from the big droplets that were falling now ever heavier. I made it to the shed just as the heavens opened. I was breathless but delighted to have avoided the worst of the rain.
I rubbed the drops from my brow and suddenly realised I was not alone. From the murky corner I made out a familiar figure. She did not move or make an effort to come forward and I was unsure whether to acknowledge her presence or just flee out into the downpour. Why did I want to flee? Perhaps I had a premonition of something bad coming my way in the future. Just as I thought this a large crow flew in a low trajectory across the opening of the old ruin. A crazy superstitious fear arose in my mind. The crow or was it a raven could be an omen. I pulled myself together and laughed internally at my stupidity. I, of all people was not one to believe in such rubbish. I had to confront her.
'We meet again.' I tried to make my voice sound normal but I had a strange sense of anxiety in my chest and had trouble regulating my breathing. Instead I almost panted out the words. 'I guess this can't be just coincidence. Can It?' I asked.
'We can contrive coincidence,' she responded from the dark. Once again I was struck by the quality of her tones. 'I am curious about you,' she continued. 'From the first time I saw you I could see your ghost - almost like a parallel image. You see I've always had this power - to see beyond, to see..' She hesitated and then went silent as if she'd said enough.
'My ghost, but I'm not dead!' I laughed nervously. 'Surely you have to be dead to have a ghost.'
'This ghost had come from the past. Ghosts always come from the past. When you are dead your ghost will be from the past - your current life. We carry the past with us - not just the personal past but the past of our family, our tribe, our culture. That is the ghost that sits on our shoulder as we travel through this sad life. We are shackled to the past. It is our ball and chain. The future is our freedom but in coming, it becomes our past. The ghost is always with us.'
'I'm afraid I have to say that I find all this talk of ghosts a bit risible.' I was uncomfortable to be party to such a weird conversation. This woman was obviously a bit mad. 'Do you see ghosts everyday then?' I asked mockingly.
'No,' she replied calmly. 'This is only the second time.'
I wanted to ask her about the other time but felt it would be wrong to humour her eccentricity. I searched vainly for a way to change the subject but she seemed to want to say something to me. She had emerged from the shadows and now was standing in front of me. She reached out her hand and beckoned me to sit down on some stones, the remnants of an old wall. I followed her behest even though the saner part of me still wanted to flee. She sat opposite me, her hands clasped in an earnest, serious manner. For an instant, I was struck by her beauty which had an elegant maturity of good aging She was still wearing jeans and the neat curve of her figure was accentuated by the tight fitting denim. Her hair, pulled back into a pony tail, revealed intense blue eyes that stared fixedly into mine.
'I think you should leave the island as soon as possible,' she said the words slowly, deliberately. 'The portents are not good. There may still be time to escape.'
'Escape what?' I almost shouted in exasperation at her now definite madness. Was she some paranoid woman driven out of her mind by the loneliness of the island? I imagined that the long dreary winter months would be a test for even the most strong-willed local, least of all for a seemingly cultured woman like this.
'Escape the island and its life-sucking clutches. Escape certain death.' Her voice had become hard and bitter. Her eyes had tears and she started to cry. The sobs were quiet and I placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. She fell into my arms and lets her tears flow. I hugged her and she responded by suddenly raising her head and looking imploringly into my eyes. I was trapped in a strange world still knowing I should flee this mad woman and yet driven by a crazy sexual desire to kiss her. My lips touched hers and there was a deep sigh as she suddenly visibly relaxed. Her body melted into my arms and as light as a feather I lifted her up and carried her into the shadows.
Afterwards we were both covered in sweat. She from passion and me, from the sudden terror of what I had gotten involved in. She lay there semi-clothed and I had the wild fear of being caught with her. I quickly tidied my own clothes and got up.
'I have to go.' I made my excuses.
'You can never go now,' she replied cryptically.
'What do you mean?' Again my voice raised a fraction under a shout. I knew that I had made a terrible mistake. There could be only one course for me and that was to flee.
'Don't worry, there's no point in worrying over things you've no control of. I realised that a long time ago. Just give in to the island. Give in to your hopeless situation. Still we can have a good time while it lasts. Can't we Dave?'
I shivered at her using my name. I had been very careful in protecting my anonymity. How had she learned who I was? It could only have been from Maria.
'Do you know Maria?' I asked.
'Yes, I met your little lover. I saw you two in the water. You thought you were alone. No-one is alone on this island. Not even us at this moment.'
I was startled at this contention. I had felt that I had been very discreet in my dealings with Maria. How could she have spotted us? Is there someone looking at us now? I quickly scanned the old ruin for evidence but there was only the gloomy corners and the rain coming down even more heavily outside. I cursed myself and my lack of self control. I knew I should have avoided this queer woman like the plague but I had been easily bought and sold by her sexual allure.
'I guess I should know your name.' My voice was defeated. I had no more fight.
'Molly.'
The name struck me like a thunderbolt. What a sheer coincidence! I felt the knot of the island tightening around me even more. But the little bit of manliness left in me made me bear up. I needed to take more control of the situation. I was being dragged into the superstitious world of this mad person with whom I'd been foolish enough to get intimately involved.
'Well, Molly I think that we made a bit of a mistake here. We both had gotten carried away. There's no harm done. We should just park it and it would be better for each of us not to have any future contact. I'm sure your husband or partner or whatever he is, wouldn't be too pleased. Let's limit the damage and get on with it.' I was being hopeful that she would agree and this potential nightmare would cease and the normality of morning wake up before me. But I knew by her tone of voice that no such scenario was on her agenda.
'But Dave, we can't undo what has happened. Like it or not our paths have inextricably crossed. My husband does not come into it. This is our little secret. Let's just enjoy it.'
So she was married to him. I shuddered to think of what might happen if he were to suddenly come upon us here. His wife still semi-clothed, lying in the dark corner talking to a stranger. I wanted her to cover her breasts. They no longer held any desire for me. I never wanted to see her nakedness again. I never wanted to see her again but I knew, that short of leaving the island immediately, that meeting her was inevitable no matter how much I tried to avoid it.
The rain had eased and was now just a fine mist. The sky had a great rainbow arcing across the entrance to the ruin. The world took on technicolour hues. It was mocking the greys and blues of my feelings which had the cloak of anxiety shrouded over them. Regret is only ever felt after the event. It is a fury with time that refuses to unwind. It is the rigid certainty of the past that refuses to evaporate. It is the knowledge of the future that will always look back with distaste. The inability to correct it instantaneously is what drives one almost insane. I am powerless in its grim shadow. I had to regain control.
'Okay,' I said assuming authority and ownership for my actions. 'Let's get dressed shall we? We can discuss this another time. The rain has stopped. I suggest you leave first and I'll wait a while before making my exit. We don't want to create suspicion.'
'You don't want more?' Molly had opened her legs a little. I felt sick at the thought and just wanted to sh
out at her to get out, but better counsel prevailed. I had to humour her - not get her riled. Her behaviour was not ever going to be rational. I had to be extremely careful.
'Come on!' I pulled her up. 'Let's get those jeans back on.' My voice had lost the authority and was more beseeching. She laughed and broke away from my hold and started to dance a crazed waltz around the stones. She held out her arms as if been led by a phantom lover. I closed my eyes to shut out this mad scene and tried to think of being back in a sane world. I felt my hands clutch at my head in a type of despair. I wanted to scream in desperation.
'What's wrong little Dave?' Molly taunted. 'Can you not get it up again? Are you suffering from manly problems? I can help, you know.' She reached with her hand towards my crotch but I caught it just in time and swung it away violently. She fell backwards and slipped over some loose stones. For a moment I felt that the sight of her spread-eagled nakedness on the ground with the doorway and fading rainbow as backdrop was a scene from a bizarre farce and I wanted to wildly laugh. But only for the briefest of moments because the words that uttered from her mouth quickly restored my horror.
'Oh you big man. You like to throw little girls about. Come on throw your weight on top of me, if you're a man.' She was taunting