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
Not a word had passed between the two men on the drive from the registry office. But Gunn looked up now and gave voice to the thought which had occupied them both since Mrs. Macaulay had asked if they would like a copy of the death certificate. “If Marsaili’s dad is not Tormod Macdonald, Mr. Macleod, then who the hell is he?”
Twenty
Twenty
I’ll just sit here for a while. The ladies are all in the activity room knitting. No kind of job for a man, that. The old boy in the chair opposite looks like a bit of an old woman to me. He should be in there knitting, too!
There’s a square of garden out there through the glass doors that would be nice to sit in. I see a bench. Better than having to put up with that old bastard staring at me all the time. I’ll just go out.
Oh! It’s colder than it looks. And the bench is wet. Dammit! Too late. But everything will dry in time. I see a square of sky up there. Clouds blowing across it at a fair old lick. But it’s sort of sheltered here, even if it is cold.
“Hello, Dad.”
Her voice startles me. I didn’t hear her coming. Was I sleeping? It’s so cold.
“What are you doing sitting out here in the rain?”
“It’s not raining,” I tell her. “It’s just seaspray.”
“Come on, we’d better go inside and get you dried off.”
She wants me to go in off the deck. But I don’t want to go back to the Smoke Room. It’s even worse than steerage. All these men smoking, and the stink of stale beer. I’ll throw up again if I have to sit in there on those worn old leather benches with no air to breathe.
Oh, there’s a bed here. I didn’t realize they had cabins on board. She wants to take off my wet trousers, but I’m not having any of it. I push her away. “Stop that!” It’s not the done thing. A man has a right to his dignity.
“Oh, Dad, you can’t sit here in wet clothes. You’ll catch your death.”
I shake my head and feel the rolling of the boat beneath me. “How long have we been at sea now, Catherine?”
She looks at me so strangely.
“What boat is it we’re on, Dad?”
“The RMS Claymore. Not a name I’m ever likely to forget. First boat I ever was on.”
“And where are we sailing to?”
Who knows? It’s almost dark now, and we left the mainland behind us so long ago. I never knew Scotland was so big. We’ve been travelling for days. “I heard someone in the Saloon talking about Big Kenneth.”
“Is that someone you know?”
“No. Never heard of him.”