Chapter Fifteen
Monday in Portree was lovely. On the journey there, Josefin sat between the noisy children in the centre row while Erik and Grete claimed the very back seats of the Volvo. Mats smiled when he saw them and murmured so only Ezz could hear, ‘I believe they had a heart-to-heart yesterday. They’ve been all smiles since they came down to breakfast together this morning.’ He indicated that Ezzie should take the front passenger seat while he slid behind the wheel.
She risked a quick glance over her shoulder under the guise of fastening her seatbelt and saw Grete and Erik apparently chatting amicably. ‘It’s great to see your mum smile. What did you tell your parents to explain my presence at a family outing?’
Grinning, he swung the car around and set off down the drive. ‘No explanations necessary,’ he said, which could have meant anything.
They crossed from the Sleat Peninsula over the frozenmoorland, where ice glittered in the roadside ditches like mercury. They stopped to tumble from the car and photograph the pink and yellow-streaked sky above the snowy peak of Beinn na Caillich, which towered behind Broadford. ‘Beinn na Caillich means “mountain of the old woman”,’ Ezz told them as Astrid and Alvin posed for photos with the mountain in the background, their breath hanging in clouds in the frosty air. ‘Confusingly, there’s another Beinn na Caillich on Skye, not far east of here at Kyle Rhea, and also one at Knoydart on the mainland.’
When they’d admired the wildness of the moor, they piled back into the Volvo and followed the coast road in and out as if following the edges of jigsaw pieces, the road undulating past frozen beaches, upturned boats and a lone ferry chugging over the glassy inner sea.
It took them about an hour to reach Portree, which was built around a sloping bay, like Rothach but bigger. The grey-tiled buildings rose up in tiers as if to get the best view of the snowy mountains on the Isle of Raasay across the water, and the boats chugging slowly in and out of the harbour. Leaving the Volvo in a small car park, they found their way down to the harbour via a curving flight of stone steps, which Alvin insisted on conquering on his own, one step at a time.
Every form of boat bobbed on the corrugated grey sea from rowing boats to quite large fishing boats. Astrid loved the piles of creels and nets. Alvin was fascinated by an orange fishing boat with its own crane. Grete admired the pink, yellow and blue buildings that appeared on so many pictures of the town, brighter than the pastel cottages of Rothach village.
Back up the steps, they found the town itself twinkling with fairy lights as if a swarm of fireflies had decided tocome to Portree for Christmas. The town was a favourite with tourists, and the shops were dressed to attract them, with lights reflecting from shiny red baubles, and model Santas beaming behind their reindeer. ‘Do you have reindeer in Sweden?’ Ezz asked Mats, standing outside a shop with a bountiful number of reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh.
He nodded, his blue woollen hat pulled snugly over his ears. ‘In the north. And moose, of course, and lynx – though they’re not common.’
Absently, she straightened Astrid’s hat, which was slipping over one eye. ‘Maybe Santa should have had moose to pull his sleigh. They have longer legs.’
Laughing, he adjusted her hat, just as she’d adjusted Astrid’s.
As they wandered the quaint high street, Ezz was able to stock up on her favourite handmade soap for herself, and as stocking fillers for Thea and Valentina. Josefin bought matching kilts for her son and his boyfriend, sheepskin mittens, knitted jumpers, shortbread and whisky.
‘I must remember Irn-Bru from the supermarket, to make Girders,’ she told Ezz, with a grin.
Ezz grinned back. ‘Better get some Drambuie too, then.’
Erik and Grete bought Astrid and Alvin toy Highland Cattle, which were advertised as ‘coos’ – ‘cows’ in a Hebridean accent.
Showing their kindness, they also bought a ‘coo’ for Thea’s baby, Ezz having told them the happy news as soon as they met that morning. Ezz, not to be outdone, bought the baby a cream-coloured hat and bootees knitted from Skye sheep’s wool. The hat had rabbit ears and the bootees white pom-pom bobtails. Her heart gave an excited skip at the thought that she’d be an auntie again soon, andthistimeher nephew or niece would live close enough for Ezz to know and love them in real life, rather than mostly via FaceTime.
Mats’ hand brushed Ezzie’s a couple of times, while Alvin rode on his shoulders, but otherwise last night’s kisses might never have happened. Ezz liked his discretion, especially in front of his kids – and, of course, Erik and Grete, her employers.
It was a lovely, happy day, with two visits to cafés, one for lunch – the one nearest the Christmas tree ablaze with coloured lights in the centre of Somerled Square, by Astrid’s demand – and one for afternoon scones before they left for home. Everyone was full of smiles, and Josefin’s ruddy cheeks were almost orange in the chilly air.
Both children fell asleep on the journey back. The early darkness had fallen by the time the car drew up outside the hall; the twinkle lights twirled around the bases of the flagpoles bright in the darkness. It was past five, so Orla would have closed it to visitors before going home.
As they got out, Alvin rubbed his eyes and blinked as specks of white landed on his face. ‘Little snow,’ he cried happily.
‘Little flakes,’ Astrid amended. ‘I want to stay outdoors and wait for it to be enough to make a snowman.’
The adults laughed. Diplomatically, Ezz said, ‘I think you should wait indoors though, in case that takes a while.’
‘There was snow on the mountains today though,’ Astrid argued. ‘They looked like cakes with icing.’ Then she dragged off her pink hat and began to tug the zip of her coat, declaring contrarily, ‘I’m hot.’
‘Let’s go in before we take off our coats,’ Josefin suggested, extending an encouraging hand. ‘Then we canhave hot chocolate.’ Her eyes twinkled beneath her beige woolly hat. Astrid and Alvin ran to join her, and the trio disappeared indoors and through the white door to the family side, closely followed by Erik and Grete.
Ezz went to her office. It was her day off, but as she was here she might as well check Orla hadn’t left any notes on her desk. Quietly, Mats followed her. ‘Can you join me for dinner tonight? Maybe at one of the hotels, rather than the village pub. I could pick you up at eight. I like to be there for the children’s bedtime when I can. I’ll be back to full-time work in January, so I want to make the most of them now.’
‘That sounds great, and eight’s fine.’ Ezz hadn’t enjoyed being the centre of attention at the Jolly Abbot any more than he had, but the warmth in her cheeks was mainly due to Mats moving into her space, his gaze on her mouth. And forgetting that she was at her place of work, she found her eyes on his mouth too. He hovered nearer, as if preparing to kiss her.
Then Josefin’s voice came sharply, from behind him. ‘Would you like hot chocolate, Mats?’
He turned away from Ezz and strolled out of her office. ‘No thanks, I’ll make coffee.’ He went through the door she held with a smile over his shoulder for Ezz and mouthed, ‘Tonight.’
Josefin’s expression was very different when her eyes met Ezz’s. Shadowed. Taken aback. Dismayed.
