Page 2 of The Castle in the Bay

Too late now.

‘Good for you, son. You’ve got great weather for it.’

‘Yeah.’ He still had to get to the castle though. That was the next big thing. Because Kisimul Castle wasn’t accessible on foot. Only by boat. Perhaps his father had set this challenge from beyond the grave, knowing how tricky that would be for his land-loving son. And maybe it was exactly what Monty needed. Time to get out of his comfort zone and do something more adventurous. This trip was supposed to be about the ashes and to give Monty a chance to connect with the island his father had loved. He needed a break from work and time to regroup. Even before his father died, it had been a trying year.

Coming here felt like travelling to the edge of the world – a remote, quiet corner of Scotland where he could hide from his normal life for a while.

No one here knew him or his history. He was far from prying eyes and expectations. His ex – the very beautiful Sophie – could take a backseat in his mind, and hopefully he could be free of her cutting words and painful accusations.

Taking a deep breath, he looked out the window, watching as they headed around the west side of the island. Monty’s eyes widened as views of the sea returned. Ten-foot breakers cracked on the shoreline and rolled up the beach.

‘Wow,’ he said. ‘That’s dramatic.’

The taxi driver nodded. ‘Aye, it is that.’

A little further along the road, he pulled up a little track, passing a few scattered buildings. A couple of them looked like they might be inhabited, while others were more like outbuildings or animal sheds.

An Grianan farmhouse was a beautiful old stone building, painted white and surrounded by the somewhat bleak Hebridean farmland that ran seamlessly into nature. Insects hummed and wildflowers danced in the long grass at the side of the path as Monty got out of the taxi. Such a stunning place with views over the raging sea to the front and hills to the back, but something about it was forlorn, almost like it had been forgotten in the passing of time.

He paid and thanked the taxi driver, then made his way to the blue door of the farmhouse. Holding tightly to the backpack with the ashes, he knocked. As he waited, he gazed out over the sea.

‘Hello.’ A young woman with thin-rimmed glasses, rosy cheeks and a gentle smile opened the door, and Monty switched his focus to her. A bee buzzed past her, and she shook her long dark blonde hair, then brushed the front of her white t-shirt. ‘Are you Monty?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m Catriona Griffin. We’ve been expecting you.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’ Monty thrust out his hand and she shook it. When he’d seen the owner’s name in the email, he’d expected someone older. This woman looked like she was in her late twenties at most.

‘And you. You’re in the annex for your stay, so I’ll show you around. It’s self-catering, like you asked for, but you’re welcome to add breakfast or evening meals any time you need them.’

‘Thank you. You said you had a bike I could use too. I’d like to explore a bit.’ Though now he’d seen the roads, he wasn’t sure cycling was a good idea.

‘Yes. We’ve got a push-bike or a new e-bike you can use.’ The roads were hilly and bumpy, and Monty was unadventurous in the extreme, though he liked running to keep fit – that was the only occasion he wore anything different from his usual attire – so an e-bike sounded very appealing.

‘I’ll try the e-bike, thanks.’ His lack of interest in thrill-seeking activities was Sophie’s issue with him and her reason for dumping him. Apparently, he was too boring and ‘vanilla’ for her liking. Well, maybe out here in the wilds he could learn an interesting new skill – like cycling these roads without doing himself an injury and trying to get to Kisimul Castle without getting seasick.

His mind wandered into the future. Perhaps he could send Sophie a photo of himself on ‘an adventure’. It might even work as a way to win her back. That thought lifted his heavy heart. He’d always viewed Sophie as his one true love and couldn’t imagine ever finding anyone he would like quite as much. Getting her back was something positive to think about.

‘This is the annex.’ Catriona led him around the building to a small extension on the side. ‘You’ll find it all quite self-explanatory, I think, but if you need help with anything, just give me a shout. I’ll leave you to settle in while I go and get the bike. You’ve got a beautiful day for cycling, so make the most of it. The weather can turn quickly out here, but it looks like it’ll stay nice for a while.’

Monty opened the annex door and smiled. Its bright interior was reminiscent of a ship’s cabin, with whitewashed tongue-and-groove panelling on the wall and fresh white and blue linen on the bed. The thick windowsill had nautical instruments on it, along with what looked like part of a whalebone. A small sofa was on one side and behind a three-quarter height wall was a tiny galley-style kitchen. Behind that was a separate shower room. Monty pushed his case into the main room and placed the backpack containing the urn on the bed.

He ruffled up his hair in the small mirror. What a mess he looked. That was what lack of sleep did. Since Sophie left, he hadn’t slept well and after his father died, that had made it worse. So many regrets to keep him awake. Rubbing hischeeks, he sighed. He probably should’ve shaved before he left that morning, but Barra was a wild place, so having a bit of stubble might help him blend in – though he didn’t really think that would work. This place was gorgeous, but so far removed from what he was used to. He and Sophie had always gone on expensive foreign holidays to luxury hotels. She wouldn’t be impressed with this little annex. But finding anywhere to stay at short notice on the island in the summer wasn’t easy. And the room looked comfortable, which was really all Monty needed.

Catriona returned shortly after with the bike and demonstrated how it worked. Monty listened carefully, all the while thinking how much easier it would have been if he’d brought his car. But there was no chance of that. The car ferry was a four-and-a-half-hour trip from Oban, and Monty knew his limits. That length of time on a boat was sure to kill him. So, a bike it was. If Sophie could see him now!

After Catriona had gone back to the farmhouse, Monty saw no reason to delay his trip to the castle, especially with the weather this good. Maybe he could even get on a boat today. And if not, he could book one. If he found someone who would do a private trip, that would be even better. At least if he got seasick, he wouldn’t disgust all the other passengers – and the chances of him getting seasick were very high. The only time he remembered going on a boat, he’d spent the whole time throwing up and never wanted to repeat the experience.

Stowing the urn carefully in his backpack, he mounted the bike and set off towards the main village of Castlebay – aptly named because of the castle in the bay. He’d seen so many pictures of it he was looking forward to seeing it for himself. The air was so clear here, and as he topped a hill and freewheeled down, his mind flew to Sophie again. So much for him not thinking about her. She had a way of hijacking his brain at every quiet moment. Despite her labelling him ‘boring’ and ‘vanilla’,he couldn’t see her doing this. Even if he’d offered to go trekking in the Andes or ice-climbing in the alps, he couldn’t imagine her wanting to do that either. It begged the question; what kind of excitementdidshe want? He steered his mind to the bedroom door. If she meant that kind of adventure, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go there. Kinks weren’t ever going to be his thing; he was sure of that. Was that what she meant? It didn’t seem likely, but she’d never said. And she’d only told him she was dissatisfied when she left. The thought made Monty a little queasy. Getting over her was taking a long time – they’d been separated for almost six months, but it still felt so fresh.

He descended into the village, spotting the castle straight away. About a mile of sea separated him from his destination, though it wasn’t as far out as he’d pictured it in his mind. Maybe his ancestors should have thought of putting down a drawbridge, albeit a very long one, or maybe a causeway. He left the bike close to the ferry terminal and walked along the seafront. Not far off was a bench, though the way down to it looked a little uneven. He picked his path carefully, then took off his backpack and sat down. Dad would have loved this. Monty took the urn from the bag and sat it on his knee. If only he’d made time to do this trip when Dad was alive.

He sighed, raising his eyes to the castle. ‘Now I just need to get you out there.’

A few boats were dotted around the bay. Surely someone would give him a lift over. There were definitely boat trips, but he needed one that would land and give him some time alone to do this properly. Saying goodbye wouldn’t be easy.

He got to his feet, taking the urn with him. A gull broke into a loud squawk, and Monty looked around for it as he made his way onto the road, his ankle turning slightly on the uneven grass and stones, but before he could remind himself to watch his steps, he tripped over something. His heart stopped as the urn slippedfrom his grasp. His glasses, that seriously needed adjusting, slipped.Shit. If the urn fell, it would either shatter or roll down the hill into the sea. Juggling the urn seemed to go on forever. His glasses hit the ground, but he had the urn. It was in his arms, safe. Thank god. Clutching it tightly, he leaned over and picked up his glasses. Thankfully they weren’t broken. He rubbed them clean on his t-shirt and took a couple of steps backward, away from the offensive rock.

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