminded her, ‘and time is for ever in a hurry. It will not wait.'

He spoke so solemnly that she flashed a curious glance at him, suspecting that his back might be troubling him. But she daren't to make mention of it.

Following upon the death of his brother, Ruari Mhon's zeal for fishing had flagged noticeably. It was to be expected, Kirsty thought. Not only had they been brothers but they had shared the close companionship of the sea. It would need the solace of time to mitigate his suffering.

Though he and Jamie had resumed lobster fishing it was not the compulsive occupation it had been in the past. Now it was Jamie who was the more eager to be off in the early mornings and as time went by it was becoming increasingly evident that it had become Jamie's task to see to the maintenance of the boat. Weather which Ruari Mhor would have disregarded when he was fishing with his brother now frequently made him question the wisdom of going to sea. Even the trips to the mainland to dispose of their catch and to take Kirsty's eggs, he sometimes murmured against disgruntedly.

Though, as Kirsty had hoped, the birth of her child had manifestly reanimated his spirits for a time and watching ‘Wee Ruari' grow undoubtedly provided him with a good deal of pleasure, as the seasons passed it became plain that her brother-in-law was no longer the indefatigable man she had known. When the time for outside work on the croft came round he tended to lean on his spade and let Jamie do most of the digging, saying jokingly that it was high time the boy learned to use his strength, and though his manner towards herself still remained guarded he ceased to actually spurn her offers of help. She began to worry about him. After all, he was not an old man, she reminded herself. She voiced her concern to Jamie.

‘Your uncle seems to be falling back in health again, Jamie. Do you think he is relapsing into grief over Ruari Beag's passing?'

‘He is not the man he was,' Jamie conceded. ‘I too am worried about him.'

‘He wouldn't have had any mishap on board the boat, would he? I mean he hasn't strained himself hauling creels or anything like that?'

‘Not to my knowledge,' said Jamie. ‘But I reckon he is poorly. He stumbles a lot and he has dizzy fits sometimes when we're hauling.' He looked at her. ‘A boat is no place for a dizzy man to be,' he added meaningfully.

‘Would his back be troubling him again?' Jamie nodded gravely. ‘Do you still walk his back for him?' she asked.

‘As often as he asks me,' Jamie confirmed. ‘And I hate to tell you how much bigger the lump is getting.'

‘Lump!' echoed Kirsty agitatedly. ‘I knew nothing of any lump. What do you suppose is causing that?'

‘I don't know. He says it's nothing at all but I am sure it should not be there. I believe he is sometimes in great pain with it. He moans and groans during the night but when I ask him about it he says he was only snoring likely and that I must not speak to you of it.'

‘What can we do, Jamie? He is so thrawn and will not hear of me getting a doctor, nor even a nurse to take a look at him.'

Jamie misinterpreting her question said, ‘Myself will speak to Euan Ally about coming fishing with me. He's a good fisherman and not lacking in strength.'

‘You don't think your uncle's illness is bad enough for that?' she asked despairingly.

Jamie did not spare her. ‘I reckon the time is not all that far off when he will have to forsake the sea. I think he's beginning to know that for himself. If not, one of us must tell him.'

She looked at him aghast. ‘Dear God!' she moaned. ‘It will kill him to be told that. Who will tell him?'

‘I think you should tell him,' said Jaime. ‘You understand him.'

‘Not I!' she caught her breath, momentarily shocked. ‘I have never understood him, Jamie!' she declared.

Jamie regarded her sadly for a few moments before saying, ‘If it will kill him to be told, it will, just as surely kill him not to be told,' he warned her. ‘Together we must find a way to do it so that it will not wound him too much.' He paused. ‘I am thinking I shall speak to Euan Ally about such things when next I see him.'

But it was Ruari Mhon himself who solved their dilemma.

A spell of wild weather followed their conversation, making fishing impossible. Kirsty was relieved since in such weather Ruari Mhor stayed in his bed for much of the day and though she knew he was ill the fact that he was in his bed was slightly less worrying for her than if he was out fishing. She was also relieved that she did not need to take hay to the cattle. When he was not at sea, Jamie always insisted on doing that and now they were a family of four they brought home two milking cows each night, separating them from their calves so she could easily milk them in the mornings.

Kirsty was busy making butter one day during the wild spell when Ruari Mhon came into the kitchen and sat in his chair beside the fire. ‘Wee, Ruari' immediately claimed his attention, anxiously offering him a mug of buttermilk. She'd seen her brother-in-law previously quaff a mug of buttermilk in one draught but today the hand holding the mug was trembling and he was drinking the milk slowly sip by sip. He looked across at her, and saw her watching him. With clumsy haste he attempted to put the mug down on the hob. There was a sizzle as some of the milk splashed on the fire.

‘Wee Ruari' flinched away. ‘Ach now, see you've filled the mug too full for Uncle Ruari,' Kirsty reproved him gently. ‘Just because you like full mugs it doesn't mean everyone else does. You should have drunk some out of it first.'

‘Ach, no, no indeed,' murmured Ruari Mhor consolingly. ‘It is just that my hands have got so used to hauling in creels they treat everything else the same way.' He reached out an arm and pulled the child towards him. They smiled dotingly at each other.

A few minutes later they heard Jamie returning from the cattle and ‘Wee Ruari' rushed out to meet him.

‘The lad is gey fond of Jamie,' Ruari Mhor remarked.

‘He is so,' agreed Kirsty. ‘And Jamie is gey fond of “Wee Ruari”. He has such patience with the boy. It does my heart good to see the care he takes of the child.'

‘And it is likely he will take great care of you when the time comes,' he observed.

Jamie and ‘Wee Ruari' came into the kitchen, ‘Wee Ruari' proudly carrying a freshly shot rabbit.

‘You took the gun?' Ruari Mhon looked at Jamie.

‘Aye, I did. There's a deal of rabbits over by there. We could do with some guns from the mainland soon to take a few pots at them or we'll get over-run surely.' He shrugged out of his oilskin. ‘They'll be keen enough to come I'm thinking.'

‘I doubt they will,' agreed Ruari Mhon. ‘Euan Ally was asking me last time he was out with us on the boat just if I'd be willing for him to have a day's shooting over here.'

Kirsty and Jamie exchanged a swift glance.

‘You'd be willing for him to come?' Jamie asked his uncle eagerly. Ruari Mhon nodded. ‘Will I tell him next time I see him?'

‘You will tell him,' said Ruari Mhon. ‘He is one that we can trust and he is wise enough.' His voice seemed to scratch the syllables as he spoke slowly as if is thoughts were smudged by vagueness. But his meaning was clean enough.

Jamie went over and tapped the barometer. ‘The glass is going up,' he reported. ‘We should be back at sea soon enough. Maybe tomorrow.'

Kirsty, bending down to pick up the churn and take it through to the scullery, thought she caught an expression of anguish flit across her brother-in-law's face but he made no comment.

‘I will take the churn for you,' Jamie offered. She followed him through to the scullery and when they returned to the kitchen Ruari Mhor was rising from his chair but seeing them he slumped back into it.

‘When you speak to Euan Ally tell him there is likely a job going on the boat. Myself is thinking of taking a wee rest from the fishing for a whiley.' He tried a halfhearted chuckle. ‘I feel hard of leaving my bed in the early mornings.'

Kirsty and Jamie exchanged panic-stricken glances. Could Ruari Mhor have overheard their discussion? Nevertheless his admission gave Kirsty her chance to plead: ‘Ruari Mhor, you have a sickness and I am worried about you. You are having no medicine and I beg you to let me get you a doctor. You will not be able to go fishing until your strength is built up. Please, Ruari Mhor. You must not let illness take away your strength.'

His expression hardened. ‘You will not speak to me again of calling a doctor.' His tone was reprimanding. ‘If the Lord chooses He will give me back my strength.' Getting up from his chair he shuffled slowly out of the kitchen and as the door closed behind him she and Jamie stared at each other, helplessly shaking their heads.

‘He is throwing his life away just,' Jamie croaked.

‘I believe that's the way of it,' Kirsty moaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘There is nothing we can do,' she murmured.

‘I will bring Euan Ally across next time I see him,' Jamie said. ‘I will tell him it is for a short time just but I reckon he already is wise to what is happening to my Uncle Ruari. Many folks have been saying they don't like the look of him.' He went to the door and stood looking at the unsettled sky. When he came back into the kitchen he asked her, ‘You will welcome Euan Ally?'