31st October 1102

“Yew really think so?” he smiled at her tentatively, “I mean, I’ve always been sayin’ so myself an’ Noah, he agrees but we never had the chance to ask a ladies opinion before now”.

His face glowed pink, the afternoon light suffusing his skin with a healthy glow Igrayne had scarcely seen. Had he always been this pale and wan? His freckles stood out amongst the pallid skin of his face like mud flecks floating on the surface of the milk pail, splattered from a hoof kicked up in irritation. She tried to recall the Arran of old but she could never reach further back than a skinny, gangly boy hiding behind his unruly hair and his stutter.

“Well you were right, I’m sure I can vouch for the ladies when I say it is one of the most beautiful places on the island“.

His smile broadened reminding her with a stab of a nervous young man standing beside the altar, gazing down the length of the church to his beautiful bride. Here before her was the mere ghost of that smile, wavering on his lips. It was nothing like the raw, honest love glowing on his face that day as he looked upon fair Nelly. And she, Igrayne, who had sat on the pew squirming with suppressed laughter would never be able to illicit such a smile from him. She didn’t deserve it and she cursed her fluttering heart for even daring to desire such a thing.

“I think the grass is bein’ dry. Would yew like to sit with me?”, he asked softly, his head bowed as though waiting for an angry cuff, his uncombed hair sliding strand by stand over his eyes.

She nodded mutely. What had been a slightly unpleasant sensation in her stomach before had now become a churning nightmare. She was reminded of the first few days crossing to Mhalwae where she had clung weakly to the railing, heaving up the contents of her stomach with every yaw, until there was nothing left.

She was losing herself. The Igrayne from before was gone, all that was left was this empty shell, knitted together with scars and fear. She could only gaze forlornly towards the horizon as the cheerful girl with the wicked laugh skipped away from her forever.

Arran cleared a spot for her amongst the fallen leaves and she carefully sat beside him. The sun was mutely sinking towards the horizon and she thought she saw a silhouette of her former self dancing in the distance, her golden plaits swinging wildly in the glowing light.

“I’m really glad yew come to visit today”, Arran murmured, staring fixedly towards the disappearing sun, “It means a lot to me yew know”.

Igrayne dared to snatch a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes following the softly crashing waves as they slid up the sand with a hiss before they were dragged, clawing the beach back out to sea.

She tried to muster a smile. “Well, you know how it’s bein’, got to do the birthday rounds and such and I didn’t want to leave you out”, she said with a chuckle.

There was a brief pause during which Igrayne’s heart thundered in her chest as she wondered in dismay if he had understood she was trying to make a joke.

“So, I’m just one of the people on yer long birthday list am I?”, he asked with a laugh, “No one special at all?”

This time the awkward silence extended for much longer as Igrayne blushed a firey red. She felt as though she had stood too close to the fire, the waves of heat singeing her upturned face. She quickly glanced at Arran and saw he was blushing too. She tried desperately to think of a witty reply, but her panicking brain would not deliver. Beside her Arran shifted position nervously. He settled, resting one arm on his knee, his body leaning closer to hers.

Arran’s knee was so close now it was nearly touching hers. She could almost believe that she could feel the heat radiating from his knee, the warmth of it spreading through her body as though he were stroking her with his rough hands. Her legs were trembling beneath her skirt, hidden by the heavy folds of her cloak.

She wanted to close the distance between them, to press her leg warmly against his, to pull him down beside her in the grass and kiss him all over his freckled face. She wanted to lie with her face buried in the warmth of his chest, the soft curling hairs brushing against her blushing cheek. She wanted him to wrap her in his arms and make her feel safe again.

“Igrayne… I…”.

“Arran… Arran can yew be comin’ here fer a minute!” Gena called from the front of the house.

“Oh, hang on a minute Igrayne… I’m coming Gena!” he called back, scrambling to his feet and pelting back towards the house.

Igrayne sat for a moment, watching until the sun slid behind a pink-stained cloud and then she slowly rose to her feet and followed.