Annaldra
Chapter 5

The tight knot of nerves in Ann’s stomach had woken her early. She was not only excited to the point of bursting, she was equally as apprehensive. Tonight she would meet Swain again. Only now, he was someone else: someone who knew nothing of his life with her in another time. Now he was Finley, the village minister, married with a child. The thought pained her like a betrayal even though she knew it was not, well, at least not a conscious one. It had taken her over an hour to fall asleep the previous night as she lay in the darkness imagining their reunion, and all its possible scenarios. The worst being he did not remember her, although that was unlikely as he was twelve when she left. However, he might now be indifferent towards her, and the best being the faerie-tale outcome where he not only remembered her, but he also remembered Eleanora and swept her off her feet declaring his undying love for her. Though, deep down she knew the most likely scenario was somewhere in-between, where he would be happy to see his long lost ‘little sister’ again, as up until she left they were raised, more or less, as siblings.

She could not face breakfast, her stomach being too unsettled to risk food, so instead she decided to walk to the Clementina Stones. Perhaps being close to her parents might help take her mind off Swain and their reunion later that evening.

‘Off somewhere, are we? Not planning to run off again I hope?’ said a voice from behind as she locked her bedroom door.

‘Donald,’ she was surprised to see him after yesterday’s cold encounter. ‘What are you doing here?’

Donald’s stern face softened to a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Ann, I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you yesterday. I’m here to apologise.’

‘You don’t need to apologise. I am the one who is sorry. Truly I am. I did not mean—’

‘No, Ann, you did me a huge favour, and I also want to thank you.’

‘Eh! You want to thank me?’

‘Aye, I do,’ Donald wore a smug grin. ‘I’m clean now thanks to you, the worst part is over and I will stay off the smack now. Look,’ he held out his right hand. ‘It’s perfectly still. I’ve stopped shaking, and the pain has gone. I feel great, Ann. Brand new.’

‘That’s wonderful, I’m so pleased,’ she said giving him a friendly hug. ‘But, I do not understand why you’re thanking me.’

‘For going missing and getting me flung in that pokey wee cell for three days. I had nae choice but to stop.’ He was smiling at her as he spoke.

‘So it was a good thing?’ she asked sounding cautious. It didn’t sound that good.

‘Aye, it was. Though I must say I didn’t appreciate it at the time … and well, yesterday I was in a bad place. I still had pain, but that wasn’t the only reason I was so rude…’

Ann raised her eyebrows in question.

‘I was beside myself with worry for you. When I first heard you were missing I blamed myself for not walking you back to the hotel. It was six days of hell not knowing where you were, or what had happened to you. Then, you show up all chirpy without a care in the world. I can’t tell you how angry I was with you.’

‘I am so sorry. I can’t believe how selfish I was, but I had no idea…’ Of course, she would never knowingly have gone off for six days without telling someone, but that’s what everyone assumed she’d done. ‘I just didn’t think. I’m sorry.’

‘Well I’m glad you’re safe. Just promise me you won’t do anything like that again.’

‘I promise.’ She smiled. ‘Anyway, I was heading out for a walk, do you fancy joining me?’

‘Sure. Where to?’

A wave of relief swept over Ann. Donald would be just the distraction she needed today. ‘I thought I would go to the Clementina Stones. It’s such a lovely day.’

‘Are you sure you want to? You know that’s where your mother died?’

No, she didn’t. My mother is alive and well, living in the Otherworld with my father, was what she wanted to say, but instead she replied, ‘I know, it will be fine.’

The walk to the stones passed quickly with Donald’s incessant chatter. He talked about his heroin addiction, how he had not considered giving it up until it was forced on him. He explained about the physical addiction, how his body depended on it and the pain his body experienced when it was denied. He even told her how he started. How he almost lost the will to live when his girlfriend had died. Two weeks after Annabelle’s death, he took the bus to town to buy hash. However, that week his usual dealer was out, so he went to see an old school mate who had moved to the town. They smoked joints all afternoon until the hash ran out. Then his friend said he could get his hands on some smack if he wanted; they would just smoke it. Donald agreed, not caring if it killed him, but what it did was numb his pain, fogging his thoughts far better than dope ever could. Within a week, he was injecting. It was easy to get. The town was full of it being a ferry port. It became his crutch, being the only thing that made his life bearable. Yet, it was clear to Ann he still found Annabelle’s death a difficult subject to talk about as he skimmed over it, so she did not push the topic. He did, however, talk a lot about the ‘junkie label’: how it had blackened his character with most of the villagers, even his friends. They looked down on him although he had not changed. It was their attitude towards him that had. He was still living and behaving as he always had, making music, writing songs and living simply. He had been well-liked in the village before he took heroin. No one minded the way of life he and Annabelle had chosen to live. In fact, many people respected them for it; some even envied them… living in a caravan, fishing, growing most of their own food, making wine. It felt right, a life without complications. They were happy. The little money they needed came from Donald selling songs and busking, and Annabelle worked as an ancillary nurse at the hospital a few evenings a week. Now he was clean, Donald realised he was strong enough emotionally to cope with his grief.

Ann enjoyed his chatter, her own thoughts put aside as she listened.

‘Well, wouldn’t you agree they are rather impressive, eh?’ said Donald gesturing to the stones on top of the mound.

‘Wow, they really are,’ said Ann as though it was the first time that she had seen them.

Seeing them in daylight, they were impressive being one of the largest and best preserved stone circles in Europe. There had originally been fifty-two stones, between six and eight feet tall, but only thirty-five still stood upright. In the centre was the flat stone her parents spoke of, the place where she was to cast the spell. Kneeling beside it, she closed her eyes and stroked it with her palms, tracing the cup and ring petroglyphs with her fingers. She had imagined she would sense something special from it, magical even, but it felt ordinary: cold, hard and dead like other stones. Experts assumed it was a burial marking even though it was unexcavated, so no one knew for sure what its purpose was. Feeling a trifle disappointed, she walked around the circle. Taking her time, and touching each stone, she wondered about their ancient purpose. Clearly, it was a portal to the Otherworld, but they must also have a magical significance, power even. Why else was this the place to cast the spell? Whatever its purpose the sense of serenity it gave her was just what she needed. When she finished her circuit, she joined Donald as he sat on one of the fallen stones staring out at the ocean, shimmering and glistening with diamonds. Soothed and at peace on the lonely plateau the two of them sat in comfortable silence lost in their own thoughts.

‘Places like this used to fascinate me,’ said Donald from nowhere. ‘No one really understands them or the people that built them. I would love to know their secrets. You know, after I left school I was studying archaeology at university.’

Ann turned to stare at him. ‘So what happened?’

Donald shrugged. ‘I dropped out. I suppose I wasn’t comfortable disturbing graves… It felt wrong to me.’

‘It is wrong,’ agreed Ann. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘Why does it become acceptable the longer someone’s been dead? Is it because no one knows or remembers them, it makes it okay? It does not matter how long someone has been dead for, they should be left to rest in peace. As for removing their grave goods… well it felt like robbery to me.’ Donald shook his head.

Ann could detect agitation in his tone. ‘Tunkeeta said grave goods were an offering to the earth. They are the goods a person used during their life, but they weren’t buried with them for use in the afterlife… they were being returned to the earth. You see everything comes from the earth, but it is only borrowed so should be returned when we die. Not just our bodies, but also the things we used.’

‘I think I would really like Tunkeeta,’ Donald smirked. ‘She could be right.’

‘Come in, Annaldra, come in,’ said Padraig, his smile warm and welcoming. ‘You’re the first one here.’

Ann was unsure if she was glad or not. She desperately wanted to see Swain again, but was also afraid how she would react when she did.

‘Fin will be here shortly and you will get to meet his family. Let me take your coat.’

‘Here this is for you,’ said Ann handing Padraig a bottle of wine.

‘Thank you,’ said Padraig, taking the wine from her. ‘I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you.’

Ann swallowed hard. ‘Me too,’ she said trying her best to sound upbeat. She had been restless all night imagining her reunion with Finley. She prayed she would remain composed. He would not remember her as Eleanora, his wife from centuries ago. He would remember her as Annaldra, the small child he adored. However, she knew exactly who they were, and that was what worried her.

‘What about Seonag, is she coming?’ If Seonag came, it would be another distraction, someone else to focus on.

‘Aye, she’s coming. Scott has gone to collect her,’ said Padraig.

Ann was pleased. ‘She’s having a good day then?’

‘I believe so, but you’ve got to understand my wife suffers from extreme psychosis. She can change in an instant. From charming and relatively normal to … well,’ he scratched his head and sighed, leaving a lengthy pause before he continued. ‘Let’s hope she doesn’t have an episode today.’

Ann could understand his reluctance to talk about it. It was so sad. ‘Is there nothing you can do to help her… with your experience?’

‘All we can do is try to make things as normal as possible for her and help her remember things when she forgets, but her brain is damaged. There is no cure. When she starts ranting the only thing we can do is give her pills. I’m really hoping she will remember you. If she does, there is a good chance she may revert seventeen years. They were happier times for her, but don’t be surprised if she cannot remember you. We will just need to take her as she comes. Scott will tell her you are back when he collects her. I didn’t see any point in telling her sooner. If she does remember you, it might have angered her that she wasn’t getting to see you straight away, or just confused her.’

‘I understand,’ was all she said before the noise of a car stopping outside interrupted their conversation.

Every nerve end in her body began tingling with anticipation. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to meet Finley, but would she ever be? She doubted her ability to keep it together. Outside could be Swain, her husband she lost a millennium ago, who was now married to someone else… and to make matters worse they had a child. She sighed at the thought; progeny was the strongest of all bonds.

Padraig hurried to the window and waved out smiling.

‘Who is it?’ Ann asked hoping it would be Scott and Seonag.

‘It’s Finley. My, will he be surprised to see you here? You wait here while I get the door,’ said Padraig sounding like an excited child.

Ann could hear the muffled greetings through the closed door, everyone chattering at once. Then through the happy chat, she clearly heard Padraig say, ‘Put Gracie’s bag in the living room, Fin.’

Ann stood motionless holding her breath, trying to still her racing heart. She wanted to run and hide. This was too much, and she was not ready, but there was nowhere to go. Time stood still as the door creaked open.

Still happily chatting, Finley entered the room. However, he stopped mid-sentence when he saw her, his jaw dropping as he put down the bag in slow motion.

Ann could not be sure he recognised her. It had, after all, been seventeen years since he last saw her, and she was a toddler then. Still, she recognised him. Looking in his eyes there was no doubt it was Swain; she could feel his soul radiating through his dark eyes, and he was not that different looking either. He had the same tall, broad, lean build and gentle eyes Swain had, and his hair was still dark and wavy though shorter, but still long enough to tie back should he choose. He was beautiful. A sight angels would behold. Then, realising they had both been staring in silence at one another for some time, she managed to muster a small ‘hi,’ accompanied by a timid smile and wave.

‘No, it can’t be. Oh my god, Annaldra, I do not believe it,’ said Finley, his voice getting louder with each word.

‘Yes, it’s me, I’ve come back for a visit,’ said Ann trying to stop herself weeping. Her whole being wanted to cry out her undying love for him, making him remember she was his wife.

‘Go on give the lass a hug,’ Padraig nudged his son on the arm. By now, Elaine had entered the room to see who it was.

‘Come here,’ said Finley, walking to her with outstretched arms.

With his strong arms wrapped tightly round her, Ann buried her head in his chest. In that perfect moment, the centuries melted away, and everyone and everything around evaporated, as she became Eleanora once more embracing her husband. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply through her nose. She could smell him, a deep earthy musk scent, exactly as she remembered. Swain it is me, Eleanora your wife. Please say you remember me, she wanted to blurt out, but instead she sniffed back a tear and enjoyed the moment.

‘I never thought I’d see you again, I thought that I’d lost you forever,’ he said softly still holding her tightly in his arms. She caught her breath; his words were so heartfelt. Of course he remembered her, but did he remember Eleanora? She was sure he would feel the pounding of her heart against his body.

‘Give the lass some air,’ interrupted Elaine causing the two of them to break apart.

Ann looked away, certain her face looked flushed. She stared at the floor unable to look Finley in the eye as her emotions were at the point of erupting. He would surely be able to see how she felt about him. How in love she was with him. Stay calm and breathe!

‘There, didn’t I tell you he’d remember you. You might only have been two-and-a-half when you left, but I knew he would recognise you. You have not changed that much and your hair and your green, green eyes are a big giveaway. You know, Finley, Annaldra remembered you as well. She even remembered that funny wee name she called you, fancy that,’ said Padraig, forgetting again, what the name was.

‘Swain. I was her Swain. I remember too.’

In that timeless moment, Ann’s heart ceased beating and she could feel her knees weaken. Did he actually remember being Swain? Was the faerie-tale ending she had imagined really happening? But alas, her hope was short lived.

‘That’s what she used to call me when she was a bairn,’ said Finley turning to address his wife.

Jerked back to reality, Ann realised he was not embracing her as Swain as she hoped. He had no idea who they had once been. How could he? He was Finley now, a minister with a wife and baby. Swain was dead.

‘This is Elaine and Gracie,’ said Finley excitedly, gesturing towards his wife who was standing at the window with a bundle of blankets in her arms.

‘Hi, it’s nice to meet you,’ lied Ann. ‘I’m Ann or as they call me round here, Annaldra,’ she said as she forced herself to smile at Finley’s wife. It was easy to see what attracted him to her. She was tall, but not as tall as Ann, slim and pretty; much prettier than Ann would have preferred. Her curly blonde hair was styled in a cute bob and she had a kind smile. She looked the sort of person she might be friends with if the circumstances were different. However, Ann did not want to be friends with this woman—she wanted to be her!

‘Hi, it’s lovely to meet you. This is Gracie,’ she said gesturing to the sleeping baby, swaddled in blankets she cradled in her arms.

Ann gazed at the gorgeous little girl, so perfect and peaceful, and imagined what her baby would have been like. She had not even known what sex her baby was, although a crone who could read animal entrails had told her it was a girl. Whether she had been right or not, she would never know.

‘She is adorable, and she looks so peaceful,’ said Ann stroking a tiny finger.

‘She’s a good wee soul, we couldn’t have asked for a better baby. Could we, Fin?’ said Elaine smiling affectionately at her husband.

‘No, we certainly could not have,’ he agreed, but he was still staring at Ann.

‘So, Annaldra,’ said Elaine with a warm smile. ‘I’ve heard so much about you. You know you made quite an impression on the Ranalds.’

Ann grinned; she could not help it. It was nice to hear she had been so significant to them, especially to Finley it would seem, if Elaine had heard a lot about her.

‘She certainly did,’ agreed Padraig. ‘It has been great having her back.’

‘When did you get here?’ asked Finley.

‘A week ago, but I had to attend some business. I got back yesterday so I’ve only actually been in the village for three days.’

‘She gave us quite a scare. She left without a goodbye, or a note, but all’s well that ends well,’ said Padraig as he put an arm around her and her gave her a reassuring hug. ‘Anyway, we want to hear all about your holiday. Did little Miss Gracie enjoy Italy?’

‘Oh, that will be Scott and Mum,’ said Finley diverting from the subject hearing a car stopping outside.

‘Aye, that will be them, I didn’t hear from Scott so she must be okay today.’

They all fell silent waiting for Scott to bring his mum in. ‘Mind the step Mum,’ they could hear him saying. ‘On you go through, everyone’s in the living room.’

When Seonag walked in Ann had not been sure what to expect. Though she had assumed she would at least look similar to the smartly dressed woman with neat brown hair and glasses that Padraig had shown her in photographs, only older. She certainly did not expect to see the manic preacher woman from the fountain in the town. Yet, there she stood, dressed in a purple and orange tie-dyed kaftan with a black woollen poncho, her long matted hair now neatly brushed and held back from her face by a rainbow bandana, looking like she had walked straight out of the nineteen-seventies. Even though her appearance had greatly altered, and the hysteria had left her, there was no denying it was the same woman. She smiled warmly at everyone, her face now gentle, but inside the same uncomfortable feeling that Ann experienced the day she arrived,had returned. Will she remember me, she wondered with dread. She hoped not.

‘Seonag,’ said Padraig greeting his wife with a hug.

‘I’ve missed you Padraig. How are you?’

‘Good, but missing you.’

Everyone glanced at each other with optimistic expressions. This was going well.

‘Where is Annaldra?’ said Seonag going over to see the baby in Elaine’s arms. ‘This isn’t Annaldra. Where’s Annaldra?’ she panicked as everyone realised she was not as good as they had hoped.

Ann waved at Seonag. ‘Here I am,’ she said with a forced smile. ‘I am all grown up now.’

‘Annaldra, you’re Annaldra?’ Seonag looked confused.

‘Aye, this is Annaldra. She has come back for a visit. Remember, she was adopted seventeen years ago,’ said Padraig leading his wife over to Ann.

‘Of course I remember,’ said Seonag shrugging her husband’s hands from her shoulders.

From the corner of her eye, Ann could see Scott rolling his eyes.

‘I am so happy to meet you again,’ said Ann embracing Seonag.

‘It’s lovely to see you again, my dear. And my, what a bonnie woman you’ve become.’

‘Thank you.’ Ann breathed a sigh of relief. She obviously had forgotten what she meant when she had called out to her ‘It is you!’ Perhaps it had been a glimmer of recognition and for the briefest of moments in the town she had recognised her, remembering her as the child who once lived with them. Yes, it could be that, or it was simply the ramblings of a mad woman. Whatever it had been, it did not matter now as she clearly remembered nothing of the incident.

Seonag greeted Elaine with the same charm she had with Padraig before moving to Finley.

As they embraced, Seonag suddenly pushed him away with such force it made him stumble into the wall. The colour drained from her face and with eyes glaring wildly, she pointed at her son. ‘He will kill us all! Get him away from me, get him away,’ she cried in a terrified tone. ‘Please do something! We will all die!’ her voice sounding more panicky with each sentence.

Scott knee-jerk laughed. ‘Well that’s a new one.’

Padraig looked disappointed. ‘This is our son Finley. He’s not going to kill us. He’s a minister, remember.’ He put his arms around his wife and led her, still shaking, to the hall, leaving everyone in the room uneasy.

This was awkward. ‘Maybe I should go?’ offered Ann. Seonag’s madness had returned and witnessing such a private family matter made her uncomfortable.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Finley. ‘I’ve never seen her aggressive like that towards anyone, so why me?’

‘Don’t worry about it, Bro. She’s been having more of her visions recently. On the way over all she talked about was the number of wraiths she’s seen.’

‘Wraiths, whose wraiths?’ demanded Elaine.

Finley’s face was incredulous. ‘And you brought her? Why?’

‘Well, she seemed level headed talking about it. Not her usual manic ramblings.’

‘Whose wraiths?’ snapped Elaine, her voice risen.

’You know, people at the hospital, but if you’re going to see wraiths and they were actually real, that’s where you would see them, right, Fin.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Ann. ‘She can see ghosts?’

The two men looked at each other, unsure what to say.

Elaine shook her head at the brother’s reluctance to tell her. ‘Not ghosts exactly,’ she said. ‘Well I suppose they are, but they are ghosts of a person still alive, like a doppelganger. Here in Scotland it is called the Sight, or Second Sight to be more precise.’

‘Second Sight?’

‘Yes, it’s like ESP. Seonag knows when people will die. She can see the wraiths of people who will soon die while they are still alive. If she sees your wraith you know you do not have long for this world.’

‘Well, that’s if you believe all that mumbo jumbo. Mum’s just confused,’ said Scott dismissively.

‘She’s never been wrong now, has she? And she has predicted over ten deaths now,’ said Elaine.

‘You don’t believe all this stuff, do you, Fin?’ asked Scott. ‘The church wouldn’t believe in all that nonsense, would it?’

‘No, of course not,’ Finley sounded unconvincing as he stared at the floor. ‘But somehow she always gets it right.’

‘So if Second Sight thing is real, what does it mean… those things she said about you killing everyone?’ asked Ann.

‘It’s not real,’ said Scott. ‘Look, the wraiths she was going on about tonight were a couple of geriatrics who are at death’s door, anyway. Anyone of us could predict those deaths, so don’t concern yourself with it. Mum’s been ranting on about the end of the world and everyone dying, ever since… well, you know, since her aneurism. She is one of those prophets of doom, an apocalyptic preacher always talking about doomsday, and believes everyone will die… especially on Hogmanay,’ he chuckled. ‘It means nothing, she’s lost her grasp of reality and jumbles things up she’s seen on telly.’

Don’t I know it, I’ve seen her in action, but Ann just nodded sympathetically.

Padraig popped his head round the door, ‘That’s her settled now, I’ve calmed her down. Shall we go through to the kitchen? Dinner is ready.’

‘Perhaps I should go,’ said Ann, still hoping to leave. She did not trust herself spending the evening in Finley’s company and this was a perfect excuse.

‘No, she’s fine now. She’s had a pill, so no need worry about it,’ said Padraig. ‘If she starts all that havering again, Scott will take her back to the hospital. You don’t have to leave.’

Ann smiled trying to hide her nerves. She could not let anyone suspect her feelings for Finley, and now there was Seonag and her mad ranting. Boy, this is going to be an uncomfortable evening.

Padraig had seated Ann between Finley and Seonag, with Scott, Elaine and Padraig sitting across from them.

‘So how was your holiday?’ asked Ann glancing at both Elaine and Finley.

‘Wonderful, it was perfect in every way. The weather was great, the hotel, everything, wasn’t it, Fin? It was like a second honeymoon.’ Elaine stretched her arm across the table to take her husband’s hand.

Ann was thankful that jealousy did not literally turn you green or she would look like the Jolly Green Giant at that moment.

‘The place was stunning, and we had an amazing view across the Mediterranean from our balcony. Every night, at sunset, we would walk along the beach with Gracie in the sling.’

Finley smiled at his wife. It was obvious to Ann they were in love; there was no denying it. She was hoping there would be cracks in their marriage. It was wrong and selfish of her, but Swain had been her husband first, and no matter how much he loved Elaine, she was sure Swain had loved Eleanora more, much more.

Dinner was a traditional roast consisting of beef, potatoes and seasonal vegetables, with thick, dark gravy on the side. Padraig placed all the dishes in the centre while he carved the roast.

‘Wow Dad, this is great, a Sunday roast on a Saturday. I love it,’ Finley joked getting a few sniggers from around the table.

Once the roast was carved, Finley said grace, thanking god for the food they were about to eat.

‘And we also give thanks to the bull for your life you gave so we can be nourished. Amen,’ Ann slotted in, before anyone could pile their plates with food. It was how Tunkeeta prayed, showing respect to the dead animal, it having made the ultimate sacrifice for their benefit.

Finley approved; he patted her hand and smiled at her. She only managed to glance at him for the briefest of moments as his touch made her heart beat faster, and she had to concentrate on her breathing, steadying it, so no one would notice the effect he was having on her.

‘Pass the carrots please, Finley.’

As Finley lifted the dish with his left hand, Ann noticed a familiar scar on his hand. It was identical to the scar Swain had on his hand. The scar a wild dog had given him as a child, but why did Finley have it? She had to ask. ’What happened to your hand?’She nodded at the scar.

Finley looked at his hand. ‘Oh that,’ he laughed. ‘Nothing, it’s just a birthmark. I was born with it, but it looks pretty bad, eh? It’s like I’ve stuck my hand in a shark’s mouth or something. Elaine has some good ones too.’

Elaine rolled up her sleeves. ‘Mine are on my wrists. They are called strawberry marks. They are common. Lots of people have them.’

Ann stared at the bands of red that almost circled both her wrists, redder in some areas than others. They were odd looking.

‘So Annaldra, tell us about you?’ said Elaine.

‘Well, she is getting on rather well with Gillan,’ said Scott jeering the name.

Finley turned to stare at Ann. ‘What, Donald Gillan?’

He does not seem happy. Donald did not seem popular with the Ranald brothers.

‘We are getting on fine Scott, we went for a lovely walk to the Clementina Stones today,’ replied Ann in a calm tone.

‘I told you he’d forgive you, didn’t I?’ said Padraig with a knowing nod.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ interrupted Elaine who was frowning at Scott. ‘I meant what about your life, your life after you were adopted?’

‘Well, the couple who adopted me were great, but… Well they have both died.’ Ann’s statement instantly changed the happy mood at the table to that of a funeral.

Finley placed his hand over hers, his touch making her heart race again. ‘I’m really sorry to hear that, if there’s anything I can do to help, please ask,’ he offered.

Ann suspected this offer was in his capacity as a minister. He must talk to the bereaved all the time as part of his job.

‘It is fine. I am okay now, really I am. My dad died over a year ago and my mum, well she died a couple of months ago, but it was more of a blessing, really. She had cancer and suffered a lot.’

Everyone still looked solemn. ‘Anyway we lived in Greenland most of my life,’ said Ann cheerfully, hoping to lift the mood.

‘Greenland, wow that would be different,’ said Elaine.

’Doh, not if you lived there,’ said Scott, but everyone ignored him.

The conversation for the next half hour was about Ann’s life in Greenland. She told them about her dad’s job as a marine biologist, about where she lived and about her friends Norlu and Tunkeeta. She was not sure at first whether she should mention Tunkeeta was a shaman; with Finley being a Christian minister he might not understand; but when she did, he seemed genuinely interested.

‘It’s my birthday in three weeks and I am having a party. Will you still be here, Annaldra? I would like you to come if you are,’ asked Elaine over dessert.

‘I am not sure,’ she lied not wanting to commit to another evening in Finley’s company.

‘What are your plans?’ Finley asked.

‘I don’t have any. I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘Not thought about it, surely you have plans?’ said Elaine.

Ann felt uncomfortable as she realised she had not thought about her future, even before the events of the last week. She had never imagined her life beyond Maidenboat; even when she was a little girl coming here was all she had wanted to do. Deep down she must always have known, without realising it, that this place would be her destiny, but she could not tell the Ranalds that.

‘I’ve been so busy caring for Mum. That took up my time, and for a long time I hoped she would recover, but after she died, I felt lost. That’s when I decided to return here. I always wanted to trace my roots, and I have been so lucky finding everyone. I want to stay here for a while, but I’m not sure how long though,’ said Ann knowing, full well, she planned to stay until three days after the next full moon at least. Then her intention had been to return to the Otherworld to be with her parents, but now she did not know what she wanted… now she had found Swain. If being with him properly was an option, without question, she would choose him over her parents. However, just being close to him might be enough to keep her in Maidenboat, even if they were not together.

‘We would love you to stay until you decide what you want to do. Wouldn’t we, boys?’ said Padraig. They both nodded as they chewed.

Ann smiled. ‘Thank you.’

After dinner, they retired to the living room. The rest of the evening was pleasant with everyone engaging in light-hearted chat. Ann was getting on with everyone, apart from Scott. He was constantly gawping at her and whenever they spoke she was sure he was flirting with her. It made her uncomfortable, especially since Padraig had mentioned he had a girlfriend; something Scott himself never divulged. There was something about him she disliked. It was not that he was overly confident, arrogant and had an ego the size of the moon; it was something else; something she could not quite put her finger on.

She managed to avoid Finley most of the evening, choosing to spend it chatting to Seonag and occasionally Elaine as they sat closest to her. However, whenever she glanced across the room at him, he was staring at her. Not in the unsettling way Scott was. Finley’s stare was intense, he looked serious, but he guarded his thoughts as she could not read his expression, so she would simply smile at him and he would smile back before they both resumed chatting to their respective company.

Padraig was right. Seonag could sometimes appear normal, showing no sign whatsoever of her mental health issues. Her only obvious disability was her motionless right hand, crooked and bent inwards like a claw that rested on her lap. She talked to Ann about when she and her mother had stayed with them. It was clear how fond of them she had been. She had obviously been a salt of the earth type woman in her day. Ann really liked her. She had a warmth about her that put her at ease.

Surprisingly, the evening ended faster than she expected. Seonag and Scott were the first to leave. Scott had to get his mum back to the hospital before ten, and it was a half hour drive to the town. Standing at the front door, everyone gave Seonag a goodnight kiss and hug.

‘No, it’s Bob Dalrimpile, no, no, no, no!’ fretted Seonag as she stepped outside into the night.

‘Where?’ asked Finley. There was no one around; the place being deserted except for a lean, black cat sitting across the road grooming itself, its green eyes fixed on them as its head circled rhythmically cleaning its hind leg, looking completely unperturbed.

‘Over there, I can see his wraith. It is over there,’ said Seonag pointing across the street, her raised arm shaking.

No one could see him except Seonag, but everyone was all too aware what this could mean.

‘There’s nobody there, Mum. It’s your imagination,’ said Finley helping his mother into the car.

As they drove off, it was obvious that Seonag was still upset, leaving everyone waving from the doorway feeling somewhat uneasy.

Back inside Padraig tried to dismiss it. ‘Come now, it’s all nonsense. She’s just been lucky so far, there’s always a first time to be wrong.’

‘Who’s Bob Dalrimpile?’ asked Ann.

‘He is the village postmaster, but he’s young… only in his mid-thirties. He is married with a young family. He is fit and healthy so it’s extremely unlikely,’ said Finley trying to sound convincing, but Ann could detect doubt in his tone. Elaine had said Seonag had correctly predicted over ten deaths since she acquired the gift, or as she called it ‘the curse’, and all had happened, making it difficult to dismiss it as mere chance.

It was a still, starry night, crisp and clear. The bite in the autumn air made Ann hug her coat tightly round herself as she walked the short distance back to the hotel. Even though the evening had ended strangely, only thoughts of Finley and Swain occupied her mind, and try as she might, she could not think of them as two separate people.

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