“Would anybody like to respond to that?” Councillor Hamish prompted.
“Rob?” Anjuli cut in, before anybody else could answer.
A small circle opened up around Rob. “I think it’s time for a dram.”
Councillor Hamish grinned. “So it is, lad, so it is.”
The crowd began to disperse and Rob didn’t head to the glassblower’s table as Anjuli had thought he would, or to the bar. He stalked towards the exit as if the devil was after him. No! He was not going to leave her like this, not without hearing her out. Anjuli tapped at the microphone, and a few heads turned her way.
“I have something to say, Mr. Douglas,” she called out. “And I would appreciate it if you would turn around and listen.”
The first words she had uttered to him upon her return to Heaverlock. Would they also be the last?
Was Sarah Brunel taking a picture and furiously making notes? Were people gaping and whispering? If they were, Anjuli didn’t notice or care. Her attention centred exclusively on one stiff-backed man slowly pivoting to face her.
He was waiting, and yet she said nothing.
In the depths of her grief she’d travelled to the Isle of Skye and stood atop a steep cliff during a storm. Desperate with sorrow, she’d perched at the edge and gazed at the stormy sea, the urge to immerse herself in its tempestuous waters building inside her. A more powerful surge gathered momentum now, wanting to sweep Rob into every hollow and crevice of her body, absorb him when they crashed and merged.
She wanted to sing again. For him.
A single, melancholic C emerged from Anjuli’s throat, long and steady. The beginning of an ancient Gaelic love song that slowly built in intensity and longing. She sang the haunting, “Sad Am I Without Thee” to Rob, anchoring her voice to his body.
Bheir mi oro bhan o
Bheir mi oro bhan i
Bheir mi oru bhan o h
When I’m lonely, dear white heart
Black the night or wild the sea
By love’s light, my foot finds
The old pathway to thee
Sad am I...sad am I...sad am I, without thee
Thou’rt the music of my heart
Harp of joy, o cruit mo chruidh
Moon of guidance by night
Strength and light thou’rt to me
Sad am I...sad am I...sad am I, without thee...
Anjuli’s voice resonated with the pain of losing Rob, her regret at hurting him and her hope that he would love her again, and by the time the last note shimmered and faded she felt naked and exposed. Nobody clapped, talked or whispered as people waited for her to speak.
“I love you, Robert Jared Douglas. I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old and I always will. You’re brave and stubborn and honest. One of the kindest, most compassionate men I know. And if you’ll let me, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter the risk. In sickness and in health, in Heaverlock or in Hell.”
Rob stared at her, but nothing altered in his expression. If anything it twisted inwards and became more unfathomable. Distant. Had her declaration not been enough to convince him of her feelings? Anjuli willed him to believe her, to trust her with his heart. Hers had stopped pounding. Her guilt and sorrow, remarkably absent. Her mind had no more questions to ask and no advice to offer.
Anjuli launched herself into the unpredictable sea. “Will you marry me?”
Rob’s stood so still she wondered if he’d heard her, then his eyes glinted and he seemed to come to a decision. He opened his mouth, shut it, then turned his back and walked out of the pub. The heavy wood, banging against the frame, was identical to the echoes in her dream.
The sound of rejection.
* * *
The black Honda behind her was getting on Anjuli’s nerves, flashing its lights as if that would make a difference to her speed. The driver tailgated her as she meandered on the serpentine road towards Heaverlock Castle. Forty miles an hour was the fastest Ash’s car could manage these days, and Anjuli was in no mood to stop in a ditch just so Mr. Impatient could hurtle down the road at breakneck speed. So he could like it or...pass her with irate beeps and a gesture his mother would be ashamed of.
By the time she reached the tourist signpost to Heaverlock Castle it was 9:00 p.m. and the late summer sun was beginning its descent. Swathes of violet and red streaked across the sky, promising another glorious sunset. How could it look so brilliant when her world seemed bleak and colourless? Tears overflowed Anjuli’s eyes and oh, did they burn. She didn’t blink them away or wipe her face. Let the streams scour her skin; let them sink in and scar her cheeks with indelible proof of her regret.
Oh, Christ. One small song had released the drama queen.
Hadn’t she once compared herself to Scarlett O’Hara? Well, just like Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind, Rob had walked out after she’d finally declared her love. The End. Because unlike Scarlett O’Hara there would be no happy-ever-after sequel for her. For her there would be disbelief and desolation that stretched for miles. Was this how Rob had felt when she’d left him at the altar? As if the ground underneath his feet had opened and there was nothing he could do but fall straight into hell?