The Darkness Within Page 9

  She stopped and looked down from the window to where Sven was working in the garden. There was something in her expression, a sudden tenderness that prompted Rose to ask: ‘What happened?’

  Emily swung round to face her: ‘Nothing, until Sven arrived. He seemed so young but in actual fact he is only ten years younger than me, Rose.’ She sighed. ‘Of course, such things do not matter and do not raise one eyebrow if the man is a generation older than the woman, like Erland and me. But the other way round, even a few years older, and it is a talking point, a matter for serious consideration. “She’s older than him” – you must have heard whispers like that in your time. Right from the beginning, I felt attracted to him sexually. I had always loved Erland but I realised that it was a kind of hero-worship in those far-off days when I was looking after his wife. This was different, this was something at the root of my being and I knew he felt the same attraction for me.’ She paused. ‘Have I shocked you?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘No. Go on. Did you—?’

  ‘No, never,’ Emily said firmly. ‘It never even occurred to me or to Sven, who owed so much to Erland, that we should betray him.’

  Rose sighed. This was something very unexpected and she realised she would have been vastly more comfortable if she had seen Dr Randall in the role of Emily’s secret lover. ‘What about John, surely you realise that he is in love with you?’

  Emily smiled. ‘I try to ignore that. A nice man but I am not attracted to him. I suppose he has too long been the family doctor, the great friend.’

  Rose had no idea how Gran, who had a hawk-like eye on situations that held a breath of romance, illicit or otherwise, would view her beloved Emily and Sven. She decided to try her out when next they were alone in the kitchen. Moving the conversation away from what they were preparing for lunch, she said: ‘I was just thinking, it would be a good idea if Em met someone and got married again. It would certainly straighten out a few problems about the house’s future.’

  ‘She should marry John,’ was the prompt reply. ‘He would be right for her and for Magnus.’

  For a moment Rose pretended to be giving that careful thought. ‘What about Sven?’

  ‘What about him?’ Mary turned sharply. Trying to appear casual, Rose shrugged and said: ‘He’s a very attractive young man, friend of the family, trusted retainer for the last two years or so. And they seem to get along so well together. He helps her with everything, been invaluable since she lost Erland.’

  Mary snorted and applied herself vigorously to rolling pastry. ‘Far too young for her.’

  ‘That’s what everyone says when the woman is younger,’ Rose insisted, and she repeated Em’s words. ‘No one said that Erland was old enough to be her father and yet she married him. Did you think they would make an ideal pair?’

  ‘Don’t you be saying a word against Erland. He was the perfect man for her,’ Mary said sharply. ‘As for that Sven, well, he’s foreign to start with, and not the right man to move into Yesnaby.’

  ‘He seems to be here already, Gran, and by Erland’s wish. He brought him.’ Rose reminded her.

  ‘That was maybe a mistake, maybe not. Erland usually knew what he was doing.’

  ‘Well, from what Em tells me, he thought the world of Sven, so surely he would be pleased to see the two people he loved most spending the rest of their lives together?’

  Mary shook her head. ‘I doubt that. Far too full of himself that young man, for a start. And he likes the girls, from what I hear, and they like him.’

  Rose smiled. ‘Emily likes him too, Gran.’

  ‘And that’s a long way from bed and board and happy ever after,’ Mary smapped.

  Rose gave her a shrewd look. ‘You don’t like him much, do you, Gran?’

  Mary shrugged. ‘Whether I like him or not is of no importance. He is part of this household, a good servant, I grant you that, and a great help to our Em with all that correspondence. But that doesn’t mean I want to see him as head of the house. What does he do with his time all day when he isn’t in that garden?’

  ‘He’s been trying to find out what’s happening on the yacht out there.’

  Mary sniffed. Since the King was not on board, she wasn’t interested. ‘He’s a leaner, that’s what.’ And that was her final word on Sven.

  Their plan was to visit the Broch of Birsay that day. Magnus, who had inherited his father’s love of history, wanted to stop on the way and show Meg the Neolithic village, a link with Orkney’s first inhabitants.

  ‘It’s just a few miles away, no distance really, we could practically walk there – and you must see it. Father took me there quite often. Grandfather wasn’t around when it was discovered.’

  Faro had never seen Skara Brae but accounts of its remarkable preservation made interesting reading. In 1850 a wild storm swept away all the dunes that it had lain hidden under for past centuries.

  Rose, too, was intrigued, she had been promised a visit ten years ago, but the emergence of the peat bog woman and its dramatic and terrifying consequences put visiting ancient ruins out of everyone’s thoughts.

  Now was the perfect opportunity: a clear sky, warm sun, and no wind had arisen. Faro, Rose and the children would go with Sven driving the car, while Mary, busily packing a picnic hamper, decided to remain at Yesnaby with Emily.

  There were still letters to write, thanking the friends and acquaintances who had come from far and wide over the islands and beyond Orkney for the funeral. Erland had travelled widely abroad and had been a very popular man, Emily told them, and she had received condolences from a circle of acquaintances – friends even – who she had never heard of, names that he had never mentioned.

  ‘Thank goodness for Sven. Without his help I’d be completely lost. He can deal with the letters from Norway and help with folk he knew Erland had met. He’s an absolute gem. I was so shocked – I still am – and he immediately stepped in, took over everything. I don’t know what I would do without him. It’s like having a personal secretary and I feel very privileged that he is willing to continue—’

  Pausing, she put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh dear, there’s something else I’d forgotten. We were to expect a visit any day now from this fourth cousin twice removed, or something of the sort. This woman, Alice, lives in Aberdeen. Erland mentioned her father, William Yesnaby, occasionally, there were even some family photos taken on beaches, that sort of thing, if I can lay hands on them.’ Emily sighed. ‘I thought I’d written to her. I hope she got my letter before she left. Awful if she just walked in!’

  Rose could see the problem. None of the Faros shone at letter writing, although her father was doing his best with Imogen. It was all rather bewildering as each day the postman still brought letters from shocked colleagues and people who had given Erland hospitality or still remembered a brief meeting. All had to have replies and Mary insisted that she could at least address the envelopes.

  If she had been truthful, her main reason was that this was a good excuse not to go on a picnic, which she never enjoyed, sitting on a rug, mostly feeling the cold.

  Rose also offered to stay. In the light of her sister’s recent revelations, she was regarding Sven from a somewhat different angle and had her own ideas about the eulogistic tone of those condolences. So many people who had known and cared for Erland, this quite ordinary-seeming man, was it his beautiful voice that had left them enchanted by his presence?

  As for this unseen stranger cousin about to descend on Yesnaby, never could have a longed-for visit have been so inopportune or embarrassing: to have made the journey all the way from Aberdeen to be met with such dire news.

  Emily was saying: ‘No, you go with Pa and the children. You have never been there and,’ she added sadly, ‘meeting so rarely over the years, I do want you and Pa to take back some pleasant memories.’

  They were about to leave when PC Flett arrived at the door. One look at his harassed expression indicated bad news. And they were right about that.

 
; ‘Is Inspector Macmerry here? There’s been an accident.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I had a message from Millie, to tell you she can’t come today.’ Flett shook his head gravely. ‘Her lad, Archie, has been attacked – last night. Down on the shore.’

  ‘How dreadful,’ Emily exclaimed. ‘Is he seriously hurt?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. Dr Randall is still with him. Hit over the head, he was. Knocked unconscious when they found him.’

  ‘Does he know who attacked him?’

  Again, the policeman shook his head. ‘Can’t get a word of sense out of him at the best of times, so you can imagine what he’s like now. I tried my best and so did Millie. But all he does is keep mumbling something about selkies and looking round wildly, trying to escape. I had to hold him down for the doctor to examine him.’

  Rose and Emily exchanged glances. Had this attack revived his terror and guilt about believing he had shot a seal who had turned into an old woman, Sibella, who had slid away like that animal and vanished into the sea before his eyes.

  ‘I must go to Millie,’ Emily said. ‘You go on to Birsay.’

  ‘I think not, Em,’ said Faro, who was also associating this talk of selkies with Archie’s extraordinary shooting incident. ‘I would like a word with this young man. Perhaps I can help him,’ he added, without much hope of that.

  Magnus and Meg exchanged glances and accepted this change of plans with suppressed sighs of disappointment but quite philosophically; Meg could have warned her cousin that this was the way of grown-ups, especially if you had the misfortune to have a father who was also a police inspector. The wry look at her mam confirmed without any words that it was always to be expected, a family failing. Rose’s reaction had been to go with Faro, but on reflection, the presence of two strangers, particularly that of a woman, would probably merely increase his confusion.

  ‘I’ll go to Birsay with the children, Pa,’ she said. ‘Sven can take us in the car. It’s only a short distance to Hopescarth, and you can walk there, you know the way.’

  Faro agreed with a sense of relief. Emily would be taken up with Millie and he would have the chance he had been waiting for to talk to Archie alone. Originally, it had been curiosity about the seal-shooting incident, now there was an added more urgent reason, and as he and Emily headed towards Millie’s croft, he wondered if there might be some sinister connection.

  They had learnt from PC Flett that the lad’s injuries had not been bad enough to put him in hospital. ‘Aye, just one or two bruises where he fell and the doctor thought it better to keep him at home with his bandaged head. Places where people are confined to bed just terrify him, scare the wits out of the poor lad. Make him a thousand times more confused.’

  Millie opened the door to them, distraught and tearful.

  ‘It was terrible, terrible. He didn’t come home and he’s been spending hours every night by the shore down there, hoping to get a selkie. He’s done it for – for a couple of years now.’ She paused and the horrified look at Emily confirmed Faro’s suspicions that this was since the seal shooting. ‘We just have to humour him. Sometimes he stays out all night but when I got home yesterday, he hadn’t been home. I waited, stayed awake, and in the early hours I got scared. I knew something was wrong and I ran down to the shore. There he was lying in the dunes, with his poor head bleeding. Two nights ago he said he’d seen a selkie among the seals but before he could reach her, she’d disappeared. He was sure she was meant for him and she’d come back if he would just go and wait every night. That was when the man hit him.’

  She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘Thought at first he was killed, lying there not moving, but when I touched him, he just groaned and said someone had crept upon him and hit him, trying to steal his selkie. I didn’t want to leave him, but he’s a big lad and so I ran to Flett’s house, got him up and he came and helped me to get Archie on his feet. Once we were back home, Flett said although there didn’t seem much damage – he could still walk – he’d get the doctor to have a look at him. Dr Randall came quick, like, and said there was no cause for alarm, a great bump on his head, but you’d never see it, he has such a head of hair. He said keep him quiet for a day or two, there might be a bit of concussion and that would make him more confused than ever.’ She began wringing her hands and looked up at Emily. ‘What am I going to do, Mrs Yesnaby? Who would want to harm my poor peedie bairn?’

  Who indeed? was Faro’s immediate thought. Did he have any enemies? Millie laughed at the idea. Her lad was everyone’s friend, far and wide. It was the wide bit that particularly interested Faro.

  ‘What about beyond home?’ Faro asked. ‘In Stromness or even Kirkwall?’

  Again that scornful laugh from Millie. She looked at Faro as if he had gone mad. Such an incredible idea. ‘He never stirred beyond Hopescarth. If he ever went into Stromness, it was with me. He was scared of strangers and would never go alone, especially after … after that other business.’

  Pausing, she shook her head: ‘That left a terrible scar on him. He was always a bit different from other folk, not like me or his poor father, who died before Archie was born, but he seemed to manage and we always understood each other. We were that close and he told me everything. He trusted me.’

  Following her into the tiny bedroom where Archie was propped up in bed surrounded by pillows, Faro received a shrill scream and a look of wild terror at this appearance of a stranger.

  ‘That’s him – that’s him that hit me!’ he yelled and tried to leap out of the bed, forcibly restrained by his mother and Emily, their repeated explanation that this gentleman was here to help at last calming him, but he continued to stare fearfully at Faro.

  At last, they settled Archie down with sympathy offered and assurance that he was mistaken and that this gentleman was Mr Faro, Mrs Yesnaby’s father. The wicked man who attacked him would be found and punished by the police.

  Faro guessed from the groans and indistinct murmurings that there was little more to be gained from the interview than he had learnt from Millie, apart from the part oft-repeated about a stolen selkie that was rightfully his.

  ‘The poor lad,’ Emily said as they walked home, ‘has never been quite right in the head, a lifetime obsession with selkies and Lammastide legends.’

  The Birsay visit had been postponed. It was raining and Sven had driven into Kirkwall.

  ‘He must have forgotten to remind me,’ said Emily apologetically. ‘This is market day and he was hoping to meet a prospective buyer.’

  ‘What happened? How’s Archie?’

  Rose and Mary were receiving her abridged account of the bewildering meeting with Archie when footsteps outside had Meg leaping to her. ‘It’s Pa! He’s back.’

  Jack came in, exchanged kisses and hugs, and then, looking over Meg’s head, he said: ‘I’m really going back to Edinburgh this time, just here to collect my case.’

  ‘Didn’t you see Sven in Kirkwall with the car?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Didn’t know he was there; that would have saved me a trip on the bus. There’s a ship for Leith, we leave at five in the morning, so I’ll stay the night at the hotel.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t want to disturb everyone, or wake you from your beauty sleep, Rose. Of course, you don’t need it,’ he added hastily as her hand reached up to slap him. ‘Maybe Sven needs his; I don’t think he’d relish the prospect of driving into Kirkwall at dawn.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll miss you,’ groaned Meg, clinging to him, ‘I want you to stay for ever.’

  Jack laughed. ‘If I did, pet, we would all starve. No money or anything. Besides you have school very soon and your mam and I have work to do every day.’

  ‘You were needed here earlier on,’ Meg replied. ‘Guess what! Millie’s son had an accident. He was attacked by a man while he was watching the seals.’

  Jack darted a questioning look at Rose, who said: ‘Pa and Emily went to see him, nothing serious,’ she added hastily. Not wishing the children to be alarmed by a lur
king attacker in the neighbourhood, which at the least might encourage nightmares, she was to discover that her fears were groundless, such dangers being treated merely as additional excitement.

  Emily said, ‘I suspect he just fell and hit his head and imagined the rest. Hardly an incident needing an investigation by a police inspector from Edinburgh.’

  ‘That’s a relief, anyway,’ Jack said. ‘Can’t imagine there’s much in the way of crime in Hopescarth.’ He paused. ‘By the way, Rose, I’m taking your father back to Kirkwall with me. There’s someone who has always wanted to meet him, just a social visit,’ he added at her expression, ‘an admirer.’

  As he finished speaking, Sven arrived back with the motor car and Rose went in search of Faro, who was enjoying a pipe and wondering if he had missed something essential in Millie’s account and Archie’s inarticulate version of the accident.

  He put out his pipe and said yes, he would enjoy a visit to Kirkwall. ‘What is it all about, this man who wants to meet me?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘Jack told me nothing, just some fellow he’d met.’ They both knew what that meant. Over the decades, Chief Inspector Faro’s reputation had followed him. She had learnt from experience that such reputations soon build up. In eleven years, she had made a name for herself as a lady investigator and now often encountered strangers in Edinburgh who had heard of her and took the opportunity of asking for advice.

  Family farewells repeated once more, Jack’s eyebrows raised in mock despair. ‘This is getting to be a habit,’ he said. Disentangling Meg’s arms from around his neck and setting her feet firmly on the ground, he leant over and kissed Rose.