The Skylark's Secret(11)
‘Bye, Mairi. It’s been good seeing you.’ He glanced at his own watch. ‘I’ll not be able to stay long, Dad, just a few minutes more. I’ve to report back on board by five. But I couldn’t pass up the chance to come home, even just for half an hour.’
Once he’d downed the dregs of his tea, Ruaridh got to his feet, setting his cap firmly back on his head and bending to give Braan’s silken ears one last stroke. ‘Be seeing you then, Dad.’
‘Aye. Soon enough.’
Flora sensed the ocean of words, unspoken since they had no need of saying, that surged and tugged beneath the surface of their matter-of-fact parting. She fetched her thick gansey down from the hook by the door. ‘I’ll chum you back to the jetty,’ she said, wanting to spin out the precious time they had together for as long as possible.
And then the brother and sister set off down the track, turning on to the road that skirted the water’s edge. There was more traffic than usual – a purposeful to-ing and fro-ing of jeeps and trucks filled with soldiers and sailors – and they constantly had to step aside on to the grassy verge to make way for the speeding vehicles. Ruaridh was telling her about life on board the ship and his job as a signalman as they passed the main gates of the estate, when the hoot of a horn made them turn and look up the drive. A sleek burgundy-coloured saloon car was bouncing over the potholes towards them.
‘It’s Alec!’ Ruaridh sprang forward as the car pulled up alongside them, reaching to shake the hand of the young man, also in naval uniform, who had hailed them.
‘Ruaridh. You’re here too! And Flora.’ He shook each of their hands in turn. ‘It’s been years. But it’s so good to see you both again. Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Diana Kingsley-Scott.’ The elegant young woman sitting in the passenger seat looked a little bored, but waved a languid hand bedecked with a large sapphire engagement ring in their direction.
‘Congratulations! We hadn’t heard the news.’ Ruaridh clapped Alec on the shoulder.
‘I only popped the question last week. We thought we should come and tell my parents before the official announcement appears in The Times tomorrow.’
Alec Mackenzie-Grant’s smile hadn’t changed a bit since the days when the three of them had spent hours together as children, making pirate dens in the copse above Ardtuath House and sailing paper boats down the burn. He hadn’t been like the other boys in the playground at the tiny primary school they’d all attended, who’d ignored Flora, deeming her beneath acknowledgement on the twin counts of being a year younger and a girl. She remembered how he’d included her in the boys’ games, how he’d run over to back her up when she’d confronted Willie McTaggart over his bullying of Bridie, and how he’d picked her to be on his team for sports day. He and Ruaridh had been best friends during those carefree years, before Alec was sent away to prep school when he turned ten. And although their educational circumstances had separated them during term-time from that point on, the laird’s son and the keeper’s son had remained firm friends in the school holidays until the time came when Alec went off to university and spent his time at the family home in London or visiting friends in England in the breaks. Even though they’d drifted apart, the years seemed to fall away now that he was back.
‘Where are you headed?’ Alec asked.
‘Back to the jetty at Aultbea,’ replied Ruaridh. ‘I just managed to grab an hour ashore to come and see Dad and Flora. We sail tonight as escort to the Nelson.’
‘Well, that’s reassuring to know.’ Alec grinned. ‘I’ll be on board. You’re on one of the destroyers, are you? Fantastic. Hop in, we’ll give you a lift. Unless you’d rather walk, of course.’ He shot a look at Flora. ‘And you’re welcome to come, too, if you want. I know how precious time with family is.’
‘All right, and then I’ll stretch my legs on the walk back,’ she answered.
The Gordons climbed into the back of the car, which smelled of new leather.
‘I’m just running Diana back to Achnasheen to catch the train,’ Alec said.
‘Where is home for you, Miss Kingsley-Scott?’ Ruaridh asked politely.
‘Kensington,’ she replied. The flatness of her tone didn’t invite further questions.
There was a moment’s awkward silence and then Alec said, ‘Diana’s thinking of getting a job in the diplomatic service. Doing her bit for the war effort.’
‘Flora’s been knitting all afternoon, doing her bit, too,’ Ruaridh said.
Flora blushed with shame. It sounded very tame in comparison with ‘getting a job in the diplomatic service’.
As Alec drove she sat in silence, listening as the two men compared their experiences in the navy so far. They’d missed each other in Dartmouth, where Ruaridh had recently completed his signalman’s training soon after Alec had passed out from the Naval College as a sub-lieutenant assigned to the Home Fleet; and they must have overlapped at Portsmouth just last month, although their paths hadn’t crossed there among the melee of gathering ships.
On the headland before Aultbea, Alec pulled off the road and cut the engine, rolling down the window to let the sea air fill the car. In the sudden stillness, the four of them sat in silence, listening to the sound of the water’s quiet surge and the cries of the seabirds. For a few moments no one spoke. Diana tapped a manicured fingernail impatiently against the crocodile-skin handbag cradled on her lap.