Page 53 of Coming Home to Winter Island
The house begins to fill with people carrying bottles, and the smells from the kitchen drift through to join the chatter and laughter. Fraser is there with his wife, along with Lena, Lexie and Lyle from the shop, and Mrs Broidy, the old housekeeper. Lachlan appears in the kitchen as I’m finding glasses.
‘Need a hand?’ he says, and I turn and catch my breath. The outline of his broad shoulders is visible under his white shirt, his wild curly hair is as tamed as it can be, and his strong calves are on show below the hem of his kilt. I stand stock still, unable to move for a moment. A knock at the door catapults me out of my transfixed state.
It’s Isla and Gordan, carrying a bottle of whisky.
‘Thank you for having us all here,’ they say, shivering as they come in. ‘It’s freezing at ours.’
‘Come in! The generator’s working, and Lachlan’s cooking,’ and the image of Lachlan in his kilt, freshly showered and smelling heavenly, makes every one of my nerve endings tingle all over again.
I plug in the record player in the big room and put on one of the records from the box, and the house is full of music, chatter and the sounds of the community coming together. Then Gordan brings out his bagpipes and pipes in the haggis, and we all clap. And as Lachlan passes me, carrying the haggis on a silver plate, he gives me a sideways look and a smile, and my stomach flips over and back again and I take a big swig of the whisky that’s been handed to me.
When the haggis has been addressed and toasted and everyone has raised their glasses, Lachlan hands round plates of haggis, neeps and tatties and then Gordan plays another tune on the bagpipes. I take a plate of food to Hector and sit by him with my own plate. After some persuasion, Mrs Broidy is persuaded to take to the out-of-tune piano, and the gathered guests begin to join in with her song. As she finishes and everyone applauds, Hector begins to sing quietly, and gradually everyone falls silent. It’s the tune from the broken record, the one I was humming, the one I remember my father singing to me, the memory now as clear as anything, and tears fill my eyes. Mrs Broidy and the goat lady, Fraser and the three siblings from the shop join in, filling the room with song. My teary eyes seek out Lachlan, who is looking at Isla and she back at him and then at Gordan. Suddenly Lachlan stands and leaves the room.
I follow him to the kitchen. ‘All okay?’ I ask.
‘Yes. Sure. Just getting the tipsy laird,’ he says, sounding choked.
‘The what?’
‘Tipsy laird! Sherry trifle,’ he says, turning round with a huge bowl. There’s a cheeseboard with his oatcakes laid out too. I go to pick it up to carry it through to the other room, then pause.
‘It’s her, isn’t it? Isla. She’s the reason you want to leave.’
He looks up at me, his eyes even more green than usual.
‘She’s the one I came back for,’ he says quietly. ‘We’d been childhood sweethearts. But then I went away to the mainland, got my degree and my engineering job. I broke her heart, I suppose. My mother had died before I went to college, and my father wanted me to go and live the best life I could. That’s why I left. But then he died too, and I wasn’t here. I left it too late to get back. I should have been here. I should never have left. Hector was here for my dad, and then for me. And I realised that here was exactly where I wanted to be; that everything I wanted had been here all along.
‘I packed in my job and moved home. I’d got everything ready to ask Isla to marry me. Candles, the fire lit, dinner in the oven. Even had our favourite record playing...’ He stops and looks at me. ‘She turned up to tell me she was marrying Gordan...my best friend. She didn’t think I was coming back. She’d moved on. I was too late.’
‘The broken record at the croft,’ I say quietly.
‘I thought it was going to be our family home. A new beginning.’ He looks at me again. ‘You’ve got it right. You’ve got a dream and you’re going for it. Don’t leave it too late. You shouldn’t have to live with “what if”.’ He sighs.
‘And if she wanted you back now?’ I ask.
‘It’s a small island. There isn’t enough room on it for that kind of hurt. Too many people would end up falling out. The only way for that to happen is to leave and not come back, like your dad did.’
There is a flash and a bang. The storm is blowing up.
‘Come on. Bring the cheese,’ he says, clearly eager to finish the conversation.
In the living room, Hector is standing in front of the roaring fire, smiling broadly.
‘Ah! There you are! Now, are you going to announce the good news or am I?’
Lachlan sets the tipsy laird on the big table and I put down the cheeseboard.
‘What news is that, Hector?’ Lachlan asks.
‘You two, your news! Look at them! Thick as thieves, but we all know what’s going on!’
‘Oh no...’ I start to say, and am about to tell him there’s nothing going on, then remember that that’s why most of the locals think I’m there, as Lachlan’s guest.
Lachlan laughs and slings his arm around my shoulders. I look at Isla’s face, a smile gently tugging at the corner of her mouth, and I’m not sure if it’s regret, or that she’s pleased for him, or maybe a bit of both.
The clock strikes midnight.
‘Happy New Year!’ shouts Hector, throwing his hands up. ‘Go on, kiss her, man! It’s Hogmanay after all!’
