Entry Island(44)

Most everyone had their heads covered. The men with top hats or cloth caps, the women with all manner of bonnets tied under the chin to stop them from blowing away. The clack of horses’ hooves, and the metal of cartwheels on cobbles filled the air, along with the wind and the voices of people that were carried on it.

I heard a Gaelic greeting: ‘Ciamar a tha thu?’ A young woman’s voice. But I didn’t turn, because I couldn’t imagine that she was addressing me. Until she said it again, and it seemed as if she were right behind me. I turned and found myself looking into the fine face of a pretty teenage girl, her black hair piled up in pleats, a dark coat open over a long dress that buttoned high up to the neck and trailed almost to the ground. She looked at me with knowing blue eyes that seemed to have a smile in them. ‘Bet you don’t know who I am,’ she said to me in English.

I smiled. ‘Of course I do.’ And I hoped she couldn’t hear the thumping of my heart. ‘How could I forget? My arms are still aching from carrying you all that way.’

It pleased me to see her blush, and I pressed home my advantage.

‘I thought you couldn’t speak Gaelic.’

She shrugged casually. ‘I don’t. But I learned a few phrases – just in case I should ever bump into you again.’

Now it was my turn to blush. I could feel the colour rising high and hot on my cheeks.

She had regained the advantage and smiled. ‘But the last time we met you couldn’t speak any English.’

I felt the initiative swing back in my direction, ‘I took English at school,’ I said. ‘Learned the whole language, just in case I should ever come across you lying in a ditch again.’ Her eyes widened a little. ‘But I haven’t had much chance to use it since I left.’

Her face clouded. ‘You’ve left school already?’

‘Three years ago.’

Now she was astonished. ‘But you couldn’t have been any more than …’ She searched my face, trying to guess my age.

I helped her out. ‘Twelve at that time.’

‘That’s far too young to be leaving school. I’ll be tutored until I’m eighteen.’

‘I was needed to work on the croft.’

‘What kind of work?’

‘Well, right now I’m drystane dyking.’

She laughed. ‘Are you still speaking English, or what?’

I smiled back at her, enjoying the laughter in her eyes. ‘It means I’m building stone walls without mortar. Right now, a sheep fank up on the hill above Baile Mhanais. That’s the village where—’

She cut me off. ‘I know where you live.’

‘Do you?’ I was surprised.

She nodded. ‘I came once and stood on the hill and looked down at it. I was pretty sure I saw you on the shore. It looked as if you were gathering seaweed.’

I was excited by the thought that she had taken the trouble to come and see where I lived, but tried to hide it. ‘That’s quite possible.’

She cocked her head and looked at me curiously. ‘Why would you gather seaweed?’

‘It’s good fertiliser. We spread it on the lazy beds.’ I could see from her expression that she had no idea what I was talking about, and I didn’t want to seem like some peasant boy, so I changed the subject. ‘A tutor’s a teacher, right?’

‘A private teacher, yes.’

‘So do you go somewhere to be tutored?’

‘No, I’m tutored at the castle. My tutor has a room there.’

A group of boys pushing a cart at the gallop almost knocked us over, shouting at us to get out of the way, and we started walking along the seafront. ‘It must be amazing to live in a castle,’ I said.

But she didn’t seem impressed. ‘You live in one of those squat little stone houses with straw roofs,’ she said.

‘A blackhouse, aye.’

She shuddered. ‘I would hate that.’

Which made me laugh. ‘They’re not so little. There’s plenty of room inside for folk in one end and cows at the other.’ I knew this would get a reaction and it did.

There was horror on her face. ‘You have cows living in your house?’

‘It keeps us warm,’ I said. ‘And there’s always fresh milk on tap.’

She shuddered. ‘It sounds medieval.’

‘Not the same as living in a castle, I imagine, but I like it well enough.’

We walked on in silence for a short time and I stole a glance at her. She was quite tall. Past my shoulder, anyway, and there was a light in her smile that gave me butterflies in my tummy. She caught me looking at her and her face coloured a little, eyes dipping, a tiny smile turning up the corners of her mouth.