Free Unknown by Unknown Page A

about a mile out of the town. He had hardly said this when Melanie, realising they were on the Dunglevin road, suddenly flung her arms round Ben’s neck, nearly choking him. She was trembling with fear and her face was like parchment.
    ‘Hey, hey, little one, what’s wrong?’ Ben extricated himself with difficulty from Melanie’s clasp. ‘What’s frightened you?’ He gazed all around him. ‘Can you see what’s scared her, Rachel?’ he asked.
    ‘No. I can’t see anything at all.’ Rachel was puzzled. She couldn’t understand it. What could have struck such terror into the child?
    Once out of Ardenbeg the houses had thinned and on one side of the road, beyond a narrow stretch of marshland, lay the loch, while on the other rose the sheer side of the mountain. It was very strange.
    She drove on, with Ben making soothing noises to calm Melanie, until she came to the turning on to the lower coast road. Immediately, Melanie relaxed. She was still deathly pale, but her terror seemed to subside. Rachel frowned. What could strike such terror into the child at the thought of going to Dunglevin? It could only have been that that frightened her, because as soon as they turned off the Dunglevin road her fear had subsided. Surely the speech therapist wasn’t such a dragon!
    The road followed very roughly the shore of the loch, gradually degenerating into little more than a cart track through the undergrowth. Rachel was just beginning to wonder if in fact they had come too far or somehow missed the way when the track widened into a clearing and there was the island, Eilean Dorcha, less than a quarter of a mile away, dark green against the blue of the loch.
    They all got out of the car. There seemed to be a tiny natural harbour here and two or three boats were moored between the island and the mainland, which seemed to curve round in a promontory thick with trees and bushes, ending in a rocky tip on which the lighthouse stood. Taking the picnic basket and a rug they found their way through the undergrowth to the lighthouse. It was tiny, little more than fifteen feet high and quite derelict. Rachel kicked off her sandals and rolled up her jeans to her knees. Melanie watched her for a moment and then followed suit; Ben was already wearing shorts. Then for an hour or more the three of them clambered over the rocks, watching the fishes dart in the clear, deep water, exploring the rock pools and watching tiny crabs scuttle for cover. Rachel and Ben talked encouragingly to Melanie all the while and soon the colour returned to her cheeks. Once or twice the little girl’s face darkened with jealousy when Ben gave Rachel a helping hand over difficult rocks, but soon she forgot this in her absorption.
    They ate their picnic sitting on the rocks, Ben leaning his back against the rock on which Rachel was sitting, Melanie close beside him. He was very good with the little girl, Rachel observed; he talked to her all the time, but he never seemed to expect, indeed, he never encouraged her to talk back. Rachel couldn’t help wondering why her aunt was so antagonistic towards Ben.
    When they had finished eating Melanie went off by herself to explore the lighthouse; clearly she had come to realise that Rachel was no threat to her friendship with Ben. Rachel packed the basket with Ben looking ‘Do you like it in these parts, Rachel?’ he asked, idly tossing a stone into the water.
    ‘Very much.’ She paused in the act of packing the last item. ‘It’s all so quiet and peaceful.’
    ‘You’re looking very much better.’ Ben looked up at her from the rock on which he was sitting and the expression in his eyes made her blush. ‘I’m sorry about Rose’s accident, but I’m glad it’s given you an excuse to stay on here.’
    She stood up quickly. ‘Where’s Melanie? I’m not sure that it’s good for her to go off on her own. She could easily get lost and she can’t call us to let us know where she is.’ She spoke quickly to cover