Surprises on the Scottish Isle (Coorie Castle Crafts #1)

Chapter 4

Tara was so exhausted that the only thing keeping her going was nervous excitement and adrenalin. In just ten days ( ten days!! ) she had put the house on the market and had sorted through all her possessions, which had been a mammoth task as she’d had to decide what to take and what to send to the charity shop. The biggest and most important task had been packing up the tools of her trade and all her gorgeous miniatures and houses, and she had closely supervised when they were loaded onto the small removal van earlier today.

As she drove over Skye Bridge towards her new life on the island, it felt symbolic, and she experienced a pang of regret for the death of her old one. She was closing the door on the dreams she’d once had. But what saddened her the most was that she didn’t feel sad to be leaving Edinburgh. And she felt no compunction to capture her marital house in miniature. All she felt was relief, and it was rather sobering to think that she had spent seven years and most of her adult life there, yet she had walked away with barely a second glance.

The final part of her journey to Duncoorie and its lovely castle seemed to take forever, but eventually she found herself trundling up the long drive and heading towards the narrow lane behind the castle, which led to the cottage she would be living in until she was able to purchase a house of her own. It irked her slightly that she wasn’t moving into her permanent home and that she would probably be moving twice in a matter of months, but she was nevertheless very grateful for Mhairi’s kind offer.

The removal van hadn’t arrived yet, so Tara took a moment to reacquaint herself with her surroundings and she halted briefly to gaze up at the castle and its impressive ramparts, then she drove down the narrow track towards her new home.

Not knowing what to expect, her first sight of the former boathouse had her squealing with delight.

Situated on the edge of the loch, the single-storey cottage was built out of old stone and had a pitched slate roof. As she slowly got out of the car, Tara was stunned by the amazing views. She was going to be living here ? Oh my goodness!

Galvanised into action, she hurried to the door and tried the handle. As promised, it was unlocked, and she pushed it open and stepped into a narrow hallway.

Barely glancing through the open doors on either side, which contained a double bedroom and a bathroom respectively, Tara’s attention was captured by the glass panel door in front of her and the light that was streaming through it.

Beyond it lay an open-plan kitchen and living area, but she only gave the room a cursory glance. Instead, she focused on the large picture window at the far end and the simply stunning view it framed. It drew the eye and held it, and Tara had to make an effort to look away.

The walls of the living area were devoid of adornment, and Tara could understand why. No photo or painting could compete with the view through that enormous window. Although there was a small TV in the corner, the two squashy sofas were angled so anyone sitting in them would have a perfect view out of the window rather than the screen.

Feeling emotional, Tara checked out the rest of the small house and was delighted to find it had everything she could possibly need. When Mhairi had informed her that the cottage was fully furnished, Tara had been relieved. Apart from a few bits and pieces and her doll’s houses and equipment, she’d decided to bring nothing with her to Skye and her new life, not wanting to carry the memories that those things evoked. She’d left them in situ for Dougie to keep or burn. She didn’t care which.

Realising that the van would be here shortly, she scooped up the keys to the studio which were sitting on the kitchen counter and hurried towards the car park to meet it. There would be time enough later to settle into the cottage. Right now, her priority was the studio and she couldn’t wait to get started.

Tara blew out her cheeks and put her hands on her hips. The flurry of

activity this past hour or so had left her feeling drained, but she

still had an awful lot to do before she was finished for the day. At

least the van was unloaded and everything was in the studio, so that was

a start.

As the driver and his mate had ferried box after box inside, under Tara’s watchful eye, she’d been conscious of curious faces staring at her from the other studios. She’d smiled at them but hadn’t had time to introduce herself. Hopefully she would make their acquaintance later today, but before she attempted to make friends, she really should eat something. It was already four in the afternoon and she was ravenous.

Tara hadn’t brought any supplies with her, just a carton of long-life milk and some teabags, which would do for a cuppa in the morning, so her only option was to see whether the cafe had anything left, or drive into Duncoorie.

Not wanting to take time away from setting up the studio, Tara locked up and headed to the cafe.

The heady aroma of coffee wafted up her nose when she stepped inside, and she sniffed appreciatively. Moving towards the counter, she saw a couple of slices of cake under a glass dome, along with a solitary scone. It would have to do.

‘What can I get you?’ a cheery middle-aged woman asked. She had been wiping down the coffee machine, but she stopped what she was doing when she saw Tara approach.

‘A large cappuccino and the cake please.’

‘Which one?’

‘All of them.’

The woman’s eyebrows rose as she repeated, ‘All of them?’

‘I haven’t eaten since this morning, and I’m starving,’ Tara explained. She held out her hand. ‘I’m Tara McTaigh, and I’ve just moved into the empty studio.’

The woman’s face cleared as she took her hand. ‘Gillian. I manage the cafe. Lovely to meet you. I’d heard a rumour that a doll’s house maker was about to join us, so I guess that’s you.’

‘It is. McTaigh’s Miniatures.’

Gillian beamed at her. ‘How fitting.’

Tara smiled back. It wasn’t often someone realised that taigh meant “house” in Gaelic. The smile was only slightly forced. If she’d had even the slightest suspicion that her marriage would fall apart, she never would have used her married name for her business. But at the time Tara had thought it fitting and had seen it as a sign. Now she was stuck with it.

‘You can’t have cake in lieu of lunch,’ Gillian said. ‘I’m sure we can do better than that. How about I rustle up a sandwich? Is there anything you don’t like or are allergic to?’

‘I’ll eat anything,’ she replied gratefully.

Taking a seat to await her food, Tara removed her phone from her pocket. She should let her mum know she’d arrived safely, and she also wanted to see whether she had any new orders.

Pleased to find she had several, she vowed to make packing them up a priority as soon as she had located the items among the multitude of boxes sitting in the middle of the studio.

Tara wolfed her tuna sandwich down hungrily, then finished her coffee, but when she attempted to pay Gillian waved her away.

‘It’s on the house,’ she said. ‘Consider it a little welcome to Coorie Castle. You must let me know as soon as you’re sorted and I’ll pop over for a look. I love a doll’s house, and so does my little granddaughter. She isn’t old enough for one yet, but when she is— Oh, darn it! Who am I kidding? If I buy one, it’ll be for me. ’

‘I’m hoping to have everything ready by tomorrow,’ Tara replied. It was going to be tough, but the quicker she unpacked and sorted out her workspace, the sooner she could get some work done. She was halfway through a commission and she’d promised to have it finished in the next four weeks. The move to Skye had put her behind – not by much, but she hated having to rush. In addition, she still had to unpack the car and she would have to do a grocery shop soon if she wanted to eat. She also wanted to pop into the castle and pay her respects to Mhairi, and then there was a visit to the gift shop to be made, plus updating her website…

Tara was already tired, but just thinking about that lot was exhausting.

Mentally rolling her sleeves up, Tara returned to her studio. Thinking about it wasn’t going to get it done and she had a long night ahead of her.

Despite being so pooped last night that even her eyelids ached, Tara

was up with the dawn chorus the following morning. She leapt out of bed,

eager to get going (she still had loads to do) but pulled up short when

she entered the living area to make a cup of tea and caught sight of the

early morning light on the loch.

The sky was silver, the water calm and flat, and the sun’s rays illuminated the distant peaks on the opposite side of the loch.

Mesmerised, Tara made a brew and then perched on the sofa to drink it. On future mornings if she was awake at this time, she would take her tea and drink it at the water’s edge. It would be a wonderfully grounding start to any day.

Tea finished, she got ready to face the busy day ahead, thankful that she’d forced herself to put all her clothes away and sort out her toiletries last night, despite feeling as though she’d been walking through treacle because she was so knackered. Then she’d had a quick shower and had fallen into bed, her hair still damp.

This morning, she plaited it and tossed the heavy dark braid over her shoulder, then swiped mascara over her lashes. That would have to do. She had too much to be getting on with to fuss with her appearance, and the first thing was a visit to the supermarket in Portree to stock up on food and other essentials. Then she would visit the post office and send off her latest orders. If she was quick, she could be back at the cottage before the craft centre’s opening time of ten a.m. And if she was really quick, she might even have time to eat a couple of pieces of toast while she put her shopping away.

The supermarket opened at seven, so Tara was in her car and heading to Portree by half-past six, under no illusion that it would take her a while to find the supermarket, and then have to spend more precious time trundling up and down unfamiliar aisles.

Two hours later, she’d finished her shopping and was back in Duncoorie. Parking outside the post office, she was first in the queue and quickly had her parcels weighed and the postage paid. Making a mental note to check out local delivery and collection services, she hurried back to the boathouse, and by five minutes to ten, she was unlocking the studio door and breathing a sigh of relief. The morning had been hectic, but hopefully things would slow down a bit from here on in, and she could take a breather.

Before she resumed work on her latest commission, Tara took a moment to study her new studio and was quietly pleased with how it looked. The window was large enough to display three decent sized doll’s houses and although she hadn’t put any furniture in them yet, they looked lovely set at differing heights. Each style and colour was different, which she hoped would draw the eye. The bunting she’d purchased especially for the window was draped along the top of the frame, and she’d used model grass for the houses to sit on. The space in front of the houses held a selection of miniatures, ranging from the cutest nursery scene imaginable, complete with a tiny rattle, a dummy, and a changing bag with miniature nappies and a tub of cream in it, to a swing seat and a picnic basket.

Anything that could be found in a real house or garden, Tara was able to make in miniature.

Many more tiny items were on the shelves next to the display, and a counter separated the shop floor from the work area to the rear where there was another window set quite high up which faced the loch and let in loads of natural light. It was the perfect set-up.

Feeling calmer, Tara settled at the workbench. Laying her tools out next to her on the well-worn surface, she was soon lost in the delicate operation of installing a fireplace in the living room of the house she was currently working on. As she did so, she kept glancing at the photos of the real living room on which the doll’s house was based, making sure the miniature one was accurate.

Tara was so engrossed that she only vaguely registered someone entering the studio, and she was startled when she heard her name being called. It was Avril, the castle’s receptionist and admin person, checking to see if she was settling in.

‘Do you have everything you need at the boathouse?’ Avril asked as Tara hurried forward with a smile. But Avril wasn’t looking at her. She was too busy examining Tara’s stock. ‘Oh my God, how cute is that!’ she cried, pointing to a fully equipped kitchen, the table sporting cookie cutters, a pink bowl, a wooden spoon, and even a bag of sugar and half a dozen eggs in a box. ‘Do you make all this yourself?’

‘I do,’ Tara confirmed, with more than a hint of pride. ‘Thank you for asking, but I’ve got everything I need. I can’t believe how stunning the boathouse is.’

‘It’s lovely, isn’t it? Mhairi sends her apologies. She wanted to be here to greet you yesterday but with the castle’s estate manager on leave, she’s rushed off her feet. We both are, as I’m having to do some of the things he normally deals with.’ Avril bit her lip. ‘I hope to goodness I’ve filled in the contract properly,’ she said, then sighed. ‘No doubt Cal will tell me if I haven’t. He’s back on Monday, so you’ll probably meet him then. Or maybe before that – he lives in the cottage next to the old boathouse where you’re staying.’

Cal? The name sent a shiver through her. Nah, it couldn’t be. The Cal Avril was talking about was probably short for Callum, which was far more common. And, the Cal she once knew and loved, lived on the opposite side of the country.

Avril was saying, ‘Anyway, I’d better be off. If you need anything or you have a problem, pop up to the castle. Oh, and everyone knows you’re here, so expect a flood of nosey parkers throughout the day.’ This was said with a smile. ‘I’m not serious. The crafters are a great bunch. Everyone is so friendly, and you’ll soon get to know them all. Mhairi says we’re like one big happy family. Ooh, you’ve got a customer. See you soon.’

And with that, she breezed out of the door, leaving Tara staring after her with bemusement.

With a bright smile she greeted the two ladies who’d entered the studio, and when she’d made her very first face-to-face sale, Tara knew her instincts had been right – she was going to love it here. In fact, she was loving it already.