Flora unbuckled the hamper and brought out a bottle of ginger beer. ‘Here you go, why don’t you two share this while you’re fishing? Or you can save it to have with your bread and dripping if you like.’
‘Are you off out for a picnic?’ Davy asked. ‘Can we come too?’
Drawing the boat alongside them, Alec laughed. ‘Sorry, lads, I could do without the extra competition. This outing is just for me and Miss Gordon.’
‘Is he your sweetheart then?’ Davy asked Flora, looking just a little bit crestfallen.
‘He’s a very old friend of mine,’ she replied with a smile.
‘And yes, I hope I am her sweetheart as well, because she’s certainly mine.’ Alec grinned. ‘In any case, I wouldn’t like to have to answer to Mrs Carmichael if that vegetable patch isn’t dug over by the time she gets back.’
Flora passed him the hamper, which he stowed against the transom before handing her into the boat. Pushing off from the jetty, they waved to the boys and then Alec steered out on to the loch, heading for the northern end of the island. They picked their way past the battleships at anchor in the bay. A refuelling tanker churned the oil-slicked surface of the water and the fumes rasped at the back of Flora’s throat, but once they reached the point of the island, the wind picked up a little and the air was fresh again with the smell of salt and seaweed. Flora pulled off her woollen tammy and let the breeze wash over her bare head, teasing tendrils free from her braid.
‘Oh, it feels so good to be back out here. If you don’t look back towards Aultbea, you can almost imagine there’s no war on at all, with the loch and the hills as wild and empty as they ever were.’
Silently, Alec pointed to the sky above, as an eagle launched itself from a small stand of trees on the island and soared away across the dancing waves, heading west. They watched it until it was swallowed by the hills towards Melvaig. ‘At least some things remain unchanged. But the war is coming closer now. Did you hear about the air raid on Scapa Flow two days ago? The Luftwaffe managed to sink the Norfolk. The Home Fleet is dispersing from there now – so Loch Ewe’s about to become even more crowded, I reckon.’
Flora nodded, then took his hand in hers. ‘Let’s not talk about the war today, please, Alec? Just for an hour or two, let’s pretend we’re as free as the wind and the sea.’
He smiled, entwining her fingers in his before raising them to his lips and kissing them. ‘Agreed. Today is a carefree day. And spring is on the way. Look there, the spruces are getting their new needles. I love how bright they are among the darkness of the pines.’
As the shoulder of the island hid the ships in the harbour at Aultbea from view, it really was possible to imagine that they were the only boat on the water that day and to forget, for a little while at least, the transformation that had been wrought upon the tiny lochside community. Each time the bows of the boat met a wave, wings of fine sea spray flew along the gunwales, making Flora feel she was soaring, joining the birds overhead in their flight.
Alec steered the boat towards the white sands of the beach at Firemore and pulled in alongside the rocks. In the shelter afforded by the headland, the water here was as calm as a hillside lochan, making it easy for Flora to scramble ashore. She balanced at the top of the boulders, reaching back so that Alec could hand her the hamper and, while he made the boat fast, she spread a plaid rug on the dry sand a little higher up the beach. Raising a hand to shield her eyes against the dazzle of the spring sunlight on the water, she smiled as Alec approached, his boots crunching on the black tangles of bladderwrack that festooned the bay. He threw himself down on the rug beside her and lay looking straight up into the sky above, which was the same colour as the delicate harebells that grew here and there along the roadside in summer.
‘We’re being watched.’ He pointed upwards and she lay back, too, to follow the lazy circles that the eagle drew as it spiralled ever higher, climbing on a thermal over the hills. Alec reached for a pair of binoculars that he’d tucked into the hamper alongside the sandwiches and ginger beer. He handed them across to her and she focused the sights, just able to make out the graceful, finger-like primary feathers at the end of each wing. She passed the binoculars back and Alec took his turn. After a few minutes, he sat up and scanned the hills on the far side of the loch.
‘That eagle’s not the only one watching us,’ he said with a grin. He pointed towards the shoulder of land above the eastern shore, where she could just make out the grey walls of a concrete hut, one of many that had sprung up around the loch in the past months. ‘That’s the signal station. I’d better be on my best behaviour, because your brother is keeping an eye on me.’ He handed the binoculars back to her.