Death of a Gentle Lady

that’s just me. I like stories, and that stream-of-consciousness business bores the pants off me. I’ll lend it to you.’
    ‘Can’t be bothered. Well, I’m off.’
    Hamish hovered in the doorway wondering whether to dare ask her to look after the dog and cat, but then decided that if he was simply going to search around the moorland and the foothills, he could take them with him.
    The balmy weather had ceased, and Sutherland was gearing itself up for the long northern winter. Hamish hurried back to the police station, knowing he had better set off quickly – the sun went down at four in the afternoon.

    Once the animals were put in the Land Rover along with lunch packed for all of them, Hamish drove up into the hills and along heathery little-used tracks, stopping occasionally at outlying crofts to ask if they had seen any campers.
    He stopped for a picnic lunch. After his pets had been fed, he put them in the Land Rover and decided to roam across the moorland on foot before the light faded.
    But all was peaceful and quiet apart from the sad piping of the curlews. Soon the shadow of the mountains fell over the landscape. He returned to the Land Rover, got in, and stared out at the fading countryside. His ruse was not working. There had been no more attempts on his life.
    Back to Lochdubh, where a letter was lying on the doormat. He walked in, sat down, and opened it. It was from Elspeth. ‘This is just to say goodbye,’ she had written. ‘Let me know if anything happens. I’ve been called back but can come straight back up again if you’ve got any news. Elspeth.’
    He looked at it sadly. No ‘Love, Elspeth,’ not even ‘Best wishes, Elspeth.’
    Did he really want to marry her now? And why did he nurse that odd hankering for Priscilla? Why did he keep hoping that one day she would thaw out and become as passionate as the woman of his dreams?
    The kitchen door opened and the fisherman Archie walked in. ‘We was coming back this morning, Hamish,’ he said, ‘and I got a good look at thon folly from the sea. There’s a big chunk o’ the cliff has fallen and it’s perched there like a toy castle balancing on someone’s outstretched hand. It’s now only got the lip o’ the cliff to support it.’
    ‘I’ll phone up Andrew Gentle and warn him,’ said Hamish. ‘Sit down, Archie. Want some of that wine?’
    ‘Na. I don’t know how thae actors survive on that bitter stuff. I thocht yours had gone off but they had some at the rehearsal and it was like drinking acid. I’ll take a dram.’
    Hamish poured him a measure of whisky and then, after some hesitation, poured one for himself.
    ‘You know what puzzles me, Archie?’ said Hamish. ‘Everyone up here knows everyone else’s business. All I want to know is if some-one’s seen a tall strange woman about, and no one’s seen anything at all.’
    ‘Gamekeeper Geordie saw Priscilla and thon Irishman having a picnic,’ said Archie. ‘You chust going tae stand by and let that happen? They was up by the Beithe Burn.’
    ‘Archie, Priscilla can do what she likes.’

    When Archie had left, Hamish found Andrew Gentle’s card and phoned to warn him about the perilous condition of the castle.
    ‘There’s nothing I can do about it,’ said Andrew testily. ‘I am sure if the damn thing falls into the sea, the insurance company will put it down to an act of God. I’ll come up in the spring, hire an architect, and see if anything can be done.’
    It was only when he had rung off that Hamish realized he still had the key.
    He could not settle down for the evening. He felt restless. He wanted to banish Priscilla’s bright image from a corner of his brain. He decided to take a run down to Inverness. It was late-night shopping, and if he hurried he could be there in time. He needed some new casual clothes.
    He took Sonsie and Lugs with him. There were plenty of shops in Strathbane, the nearer town, but he wanted to get well away from Lochdubh.
    But by the time he had battled round the crowded shops and bought new shirts and trousers, he was longing to get back to the peace of home. He bought kebabs for himself, the dog, and the cat, and fed them in the quiet street by the river where he had parked before setting out for home.
    He decided to take the old way over the Struie Pass and whistled cheerfully as he zigzagged round the hairpin bends into Sutherland. He had just reached the famous viewpoint when the engine coughed and died. The petrol light