“Well, that’s good, anyway, ‘bout the Aitkens.”
“Good? Are you mad? They probably know it was our boys that roughed them up and killed one of their own.”
“You think?” She doesn’t sound worried at all. I wonder why she’s so nonchalant.
“Who bloody knows, with the way they fuck things up? Dinnae ken, Flora, sometimes I think the only son I had that wasn’t a right blather?—”
“Don’t say it.” Her voice is pained as she pleads. “No, Bram. It isn’ttrue.”
I’m on my feet before I know it. I shouldn’t interfere. I shouldn’t let him know I’m in here. My hand is on the doorknob. I want to scream at him, shake him by his shoulders and tell him that Leith is as good a son as anyone could ever hope for. That he’s smart and loyal and kind, that he’s witty and intelligent, and so good to me I want to pinch myself sometimes. I want to tell him it’s his fault that Leith is down on himself, because he fancies he’s never good enough, like Tavish. And I want to tell him that's all his fault.
I freeze with my hand on the doorknob as they continue talking. She might suspect that I’m on the verge of leaving my hiding place, because I hear her put the vegetable peeler down and her voice turns away, as if she’s heading to the doorway.
“Now, Bram, let’s get a cuppa in the library and finish the bookkeeping that we started last night, eh?”
“No, I’m not in the mood to do numbers,” he mutters, like a spoiled toddler who doesn’t want his milk. “I want to know why they went into town.”
“Well, then, I’m not the one who can tell you that. I’m sorry, they said they’d tell us when they had more information.”
“He’s a fucking idiot, that son of ours. I never should’ve appointed him Captain. Never.”
“Bram!”
But it’s too much. I can’t keep quiet anymore, which is ironic considering the fact that I still can’t speak. I open the door to the pantry, and Bram’s eyes fly to mine. His eyes narrow, and his hands clench into fists by his side.
“You’re a spy,” he growls, advancing toward me, but he’s old and frail, and I’m faster than he is.
“Bram! Don’t you touch her. Leith will never forgive you, and I swear to God I’ll never forgive you myself!”
I want to scream at him, tell him his son is better than he’ll ever be, that Leith shouldn’t have to deal with his father’s oppression and fury like this. I grab a slip of paper and begin to write, but he tears it out of my hands and throws it to the floor.
“You,” he growls, grabbing me by the front of my top. He fists it in his meaty grip, and I slap at his hands. But though older and frailer than he was, he’s still strong and ruthless, so I can’t get away from him. I want to scream for help, but I can’t.
“Let her go!"
Flora slaps at him, and her shout seems to shake him out of whatever’s got him in its grip.
Bram drops me as if I’m on fire. I stumble to the floor, and Flora rounds on him and shoves him away.
“Leith would kill you! He’d bloodyfuckingkill you!”
I hated his father before this for the way he treated Leith, and hate him even more now, but I know if they fight, they might never come back from that.
Bram comes toward her, his face a mask of fury, but I can’t bear to see him hurt her. I shove him, both hands on his chest, to push him away from Flora. He stumbles and falls. I watch in horror as he strikes his head on the side of the table. Blood streams down his face, thick and red, as he points his finger at me.
“Bram,no!” Flora yells, distraught as she grabs a rag and presses it to his bleeding head. “I told her to go there! You were angry, and I didn’t want you to hurt her. Now look what you’ve done!”
She’s crying freely, tears streaming down her face.
“Someone call the doctor! Please!”
Bram closes his eyes, and he slumps to the floor. Flora stares at him, aghast at what’s happened, and swings her eyes to mine.
Look what you’ve done.
Flora yelled the words at Bram, but they pierce my heart.
Look what you’ve done.
