Free Heather Song by Michael Phillips Page B

some of our contingent leases. We’re having lunch together at Baxters. How about tomorrow?”
    “Isn’t a storm coming in from Shetland tonight?”
    “Actually, I think you’re right. Then go yourself and enjoy the sun while you can. And give Ranald my best.”
    Alicia came in to clear up the breakfast things a little while later.
    “Alicia,” I said, “how would you like to take a walk up the Bin with me later?”
    She turned with the tray in her hands. “Today?” she said.
    “Yes, in a few hours…when it warms up. I’m going to visit Ranald Bain—why don’t you come with me?”
    “You’re going to the Bain croft,” she said with a strange look on her face. “Alone?”
    “Yes, of course!” I laughed. “What do you mean, alone?”
    “I knew that you and the duke went to see him occasionally, but I…that is, I thought that was because the duke had business with him. I didn’t dream you would go by yourself.”
    “What are you talking about?” I laughed again. “I’ve visited him a dozen times. He was one of my first friends here.”
    “But don’t you know what they say?”
    “What—you mean how the children are afraid of him? Of course I know about it. But that’s all nonsense.”
    “It’s not just children,” said Alicia slowly. “And it’s not all nonsense.”
    Her tone made me shiver. A weird sense of foreboding swept through me like a cloud had briefly passed overhead.
    “What do you mean, Alicia? You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
    “I don’t…No, not really, I mean…of course not,” she answered. But her tone and fumbling were hardly convincing.
    “Then come with me. We’ll have a good time. If you don’t want to visit Ranald, we’ll just have a walk up the Bin.”
    She agreed, though reluctantly. We packed a light lunch and set off between eleven and noon. By then I had managed to coax Alicia mostly back out from under the spell that had come over her so suddenly. It was a fabulous day, warm and bright, fragrant and with just the lightest breeze to keep the air interesting and to prevent it from being sultry. We talked freely as we went, more than we had since she had helped me get ready for the wedding. I told her about Canada and my childhood and about my hippie parents, and even some about my first marriage, which I’d not spoken about to anyone locally except a mention or two to Alasdair and Iain and Ranald.
    As we set out, since it had been my idea, I assumed I was leading the way. But as we went it gradually became obvious that I was following her . She left the path I always took to the Bain croft and struck through the woods, veering a little farther south than my usual route. A few minutes later I found that we were indeed on a trail, though I hadn’t noticed when it had become one. Obviously, I realized, Alicia had grown up here and probably knew every path as well as she did her own backyard.
    Most of the way took us through light woods blanketed with mossy undergrowth. At last we met the Bin trail coming from the south and began climbing the final steep slope, and I saw the trail of my usual path joining us.
    We ate lunch at the summit. It was clear and beautiful as far as the eye could see. Alicia pointed out landmarks I hadn’t known from previous visits.
    Suddenly a low roar sounded in the distance.
    “What is that?!” I asked. “I hear it all the time. At first I thought it was thunder, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
    “It’s the RAF airfield at Lossiemouth…just there,” said Alicia, pointing west along the coast. “It’s probably a fighter jet taking off. Yes, look—there it is!”
    About thirty miles away now, we saw a tiny speck banking almost straight up from the ground. Another roar sounded as a second jet took off. In seconds it had joined the first and was out of sight.
    Peaceful silence again came to the top of the Bin. But not for long.
    “Look, here they come,” said Alicia, pointing again.
    Out over the water