The Sound of Whales (4 page)

CHAPTER 5

F
raser sat on the crumbling stones of Nin Castle and looked out over the ocean. The castle had been a ruin for a century and a half, abandoned when the last laird of Nin had died without an heir. Whoever had built it had chosen a good defensive position, but Fraser reckoned they had also loved the view. The air was warm, filled with the aroma of salt and seaweed. It was more than a scent; it was a memory, as if he had indeed crawled from the sea a billion years before. Not an idea he would bring up when the priest next visited the house.

He had been sent to find his brother and bring him home. Dunny was usually on the beach somewhere but there was no sign of him. That meant he was up on the cliff or in the castle.

Fraser and Dunny had spent a lot of time in Nin Castle; it was their playground when they were younger. In the crumbling walls were nooks that led to small dark chambers and worn stone steps that took you down to dark passageways that led nowhere. The roof was gone and light spilt in from the top but the castle floor was always dim. It was perfect for hide and seek and Dunny was always better at the game; he could disappear behind a wall or up a chimney and it would take Fraser an age to find him. Whenever Fraser hid, Dunny always seemed to know exactly where he was.

Today Fraser couldn't be bothered playing games. It seemed childish and Dunny was just annoying. Still, Dunny had to be found and shouting for him never worked. The best way to find his brother was by sneaking up on him.

Fraser scampered low along the ground towards the tower, crawled the last few metres until he came to a small wall. He edged around it and darted across to a doorway, ducked down and crept inside. He hugged the wall, staying in the shadows, paused and listened. From the corner of his eye he saw a flash of movement across the doorway. He scuttled to the entrance and peered out, enjoying the chase now that it was on. He crawled back to the low wall, could hear shallow breathing from the other side. Dunny was losing his touch. He threw himself over the ragged stones crying, ‘Got you,' and landed on top of the American girl.

‘Get off me,' Hayley cried.

Fraser rolled over and sat up. ‘You.'

‘Are you trying to kill me?'

If the first impression he had made earlier was lame, the second might be classed as criminal assault. Fraser held up his hands. ‘Sorry, I thought you were Dunny.'

‘Do I look like a small, weird Scottish boy?'

‘Less of the weird, he
is
my brother.'

‘Well, I'm not him.'

They sat on the grass, both frowning, Hayley looking at the castle and Fraser at the ocean.

‘Have you seen him?' Fraser asked.

‘I saw him earlier today but not recently.'

‘He's around here somewhere. Probably watching us and laughing.'

‘What is this place?'

‘It's an old castle.'

‘Well I get that, but is it real?'

‘Of course it's real. This isn't Hogwarts.'

‘It's a bit of a ruin.'

‘That's because it's old.'

‘How old?'

‘Auld, sae very auld,' he said, putting on a Highland burr. ‘I dinnae ken exactly.'

From her quizzical look it was clear that she hadn't understood.

‘I don't know exactly,' he said by way of translation.

‘It's your accent.'

She was still proving difficult to like. ‘It's not my accent you can't understand, it's my dialect.'

‘OK, whatever.'

Fraser thought to himself,
I've just been whatevered by an American girl
. A bit of him was outraged, a bit of him thought it was pretty cool.

‘So why are you sneaking around an old ruined castle?' she asked. ‘I saw you.'

‘Why do you care?'

‘It's very strange, that's all.'

‘And who made you the judge of all things strange?'

‘I'm surrounded by it, it's hard to miss.'

He snorted. She was implying that he was as strange as his brother.

‘It's just a game Dunny and I play. A kind of hide-and-seek.'

‘Well, I found him last night, so it would seem I'm better at it than you.' The girl looked behind her, along the path to the lip of the cliff. ‘He was standing over there, on the edge, in the storm.'

‘Aye, I heard. My mum and dad were out looking for him as well.'

‘At least one of us got to stay in bed.'

Fraser didn't want the girl thinking he was safely tucked under the duvet while everyone else was out in the storm. ‘Everyone thinks I was in bed, but
 . . .
' He shook his head.

‘Where were you?'

He pointed towards the ocean. ‘Out there.'

‘Swimming?'

‘No, I was on Ben McCaig's boat.'

‘Who is Ben McCaig?'

‘You met him this morning on the beach. By the dead whale.'

‘Why were you on his boat?'

‘We were trying to find a pod of pilot whales.'

‘In the middle of a storm?'

‘Aye. It seems a bit daft now.'

‘And your mom and dad thought you were in bed?'

Fraser suddenly panicked. He had divulged information to a girl he didn't know and didn't like. ‘You can't tell anyone.'

‘Who would I tell?'

‘My mum. Your mum.'

‘I don't know your mom and I've kept bigger secrets than that from mine. Much bigger than stupid sailing stories, believe me.'

‘Well,
my
mum doesn't need to know there were two of us out in the storm last night.'

The girl gave a rueful laugh. ‘There were five of us out in the storm: your family and me. We all got wet.'

‘Six, actually.'

‘Ben the whale man.'

Fraser had forgotten about Ben. ‘Seven.'

‘Who else?'

He looked in the direction of the sea, so different now from a day ago. He had a burden to share, a story to tell that none believed and it seemed important that someone else heard, even if it was an infuriating American girl. There was no one else to tell.

‘I may have imagined it, but when I was out in the boat last night I thought
 . . .
' He paused, rubbed his chin.

‘What?' she asked, suddenly interested in his stupid sailing stories.

‘I thought I saw somebody in the water. I thought I heard a cry for help.'

‘What did you do?'

‘Nothing. Ben wouldn't believe me. He thought I had imagined it. It
was
dark. It was some storm.'

For the first time there was something soft in the girl's voice. ‘But
you
don't think you imagined it.'

‘It doesn't matter now anyway. It's just a bit
 . . . 
strange, that's all.'

‘As I said already, this town is a bit strange. You're a bit strange.'

‘Thanks.'

There was no venom in this insult, she laughed when she said it. Fraser looked at her, noted how pretty she was, tried not to be intimidated by it. There were a few pretty girls in his school but he couldn't think of any with blonde hair. Not that the dark-haired ones or the red-haired ones gave him much of their time. Girls were all a bit of a mystery to Fraser, intriguing, yes, a puzzle to be solved, but he wished there was some textbook that offered all the answers at the back.

‘What are you doing up here anyway?' he asked.

‘I was following you. There's nothing much else to do on this island except take a walk. I thought you might be going somewhere interesting. I was wrong.'

‘You don't think an old ruined castle is interesting?'

‘Not really. Just kind of creepy.'

‘Well, Nin has other delights on offer,' Fraser said. ‘We have a nine-hole golf course, there's the marina, a lighthouse on the north coast
 . . .
'

‘I've left my golf clubs back in Texas,' she said sarcastically.

They both laughed and for a moment it seemed that the ice, if not yet broken, had perhaps melted a sliver at the edge. Fraser thought he should venture another stab at friendly conversation. Deep down she was probably a lovely girl. Deep, deep down. Way down deep.

‘So how are you finding Scotland?' he asked. ‘It's a long way from Texas.'

Hayley sighed. ‘It is a very long way, but my mom is writing a book about people far from home and seems to think
we
need to be far from home to do it. There are other reasons we're here as well.'

Fraser waited for her to continue but it became clear she wasn't going to say any more. He could tell from the way she chewed her bottom lip and stared into space that there
was
some other reason why this girl and her mother had travelled across an ocean to a different continent, then washed up on a small island on its far edge.

‘Well, I better find Dunny I suppose,' he said after a moment.

He looked at the castle tower, lit by the afternoon sun, each weathered stone a different shade of grey. ‘He's in there somewhere.'

‘What's the deal with your brother? Why doesn't he speak?'

Fraser shrugged. ‘He just chooses not to, never has. He's called an elective mute.'

‘Which is just another way of saying,
weird
.'

Fraser shook his head and wondered if the girl realized just how rude she could be. Was it an American thing? Was it a girl thing? Was it just a Hayley Risso thing?

‘He's mildly autistic, if that's what you mean. We don't call them weird any more.'

If he expected an apology, none came. Instead Hayley said, ‘He gave me this last night.' She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a scallop shell. ‘Right there on the edge of a cliff in the middle of a storm, he hands me a shell.'

Fraser took the shell from her and examined it. ‘Another one. He's been doing this lately. Sometimes he writes on them.'

‘What's it for?'

He flipped the shell over, flipped it back. ‘My mother calls it a “tell shell”, some kind of island tradition. People used to send messages to one another.'

‘What kind of message?'

‘No idea. Load of nonsense.'

He threw the scallop towards the castle wall. It hit the old stones and shattered.

‘I might have wanted that,' Hayley said.

‘It's just a shell.'

The girl stood and said, ‘Well, I'm going home.' She paused. ‘God, I've just called that ridiculous little cottage “home”.' She gave an anguished sigh and walked away. After a few steps she stopped and turned. ‘Oh, and FYI, there might be someone hiding in the big cave down there. Thought you should know in case he's kidnapped your brother or something.'

‘What do you mean?' Fraser asked, startled, but the girl strode off down the path and was gone.

He faced the castle again and his brother was there, standing under a shadowed archway like a phantom. Fraser sighed in relief that he was found, imagined some laird's son from centuries past plunging from the high cliff and only now returning, a pale ghost haunting the castle, moving through its dark, ruined rooms in silence.

‘Time to go home, Dunny,' he said, but he knew that this place, this cliff, beach and ocean, was the only place Dunny seemed truly at home.

CHAPTER 6

H
ayley stood on the beach and stared at the endless ocean. She was stuck on this island, an Alcatraz of sorts, only wetter and with less chance of escape. And nobody ever escaped from Alcatraz.

She took out her phone, turned her back to the sea and snapped a picture of herself. Later she would post the photograph on every one of her profiles and home pages, along with a challenge to her friends. She was alone on a beach, on an island where she knew no one, in a country far away from everything she understood. Could anyone she knew post a pic that was a more of a
selfie
than that?

She climbed up from the beach on to the harbour wall and saw her mom. Sarah was talking to the whale man. He was good-looking in that older, stubble-on-chin, broad-shouldered way that boys her age couldn't muster. She moved up the jetty and her mom saw her.

‘Hi, Hayley,' she said. ‘Ben was just telling me that you saw a dead whale this morning.'

‘It was gross.'

The man laughed. ‘I prefer them alive myself.'

‘Do you see many?' Sarah asked.

Ben nodded enthusiastically. ‘This season has been amazing, actually. I've seen a bunch of minke whales, pilot whales, dolphins, harbour porpoises, a sei whale. And then
 . . .
' He paused for a moment and looked at the ocean, smiled slightly. ‘I recorded a sperm whale. Can you believe it?'

‘That
is
amazing,' Sarah said.

Hayley blew a snort of disbelief. Her mom wouldn't know a sperm whale if it flopped on to the sea wall and introduced itself. What was she doing?

‘Nin suddenly seems to be the centre of the whale world,' Ben said. ‘I'm thinking of packing in my research and starting a whale-watching business.'

‘You mustn't do that. Being a scientist is such a cool job.'

What was that?
Hayley wondered. That was dangerously close to flirting.

‘I'm kidding. I love my job, although it can be a little lonely at times, just me and the whales.'

Her mom laughed coyly.

Enough already
.

‘Here's something you might find interesting,' Ben said. ‘You guys have a species of dolphin named after you. There's a Risso's dolphin.'

‘Oh, my goodness,' said Sarah. ‘That's exciting.' She turned to her daughter. ‘Isn't that exciting, Hayley?'

Hayley thought,
Not really
. ‘Sure,' she said.

Ben looked at Hayley now. ‘There's also a Fraser's dolphin.'

Why are you telling me?
she thought.

‘Is there a Ben's dolphin?' her mom asked.

‘Not yet. Not until I discover a new species.'

From around the headland there appeared a large yacht, its white hull gleaming in the sunlight, it sail billowing in a gentle breeze.

‘Whose boat is that?' Sarah asked.

‘That's Willie McGregor's yacht,' Ben said. ‘He's a big man in Skulavaig. One of the old fishermen. My boat used to be Willie's. As you can see, he's upgraded.'

Hayley looked down at the old boat tied to the sea wall where they stood. Compared with the yacht, it was a rather sorry-looking thing.

‘There must have been money to be made in lobster fishing,' Sarah said.

‘Aye, indeed.'

Hayley saw a gleam in her mother's eye and she hoped it came from chasing a story, not from chasing Ben.

‘I'm going for a sail round the island myself,' Ben said. ‘Would you like to come?' After a pause, too long for Hayley's liking, he added, ‘Both of you.'

‘I can't today,' Sarah said. ‘But definitely some other time. We would love that, wouldn't we, Hayley?'

‘Sure,' she said again, as unconvincing as the first time.

Ben said goodbye and climbed down a rusty metal ladder on to his boat. He moved to the wheelhouse and the engine spluttered and banged and came to life. He guided the boat gently away from the wall, spinning the wheel so the vessel turned to face the narrow harbour opening and the sea beyond. He eased forward on the throttle, the screw began to turn, the propeller churned water and the boat sailed out.

Hayley and her mom watched the boat move away and then Hayley asked, ‘Why were you flirting with that man?'

‘I wasn't flirting with Ben. I'm researching my book.'

‘
Ben
, is it now?'

‘Well, that's his name.'

‘Do you like him?'

‘Hayley.'

‘I think he liked you.'

‘Hayley!'

When she wanted to, Hayley could really twist the knife.

‘What about Dad, what would he think?'

‘Now that's not fair.'

‘You're still married, after all.'

Sarah took a large breath. ‘You know as well as I, honey, that your father couldn't care less who I flirted with.'

‘So you
were
flirting.' Hayley gave a squeal of triumph.

Her mom gave her a look of both scorn and disappointment, turned on her heel and walked up the jetty towards the cottage. Hayley stood on the stone wall and realized she had just chased away the only person she knew on the whole island. In the whole country. On the whole continent. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. It was time for another photograph. A completely, totally, utterly by-my-selfie.