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The local students arrived at around eleven and everyone walked to Big Sand Beach. While a mass game of water volleyball ensued in a turquoise and cobalt sea, Judith sat on a dune admiring the Torridon Mountains, situated across the bay. There, the students would run wild for the next month, hiking, canoeing, learning to fish and generally bonding. All except Da
“Why did he come here if he just wants to be on his own? He’s treating the rest of us like idiots…someone should sort him out!”
This was said loud enough for Da
October arrived and it was time to start lessons, held in two mobile classrooms, situated behind the cottage, at the foot of the mountain. Each morning, Judith taught art history, followed by Da
“You stupid friggin’ idiot!” Ryan, oblivious to his crime, looked bewildered as he turned to face her. “You’ve got no social skills what-so-ever have you! You friggin’ retard!”
Belinda stormed off, before the loner even had chance to reply.
Uncharacteristically, Ryan ended up being last to leave the table, obviously upset by Belinda’s remarks. Judith and Hamish were actually clearing plates around him when he got up, but Da
Ryan wore the expression of a man who’d been betrayed and reproached his benefactor.
“I was starting to think you were alright…that you were a fellow traveller. But you’re just another out of touch asshole aren’t you?”
Da
“Ryan? If you’re going to be staying here, then I think Da
“I know how to analyse literature, alright…you can’t teach people how to write!”
At this point Hamish, who was now sat opposite, interjected:
“Even the best writers relied on quality editors. You know, the objective, academic eye.”
“If you want me to go, then fine. I’ll leave in the morning,” Ryan said stubbornly and got up to leave, but Judith headed him off at the door.
“Ryan? Just let Hamish see your work and then we’ll take things from there.”
Ryan looked petrified at the prospect of people seeing his writing, so much that Judith had to spend half an hour alone with him in the lounge before he agreed to fetch a sample from the byre. When he returned carrying a thick sheaf of A4, he refused to share it with anyone but her. Indiscriminately, she selected a page of spidery handwriting and found herself enjoying his first recollection of snowfall on the Easterhouse housing scheme, while he paced around the couch anxiously. In truth, she’d been expecting a pile of drivel, but not only was his work poignant and poetic, it was well structured too. She was instantly gripped and only stopped reading when he asked her opinion, some seven pages later.
“Ryan, I’m astounded. It’s absolutely beautiful.” He wandered over to the window and stared out at the night, biting his nails as if unable to deal with the compliment. “Why haven’t you word processed your work?”
He turned to face her. “I don’t know anything about computers.”
“See! There are always new things we can learn, aren’t there?” Judith declared with great enthusiasm, causing Ryan to shrug his shoulders diffidently. “I tell you what: I’ll teach you how to get round a computer if you let me read the rest of your book…you’ve got me intrigued.”
Judith winked at Ryan and he couldn’t help but return a lovely, wide smile. It was the first time she’d ever seen him anything other than sullen.
As they re-entered the candlelit kitchen, Da
“But I spend every minute of my day working on the book,” Ryan protested. “When I’m not actually writing I’m thinking about what I’m going to write. It’s a torment, like having an eternal itch. The only way to find relief is to scratch. So I have to keep writing all the time. You should know this as an artist. Did the renaissance masters have time to waste?”
Da
“Two days a week you can help Angie here with her seminars — that gives you five days undisturbed to work on the book. Ok?” He pulled his captives head back, playfully. “Ok?”
“Ok.”
On being released, Ryan struggled to repress only his second smile since they’d known him. He even removed the checked baseball cap — hitherto welded to his head — revealing a sandy crew cut, which made him instantly more amenable. As more whisky flowed the mood became so relaxed that Ryan a
“You know that first meeting you had? Up in the old textiles mill?”
“Aha.”
“There were about twelve of us, right?”
“Yes.”
“There should have been more — a lot more.” Ryan placed his cap back on, holding the peak and rubbing it against his scalp, nervously. “There were a good fifty from all over the city waiting outside in small groups, but our little crew chased them away with potato peelers. If you’d got us to fill the applications in there and then you’d have seen that nine of the thirteen people present where all from my scheme. They only turned up coz I told them to. That’s why there were just three the following week.”
“Why would you want to scare the others away?” Angie interrupted.
“Get rid of the competition of course. I knew places would be scarce and that you’d never pick some volatile loser with a second prize. In my experience most people are out to disadvantage you, so you have to make your own luck.” Unable to look at anyone he stared past Hamish sat opposite and focused on Da