Chapter 31 #2
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “When my father died his cousin came to take it over. My mother and I were turned out. And now she’s remarried, so I’ve no close ties to home really.”
“I’m sorry. That’s a raw deal.” Andrew gave her a sympathetic nod.
“I couldn’t imagine not being part of my family heritage.
There have been Pattersons on Skye since the time of the Vikings.
In fact we probably have some Viking heritage.
I don’t. I’m pure Celt, but my sisters have the strawberry blonde hair and freckles, so some ancestor got friendly with a Viking. ”
“Like mine,” Emma said. “At least I was a strawberry blonde in Australia, where I was in the sunshine. Here it’s faded to a dull brown.”
“Nothing dull about it,” he said, making her cheeks turn pink. “So what do you need to do in Kyleakin? Is that where the book is set?”
“I’m not sure if it’s set in a real place,” Emma said. “That’s one of the things I have to find out while I’m here. Tell me, is there a real Dun Akyn castle?”
“Oh yes, indeed,” he said. “We call it Caisteal Maol these days, but that was its original name.”
“And people live in it?”
He looked amused. “Not any more,” he said. “I’ll take you to it when we get there and you can see.”
“That’s very kind of you, if it’s not out of your way.”
“Not at all. As long as I complete my deliveries by the end of the day my time is my own. So where do you plan to stay?”
“Is there really a Kings Arms Hotel, or is that fiction?”
“Oh no. That’s real enough,” he said. “Oldest hotel on the island. I’d say it’s a bit run down these days, but you’ll be comfortable enough there.
I don’t know how you plan to get around, but buses are few and far between.
You can always hitch. It’s safe enough here.
That’s what a lot of the young visitors do. ”
“I may try to hire a car and driver,” she said.
“Good luck with that,” he said. “Not too many hire cars on the island.”
“Then I may have to resort to hitching,” she said. “I’ve never done it, but there is a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
He gave her a teasing sort of look that made her blush. “There is indeed. So did you leave a heartbroken Aussie bloke behind when you came here?”
“Not me. Footloose and fancy-free, don’t they say?”
He grinned. “And I hear that Aussie girls tend to be a bit fast and loose. Is that right?”
“Some may be.”
“An Aussie chap told me that the Sydney virgin’s club meets in a telephone box.” He chuckled.
At this mention of sex Emma glanced at him nervously. It felt as if a line might have been crossed. She gave him a disapproving frown. “Some of us want to wait for the right bloke to come along.”
“Don’t wait too long. Life’s short, you know.”
Emma didn’t quite know how to answer that, and the way the conversation was going made her uneasy. They were now quite high, going over the shoulder of a mountain, with the strait far below them. At this point the crossing was narrow, the hills of the mainland reaching out almost to touch Skye.
“So why didn’t they put the ferry here?” she asked. “Seems more sensible.”
“All of this coast has deep sea lochs that go far inland. It’s a case of you can’t get there from here. There would have to be bridges built and there is no good harbour for a town here. There’s one tiny hamlet over there and that’s where they used to swim the cattle across.”
“Swim the cattle?”
“Yes. Taking them to market on the mainland. It was a big event once a year.”
She remembered then that it had been mentioned in the book. A true fact that Iris had got right. “Gosh. I’d like to have seen that.”
“Before my time,” Andrew said. “Now they go in a lorry on the ferry. Progress is usually boring, isn’t it?”
“But safer, I’d imagine.”
He nodded. As they drove on she kept an eye out for the castle described in the book. They were far inland when another coastline came into sight. There were more mountains on the far shore, and at the tip of a promontory was a town, with a ferry leaving the port.
“That’s Kyle of Lochalsh,” Andrew said. “It’s a short ferry ride.”
“The one I’d rather have taken,” Emma agreed. “But I gather the train line has been closed.”
“It has. Bit of a bugger,” he said. “Now you need a car to get anywhere, and not everyone has a means of transport.”
“Actually this is a better idea,” Emma said. “Coming to the island the same way my main character did in the book.”
“He’s not a local then?”
“He’s a policeman from Glasgow, sent here to investigate a murder.”
“And what do you know about policemen from Glasgow?” He sounded amused.
“Absolutely nothing. I was in the city yesterday and I looked around, but I know nothing about Glasgowites or how they think.”
“Glaswegians,” he corrected. “That’s what they call themselves. And they have attitude. Edinburgh is the snooty, cultured city and Glasgow is its rough and ready neighbour. Is your policeman ready for a good fight?”
“I don’t think so,” Emma said. “He seems rather a quiet, bookish type to me.”
“Then he should have come from Edinburgh,” Andrew said. “Can you change it?”
“I can’t. My cowriter has created him.”
“And what does he or she know about Glasgow?”
“Equally little, I’m afraid.”
“Then isn’t it a bit of a cheek writing about people you know nothing about?”
“I suppose it is,” she agreed. “I’ve been told to stay up here as long as it takes, but I doubt if I can get a good feel for the people of Skye in a week or two.”
“I doubt it, too,” he agreed. “They’re not very open to strangers here, and you’ll still find plenty who speak Gaelic as their first language.” He glanced at her. “Of course I can probably find time to educate you on the locals. I usually get my evenings off.”
The road was descending into the small settlement on the water. Instead of continuing down Andrew swerved off to the right, taking a tiny lane up behind the town. It came out onto a headland.
“Well here it is,” he said, slowing the van to a halt. “Dun Akyn, just like you wanted.”
Emma stared in disbelief. Instead of a castle as described in the book this was a veritable ruin.
Only parts of the walls were still standing and the roof was long gone.
“How long has it been like this?” she asked. “Did people ever live here?”
“At the time of the Vikings it was flourishing,” he said. “The twelve hundreds. But it’s been a ruin for centuries now.”
“Oh.” Emma fought back disappointment. So Iris had just used a name that appealed to her. Nothing in the book was real. She had created an image of Skye based on a day trip.