Tricksters Read Online Free PDF Page B

the teeth of Skye.’
    Murdo glanced at his watch. ‘Me too,’ he said. ‘ “Early as I arose refreshed, One May morning in Os, Herds were lowing contentedly, As the sun gilded Leac an Stòir.” ’
    â€˜Oh, leave it out,’ Morag said. ‘In the summer here all I hear is the quacking of English tourists at Reception complaining, complaining about beds and about meals . . . and if I hear one more person asking for “a half of bitter”, I swear, I’ll take the poker off his skull . . .’
    â€˜Aren’t you the Christian lady!’
    â€˜I wasn’t reared on the Creamola in the Isle of Heather.’
    â€˜You’re from Lewis, then?’
    â€˜ “Shawbost is the most beautiful place, The place where I was brought up . . .” ’
    â€˜Right.’
    â€˜ “The eternal surge”.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜ “Without restraint without mercy pounding the sandy shore”.’
    â€˜Oh, yes. Look, I was thinking . . .’
    â€˜But you’re from South Uist, aren’t you?’
    â€˜From Benbecula actually – Kyles Flodda, but when I sleep in for good I’ll be buried in Nunton. You know, “the township of the old women”?’
    â€˜Who were these old women?’
    â€˜Nuns.’
    â€˜You’re, er, a Pa— You’re a Catholic, then?’
    â€˜That’s what I am, darling. I almost went into the priesthood after I left school, but the Catholic Church rejected me.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜I preferred young girls to young boys.’ Murdo spread his arms, palms outward, and raised his shoulders in a gesture of apology. ‘Hey, I’m just winding you up. Sorry.’
    â€˜Do you go to confession?’
    â€˜I used to go.’
    â€˜Oh, I’d love to go to confession. I’ve got so much to tell.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Can you take food in with you . . . maybe a blanket and a wee pillow?’
    â€˜Well . . .’
    â€˜I’d love to get the chance to do that.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜To open up to someone without considering what they thought of me.’
    â€˜You’re right,’ Murdo said. ‘It must be great to be able to speak to someone you trust about the little worries that grind you down.’
    â€˜That’s what’s wrong with folk today. They’re drowning in their own thought. They won’t share with other people. So, they don’t really know who they are. I’ll bet you don’t know who you are either.’
    â€˜Uh-huh, I can’t deny it.’
    â€˜Pedro Gonzalez. “There is a Pedro Gonzalez for everyone, an adequate man, but beneath age and clothing, he has no name . . .” ’ the housekeeper intoned breathlessly.
    â€˜I didn’t know any of the Gonzalez family. All I heard was that they came from Garryhilly or somewhere like that up in south Uist.’
    â€˜Pablo Neruda, a famous poet from Chile, wrote that, you clown.’
    â€˜Oh, it was the Peterannas from Daliburgh – Uist Builders – I was thinking about,’ Murdo said.
    Morag spoke apologetically. ‘I’m one of these people who just love to read.’
    â€˜I’m not. Torlum was the school I went to. In Donald Macleod’s wee blue bus.’
    â€˜Most of the time it’s the Bible I read.’
    â€˜I hate interrupting you but . . .’
    â€˜First Letter to the Corinthians, Chapter Nine, Verse Seven. “It is better to marry than to burn.” ’
    â€˜Uh . . . I wanted to talk to you . . . about . . .’
    â€˜Fortunately, I won’t burn, though I never did get married.’
    â€˜But you did have a boyfriend at one time, though?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. But I gave him the elbow.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜I caught him in bed with the woman next door.’
    â€˜You must have been hurt to the quick.’
    â€˜No, I was just grateful he’d broken up