Page 41 of One Night on the Island

‘Delta!’ The girl behind the bar laughs and swishes her hands around like she’s holding a sword. ‘Don’t.’

I have the feeling I’m missing an inside joke.

‘The girls are wondering if you’ve been using the force over at Otter Lodge.’ Raff attempts to enlighten me, but it’s too cryptic. ‘Waving your lightsaber around, perhaps?’

‘Pay these eejits no heed,’ Ailsa jumps in. ‘Pick up that camera and take some photographs now, why don’t you? I expect you’re itching to catch this crazed bunch on film.’

Thankfully, the conversation soon moves on from what may or may not be happening at Otter Lodge, and I quietly fire off my camera, attempting to capture the warmth of community: Raff laughing with abandon, his head thrown back; Delta with a protective arm curved around her baby; Ailsa leaning in close to laugh at something Julia said, the blue tips of her hair brushing her wife’s cheek. These people are the descendants of my people, our history is entwined. I feel a sense of belonging, invisible roots snaking around my ankles. It’s kind of cool, but strange too, because I know where my place is – in Boston, with my family. I don’t see how you can truly belong to more than one place.

The journey back to the lodge is windy, my face battered by the cold even when I dip my head against it. I don’t usually struggle with the hill but, man, it’s tough going this time. I think back over the afternoon of Guinness and good company – or good craic, as they say here. They’re solid people, tight-knit, a real family. I’ve taken some images I’m pleased with today, I’m excited to get them on my laptop for a proper look. I can feel the foundations of something special taking shape here – every time I upload my daily shots I feel flickers of anticipation. They’re good. Better than good. I’m practised enough by now to know when a project is going well. The inhospitable land has somehow opened its arms to me and its strong people make fascinating subjects. I’ve honed my craft well over the years and it feels as if it has all been leading up to this time, this island, the professional highlight of my life. It’s a source of huge sadness that my home life needed to fall apart in order to send me here. Light and shade, as always in my life, personal and professional. I’m about to push on when my cell vibrates in my pocket; the wonders of Wailing Hill reception trump the weather again. I reach for it, focusing my eyes on the bright screen in the darkness. My stomach lurches when I see the name on the screen. Susie. My fingers fumble for the message. Susie never messages me. We agreed not to, unless it was urgent. My heart hammering, I tap to read the message.

Hi Mack, can you call me when you get this please? I need to talk to you. X

My eyes scan the message, then I force myself to read it again, slower. What does it mean? She’d say, surely, if something had happened to one of the boys? If it’s not about the boys, then what? Oh God. I wish I was at home, that I could be there right now and see my sons, see her. This is killing me. X? I study the message again, wondering if this is another of Susie’s low moments when she needs to check I’m still waiting around for her. I can’t stop my heart jumping in my chest as I press to return the call and pray for the connection to hold.

‘Mack?’

Her voice makes me instantly homesick. ‘Hey, Susie.’

‘I wasn’t sure you’d get the message,’ she says. I can hear nerves in her voice and it only makes me more worried.

‘Is everything okay with the kids?’

She pauses, and for a second I know pure fear.

‘They’re fine, don’t worry.’ She falters. ‘This isn’t about them … not directly, anyway.’

Now I’m confused. ‘I don’t follow,’ I say.

‘Have you noticed Leo gets upset lately whenever he speaks to you?’ she says.

I go clammy. Is she about to ask me not to call my sons? Because she may as well ask me to stop breathing.

‘Yes, I’ve noticed,’ I say, as calm as I can manage. ‘I was going to talk to you, see if you know of anything on his mind.’

The line goes silent long enough for me to worry we’ve been cut off.

‘This is so difficult.’ Her voice is soft against my ear.

‘It’s difficult for me too,’ I say. ‘Being so far away from you all.’

I’ve travelled a hell of a long way to give Susie the space she needed, but I’d walk another thousand miles if it made her see what’s right for our family. Is this it? Is she going to ask me to come home? Apprehension gnaws low in my gut. It’s hard to pinpoint why, exactly. This could be the call I’ve waited for, the words I’ve wanted her to say.

‘I’m seeing someone else, Mack. It’s … it’s pretty serious.’

I actually feel the bottom fall out of my world. Twelve months of push me, pull me, waiting and waiting, and still I didn’t see this coming. Does that make me an idiot? I sure feel like one right now.

‘Leo found out. It’s been eating him up not telling you.’

My poor sweet boy. ‘How long?’

She falls silent again, but I can hear her breathing. I’ve slept beside this woman for years, listened for her breath in the dead of night. That’s how I know she’s breathing faster than usual, that her heart is racing. Mine is too. I can hear it roaring in my ears.

‘Four months. Five, maybe? I don’t know, Mack. A while, but Leo only found out last week.’

‘Five months?’ I say. She’s been sleeping with someone else for five months. It hits me like a hammer, doubling me over on the rock. I can’t wrap my head around it. I’ve only been gone a few weeks, so there’s been a considerable goddamn window back home for her to bother mentioning this to me.

‘Who is he?’

---