Chapter 26
Noise filled Tara’s head. All she could hear was the wind and the slam of the waves against the boat. All she could feel was the rain and the spray soaking her already sodden body. Her feet sat in the freezing puddle at the bottom, and she couldn’t feel her fingers. She kept having to look to check they were still gripping the sides. Her hands were pale and dead in the false gloaming, as though they belonged to a ghost.
How long had she been on the loch? She wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours, could it?
She didn’t think night was approaching just yet, despite the heavy, lowering cloud. The thought of being out here in the dark terrified her even more than she already was.
Her voice hoarse from shouting, she tried again. It was little more than a whisper. ‘Cal.’ Would his name be the last word on her lips?
The boat rose, a wave lifting it, tilting the stern so high she thought it would topple backwards, before it slammed down to sink into the watery chasm that opened underneath.
Tara screamed, a harsh guttural cry, expecting icy water to close over her head.
Miraculously, the boat stayed afloat. But for how much longer?
Blinking tears and raindrops out of her eyes, she squinted into the distance, desperate for a sight of land.
The loch was only two miles wide, but it may well have been an ocean. If there were any lights on in the castle or the village, she couldn’t see them. But maybe she was looking in the wrong direction.
Or was she?
Tara blinked again and narrowed her eyes as she peered into the murk, keeping her head still as the boat turned. That was definitely a light. It pierced the gloom in a single beam, then disappeared as a wall of water reared up to obscure it.
Filled with dismay, Tara craned her neck. She wanted to stand up for a better look but knew it would be fatal. Her grip tightened on the sides of the boat, and she gritted her teeth, pain flaring along her jaw.
Then she saw it again.
Was it closer? She couldn’t tell.
A new noise filtered into her consciousness, a low grumbling rumble, mechanical rather than natural, and a shape behind the light emerged out of the lashing rain.
‘Help! Help!’ she screamed. She wanted to jump up and down and wave her arms, but she had to trust they had seen her.
When the beam caught her and held, she knew they had.
Sobbing with relief, fresh tears cascaded down her face to mingle with the rain and the spray.
But as the sound of the engine increased as her rescuers grew nearer, she began to worry that they hadn’t seen her after all and she was about to be run down. Then the vessel turned sideways on when it was still some distance away, and the engine noise decreased.
Now that the light wasn’t shining directly into her eyes, Tara could make out a figure on the deck.
‘Tara! Can you hear me?’
The voice was achingly familiar, but it couldn’t be.
‘Here!’ she shouted back. ‘I’m here.’ It ended on a sob.
‘I’m going to throw you a rope. Do you think you can catch it?’
It really did sound like Cal, but that was impossible. She must be hallucinating. The cold was affecting her mind, making her imagine things.
‘I’ll try,’ she called, through teeth that chattered so hard she feared they might shatter with the force of it. The thought of releasing her hold on the boat petrified her. She couldn’t feel her hands, and she was afraid they would be too stiff. But when something landed with a heavy thud inside the boat, Tara dived on it instinctively, and she didn’t realise she was clutching the rope until she’d wrapped her hands around it and was holding it with the same death grip as she’d held onto the sides of Misty Lady .
‘Tie it to a cleat,’ the man yelled, but she hesitated. She had no idea what a cleat was.
‘Tara, hurry! Tie the rope off.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ she wailed.
‘You do ! Remember the first time we went out in Misty Lady ? You saw me tie a rope to a metal horn on her side? Tie the rope to that.’
‘Cal? Cal!’ She was shrieking now, unable to believe it. It hadn’t been her imagination – it was him on that boat. ‘Is that really you?’
‘Yes, it’s me. Now, please tie the rope.’
Tara felt around for one of the metal horns, and when her fingers encountered one, she wrapped the rope around it in a figure of eight. She wasn’t sure how secure it was, but it would have to do.
He called, ‘Hang on, we’re going to pull you in.’
Tara clung to the sides once more as the boat moved beneath her, and she prayed for nothing to go wrong. Not now, not when she was almost home and dry.
She was still clinging on for dear life when Cal dropped into the boat and knelt beside her.
‘Here.’ He placed a life vest over her head, then helped her to her feet.
She swayed as the boat rolled underneath them, and his arms immediately came around her.
‘Thank God you’re safe,’ he said, his mouth against her ear. ‘Let’s get you aboard. I’ll help you reach the ladder and Mack will help you climb it. OK?’
‘OK.’
He gave her a squeeze. ‘Atta girl.’
Unsteady, her legs trembling, Tara shuffled towards the other boat’s ladder, Cal still holding onto her. Guiding her feet onto the bottom rung, he grasped her legs as she heaved herself upwards.
Terrified she would fall, it took a gargantuan effort to reach the top, but Mack was waiting for her as Cal promised, and he ushered her into the relative shelter of the cabin. But no sooner was she inside, he abandoned her.
She stood there shivering, and watched anxiously as Mack threw another rope over the side. Worry for her own safety faded. She now worried for Cal’s instead. What if he fell overboard, or—?
Tara’s legs gave way and she dropped to the floor, trembling violently. This was all her fault. How could she have been so stupid! Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed uncontrollably.
Then Cal was on the floor beside her. He took her in his arms, cradling her as Mack draped a silver foil blanket over her before throttling up the engine.
‘It’s OK, you’re safe,’ Cal soothed.
‘I’ll let the Coast Guard know they’re no longer needed,’ Mack said, ‘and request an ambulance instead.’
Tara’s breath caught in her throat and she raised frightened eyes to Cal. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘It’s not for me, it’s for you. We’d better get you checked out.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Let the experts be the judge of that. You could be suffering from hypothermia.’
‘I’m OK,’ she insisted, then promptly burst into noisy tears again. ‘I’m sorry, I could have got us all killed.’
‘But you didn’t. We’re fine.’
‘Your poor boat.’
‘My boat is also fine. Mack is towing her back as we speak.’
The knowledge didn’t make Tara feel any better. Aside from her physical discomfort, her heart was breaking. Her stupidity had put the man she loved in danger. Mack, also. She would never forgive herself.
Still shivering, as much from shock as the cold, it took her a while to realise that Cal was shaking too. He was racked by deep shudders as he clung to her, and she abruptly realised he was crying.
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he muttered, over and over again. And Tara wept with him because, despite his presence, she had already lost him .
‘I don’t want to go to hospital.’ Tara was adamant. She was sitting
in the back of the ambulance that had been waiting for her when Mack’s
boat had returned to its mooring, and feeling mortified at the mayhem
she’d caused – the coast guard, the ambulance, Mack having to take his
boat out in such dreadful weather…
She was reminded just how awful the weather was when a gust of wind buffeted the side of the vehicle, making it rock.
‘Can’t you make her go?’ Cal asked one of the paramedics. He was in the ambulance with her, looking on anxiously.
‘Not really, and in Tara’s instance I don’t think she needs further medical attention. She’s cold, but she isn’t hypothermic.’
‘Does that mean I can go home?’ she asked. Although exactly where ‘home’ was, wasn’t clear.
The boathouse would have to do for today. She would see how she felt tomorrow. Despite being keen to get away from Duncoorie, if she didn’t feel up to the journey she’d wait another day until she left for the Isle of Wight. Even though she’d spent the last twenty minutes convincing everyone she was fine, she wasn’t. The cold had seeped so deeply into her bones she didn’t think she’d ever be warm again. She felt so weak that the thought of walking from here to Cal’s car was daunting, and she was so tired that if she slept for a week it wouldn’t be long enough. And her heart was still in shreds, the pain more acute and much longer lasting than anything today had caused.
Eventually, the paramedics were happy to relinquish her into Cal’s care, and he led her to his car and sat her in it with the engine running and the heater on, while he went to speak with Mack. He was back before long, and as he slid behind the wheel she saw how drawn he looked. This afternoon had taken a toll on him, too.
‘OK?’ he asked, his expression wary.
She nodded, too weary to speak, and they drove back to Coorie Castle in silence.
When the car pulled up outside the boathouse, Tara took a deep breath. ‘Thank you,’ she said simply.
He blew out his cheeks. ‘You’re welcome.’
It was an effort to get out of the car. She may have stopped shivering, but every muscle ached and her hands throbbed. The main reason for her distress, though, was that she was acutely aware this would be the last time she would see him.
Cal, however, appeared to have other ideas. He had exited the driver’s side, walked around the bonnet and was waiting to escort her to her door.
‘I’m coming in with you,’ he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Tara was too tired to object. She unlocked the door to the boathouse and stepped inside, her movements stiff and sluggish.
Cal took the keys out of her hand. ‘Go have a hot shower. I’ll make you some food.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ The shower sounded good, though.
‘I’ll make you something anyway.’
Tara shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower before peeling off her wet clothes. Her skin was prickling with goosebumps, and while she waited for the water to heat up, she examined herself in the mirror.
It wasn’t a pleasant sight. Her hair hung in damp rats’ tails, her face was white, and the skin around her eyes looked bruised, the eyes themselves haunted. She looked exactly how she felt.
It took her a while to wash her hair. Her arms were leaden, and halfway through she was forced to sit down in the bottom of the cubicle, the hot water sluicing over her bowed head and shoulders as she cried quiet tears.
Cal might have risked his life to rescue her, but she was wise enough not to read more into that selfless act than it warranted. She knew he loved her, that hadn’t changed. But neither had his reason for breaking up with her.
He must have popped home, because when she emerged from her bedroom having dried her hair and changed into some fluffy pyjamas, he was in a dry pair of jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt. He was also stirring something on the hob.
A delicious smell hit her nose, and her stomach rumbled.
‘Better?’ he asked when he saw her.
‘Yes, thanks. Are you OK?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What are you making?’
‘Chicken and vegetable soup. It’s quick, filling and nutritious. And I already had it in my freezer.’
Tara lurched over to the table and sat down. ‘Where’s Bonnie?’
‘With Mhairi at the castle.’
‘Does she know what’s happened?’
He shot her a keen look. ‘She was with me when I noticed the skiff had gone.’
Tara’s eyes flew open. ‘The doll’s house!’
‘Don’t worry, we came back before it started to rain. It’s sitting on my dining room table. Bonnie loves it, by the way. She says thank you.’ He smiled. ‘I love it, too.’ There was a pause, and his gaze locked with hers. Then, still looking at her, he slowly moved the pan of soup off the heat and said, ‘I love you .’
Tara screwed her eyes shut as a fresh wave of misery hit her. ‘Cal, don’t.’
When she opened them again, he was still staring at her.
He said, ‘You’re right. Now isn’t the time.’ He turned away, his attention returning to the soup as he lifted the handle and poured it into a couple of bowls.
She was surprised he was eating with her, but didn’t say anything, drawing her bowl nearer when he placed it on the table.
Her appetite abruptly deserting her, Tara ate without tasting, forcing it down, knowing she needed to eat if she was to feel better by the morning.
Cal didn’t join her at the table. He ate his soup standing at the counter, and when they had finished he cleared away the dirty dishes.
‘Go to bed,’ he told her. ‘You look done in. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He wouldn’t, she thought as she climbed into bed. She intended to be long gone by the time he got up. There was no point in dragging this out. It would be better for both of them if she slipped away quietly.
As she closed her eyes and sleep claimed her, the last memory she had of Cal was hearing the boathouse door softly click shut behind him.
Mhairi was waiting in the parlour, and as soon as Cal entered she hurried towards him. ‘Thank goodness you are safe!’ she cried, opening her arms to give him a hug.
He hugged her back, inhaling the scent of Chanel. ‘Where’s Bonnie?’
‘I told her you’d found Tara, and that you are both safe and well and back on dry land. She’s in the library, playing solitaire.’
‘I didn’t know she knew how to play solitaire.’
‘She didn’t. I taught her this evening. After I taught her how to play poker.’
‘You didn’t!’
Mhairi smirked. ‘I did. She’s good, too. We played for Scrabble tiles.’
‘You could have actually played Scrabble instead.’
‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Her head cocked to the side. ‘You look dreadful.’
‘Don’t say that. It isn’t good for my confidence.’
‘It’s true. Was it bad out there?’
‘It’s been better.’
‘Whisky?’
‘Please. I think I need one.’
‘How is Tara? I know you said she was safe and well when you phoned, but that doesn’t tell me how she is.’
‘She’s leaving – tomorrow, I think.’
‘Ah. I see. I understood she was staying a while. I’d hoped you would have enough time to sort yourselves out.’
‘I’ll speak to her in the morning, try to persuade her to stay. She’s asleep right now.’ He wasn’t going to try to persuade her – he was going to beg.
‘I’m not surprised. She must be exhausted after her ordeal. She was very lucky.’
‘She was.’ Cal took a mouthful of whisky, savouring the warmth. Tara’s brush with death had chilled him to his core. Today could so easily have ended in disaster.
‘Do you know why she took the boat out?’ Mhairi asked.
He shrugged, pretending he didn’t, even though he had a reasonably good idea. The loch was their special place, and the memory of her lying in his arms naked under the sun hit him with such force it made his chest ache.
‘Hmm. At least there’s no harm done,’ Mhairi said.
The door burst open and Bonnie bounded in, shouting, ‘Is my dad back yet?’ When she saw him, she flew into his arms, buried her head in his stomach and burst into tears.
‘There, there,’ he soothed. ‘No need to cry. I’m safe and sound.’
Bonnie sniffed loudly, and Mhairi handed her a clean handkerchief. She always had at least two about her person.
After Bonnie had blown her nose and mopped up her tears, his daughter looked up at him, her expression unreadable, and said in a rather scoffing tone, ‘I knew you would be OK. It was Tara I was worried about.’ Then her little face crumpled again. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean it when I said I wished you were dead. And I didn’t want Tara to die either.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. Thankfully, we’re both all right.’
‘Bonnie and I have had a little chat,’ Mhairi said. ‘Would you like to tell your dad what it was about?’
Bonnie hung her head, and Cal gave Mhairi a questioning look.
‘Mhairi told me I was being selfish,’ Bonnie mumbled. ‘That you had to have someone to look after you when I’m with Mum.’
‘And…?’ Mhairi prompted.
‘That it was wrong of you to break your promise, but you shouldn’t have made it in the first place. She called you a numpty.’
Cal raised an eyebrow.
‘You are,’ Mhairi said. ‘What else, Bonnie?’
‘I like Tara. If you have to have a girlfriend, I’d prefer it to be her, rather than someone I don’t know.’
Cal heard Mhairi’s voice in Bonnie’s words. ‘Do you mean that, or are you just saying it because Mhairi told you to?’
‘Mhairi didn’t tell me to say anything. She told me to go away and think about my actions and how sad you were.’
‘Was that before or after she taught you to play poker?’
‘Before. Does Tara play poker?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Can I go and ask her?’
‘Not right now, she’s asleep. I’d better get back and check on her.’ He met Mhairi’s eyes over the top of his daughter’s head.
Mhairi’s expression was solemn. She was as aware as he of the dangers of the loch and how things could have been much worse.
‘Is she your girlfriend again?’ Bonnie asked.
‘If she’ll have me.’
‘She will.’
He loved his daughter’s confidence. Cal, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked.
‘A bit. But Mhairi says that’s selfish.’ She pulled a face. ‘Being selfish isn’t nice.’
Mhairi pointed at the door. ‘You can thank me later,’ she said to him. ‘Now, go home. I need a cup of cocoa.’
‘Fetch your night things,’ Cal said to Bonnie after he’d thanked Mhairi for looking after her and had taken Bonnie back to the cottage. ‘We’re spending tonight in the boathouse. I don’t want to leave Tara on her own, not after—’ He stopped.
‘Could Tara have died?’ she asked, her eyes wide.
Cal was tempted to gloss over the danger Tara had been in, but he didn’t want to minimise how treacherous the loch could be. It was like any other wild place on Skye – it had to be treated with respect, so he decided to be truthful. ‘Yes, she could have.’
‘But you saved her.’
‘ Mack saved her,’ Cal corrected.
‘Oh, I thought you did.’ She sounded disappointed, and so was he. He would have liked to have hung onto his superhero status for a while longer.
Bonnie brightened. ‘Can I make him a thank-you card?’
‘I think he’d like that.’
‘Shall I make one for Tara?’
‘You definitely should. Tara’s only got one bedroom, so I bagsy the couch. You, young one, can have the floor.’
‘That’s not fair!’
Calan’s smile was wide as he carried a bundle of bedding from the cottage to the boathouse.
Bonnie, to his amazement, had accepted Tara as his girlfriend – with a few home truths from Mhairi. Now all he had to do was to persuade Tara to forgive him and give him another chance – for a second time.
He feared it wasn’t going to be easy.