Page 100 of The Midnight Secret

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jayne sat on the rock, the letter on her lap as she looked out across the silvered water. It had been delivered yesterday, though in all the haste for the preparations for Flora’s homecoming she hadn’t opened it till she’d come home last night. She still wasn’t sure why it had come to her, and she had stolen away from her bed before dawn to come here to think better – for this had become her new favourite spot, the secret place to which she could remove when things became too much with Norman. She’d never even brought David here.

David.

She missed him so much she ached. He wouldn’t meet her eyes at all last night and she had felt a gaping loneliness at being in a crowded house and ignored by the only person who truly mattered to her. She missed his easy conversation and lazy smiles, watching their shadows walk ahead of them on the path on the way home each evening. But amid the gentleness of their everyday encounters, she also remembered the passion that had erupted between them that afternoon in the kitchen, stunning them both. She couldn’t forget it.

They could have had everything together. Been everything to each other.

But she had blocked her own happiness.

She understood why he was angry. From the outside, sheknew her actions made no sense, but no one, not even he, could ever truly understand what happened inside her head. The burden of her so-called gift held her apart from everyone else, irrespective of her own desire to fit in. It was a curse to know more than she should, prefiguring death while the victim lived.

Only this time, things were different. She alone knew something and, although she couldn’t change the outcome, time was on her side. She could make a change for good.

She had been awake all night, debating her next move as Norman slept beside her. He had come in late, stinking of beer and almost collapsing into unconsciousness, still wearing his clothes. Did she dare to act?

It would require her to be bold, defiant and brave – all the things she wasn’t – and she didn’t have long to decide. The sun was already rising. If she was going to get there and back in time, she would have to leave now.

She watched a pod of dolphins slip through the waters of the sound, untroubled by anything other than where to find their next meal – and she suddenly understood that she had a greater destiny than that. Simple survival wasn’t enough. If she couldn’t stop death, she could at least help others to truly live.

She got up from the rock and began walking.

There was one thing she could do.

Nine hours later, Jayne sat by the bus window, her fingers grasping anxiously at the cloth of her skirt as the small green bus wound its way along the coast road and back into the village’s main street. She had been certain they would get here too late, for timings had been tighter than she had imagined, the distances greater. She wasn’t a woman of theworld, not like Effie, who had travelled through Scotland, or even Mhairi – and certainly not like Flora, who had crossed half the world.

But the ivory yacht was still moored at the quay, its sails wound in around tall masts as a crowd gathered to wave them off. Jayne was amazed at how familiar it was to her eye, though it had been almost a year since she had seen the boat last. Memories rushed at her as she was reminded of Effie – ropes looped over her shoulder and wearing her brother’s clothes – marching the earl and his son up and down the slopes in the hunt for birds’ eggs; the striking slashes of the semaphore cut into Boreray’s turf after Donald’s fall; Lorna gathering everyone around as she shared the news of the evacuation; Flora streaking over the hills with a red shawl at her waist, keeping a secret...It had only been a few days, and yet all those events had transpired while the yacht lay at anchor in Village Bay last May. And their consequences stretched into the present, even now.

More than anyone could possibly know.

The bus stopped outside the greengrocer’s and the doors opened.

‘Ready?’ she asked her companion.

‘Aye.’

They disembarked, casting around for the St Kildan faces as they moved into the crowd. Jayne found Norman easily, across the way, talking to one of the fishermen, but she kept her distance. He would only be angry to have discovered her gone this morning. Christina and Rachel were talking with Mad Annie. The shift at the factory had just ended and all the women were bustling around as if they were sending their sons off to war, not waving cheerio to neighbours who would return in two days’ time.

MacLeod’s skipper, reading the winds and weather forecast, had estimated a sailing time of roughly eight hours. They would be travelling through the night, hoping to make landfall soon after dawn tomorrow. All being well, they would cast off again tomorrow evening to return here the following morning. It would be gruelling, even on a luxury yacht.

MacLeod himself had arranged to travel over with the earl and his minister on the Dumfries boat, to make room for the villagers on his own, but even then there weren’t enough berths for everyone. Many of the villagers would have to sleep where they lay. But no one was complaining. The excitement of returning to their homeland had been building for days and was now approaching fever pitch. They would sleep on spikes if they had to.

Jayne saw a flash of red in the crowd. ‘Mhairi!’ she called.

The young woman turned, her jaw dropping open as she saw who was standing beside Jayne.

‘...Donald?’

In an instant, tears were dropping down her cheeks as he pushed his way through to her, scooping her up and turning her round and round, Mhairi cupping his face in disbelief. Seeing how their eyes locked, Jayne was reminded again of how David had looked at her. Bodies echoing souls.

‘But how...how are you here?’ Mhairi cried. ‘I don’t understand!’

‘Jayne came down to Oban on the first bus this morning,’ he said. ‘She’s changed her statement. I’m officially off the hook!’

Jayne saw Mhairi gather the breath to squeal, but she reached forward hastily and pressed a finger to her lips. ‘Not yet,’ she whispered. ‘...You must keep it to yourselves till we return.’

‘But—’ A look of concern tracked into Mhairi’s grey eyes.

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