Page 35 of Coming Home to Winter Island
‘We’ll put the word out,’ says Lyle.
‘And he had the dogs with him. They never say no to a biscuit,’ smiles Lexie. ‘Nice to meet you again, dear,’ she says to me.
‘Um, and you.’
‘Hope to see you for Hogmanay.’
I don’t tell her that I won’t be here by then, and hopefully neither will Hector. Well, that might be wishful thinking, but as soon as we can find a buyer, preferably a cash one, he’ll be in his nice warm room at the old people’s home, and not wandering around the island. We just need to find him and get him back to the house right now, safe and sound. Anything could have happened!
Chapter Eighteen
We jump back in the old Land Rover and it starts with a chug and shake. It’s getting cold, really cold now. We need to find him. I know Lachlan is thinking exactly the same.
We drive first to the harbour and then to the church and graveyard. Each time we jump out with our torches and look around and call his name. Then quickly get back in the car.
We drive around by the beach near the house, and past a small croft that looks empty and dark, just on the outskirts of the distillery buildings. We drive from the bay across moorland and towards a small pine woodland nestling between two small hills. But nothing. We pass small cottages and crofts with lights beginning to go on and the smell of peat and woodsmoke in the cold evening air, and a field of small goats, where a short woman with a white bun flags Lachlan down. He gets out of the car and goes to talk to her. After a few minutes, he gets back in the car and starts it.
‘She saw him not long ago, heading this way with the dogs,’ he says, and veers the Land Rover off the single road we’ve been travelling along onto an uneven stony track leading up one of the hillsides. We arrive at a clearing and both jump out. I can hear a dog barking, low and gruff and rhythmic, and another yapping more erratically and excitedly.
‘It’s Rhona and Douglas!’ Lachlan says, and breaks into a run.
I follow him through some trees, and then – whoa! I hear it before I see it! The torch lights it up as I swing it around. There in front of me is a waterfall, crashing over big worn rocks, the water swirling in a pool below. Hector is sitting on the edge. The older dog is lying across his lap, no doubt keeping him warm. The other, Douglas, is running around barking, letting us know where to find his master.
‘Good boy,’ Lachlan tells him. ‘Good fella,’ and he pats the dog’s head. ‘We’re here to take him home,’ he reassures him, and the dog stops barking.
Hector is holding the bottle of gin, his legs swinging over the edge of the rock bowl, and my heart leaps into my mouth and bangs loudly. One false move and he could fall. I don’t want to startle him.
‘Come on, Hector, let’s get you home,’ says Lachlan matter-of-factly, even though I know he’s feeling anything but. He walks purposefully over the rocky moss-covered ground to where Hector is sitting, and I can hardly look.
‘Came here all the time,’ Hector says, and he seems to be humming to himself. ‘This is the place.’ He smiles. ‘This is where it starts. The water gathers and then runs all the way across the island, you know that?’
‘I do, Hector,’ Lachlan says kindly, not rushing the old man.
‘Across every bit of terrain and ending at the sea. It’s like the main artery, the lifeblood of the island.’
‘It is, Hector. Now, pass me the bottle and I’ll help you up.’
‘Yes, yes,’ says Hector. Rhona climbs off his lap and stands stock still at his side.
I have to do something. I step forward to help.
Hector wobbles as he attempts to stand.
‘Whoa!’ says Lachlan, and grabs hold of him.
‘Whoa!’ says Hector, thrusting the bottle in my direction.
‘Whoa!’ I say as I attempt to grab the bottle and it slips through my frozen fingers into the deep pool below.
All three of us stand and stare at it.
‘Sorry!’ I say, and grimace. ‘But there’s more, right? And now we know that Hector can remember things when he’s tasting the Teach Mhor gin.’ I smile. I think I have done some good here today.
Lachlan looks at me and slowly, very slowly, shakes his head.
‘That was the last bottle...saved for research purposes,’ he sighs. ‘Come on, Hector, let’s get you home.’
He guides Hector back down the stony path to the Land Rover and helps him in. We take off our coats and layer them around and over the old man. Shivering, I get in the back with the dogs, and Lachlan turns the big vehicle around and begins driving back down the hill.
