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.There was a flurry of activity below, as cars were driven off and passengers disembarked.Will paid little attention.He had more questions to ask Rosa and was determined to voice them all while she was in a voluble mood.“You said something about Jacob learning to be a man—”“Did I?” she said, feigning distraction.“But he was already a man.You said so.”“I said he wasn’t a child.That’s not the same thing.He had to learn the way men are in the world, as I had to learn the ways of women.None of it came naturally to us.Well.Perhaps some of it.I do remember thinking one day how I loved to hold babies in my arms, how I loved softness and lullabies.And Steep didn’t.”“What did Steep love?”“Me,” she said, with a sly smile.“At least,” the smile went,“I imagined he did, and that was enough.It is sometimes.Women understand that; men don’t.Men need things certain.All certain and fixed.Lists and maps and history.All so that they know where they are, where they belong.Women are different.We need less.I could have been quite happy to have children with Steep.Watch them grow, and if they died, have more.But they always perished, almost as soon as they were born.He’d take them away, to save me the pain of seeing them, which showed he felt something for me, didn’t it?”“I suppose so.”“I named them all, even though they only lived for a few minutes—”“And you remember all the names?”“Oh yes,” she said, turning her face from him to hide her feeling, “every one.”By now the Claymore was ready for departure.The mooring ropes were cast off, the engines took on a livelier rhythm, and the last stage of the voyage was underway.Only when they were some distance from the island did Rosa finally look around at Will, who was sitting down, lighting up a cigarette, to say, “I want you to understand something about Jacob.He wasn’t bar-baric all his life.At the beginning, yes, he was a fiend, he really was.But what did he have for inspiration? You ask most men what it is that makes them men and it won’t be a very pretty list.But I mellowed him over the years—”“He drove entire species out of existence, Rosa—”“They were only animals.What did it matter? He had such fine thoughts in his head, such godly thoughts.Anyway, it’s there in the Bible.We’ve got dominion over the birds of the air—”“And the beasts of the field.Yeah, I know.So he had all these fine thoughts.”“And he loved to give me pleasure.He had his troubled times, of course, but there was always room for music and dancing.And the circus.I loved the circus.But he lost his sense of humor, after a time.He lost his courtesies.And then he began to lose me.We were still traveling together, and there’d be times when things were almost like the old days, but the feelings between us were slipping away.In fact the night we met you we were planning to go our separate ways.That’s why he went looking for company.And found you.If he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t be where we are now, any of us.It’s all connected in the end, isn’t it? You think it’s not, but it is.” She returned her gaze to the water.“I’d better go and find Frannie,” Will said.“We’ll be arriving soon.”Rosa didn’t reply.Leaving her at the railing, Will wandered the length of the deck and found Frannie sitting on the starboard side, sipping a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette.“I didn’t know you smoked.”“I don’t,” she said.“But I needed it.Want some coffee? The wind’s chilly.” He took the plastic cup and drank.“I tried to buy a map,” she said, “but the ship store’s closed.”“We’ll get one on the island,” Will said.“Speaking of which,.” He got to his feet and went to the railing.Their destination was in view.A line of land as unpromising as Coll, the waves breaking against its rocky shores.Frannie rose to stand beside him and together they watched as the island approached, the Claymore’s engines slowing so that the vessel might be safely navigated through the shallow waters.“It doesn’t look very hospitable, does it?” Frannie remarked.It was certainly Spartan at this distance, the sea surging around dark spits of rock that rose to bleak headlands.But then the wind veered and carried the scent of flowers off the land, their honey fragrance mingled with the sharp scents of salt and kelp, and Frannie murmured, “Oh Lord,” in appreciation.The Claymore’s approach had become a tentative crawl now, as the vessel made its cautious way to the jetty.And as it did so the charms of the island steadily became more apparent.The waters through which the vessel plowed were no longer dark and deep, but as turquoise as any Caribbean bay, and swooned upon beaches of silver-white sand.There were a few cattle at the tide’s edge, apparently grazing on seaweed, but the beaches were otherwise deserted.So too were the grassy dunes that rose from them, rolling away to meet the lush meadows of the island’s interior.This was where the scent of vetch and sea-thrift and crim-son clover originated: expanses of fertile pasture dotted here and there with modest houses, whitewashed and brightly roofed.“I take it all back,” Frannie said.“It’s beautiful.” The village of Scarinish, which was little more than a couple rows of houses, was now in view.There was more activity on its pier than there’d been at Coil: fully twenty people waiting for the Claymore to dock, along with a lorry loaded with goods and a tractor with a cattle pen in tow.“I should probably go and fetch Rosa,” Will said.“Give me the car keys,” Frannie said.“I’ll meet you downstairs.”Will headed back to the bow, where he found Rosa at the railing still, studying the scene ahead.“Do you recognize anything?” he asked her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]