Page 87 of The Moon Sister
‘You know I’m up for it, Cal. He’s there somewhere.’
‘Finally, Tig, I’m beginning tae believe you.’
*
Later that afternoon, I was surprised to hear the rare ping of a text arriving on my phone. I ran to the bathroom where I usually left it propped against the window in the hope of getting a signal, and saw it was a message from Star. The gist of it was that CeCe had been photographed in Thailand with some guy who was wanted for bank fraud and the picture had ended up in the newspapers.
‘Shit!’ I muttered, wondering what that was all about and feeling guilty for not keeping in touch with my sisters more often. I managed to reply to Star and send CeCe a text asking if she was okay before the signal died again.
In need of distraction, I decided to take Thistle down to Chilly’s cabin in Beryl.
Chilly was once again lying on his bed, eyes closed, rather than in his habitual position in the chair beside the wood-burner. Worried that his fever might have returned, or worse, I approached the bed with trepidation. As I did so, his eyes popped open.
‘You better now, missy?’
‘I am, yes, but Thistle’s got a cough. I wondered if you have any herbs I could mix to help him?’
Chilly contemplated Thistle, who had sunk to the floor in front of the woodburner.
‘No, Hotchiwitchi, you do cure him yourself. Use your own hands – they have the power in them. I did tell you that before.’
‘But I don’t know how, Chilly.’
He reached out his own gnarled hands to take mine, his eyes suddenly rolling back in his head.
‘You’ll be gone soon, but then you will come home.’
‘Right then, I must get back,’ I said, ignoring what he’d said and feeling unusually irritated by the way he spoke in riddles. I just wanted a cure for Thistle’s cough.
‘What did he mean by me being “gone”?’ I muttered to Thistle as we traipsed back across the ice.
When I arrived home, the snow had begun to fall again, so I lit the fire and laying Thistle down in front of it, I knelt beside him to try and ‘use my hands’ as Chilly had told me to. I placed them on Thistle’s throat and chest, which only succeeded in making him think he was on for a fuss and had him rolling onto his back with his paws in the air. Although I’d been told many times that I had a ‘knack’ for healing animals, consciously trying to do so was obviously another matter.
When Cal came home, I pleaded with him to let Thistle stay inside.
‘He’s just not himself, you must have noticed his cough,’ I said. ‘Can’t we let him sleep in the warm for a few nights?’
‘He’s gettin’ on is all, and it’s just the time o’ year for animals and humans to get the wheezes. An’ it’ll no’ do him any good to be flittin’ from warm to cold all the time.’
‘I went to see if Chilly had a herbal remedy for him,’ I persisted, ‘but I came away empty-handed.’ I didn’t mention my own feeble attempts at treating the dog, or Cal would probably think I’d lost the plot completely. ‘Would you mind if I got Fiona to take a look at him?’
Cal went over to scratch Thistle behind the ears for a few moments, then relented. ‘Aye, it cannae do any harm, and he’s due a check-up anyway.’
I offered Cal some vegetable soup and sat down opposite him to eat my own.
‘Cal, I need some advice.’
‘Fire away, though if it’s tae do with relationship stuff, I’m not the person tae be talkin’ to.’
‘Actually, it’s got to do with my future career.’
‘Then I’m all ears.’
So I told Cal about what Zed had offered me and he whistled when he heard the budget.
‘You can imagine how tempting it sounds, especially as things up here at Kinnaird seem to be so . . . uncertain at the moment.’
‘True, true, but what about Zed? I cannae help feeling that you’d be walking straight into the lion’s den, literally,’ he cackled.
