Chapter Twenty-Five
Monty
B eautiful Barra rolled past like a highlights reel of Hebridean scenery just for Monty’s pleasure. Ruaridh was driving, so Monty could kick back and enjoy the sunshine, the turquoise ocean and grassy tufts dancing in the breeze. Except it all felt like a sharp reminder of what he was about to lose. The wild beauty would soon be a memory to look back on in photographs… Just like Iona. Leaving her was a horrible wrench, but he couldn’t take her with him.
As they drove through Castlebay, he looked out at Kisimul Castle, pressing a fist to his heart as he did so. Hopefully his father’s soul was free now, carried away by crosswinds and Atlantic waves, soaring high like Iona when she kite-surfed.
‘You had a good stay?’ Ruaridh asked.
‘Yeah. I’ve enjoyed it.’
‘Magical place, isn’t it? I’ve always lived here and sometimes I get bored, you know, and moan about lack of facilities and what have you, but I always come back. I was on holiday last week with some friends. We took my boat off and did some cruising around, but something pulls me home every time. Even when I see other places, they never talk to me like this place.’
‘I can understand that. It definitely has a pull, something that makes me want to come back.’ In a couple of days, when he was back in his office, he’d miss it even more.
‘It’s in your blood. You’ve got a history here and no matter where you are, a part of you will always want to come back.’
‘You might be right.’
‘Listen, I’m sorry about the whole Iona thing,’ Ruaridh went on. ‘I hope I didn’t get in the way. She’s about the only single girl on the island, you know? So I kind of thought we’d get together at some point… Just for a hookup. She isn’t up for the long term. Anyway, seemed like a good idea at the time. But we’re just friends. She doesn’t like me any other way and, to be honest, I don’t see her like that either. I was just hopeful, but she always thought it would make things awkward, and I guess she’s right.’
Monty forced a smile. Ruaridh was a chatterbox who obviously didn’t mind spilling his soul to everyone and anyone – or maybe it was their newfound family connection making him feel suddenly more relaxed with Monty. ‘No worries. Iona’s great, but she belongs here, and I don’t – no matter what my history may be. It’s just a practicality.’
Ruaridh glanced over at him. ‘Yeah. That’s harsh.’
‘I’m sure we’ll get over each other.’ Though his words were an empty promise. It certainly wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps Iona never really liked him as much as he liked her. Was he just another tourist?
No.
Something told him that wasn’t the case. She hadn’t spoken her feelings aloud, but she’d shown him in so many ways.
‘I never thought Iona would stick around.’ Ruaridh pulled into a passing place to let a car go by. ‘But she’s become a part of this island.’
‘Yeah, she really is that.’ And it would be cruel to take her away from it. Monty wouldn’t dream of asking her to leave. He didn’t want to force them to be together by making her abandon her beloved home. That would change her too much, and he didn’t want her to change. He loved her the way she was.
‘Relationships are a funny thing, eh?’ Ruaridh barked out a laugh. ‘Maybe I’m just out of it living here, where the dating pool is basically non-existent. But how the heck do people find each other at the right time and place?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘And how do you know they feel what you feel?’ Ruaridh exploded his fingers in front of his forehead like the whole concept messed with his head.
‘Guesswork and hope most of the time.’
‘You’re so right. Just got to keep trying, huh?’
Yup.
But it was easy to make mistakes. Monty had thought he’d loved Sophie. He’d built his life around that idea for a long time. But it was a false love. Comfortable, convenient, but not real. Not like the soul encompassing love he felt for Iona. When he confessed to her, it had been real and true.
He stared out the window, watching the landscape blur by. Another cracking day, but his last one here for who knew how long. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t be going back to Sophie. He couldn’t. Not now. Not after Iona.
‘You ok?’ Ruaridh said. ‘Sad to leave?’
‘Yep.’
‘Well, whatever happens, I hope it works out for you and come back any time. We’ll be happy to have you.’
Monty smiled. ‘Thank you.’
As they pulled up to the tiny airport, Monty took a deep breath. Ruaridh parked and got out, moving to the boot to grab Monty’s bag.
‘Thanks for the lift.’ Monty stepped out, stretching his arms above his head.
‘No problem.’ Ruaridh handed over the bag. ‘Hope you get back safe. Maybe see you around again sometime?’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Monty extended his hand. ‘Take care.’
They shook hands, and Ruaridh clapped Monty’s upper arm. ‘You too. All the best, cuz.’
Monty watched as Ruaridh got back in the car and gave a final wave before driving off. He stood there for a moment, as the car disappeared down the road, before turning around and heading into the tiny terminal building.
Once inside, he pulled out his phone. Perhaps Iona would have left a message, but there was nothing. He sighed and turned his gaze to the little plane on the beach, waiting to carry him away. Soon he’d be on it, flying back to Glasgow Airport, his little holiday at an end.
His thoughts whirred back to his initial reasons for being here. How he’d cringed at the thought of landing on a small strip of sand and clung to his dad’s ashes. It seemed so long ago, but in reality, it wasn’t. Two short weeks. Initially he’d wanted to spend the time walking, gathering a feel for the place, and learning about why it had been so special to his dad. Some of that had happened, but he’d also taken a journey of self-discovery. Hopefully his dad was now happily at rest, and he’d be proud of Monty, not disappointed.
He adjusted the strap of his bag. Was it bad that he’d spent most of the time conducting a holiday fling? Something he’d never done before – and would very likely never do again.
After checking in at the tiny desk, he headed outside onto the beach. Time to go. He started towards the plane, each step heavier than the last. He was leaving, but a piece of himself would always be here.
Taking one last breath of Hebridean air, he climbed the steps onto the plane. The insides were small, and he found his seat quickly. Strapping himself in, he braced for the take-off. He’d got braver since his arrival but still wasn’t keen on the swoop in his gut when the plane left the ground.
The plane’s engines vibrated beneath him, and Monty held onto the armrests. As the engines roared louder, Monty’s grip tightened. The noise was deafening, then the plane jolted forward, gaining speed, and he felt the familiar lurch in his stomach as the wheels left the ground. He closed his eyes for a moment, then forced them open. He had to see the island one last time.
As they climbed higher, he glanced out the window. Barra spread out below and he saw its imprint, a patchwork of green fields, rocky outcrops, and the shimmering sea. The beach where he’d landed two weeks ago looked like a sliver of white against the blue water. His gaze moved inland, and he fancied he saw Iona’s car parked on a rise with a tiny figure standing beside it, looking up. He couldn’t be sure, but the thought made his heart ache.
The plane continued to ascend, the island growing smaller and smaller until it was just a dot in the vast expanse of ocean. Monty leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes again, the hum of the engines filling his ears. He was heading back to the mainland, but his heart was broken; smashed against the jaggy rocks like a shipwreck on the wild island below.