The Mystery Of Macgregor’s Cove – Episode 46

Cast of characters dressed in 18th Century clothing stand in front of white cottage

“Your ma said to tell you all’s fine,” Noah related. 

While Amaryllis was visiting her cousins, whenever he sailed across to the island, Noah had taken to going up to the Macgregors’ croft and calling upon her with messages from home. 

“They’ve taken on a girl. Widow Watkins recommended her, and she’s doing well. She’s the daughter of one of Widow Watkins’s friends.” 

“That is good news!” Amaryllis exclaimed. After Dorcas married, the Bell had needed another pair of hands. “I’m glad she’s settling in.” 

It was a fine summer’s day and they’d been up to the ancient kirk where the first Macgregors to settle on Man had worshipped. 

“Is there a chance you and Simon will make up?” he asked unexpectedly. 

“Certainly not,” Amaryllis replied. “You were right about him. I’m sorry for the things I said, Noah – and for our falling out.” 

“We had words right enough,” he agreed with a smile. “But we never fell out. You and me, we’ve been pals far too long for that ever to happen.” 

Holding on to Noah’s hand, Amaryllis edged along the split oak-bole bridging the stream. 

“If Betsy and Cousin Lachlan were with us,” she said, her voice not quite steady, “they’d tell us be sure and wish the fairy-folk good morning while we’re crossing the burn!” 

“Moghrey mie!” Noah laughed, slipping an arm about her as they traversed the deep, clear water. 

*  *  *  * 

Amaryllis and Noah hadn’t long returned to the Macgregors’ croft when Flossie’s barking drew them to the open door. 

Betsy, Lachlan and Flossie were hurtling up the path, while Great-aunt Mathilda and Morag Macgregor followed at a more dignified gait. 

“I have my clogs!” Betsy cried, proudly showing off her new footwear. “They’re exactly like Lachlan’s!” 

“They’re beauties,” Amaryllis said admiringly. “I’ll ask Mr Watterson to make pairs for Ma and me, too.” 

“You’ll not go wrong with Watterson’s clogs,” Morag opined. “I’d be lost about the croft without mine.” 

“While we were in the village,” Betsy went on, fetching a dish of water for Flossie, “we saw those men who chased us from the ruins at Christmastide.” 

“Killip and Gerrard?” Amaryllis asked. “Whatever are they doing here?” 

“I’ve often spotted Killip. He’s a Manx fisherman, so that’s only to be expected,” Noah said. “But what reason would Adam’s bailiff have to be on the island?” 

“He’s been here before, but I know nothing of him,” Morag put in. “I know plenty about the other one, though.  

“He may call himself Killip, but he’s a Faragher. One of five brothers, and they make their money smuggling. 

“If you’ve seen Faragher around Macgregor’s Cove, Amaryllis,” she warned, “you’d best pray he does no worse than bring ashore contraband. Setting false lights is his evil trade.” 

Abigail Phillips

Abbie is the newest member of the fiction team at the "Friend." She loves how varied the role is - every day is different and there is always a new story to read. She is keen to work closely with established writers and discover new writers, too.