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‘Maybe she really wasn’t judging, right? Just trying to help,’ I suggest.
‘No? Well, she got me banned from the pub. Though I might have got lairy…?’
‘So, what happened, to Ruthie and the baby?’ What will Gethin feel about this sibling now?
Don takes a deep breath. ‘This is why I don’t talk to nobody.’ Shakes his head at me.
‘What?’ I hold my hands up. No frigging idea.
‘You’re assuming I’ve left her to get on with having my wean.’ He jumps to his feet and turns to face me.
‘I’m just trying to understand, right?’ I say quietly.
‘Anything I do gets distorted, twisted. And you’re asking me to take on a long-lost son?’ He’s shouting now, his face shiny red.
I stay still. Lip buttoned.
‘Och, what’s the use?’ He slaps his thigh with his fist. ‘I’m away out of here as soon as I can now.’
‘And it’s still yourself you’ll have to live with,’ I call as he strides back across the beach – trailing boot prints in the wet sand.
I watch a group of thin-necked black and white birds swoop down to the pools left by the outgoing tide. What the heck do I do now? Can’t believe I came that close to the nub of Don’s story. Maybe I am judging him, right? Like I can judge Ken if I stop to think about it. But maybe Ken did the right thing by me? I had a decent childhood – would I have wanted it different? How does any of this affect how Don is with Gethin?
Big sighing breath as I look at the time on my phone. Half past six. I’ll need to get a move on to get back to Inverness by any reasonable time. I so want to find out how Gethin’s doing, but I’ve no signal here. I walk towards the path back up to the road.
The Harley’s tank glints as I approach the museum. Pat the seat as I look across at Don’s caravan.
‘Won’t be long,’ I whisper.
There’s movement behind the caravan curtains. I take a deep breath. Knock on the door.
He opens it immediately. Filling the little doorway.
‘Aye,’ he says, softly now. ‘I figured you’d be back.’
High Dependency – Gethin
Thick brown suffocating fog. I push through, reaching for the surface. Hear voices, gasp a breath, and sink again. The pressure of the fog increases as I thrash against it, sinking further. Then a hand stretches towards me, and I lunge to grab it, feel the pull upwards and the gulp of air.
‘Mum?’
Strip lights overhead hurting my eyes. Shut. Grip the hand.
‘Gethin? Are you awake?’ A sing-songy voice, unfamiliar. ‘Do you know where you are?’
I turn my head to the voice and moan with the sharp jolt of pain.
‘Take it slowly, it’s all right.’
I peer out as my brain rearranges itself. A young smooth hand on mine, sparkly silver ring. Not Mum.
Still the light hurting. Blue and green interlocking shapes on the curtain.
‘Am I in hospital?’
The hand moves as she steps back, all dainty in her nurse’s uniform. She smooths the bed, takes the clipboard from the end.
‘That’s right, you’ve had us worried the while. I just need to do my checks before you drift away again.’
