First things first, let’s see if there areany more messages. I ease gently out of bed leaving Janey to her slumber andhead down to the kitchen. Michael is there just finishing off breakfast. Wehave a quick chat about what he has planned for the day and then it’s “bye dad”and off he goes. I’m left in silence, so I retrieve my phone and turn it on.Nothing. No more contact from George. This is a good thing. It gives me time tothink about my next steps. It’s 08:30, possibly too early to phone the carehome so I fix some breakfast for myself and Janey and take it upstairs.
It could’ve been me getting back into bedor the smell of the coffee, but a sleeping Janey bursts into life. “Breakfastin bed. Is it the weekend?” I explain unfortunately not. When she realises thetime, she takes a quick slurp of coffee and hastily shoves some clothes on.There’s clearly no time for a shower so she grabs a slice of toast and withthat she’s off.
It’s now after 9 a.m. and I too should bein the office. Instead, I phone in and tell Susie a little white lie – thatI’ll be in shortly, that I’m at the doctors. I phone the care home and Beatriceanswers after only a couple of rings.
“Morning Beatrice, it’s Thomas Taylorhere. I was just wondering how mother was doing.”
“Well Thomas, she’s had a good night andis bright as a button this morning. She had a chat with one of our domesticslate last night and was very lucid, able to recall various facts and memoriesso that was lovely. She has calmed right down. In fact, you’d almost think thatyesterday had never happened. Perhaps her illness has erased the memory?Anyway, we have no concerns about her, and I’ll tell her you’re asking forher.” I thank Beatrice and hang up.
This was what I’d hoped for. Hershort-term memory isn’t good at all and I wondered if she’d recall any of it.That at least provides welcome relief. Before I stow my phone away, I feel itpulse and vibrate in my hand. Another message from George – ‘Meet me at 1 p.m.at Bank Street Gardens.’ Once again George is in control, dictating the flow ofthings. I consider replying to his text then think better of it. I will meethim at the designated time and place and hear what he has to say first, thentake it from there. He has been persistent to say the least, so I guess I needto hear him out.
I head off to work and the morning passesuneventfully. I curse George for arranging to meet somewhere outside. It’sbitterly cold and there’s been a fresh flurry of snow. As I approach BankStreet I glance over at the gardens. The snow looks like spun sugar, it’s atruly magical scene. Then I catch myself as I remember why I’m here.
As I approach the gardens, I see thesolitary figure of George. We exchange pleasantries and George initiates theconversation.
“Afternoon Thomas, thank you for meetingme. I thought you and I could take a walk, it’s too cold to stop anywhere.”Well, I’m fine with that, at least we agree on something!
My plan to see what he has to say goesright out of the window and I jump straight in; “OK you have my attention. Youwant me to go back to Skye but why? For what reason? What do you plan toachieve by dragging me back there and what makes you think I’ll agree to it?”
“Slow down, Thomas, we’ll get to that.”
God this man frustrates me. He is alwaysso cool, calm, and collected. I guide us towards the black path, a walk whichruns alongside the Gala Water. I see the river is unable to flow freely withlarge clusters of ice along its length. The path is icy too so we walktentatively as it doesn’t appear to have been gritted.
I know there is no point in sayinganything further so I muster as much patience as I can and wait with batedbreath on his response. He makes me wait a good ten minutes or so then – “Haveyou never considered returning to Skye over the years, Thomas?” Is he playingwith me?!
“Of course I’ve never considered returningto Skye! You know fully well why not.”
“I have to be honest with you, Thomas,when I say I can’t tell you everything right now. There are things you don’t know,and I need you to trust me on this when I say you need to go back and see foryourself.” This was giving me very little to go on.
“Why can’t I just leave the past in thepast and continue on with my life? I have a good life here. Why would I want toput that in jeopardy by going on a wild goose chase up north?”
“Why indeed? Well, I’m sorry, but that’swhere we have to leave it but like I say there are things you don’t know. I’mheading back in a couple of days and I’ll stay in touch. You need to addressthis, Thomas. You think you’ve moved on with your life, but you haven’t, you’reliving a lie. Without addressing what happened in your past, you can neverfully move forwards. Goodbye for now, Thomas, and we shall speak soon.”
With that, he about turned and left mestanding there. I had no new information, yet his words struck a chord with me.I’d always known deep down that there was unfinished business in Skye. Ithought
