Page 93 of The High Island

‘She came over on the boat yesterday without permission. My daughter-in-law forbade her to go to that club. She’s only sixteen. But she got the ferry anyway. She’s not answering her phone and her mother’s going mad with worry. She called me and asked that I come here.’

‘Do you have a photo of Eilidh you could show me?’ Erling tried.

Hugh had obviously been expecting this request and had it ready on his phone. Handing it over, Erling could sense the man’s silent prayer.

It was a prayer neither Erling nor God was able to answer,because it was her. It was the girl from the harbour. The only difference was the smeared make-up, false eyelashes and the pink streak of hair.

The depth of the silence that followed was like a soundless scream.

Erling found himself saying that there was a resemblance, then asking if Hugh would like to visit the hospital to be sure. When Hugh nodded like a puppet having its strings pulled, Erling said he would take him there now.

45

They had been sitting in what could only be described as a stunned and troubled silence following Mackie’s confirmation of the name.

‘How could Ivor be sure?’ Jo said. ‘That Harald was Kris’s father. Does he say?’

‘It doesn’t explain that in the entry. Just that he knows. Maybe it was something Kris told him?’ Mackie suggested. ‘And that would explain why Ivor turned against the family. Maybe he thought Hugh, and possibly his other sons, had known and just didn’t let on.’

Families and secrets. Jo knew all about that.

‘Do you want to keep going?’ Mackie said.

‘Are you able to?’ Jo checked, thinking they should translate as much as possible before Mackie got too tired.

‘There’s not much more in here. Let’s try to get through it all. Who knows what other questions it might answer?’

The old man’s face said he was keen, but whether the stamina was there, Jo wasn’t certain.

‘Okay, but you have to tell me when you’ve had enough. There’s always tomorrow,’ she told him.

As Mackie finished his tea and set to studying the journal again, Jo considered phoning Erling to let him know about Ivor’s accusation that Harald was Kris’s father. Checking in case there had been any messages, she was taken aback to see a newsflash reporting the recovery of a body from Kirkwall harbour in the early hours of this morning. Was that why Erling had had to return to work so early?

The report was scarce in content, just indicating that a youngwoman had been brought out of the harbour and, despite attempts to resuscitate her, had been pronounced dead at the scene and taken to Balfour hospital. Her identity was as yet unknown.

She questioned again whether she should call Erling, then decided if he needed her, he would get in touch. Her job at the moment was to work with Mackie on the diary. So that was what she would do. Erling had promised to send a car to bring her back to Kirkwall, so she would continue with Mackie until either he wanted to finish or the police car arrived for her.

Mackie had dozed off, which wasn’t surprising considering how long he’d been studying the journal. Jo eased his head back against the headrest and, slipping the journal from under his hands, took it to the settee, where she’d first sat with Erling.

She’d studied the writing long enough now to make a pretty good stab at the translation herself. So she decided to try to carry on while the old man dozed.

The section that featured Kris’s name had indicated that Ivor expected trouble from the family when Kris visited Orkney. Continuing with the paragraph’s translation, Jo deciphered that Ivor had warned Kris that he might have to lie low until he, Ivor, sorted things out.

Arriving in Orkney to discover that his great-grandfather was in fact dead, and having been warned of the family’s enmity towards him, might that explain Kris’s disappearance after the funeral? Then, when the will reading appeared to put Rachael in danger too, could he have come back for her?

It was an explanation of sorts, but if, and only if, the burnt body on the beach wasn’t Kris. She found herself saying a silent prayer to that effect.

Hearing what she thought was a vehicle arriving outside, she roseand went to the front door. The police car had made an optimistic run at the steep brae, then perhaps noting there was no chance of turning at the top, had stopped, no doubt with their brake full on.

The kamikaze attempt indicated it wasn’t the boss driving, nor would it be anyone familiar with Mackie’s place, which immediately filled her with fear that it might be Gus. The thought that she would have to get into the car beside him, let alone have to stay there for the length of the journey back to Kirkwall, filled her with horror.

She was already looking for excuses not to take the lift, citing a need to stay longer with Mackie, when the driver emerged from the vehicle.

‘DCGunn,’ she said to herself. ‘Thank God.’

Going out to greet him, she asked if anyone had warned him about the drive.

‘They did, but I thought I’d give it a go anyway,’ he said with a smile. ‘You okay to head back now?’