(My tenth competition hit of the year turned up this week - just a shortlisting, but I reckon that they all count. Here is the last PB flash for the Wednesday. Next up and it will be Thursday in Port Brokeferry.)
PORT BROKEFERRY – WEDNESDAY EVENING
Mhairi’s Port Brokeferry Giftshop had done good business for a Wednesday. Several paintings had sold, including one of her own from the window. She was sorry to see it go and could not hide that from the old woman who had paid for it. That was the way sometimes. One minute the painting was hers and the next minute it wasn’t, even with her name in blue in the bottom right hand corner.
Callum dropped in on old Tom at the close of the day. He brought scones and bread. The minister was asleep in the chair by the bed. Tom was asleep, too. Callum laid the bread and scones on the kitchen table and left the house shutting the door softly behind him. He waved across at Lillian and she waved back.
Grace stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She was applying blue eye-liner and making her hair pretty. Behind her a packed bag of clothes that she would change into when she had finished cleaning up for Athol Stuart at the police station. A yellow dress and a yellow cardigan and white shoes. He’d sent her a message. An arrangement to meet. Like before, a year ago. She remembered walking with her hand in his. Over the sand. The light going from the sky so she could not really see him. His words coming to her from a shadow.
Magnus had walked past the window of 'The Bobbing Boat' café. They were to be meeting, Magnus and Eileen. He thought she finished at five-thirty. She was still wiping tables at six. He sat on the green bench opposite and watched time.
Margaret laid a cup of tea on the desk of Doctor Kerr. He had promised to call in on Tom Storey at the end of the day. She left a note beside his tea explaining that she would look in on Tom instead, just in case he woke up before she returned.
Sharon waited at the corner of The Victoria Hotel. She was watching the door to her house, keeping a little out of sight in case Mr Struan Courtald saw her as he was leaving. He’d stayed a little later than usual. The curtains were drawn on her mother’s bedroom window. She smiled and then was singing again, quiet as quiet.
Kerry read the letter through once more. It said nothing she had not expected. Ward had thought he had secrets from her, things he’d tried to keep only to himself. But Kerry had seen the letters from the hospital. It was why she had let him go so easily. His last months should be as he wanted them to be and she had no right to take them from him or to mar them with her bitterness. On her bed she’d laid out a black dress, even though there was almost a week before she needed it.
Moira sat at a table in The Bobbing Boat café. The door was locked and the lights out. Guthrie stirred sugar into his tea and asked her how she was. Said she looked the same. Said he had missed her. Ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as if he thought he might be dreaming. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he said. ‘I never thought…’ She laid a hand on his arm and told him it was good to see him, too.
Corinne had written in her journal again. Next to Munro's name. The same four words she had earlier crossed through.
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