‘Thank you. I’m sorry to be rude when I’ve just arrived. I’ve been so excited to catch up with you all, but I’ll be more of a person after some sleep.’
‘You’ve done brilliantly,’ said Amanda. ‘When I went out to visit Niall, I was in bed almost as soon as we arrived at his flat. We’ll all be here when you’re rested. ‘You’re right next to the bathroom, and I’ve put the electric blanket on and closed the curtains in the room.’
‘Your case is in the room already,’ added Jamie.
‘I’ll get you upstairs,’ said Eilidh, ‘to make sure you’re okay.’
‘Thank you so much for the warm welcome.’ Carli gave Amanda a small hug before heading for the stairs with Eilidh. Ordinarily, she’d shower off the flight as soon as possible, but her body felt like it was being weighed down by all the luggage on her flight, and each movement was swelling the nausea in her gut. Why wouldn’t this go away? Was it related to knowing Niall was in Kinshore?
Don’t give him that much credit. It’s the Fibro rearing its head over the motion, time zone hopping and airline food.
Nothing to do with Niall.
Carli remembered the bedroom from when she was younger. Often, she’d been allocated it on sleepovers, although she’d usually snuck into Eilidh’s or Cara’s room to spend most of the night chatting. Or sometimes Niall’s. Now, it looked different, with cream painted walls and different artwork, a Persian rug over wooden floorboards instead of a carpet and a larger bed. But the captivating view across the golf course to the expansive sandy beach and the crashing waves had defied time.
Once Eilidh left, Carli opened the window and took a generous breath. After forty-eight hours of subsisting on recycled airline cabin air and hotel air conditioning, there was nothing better than pure Scottish oxygen. She would definitely do some yoga on the beach while she was here.
Closing the window and the heavy tweed curtains, Carli found her nightwear – soft, long, fleecy pyjamas with little sausage dogs on them – undressed, pulled them on and climbed under the duvet. It was like being inside a toaster. Back home, Glen laid on the bed with her, his hot doggy body warming her and making it far too hot in summer. What was he doing now? What time even was it in Melbourne?
But before Carli could calculate the time difference, sleep had swooped in and she was out for the count.
Carli had no idea how long she’d slept, but when she awoke, the room was pitch black and she knew only one thing. She had to get to the bathroom to be sick. She threw herself out of bed.
And fell onto the floor.
Shit, legs, how have you forgotten how to stand up?
Hauling herself to her feet again and sitting on the edgeof the bed, she found the switch to the bedside lamp and stumbled to the door.
It had been so long since she’d eaten, Carli was surprised there was anything to vomit up.She knelt over the toilet bowl and waited as her gut spasmed. But nothing came.
Oh, come on. Just happen so I can go back to bed.The bathroom tiles were freezing on her knees and her feet were bare. Plus, hovering your head over a toilet bowl – regardless of whether it was part of a lovely light bathroom with designer toiletries – was not how anyone wanted to spend their time. Surely, this should induce vomit.
But still, the retching was fruitless. Eventually, Carli got up from the floor, grabbing onto the side of the bath to steady herself.
Woah! Legs. Please do your job.
Carli wobbled back into the darkness of the hall, a wall of warmth cocooning her. But outside her bedroom, the first on the right at the top of the main staircase, dizziness curled in again like a twister.Shit.She grabbed the bannister and closed her eyes. Man, this was some start to her time in Scotland. If only she could steady herself enough to get back to bed.
Inhale. Exhale. Hold tight until you’re steady.
Carli took another deep breath, like in her yoga practice, let it settle in her lungs before slowly opening her eyes. She glanced down into the darkness of the lower hall, her vision adjusting a little now. There was only a light from a crack where the kitchen door was slightly ajar. The house gave the distinct impression that everyone – except one or maybe two people – had gone to bed? That’s what she wanted to do, to sleep peacefully.
Letting go of the bannister and turning to her room, sheglanced down the stairwell to her left. All the times she’d climbed these stairs in the past, Niall with her, their fingers entwined. On their way to his room. To laugh, to cuddle, to kiss. Or more. She saw him now, as clear as it was yesterday. Right there. At the foot of the stairs, like a ghost of the past.
But ghosts weren’t real, and Niall wasn’t dead.
So that meant only one thing.
Niall Butler was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Chapter 6
Carli
Fuck.Here she was, sick as a puppy, in her sausage dog pyjamas, hair plastered to her head, and there was Niall Butler, gazing right up at her.
Carli barely had the brainpower to register exactly what she was faced with here, but this was not how she would have played this at all.
