That night I slept better than I had in months. I didn’t wake up until seven, which was luxurious. I was eager to get going and dressed quickly and went down to breakfast. The gal at the reception desk handed me a note. She was a dark-haired lass, and I wondered if she might be on the cousin side. I grinned to myself. I was in danger of checking out the entire population of Stornoway at this rate.
She handed me a note from Gill, who had phoned to say he was busy today but would like to meet later for dinner. I was just as glad, because there were things I wanted to do on my own. I had a hurried breakfast, exchanged a few stilted words with the German couple, and escaped to my little toy car. Overnight, some kind of body-learning seemed to have taken place and, except for the occasional flinch when I felt I was drifting too far over to the right, I was more comfortable driving. I got myself out of Stornoway with only one missed turn and set off to Duncan’s house.
I’d phoned ahead from the hotel to say I was coming, not wanting to risk finding Joan and him rolling around in bed together. Not to worry. By the time I arrived he was getting ready for the herding demonstration. Over a dozen people this time. The sun was teasing but there was no rain and it was warmer. The sheep were munching away placidly and the dogs were circling obsessively around Duncan.
I went into the house, ringing the bell first. Joan was in the kitchen washing up, but for a brief moment, I didn’t recognize her. Her hair was back to being dark brown and the waves had reappeared.
She saw my surprise and patted her head self-consciously. “I went back to my own colour.”
“Were you hoping blondes have more fun?” I asked.
She gave me a sharp look to see if I was getting at her, but I was deliberately bland. I knew why she’d dyed her hair.
“We all need a change from time to time.”
She turned the tables on me by scrutinizing my own haircut. “You could do with a trim. And in my opinion, you’d look better with longer hair. It would balance out that jawline.”
“I must have inherited it from my father... whoever he was.”
The air went dead around her. “Don’t start with me, Christine. I’m not up to it.”
She did, in fact, look exhausted, and the bruises on her face were like dark shadows. Of course, I felt guilty at my jab.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Okay. How’re you?”
“Good.”
“I hope they’ll have settled the accident by the time you leave.”
I saw on her face how much she wanted me to stay, because she was afraid.
“How did you feel after the interview with Gill yesterday?”
“I was relieved, really. Your officer friend was very nice. He put me at my ease.” A pause to find the chink. “But that’s his job isn’t it? He’s trained to appear sympathetic.”
I nodded. “Yes, he’s the family liaison officer.”
Joan scrubbed at some more dishes and stacked them in the draining board. I took up a tea towel and started to dry. There were no wine glasses, I noticed. Just mugs, all with a border-collie design, and plates.
“It would help your case if we could find the person who was at the crash site. They could verify that you weren’t driving.”
She snorted. “They’ll never come forward. It was their fault we went off the road.”
“Don’t forget Sarah had been drinking. That was a factor.”
Joan slumped and concentrated on wiping off the counter. Tears had welled up in her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away with the end of her plaid scarf, which she was wearing again.
“How would we even find that other driver?”
“The police can put out a notice asking for anybody who saw a car on the road at that time to come forward.”
She shrugged. “The road was deserted. Nobody was out.”
The door opened and Duncan came in with one of the dogs.
“I’m leaving Nic inside. She’s after limping again. Good crowd today.” He took a look at Joan and immediately glared at me as if it were my fault. He asked her in Gaelic if she was all right, and she dragged up a smile for him, which elicited a quick peck on the cheek. It was all very chummy and familial. Then he breezed out again.
Nic ran to the window, rearing up on her hind legs to watch him. Joan clucked at her.
“Come on, Nicky. Come and have a bicky.”
The dog got down, limped over to her, and sat down expectantly.
“That’s my girl.”
Joan was so comfortable in this kitchen. I’d never seen her quite like this. In spite of her fatigue, there was a relaxation in her face and body that I didn’t remember seeing before. She caught my eye.
“I know we have a lot to talk about, Chris. And we will, I promise. Just give me a couple of days.”
“That’s fine. And in the meantime, I wondered how you would feel about some more exploring of what happened on Friday night. ”
“Using hypnosis you mean?”
“No, let’s just talk, go over what you do remember. More might come back to you.”
“Good. I don’t want to do that trance thing again. It was too upsetting.”
“Okay. Can we have a cup of coffee first?”
“I think he has some.” She opened the cupboard doors. “We both drink tea. Yes, here we go... but it’s instant and probably stale at that. You know how fussy you are.”
“Tea will be fine then. I drink it black, remember?”
I was the visitor, the almost-stranger that she was accommodating.
Nic walked over to the door and lay down, her nose to the crack. I could hear Duncan’s voice coming through the megaphone. While Joan filled the kettle, I went to the window to watch the dogs do their tricks. From here, Duncan cut a good figure. Tall and muscular, he was every inch the trusty shepherd with his crook and his tartan trousers and tweed hat. He wasn’t the usual type Joan had gone for in the past. Those men were typically low-end guys with low-end jobs — and attitudes to match. Joan and Duncan had been childhood sweethearts, but I wondered how long nostalgia would sustain the present reality of what they had both grown into. And how long was the “new” Joan going to be around?
“Here you are.” Joan put the teapot and a mug on the table and we sat down.
“I particularly wanted to go back to what you said about somebody coming to the house. If it was a neighbour, they may have seen you leave, and they could verify that Sarah was driving.”
“You’re talking as if you don’t believe me.”
“No, no, that’s not true. I do believe you. But from the court’s point of view, it would help to have a witness. Can you recall anything more? Do you think it was a man or a woman?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Do you remember if they rang the bell?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so, but it’s very vague.”
Nic came back and flopped at Joan’s feet. She reached down and began to twiddle with the dog’s black fur.
“Do we need to go over this again? All I cared about was who was driving the bloody car, and now I know... thanks to you. I appreciate what you did, Chris. I am proud of you.”
Another milestone, but I was uncomfortable with this overt maternal attitude. I moved on too quickly.
“We don’t have to go over it all again if you don’t want to, but it’s a loose end that I’d like to tidy up.”
Joan drank some of her tea, then put down the mug. “All right. But no hypnosis.”
“I can’t hypnotize you unless you are willing.”
“What do you want me to do then?”
“I suggest you sit in the armchair, where you’ll be more comfortable.”
Still moving stiffly, she complied and sat down, pulling her scarf closer around her neck.
“Now close your eyes and take in a deep breath. And exhale. That’s it. Do it again.”
Her face settled into the lines and shape that always underlie our usual waking expressions. Joan’s face wasn’t mean-looking or angry. It was etched deep with sorrow. A face that had known much grief. Another surprise to me. Why hadn’t I seen that before?
“All right? Comfortable?... Think back to the night of the accident again. Put yourself in MacAulay’s living room. In your mind’s eye, try to see where Tormod and Sarah are.... They’re having some kind of row.”
Joan opened her eyes, blue and sharp at the moment. “It wasn’t a row. She was angry with him, but he wasn’t mad at her. It takes two people to make a barney.”
I couldn’t resist asking, “Why was she angry?”
“I told you before, I don’t know. Probably something to do with business.”
“Had he decided not to sell the house to the Norwegians after all?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Her commission then?”
She looked away. “Probably.”
Lie. I was disappointed, I had to admit. I would have liked it if she had come clean.
“Let’s go on then. Why don’t you close your eyes? It might be easier. You are interrupted by somebody outside. What does Tormod do?”
“Does that person come into the room?”
“No, he stops them in the hall.”
Got it! No doorbell, and somebody who felt free enough to walk in.
“How long is Tormod in the hall with this person?”
“Not long, a couple of minutes at the most.”
“What do you do while he’s out there?”
She sighed. “I got some tissues for Sarah to blow her nose.”
“Was she crying?”
“Yes.”
“Why was that?”
Joan opened her eyes again, but she stayed slouched down in the chair. “Drinkers cry easily... as you know all too well.”
This last comment wasn’t said defiantly, but with sad resignation — a woman who was coming to terms with her own past and not liking what she saw there. I felt a sudden and unexpected rush of feeling towards her.
“I’m glad you’re going straight. Has it been hard?”
“It was at first. It’s easier now.”
I think I would have held on to this rare, rare moment of softness between us, but Nic suddenly jumped to her feet and ran to the window, barking. I heard applause coming from outside. Joan sat up.
“Sounds like they’ve finished. I promised Duncan I’d help in the gift shop. I’d better go.” She paused. “Don’t worry about all this, Chris. You’ve been a great help. If we don’t find any witnesses, so be it. I know the truth now, and I’ll just have to trust they’ll believe me. Do you want to come and help me in the shop?”
“Another time. I’m going to drive around a bit. Catch this sun while I can.”
“Come on back and have dinner with us then.”
“I can’t. Gill asked me to go for dinner with him.”
“Did he?” she smiled. She wanted to say a lot more than that, but she didn’t. I knew she didn’t want to spoil the moment either, and comments about my dates were guaranteed to do so.
I followed her outside. The crowd of dog-watchers seemed more in the mood for buying than the last group I had seen, and they were all going in the direction of the barn. Duncan saw us and waved. With a light tap on my arm, Joan scurried off.
I walked back to my car. Next stop, Andy MacAulay’s house.