Chapter 25 #4
“Keep that for your records. You’re welcome to stay on.
Nothin’ need change. You can live in the house and keep the sheep.
It’s only a formality, so there’s no confusion when I die.
The croft is yours until . . . until . .
.” She halted there and he was grateful for that.
If she continued and said that he could remain until he died, then that would be a lie.
He knew that one day one of Grace’s litter might want to take over the croft.
One of her brood would need a home for their own growing family and what then?
“Nobody needs know. We won’t tell the men. ”
“And if I won’t accept this?”
She looked at him with a pity he felt insulted by. “Don’t think of it as a punishment.”
“Then what if I won’t stay? Who will manage the place?”
John registered the flicker. She had been so sure he would stay, that he was so stuck in his ways, so anchored into the bedrock, that they could do whatever they pleased and he would have no choice but to accept it. They were certain he would give his life to their subsistence.
“Well, then I would understand. Cal doesn’t want the old place, so I would ask ye to do something for me before you leave.
I would ask ye to paint all the rooms in a fresh coat of emulsion.
Mibbe paint Cal’s bedroom a nice, duck-egg blue.
Grace and I will make some curtains. Mibbe buy a new slip for the old couch. ”
“All so you can rent it to holidaymakers?”
“Oh no, I’ve enough on my plate as it is,” she said quickly. “No. When you’ve fixed it up, I would ask you to gather a handful of the elders. Then I would ask you to go to the Macdonald house and offer the croft to Isla. It would mean more to her, coming from you.”
“You would give the land we’ve killed ourselves for to Isla?”
She drew a deep breath and let out a long sigh.
“Maybe it’s time we both moved on. I’ve been thinking about old Calum and what to do for the Morrison name.
He would never abide seeing a young woman in trouble.
She’ll be trying her hardest to raise that baby and a bit of independence might make a world of difference.
What young person can afford a house round here?
What with all the piss doctors and their piss doctor money. ”
“And what about your eldest grandson? Doesn’t he deserve your consideration?”
She frowned at John. “Lit I said, our Cal doesn’t want it. And we just buried a boy. Twenty-one year old and he’d never seen an inch of the world. Too busy doing all the things his father demanded of him.”
“He had a good life. And now Donnie will lose that boat.”
“Then let it sink,” she said. “Tie poor Sarah to the mast and put it all into the sea!”
A heavy silence fell over them. They listened to the sea strike the shore.
“There’s no mast on a creeling boat.”
John had spotted Isla a few days prior. He was impressed that she had just given birth but there she was, working on her father’s boat, coming in with the tide.
Her small frame was drowned by her brother’s fisher waders, her face slapped red from the cold.
But the talk was that she’d done well: she’d not been sick, and she’d held her pee for all the time they were out on the Minch.
Donnie would be able to keep up his payments.
“I gave Cal some money. I told him to get on with his life.” She gripped John’s forearm. “You’re not to interfere with whatever he decides.”
“So you call my son home because you missed him. Then you send him away when you’re done. Who are you to play God?”
Somewhere on the far side of the house they could hear Innes slam the van door.
“I needed to be absolutely certain. And I am certain now. What young man would want to tie himself to this old place? Look at it. It’s fallin’ tae bits.”
“How could I care for it when you would have ripped it all out from underneath me?”
She studied John’s profile again and could see from the set of his jaw that he might actually be serious, that this man who was made of this place would now give it up for pride and simply walk away. “It’s only paperwork, Johnnie. So now we’re all clear. Won’t you stay on?”
He could imagine her recounting this conversation to Grace later.
Let them spend their fruitless hours as women liked to do, picking, debating, trying to decipher what it was exactly that their men had been thinking.
He savoured the thought that she would come to when she realised a young mother was no equal to an unruly piece of rock.
He would like to stick around and see the burden they were confronted with when Isla tried to manage an unloved whitehouse, a derelict blackhouse, and a portion of barren earth she had no idea how to care for.
Ella was so close to getting what she wished for and her very next thought would be that she had wished for the wrong thing.
She patted his knee. “There’s another way to look at it. You could see this as good news. You could start a new life with Innes.”
“That’s no longer any of your concern.”
“Well. Either way, don’t be hasty. I widnae recognise ye.”
She held her hand out and he helped her to her feet, resisting the urge to whip her into the sea.
He was half stunned as they made their way across the stony ground.
They could see Innes waiting just around the corner.
He was leaning against the van, frowning at Ishbel, the bellwether ewe, who was staring right back up at him.
“What a lovely man,” said Ella with a wistful sigh.
“I want you to bring him round for his dinner. Grace would love that. We’ve always liked Innes more than we like you.
And Grace is delighted that she’s aged better than he has, so .
. .” She smoothed the back of her clipped hair.
“Youse are all over the wireless, Johnnie. All over the telly. I keep hearing how fabulous these gay men are. I’ve known you your entire life and I’ve yet to see any evidence of it. ”
He fell behind, which took great restraint.
He watched her limp her way towards the house and he could tell she was pleased with herself.
Pleased, that her plan had fallen into place.
He knew that no matter how she might deny it, no matter how her own motives might be concealed from her, that Ella Morrison was satisfied to have retaliated against him at long last.
He listened to her whistle a tune, thinking it a cunt’s move that she had chosen Psalm 133: Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.
“One last thing,” he said. He could sense Innes in the distance. It had been a long day and he had been watching their slow advance with the very last of his patience and now that John had stopped again, he threw his hands in the air.
Ella turned. She was smiling. John looked into her eyes, first the clear one and then the one that was slowly clouding with the years.
“Isla doesn’t know this. And neither does Cal – not yet, anyway.
But you should know that Donnie paid me a visit at the fank this morning.
He came to tell me that Cal had given Isla all that money you were telling me about. ”
She was still grinning as she narrowed her eyes in disbelief.
“Seems you both wanted to help the girl. I was very touched by that. You’re cut from the same cloth. The good old Christian clò.”
“I don’t believe you. That money was for him. To get away from you.”
John held up his hands as if it were a mad world and he, too, would never understand Cal’s motivation. “Believe what you will, but he has given the money away. Donnie showed me the envelope. He found it in her room. It was an old electricity bill with your name on the front.”
Ella made a small ‘oh’ sound.
He would let her faint.
“See, I’ve known all about your little protest with the church funds.
Your little ‘savings pot’. I’ve known for years.
” He brought his lips to her ear. “Did you never think Reverend McAllister might have taken me aside when he saw a reduction? Oh he was very apologetic. Oh he was ashamed to be asking me in such a direct manner. But he just wanted to know if there was any trouble at home, any trouble at all that meant our commitment should waver. I made up the difference, of course. But I want you to know that I knew. And that I have always known.”
“And so what?”
John stepped back, all the better to savour the shock in her expression. “You should also know that the Assembly approved the sale of the old church.”
“. . . They’ve done what?”
“Apparently someone was driving by on their holidays and they saw the building. They sent them an . . .” He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips as he searched for the word.
“. . . an email. Made such a generous offer they couldn’t refuse.
It’s enough money to ensure the survival of several other mission houses.
Look around. There’s no children. No hope for the future.
And the faith is splintering. There’s so few that believe in the true Word, too many who would try to bend it to accommodate their own failings, too many who would soften to appeal to the young.
” John sighed in defeat. “So they’ve sold it to an actress from the mainland who dreams of becoming a potter.
She will turn it into her ceramics studio where she will throw plates and bowls and God knows what other things you and me could never afford.
Apparently, she found the space to be ‘delightfully spare’. Those are her exact words.”
“I didnae know.”
“No,” he said. “Nor did we. They didn’t want to bother us while we were grieving.”
“Bother us? But . . .” She wrung her hands. “How long do we have?”
“The actress wants to celebrate Christmas with her friends. She’s already enquired if I would lead a choir of traditional psalm-singing for her party.” He chuckled bitterly.
John reached into his inside pocket and took out the factor’s envelope. He ran his thumb along the sharp edge. “You’ve made an error on this agreement.”
She blinked. “What are you talking about? There’s no mistake.”
“There is. But don’t worry, you can fix it.
” He handed the agreement back to Ella. He watched as she opened it and squinted at the letter.
“I appreciate how hard it’s been for you to build a life here.
I know a sense of belonging has eluded you.
But I fear there will be no belonging for you, no community for Grace or any of her children, if it becomes known that you spent years stealing from a dying church.
” When she looked up at him, he added, “I’m afraid Donnie has seen an envelope of money with your name on the front and, well .
. . you know how people can make up stories. ”
He patted her arm as he stepped around her.
“Right, shall we get this show on the road? Innes will be wanting his bath.”
He left Ella staring out at the sea, the factor’s letter snapping in the wind.
He made his way towards the van and he winked at Innes, who scowled at him in return. “You’re taking advantage of my kind nature, John.”
“You’ve only just realised?” John laid his hand on Innes’s shoulder and gave him a hard squeeze. “We had a bit of family business to take care of. But it’s sorted now.”
“You seem suspiciously cheerful.”
The men turned to watch Ella stagger towards the house. She seemed more uncertain than usual. She reached the front door and clung to the frame as she stepped up into the hallway.
“Should we help her?”
“No. She’s fine,” John said. “It’s all very emotional.”
They waited until Ella disappeared into the shadows of the house.
Then John whistled the command for ‘come by’.
He inclined his head and indicated he wanted Innes to follow him.
Innes laughed but they walked around to the far side of the van where, as soon as they were hidden from view, John grabbed the front of Innes’s overalls and pressed him against the van.
He pushed him so hard that the Transit rocked on its wheels.
He kissed him quickly. Innes was stunned to silence.
“When you’re done moving her. Let’s get a bottle of the hard stuff.” He pressed his cock into Innes’s. He moved his hips left and right and felt them snag and bump against each other. “We’ll go for a walk up to the asphodel. We’ll celebrate.”
Innes traced John’s jaw with the side of his thumb. “But what are we celebrating?”
John kissed him one last time and then he stepped away and wiped his mouth.
“I’ve sorted the tenancy.” He was pacing in a circle, grinning in triumph, and so he didn’t notice the effect his words had on Innes when he said, “Can you believe it? She thought she had won. But the croft will be mine and we can go on, you and me, just the way we are.”