It has pained me over the years whenThomas had tried to discuss his father with me and his upbringing in the croft.I think he has tried to shield me from the truth, not wanting to admit to mewhat a monster he truly is. How do I tell him I already know all of this? ThatI have witnessed it for myself with my own eyes? He doesn’t even know I have aconnection to Skye myself; that I had an aunt and cousins living here. (My aunthas since passed away, but I believe my cousins are still living here.)
More importantly, his biggest question isbound to be how did we end up together? If he knew I was that little girlstaring out of the window that day and that I notified the authorities, itwould shake the very foundations of our relationship and potentially tear usapart.
I was having recurring nightmares, thehorrid scene playing over and over in my mind. Yes, I had called for help but ahuge part of me wished I could have done more. I had helped the Police withtheir enquiries, giving them all the information I could, but then it all wentquiet, and I wasn’t ready to just close the door and move on.
It was at this point that George Traynorcontacted me. He informed me that he was working with Thomas in a counsellingcapacity and was keen to build up a full picture of Thomas’ background andcrucially what happened at Neist Point on February 12th, 1998. I wasonly too happy to help, still traumatised myself from what I had witnessed thatday and full of concern for Thomas’ welfare. Thomas was a virtual stranger tome, yet our paths had collided, and I was willing to do all I could to help.Seeing him there lying limp and lifeless had had a profound effect on me.Little did I know then that the poor lost soul left for dead at Neist Pointwould one day become my husband and father of my only child.
I had been staying at the lighthousekeepers’ cottages on holiday with my aunt. We had various activities planned butI recall our plans changed when (as is customary on Skye) the weather took aturn for the worse. I have always had a fascination with wild weather, so Iremember, on that fateful day, I had been transfixed, staring out of the windowwhen the snowstorm hit. I had hoped I would’ve been able to get out to explorein the snow, but it was far too wild, especially once the wind picked up speed.Imagine my surprise then when I saw lone figures appearing and heading in thedirection of the tip of Neist Point. I knew there was something decidedly wrongabout the scene. No-one in their right mind would have been out in that storm!They seemed to be almost oblivious of the conditions, so wrapped up they werein their ensuing altercation.
When I saw the oldergentleman (now my father-in-law) deliver that vicious blow, I remember being incomplete shock. I had been brought up in a close-knit, loving family and hadnever witnessed any violence. It shook me to the core. The callous nature withwhich the blow was delivered then him taking off like that, clearly the onlythought in his mind being to save his own skin. In that moment I wanted to wrapmy arms around poor Thomas, lying there, left for dead.
It was too wild, and he was too far awayfor me to see his face, but I can picture it in my mind’s eye for I often seeit in my now husband’s face. When he has a dark day, I see that little boy lostlook and I imagine this is what was etched on his face that day just before hewas struck down and lost consciousness.
It has been so hard over the years keepingthis secret from him. I can see he has wrestled with his demons from the pastand, although he tries to hide it, I know him only too well. That pain is stillthere and is still very raw. There have been so many occasions I have beensorely tempted to just blurt it out, ‘I know all about what happened, Thomas! Iwas there!’ But each time my head has ruled over my heart and rendered me mute.To tell the truth would mean opening a Pandora’s Box and I truly don’t knowwhether our relationship could withstand the ramifications of that happening.
When I initially responded to George’srequest to see me it was of course in the capacity as someone who witnessedeverything unfold at Neist Point. George was keen to hear about what happenedthat day from someone who saw it all first-hand. I can remember sheepishlyentering his offices with my aunt, quite unsure what to expect. She waited forme outside.
He put me at easeimmediately and didn’t push for information. He seemed quite happy to sit backand take things at a pace I was comfortable with. Part way through as I wasrecalling the story, he could hear my voice falter and saw the tears begin towell up in my eyes, so he kindly pushed the box of tissues in my direction. Atthis point I went to pieces. Everything came out. I told George about myrecurring nightmares and about how I kept seeing the image of Thomas’ bodylying there. It was haunting me in the waking hours too.
He remained calm and sympathetic. Wetalked for around an hour and he suggested I come and see him again before theend of my holidays. I only had a few days left and with this incident hangingover me I reasoned what harm could it do?
In the
