Chapter 44
The weather rapidly deteriorated as they drove onward in total darkness. Wind buffeted the car while rain drummed on the roof and the windscreen wipers worked frantically to keep the view clear.
“This is awful,” Tony said. “I don’t fancy going all the way to Inverness in this. I think we should try and find somewhere to stop. I did notice a few bed and breakfast inns along the lake as I drove.”
They drove in silence. Emma’s thoughts whirled, the memory of Tony’s lips against hers so wonderful and so right.
Could it really be happening? Could she really dare to hope?
Now the dreadful driving conditions put all other thoughts from her head.
She sat up, tense and alert, gasping as small rocks bounced down the slope beside them and onto the road.
“Don’t worry.” Tony reached out and covered her hand with his. “I’m sure it can’t be too far now.”
They plunged ahead through total darkness. At times waves splashed over onto the road and tree limbs swayed in the wind. At last they spotted lights ahead and came into a small settlement.
“This is it.” Tony sounded relieved. “The place I couldn’t pronounce.” He tried to sound out the sign beside the road. “Drumnadrochit. I’m sure I saw a hotel here.”
“Yes, look over there.” Emma pointed excitedly. “The Highland Inn.”
It was an old granite building, almost like a miniature castle, and the lights were on. Tony parked as close as he could to the front door. “Let’s see if they’ve got rooms first,” he said, “then I’ll come back for the cases.”
Emma didn’t argue. The rain was a torrent now, and as she opened the door she was met with a river of water rushing towards the lake.
She made for the entrance as quickly as possible, swept along by the wind.
She had almost reached the door when there was a flash of lightning followed almost instantly by thunder.
“That’s close.” Tony came up beside her and took her arm. “Let’s get inside.”
They stepped into an empty entrance hall, dark and gloomy and lit by one anaemic lamp. There was a counter with a bell on it which Tony rang. Footsteps came from a side passage and an older woman appeared.
“Good evening,” Tony said. “We rather got caught in the storm.”
“Aye, it’s fierce enough out there tonight,” the woman said. She looked from Tony to Emma. “You’ll be wanting the one room, I’m thinking?”
Tony hesitated before saying, “No, I think it better be two rooms, please.”
“Very well, that will be thirty shillings,” the woman said.
Tony paid and the woman handed them two keys. “Next door to each other on the second floor,” she said. “But I’m thinking you might need a wee dram before going up. Go into the parlour by the fire and I’ll bring you one.”
They didn’t argue and went through to a small room in which a fire was glowing in a river rock fireplace. They sat on either side of the hearth, holding out cold, wet hands to the warmth.
“That was quite a drive, wasn’t it?” Tony said. He looked at Emma. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled at him. “I was quite surprised she immediately offered us one room. She looked old and prim.”
“I have to admit it was a tempting offer.” Tony gave her a cheeky grin. “But I don’t think this is the right time or place, do you? And you have had more than your share of excitement for one day. You need a good night’s sleep.”
“Yes.” Emma noticed how his eyes glowed in the firelight, and crinkled at the sides when he smiled. She wondered what it might have been like if Tony had said yes to the offer of one room.
The landlady appeared with a tray with two glasses of whisky and a plate of shortbread. Emma took a sip and gasped.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” she said.
“It’s good for you. It will warm you up. You’ve been through an awful lot today.” Tony took a sip of his own and coughed a little. “But it’s certainly strong.” He looked up. “Listen to that wind. Thank God we found this place.”
Emma watched him as he put down his glass, the events of the day flashing through her mind.
But she realized if she hadn’t been through so much, Tony would never have come to rescue her, and if the night had not been so wild and black he’d never have kissed her.
She thought she heard Melrose’s voice. “Everything happens for a reason, lassie.”
Tony looked up and his smile said everything.
“Are you ready to go up?” he asked.
“I am. I think I’ve certainly had enough excitement for one day.”
Tony made a dash for the car to retrieve the suitcases and insisted on carrying hers up the stairs.
The first flight was broad and carpeted, but the second was a twisting tower stair, not unlike the one in the Patterson castle.
When they were halfway up another flash of lightning appeared as Emma looked out of a narrow window.
It was followed by another great crash of thunder.
She gasped, shivered and hurried after Tony.
“Well, good night then,” Tony said after he had put her suitcase in her room. “I’m right next door if you need anything.”
They stood looking at each other, now feeling a little awkward. “Thank you for everything,” Emma said.
He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her again, then gave a nervous chuckle. “I think I’d better go before I get any more ideas,” he said. “Sleep well.” He planted another quick kiss on her forehead and left her alone.
The room was cold, but Emma found an electric fire and turned it on.
It wasn’t likely to warm up the room before she went to bed.
She undressed hastily and lay between cold sheets, hoping to warm up.
Wouldn’t it have been nice to have Tony’s arms around her, she thought.
And Tony making love to her? She had never gone all the way.
She almost did with Simon until that inner warning bell made her back off, and other men had not made her feel loved and secure enough to trust them.
But she knew she could trust Tony. Of course there was still Isobel.
She mustn’t forget her. Would he be able to walk away when it came to it?
Emma tried to put aside the nagging doubt.
She lay there but sleep wouldn’t come, the events of the day playing in her head like a newsreel.
Something was bothering her, something hovering at the edges of her consciousness.
Something she had seen . . . Her eyes shot open, realizing what it was.
That slit window in the stair. Like the one in the castle.
How had Iris ever known about that unless she had been in the castle herself?
Had the Pattersons let her in? That seemed unlikely.
A strange thought crept into her head, a thought that seemed impossible, but she toyed with it.
Iris said she’d come to Scotland on a tourist visit, a brief tour.
But she knew Jock’s name. She had sought out the governess.
She knew all the details of the actual drowning.
She knew how the people spoke and sounded.
And she knew about the black burn where Catriona lived.
Emma got out of bed, put on her robe and slippers and went out onto the landing, tapping softly at Tony’s door.
“Tony, are you awake?”
The door opened. “Emma, what’s wrong?” he asked. “Or have you decided you don’t want to take it one step at a time after all?” He was making a joke of it.
“I need to speak to you,” she said. “It’s important. Something I’ve just thought of about Iris.”
“Well come in then.” He opened the door for her. “The room is bloody freezing but there is an electric fire.” She sat on the bed and he pulled the fire closer. “Here.” He took the eiderdown off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Now, what’s worrying you?”
“Tony.” She hesitated. “Do we know that Iris is Australian? Actually know that she was born there?”
“We know she was writing books there in the twenties and came to this country in the thirties,” he said. “Everything we know about her background is what she’s told us.”
“So she could have gone to Australia as a young person? And invented a background for herself?”
“I suppose so,” he said. “What are you getting at?”
“She knows too much, Tony,” Emma said. “Now that I’ve been to Skye and heard the people talking, I can tell she’s got their speech just right.
Can you do that as a tourist in a couple of days?
And she had all the details of the tragedy right and, what’s more, she seems to know what happened to Alistair Graham and where he’s buried.
” She turned to look at him. “I’m wondering if she could be the Wild Girl herself. ”
“The Wild Girl? Remember, I haven’t read this book.”
She explained to him. “She’s given herself the pen name Blackburn. ‘Allt Dubh’ means black burn, and it’s where the Wild Girl grew up. Isn’t that a giveaway? And she knew about the window in the castle.”
“What window?”
“I realized it tonight because there’s a similar one here.
As you go up the twisty staircase there’s a slit window in the wall just like the one in the castle, and she says Melrose looked out the slit window and spotted something.
I saw that window in the Patterson castle.
How would she know about it unless she’d been there? ”
“They might have invited her in,” Tony suggested.
“Not likely, considering the way they treated me.” She shook her head.
“Listen, Tony. The Wild Girl vanished and was never seen again. What if that was Iris and she didn’t want Lily to leave.
So she slashed the sail, which was the sort of wild, impulsive thing the Wild Girl would do, and then when she found she’d actually caused their deaths, she escaped to the mainland and somehow got to Australia. Do we know what her real name is?”
“I heard once that it was Rose Byrne. Irish. But she changed it legally to Blackburn before she came to England.”
“Before she came to England, you see!” Emma gave him an excited stare. “Before she could ever have visited Skye.”
He nodded. “I see what you are getting at.”
Emma was frowning now. “There’s an awful lot of flower names involved in this, aren’t there? Lily and Rose and Iris? I wonder if there’s a way of finding out? I have a friend who works at Australia House. Perhaps she can look up Iris’s birth certificate and find out who she really was.”
Tony gave a nervous laugh. “This is almost too much to take in, Emma, but what you say is quite compelling. And it might explain why she wrote the story now. She feels guilty and she wants to get it off her chest before she dies. She might have wanted you to find the truth.”
“Yes,” Emma said. “But why me? Why bring me in? Why not you, for example? Why not just confess to your father?”
“Who knows with Iris. She’s never been straightforward to deal with. Always wanted things done her way. And she was impressed with you as a writer. She chose you to finish the story. Didn’t she say she admired your spirit of justice? She wants justice served.”
“She must really know the end of the story,” Emma said. “Does she want it told?”
“I don’t know,” Tony said. “But I do know I’m freezing right now, and so are you. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Come on. Come into bed with me.”
When she shot him a nervous look he added, “I promise I’ll behave like a gentleman tonight, but I’d rather we both don’t freeze to death.”
She gave him a shy smile as she climbed in and he pulled the covers over them. She lay with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her.
“Comfy?” he asked.
“Perfect.” She gave a small sigh of content.