Page 68 of Coming Home to Winter Island
‘But I’m not his next of kin. Ruby is...’
A silence falls over the gathering. I hold my breath.
‘You mean...she’s Hector’s...’
‘Granddaughter. Yes.’
All this time he could have told them, and he hasn’t. He kept his word. Now...well, it really doesn’t matter, I think. If the crowdfunding fails, I will have let everyone down, whoever I am. But somehow, hearing the words ‘Hector’s granddaughter’ fills me with a stirring of pride.
‘They’d never met. Her dad...well, you all remember Campbell, and you know that he and Hector argued and were both too proud to back down. Ruby never knew her grandparents or this place. When she got here, she realised that to do the best thing for Hector, she had to sell the house, but that meant me leaving it. And until I’d found the gin recipe that Hector could no longer remember, I wasn’t budging. Anyway, turns out Ruby’s as stubborn as her grandfather. She was determined to find that recipe and get the gin still working, and that’s exactly what she’s done. Hector’s business is up and running again, thanks to her...and you. This is what a community does.’
I bite my bottom lip. I want to say that it was him that made it happen. He knew where to go to find the ingredients, how to gather them and prepare them and get the still working. He took the pictures – and the video – that made the crowdfunding page so popular.
‘But now she’s selling it to that bloke from the mainland and we’ll just become an extension of his company.’
‘Ruby has tried to do the best for everyone: for Hector, for the island. There are bound to still be jobs. And she knew I needed to move on too.’
Silence falls over the group.
‘And all of you, you’ve benefited from her being here. Jack Drummond and his business partners are staying at the pub. The ferry will be busier than ever today, with any luck; the café too no doubt. When was the last time this island had some hope about what the future might hold?’
‘When Hector set up the still,’ says Mrs Broidy.
‘And now his granddaughter has done the same. And she’s back at that house, wondering if anyone is going to turn up this afternoon. After all her work, putting her own life on hold, it looks as if it’s all been for nothing. And if it has, what will happen to Hector? Life moves on for everyone. You just have to try and make sure it’s in the right direction. If you won’t do it for Ruby, or for me, do it for Hector. All of you have had a life on the island, and a good life too, because of him.
‘We’ve all made mistakes. Who here hasn’t? Hector certainly did, and not a day went by when he didn’t regret not making it up with his son. But we all deserve a second chance. Don’t leave it too late. Yes, maybe Ruby should have told you who she was, said what she was doing here. But she did what she did for the best reasons; she followed her heart. And helped put a few back together in the process.’
I take a big breath and lift my face to the gently falling snowflakes, then turn and run back to the house as if my feet have grown wings.
I shower quickly in the big tub and then start collecting up the mismatched vintage cups, saucers and plates we found when clearing out the cupboards, arranging them on the long table in the dining room at the back of the house. I open up the big double doors that connect the room with the living room, where Hector is sitting in his worn wingback chair looking out over the garden towards the distillery through the gently falling snow.
After a while, Lachlan arrives back, without a word about where he’s been. He stops and smiles at me.
‘Ferry should be in soon,’ he says. ‘Maybe there’ll be guests on it. We’d better get ready just in case.’
I nod, and together we lay out the plates and cake stands for the sponge cakes, shortbread and cheese scones he’s made.
‘I’ll get some gin from the distillery; we can pour it into shot glasses for people to try it neat, and offer tonic for those who don’t want it like that. I’ll just give the distillery a tidy too,’ he says, brushing his curly hair off his face. ‘We can give them a tour before tea, and tell them the history of the place.’
If anyone comes, I think, biting my lip. And I’m sure he’s thinking the same, but is putting on a brave face.
Suddenly the big bell at the front door rings out, making me jump. I wipe my hands and look around for Lachlan, but he’s already outside and heading for the distillery. His happy place, I think, and find myself smiling. And then thinking how sad it’s going to be for him to leave it and hand it over to the new owners. But I push that thought away, just for the time being.
I go to the front door and pull it open, hoping to see some of the villagers. And I don’t know if I’m disappointed it’s not them, or just thrilled to see who it is.
Chapter Forty-two
Jess and the rest of the band are standing in front of me!
‘Whaaa!’ I say, lost for words.
Jess is pulling off her sunglasses. ‘God, that was some journey. I think I left my stomach somewhere back in the middle of that big bit of sea!’
The others all agree. There’s Moira, our drummer, Gwilym, keyboards, and Ali, our double bass player. They huddle together for warmth. The sky is darkening and there’s a stillness in the air. It’s cold and crisp, and Jess is shivering in the snow falling around her.
‘What are you all doing here?!’ I say with a mix of surprise and delight.
‘Come to make sure you actually leave this time!’ she says. ‘Judging by the video on your crowdfunding page, I’m beginning to think this place is getting right under your skin.’
