always warm, and that had become an important consideration in their lives.
The meal she had planned was only simple: omelettes made from the eggs she had gathered that afternoon, homemade bread, and some scones she had just placed in the oven. Magnus walked in as she was beating the eggs. His walk had brought the colour to a face which had grown unnaturally pale, and Catriona was pleased to see that he greeted their visitor with enthusiasm. As she had hoped he would, Mac introduced the subject of the proposed oil terminal, and as Catriona moved deftly about the old-fashioned kitchen the two men discussed the possible outcome if the geologists’ report was favourable.
Both men praised her cooking, but Catriona couldn’t help noticing that Magnus merely toyed with his food, pushing the omelette around his plate. Mac, who had been a widower for very many years, cleaned his plate appreciatively.
“Are you going to give the go-ahead, then?” he asked Magnus as Catriona poured their tea.
“I don’t see that we have much option, and at least at this stage they’re only investigating.”
“Well, if you write the letter, I’ll post it for you in Lerwick,” Mac offered, ignoring Catriona’s faint frown. “No point in letting the grass grow under your feet if you’ve made up your minds, is there now?” he commented when Magnus hesitated.
“You think they’d leave it over until spring now,” Catriona commented. “The daylight is so short at this time of the year, always supposing the weather is good enough to allow them to get here each day.”
Mac frowned.
“But surely they’ll be staying here on Falla?”
Catriona splashed hot tea on the table and mopped it up with hands that shook. This was something she had never thought of, but she as from Magnus’s face that he had.
“Come on Catriona,” Mac coaxed. “You can’t honestly expect them to travel here each day? Where’s your common sense?”
“They’ll have to won’t they?” she said curtly. “Unless some of the islanders put them up.”
She cleared away their plates while the men drank their tea, and then offered to drive Mac down to the harbour when he insisted that he ought to leave. Magnus was listening to the radio and shook his head when Catriona invited him to go with them.
“He’s like a hermit,” she complained as Mac helped her into the Land Rover. “I tried to persuade him to go to Lerwick with me, but he wouldn’t.”
But he had written a letter agreeing to allow the geologists to examine the voe, and it was now in Mac’s shabby raincoat pocket. There were no lights to guide her along the narrow unmade road, but Catriona did not need them.
“Well, if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, have you thought about bringing the mountain to him?” Mac questioned, making her eye him queryingly. “You said Magnus was like a hermit,” he explained patiently. “And it isn’t good for him to shut himself away like this, Cat. He’s a healthy male of twenty-nine and he needs other human company. If he won’t seek out that company then you’ll have to bring it to him.”
“By doing what?” Catriona asked sarcastically. “Capturing it wholesale?”
“No need to go to such extremes,” Mac chuckled, ignoring her angry stare. “Not when you’ve got a ready-made solution right on your doorstep. Think, Cat,” he urged when she stared at him. “Those geologists are going to need a case, somewhere to sleep and eat, and you’ve got all those empty bedrooms….”
The Land Rover swerved abruptly and came to a halt.
“No way,” Catriona announced determinedly.
Very gently Mac removed her hands from the steering wheel and held them in his own.
“Now it isn’t very often that I talk to you like a Dutch uncle, but on this occasion I’m going to have to. What happened to Magnus was tragic, but it was an accident, Cat, no more and no less.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Catriona protested. “United Oil knew how explosive the situation was; they could have ordered their people to leave while it was still safe, instead of which they kept them there, knowing they were in danger.”
“You’re not being rational,” Mac protested. “The Middle East has always been explosive, and companies are responsible to shareholders, you know, they can’t do just as they please. Magnus himself has no animosity. It’s getting out of all proportion, Cat. I know you’re bitter, and I can understand why. Don’t you think it doesn’t break me up inside too when I see Magnus and remember how he was? But assisting him to hide from the world isn’t going to help him in the long run. He’s ready to start on the road to recovery, I’m sure of it. Okay, he might never be able to go back to his old job, but the mere fact that he hasn’t refused to have these men on Falla must tell you something.”
“It tells me that he puts everyone else before himself,” Catriona protested stubbornly, tears suddenly filming her eyes as she laid her head on Mac’s shoulder.
“Oh, Mac, when he said they could come, I was so surprised, so full of hope, but the moment I mentioned the geologists he retreated again. He couldn’t stand having them in the house—I just know it!”
“And I think you’re underestimating him, Cat. It won’t do any harm to give it a try, and it could do a hell of a lot of good. Just listening to them talk might help break through the barriers.”
“He’ll never agree to it.”
“Then don’t tell him,” Mac retorted with a promptness that told Catriona that he had been prepared for her question. “Simply present him with a fait accompli. I wouldn’t advise it, if I didn’t think it was in his best interests, Cat,” he told her soberly, and Catriona knew that he meant it. He wasn’t just their doctor, he was also a close and caring friend, and yet having these people in the house wasn’t just totally opposed to her own personal views, it was also tantamount to stabbing her brother in the back with a very sharp knife.
“Fiona’s coming to stay with me over Christmas,” Mac added casually. “She’s a wee bit hurt that Magnus continues to ignore her letters.”
Fiona MacDonald was Mac’s niece, a nurse in a large Edinburgh hospital with a sensible outlook on life, and Catriona liked her. During their teens Fiona and Magnus had been very close and had kept in contact right up until the time of Magnus’s accident, since when he had refused point-blank to write to her. “I don’t want her pity,” was all he had said in response to Catriona’s query. “Let her keep that for her patients.”
Now a sudden thought struck her.
“Mac, were Fiona and Magnus ever romantically involved?” she asked curiously.
Mac shook his head.
“I don’t know, my dear, but if they were don’t you think that’s their business? The trouble with those two is that they’re both givers, and givers seldom have the ability to take what they want from life.”
Unlike her nocturnal room-mate, Catriona thought suddenly, dismayed that she should have thought of him. But having done so, she could not deny that he was most definitely not a “giver”. No, he was quite plainly a man who took what he wanted from life.
When she had seen Mac safely on board the yaol, she turned back to the Land Rover, but instead of driving straight home she stopped by the ancient keep of the old castle and climbed out. The tower had been a favourite haunt of her childhood. The weathered walls were still high enough to offer some shelter from the wind and often she had lain within their protective shelter, peering out to sea through the wind-tossed flowers. It was here that she had come when they brought the news about her parents and here that Magnus had found her, comforting her without a word being spoken.
Was Mac wrong when he claimed that the geologists’ presence in their home might break through Magnus’s prison walls? She knew she could not afford to take the chance