‘Ah!’ Beatrice’s eyes widened as she turned to face her companion. ‘You’re the Gaelic tutor.Iwas one of your students. Now I’m a willow weaver, apparently. Well, I was… I’m leaving tomorrow.’ The words didn’t carry much conviction as the sea breeze took them away.
Beatrice felt rooted to her peaceful spot at the foot of the sea wall and the view of Port Willow bay seemed to be opening itself out before her for the first time as the sun at its zenith made the landscape shine. Low rugged hills, white cottages, a great grey-walled castle on the shore opposite and a Lion Rampant flag flying from its turrets presented themselves to her.
To top it all off a thin, watery rainbow stretched across the sky. It hadn’t been there a moment before, Beatrice could have sworn. The brightly painted, colourful boats bobbing out on the water reflected the sunlight and cast their own glittering, broken rainbows through the water. For a moment, Beatrice let herself imagine the effect was nothing to do with science and refraction and more to do with magic.
‘I hadn’t realised how pretty it was here.’
‘Sometimes you need to sit still and just look,’ Kitty said, sipping her tea, scanning her eyes lazily along the horizon.
‘So what will you do now you’ve no students?’ Beatrice said, breaking off a satisfyingly large chunk of flaky white fish in crisp, bubbled batter.
‘It’ll work itself out, I’m sure. I had a week’s holidaying planned first, just relaxing in Port Willow, and Atholl’s brought me in until the end of September and I’m sure he’ll sort some students out for me, so I’m not going anywhere and I have plenty of uni work to be getting on with in the meantime.’
‘Seth mentioned you worked at a university.’
‘Ah, yes, the all-seeing Seth.’ Kitty spoke through bites of their lunch. ‘I saw him grilling you last night. He doesn’t miss much. I run the Gaelic programme at a uni about thirty miles north of here. It’s a lovely job and I have my summer free to do things like this.’
‘Sounds ideal.’
‘I think so.’ Kitty’s eyes swept along the bay. ‘This beats any gap year beach in Thailand or summer holiday job in a library, or whatnot.’
They’d come to the bottom of the chip wrapper already and between them had greedily hoovered up most of the batter. Kitty threw a scrap to the patient gull who rewarded her with a loud caw before snatching its prize and flying off along to the jetty at the far end of the beach.
‘I tell you what would go down well as a pudding,’ Kitty’s eyes glinted. ‘A gin and tonic.’
‘Well, I don’t know about Gaelic, butnowyou are speaking my language, Kitty.’
‘Come on then.’ She helped haul Beatrice up from the sand.
‘Let’s see if Eugene Fergusson can still pour a good mixer.’
‘Let’s. Do you think he’ll let me use the inn computer? I need to let my sister know I’m not going back to Warwickshire today after all, but I’ve lost my mobile with her new number in it.’
‘I’m sure he’ll no’ mind.’
‘Kitty? Thank you… I really needed to see a friendly face today.’
‘My pleasure.’ Kitty smiled warmly. ‘Umm, Beatrice?’
‘Uh-huh?’
‘Is your bum as wet as mine?’
She reached a hand behind her and grimaced. ‘The sandwasquite damp, wasn’t it?’
Their laughter resounded across the bay, and when Beatrice stumbled over the top step onto the road Kitty caught her arm and held it fast all the way to the door of The Princess and the Pea Inn.
‘Did the bar look like this last night?’ Beatrice said, glancing around. Had there been sparkling white fairy lights strung in taut, neat lines along the bar shelves causing the glassware and whisky bottles to glimmer? And the table tops now gleamed with heady scented beeswax. Weren’t they sticky and dull yesterday? And…
‘Gene? You’re looking smart!’ Beatrice couldn’t help grinning at the sheepish look on his face as he swept a cloth inside the pint glasses.
‘It was those Geordie women, wasn’t it? The hairdressers. Practically ambushed me, they did. After breakfast. Something about not being able to forgive themselves and calling me a follicle criminal, which I didnae much appreciate. Anyway, they did this to me.’ He ran a hand over his shorn head.
‘I like it,’ Kitty said immediately, before ordering two GlenWyvis Highland gins with full fat tonic and orange peel, which Gene efficiently set about preparing.
‘You look ten years younger now,’ Beatrice chipped in, and she meant it. ‘And has the bar had a bit of a makeover too?’
‘It needed a going over, I think,’ Gene replied, looking round the room with a little spark of pride in his eyes. Beatrice wondered if he was standing even taller than he had this morning; he seemed to tower over the bar.
