The Opening Page

Wednesday 14th August

A Day of Terror



They sat in a triangle of plush grass at the edge of the Cuddies Strip, looking over fields of wheat that stretched towards the River Earn. In the milky-blue of a late night full moon the lights of Perth burned low. Love like a moment in time. Danny Kerrigan turned and kissed Marjory Fenwick inexpertly, his hand tentative on her back. She leaned into him, felt him warm and gentle.

“Thank you,” he said.

“What for?”

“This. You’re right. This is much better than the pictures.”

“Better than Shirley Temple anyway.”

“Shirley Temple’s alright.”

She peered at him pretend-haughtily. “I think you’ll find I’m a lot more alright than Shirley Temple, Daniel Kerrigan.”

Danny grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

They kissed again, long and slow, each discovering the joy of intimacy. In the distance the clock of Perth Academy struck ten.

“We’d best get back. Your mum’ll be starting to worry.”

 
Marjory stood and wiped grass and moisture from the back of her swagger coat and put her hands in her pockets and hooked out an arm to allow Danny to slip his inside. They walked down the Cuddies Strip towards Perth. Trees hung low around them, beeches and silver birches rustling in the wind as darkness settled over Strathearn. Swifts, hundreds of them, circled in the moonlight. The Strip narrowed and dipped and turned, then opened out again and they walked arm-in-arm, laughing into the gathering gloom.

The stand of whins was so innocuous they didn’t even notice it but as they did their lives changed forever. From behind them the evening quiet was shattered by an explosion and Marjory felt a surge of air whistle past her right ear.

“What?” she said.

Danny turned. “Don’t faint here, Madge,” he said. He didn’t have time to look at her before a second report sounded and he collapsed backwards. The noise of his body crashing into the earth was the most terrifying Marjory had ever heard. He lay with his head and shoulders on the grass by the side of the path and she knelt beside him and stared in bemusement. There was blood on his face and on his lovely blue sweater and jacket. He stared upwards but made no movement.

Marjory heard a noise and looked up. There was a man standing over her. In her confusion she couldn’t imagine who he might be.

“Stay with him,” she said. “I’ll get help.”

She started to run down the Cuddies Strip towards the stile at the bottom which led onto the path back to the Buckie Braes and the outskirts of Perth. She stumbled over stones and tree roots and gasped as branches whipped against her face. She could think only of Danny, of getting help, of making sure he was okay. There were footsteps behind her and she turned and saw the man in pursuit. She speeded up and he speeded up and they ran together towards the stile.

As she stepped onto it she felt her foot being grabbed and she was pulled backwards onto the path. An arm gripped her throat and a rough hand was forced over her mouth. She could smell woodsmoke, acrid and stale. Helpless, she was dragged into the undergrowth between the path and the wheatfield. Brambles scratched her legs. Nettles stung her. She felt something being wrapped around her wrists and then a foul-smelling fabric was tied over her mouth. She gagged. She struggled in the darkness, trying to comprehend what was happening.