Ezz flushed guiltily. Dammit. Why had her professionalism deserted her? She might have been advised to be less formal than Tavish, but holding up her face to be kissed by the son of the household was taking liberties. And Josefin had lookedsounhappy. She might have once said that Mats liked Ezz, but Ezz had shrugged it off. Nowthere was betrayal in that light brown gaze before Josefin turned away.
Ezzie hovered at her desk, wondering whether she could say something to smooth things over with Josefin, and if so what.
Then the door to the family area reopened and Josefin reappeared carrying a steaming blue mug, Astrid in tow. ‘We brought you hot chocolate,’ sang Astrid, skipping on her toes.
‘Wow, thank you.’ Ezz took the cup from Josefin with an appreciative smile.
Josefin didnotsmile back. ‘Would you like to go to the pub again tonight?’ she asked instead. Her tone was carefully neutral, but her eyes bored into Ezz.
Ezz understood. Josefin had caught the breath of the word ‘tonight’ as Mats had mouthed it and was just trying to confirm her suspicions. Steadily, she answered, ‘I’m afraid I’m busy already, but tomorrow …’
But Josefin was already turning away. ‘Tomorrow I am busy. Come, Astrid. Ezzie needs to go home.’
Astrid looked from Josefin to Ezzie as if she’d expected to stay for a chat, but then sang, ‘Bye, Ezzie,’ and skipped after Josefin.
‘Thanks very much for the lovely hot chocolate,’ Ezz called after them. But she knew that thanks hadn’t been what Josefin had wanted to hear.
As arranged, Mats picked Ezz up at eight and drove her to a hotel further down the peninsula. Good headlights were essential in the dark and winding lanes, and more of what Alvin had dubbed ‘small snow’ danced across the road like glittering white midges. Mats didn’t mention Josefin being miffed and Ezz didn’t enquire. It would be mean to bringto his attention that Josefin seemed to be feeling snubbed and jealous, and Ezz felt bad enough already at hurting the feelings of the woman she’d begun to consider a friend.
The meal was delicious, but service was leisurely and so when they returned to the village it was nearly midnight. Rothach sat in a frost pocket and every inch glittered as the tyres crunched gently down the slope of Low Road before it flattened into Chapel Road. Even the lights of the Jolly Abbot were off. Mats killed the engine and turned to her in the warm confines of the car, his face all angles and planes in the shadows. ‘Sorry it’s so late.’
She touched one finger to his lips to stem his apologies. ‘It’s fine. But I won’t invite you in for coffee, as I have to be up in the morning.’
He looked rueful, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing her fingertips. ‘Mum’s making plans for the next couple of evenings now Dad’s here and they seem to be getting over their bump in the road. Are you free on Friday? I could take the children to the beach and tire them out, so they go to bed earlier.’
She raised her eyebrows consideringly. ‘That might be possible, if you don’t mind a short evening. My sister and family are coming to stay at Thea’s for the weekend, but they’re leaving Inverness after Valentina and Gary finish work so won’t arrive till latish. Why don’t I cook dinner here? Then I’ll be free to join them whenever they arrive.’ She hadn’t offered a man dinner at her house since coming to Skye, but she knew that if she asked him to leave, he would. He was Mats, someone she knew real things about rather than what he said in his dating profile.
He nibbled her fingers and her stomach curled at the shaft of desire that shot through her. ‘Fantastic,’ he murmured.
It was quite a few minutes before she got out of the car and made for her front door, once more floating, as if Mats’ kisses unspooled her string so she floated like a kite over Rothach Bay.
Mats arrived at Ezz’s cottage just before seven-thirty on Friday evening. She opened the door to find him huddled in his coat, a few white flakes on top of his blue woollen hat. Drily, he said, ‘The small snow has turned to big snow.’
Ezz welcomed him in, gazing at the flakes’ swirl and flurry in surprise. ‘I didn’t even notice it had begun. I’ve been on the phone with Valentina in the lounge and the curtains are closed.’
Mats halted in the middle of wiping his feet on the doormat. ‘Is Valentina in Rothach already? Do you need to leave?’ Although his words were considerate, disappointment tinged his voice.
She shut the door on the snow veering and swirling about the streetlamps like white confetti. ‘No, poor Valentina, Gary and Barnaby are making slow progress. There’s snow on the A87 and a couple of cars have slipped off the road near Loch Cluanie. They’ll go straight to bed when they finally get here and see me tomorrow. Luckily, Thea and Dev set out for Dev’s family in Dumfries early this morning and got there without seeing a flake.’
His lips curved as he made short work of removing his coat and hat. ‘I’m sorry for their difficulty, but happy to have you to myself for longer.’ He moved in to drop gentle kisses on her lips. Azingshot down to her toes, taking in all the good places in between. He looked dazed, as if he’d felt it too, and it seemed to take him a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘What do we have for dinner?’
She turned towards the kitchen. ‘Fried herring with alime and pepper crust, boiled potatoes, broccoli and red cabbage. Then chocolate ganache with figs if you have room.’
‘I’ll have room,’ he answered promptly. ‘What can I do?’ He surveyed the table, already set, the oily frying pan awaiting the fish, and the potatoes resting in a saucepan of water. As she was expecting not only Mats this evening, but that Valentina and family might visit during the weekend, she’d hung up strings of Christmas lights. A pink set twinkled along the top of the window, and a gold string along the mantelpiece in the lounge.
‘How about choosing drinks? I’ll have a fruit cocktail.’ She indicated the fridge. If he wanted alcohol, he’d have to cross the road to the pub.
But he took out a zero beer for himself, and a mocktail for her, then he propped his nice behind against the cupboards and watched her cook, asking how she’d made the pepper crust she pressed the fish into and exactly how much lime would be enough. He was a big, warm presence. And she was ultra-aware of him.
‘My parents are spending a lot of time together in their suite,’ he said, as he watched her take out another pan to make herb butter sauce. ‘What herbs are they?’ He nodded towards her chopping board.
‘Parsley and thyme, with a smidgeon of dill.’ A month ago, she’d have answered his comment about his parents with a polite, neutral smile, but a month ago she wouldn’t have had Mats Larsson to dinner and he wouldn’t have discussed his family life with her. It was a nice, cosy feeling to be chatting while she cooked their meal. ‘Do you think Erik will stay right up till Christmas?’
He made a musing noise. ‘To be decided, I think. Mum’s clear that she wants to spend more time here or travelling.Dad may be left with a choice between being semi-retired or semi-married.’
The first hint of frying herbs hit the air as the butter liquified in the pan. ‘How do you feel about that? Can you get the cream from the fridge, please?’
He located the cream and handed her the tub, cold in her hand. ‘I hope he chooses semi-retirement, of course.’
