Body of Water (9 page)

"Why? Did something happen between them?"

If she rubbed that counter any harder she'd take the varnish off it. "I've said too much."

"Beuy, Dom is the least of yer worries," a feeble voice chuckled to my left. It was the old boy by the fireplace.

"Tammie!" Maggs whirled to face him. "Don't ye be interfering now or I'll ask ye to settle yer tab."

"Oh shut up, woman." His milky eyes turned to me and he gave me a wide, toothless grin. "Buy me a whisky and I'll tell ye why folks around here aren't fond of yer father, although they might be too scared to admit it." He looked pointedly at Maggs.

Intrigued, I bought him his drink and settled into the carver chair beside him. The leather was old and dry, much like Tammie himself, but it was comfortable and warm from the fire.

He kicked off his shoes to reveal feet barely covered by ragged socks. The old dog on his lap barked softly in its sleep. "It boils down to this, beuy; folks on these islands have long memories."

"And I'm guessing not much else happens here to help them forget."

The joke wasn't lost on him but his little laugh turned into a larger cough. The dog slept through it. Tammie pulled a hankie from his pocket and dabbed his mouth with a trembling hand. "I'm sorry to say ye speak the truth but it goes back further than that. Something one of yer forefathers did still plays heavy on their minds to this day."

"That doesn't sound fair."

"Folks do forgive but yer father seems to be cut from the same cloth as the one that started all the trouble."

I took a gulp of my pint and didn't respond. I was in no place to defend a man I didn't know myself. Besides, I wanted to know as much about my family history as I could.

Tammie continued. "So back in eighteen fourteen some ferrylouper by the name of Mackay sets himself up on the island. Folks took an instant dislike to him-"

"Just because he was different?" Wait until they got a load of me.

"No beuy, no. Because he was a wrongdoer." He held up a fragile hand. "Let me finish. Mackay owned plenty of land but wasn't too keen on folks trampling over it to visit the standing stones scattered throughout. He decided to tear them down, every one, starting with the Odin Stone-"

"Odin? Isn't he a Viking god?"

Once more, Tammie's laugh turned into a chesty cough. "Got ourselves a genius here, Maggs. Yes, beuy. In that one act he goes from general dislike to absolute hatred."

"Because of a stone?"

"Not just any stone, the Odin Stone. Folks round here visited the stones for all sorts of reasons; some for celebration, some for ceremonies and some for altogether darker reasons. The Odin Stone was believed to be the most powerful one of them all."

The room felt a little colder as I absorbed what he was saying. "So what happened?"

"Within a day of the Odin Stone falling, some islanders tried to burn down his house and drive him away but he stood fast. Finally someone got the law involved and stopped him from destroying any more but the real damage was already done."

"Couldn't they rebuild it?"

Tammie shrugged. "How could they? The pieces were lost. There's the odd drunk who swears that his millstone is part of it but no one can prove anything."

"So that's why people don't like my father?"

"No, but the association doesn't do him any favours. No, yer father set his sights on the old lighthouse on the northern cliff. Told everyone he was restoring it. Word got out that he was turning it into apartments and the builders, all being local lads, walked out and left him with the shell. Then he got sick and we haven't seen him since." Tammie fixed me with his milky eyes. "I must say ye look very well, considering."

"Considering what?"

He leaned towards me, his voice barely a whisper. "Considering yer father told us ye were dead."

Maggs appeared between us and snatched Tammie's glass from his clawed hand. "That's quite enough of that for one day, thank ye very much! Pay Tammie no attention, Leven. It's late and no doubt ye're keen to be getting home."

Tammie's dog woke up as they started bickering.

I'd stopped listening. I tried to process what Tammie had just said. Until recently, everyone had thought that I was dead.

Maggs was still talking. "- and he's on his way to fetch ye," she finished.

My attention shifted back from my thoughts. "Who?"

Tammie grinned at me again. He was enjoying this.

"Dom, of course. Ye looked a bit pale, boy, so I thought ye'd be better off at home, not here listening to all this nonsense." She glared at Tammie before bustling her way back to the bar. "Oh, here he is now."

And there he stood, as gigantic and as imposing as ever. To have arrived here so fast he must have been close by. Had he been watching me? He hovered in the doorway as I had done moments before. I was relieved that everyone stared at him for a change. One of the men at the table gave him a tentative wave which he acknowledged with a curt nod.

Tammie's dog growled at Dom and then pushed its head against its owner's hands, seeking comfort.

As he stroked the dog's greying head, Tammie sang softly.

"Ba, ba peerie t'ing, sleep a bonnie nappie; thoo'll sleep an' I will sing, makin' lassack happy. Ba, ba lammie noo, cuddle doon tae mammie; trowies canna tak' thoo, hushie ba lammie, hushie ba lammie, hushie ba..."

The song was familiar to me but I had no memory on which to attach either the lyric or the melody. The dog's eyes drooped and it was soon snoring again. My eyes felt heavy, too.

Maggs raised her eyebrows at Dom, her hands on her hips. When he didn't remove me fast enough for her liking she trundled over and pulled me up out of my chair. I dragged my feet like a reluctant child on its first day at school. She wanted me out of there. Fast. But why?

"I hope ye'll enjoy yer stay, lad. If you need anything before that then I'm sure Dom can help ye. I've given him strict instructions not to let you out of his sight until you're safely on your way home."

I looked up in time to catch a silent exchange between before she squared up to him. "And Dom, ye be sure to speak yer best for Leven here, ye ken?"

He glared at me then cleared his throat. "Aye, Maggs, Ah'll try ma very best tae speak better."

We were hurried outside before I could even say goodnight to Tammie. I struggled to keep up with Dom as he strode off in the direction of the house.

"What happened?" he grumbled. "Maggs said ye looked scared."

"Like you care. The old boy was telling me stories."

"A great gappus, is Tammie. Pay him no attention."

"So where were you to have arrived so fast?"

A mist was coming in and in the faded light the house glowed like a candle in a frosted jar. Dom slowed a little and then stopped. By the time I caught up to him he stood motionless, looking at anything but me.

I searched his face. "Well?"

His steel eyes caught mine for a moment before he dropped his head but he still didn't reply.

Kicking a stone across the path I watched it skid and roll before it came to a stop against the side wall. Just how I felt; sudden acceleration into this weirdness then - bam! - nothing. The only person that had told me anything so far was Tammie and I had been removed from his presence.

I pushed past Dom towards the house but stopped in front of the kitchen door. "Isn't there another way in?"

He gestured to my left. "Main door's roond there. Hasn't been used in years. Ah doubt Ah have the key."

I shrugged and shouldered the kitchen door open, the alcohol loosening my tongue. "No problem, I'm a back door kind of guy." I doubted he even knew what I meant. Gay guys from around here would probably have escaped on the first ferry to the mainland. In all my uncertainty I was sure of that.

Upstairs, I ran a bath and undressed quickly, eager to submerge myself into the steaming, foamy water. It felt so good to soak before I washed and shaved. I padded downstairs while I brushed my teeth and scanned the bookcase I'd noticed in the sitting room earlier. It took longer than planned so I swallowed mouthfuls of minty foam while I browsed.

A collection of pristine seventies paperbacks painted my father in a different light than I'd expected but the top shelves housed older, leather-bound tomes.

Several books on myths and legends caught my attention. As a kid, I'd loved the old movies about Greek heroes. On a cold, wet Sunday afternoon I'd wrap myself up and flick through the television channels until I found one to watch. I pulled a book about local legends off a shelf and climbed the stairs.

Getting into bed proved to be tricky. The sheet was fitted so tightly that I bent a fingernail as I worked it loose enough to get in. As soon as my head hit the pillow my nose started to itch and I realised that the room needed a good dusting. I flipped the pillow over carefully then skimmed the stories in the book but my body had other ideas and I disappeared into sleep's shadows.

The sun burns down on me. The dog lies at my feet. The man lifts the dog into his arms. The dog's head slips from the man's arms and water pours out of its mouth. I can't take my eyes of the water trickling between the dead blades of grass. It is moving towards me like it's alive. I reach out. My hand looks different, blackened skin cracked like an old lady's heels. I touch the water and instantly it is gone. My hand looks normal again. I point it at the man. He clutches his chest and starts to scream.

But his scream turned out to be my own. I woke, my t-shirt soaked through with sweat and, as I lifted my head off the pillow, I felt more sweat trickle down the back of my neck. I tried to shake off the dream like I had on so many other nights. I lay still and concentrated on slowing my breathing.

Once my heart rate returned to normal I switched on the lamp and checked my watch. Four in the morning. I'd hardly slept at all. My head pounded and the room felt cold. I made a mental note to move the bed away from the exterior wall later.

I heard noises from downstairs, the rustle of a coat perhaps and then the kitchen door opened and closed. I pulled the bedspread tight around me and crossed to the window, sliding in behind the curtains.

A large figure hurried down the slope to the beach to the right of my bedroom window. It had to be Dom and I wondered where he was going, again, at this time of night.

Fully alert now, I decided to follow him. I threw on as many layers as I could manage and went out into the night. The bitter wind numbed my jaw, and I pulled my scarf up to ward off the ache that it would turn into.

The slope was solid bedrock and I fell several times, too intent on not losing sight of Dom to pay much attention to my footing. Finally reaching the beach, I spotted him standing alone on the sand, a dozen feet from the tide mark.

As I approached, a wave raced towards him and he leaped backwards to avoid getting wet. I noticed how fast and graceful he was for his size but also that he moved like a man frightened not only of getting wet but of the water itself. His scared expression confirmed my suspicion.

He reacted to my arrival by turning his back on me and looking back out over the water.

I debated whether or not to keep walking and ignore him but he had seen me now. I had questions and was determined to get some answers.

"Mind if I join you?" I jammed my hands deeper into my pockets to keep them warm.

"Already here, aren't ye?" he said, his tone curt.

I forced a thin smile and tried to lighten my voice. "Didn't get off to a good start did we?"

"Nothing between us needs starting, beuy." His eyes never left the waves but the heavy lintel of his brow supported a furrowed forehead.

"Why are you out here so late?"

"Ye don't belong here. Go away."

"It's a public beach."

"Cheeky whalp. I could make ye disappear and no one would ever find ye, let alone care."

"Mackay might."

"Are ye as dumb as ye are ugly? Mackay thinks as much aboot ye as he does aboot me."

"You sound like a jilted boyfriend."

"What did ye say?" He took one step towards me and filled my field of vision.

"Well something weird is going on between the pair of you. Do you honestly expect me to believe that you're looking after him out of the goodness of your heart?"

As high as my voice had climbed, so his suddenly descended. "Yer Mackay's beuy? His son?" I suspected the rumble of his last few words could be felt on the mainland.

The spark in my stomach, then the flame, returned. "Who the hell did you think I was?" I stood my ground and glared at him, desperate not to show how much he intimidated me.

He looked me up and down so slowly I wondered if he was simply taking the time to think through all the ways he was going to kick my arse. Then I noticed that his body shook. A slight tremble but noticeable. He didn't meet my gaze. "Ah think we're done here."

"I don't think-"

"Ah said we're done." Tension stiffened his body making every hair on mine turn spiky. I decided that Dom's bite may well be as bad as his bark and took a step backwards. I seemed to retreat from this guy more often than not.

"We'll see what my father has to say."

Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth. "Run tae yer father if ye want, he won't tell ye nothing whatsoever, then ye can get out of ma sight, ye peedie bastard."

The flame exploded into fire. The speed of my punch surprised us both but he moved faster and stopped my incoming fist with his palm. He was so solid I felt like I'd punched concrete. Pain crackled through my forearm and into my shoulder.

His eyes dilated - with what, fear? - but then narrowed as his huge fingers wrapped over mine, crushing them until my knees buckled with pain. I sank to the sand before he released me.

"Get away from me. Now." His low growl quavered.

Dom didn't need to tell me to get away from him a second time. He had frightened me but I had frightened myself more. I'd never swung the first punch before. I'd had a few fights back in my wayward days but I'd never started them. In fact I had been handy enough with my fists to be the one that finished them.