On the Edge of Darkness. Barbara Erskine

see the stone. It is nearly finished.’

      Adam sat up. ‘You mean he’s here too?’

      ‘No. Today he rides to visit my other uncle, my father’s brother …’ She worked out the relationship on her fingers. ‘Then he comes back from Abernethy in two, three days. And then I am staying here with Gemma until the snow comes. We can see each other all the time!’

      She leaned over him and kissed him on the lips again.

      Adam frowned. A shadow had drifted across the sun. ‘Not all the time, Brid.’ He raised himself onto one elbow. ‘You remember I am going to be a doctor? I am going away to university in October.’

      ‘To university? What is university?’ She sat up and scowled.

      ‘It’s a place you go to study. Like school, but more difficult.’ His voice rose with enthusiasm. ‘Like you do with your uncle.’

      ‘But I see you after you finish study. In the evening.’ Her eyes were very intense, holding his.

      He felt uncomfortable. ‘No, Brid. We can’t do that,’ he said gently. ‘I’m going to Edinburgh. It’s a long way from here. I shall be staying there.’

      ‘But you will come back? To see your father? Like I come back to see my mother and Gartnait.’

      He looked away. The sun reflecting on the water made him screw up his eyes against the glare. ‘Yes. I’ll come back.’

      He wondered if that was a lie. He never wanted to come back to the manse. Not if he could help it. But what if that meant he would never see Brid again? He looked back at her and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘We’ve plenty of time, Brid. I don’t go for weeks and weeks and weeks.’ It still seemed like forever. Taking her hand he pulled her sharply so she tumbled forward into his arms. ‘Let’s make the most of now, shall we?’ The future could take care of itself.

      They never got as far as the stone, that day or the next. Adam went back to the manse and collected his camping things. He knew Jeannie probably suspected that he would not be sleeping in his small tent alone, but she said nothing, giving him a huge bag of food to keep him going while he watched the birds. Loaded with tent and sleeping bag and groundsheet, a Primus stove, saucepan, food, bird book and binoculars, he could hardly walk as he set off once more towards the hill. The weight did not matter. Brid was waiting for him, and anyway they were not going far.

      They camped only a hundred yards from the falls. There, to his intense embarrassment, she gave him an intricately worked silver pendant on a chain, hanging it herself around his neck. ‘For you, A-dam. Forever.’

      ‘Brid! Men don’t wear things like this!’ He flinched uncomfortably as it nestled against his chest.

      She laughed. ‘Men in my world wear this with pride, A-dam. It is a love token.’ She pulled the edges of his collar across to hide it and kissed him firmly on the lips. Before very long he had forgotten it was there.

      Two evenings later, with the dark blue velvet of the sky sprinkled with pale stars, Gartnait found them.

      ‘How long have you been here?’ He looked furious.

      ‘Not long.’ Brid glared at him.

      ‘I look for you everywhere. Everywhere!’ he repeated. ‘Broichan is at our mother’s house. He is angry!’ The emphasis he placed on the last word spoke volumes.

      ‘I have a holiday.’ Brid looked mutinous.

      ‘Holiday?’ Gartnait repeated the word puzzled. Then without waiting for elucidation he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. ‘You have been here with A-dam?’ His face betrayed a succession of emotions: anger; fear; suspicion. ‘Brid, you have stayed here? Here? On the other side?’

      Brid’s chin rose, if anything, a little higher. But there was a touch of colour in her cheeks. ‘I like it here. I saw A-dam’s village; I saw his house,’ she said defiantly.

      ‘And what will you say to our uncle?’

      ‘I will say nothing. I came to see our mother.’

      Adam had not dared meet Gartnait’s eye. He knew what they had done was wrong. It was his fault. He was the man. He should have said no. He should have sent her away. Only they both knew that was impossible. Even now, as he looked at Brid and saw the heightened colour in her cheeks, the silky sheen of her hair, still dishevelled from their love-making in the tent only minutes before Gartnait had appeared, and the line of her long slim tanned thigh beneath her skirt, he could feel his desire running rampant through his veins. Clenching his fists he looked away from her. ‘Can’t you say you couldn’t find her?’ he said to Gartnait.

      ‘You want me to tell my uncle lies?’ Gartnait looked at him disparagingly.

      ‘Not lies.’ It was Adam’s turn to blush. ‘Just say you looked everywhere.’

      ‘He knows I looked everywhere,’ Gartnait replied bitterly. ‘He knows there was nowhere else to look.’

      ‘He must not know you have come here,’ Brid put in anxiously.

      ‘Nor you, little sister.’ Gartnait shook his head. ‘Or he will kill us both.’

      There was a moment of silence. Adam felt the small hairs stand up suddenly on the back of his neck.

      Brid’s huge grey eyes were fixed on her brother’s. It was as if they had forgotten he was there.

      Adam swallowed hard. ‘Look, I know he’ll be angry, but I’ll explain …’ His voice tailed away. He was remembering his previous encounters with Broichan.

      Brid was very pale. ‘A-dam. You stay here in your tent. I will go and see my uncle. Then I will come back.’ She sounded very confident.

      ‘But I should come with you.’

      ‘No, you know that is not possible. Better he does not know I have ever seen you again, my A-dam.’ Her voice softened suddenly as she saw his stricken face and she darted over to drop a kiss on his forehead. ‘I will come back soon. You see –’ she broke off abruptly and he saw her gaze pass to the edge of the clearing.

      Adam craned round in sudden terror and saw to his intense relief a familiar face staring at them over the rim of the bank. His friend, Robbie, was scrambling towards them, grinning broadly, when he stopped abruptly, his whole expression frozen into fear. Adam looked round and saw that Gartnait had drawn the knife he wore habitually at his belt.

      ‘Gartnait!’ he cried, alarmed. ‘He is my friend. It’s all right.’ The whole afternoon was turning into a hideous nightmare. ‘Put it away. He’s my friend.’

      Reluctantly Gartnait sheathed the knife, but his face remained sullen and hostile as Robbie, after a moment’s hesitation, came forward.

      ‘Adam, you old devil, I didn’t know you were going to camp.’ He recognised the tent. He had one just like it and in the past the two boys had often camped side by side. He was staring first at Brid and then at Gartnait. ‘Who are your friends?’

      Adam frowned, reluctant to introduce them. Gartnait and Brid were a part of his own private world, his secret world, which had nothing to do with home. He repeated their names without enthusiasm. ‘They were just going,’ he added as the two young men bowed at one another stiffly.

      Brid reached up and unself-consciously kissed Adam on the cheek. ‘I will see you soon.’ She smiled at him and touched his face with her hand. For a fraction of a second she clawed her fingers and he thought he heard a gentle purr. Then she and Gartnait had gone.

      Robbie whistled. ‘Who on earth were they?’ He sat down next to Adam and stared at him hard. ‘They’re not from round here. What weird clothes!’

      Adam was shivering. Not for the first time he realised that something about Brid frightened him intensely. ‘I met them over the other side of the hill,’ he said slowly. ‘Gartnait is a stone carver.