Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
T he last couple of days vanished with me taking last-minute photographs for the book and undertaking a few more interviews alongside Campbell.
‘Are you sure you want to wish me au revoir? I’m just getting the bus from down the road.’
Campbell pulled a dismissive face. ‘It’s the least I can do. I need a break from all this publicity circus for a bit.’ He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his jeans pocket as we lingered at reception in The Gorse and thrust them on. ‘It’s getting rather wearing, being a celebrity.’
I laughed despite the dragging feeling in my stomach, and embraced Julie and Kathleen in turn.
‘Thank you so much for everything. I’m going to miss you both. And your delicious breakfasts.’
Both women, their eyes damp with tears, bundled me into their arms.
‘Don’t you be a stranger,’ managed Julie, giving me another affectionate squeeze.
I nodded, struggling to say something. I knew I wouldn’t be back to Skye. How could I, after what had happened with Logan? It would hurt too much.
I tried not to look up and down the high street as I stepped outside but failed. My sliver of hope that Logan might show up evaporated. There was no sign of him.
I distracted myself by conducting a mental check that I had everything with me. My wheelie case sat by my feet and my bus ticket was stashed in my coat pocket. My mobile and camera meanwhile, were bursting with information and photographs of Skye … and Logan.
‘I’m going to give you ladies and The Gorse a glowing review in my travel guide,’ I said as I contorted my mouth into a watery smile.
‘You just make sure you return for a visit,’ insisted Kathleen.
Campbell looked down at his watch. ‘Come on, Darcie. You don’t want to miss your bus.’
With one more forlorn wave at Kathleen and Julie, Campbell and I set off down the street towards the bus stop, my wheelie case clacking behind Campbell. He’d insisted on taking charge of it till we got to the bus stop.
‘When you first came here,’ remarked Campbell, as we passed the bottle-windowed shops, ‘you gave the impression you couldn’t wait to get back to London.’
I kept my watery gaze fixed on the pavement snaking ahead of us and the tantalising glimpse of the hills beyond. ‘Little did I know.’
Campbell kept offering me charged side glances. ‘Thank you, Darcie.’
‘For what?’
‘For not giving up on me like a lot of other folks did.’
Oh no.
Hot tears pricked my eyes. ‘I should be the one thanking you.’
‘Now it’s my turn to ask what for?’ He edged out a quirky smile.
‘For not turning against me when I was stupid and blabbed to Justine about the cross. You forgave me.’
‘Ach!’ Campbell continued to angle my wheely case along. ‘We’ve all done things in the past that we regret and anyone who says they haven’t is a liar. Any anyway, it worked out well in the end.’
Did it? Logan nudged at the edges of my mind again. I tried to sound nonchalant but even to my own ears, the pain was evident in my voice. ‘I take it you haven’t heard from Logan?’
‘I did text him last night to remind him you were leaving today, but I didn’t get a reply.’
My heart spun to the floor. ‘Oh. Right. OK.’ I bit my lip. No doubt he was still hiking in Rum and pushing me to the back of his mind.
I deserved it.
We were drawing closer to the bus stop now and I paused to take in the pastel-coloured rows of houses, like strung candy beads. I imprinted them in my memory. I didn’t want to forget.
I smiled at the sight of the boats dotted in the harbour, bobbing and rocking about on the waves, their masts creaking.
I couldn’t quite believe that it was three weeks since I clambered off the bus, frothing with anger at Justine for despatching me here and seething with envy at River’s latest exploits. It seemed a world away now.
Skye and its inhabitants had rubbed off on me, the way they lived for the moment, their pride in their beautiful island, the way they embraced its nature and wildness and what it represented.
‘Here we are,’ announced Campbell, setting my case down at the bus stop in Somerled Square.
We stood together behind a couple of other waiting passengers, shuffling from foot to foot.
I hated goodbyes. The prospect of hugging Campbell and boarding the bus back to Glasgow was threatening to trigger tears. If I’d told myself that this would be happening back when I’d first arrived, I’d have laughed.
A thought occurred to me. ‘It’s a pity we never found out who wrote you that anonymous letter. Still, I suppose it doesn’t matter in the scheme of things. We found the Skye Lovers’ Cross and it’s safe, so?—’
‘Ach, well, that’s where you’re wrong, young lady.’ Campbell flashed me a look from under his thick brows. ‘I do know who wrote it.’
I blinked at him. ‘You’re kidding? Oh, put me out of my misery, please, Campbell. Who was it?’
‘Ava.’
‘Ava? Are you serious?’
‘Aye.’
‘Did she tell you it was her?’
‘No,’ explained Campbell, guarding my case at the bus stop, as though it contained priceless treasures. ‘I happened to spot an old shopping list lying in her kitchen the other night.’
‘And what might I ask, were you doing in Ava’s kitchen?’ I teased Campbell.
‘Sharing a bottle of wine,’ he replied, his face lighting up with colour.
‘I see.’ I bestowed a glittering smile on him. ‘Before I interrogate you about why you were at her place sharing a bottle of wine, please explain. Did you ask her about the note?’
‘I did. She was embarrassed about it at first. She said she was worried about getting on the wrong side of Gabriel Jamieson’s temper, so when she learnt that he was researching the Skye Lovers’ Cross, she decided to reach out to me anonymously.’ Campbell hesitated, mentally considering everything. ‘I think she didn’t want to put her name to the letter in case it all went belly up and she got implicated.’ Campbell performed a satisfied smile. ‘Ava happened to see me returning to The Gorse after I’d gone out for an early morning stroll, and she put two and two together. That was when she decided to write the letter and deliver it anonymously through the letter box.’ He nodded and smiled at an elderly lady in a tartan bonnet just in front of us in the bus queue. ‘Ava’s convinced it was meant to be, me coming back to Skye, finding the cross… She’s a big believer in fate.’
If only fate had wanted Logan and me to be together then. Perhaps we were meant for different paths.
I squeezed Campbell’s arm. ‘You make a lovely couple. I’m so pleased for the two of you, although I can’t say I’m that surprised.’
Campbell frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Because from the off, Ava would gaze up at you and go pink whenever she saw you.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ Campbell laughed, but he looked delighted by my remark. Now it was his turn to pat my arm. ‘Things have a habit of working themselves out in the end. My dear late mother always used to say that.’
‘Thank goodness we haven’t missed you!’
Talking of lovely couples, I let out an emotional gasp as Iona and Robbie came charging down the pavement. Iona’s long plait was whipping up behind her and Robbie’s shock of sandy hair was sticking up more than usual.
Iona bundled me into her arms and I clung to her. ‘We dropped by the guest house and Kathleen and Julie told us you were leaving now.’
‘Your brother…’ I murmured into her fleece. She smelled of sea salt.
She held me at arm’s length and offered a loaded look. ‘I love him but he’s an utter bonehead.’
‘You know then?’
Iona gave me a sympathetic smile. ‘Logan gave me a potted explanation and then I saw your video.’
It was at that moment that the navy and light blue coach slid into view.
Robbie gave me a hug. ‘Thank you, Darcie, and take care, OK?’ He stepped back.
Campbell held out his arms next and I flung myself at him, feeling his scratchy, bobbled fleece. He gave me a prolonged, fatherly embrace and a kiss on the cheek and then turned to Iona. ‘I know he’s your brother, Iona, but if you ask me, that young man needs to give his head a wobble.’
Iona and Robbie clasped each other’s hands. ‘You won’t hear me disagreeing.’ She sighed.
I pulled out of Campbell’s arms and laughed, despite feeling like I’d been trampled by a herd of Highland cattle. ‘It’s probably for the best. I see that now.’
I didn’t, but I thought if I kept repeating the mantra to myself, it might help.
‘So, what are you going to do when you get back to London?’ asked Robbie.
I shrugged as I grasped the handle of my case. ‘Start writing my travel guide and then I think I’ll take a break and get away to somewhere like Skye for a bit.’
‘There’s nowhere else like Skye,’ said Campbell.
I bit my bottom lip. ‘No. I don’t think there is.’
I lingered, reluctant to make my way onto the coach.
The driver, who’d been fiddling with somebody’s ticket, jumped out of his cab, tapped down the steps and took charge of my case for me, to stash it in the luggage hold of the coach. ‘Thank you.’ I smiled wanly at him.
Campbell reddened. ‘Oh, I meant to tell you, I’m buying a property here on the island. I’m moving back.’
‘Wonderful!’ I exclaimed, delighted. ‘What made you decide to do that?’
‘Och, this place is always in your bones. You might leave Skye but it never leaves you.’
My throat constricted. ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’ I gave Campbell a quick nudge. ‘I don’t suppose your decision to stay has anything to with an attractive, fifty-something, blonde botany student, does it?’
‘Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.’ Campbell grinned.
I appraised him. ‘And Chrissie?’
‘What about her?’
I waggled one brow.
‘I did have a bit of a thing for her years ago, but that’s in the past. Chrissie’s changed and so have I.’ He reddened again. ‘Ava’s one very special lady. Kind, genuine, the real deal.’
Iona and Robbie exchanged grins. ‘As for us, we’re just glad you made us both see sense,’ piped up Robbie.
There was a charged, emotional silence.
‘Ready, Miss?’ asked the driver, clattering the luggage hatch closed and jumping back behind the wheel. ‘I hate to rush you, but…’
I wasn’t ready. My heart was still hoping that Logan would come running down the street, to at least say goodbye.
But there was just the meandering shoppers and odd bursts of traffic.
I gathered myself and clambered aboard the bus.
‘Keep in touch,’ said Campbell gruffly. ‘Don’t be a stranger.’
I watched the three of them waving and Iona blowing a couple of kisses.
Echoes of the past three weeks were haunting me: pictures of Logan, the sunsets, the Coral Beach…
They’d lodged themselves inside my heart.
And as I sank into my seat and the coach glided its way out of Portree, past the higgledy-piggledy cottages and thrusting pine forest stippled across the mountain ranges, I wiped at my teary eyes and slipped into a dejected sleep.
* * *
‘You bloody eejit! What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!’
I shot upright in my coach seat and swiped at my mouth. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. I hoped I hadn’t been dribbling.
There had been a shower, and outside the coach windows the raindrops were chasing each other like silvery pearls down the glass.
How long had I been asleep? It felt like ages. I hitched up the sleeve of my coat and looked at my watch.
I’d been on the bus less than an hour, but it was as if I’d been slumped in my seat for days.
My addled head was brimming with tiredness and pictures of Logan.
The driver’s furious voice continued to remonstrate with someone. Now, he was shaking his fist through the windscreen.
I stretched out my back. The coach wasn’t moving. I peered out my window at the swathe of billowing fields, and then leant across to the elderly couple opposite. ‘Excuse me? Do you know what’s going on? Why have we stopped?’
The gentleman set down his newspaper on his lap. ‘Looks like some nutter is blocking the road.’
The man’s wife, who looked like she’d been concentrating on a crossword puzzle, toyed with the pen she was holding. ‘I wondered if it was roadworks, but I can’t see anything.’ She angled her head against the window and let out a frustrated sigh.
There was an eruption of activity further down the coach aisle where the driver was, and everyone’s heads, including mine, jerked to see what the commotion was.
I could hear the driver continuing to have a heated exchange with someone, the man’s face growing redder and more frustrated by the second.
Then there came the sound of the person the driver was arguing with. It was another male voice. ‘Please, sir. Just give me five minutes. I have to talk to her.’
It took a few moments for the deep, Scottish drawl to register. No, it couldn’t be. It wasn’t him. I must be imagining it.
My heart went into a tailspin.
Logan?
I shot out of my seat.
It was him.
Logan was ignoring the protestations of the driver and was studying the assorted faces of the groaning passengers from the bottom of the coach aisle. He raked a frustrated hand through his dark brown hair.
Then he spotted me.
Our eyes locked.
There were a few moments where we just stared at one another in disbelief. Then he started to stride towards me, his eyes never leaving my face.
‘Darcie?’
What was going on? Why was this here?
‘Now look, sir.’ The driver came barrelling up behind Logan. ‘I’ve got a schedule to keep.’
Logan whirled round to him. ‘Please. Just five minutes, that’s all I ask. Then I’ll leave.’
The gaping passengers exchanged more murmurs as they eyed the situation with juicy interest.
Logan drew closer. ‘Darcie? Please, will you hear me out? Then, if you still want to head back to London, I’ll accept it.’
The driver opened his mouth to protest, but there were sighs and small smiles from the other passengers.
‘Come on. Let them talk,’ urged the elderly lady with the crossword opposite me. ‘Five minutes isn’t going to cause us any trouble, is it, Clive?’ Her husband rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree. I think he knew better.
The driver tapped at his wristwatch. ‘You get five minutes, young man, and then that’s it.’
Logan heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Aye. Well, clock’s ticking, so you better get on with it.’
Logan turned his anxious face to me again. ‘Please, Darcie. I can’t let you go without talking to you. Will you please come off the bus for a moment?’
There were grumbles from the passengers, presumably because they wouldn’t now be able to listen in to what we were saying.
‘You don’t have to go anywhere,’ piped up the lady opposite again. ‘You can talk here.’
Her husband gave her a stern look. ‘Och, Jean, leave the pair of youngsters alone and stop being so damned nosey!’
Jean tutted and glowered back at him.
I found myself gazing up at Logan, thoughts swirling in my head. What was going on? Did he just want to say goodbye? Did he want me to apologise again, because I would. Gladly. It would be painful closure, but welcome all the same. At least I could leave Logan and Skye knowing I’d explained how stupid I’d been and how I’d always regret it. ‘Alright.’ I edged out of my seat.
Logan extended one hand and took mine.
I gazed down at his fingers furled around my hand as he guided me down the aisle, off the coach and onto the side of the road, where there was a bank of damp grass. His truck was parked in a haphazard fashion across the road, blocking the coach.
The sun was now pushing shafts of watery light through the muddy grey clouds.
‘Your video,’ he blurted, still holding my hand in his. ‘I’d no idea you’d made that.’
I glanced down at my boots and then back up at him. ‘It felt the right thing to do. It still does.’
Logan looked like he was struggling to find the right words. It wasn’t like him. ‘You know I went to Rum, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s beautiful but so remote, and the internet connection there isn’t good at the best of times. I was only receiving sporadic texts and emails. That’s why I only saw the video you made last night. And when I did…’ His voice tailed off. ‘You put your reputation on the line to protect the island, Campbell, me, the Skye Lovers’ Cross…’
I shrugged. ‘I still made a mess of things and told Justine when I shouldn’t have.’
‘Yeah. OK. You did do that, but then you immediately tried to put it right. You even risked your career.’
I couldn’t make myself look up at Logan, for fear of dissolving into a puddle in front of him. ‘I had to do what I had to do.’
‘But why?’ implored Logan. ‘Why do that? Why risk everything? I know how much your career means to you.’
‘Because I couldn’t leave here without trying to make things right.’
His chest sunk under his black waterproof jacket. ‘I knew how I felt about you and I suspected you liked me too.’ Logan’s eyes stayed focused on me. ‘But then when that blog appeared, I thought you’d used me.’
The thought stung me. ‘Why would I do something like that?’
Logan shrugged. ‘Publicity, a way of advancing your career or increasing advance orders for your book.’
Tears bunched in the corners of my eyes. ‘I would never do that, Logan. I would never use you that way.’
He nodded. ‘I know that now. But that was why I decided to get away. But I kept seeing you and thinking about you.’ He sighed. ‘Campbell texted me last night to say you were heading home today. What with that and then seeing the video, I panicked.’
‘Panicked?’
‘Campbell got Ava to send me your video and, luckily, it got through to me.’
I stared up at him. ‘Campbell did?’
‘Aye. He asked me if I’d seen it but I’d no idea what he was talking about, so he asked Ava to forward it on.’
I turned this over and over. Campbell had done this. For me. For us.
‘Sorry, folks, but time’s almost up,’ barked the driver, poking his head out of the coach.
There was a chorus of ‘Shut Up!’ and ‘Leave them alone!’ from the passengers.
I glanced up to see fascinated faces pushed up against the coach windows, watching with relish. Any moment now, I expected them to produce buckets of popcorn.
Logan ignored the irate driver and carried on with his explanation. ‘As soon as I saw your video, I packed my things and caught the earliest ferry and bus I could to get back. I headed straight to The Gorse and Julie and Kathleen told me what coach you were on, so I jumped back in the truck.’
I didn’t say anything. My heart was swelling in my chest.
‘Don’t go, Darcie.’ Logan gave my hand a squeeze and took a couple of steps closer. I could make out the flicker of his black lashes against his light eyes and the cupid’s bow shape of his mouth. ‘Please. Stay here with me.’
His eyes were dreamy and imploring. ‘I’ve fallen for you and so has Skye. And I think you’ve fallen for us both, too, if only you’ll admit it.’
My breathing was ragged as I gripped his fingers tighter.
He offered me a small smile. ‘The truth is, I fell for you the first moment I saw you. Even though you were a high-maintenance, stubborn diva in a tin foil dress.’ His mouth broke into his million-dollar grin. ‘I’ve never known a woman like you before. And even though I know you’ve dreaded a lot of the research adventures for your book, you’ve just got on with it, even saving a dolphin for pity’s sake!’
I let out something that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. ‘I had some help.’
Logan shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter. You still rolled your sleeves up and did it. You’re a determined, brave, gorgeous woman.’
I bit back a loud gulp of air as the spring breeze whirled around us.
Logan gestured to his truck, sitting in the middle of the country road. ‘Thank goodness there were no police around, otherwise, I would’ve got a speeding ticket.’
I managed a tearful grin.
‘So, what do you say, Ms Freeman? Will you let me and Skye into your heart?’
My breathing was coming out in excited gasps. Could I do this? Could I stay here on Skye and say goodbye to London? What had happened to me? What had happened to the brusque, ambitious young woman of three weeks ago, who judged her own successes and failures by the amount of social media exposure and likes she received?
Logan had happened, that’s what. From the minute he came strolling down the harbour that day, he’d hit me like an express train, and I didn’t know what to do or say, or how to react.
As I stared up at him, his hair ruffling in the breeze, I knew I couldn’t go back to London. I didn’t want to. The prospect of leaving Logan and Skye behind was incomprehensible. He’d shown me that there was more to life than judging myself through a phone screen. There was the here and now, with all its colour and life and excitement. That mattered. All the other stuff didn’t.
I could return to London and turn my back on him and this island, or I could take a chance and live for the moment. It seemed the easiest choice in the world to make.
‘And what will I do if I stay?’ I said in a raspy voice, taking in every detail of his face.
‘Anything you want to. You’ve got your travel guide to write and now that you and Campbell discovered the cross, you’re getting lots of work offers. Campbell told me.’
Campbell had certainly been busy!
My attention fell again on Logan’s mouth. The burning urge to kiss him under this rain-splashed sky was all-encompassing.
‘All I want is you, Logan, and to be here with you. Nothing else matters.’
Our mouths finally met and we kissed over and over, while the sun at last forced its way out from behind the clouds.
And as the coach passengers cheered and thumped on the windows, I realised it’s true what they say: home really is where the heart is.