‘Izzy?’
‘I’d love a River Leven Pilsner. John told me all about it when I was at the farm shop.’
Did she imagine it, or had Ross’s eye’s narrowed ever so slightly when she mentioned John’s name?
‘River Leven is the microbrewery,’ she explained. ‘I’m planning to stock some of their bottled ales for guests.’
‘Excellent, I enjoy a good Scottish ale.’
‘I hope his wallet’s in his sporran,’ said Xanthe with a wicked laugh as he strode away.
‘What are you like?’ Izzy rolled her eyes, although she did find herself watching the sway of his kilt.
‘Oh darling, he’s a big boy. He can look after himself. I should nip in quick if I were you. There are quite a few ladies here eyeing him up.’
‘Xanthe, he’s a guest.’
‘Pish, he’s a good-looking man and by my reckoning you’ve got first dibs. Although I’ve noticed a few other men here keeping a close eye on you. You could take your pick.’
Izzy shook her head, laughing. It was impossible to stay cross with Xanthe. ‘I’ll keep it in mind. Are you having a good time?’
‘I’m having the most wonderful time. Although I don’t think Mrs McPherson likes me very much. Probably to do with her teeth.’
Izzy blinked. ‘Her teeth?’
‘Yes, I only asked her which dentist she frequented. So I can avoid them.’
Izzy literally goggled at her mother, who let out a peal of ringing laughter.
‘I didn’t tell her that bit. That would have been rude.’
‘Phew.’
‘Honestly, Izzy, you don’t trust me.’
With good reason,thought Izzy, as she asked, ‘And what did she say?’
‘Said she hadn’t been to a dentist for years.’
Izzy swallowed before asking, ‘And what did you say?’ She didn’t trust her mother not to have put her foot in it.
‘Nothing bad. I just said that I could see that. What’s wrong with that? It was an observation. People can be so sensitive. If she’s so bothered, she could go to a dentist, couldn’t she?’ Xanthe shrugged her shoulders, dismissing the subject. ‘Oh look, here’s Ross with our drinks.’
Xanthe cooed all over him as he handed her a drink, which he pretty much ignored as he supped his pint and looked around the room. It had filled up since they’d first arrived and the noise was a cheerful cacophony of chatter punctuated with gales of laughter. Everyone was smiling with the possible exception of Mrs MacPherson who seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on everyone as if she were taking notes, ready to spill the beans to the next person that stepped foot in the post office.
‘Ooh, there’s Gregory,’ said Xanthe, and made a beeline for the man standing on the other side of the room. Suddenly Izzy stiffened. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she muttered, unable to stop the words spilling out.
Ross followed her gaze towards the man who’d just walked into the hall, his hand resting gently on the small of the back of a very pretty blonde girl who was laughing up at him.
With acute insight, Ross said, ‘John?’
Izzy nodded, her stomach contracting in embarrassment. How bloody humiliating. The guy had clearly stood her up because he got a better offer.
Her face flushed bright red.
‘You don’t need to feel bad about this, Izzy,’ Ross murmured in her ear as he stepped closer to her, almost as if he were protecting her.
Despite his words, Izzy’s mortification deepened when involuntary tears started to well up in her eyes. Why did this keep happening to her? She didn’t care about John, she didn’t know him well enough to care, but it hurt that once again she’d been tossed aside in favour of someone else.
