Where Old Ghosts Meet - Kate Evans [96]
Before getting into the car she glanced back again. The door to the presbytery was already closed.
25
It lifted Nora’s spirits to see Pat, his broad stocky frame and smiling face waiting for her aboard his boat at the wharf. She knew him now to be a kind and considerate man who was protective of his elderly aunt and she liked that.
“Careful now, let me have your hand.” The boat lurched as she stepped on board.
She felt a surge of excitement. Berry Island was now deeply entrenched in her imagination. She had a strange longing to see the place, to smell the grass, to walk the paths that she had travelled with Peg as she told her story, but most of all she wanted to go from room to room in the house and put it all into perspective. This was where she felt it would finally come together for her.
“Are you good on the water?” He eyed her up and down as if somehow the set of her body would tell him what he needed to know.
“Yes, fine, I think, so long as it’s not too rough.”
“She’s lookin’ best kind for today. Keep an eye where you’re headed and you’ll be fine.”
Nora looked about her as he busied himself with the ropes. It was a smallish craft with a cabin up front to house the wheel and engine, homemade by the looks of the finish.
“She’s sturdy enough,” he said, as if he had sensed her uncertainty.
She nodded.
The engine leaped to life, the water churning noisily, sending a flock of seagulls into sudden and angry departure. The boat pulled away and headed out towards the black tip of the headland. The wind tugged at her hair and filled her thin blouse with a blustery chill. She remembered how cold the water had been on her feet and shivered. The boat surged forward as he shifted gear.
“There’s a jacket there. You’ll be needin’ that when we get beyond the headland.”
She reached eagerly for the red plaid jacket on the hook behind her. It was way too big and the sleeves hung below her hands but it was cozy and warm and kept out the biting wind. She pulled the collar up and wrapped the jacket snugly around her body. The boat sped forward, pitching and dipping on the waves as it moved into top gear. She grabbed the rail and braced herself. She had never been on the open sea in a small craft before and it was a little frightening. She had a fleeting image of her grandfather and his first foray into the world of fishing on the waters of the cold North Atlantic. She felt his misery: no suitable clothing, raw and inexperienced, the men likely having a bit of sport at his expense, delighted to show this townie how a real man makes a living. She gathered up her shoulders protectively, burying her nose in the pocket of warmth that rose from inside the jacket. She could smell the heavy odour of work.
Her eyes met Pat’s and he flicked his head backward, a question. Was everything all right?
She nodded.
“You’ve had a fine time with Aunt Peg.” His voice boomed above the noise of the engine. “She’s taken quite the liking to you.”
Nora smiled. “She’s a wonderful woman.”
“You’ll be writing to her then from time to time?”
“Yes, I’ll be writing to her and I’ll be back. For a short visit,” she added, mocking him.
“Maybe find yourself a good Newfoundlander? I have a young fella to St. John’s, not married, finest kind. Be perfect for you.”
Nora laughed. Now there was a thought. The Molloys settling down in Newfoundland again, and with the same crew!
“Now wouldn’t that be somethin’?” He was reading her mind.
“Pat, you know she has a lot of books and stamps belonging to Matt.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. Brought them all from the island, didn’t I? Bloody ridiculous, I thought at the time. But you know now, there’s no arguing with Aunt Peg.”
“They are valuable. And she insists that I have them.”
“That’s what he wanted, I believe.”
“So she says.”
“Then that’s it. Got nothin’ to do with me, so long as you don’t want them packed up again and sent to Montreal. I had enough of that.”
“No, I’ll arrange that.”
“I believe she loved him,” he said suddenly out