Entry Island by Peter May Page A

wind-driven time capsules, to be carried off to new lives in other places.
    But then I hear voices raised in anger, lifting above the others. Cursing and blaspheming and brimming with violence. A large group is gathered around a stand of trolleys laden with bags. An argument has led to a fight, and I can see fists flying. Top hats skiting away across the cobbles. The crowd ahead of us surges back, like displaced water, and my grasp of Kirsty’s hand is broken.
    ‘Simon!’ I hear her scream, panic in her voice. I heave against the bodies that have separated us, only to see her carried away by a current stronger than both of us, fear in her eyes, a hand hopelessly grasping at the air above her head before she is lost from sight. ‘Get to the boat.’ Her call is barely discernible above the roar. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
    The shrill sounds of whistles pierce the air, and I see uniformed constables ploughing through bodies, batons swinging. Another surge sweeps me away, and I realise that my only hope of finding her again is at the
Eliza
.
    I am determined now, driven by anger and fear. I am young and strong and fight my way through the panicked hordes, head down, using my shoulders to clear the way ahead. And when next I look up the
Eliza
is towering over me, and I realise it must be high tide. The crowd is funnelling like water on to the narrow gangplank that leads up to the deck, marshalled by sheriff’s officers.
    Hands grasp my arms and my shoulders, propelling me forward, and I go helplessly with the flow, craning my neck and turning to look left and right above their heads to catch a glimpse of Kirsty.
    We spill out on to the deck, hundreds of us it seems, and I elbow my way to the side of the boat from where I have a view of the gangplank and the crowded quay. I have seen sheep herded this way before, but never people. And never so many in one place and at one time.
    I scan the faces that fill my field of vision, apprehensionrising like bile as I fail to find her. I have been pushed further and further along the deck, and away from the rail. Voices rise above the melee, and I am aware of the gangplank being pulled aboard.
    Total panic fuels my fight through protesting voices back to the embarkation point, and I see dockers loosing ropes as thick as a man’s arm from the loops that secure them to their capstans. More voices raised from above turn my head upwards in time to see vast sheets of canvas unfurling to catch the breeze, and I feel the ship lurch for the first time beneath my feet.
    ‘Ciorstaidh!’ My voice tears itself from my lungs and I hear her call my name in reply, so far away I fear I am just imagining it. I reach the rail in time to see that the
Eliza
has slipped her berth and is pulling out now into the main channel of the river where the water is deeper and the current runs fast.
    And there, among the faces of the crowd on the quay, the pale upturned face of the girl I love. My sense of disbelief and dismay is almost overwhelming.
    ‘Ciorstaidh!’ I scream again. And for a fleeting moment I consider jumping overboard. But like most islanders, fear of water has always robbed me of the ability to swim, and I know I would be leaping to certain death. ‘Wait for me!’
    I can see the fear and consternation in her face as she pushes through the crowds, trying to keep up with the
Eliza
as she drifts away. ‘Where?’
    I have no idea. I search desperately in my confusion to find a single rational thought to hang on to. And fail. ‘Whereveryou are,’ I shout through my hopelessness, ‘I’ll find you. I promise!’
    And I watch helplessly as her face recedes from view, blurred and lost among my tears, as I realise it is a promise I can never keep.

CHAPTER TEN
I
    Sime awoke calling her name. Hearing it rip from his throat. He sat bolt upright on the bed, and felt the sweat trickle down his face. And yet he was shivering with cold. His breath came in short rasping bursts, and his heart felt like