The Sound of Whales (16 page)

Fraser looked at the scallops, remembered watching his brother drop the shells from the clifftop. ‘They're probably Dunny's, they're his tell shells.'

‘There's a word written on one of them. It says,
Come
.'

Fraser snorted. ‘That was yesterday. Maybe he wanted help paddling the dinghy.'

‘You mock Dunny but he sees things the rest of us do not.'

More than you imagine, Fraser thought. He was not yet ready to speak of
gairmies
.

‘Do not lose your brother, Fraser,' Jonah said. ‘Like I lost mine.'

‘You'll find him again.'

They approached the ruined building and two empty windows high up in the walls were like black eyes watching them come closer. The stones of the castle were mottled grey with dark mortar in between. No stone was the same size or shape and it was a marvel of early construction that they all fitted together, creating a smooth facade. The roof of the keep was gone, the upper section collapsing, nothing much remaining of its ornate chimney and the circular windows that had protruded from each top corner.

‘Go in,' Fraser said, pointing to the dark entrance.

‘Are there ghosts?'

‘I'm sure of it,' he said with a smile.

Jonah looked around him at the shell of the building with light pouring in from high above but the ground level all shadows and dark corners and alcoves. ‘In Lesotho the spirits of the dead are our guides through this earthly world. We do not fear them.'

‘It's not the ghosts you have to worry about. Keep an eye open for anyone snooping around. There is a good hiding place over here if you need one.' Fraser crossed the rough floor and pointed to a narrow crack in the wall. ‘It's a bit of a squeeze, but get in there and there's a space between the two walls. You can follow it round and there's a window high up to climb out of in an emergency. But just keep out of sight and you will be fine. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

‘Thank you again.'

‘You'll be fine,' Fraser repeated, trying to convince himself that this plan might work.

‘Of course I will. Look at me.' Jonah spread his long arms wide. ‘I am a king in his castle.'

The image that Fraser saw as he turned to leave was far from regal; there were no robes or crown or court. Just a tired man far from home, depending on an island boy for his deliverance.

CHAPTER 28

H
ayley pulled her quilt up to her chin, wallowing in the warmth, savouring the sleepiness. Previously this bed settee, as the natives called it, had been uncomfortable, the room draughty, the cottage cold and creaking, but now it was the cosiest place in the world and Hayley had no intention of going anywhere today. Not unless her mom told her they were off to catch the ferry that would take them to the bus that would carry them to the train that would take them to the airport to catch a flight back to civilization. Beneath the duvet she curled her toes and hunkered down.

From the bedroom she heard the sound of her mother's voice. She was talking on the phone.

‘I know it's the middle of the night,' her mom said.

She was talking with someone back in the States.

‘I'm close
 . . . 
yeah, I'm sure of it
 . . . 
there's someone on the island
 . . . 
I'm checking boat registrations
 . . . 
it's a big yacht
 . . .
'

Her mom was investigating; Hayley recognized the tone of voice: blunt, persistent, demanding. But what was she investigating?

‘It's here
 . . . 
I just need to probe a bit deeper
 . . .
'

Hayley felt herself drift deliciously off to sleep again.

‘Call it what you like, it's people trafficking pure and simple
 . . .
'

Hayley was awake. She sat up in bed, listened again but now there was silence. The bedroom door opened and her mom appeared.

‘You're up,' Sarah said. ‘How do you feel?'

Hayley collapsed back on to the mattress. ‘Tired.'

‘Well, of course you're tired. Very nearly drowning has that effect. It tires you out.'

Hayley stared at the ceiling. ‘I know, Mom, I've said I'm sorry.'

‘And this is a girl who wanted to quit the swim team last semester.'

‘OK, I get it.'

Sarah went back into her bedroom and Hayley sat up again. Her mom was investigating people trafficking. What did she know about the individuals involved? Who did she suspect? Did she know already that Jonah was on the island?

When her mom reappeared Hayley asked, ‘Who were you talking to on the phone?'

Sarah gave her a quizzical look. ‘Just one of my sources back in the States. Why?'

‘No reason.' There was a pause as Sarah collected some of her things. ‘You're investigating people trafficking?' Hayley asked.

‘You were listening?'

‘They're thin walls.'

‘I'm investigating people trafficking and forced migration and
 . . . 
and you know all this already.'

‘Why here? Why this island?'

Sarah pondered for a moment then said, ‘Get dressed and I'll show you.'

Twenty minutes later Hayley was dressed and following her mother along the coast road through Skulavaig. A low wall ran above a beach that was different this side of the harbour. There was no sand here, just rocks and shingle and breaking waves that made a harsher sound, as if the ocean had to try harder to wash up the pebbles. The road was quiet, the town was quiet, though there were people on the move, heading to church.

‘Where are we going, Mom?' she asked one more time. Her mom had been deliberately evasive.

‘We're almost there.'

The coastal road curved around, houses on one side, the sea on the other. Hayley saw a large church building that faced the ocean. It was made of red stone like the cliffs and had a tall steeple with a cross at the top.

‘Oh, you're kidding me,' she said. ‘We're going to
church
?'

‘We've a lot to be thankful for. And we need a little guidance. But that's not why we're here.'

At the church Hayley read the sign on the wall: C
HAPEL OF
S
T
N
INIAN
. ‘But we're Southern Baptist, we're not Catholic.'

They walked up the steps to the door.

‘The service doesn't begin for half an hour. There's something I want to show you.'

‘Have you been here before?' Hayley asked.

‘I have. And keep your voice down.'

The foyer of the church was chilly and their footsteps rang on the stone floor. Candles flickered and there was the sweet smell of incense. In the nave the floor was tiled in an intricate pattern and there were pillars either side and pews that ran the length of the long hall. Sarah walked down the nave and Hayley followed, noticed several people sitting with heads bowed and a few with faces raised, admiring their surroundings. At the end of the nave were steps up to the chancel, with a table and pulpit for the priest. And on the far wall, impossible to miss, was a large colourful mural. A man with robes and a beard stood holding a cross to the sky. Behind him was green land and blue sea and above his head swooped a mighty eagle. It was all gilded in gold so that it sparkled in the candlelight.

‘Who is that?' Hayley asked.

‘That is St Ninian. The island of Nin is named after him.'

‘And who was St Ninian?'

‘He was a missionary in the fifth century who helped convert Scotland to Christianity. He was supposed to possess special powers. Today people come here on a pilgrimage, especially if they're ill or dying. Ninian was reputed to have the power to heal.'

Hayley felt something jolt in her stomach, like a lung had dropped or a kidney exploded. ‘Oh, God, Mom, what's wrong with you? Is that why we're here?'

Sarah laughed and then said, ‘No, that's not why we're here. I'm fine.' She saw Hayley's panicked look. ‘Seriously, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that I needed healing.'

Hayley wasn't completely convinced. ‘So why
are
we here?'

Sarah took a seat on a pew with a red cushion.

Hayley sat down beside her, asked again, ‘Why are we here, Mom?'

‘I wanted to show you the mural.'

‘I meant, why are we here on this island? It can't only be to get away from Dad. There are a million secluded places on the planet we could have gone, places with hot tubs and hot boys and cable.'

‘I told you, I'm researching my book.'

‘About people trafficking?'

‘That's part of it.'

‘So why here?' Hayley was fishing but she had to do it carefully. ‘Why is Nin so interesting?'

‘My book is about people who leave their home and travel on long journeys to distant lands where they are not made welcome.'

‘Illegal aliens, you mean?'

‘Yes, though my book is more about what it means to be alien, not just what it means to be illegal. There are thousands and thousands of people right now who are being trafficked around the world. My book is their story.'

Hayley thought of Jonah in his cave, wondered, did her mom know he was coming?

Sarah continued, ‘One of my contacts during his journey reported seeing a picture on a wall of a saint and an eagle. It took me a while but I finally tracked it down.' Sarah nodded at the mural. ‘As strange as it seems, the journey from Africa to England passes through Skulavaig.'

But to Hayley it didn't seem strange, not now that she had met Jonah, a man on a similar journey. There was a connection here, this was not coincidence, and Hayley imagined how excited her mom would be to actually meet and talk to someone in the process of journeying, a man who was almost there. And yet she had made a promise to Jonah to tell no one of his presence on the island.

Sarah said, ‘I'm here to discover why this island is involved in people trafficking. And maybe, if we know more about it, we can do something about it.'

They said nothing for a few moments. Hayley heard proper silence for the first time in a long while. No creaking roof beams, no breaking waves, no wind, no seagulls. She thought of Dunny.

And she tried to make sense of all that her mother had told her. Her mother would be investigating people trafficking not for drama and scandal but because she could change things for the good. That was how her mom operated; she wrote about issues where she could change things, make a difference.

How, then, could she not tell her mom of another African come to Nin; this one close by, this one still journeying, this one in need of help, which her mother could give. But she had made a promise to Jonah.

What to do?

Hayley's head hurt from thinking about it.

What to tell?

‘Let's go,' her mom said. ‘Before the service begins.'

The church was filling up with worshippers. Hayley followed her mom back down the nave and they passed the Dunbar family sitting on a pew. Her mom said hello and Hayley caught Fraser's look of astonishment. She avoided eye contact, worried her face might reveal her dilemma. They went out through the foyer and squinted in the bright sunlight as they left the church.

Her mom looked at the shimmering ocean. ‘It's so peaceful and pretty compared to last night.'

‘Every day is like this. It's a storm, then sun, then a storm, then sun.'

‘Shall we go for a walk?'

‘I suppose.'

‘Which way?'

Hayley looked to her right. The coastal road led to the marina and she had never been to that bit of the island. She looked left. The road wound back to the beach and cliffs and there, somewhere, was Jonah with his story. Her mom had never been to
that
bit of the island.

‘Which way, honey?' her mom repeated.

Hayley stared at the ocean and gazed at the sky and tried to decide.

CHAPTER 29

T
he voice of the priest echoed around the church as Fraser shifted again on the pew, trying to get comfortable. It was hard enough to concentrate on the sermon at the best of times. Now he had the vision of Hayley Risso coming down the aisle with a troubled look and her eyes to the floor. Why had she been in church and what was she up to now?

He couldn't answer those questions stuck in here. And he still had to find Ben and arrange Jonah's escape. None of that was going to happen if the priest didn't bring his interminable sermon to an end. Fraser looked at his family sitting to his left. His mum was listening intently and nodding occasionally. His dad was nodding as well, but only when his eyelids closed and he jerked himself awake. Dunny sat with his head cocked slightly, his bottom lip jutting, as if he was calculating some great mathematical equation in his head.

What was he thinking? What did he know? What did the whales know? What were the whales telling Dunny?

Fraser smiled at the thought and suddenly the congregation were on their feet and his mother was pulling him up for the closing prayer. At last. When the service was finished, the parishioners moved as one for the exit but she lingered for a chat with the priest, holding on to Dunny's arm. Fraser's dad sighed and sat back down.

‘I'll be back for lunch,' Fraser said to his mum, then darted for the door.

‘Come back, please,' he heard his mother say, along with a stern, ‘Fraser,' from his dad. He pretended not to hear, skipped in front of a couple of stragglers and fell out of the door into the sunlight. He had escaped.

He jogged down the narrow streets of Skulavaig, his footsteps echoing on the empty road. On a Sunday morning there was a slow movement of people to and from church but there was no other reason to stray from your home. Everything was shut, the ferry didn't run, cars stayed parked, even the nine-hole golf course was closed. Fraser had always thought this madness; everywhere else in the world golf courses were busiest on a Sunday.

When he reached the harbour he discovered to his dismay that the
Moby Dick
was gone. He stood and stared at the empty water enclosed by the old stones, a floating rainbow of oil the only indication that Ben had been here. Ben was the most important part of his plan to save Jonah and without him the plan couldn't get started.

‘Gone to the marina,' said a voice from behind him.

Fraser turned to see one of the old fishermen standing by the mission, waiting for it to open. Even the mission was supposed to stay shut on a Sunday but a blind eye was turned to the few who sneaked in for a game of darts and a sly dram.

‘Thanks,' Fraser said and went back up to the road. He glanced at his house, thought that perhaps he wouldn't be home for lunch after all.

The marina was a twenty-minute walk along the coast road. Fraser half walked, half jogged past the nice houses that looked over the water. He saw a couple of policemen by front doors, questioning the islanders. It made him quicken his pace. The houses petered out and the road narrowed until it was single track. The land was boggy and speckled with small pools of water. Long gashes in the ground were the scars of peat cutting. Small, whitewashed crofts lay scattered across the bleak landscape.

A couple of cars passed him. Visitors to the island; locals would have stopped and offered him a ride. He reached an old sign that said M
ARINA
and followed the rough road down the hill to the water. In a small bay were a series of long, metal jetties. A solitary building, marked M
ARINE
C
HANDLER
, stood at the side. Four yachts were tied up against the jetties, including Willie McGregor's big one, and the
Moby Dick
nudged the far end of the furthest pier. The boat chandler was one of the few businesses that opened on a Sunday, along with the hotel and the churches, but this morning there was no sign of life.

Fraser walked down the jetty, his feet clanging on the metal, the sound echoing around the sheltered bay. Ben appeared from the cabin of the
Moby Dick
as Fraser reached the boat.

‘What are you doing here?' he asked, looking at the shore as if expecting to see parents or American girls or harbour masters.

‘I need to speak to you.'

‘You've walked all the way from town just to speak to me. Can it not wait?'

‘No, not really.'

Ben stood by the gunwale but didn't invite Fraser aboard.

‘After last night I thought you'd have had your fill of boats and oceans. You should be in your bed recovering.'

‘I don't have time for that. This is important.'

‘Well, I don't have time either, I'm busy.'

‘Doing what?'

‘Things. I'm doing things. None of your business.'

Fraser watched the scientist sigh and squeeze his forehead, reckoned it was a hangover making Ben grumpy. It couldn't be him personally, not now, not any more, not when there had been orcas. ‘I need your help,' he said.

Ben sighed again, said, ‘Come on board.'

Fraser hopped on to the deck, stood there hesitantly, wondered how to begin.

‘What kind of help?' Ben asked.

‘I need your help to take a friend of mine to the mainland.'

‘Why?'

‘Because there's no other way of getting there.'

‘Are you and Hayley eloping?'

‘It's nothing like that! This is serious. My friend needs to get off the island without anyone seeing him.'

‘And why is that?'

Fraser took in a large gulp of air and then came out with it. ‘His name is Jonah. He's from Africa. He's here illegally. He saved my life and I promised to help him. He's heading for London but he needs to get off the island. There are people looking for him. I thought you could take him in your boat.'

He took another gulp and they stood in silence as Ben digested the information.

Eventually Ben said, ‘Is he connected to the dead guy?'

‘Aye, they knew each other.'

The stunned look on Ben's face became a frown.

‘Was it your friend who stole my knife?'

‘I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe.'

‘And you want me to help him?'

‘I promised. He saved my life.'

‘How?'

‘Last night. He pulled me from the ocean.'

‘Jesus. I thought you swam to shore.'

‘No. I would have drowned. And we wouldn't be standing here this morning. I'd be dead and you'd be in jail, drunk in charge of a boat.'

‘Bloody hell.' Ben contemplated the ocean. ‘How long have you known about this man?'

‘A few days. Since he swam to shore.'

‘And you didn't think to tell me.'

‘It wasn't my place to tell.'

‘Who else knows about him?'

‘Just Hayley. And Dunny.'

‘And where is he now?'

‘In the castle on the cliff.'

Ben gave a wry laugh. ‘Bloody hell.'

‘He was in one of the caves at first but there are folk snooping around, so I thought he best move somewhere else.'

‘Who's snooping?'

‘Willie McGregor, for one. I don't trust the man, he's up to something.'

‘Willie is always up to something. Him and that bloody harbour master. Thick as thieves, those two.'

Fraser gave a slight gasp at the thought. Was it possible that Mr Wallace was also involved, that people trafficking off the west coast of Scotland was an inside job? What better cover for smuggling in Africans than a harbour master keeping watch from his window and seeing nothing.

‘Why does he want to go to London?'

‘He has a brother there. They had a falling out ages ago. Now his brother's in trouble and he's trying to help.'

‘That sounds like a sob story to me.'

‘No, he's telling the truth.'

‘You know him better than me.'

Fraser knew hardly anything, but that didn't matter. ‘Will you help?'

Ben pondered for a moment, frowned slightly, but then smiled and shrugged. ‘Sure, why not? I owe you one. I never believed you about the orcas.'

Fraser felt a giant weight lift instantly from his shoulders. With Ben helping he could keep his promise. ‘Thank you, Ben. But I can't bring him here, he'll be seen. The harbour is too public as well. There are policemen wandering around.'

Ben pondered again, said, ‘There's an old jetty just beyond the castle. You could bring him there.'

‘Can we sail this afternoon?'

‘Best wait until tomorrow. That will give us a full day to get there and back. I'll be at the jetty in an hour and your African friend can bunk down on the boat tonight.'

‘That would be brilliant.' Fraser gave a deep sigh. The plan was coming together.

All they had to do was avoid the bad guys, whoever they were, for one more day.