‘That sounds like a plan,’ said Rosie. ‘I’ll go and get the glasses.’
Just then Isobel’s phone started to ring. She frowned. ‘It’s Mum. I better take it just in case there’s anything wrong. I’ll be there in a minute.’
Rosie went downstairs and sat on the bench outside while she waited for Isobel to finish her call. It was so peaceful with the only sound that of chirping birds and a few lazy bees buzzing by.Rosie was glad that the cottage next door appeared to be empty. There had been no sign of anyone since she had arrived and she hoped it would continue to stay vacant. For as long as she could remember it had been a holiday let, but averyexpensive one. But not everyone wanted to pay through the odds to holiday in Scotland when the weather could be a bit of a lottery.
Like Creel Cottage, Beach Cottage was a traditionally built three-bedroom cottage which had been restored over the years and now had a wood-burning stove in the lounge and an outside hot tub surrounded by decking in the enclosed garden with sea views. Fairy lights were strung around the garden and they did look lovely in the website pictures when they were turned on and twinkling at night. The bedrooms were decorated to the highest specification with Egyptian cotton sheets and thick white duvets. The kitchen had a top of the range stove and coffee machine and was very sleekly designed. When she had a nosy at the cottage online, it made her cottage look positively shabby. Before they had moved over to the island, Dermot had tried to persuade her to makeover Creel Cottage and let it out but she had dug her heels in and refused. Even though she knew some of the downstairs rooms were still in need of attention and a lick of paint she wouldn’t swap it for the world. It felt homely and had character which she felt next door didn’t as it had been renovated to capacity.
Her stomach rumbled and she realised how famished she was, despite the cake earlier. Rosie had always been a good eater and had always been curvy rather than overweight but Dermot’s news had destroyed her self-confidence and her appetite. Especially as his new woman was as svelte as a pin. When Rosie had found out her name, she had googled and seen photos on her employer’s website. In her darker moments she had wondered if she had brought this on herself. Maybe if she had been a better wife, a prettier or thinner wife, then this wouldn’thave happened. Dermot wouldn’t have wanted to leave her. But then she had given herself a shake. She knew this was nothing to do with her, really. And Isobel would kill her if she knew her friend was thinking like that. There was no point in going back to that dark place again. What was done was done. Dermot had made his choices and moved on and perhaps had done her a favour. She had to remember thatandshe had to move on too.
She sat for a moment watching a blackbird hopping around the patio and admired the pale pink petals of the rose bush that had always been her father’s pride and joy. She told herself that both were signs from nature that, despite the past few horrid months, life goes on.
‘Mum sends her love,’ said Isobel, appearing in the garden.
‘Is everything okay with her?’
Isobel shook her head in despair. ‘Yes, she’s just having a problem logging into Netflix and needed my help. I feel like her on-call IT person and I don’t even understand how to sort it most of the time. Anyway, she’s all sorted. There’s some new boxset on that she and Bill are keen to watch.’
‘Two ticks and I’ll sort the drinks.’ Rosie went inside and quickly poured two glasses of Prosecco and brought them out to Isobel who was now sitting at the small patio table.
‘Cheers,’ Isobel said, clinking her glass against Rosie’s.
‘Slainte,’ said Rosie. ‘Thanks for coming over to stay. Here’s to a great summer on Arran.’ Rosie took a sip of the fizz and smiled. Things could only get better now that Isobel was here.
Isobel laughed heartily. ‘Cheers. And thanks for having me over. We will have a ball. Us two together, what could possibly go wrong?’
Chapter Twelve
Luke had tightly gripped the grab handle of the passenger seat as though his life depended on it. He could hardly look at the road ahead as Bella put her foot down, desperate to get them to the ferry terminal at Ardrossan as soon as possible. Her car was packed to the gunnels with his stuff and he was impressed by her organisational skills, even managing to wedge in his set of golf clubs. Then she had ordered him to get in the car.Pronto. He had barely secured his seatbelt when she had put her foot down and accelerated away from the hotel. He was surprised she hadn’t left skid marks on the road behind.
‘I need you to check the ferry online and see if there is space for us to get on the next sailing,’ she had said as she navigated her way out of the town. ‘I reckon we can be there in around twenty-five minutes if I put my foot down.’
‘You don’t want us getting stopped for speeding though,’ he said and then realised he sounded about ninety-five. He frowned as he called up the ferry website on his phone. ‘Mm. Looks like it’s full.’
‘Try phoning them. Sometimes it’s easier when you can just speak to anactualhuman being.’
Luke didn’t like to disobey though he couldn’t help laughing as it was rare to hear someone of the younger generation talk like that. He just assumed they all preferred communicating digitally like his sons did. He hit the call button and managed to get through to a helpful woman in the ticket centre who told him that his best chance was to join the standby queue. He relayed this to Bella who was chewing a piece of gum impatiently.
‘Okay,’ she said grimly. ‘I didn’t think it was likely. The ferries can be a nightmare to get on in the summer and that’s even if you have a booking. But I say we just get there and join the standby queue and keep everything crossed. Let’s bepositive. You just never know. If we think positively, we can manifest it.’
Luke admired her approach but also knew that no matter how much manifesting she did, there was no guarantee that they would get on that boat. He didn’t like to ask what they would do if they missed the last ferry for the evening. He didn’t fancy sleeping in the car for the night. Anyway, they could worry about that later. He was sure they could book into a hotel for the night. He reminded himself that taking off like this, was probably the most exciting and spontaneous thing he had done for years. It made him realise what a boring old codger he had become. Now, as Bella sped down the dual carriageway, he felt a wave of excitement ripple through him. He’d cancelled the taxi that was supposed to be taking him to the airport for his flight home tomorrow. London could wait.
As they followed signs for Ardrossan and then the harbour, he looked at the clock. He really hoped they would make it. So far, so good. Then they hit a set of red traffic lights. He watched as Bella drummed her fingers off the steering wheels. ‘Come on,’ she muttered, waiting for the lights to change. When they did, she had sworn under her breath then shouted at the driver in front, who was in no rush to move. ‘The lights are green. Get a bend on!’
He raised an eyebrow. Good God, he wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her. His initial impressions of Bella were that she was a bit shy. However, she had quickly overturned this in the past half hour with her decisive delegating, speedy driving and demonstrative gestures to several male drivers. He had watched the scenery flash past as he desperately tried to rack his brains for a glimmer of a memory that would help him remember Bella’s mum. But try as he might he really couldn’t recall very much about that time in Sydney. He definitely couldn’t remember being with a woman called Isobel. Hesnatched the occasional glance at Bella wondering if he really could be her father. He was desperately trying to compare any similarities. They definitely didn’t have the same nose: hers was petite and perfect whereas his was much bigger and also slightly crooked thanks to someone punching him and breaking it when he was younger. Could he really allow himself to think he might have a daughter? He had two sons from his marriage. Scottie was twenty-three, and studying sound engineering in Bristol. Ralph had just turned twenty-two and had taken a year out to travel in South America. Scottie had flown out to join his brother for the summer and if their last WhatsApp messages were anything to go by, then it didn’t sound like either of them were in a hurry to get back to the UK. Mind you, he didn’t blame them. It was all doom and gloom. The country was in a mess.
Just then, Bella skidded into the terminal and interrupted his thoughts. She rolled down her window to speak to a man in a high-vis vest.
‘Are you booked on, love?’ he asked.
Luke didn’t speak and watched as Bella took charge.
‘No,’ she said, smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes. ‘I thought I would take my chances. It’s a bit of an emergency, you know?’
‘Mm,’ said the man in the vest, sucking air in between his teeth and shaking his head. Then he flashed a grin at Bella. ‘I think you might be lucky. There’s roadworks on the M8 at Glasgow which has caused a tailback so there have been quite a few cancellations. People are raging, as you can imagine. Can you believe some geezer actually asked if we could hold the ferry for him?’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Honestly. The cheek of some folk.’ He looked towards the ferry. ‘There are two cars ahead of you at the moment.’ He made a clicking sound with his tongue.
‘Och, I do hope we get on. I’ve got my friend with me who’s here from Australia. And getting to Arran is on his bucket list before he . . .’ she sniffed dramatically. The man in the vest widened his eyes, clearly hoping she didn’t start to cry.
Bella reached into her pocket for a tissue and dabbed her eyes. ‘It was a last-minute thing to come over to Scotland. He wasn’t sure he would make it and, well, we want to surprise my mum . . . ’ Her voice trailed off and she sighed dramatically.
