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
“Short for Finlay. I was Fionnlagh till I went to school, then they gave me my English name. Finlay. It was Marsaili who called me Fin.” He sits down beside me on the bed.
I feel hope lifting me. “Marsaili? Is she here?”
“No, but she asked me if I would take you out for a wee run in the car. She said you would like that.”
I am disappointed. But it would be nice to get out for a bit. I’ve been stuck in here for a while now. “I would.”
“And I see you’re all dressed up and ready to go.”
“Always.” I can feel a smile creeping up on me. “You’re a good lad, Fin. You always were. But you shouldn’t have been coming round the farm when your folks had forbidden it.”
Fin is smiling, too, now. “You remember that, do you?”
“I do. Your mother was furious. Mary was scared she’d think we’d been encouraging it. How are your folks, by the way?”
He doesn’t answer. He’s looking at my hands, and lifts my right forearm. “They tell me you cut yourself, Mr. Macdonald.”
“Did I?” I look at my hands and see white bandages wrapped around them. Oh! What the hell happened? I feel a spike of fear. “God,” I say, quite shaken. “You’d think it would hurt. But I don’t feel anything. Is it bad?”
“They gave you some stitches, apparently. Up at the hospital. You were trying to escape.”
“Escape?” The very word lifts my spirits.
“Yes. But, you know, Mr. Macdonald, you’re not locked in here. You can come and go when you like. Just like a hotel. As long as you let people know.”
“I want to go home,” I say.
“Well, you know what they say, Mr. Macdonald. Home is where your hat is.”
“Do they?” Who the hell are they?
“Yes, they do.”
“Well, where’s my hat?”
Fin grins at me. “It’s on your head.”
I can feel my own surprise, and put my hand up to find my hat there right enough. I take it off and look at it. Good old hat. It’s been with me for many a long year. I laugh now. “So it is. I didn’t realize.”
He helps me gently to my feet.
“Wait, I’ll have to get my bag.”
“No, you’d best leave it here, Mr. Macdonald. You’ll need your things when you get back.”
“I’m coming back?”
“Of course. You’ll need to come back to hang up your hat. Remember? Home is where your hat is.”
I look at the hat, still held in my bandaged hands, and laugh again. I put it firmly back on my head. “You’re right. I’d almost forgotten.”