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Back The Whistling Save as PDF
Chapters (52)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. DEDICATION
  4. EPIGRAPH
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. Part Two
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. Part Three
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. Acknowledgements
  52. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

When the recollection left me, standing cold and bereft on the ridge, I looked down at my charge.

Mary glanced back up and seemed to assess me and then, for the first time, the smallest curve of pleasure crept on to her lips.

4

Later, a lunch of soup followed by cheese and some sort of flat cake was served in the formal dining room with Miss Gillies herself. I became aware that she rarely addressed Mary, perhaps tired of receiving no answer or keen to develop our own acquaintance, but as the meal wore on her eyes seldom strayed Mary’s way and I was bitten by faint perplexity.

‘What do you think of our island?’ Miss Gillies asked.

‘I had not realized it would be so beautiful.’ I could see she was gratified. ‘Mary and I saw a sea eagle.’

‘You know a little of these things?’

‘My father was a keen naturalist. He taught us from a young age.’

‘What was his profession?’

‘He was a lawyer.’ Too soon the smell of his pipe came to fill me with loss. I swallowed and put down my fork until the wave passed. I recalled Edinburgh and the doctor’s assessing gaze, the quick glance he paid to my friend, how Mrs MacAllister had then clasped her hands in agitation. ‘She will not eat. You must make her eat,’ she pleaded.

I shook the memory away. Although my throat was tight, I lifted the fork once more and put the food to my lips.

The minutes passed and at one o’clock, Miss Gillies took Mary for the promised lessons, leaving me free to wander and explore. I sat for a little longer by the fire as their steps receded and let the first morning come to rest. Although silent, I had not found Mary’s company uncomfortable. It had not, I realized, been necessary to hold long, one-sided conversations. Companionship found other avenues: there had been some shared wonder in the foraging on the beach and in the sweet she offered me later. The morning had exceeded my expectation. Perhaps, after all, a child with problems would present not only greater challenges but greater rewards, and I felt a determination to change Mary’s world for her if I could. I remembered my father’s idiom: ‘If you fail to reach the summit, climb another mountain.’ I thought then of how, after Clara’s death, I had so nearly given up, and I was grateful for the opportunity Iskar offered in giving me a path on a new mountain.