this natural phenomenon.
They managed to dance once, then twice. His hands warm against hers, the stories of his home country floating between them like summer cider. And the words he spoke of: bush and mate, grazier and city slicker, cattle and dingoes. It was a world apart and a world Maggie needed. She cuddled up to him, oblivious to the hard stares of Tongue’s matrons. Here was a man who was willing to listen, who could save her from the torment of the last few months and a difficult future. It was so grand a dance that she considered her new life in Australia a certainty. For who would not dream of leaving this rock strewn place with its town hierarchy and a population incapable of forgetting one’s poor beginnings. Especially now, especially now that she owned her fine pair of running shoes – but at what cost.
So she giggled and pleaded and dreamt the Northern Lights so spectacular from the hill where the ruin was perched that Ronald laughed at her descriptions. Maggie smiled so widely that her lips ached. The ruin, she whispered into his ear, her toes straining as she stood on their tips; the ruin. This was how such things were done. How problems were rectified. He nodded, as a man to a child. He was talking to some of the menfolk. Maggie left him alone to dawdle by the hall. She pulled her cardigan about her summer frock and looked up at the stars. The night squeezed her chest with anticipation. She could be patient, although her mother doubted it, calling her silly and shrewish on occasion. She skirted the hall, kicking at pebbles and dirt, twirling in the fractured light from the hall windows.
Slowly she moved from the shadows. The dance was ending and people were spilling from the hall, some yawning, others laughing and chattering. She did not mean to grow impatient, yet she walked closer to the men haloed by the hall light. Ronald’s broad back faced her and Maggie edged around the groups of people standing like cairns, squeezing through them until she was positioned in Ronald’s direct line of sight. Finally she caught his eye and waved. He looked at her for a brief second, nodded and then returned to the publican who was demonstrating his fishing technique. It was enough for Maggie. It was a declaration of Ronald’s intent.
I’ll meet you there, she whispered to herself. And so she left, running along the main street partnered by her moon shadow, her heart skipping breathlessly as her legs carried her to the path that led to the ruin. Onwards and up she half-ran and half-clambered. She knew it were better if they went separately and thought little of her lonely race until she reached the hilltop and spied the dark silhouette of the place once inhabited by Vikings. Breathless, she clambered over the rocks strewn before the dark gaping entrance. Maggie huddled against the rock wall, deciding it better to wait outside where she could be seen than venturing into the dark of the ruin. She hoped Ronald would find his way quickly, for the dark abyss of the cliff scared her and her bare legs were freezing. She glanced back towards the path that lead to Tongue, her excitement diminishing as the minutes drew on. Then finally she saw him appearing over the rise of the hill.
Maggie sat back on the stone ledge. Remembering the past was always messy. One had a habit of sifting the good bits out so that the bad floated away with time. Here in the ruin she had laid with Ronald Gordon nearly three decades ago and to this day the seeping cold of the earth against her bare buttocks, his wet kisses and a howling wind that encircled the stone walls about them were the three things she recalled. It was hardly romantic. The rest of the night dropped away from her as surely as she’d stepped into the abyss beyond the cliff, for Ronald told her he was leaving Scotland and although she pleaded until not a shred of pride was left within her, he was to go alone. Maggie could not blame Ronald. Not then or now. He was a man like any other, and he took what she so foolishly offered. And she was the woman who believed irrationally in the strength of her wanting.
Afterwards, having begged him not to leave her, Ronald touched her cheek, wiped a tear from