Chapter 40
Emma sat hunched over in the passenger seat as Jock drove away, the engine roaring in protest on the steep road.
“What was that all about?” he asked. “Did that man touch you? Hurt you?”
“He was going to,” she said. “I got scared and ran away. He was trying to find me. I hid.”
She looked up at Jock. “How did you find me? How did you know to come looking for me?”
“I had to drop off a woman on this side of the island,” he said.
“And seeing that you hadn’t telephoned me this morning, I stopped by at the hotel.
Mrs Bruce told me you’d be going to the Fairy Pools and then to lunch with Andrew Patterson.
Knowing his reputation with the ladies, I thought I’d just keep an eye out for you. ”
“Thank God you did,” she said. She paused, thinking. “But he told me he’d spoken with you and you’d recommended the Fairy Pools.”
“That’s a damnty lie,” Jock said. “I’d nae had any contact with him this morning.
He just wanted to get you alone, I can see that now.
” He looked across at her. “He’s nae a good man, Andrew Patterson.
In fact he was charged with rape when he was a student on the mainland.
But his father has powerful connections.
They got the best lawyers and absolutely trashed that poor girl’s reputation.
Made her out to seem like a proper tart who’d go with anyone.
So Andrew got off and that poor girl was completely broken. She killed herself, you know.”
The thought flashed through Emma’s head that Andrew might have killed that girl, as punishment for taking him to court.
She took this a step further. Had there always been bad blood in the Patterson family?
Had one of them killed Mr Graham, and the family knew about it and didn’t want it revealed?
She realized that the sooner she left this island the better.
“I think I should go back to London,” she said. “Nothing good has come out of this visit—apart from meeting you, of course.”
He smiled. “Those Pattersons, they don’t play by the rules. You know a century ago they drove crofters off their lands so they could run sheep and cattle. Turned them out. Burned down their cottages and burned their crops.”
“What happened to them?”
“Some of them became fishermen, but many more went abroad—to America or Australia. Everywhere was looking for settlers in those days.”
Australia. Emma toyed with this thought.
Had something similar happened to her grandparents that made them leave their homeland?
When she got home she’d ask her cousins about the family history.
When she got home. Those words bounced around her head.
Suddenly she had an overwhelming desire to escape, to go back to somewhere safe and familiar.
She’d give her report to Iris and then book a passage on the next boat.
Having made this decision she felt a sense of calm.
She’d go back to the hotel, pack up and leave whether she had heard from Iris or not.
Surely Iris would not have anticipated that Emma would stir up a hornet’s nest when she came to Skye?
Jock glanced across at Emma. “You’re shivering,” he said. “Let’s find somewhere to get you a cup of tea.”
Emma nodded. “That would be nice. I was standing in a freezing-cold stream.”
She thought she heard Jock mutter “Bloody man.”
They came into Broadford and stopped at a café where Jock ordered her tea and a bacon sandwich. Then, feeling refreshed and warmer, they continued on to Emma’s hotel.
“If I were you I’d lock your door,” Jock said. “Just to be on the safe side. I don’t think those Pattersons take defeat lightly.” He paused, thinking. “If you like I could stay around for a wee while.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” Emma said. “Mrs Bruce is there and I should be safe in a hotel. Besides, I’m just going to pack and then leave.”
“Should I wait to drive you to the ferry?”
“Oh, I can walk. It’s not far,” she said.
“No. That’s not right. You give me a call when you want to be picked up, all right?”
“You’ve been very kind, Jock,” she said. “I can’t thank you enough. And let me settle up how much I owe you.”
She paid him more than he had asked, waved and went into the hotel.
She didn’t see Mrs Bruce and was glad that she didn’t have to explain her soaking wet trousers and shoes.
There was no note on her door or in her room, so presumably there had been no telephone call from Tony or Iris.
Emma felt annoyed by this. Why was any communication taking so long?
Had Iris’s dementia suddenly worsened? Was she unable to make a decision?
Then surely Tony would have phoned to tell her to hang on for the moment.
It was clear she didn’t matter at all. An annoying whisper in her head said that Iris must have known this trip could be dangerous, and that was why she sent a nobody to do her work for her. A nobody who didn’t matter.
Emma took down her suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and started to pack.
This story had clearly affected Iris. Why?
She had made it seem that she had only toured Skye for a day or two, but she must have done a good deal of research here.
How much had she known? Unless she had turned the newspaper articles into fiction she knew a murder had taken place.
Did she know who had killed Alistair Graham?
Did she know where he was buried? And what was her motive for stirring this up now?
Emma froze as there was a tap at her door.
“Miss Callander?” Mrs Bruce’s soft voice. “Are you in there? There’s a young gentleman wanting to see you.”
Andrew Patterson was here at the hotel. She looked around the room in panic, eyeing the window.
“No,” she blurted out. “Tell him I won’t see him. I’m not seeing anyone.”
She couldn’t hear a conversation but Mrs Bruce said, “He says he’s come up from London to see you. He came as quickly as he could.”
Emma opened the door a few inches. Tony was standing there, a worried frown on his face.
“Emma, are you all right?” he asked. “I tried to telephone you but for some reason I couldn’t get through.
Maybe I copied the number down wrongly. So I decided to come myself.
I took the night train and then drove down from Inverness. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“Oh Tony,” she said, “you don’t know how glad I am to see you.” She choked back a sob as she opened the door.
He came to her and enveloped her in his arms. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” he said. She remained there with her head on his shoulder as he stroked her hair, feeling the tension melt from her body.
“You had a shock,” he said. “It’s never nice to be threatened. Iris didn’t seem to be too concerned. Her thought was that if you’d been warned to go you must be onto something good. But I heard the upset in your voice, and I decided to come and get you.”
“Thank you,” she said. “It was horrible. Much worse than just being threatened.”
“What?” He held her away from him so that he could see her face.
“I can’t tell you here. I can’t talk about it until we’re safely far away. I don’t know what to do, Tony, but I do know I want to get away from here as quickly as I can.”
“All right,” he said. “You finish packing and we’ll go. Although . . .” He looked back. Mrs Bruce was still hovering behind them. “I haven’t eaten since last night. I grabbed a cup of disgusting coffee and a stale bun in Inverness but nothing since. Is there any chance for a sandwich?”
“I can do better than that,” Mrs Bruce said. “I don’t know what’s upset the young lady so, but I can see that you’ve made her happy coming here. You’re her young man, are you?”
Tony glanced at Emma. “In a way,” he said.
“Yes,” Emma said. “He’s my young man, come for me from London.”
Tony flashed her a surprised glance but said nothing more.
“Then I can find you a bowl of my cock-a-leekie. That will do the trick.”
She went, leaving Tony and Emma alone.
“I’m sorry about claiming you were my young man,” she said, “but I thought it was important to show that I wasn’t alone, that I had backup.”
“What on earth happened here?” Tony asked, perching on the end of the bed as Emma took items out of drawers.
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you now. I’ll tell you later. Go and have your stew, then we’ll catch the ferry. I presume you came across from Kyle?”
“I did. Only a short crossing. The other one seemed too long.”
“It was,” Emma said. “And hard to get here from Armadale.” As she said it she remembered Andrew offering her a lift, the pleasant chat as they drove, then the subsequent night when he had kissed her and wanted more.
How easily he had switched from Prince Charming to someone who would not have thought twice about pushing her off a ledge.
Emma stowed the last items in her suitcase, double-checking the drawers and shelves. When she carried her suitcase out she found Tony rapidly wolfing down a bowl of soup, and Mrs Bruce stood up.
“I have to say I’m sorry to see you go so soon, my dear,” Mrs Bruce said as Emma asked to settle up with her.
“I was enjoying your company, but I can see that something has not gone according to plan, and I understand that you have to leave. I wish you every happiness.” She looked over at Tony, now cleaning the last of his bowl with the crust of bread.
“He seems like a nice young man. Anyone who comes up to Scotland to take care of you is worth keeping.”
Emma blinked back a tear. If only he were her young man. If only there was no Isobel, so suitable. But he was here now, he’d take her back to safety, and suddenly everything seemed all right.