Page 52 of Coming Home to Winter Island
‘It’s blowing a hooley out there!’ Lachlan says, pulling on his coat.
‘It certainly is!’ I say as I stand with my back to the door, soaked to the skin.
‘And it’s getting worse. I was just coming to look for you.’
I blush, suddenly touched by his concern.
‘The power’s gone out in the community centre over the other side of the island. Loads of houses have lost electricity and heat. It’s getting worse. Forecast is pretty bad.’
‘Oh no, that’s terrible!’ I say.
‘Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning. It won’t be long before the whole island is out,’ he says, and with that, the lights flicker and die.
‘Oh no! Now what?’
‘Plenty of candles in the drawer in the kitchen, and a head torch there too,’ says Lachlan. ‘Thing is, it’s Burns Night, and what with the community centre being out of action, and Teach Mhor having the backup generator...I said I’d have to ask you. It’s not up to me, and Hector clearly can’t make the call on it.’
‘On what? Can’t make the call on what?’ I’m confused.
‘Like I say, it’s the twenty-fifth of January.’
‘I know. We have just a week left on the crowdfunding and to get the gin made. I’m worried, Lachlan, really worried!’
‘It’s Burns Night,’ he repeats. ‘The community centre is out, the pub too. There’s a backup generator here at Teach Mhor. It’s where all the parties used to be held. The locals have asked if we can have the celebrations here instead. I said I’d have to ask you.’
‘Me?’
‘Well, you are Hector’s granddaughter.’
‘But they don’t know that, do they?’
He shakes his head. ‘You have my word, I’ve said nothing. But it’s still your call. If you don’t agree, I’ll say Hector is...unwell.’
I can hear Hector humming in the other room.
‘No, it’s fine. Um...what do you think?’
‘I think,’ he says with a gentle smile, ‘Hector may just like having the house full of people again. And maybe we can get a few more to sign up for the crowdfunding while they’re here, by way of payback!’
‘Then of course it’s fine by me,’ I say, feeling very strange about being asked. ‘There’s a storm, we should do what we can.’ I think of people in their homes with no electricity or heat. ‘Of course we should.’
‘Great. I’ll let them know everyone’s welcome at the house,’ he says, and goes out.
‘Be careful!’ I call after him as the wind catches the door and bangs it shut.
I find the head torch and start lighting candles, then have a quick tidy-up. I wonder how many guests there will be, and if they’ll be staying over if the storm hasn’t passed.
To my relief, Lachlan returns shortly afterwards. He opens the back door of the Land Rover and starts pulling out various crates and trays. I hold the door open against the driving rain as he unloads them into the kitchen.
‘Haggis and neeps,’ he announces. ‘Picked up the ingredients from the café. Now all I need to do is remember where I’ve put my sporran.’ And my stomach suddenly flicks like the flames of the candles dotted around the hall.
‘Oh, the choir has arrived. Wonderful!’ says Hector. ‘It wouldn’t be Hogmanay without the choir!’ I don’t bother to correct him and tell him Hogmanay has gone and it’s actually Burns Night.
‘Is it okay? The power’s out!’ people ask as they turn up at the door.
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘Come in! We’ve plenty of room.’
There are candles all the way up the dark staircase along with the dim lighting in the hall and on the big sideboard in the hall. In the front room, Lachlan and I have put tea lights everywhere – along the window ledges and on the mantelpiece to add to the lamplight. Outside, the wind is howling and the rain is throwing itself at the window panes, doing its very worst. I’ve never felt more frightened yet safe at the same time.
