Chapter Twelve Kirkwall Airport
Chapter Twelve
Kirkwall Airport
Evie was waiting nervously at the airport for the morning flight from Edinburgh. She had barely slept the night before, going over and over in her mind whether she had done the right thing.
Three cups of strong coffee had left her jittery, clammy and queasy. She kept looking at the arrivals board and hoping the flight would be delayed indefinitely, but the weather was fair and mild with no wind and the plane was due to land on time.
Amelia had wasted no time in taking Evie up on her offer, booking a flight for the very next week and telling Evie in an email dotted with exclamation marks about her excitement.
She would arrive in Heathrow in the wee small hours of that morning from her flight from Seattle to JFK in New York, sleep at Heathrow and take the first flight to Edinburgh and then on to Kirkwall.
Evie remembered how tired and fragile she herself had felt arriving back to Orkney.
Amelia would no doubt be similarly exhausted, and probably in need of a nap.
She wondered if she would recognise Amelia, if there would be some kind of family connection, before deciding she was being silly, and wishing she’d asked for a photo.
Through the glass doors, Evie saw the plane come into view and descend through a clear blue sky to touch down on the runway. A few minutes later, Evie watched the passengers climb down the steps from the plane, breathe in the sweet, salty air and hurry inside.
A young couple with a tiny newborn bairn were first through the door into the terminal, welcomed with hugs and tears from already besotted grandparents.
They were followed by a group of wide-eyed young archaeologists on their way to a dig near Skara Brae, excitedly chatting about the treasures they hoped to find.
A couple of twitchers with state-of-the-art binoculars and cameras asked about ferry times to North Ronaldsay and enthused about the rare birds they hoped to spot there.
As time went on, Evie thought Amelia must have missed the flight as more and more locals and visitors disembarked and poured inside to be met by friends and family.
Tourists wandered off to pick up their hired cars, always astounded to find the keys were in the glove compartment and they could just drive off.
Finally, a woman who looked about her own age, slim and lithe, ran down the stairs, gazed up at the sky, took a big deep breath, spun around and strode confidently into the airport on her sky-high heels.
She let out a shriek when she saw Evie and teetered over to her, giving a hug that made Evie stiffen and tense up.
“You must be Evie. I am SO glad to meet you! I’m Amelia. I am super excited to be here, this airport is SO cute. And the sea, it’s just SO beautiful. You are SO lucky to live here. I can’t wait to explore!”
Evie was stunned, both by Amelia’s whirlwind energy and by their physical similarity.
Aside from Amelia’s long black hair, and the fact she was about three inches shorter, Evie could have been looking in a mirror. They even had the same emerald-green eyes. They were like twins. Two peas in a pod. It was uncanny.
“Oh my gosh!” exclaimed Amelia, clutching at Evie’s arms and looking at her intently, before drawing her into another hug. “Look at us. There’s no way we aren’t related.
You look like the sister I never had! I just know we are going to be the best of friends.”
All of this was said in a loud, harsh American accent that sounded as though Amelia was shouting into a gale. People waiting on their luggage couldn’t help wincing but also smiled at this enthusiastic woman who was clearly beyond excited to visit their island home.
Evie eventually forced herself to say something. She stuttered, “Amelia, you’ve taken me by surprise.”
“Ha!” Amelia replied, with a wink and a flash of her straight white teeth in a smile. You were thinking I’d be a wrinkled old grandma. I’m actually not that much older than you, Evie. My mom had me when she was forty-five and my dad was in his late fifties when I came along.”
Evie tried to backtrack. “N-no, of course I didn’t think that I– um– your age didn’t enter my head.”
“It’s OK, don’t worry about it! I’m forty-eight years old and I’ve had all the Botox a body could stand, but I draw the line at a face lift.” She giggled. “I actually can’t believe I’m really here. It’s just so cute and you all sound as though you are singing with that adorable accent.”
This was uttered in a fake baby voice and Amelia made one of those really annoying pretend pouts to show just HOW cute she felt everything was. Evie felt a jolt of irritation before telling herself not to be so judgemental.
‘Now that she’s actually here, I have to at least give her a chance,’ she thought. ‘Although she is a bit much.’
Amelia didn’t draw breath and chirruped, “I have so much to ask you about everything and I just don’t know where to start. Listen to me going on and on. I guess I’m just a bit nervous, Evie. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m just super happy to meet you and to actually be here.”
She gave Evie a beaming smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Evie immediately felt a bit ashamed. Of course, Amelia was nervous. It was a huge thing to come halfway round the world to try and find your family.
“Don’t worry,” said Evie. “I feel the same. It’s bound to be a little strange at first, but you’ll be very welcome.”
They picked up Amelia’s tiny suitcase, and she oohed and aahed over Florence which made Evie warm to her a little more.
“Why don’t I drop you at the hotel and you could have a rest and then we could have a chat later? You must be tired after such a long journey.”
“Oh no, Evie, I am just fine and dandy, and I don’t want to waste a moment of being here! I feel really refreshed. It must be this pure clean air.”
Evie had to admit that Amelia looked as though she’d just come back from three weeks in the Maldives.
She was glowing. Her skin was perfect, and her biscuit-coloured jumpsuit was pristine and barely wrinkled.
She was also wearing those impossible high spiky-heeled sandals that would have killed Evie’s feet in five minutes flat.
Amelia continued, “I want to say right from the start, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. You must be so busy with all your painting and running the gallery.”
“Oh, thanks, Amelia – but that’s OK.”
She was interrupted by Amelia who had barely heard her reply.
“I was wondering, who’s the other lady who runs it with you? The one with the most fabulous dress sense?”
“Oh, that must be Freya.”
“Freya! I can’t wait to meet her. And then there’s the two little children you babysit for. They are just adorable.”
Evie felt a tiny twinge of discomfort – how did Amelia know all that about her?
As if she’d read her mind, Amelia said, “I’m sorry, I’ve been stalking you and your friends on Instagram.
I hope you don’t mind, but I am just so hungry for any information.
You really do have a wonderful life here.
So many friends and with such a successful business.
I just want to know everything about you. ”
Evie wondered why this made her feel so uneasy, after all she had tried to look Amelia up on social media, too, and she was being charming and friendly.
Evie didn’t put much on Instagram – anything she did was to promote the gallery – but Freya, Delima, Kate and some of the others all followed her account, and she knew Freya loved posting colourful photos and sweeping landscapes of the island for everyone to see.
On the other hand, she was coming across as what Kate would witheringly call ‘full of herself’, but in fairness that could just be put down to an over-enthusiastic eagerness to please. Evie decided to change the subject.
“Well, if you’re sure you’re not tired, we can drop your bag off and then I can take you for a drive if you like and then you can come to mine for a bit of tea?”
Amelia said that all sounded absolutely wonderful.
“Alright,” said Evie. “Of course, at some point you need to meet Freya, who knew Sheila and Cara, and you’ll want to go to Hrossey to meet the cousins.”
“Ah, yes. Tell me, do they have red hair?”
“They do,” said Evie, wondering if Amelia had somehow managed to look them up too.
Amelia smiled. “Well we have something in common. I’m a carrot top too.
” She flicked her long black hair and added conspiratorially, “I started dying my hair years ago. I got bullied at school and called all sorts of names. Of course, I should have just ignored it all but having no mom and such an ancient old fart for a dad, I was always being beat up on.”
There was silence. Evie wasn’t too sure how she felt about her own grandfather being called an ‘old fart’ even though she didn’t know him and he had never been part of her life, but that small glimpse into Amelia’s childhood made her feel sorry for her. It sounded tough.
Evie replied: “I’m sorry you went through that. My dad used to say that he would rather his daughters were being bullied than them being the bullies and I always thought that was very wise.”
“Forgive me, Evie, but that’s a crock.” She put her feet up on the dashboard and took out a packet of cigarettes.
“You don’t mind if I smoke do you? Filthy habit, but I’m down to a couple a day and I’m gasping after the flight.”
Evie did mind. She minded very much indeed, but she felt she couldn’t say anything to this increasingly unsettling woman who looked so much like her. She murmured “Of course not” feeling like a total blancmange.
“Want one?” said Amelia.
“No, thanks, I don’t smoke.”
At least Amelia cracked open the window slightly. “That’s OK. Now where were we? Oh yes, we were making a plan to go and see Freya and of course the cousins in Hrossay.”
She bombarded Evie with questions. “Is it easy to get there? What’s the island like? Do you have to get a fishing boat? Do they have wifi there? God, do they even have electricity?”