Page 31 of On The Edge

“Oh I don’t know -” Cat started to protest, unsure of what to do. Every horror film she had ever seen started like this.

“Great, I’m not sure how long I can carry her!” Johnny rejoiced, and Cat kept grumpily quiet whilst they edged towards the small dwelling.

They descended the hill and arrived at the house in no time. The man grunted to Johnny to make his way to the living room and lay the invalid on the couch. They hobbled through to the back of the house, and gasped at the giant window in front of the couch, looking out onto a deserted white beach, and the moody Atlantic sea. The house couldn’t have been in a more spectacular spot, its windows positioned perfectly to create an immersion in the landscape circling around.

“Wow...” Johnny gaped, quickly running to the couch before he collapsed under the weight of his friend.

“Ow!” Cat cried as her foot banged the corner of the couch.

“I’ll never lift a weight as beautiful as you again, Catherine...” Johnny gave her a dry smirk, and massaged his biceps, gazing out of the window.

“Hey!” was all Cat could say, feeling huffy after Johnny had made such a fuss. She knew she really didn’t weigh that much, but made a note to herself that if she did see a gym in Orkney, perhaps joining it might be worth consideration.

The old man came in wearing a ripped red jumper and carrying a bag. Cat was still somewhat wary, and tried to move, but couldn’t for the searing pain that persisted.

“It’s peas.” He held up the bag. “For the ankle?”

He placed the frozen bag of peas on Cat’s ankle and stuffed two pillows underneath, propping up her leg.

“Thank so much for you help, sir,” Johnny offered in a formal tone.

“Billy.” The man removed Cat’s shoe and sock, which rendered Cat speechless, unaccustomed to having a stranger touch her bare skin. She felt like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel having been rescued by a handsome man, but instead of the dashing love interest tenderly caressing her leg, it was an old, brusque villager. He tutted, eyeing her ankle. “Looks like a bad sprain, but it should be better tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cat gasped, “but I have work tonight!” She felt like a wounded animal, and hated being at the mercy of others.

“It’s better you stay the night,” the man announced, with some authority. “If we put you in a car, that won't do - you need to keep this ankle upright, and there’s the ferry too, getting on and off that wouldn’t be too comfortable, lass.”

“Oh dear,” Cat muttered.

“Just call Monique and tell her what’s happened - they can’t expect you to work on a sprained ankle,” Johnny said, making himself comfortable on a soft chair beside her.

“Give me my phone,” Cat extended her hand, and waited for Johnny to root around her backpack before giving her the device. “Damn, as I thought, no reception!” Cat looked over to Johnny concerned. “Oh dear, I need to let Monique know!” She bit her lip hating the idea of letting people down.

“Monique? From the pub?” Billy asked.

“Yes, I work there”.

Billy got up and went to another room, then a few minutes later re-emerged with the phone at his ear. “Hi Monique, it’s Billy here from Hoy. Are you well? I have someone here who wishes to speak with you.” Billy held out the land-phone for Cat who took it gratefully. “I’ll be putting the tea on then,” Billy said to Johnny with a smile.

“Aw! I love him!” Johnny whispered to Cat as their host left the room. They had all enjoyed a meal cooked by Billy; his specialty spaghetti bolognese was a hit, with both guests accepting second helpings. The day passed into early evening, the rain had stopped, and bright pink skies outside shed their vibrant colours through the window before them. Cat lay on the couch with her foot still raised, a glass of wine in her hand, feeling blissfully content and relaxed. After her initial reservations, she had warmed to the gruff Billy greatly. The old man had told them over dinner that he was a retired fisherman who had owned his own boat at one stage and did very well. He was able to put his money into his home, for the benefit of himself and his wife.

Billy lit the fire in the large living room area and brought out a bottle of bourbon, placing down glass tumblers on the coffee table in front of them all. He poured the dark liquid into the glasses and handed them out. “I hope you like Bourbon, I can’t drink whisky.” He gestured towards the bottle and took a sip.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing, a Scotsman not liking whisky!” Johnny exclaimed in mock outrage.

Billy gave a curt chuckle. “I’m a terrible excuse for a Scotsman. But when you try bourbon first it’s hard to go back. I drank it when I worked on a boat off the coast of Maine”.

Cat drank in his words as well as the bourbon.

“I did a spell out there, and loved it. But home called me back after a while. It’s not the most happening place, or the best weather. But I’m glad I came back when I did; I think it would’ve been harder to leave if I had stayed longer. And thank god I did, as I met Effie when I came back.” He nodded confidently. “Meant to be, we were.” He took a sip again. “Enough of me talking your ears off. Tell me about you two. Have you been together long?” Cat and Johnny gazed at each other for a moment then burst out laughing.

“No, we’re not together!” they both protested quickly.

“We’re just friends, we’ve known each other forever!” Cat insisted, trying not to move her raised ankle through laughing.

“You clearly get on well!” Billy seemed almost put out to have misjudged the situation.

“We do get on, really well!” Johnny smiled at Cat, then took a breath. “I’m actually married. His name is Mark.” Johnny still felt occasionally unsure about telling some people that he was gay, but there was no denying it here. Cat saw a softening in Johnny's eyes as he spoke the words, and hoped it was reflective of a desire to call his husband, and talk things through.