As she crossed the bridge over to Skye, she felt hollow inside. It wasn’t hunger, she had taken packets of nuts and a slab of chocolate with her. No, it was unmitigated terror. She looked at her watch. Eight twenty. It was pitch black and she could barely see the road signs but she knew she had to head north at the end of the bridge. The deep fear inside her was irrational, she told herself. Her dad was going to be fine. He was strong as an ox. This was just a blip, something brought on by too much wine. He drank too much; and as for that pipe, well, that would all have to go, no doubt about it.

Forty minutes later, she drove up the hill towards Portree Hospital and parked the car. She got out and ran towards the entrance. The receptionist directed her to the visitors’ room where she was told her mother would be. She sprinted along the corridor and flung open the door. Her mother sat crumpled in a corner, a nurse on either side of her, one holding a cup of tea on a saucer.

‘Mum!’ Fiona ran over to her and her mother looked up, her eyes filled with tears.

‘He’s gone, Fi, about an hour ago.’

‘What d’you mean, gone?’

One of the nurses stood up and patted Fiona’s arm. ‘So sorry, Fiona, your father passed away at eight o’clock tonight. The doctors tried everything they could, but it was already too late.’

‘But that’s impossible, he’s strong, robust, he’s…’

‘The doctors said if it hadn’t happened on the ferry, they might have been able to save him. Took too long to get to the ambulance and get that stent put in. Would you like to see one of the doctors?’

The nurse pushed her gently onto the chair she had just vacated and as Fiona nodded, she grasped her mother’s hand and looked up into tear-filled eyes.

Fiona felt her chest begin to heave and she started to cry, gulping as tears flowed. She rested her head on her mother’s lap and shook with silent sobs. Her mother stroked her forehead and began mumbling something, she had no idea what, but the noise was soothing.

‘We’ll get the doctor along for you now,’ said the nurse as she and her companion tiptoed out of the room and shut the door firmly behind them.

CHAPTER 45

Chapter 45

Friday 9 January 1880

Ann got down from the carriage at her husband’s jute mill and spoke to the driver. ‘Wait here. I’ll only be a half hour, no more.’