♩
The next few days, I thought about the story in the newspaper a lot. I didn’t say anything to Granpa about it. I didn’t even know how to begin.
I was happy that the robbers had been given a taste of their own medicine. But Granpa hadn’t told me. He had lied. His last big lie, I let him off with it because I liked Portree. If I let him off with it again, he would keep lying forever and he wouldn’t be like Granpa anymore. He would be some new person that had stolen Granpa’s face and was wearing it like a mask and had left his body behind in Stirling. I needed my Granpa.
I knew who Craig was. I didn’t want it to be true, but I knew it deep down. He was one of the robbers. He had robbed the bookies in Stirling and tried again in Perth. I didn’t remember either of the robbers being called Craig, but I couldn’t make any other story make sense. He didn’t know us because he was Guard Robber. He didn’t come near us like Desk Robber.
Craig was by himself though. He had told me about his brother and I guessed that was Desk Robber. He hadn’t come to Portree for some reason. They wanted their money back. Granpa must’ve taken it. It was Craig’s job to find Granpa, but he hadn’t done it. He had failed. Guard Robber didn’t know what Granpa’s face looked like, but Desk Robber did. If Craig’s brother came up to Portree we were done for.
Craig had decided to stay in Portree now that he had a job and a girlfriend. He didn’t deserve either of them. It was all too much for me to think about. I got a headache whenever I tried to think of ways to keep Granpa safe.
Iain was taking Granpa to try on his kilt at the kilt shop. You didn’t get kilts in normal clothes shops like Primark. They were too special and you were only allowed to sell them if you were an expert.
‘And ye’ll give me a text when you get to Grace’s house?’ Granpa asked me.
‘Aye,’ I said, as I closed the front door behind me.
‘Ye sure ye dinnae want to join us?’
‘Naw, Grace told me there’s something she wants to show me.’
They drove off in Iain’s jeep. The tyres made a crunchy noise when they were reversing over the stones. They were waving at me as they went down the hill. I got on my bike and cycled along with them for a few seconds, but then Iain vroomed up the car and they went off too fast for me to catch up. There was a great smell of petrol the car left behind. I could smell it all the way down the hill, but then when I got to where the waterfall was, the smell had disappeared and it was back to the normal smell of air.
I wasn’t going to Grace’s. I didn’t care if I got in trouble because I knew I could bring up Granpa’s lies about the robbers and I wouldn’t be in trouble anymore. He would be in trouble instead. It was the ace up my sleeve.
I went back to the house. Iain always left the door unlocked. The house felt so empty without Granpa and Iain. I was nervous but I knew they wouldn’t be back for at least an hour.
Granpa’s room was the smallest in the house. I was looking for the black bag he had taken out in Perth. I wanted to know what he’d taken with him and if it could be used as evidence against him. I was ninety-nine percent sure it wouldn’t be a gun. You didn’t get guns in Scotland.
His rucksack was under the bed. I didn’t want to be a nosey parker so I closed my eyes when I opened it. I stuck my hand in and felt around for the slippery feeling of a black bag. It was like a game. I could feel a photo frame. That was his picture of Granny. Then I felt a bit of string. I went into squint mode. It was the string from my Elvis mask. It was poking out of a black bag.
I took out the rucksack and laid it on the bed. I pulled out the Elvis mask. There were spots of red on it. I tried to wipe them off but they were stuck. I used my fingernail and they popped off.
The other thing in the bag was heavy. It fell out and bounced on the covers. I didn’t know exactly what it was. It was gold and had four holes. It sort of looked like a stretched out dog’s paw. I picked it up and slipped my fingers into the holes. If it was jewellery, it was really sore to wear. You couldn’t have worn it for long. It had red on it too.
Knock knock.
Someone was at the front door. I put the heavy thing back in the black bag and put it into the rucksack. I pushed it right under the bed as far as my arms could get it. I grabbed the Elvis mask and rushed through to my room and put it under my pillow. Granpa didn’t need it. It was mine.
Knock knock.
I creeped through to the living room. Whoever was at the door had opened the letterbox and was staring at me. It was too late to hide. I opened the door. It was Mr Ferguson, Granpa’s boss from the bookies. His old boss. He looked nothing like he usually did. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and tie. He was in a T-shirt, and he had a scratchy-looking beard.
‘Mary,’ he said. ‘Is your Granpa home?’
‘Hiya, Mr Ferguson. Did you come all this way to see us?’
‘It’s not like I’ve got anything else on these days. Is he in?’
I could tell he was angry and there was no chance of getting a smile from him. I wanted to close the door.
‘He’s away out,’ I said.
‘When’s he due back?’
‘I dinnae know. Is something wrong?’
‘Don’t act innocent with me, girl,’ he said, pointing at me. ‘I know it was Arthur who planted the money in those shoes you gave me. I know it was him who phoned in the tip-off and told the police right where to fucking look.’
I pursed my lips tight together to keep from crying. Mr Ferguson was staring over the top of me to try and look inside.
‘I think you should go,’ I said, but he wasn’t paying attention.
‘I spent weeks looking for him before I found out he was hiding up here like a fucking coward. It’s lucky your old neighbour Malcolm is a gossip. You’ve got the money in there, haven’t you?’
He tried to look inside but there was nothing to see. He stepped back to look round the side of the house and I slammed the door shut. He pushed against it but I managed to get the lock turned just in time. I could hear him shouting through the glass.
‘Let me in, you stupid wee cow. Open up, you hear me? You’ve fucking had it.’
‘Please go away,’ I said.
I sat down with my back against the door. I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears. I couldn’t hear or see anything. I tried to think of good things, like when me and Granpa sang Elvis songs. Marie’s the Name (His Latest Flame). Granpa changed it to Mary’s the Name when he sang it. It was like Elvis had written the song just for me.
I opened my eyes and ears. I could hear crying. It wasn’t my crying. I had been brave and held it in. Through the glass, Mr Ferguson was leaning against the door, on the other side. He was crying like a P1 on his first day of school.
‘I’m sorry, Mary,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I left the door locked. It might’ve been a trick.
‘Go away, Mr Ferguson,’ I told him.
‘I didn’t mean to... I’m sorry.’
He stayed there for a while, sitting still and crying. I moved away from the door so he couldn’t see me anymore. I wanted him to think I was away doing something else. Really, I was still watching him through the glass. He didn’t say anything else when he stood up and walked away.
I pulled my phone out my pocket to phone Granpa, but it was out of battery. I connected it to my charger in my bedroom and as soon as it turned on again I phoned him.
‘Granpa,’ I said, when he answered. ‘Mr Ferguson was here.’
He didn’t say anything for a while.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘What happened?’
‘He was angry. He said something about the shoes we gave him and a tip-off. Then he started crying.’
‘Is he away?’
‘Aye.’
‘Have ye locked the door?’
‘Aye.’
‘Stay there. We’re coming home.’
It felt like forever till they got back. The clock in the living room knew I was paying attention to it and it ticked even louder than usual. I tried to get the little tail to stop swinging but it kept going back and forward when I took my hand away.
I was watching from the window when the jeep pulled in. Granpa had a kilt bag with him. I was glad they had bought it before they came back. Granpa couldn’t go to the ball if he didn’t have his kilt.
Granpa came in and dumped his bag on the couch and Iain put the kettle on.
‘Tell me everything he said to ye,’ Granpa said.
I did my best. I couldn’t remember every word. I said effing instead of fucking. Granpa couldn’t have been mad if I had said it, I was only copying Mr Ferguson. But I didn’t want to say the ‘F’ word. Swearing didn’t feel good coming out of my mouth, even if Grace could do it without caring. That was something we didn’t have in common. We had different personalities.
‘Mary, I’ve no idea what he’s talking aboot,’ Granpa said. ‘He must’ve got sacked after we left and he’s blaming us for some reason. D’ye remember what I told ye about Michael Jackson before he died?’
‘He went daft?’ I said.
‘Exactly. Mr Ferguson’s gone daft the same as Michael Jackson did.’
Granpa phoned the police. It wasn’t 999, but some other number which let them know you didn’t need them to rush right away. He told them all about Mr Ferguson and how he had terrified his granddaughter. Terrified, that was a good word for how scared I’d been. But I’d kept him out of the house. I was quite proud of that. I was strong. The lock on the door was strong too. We made a good team.
‘I remember the days,’ Iain said. ‘When you never would’ve trusted the police, Arthur.’
‘What am I supposed to do?’ Granpa said. ‘Hunt round Portree for this nutter? We’re settled here, Iain. We dinnae need any more trouble.’
I was glad Granpa didn’t want to beat up Mr Ferguson. I hoped he didn’t beat up anyone ever again. I hoped those days were behind him and he’d never turn around to see them.
I wasn’t allowed out the house for the rest of the day. The police were keeping an eye out for Mr Ferguson and so were we. When we needed something from the shop, it was Iain who went. I was to be within earshot of Granpa at all times.
I got a lot of keyboard practice done. And the weather wasn’t that sunny, so I wasn’t desperate to go outside. Granpa kept asking how I was and I always said “fine”. I wasn’t scared like he thought I would be. I couldn’t tell him, but I knew he had beaten up the two robbers. It was the very last thing I wanted to happen, but I was sure Granpa could win in a fight against Mr Ferguson. Mr Ferguson’s belly was big and when he wore a shirt at the bookies, it was stretched tight and looked like the buttons were going to pop off. Every now and again I could see little bits of his hairy belly. It was horrible.
The police phoned in the morning. Granpa tried to shoo me away to the other room, but I stayed so that I could listen. Iain was allowed to stay, so why did I have to get out? I could only hear Granpa’s part of the chat.
‘Mark Ferguson, that’s him,’ Granpa said down the phone. ‘Ye’re kidding... Christ... I understand... I’d really rather no, pal, she’s still shaken up... we’d rather forget the whole thing... naw, no wife or kids... please, dinnae tell this sister of his what happened yesterday, no need to drag his name through the gutter... thanks again for letting us ken.’
Granpa put the phone down and sighed.
‘Did they get Mr Ferguson, Granpa?’
‘They did.’
‘So we dinnae need to worry about him coming back?’
‘Aye, the police gave him a good scare. It’s all over, Mary.’
I smiled at Granpa. He went into the kitchen and had a drink of whisky. Iain wasn’t having one with him though.
‘Too early, even for me,’ Iain said.
I guessed Granpa’s shoulder was really hurting.
The only good thing about Mr Ferguson turning up was that it took my mind off the robbers and what Granpa took from them. I knew no matter what I said to Granpa, he would have an excuse. He always did. I thought maybe I should wait till the summer was over to tell Granpa what I knew. That would give me enough time to come up with a good way to tell him. And I didn’t want to do anything that might stop me from going to the ball.
After lunch, I went out for a walk to have a think. I told Granpa I was meeting Grace, but I wasn’t. He didn’t check or say, “I’d better walk you, Mary”. Maybe I was getting fantastic at kidding people on, or he was too busy drinking whisky to care.
Going to the top of the tower wasn’t the same without Grace there. The views weren’t as fun if I couldn’t tell Grace what I saw. There were a lot of people on the Lump. More than usual. It was a Monday and it was usually quieter because people were at work. A lot of people stood at the gap in the trees where the path went round to the Bowl. I came down from the tower and walked towards them.
People were standing and chatting to each other. Not in a hurry to get anywhere. I went round the outside of the group, through the gap so I could get to the Bowl. I heard people saying,
‘Terrible.’
‘This kind of thing doesn’t happen in Portree.’
‘He wasn’t from here, was he?’
When I got to the front of the crowd, two policemen were blocking the way. A piece of blue and white tape was stretched between two trees to keep everyone out. I tugged at the bright, yellow jacket of one of the policemen.
‘Why can’t we go round to the Bowl?’ I asked him.
‘Hello there, wee one,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid this part of the hill is off limits today. But it might be back open tomorrow.’
‘Why?’
‘You’d be better to go and play somewhere else today. Okay, darling? Great.’
He smiled, then stood back up straight and looked around like he was on guard.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
He was pretending as if I wasn’t even there. I waved my hands but he still wouldn’t look down. I wondered if he’d look down if I gave him the finger. But I wasn’t brave enough for that.
I went to the harbour and left my bike up against the rails. I peeked into the chippy to see if Craig was working. He wasn’t. I was glad. The thought of seeing him again made me nervous.
I watched the seagulls. Sometimes on telly, when people needed to make a big decision, they’d go and sit by themselves and stare at some hills or water and then they’d realise the right decision to make. I wondered if watching the seagulls and the water would work, but it wasn’t helping. The seagulls were doing their weird things like normal and when I watched them I forgot about everything else, which felt good.
I heard Andy’s voice. He was in the chippy talking to the men behind the counter. They were laughing and talking quite loudly. Banter, that was the word for it. Men liked to have banter which was like what Granpa and Iain did, making fun of each other and things. Grace and I didn’t make fun of each other, only men liked banter. Girls didn’t see the point and preferred being nice to each other instead.
Andy came out of the chippy and I ran to catch up with him.
‘Hiya, Andy,’ I said. ‘Do you remember me?’
He was drinking a bottle of Irn-Bru and he got a bit of a fright because I came out of nowhere and some of the juice squirted out his mouth.
‘Oh, hi,’ he said. ‘Don’t tell me... starts with ‘M’, right?’
‘Mary.’
‘Mary. Of course. How goes it, Mary? Are you winning?’
‘Winning what?’
‘It’s just a saying. How are you?’
‘I’m okay. Have you seen any dolphins since me and my Granpa came on the boat?’
He took a bite of his Mars bar.
‘Eh... one fella said he did, but I think he was just trying to impress the Sheila he was with. I’ll tell you what, though, no one’s fallen in since that bloke did. That’s all I’m worried about.’ He moved to walk by me ‘You take care, Mary.’
I stepped into his path so he couldn’t walk unless he was going to stomp on me, which I knew he wouldn’t. He was too nice.
‘Can I ask you a question, Andy?’
‘Have I got a choice in the matter?’ he said.
‘If someone you knew lied to you, then said sorry and that they wouldn’t lie to you ever again, but then did lie again, what would you do?’
‘Well, it depends how well I knew this person. And if I thought maybe they were lying to protect me. Sometimes grown-ups use these things called ‘little white lies’, which are okay.’
‘Lying’s never okay,’ I told him.
Andy took another bite of his Mars bar and chewed while he thought of how to answer.
‘Mary, let me give you an example,’ he said, finally. ‘I proposed to my girlfriend last year. I took her over to Raasay and she was totally surprised. I told her we were going for a hike and a little picnic. I told her a little white lie so I could surprise her. Y’see? Don’t you think it was okay for me to lie then?’
‘I suppose so. Did your girlfriend like it?’
‘She bloody loved it. It’s about the only romantic thing I’ve ever done. She never saw it coming. That’s also why I tell that story to anyone who’ll listen. Makes me seem like a decent bloke. Right, Mary?’
I nodded.
‘I hope I’ve been of some help, darl,’ he said, and he took a big swig of his juice, ‘And I hope you patch it up with whoever’s been lying to you.’
He walked past me and down towards his boat. He had a bit of a strut like cocky people did because they thought they were cool. But he actually was cool so it suited him. I let him off with it.
I went to Grace’s to tell her what Andy had said. No one answered for ages, then Tom came to the door.
‘Is Grace in?’ I asked.
‘No,’ Tom replied. ‘Her and Dad are away to Inverness for the day.’
‘She didnae tell me about that.’
He shrugged like he didn’t know what to say.
‘I thought you werenae getting out of bed for anything,’ I said.
‘But you kept ringing the bell!’
‘Sorry, I wanted to ask Grace something. Tom, if you found out someone you knew was a really big liar, what would you do?’
He scratched inside his stookie while he was thinking.
‘I’d tell them to piss off,’ he said, sniffing his fingers. ‘And I’d never be friends with them again.’
‘Really?’
‘Too right. And then I’d karate chop them in the face.’
‘I didnae know you could do karate,’ I said.
He tried to do a karate pose but almost fell down and had to grab on to his crutches.
‘I haven’t had proper lessons,’ Tom said. ‘But Dad says I’m a natural. I could get to black belt in like, a week, if I wanted to. But I can’t be bothered.’
‘That sounds really good,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should be bothered and then you’d have a black belt.’
He rolled his eyes.
‘It’s not about having the black belt, Mary. I don’t even want it.’
‘Then how will anyone know you’re good at karate?’
‘Because I karate chop people who lie to me. I do it in front of everyone at school, so everyone knows not to lie to me.’
‘Right,’ I sighed. ‘By the way, Tom, I want to say sorry for not staying with you after you broke your leg. I felt sick when I saw the bone sticking out.’
‘That’s okay. I just wish someone had taken a picture of it so I could show it to people at school.’
‘When you got hurt, I realised that I want us to be friends, Tom. Is that okay?’
He went a bit red and started scratching the back of his neck and looking away.
‘I suppose. Thanks, Mary.’
‘Maybe you can come and play with Grace and me next time.’
He made a disgusted face.
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘As long as Grace has a shower first.’
Andy thought I should be okay with Granpa lying. Granpa was only doing it so I wouldn’t get upset. Tom thought I should karate chop Granpa in front of everyone, but I didn’t have any karate training. They were both boys though and I knew I would get a better answer from Grace —or maybe even Mrs MacLeod.
‘Tom,’ I said. ‘D’you know anything about the police being up at the Lump?’
‘Dad said something about that this morning before he left. He said a man’s hanged himself.’
‘I’m being serious.’
He looked upset like I’d called him a liar.
‘So am I!’ he said. ‘How much d’you want to bet?’
I walked away. Tom was obsessed with hanged men. He wasn’t good at fibbing like me and Granpa were.