The Lewis Man: AN INGENIOUS CRIME THRILLER ABOUT MEMORY AND MURDER (LEWIS TRILOGY 2) (The Lewis Trilogy)

FORTY

I don’t know what’s going on any more. My ears are still ringing and I can hardly hear a thing. Something terrible happened, I know that. They’ve sat me down here in the kitchen, out of the way. There’s all sorts of people through there in the next room, and that damn dog just never stops barking.

There are blue lights and orange lights flashing out there in the dark. I heard a helicopter earlier. I’ve never seen so many policemen in my life. And that man who came to talk to me at Solas. I only remember him because of his widow’s peak. Made me think of a boy at The Dean.

I wonder what the minister’s doing here. I saw him earlier. He looked ill, not a well man. I feel sorry for him. Hasn’t the gumption of his father. A fine, God-fearing man he was. Damned if I can remember his name, though.

That woman’s coming into the kitchen now. I know I know her from somewhere. Just can’t think where. Something about her makes me think of Ceit. Can’t quite think what.

She pulls up a chair and sits down opposite me, leaning forward to take both of my hands in hers. I like her touch. She has fine, soft hands, and such lovely dark eyes looking into mine.

‘Do you remember the Sacred Heart, Johnny?’ she says. But I don’t know what she means. ‘They took you and Peter there after that night you both got trapped at the cliffs. You broke your arm, remember? And Peter had pneumonia.’

‘There were nuns,’ I say. Strange, but I can see them in that yellow half-light of the ward. Black skirts, white coifs.

She smiles at me and squeezes my hand. ‘That’s right. It’s a care home now, Johnny. I’m going to ask Marsaili if she’ll let you stay there. And I’ll come and see you every day, and bring you back here to the house for lunch. And we can go for walks on Charlie’s beach, and talk about The Dean, and the people we knew here on the island.’ She has such beautiful eyes, smiling at me like that. ‘Would you like that, Johnny? Would you?’

I squeeze her hands right back, returning her smile, and remember that night I saw her crying on the roof of The Dean.

‘I would,’ I say.