Chapters (43)
- Pronunciation
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Acknowledgments
“They went to all the dances at the social. And all the crofters’ do’s. They must have been going out steady for about four years when the farmer at Mealanais died, and the place came up for lease. Dad applied for it, and they said yes. On condition that he got himself married.”
“That must have made for a romantic proposal.”
Marsaili smiled in spite of herself. “I think my mum was just pleased that something had finally prompted him to ask. They were married in Crobost Church by Donald Murray’s father, and spent the next God knows how many years eking a living off the land and raising me and my sister. In all my conscious life I can’t remember my dad once having left this island. And that’s all I know, really.”
Fin finished the last of his beer. “Tomorrow we’ll go and talk to your mum. She’s bound to have a lot more information than you do.”
Marsaili topped up her wine. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”
“What work?”
“Restoring your parents’ croft.”
His smile was touched by sadness. “It’s lain derelict for thirty years, Marsaili. It can wait a little longer.”
Thirteen
Thirteen
I can see a thin line of yellow light beneath the door. From time to time someone passes in the corridor and their shadow follows the light from one side to the other. I notice that I can’t hear any footsteps. Maybe they wear rubber shoes so you won’t know when they’re coming. Not like Mr. Anderson with his tick-tock crocodile shoes. He wants you to know. He wants you to be afraid. And we were.
I’m not afraid now, though. I’ve waited all my life for this. Escape. From all those people who want to keep me in places I don’t want to be. Well, fuck them!
Hah! It felt good to say that. Well, think it, anyway. “Fuck them!” I whisper it in the dark. And I hear it so loudly it makes me sit up straight.
If anyone comes in now, the game’s up. They will see my hat and coat, and notice my bag sitting packed on the end of the bed. They’ll probably call for Mr. Anderson, and I’ll be in for a hell of a leathering. I wish they would hurry up and put the lights out. I’ll need to be long gone by morning. I hope the others haven’t forgotten.
I don’t know how much time has passed. Did I fall asleep? There is no light beneath the door any more. I listen for a long time and hear nothing. So now I lift my bag from the bed and slowly open the door. Damn! I should have gone for a pee before now. Too late. Doesn’t matter. No time to lose.