‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘Me?’ Kate was taken aback by Roderick’s sudden question. ‘None.’
‘No, me neither. I think my father would have liked to have had a houseful, but my mother wasn’t keen. I think she had her mind on other things.’
Eek, thought Kate, we’re treading on dangerous ground here.
‘I’ve always wanted to be part of a big family,’ he continued. ‘I always wanted to have about five children. I like the idea of them all bundling around together.’
Roderick smiled at the thought.
‘Yes, me too.’
He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. I know everyone wants a neat little one or two, but I always envied my friends who grew up with lots of brothers and sisters.’
‘Yes, me too.’
‘Does . . . is . . . Fiona is an only child, too, isn’t she?’
‘Fiona?’ Roderick sounded genuinely surprised ‘She is, yes. But Fiona has no desire whatsoever to have children. It’s not part of her grand plan.’
It was clearly a sore subject. Kate had spent long enough with him now to realize when a subject was closed. Roderick turned round, peering out of the window, spotting the houses clustered
around the ferry dock, white against the morning gloom. He seemed relieved to change the subject. ‘Look, we’re nearly here. Let’s go and check on Willow.’
Gulping the last of his tea, Roderick stood up. He gathered the cups onto the tray and took it back to Aileen.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so pathetic,’ sniffled Kate, blowing her nose again. ‘It’s just that she looks so lovely.’
Melanie handed her another tissue. They were standing outside, watching Flora. The seal pup had lost all of her white fur coat, and was now pale grey, mottled with darker spots. She had more
than doubled in size.
‘She’s a little barrel with flippers on the side.’ Kate laughed, watching Flora as she and her companion, Reggie, shuffled lumpily around the side of the pool. As if to prove a
point, the pups slipped into the water and swam in circles with effortless grace.
‘The bigger, the better,’ explained Mark. ‘She can’t be released until she weighs thirty kilos. She’s brilliant at catching fish, though – a real
natural.’
Mark picked up a bucket and strode across the concrete yard. The Seal Sanctuary was immaculate, even right after the Christmas holidays, the concrete hosed clean and the pools sparkling.
‘Watch this,’ said Mark, sloshing a bucketful of water into the pool. Kate caught a silvery glimpse of mackerel. Flora and Reggie swooped down, before surfacing, each with a fish in
their mouth.
‘They’re a pair of comedians,’ laughed Melanie. ‘Looks like they’ll both be ready for release at about the same time – I reckon another four weeks will do
it.’
‘Kate, you’ll help with the release, won’t you?’ Roderick looked at her.
‘Of course, but I can’t guarantee I won’t cry again.’
Mark stacked the bucket neatly by the tap, wiping his hands on his trousers. ‘I don’t think I’ve managed a release without a tear sneaking out yet, so you’ll be in good
company.’
Kate watched the water rippling as the seal pups disappeared under the surface, twisting and turning, their movements graceful. Flora’s head popped out of the water and she stared at them,
nose twitching, whiskers trembling. Her mouth opened, and she began to sing. The sound was eerie and ear-piercing.
‘I think that’s our cue to go inside,’ laughed Melanie. ‘She’ll be at it for hours now – I’ve never heard a pup as noisy as Flora.’
They slipped into the house through the back door, leaving Mark tending to the resident seals. Willow leapt up from the rug, dancing at Kate’s feet.
‘Leave your boots there,’ said Melanie. ‘I’ll pop the kettle on.’
Kate held onto the door handle, shaking her feet out of her wellingtons. As she did so, something lacy and black shot out of the bottom of her trouser leg. Her hunting instinct on alert, Willow
grabbed the thin and trotted round the room, looking proud of herself.
‘What’s that you’ve got?’ laughed Roderick, bending down to take it from her.
‘Stop!’
Kate shoved him out of the way, grabbing the offending article from Willow’s mouth and trying to stuff it in her pocket.
‘It looks like—’
‘Never mind what it looks like,’ snapped Kate, carefully pulling off the other boot and checking the contents, before lining it up with its pair by the door.
‘A pair of knickers,’ finished Roderick, bursting out laughing.
Please, ground, swallow me up now and I will die happy, thought Kate. And I promise I’ll never, ever, ever pull my jeans and knickers off together and throw them in a heap on the bedroom
floor again.
‘It was a sock.’
Roderick looked at her, disbelieving. ‘A sock. Right.’
‘Coffee, you two? Have you had breakfast?’ Melanie appeared at the kitchen door, kettle in hand.
‘Perfect.’ Roderick nudged Kate, laughing. ‘I get the impression that someone might have got up in a bit of a rush.’
Kate and Roderick spent the journey home working on final details for the bunkhouse. The main work on the building was nearly finished, and Kate sketched out her plans for the
interior over a cup of tea on the boat. ‘Shall we pop in on Bruno on the way back?’ Kate was surprised that Roderick wasn’t desperate to get back to Fiona. The idea of a coffee
and one of Bruno’s gorgeous cakes was heaven, though. They drove off the ferry, turning right along the High Street of Kilmannan and parking the Land Rover opposite the cafe.
‘Two nicer faces I couldn’t wish to see.’ Bruno greeted Kate with a kiss, and Roderick with a hug. Without asking what they wanted, he busied himself at the coffee maker, while
they found a tall stool each by the counter.
Bruno put down three steaming mugs of coffee. The cafe was surprisingly empty for the school holidays. Usually at this time of day it was full of teenagers lingering over fizzy drinks, nagging
Bruno to turn up the jukebox, teasing him good-humouredly about the ancient selection of music available. Bruno took a reverential sip, looking at them with an expression of bliss.
‘Gorgeous, if I say so masel. So what’re ye sayin’ tae it today then?’
Kate looked out of the window at the tired benches that overlooked the bay. Even on a grey January, the views were breathtaking. But the High Street was dotted with boarded-up shops, and
everyone she spoke to bemoaned the lack of heart on the island, compared to the way it used to be.
‘There used to be thousands of tourists here every summer, didn’t there?’
‘Aye, there did,’ said Bruno, ‘I used tae be packed wi’ them every day afore people started goin’ on package holidays.’
Roderick looked up from the paper he was reading. ‘It’s the same all over the islands. It’s hard to persuade people to come this far.’
‘Ah,’ said Kate, smiling, ‘but that’s where you come in.’ Now was as good a time as any – there was no Fiona, for one thing, and Bruno seemed like he’d
back her up. ‘I’ve had an idea for the cottages.’
‘Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’ said Roderick. ‘You’re not going to tell me we should turn the house into a luxury hotel, are you?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind,’ Kate pulled a face at him. ‘I thought we’d turf you out, and you could live in a caravan in the garden. In fact, I thought
Sandra could run the place.’
Bruno burst out laughing. He handed Kate a piece of carrot cake.
‘So tell me, what
have
you got planned?’ Roderick speared a piece of Kate’s cake with a fork and stole it. She slapped his hand.
‘You know the island better than anyone. Why not take advantage of that? You could take people on wildlife-spotting tours. You could rent the cottages out all year round. An ecology
centre, maybe even working in conjunction with Mark and the Seal Sanctuary. Boat trips. In fact there are three more derelict cottages. Families would love it here – the beaches are perfect
for children.’
‘Who’s going to come all the way up here?’
‘I did.’ Kate looked him in the eye, waiting for a flat refusal. The idea of guiding tourists round the island wouldn’t appeal to the diffident Roderick, but she knew that his
passion for the island and its wildlife would make him the perfect guide. Tourists would love him, and the fact that he was the laird, with a house that looked like a castle, would definitely help
pull in visitors.
‘You’re not like other people.’
Kate raised her eyebrows. ‘Is that an insult or a compliment?’
‘I’ll give you this, boy, ye’ve got a way wi’ words,’ laughed Bruno.
‘I’ll have a look online, do some research, but I don’t really fancy dragging a load of tourists around, frightening the animals.’
Kate climbed off the chair and handed her mug back to Bruno. They shared a conspiratorial smile. ‘I knew he’d love it,’ said Kate, in an undertone.
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ growled Roderick.
‘Your mum’s been on the phone, Kate,’ said Jean, as they walked into the kitchen.
Willow hurtled up to Roderick’s dogs, who were sleeping peacefully in a basket by the Aga. She threw herself on top of them, barking loudly. Stupefied by the heat, neither of them moved.
Willow bounced off to investigate the crumbs under the table.
‘Why? What’s happened?’ Kate pulled her mobile out of her bag, realizing as she did so that it had been switched to silent mode all day. Oops!
‘She tried your mobile about five times and couldn’t get hold of you – I think she assumed you’d be working up here.’
She was due on the island tomorrow afternoon. Kate thought about the mess at Bruar Cottage and decided that she’d leave Roderick to research wildlife holidays by himself.
‘I’d better get going. I have a house to tidy.’
Jean turned to Roderick, looking disapproving. ‘And Fiona rang twice. She says they’re expecting you at the hotel for dinner?’
Roderick, who was sitting at the table with his head over the laptop, already absorbed in research, looked up irritably. ‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about that – that’s the
last thing I want to do this evening.’
Kate caught his eye and raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t let her catch you saying that, or you’ll be in trouble.’
It was almost easier to bear, now that she’d accepted that Fiona wasn’t going anywhere. She and Roderick could be friends, and she’d stick to her ‘no men for a
year’ rule, and then she could leave the island happy. The trouble was that even thinking about leaving the island gave her a lump in her throat. Never mind, she thought, I can worry about
that later. She took a deep breath. Jean gave her an odd look. Sometimes it felt as if Jean knew exactly what she was thinking, and it was quite unnerving. Jean reached into the fridge, handing her
a Tupperware jug with a lid on, full of soup.
‘At least that way you don’t have to worry about what she’s having for dinner tomorrow night.’
Kate sighed with relief. ‘Thanks, Jean. I’ll bring Mum over when she gets here. She’s dying to look around the house. She’s under the impression it’s a proper
castle.’
Roderick snorted.
‘Is she indeed?’ said Jean crisply. ‘I’d better get the drawbridge polished, in that case.’
‘Elizabeth Jarvis.’ Kate’s mother held out her smooth, elegant hand to Morag, who had been walking up the hill from the ponies’ field. Kate was
fulfilling the dual purpose of walking Willow and showing her mother around the estate in the thin, late-afternoon sunshine.
The two women shook hands, Kate’s mother taking in Morag’s filthy jodhpurs, wellies and patched, ancient sweater. She, in contrast, was dressed in black trousers, a long floral tunic
and a camel-coloured wool coat. It was amazing, Kate thought, how quickly one slipped into the casual way of dressing that was normal on the island. She remembered her own spotless jeans and pale
suede boots from her first day, and looked down now at her walking boots, fleece and crumpled, mud-splashed jeans.
‘D’you fancy a cup of tea, Morag?’
‘That would be lovely. Come to me, though – I have coffee cake, just baked today.’
‘Perfect,’ said Kate’s mother with a grateful smile.
While Morag was washing her hands in the downstairs loo of the cottage and Kate was putting the kettle to boil on the Aga, Elizabeth gazed out of the window and over the countryside. She could
see why her daughter had fallen in love with the place. It was so peaceful, and so beautiful. Outside the dusk was sneaking across the valley, the sky streaked red-gold as the sun disappeared
beyond the distant hills. And the people seemed so welcoming – she’d had a lovely chat on the ferry with the woman who worked in the cafe bar. She’d hinted that there was more
than friendship between Kate and her new boss.
‘Big slice or small slice?’ Morag appeared from the bathroom, drying her hands on a towel. She lifted the lid of a cake tin, revealing a huge cake smeared with buttercream and
studded with walnuts.
‘I should say small, but I’m on holiday,’ smiled Elizabeth.
‘If you’re having a big one, Mum, so am I.’
Elizabeth shot an almost imperceptible glance at Kate’s thighs. Kate ignored her, and nothing was said.
They sat in the comfortable kitchen, warmed by the Aga, chatting until long after dark had fallen. Kate stood up to turn on the lamps, looking at her mother and Morag chatting animatedly.
She’d never thought about Morag’s age before, but Kate realized that the two women were of the same generation.
‘Oh, I haven’t ridden for years,’ her mother was saying.
‘We’ll have to sort that out while you’re here. Come up one afternoon and we’ll go together – it’s the best way to see the island. In fact, come out now
– I’ll take you to meet Thor,’ said Morag, keen to show off her favourite pony.
‘Coming, Kate?’ Morag held the door open for her, the cold air whistling in, cutting through the warmth of the kitchen. Kate shivered, reluctant to leave the cottage.
‘I’ll be there in a second – I’ll clear the plates away first.’
‘I was never happy when she was with that Ian.’
Kate paused on the doorstep, hearing her mother’s voice as she stepped out into the chill air of the stable yard. It sounded as if Morag was working her magic again. She had an amazing
knack of extracting the truth from people. She thought back, remembering the long chat they’d had when she first arrived on the island. Morag’s skill was in listening to the words that
weren’t spoken, and yet she held her own secrets very closely. Kate stood for a minute, torn between announcing herself and a terrible urge to listen in. The terrible urge won.