Free The Book of Secrets by Fiona Kidman Page B

difficult to the point of impossibility. Or that was how it appeared to her.
    Although when she had first come to Ullapool Mary had demonstrated a clear sharp brain if called upon to do so, lately it appeared that this required too much effort. More and more often if there were details about the housekeeping which involved McLeod, or extra bills to be paid, she would ask Isabella to tell him. McLeod would receive the information in silence, but he would invariably act upon it.
    One morning as she made her way down Shore Street, Isabella realised with sudden shocked clarity that Mary would really like her to take over responsibility for McLeod. That she should be as a wife was beyond consideration, yet the day-to-day running of their lives, and perhaps even the matter of intellectual transaction, was something she appeared to be suggesting could best be attended to by Isabella.
    ‘It will not be like that,’ said Isabella with a grim force that made her almost speak aloud. ‘She will not take me over and hand me to him on a plate.’
    Besides there were things Mary did not know of her and McLeod. The meeting on the moor would seem to have sealed their relationship into a cool and distant mould which McLeod, for his part, would be unlikely to alter. She wondered at times why he had accepted her presence so readily in the house at all, but considering its great convenience to himself, it would seem that he must be an opportunist as well as a dictator. It might even be that he had already mapped out her position as a retainer, growing older and more spinsterly before his eyes as the years passed; in that, he would achieve his ascendancy over her.

    ‘I have to get away from her,’ she said to her mother.
    ‘Away? Where would you go?’ Lately Mrs Ramsey had been enjoying a great deal of bad health. Isabella thought savagely as she plumped yet more pillows that her mother was almost in competition for her attention with Mary McLeod.
    ‘I could go to London,’ said Isabella, suddenly desperate to be away. ‘I could stay with Louise.’
    ‘Louise has plenty to do without looking after her unmarried sister-in-law,’ said Mrs Ramsey.
    ‘I could help Louise. You know I could. Besides, perhaps I could meet a husband of my own this time.’ Isabella hoped that her mother would not recognise her low cunning for what it was.
    ‘Oh dear, I think it may be too late for that,’ Mrs Ramsey tutted. ‘And besides, who would look after me? No, it is out of the question. And,’ as if reading Isabella’s mind, ‘I shall tell your father so, so please do not speak of it to him.’
    Mrs Ramsey was playing a hand which Isabella found unbeatable. It was clear that her father would not entertain the thought of her leaving him on his own with his wife if she was not well disposed to the idea.

    Sitting in the McLeod’s small front room that faced the sea, Dr Ross sipped his tea, his finger crooked, and between each sip he smiled delicately at Mary, oozing kindly concern as if she were about to be struck by illness.
    ‘Mr McLeod, I have a proposition for you.’
    ‘Oh aye, Dr Ross?’ McLeod tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and waited.
    ‘You might show a little interest.’
    ‘It is you that is putting the proposition, Dr Ross.’
    ‘You’re a prickly fellow to be sure. What does one do with him Mrs McLeod?’ Receiving no support from this quarter, he hurried on. ‘Mr McLeod, you have stirred up quite a following in the district. I know your heart’s very much in it, you’re a man of principle, sir, and I would not like to be seen to complain of such a man.’
    ‘Yet you do.’
    ‘I must confess it is not an easy position you place me in. But look, problems are there to be solved. It is part of your duty as a schoolmaster to attend my sermons. But I’m not strictly convinced that that is necessary on every occasion. Let us say, if you were to attend mine but once a month, put in an appearance if you like, then I