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

Chapter 6

Tara intended to spend Monday morning replenishing her stock of furniture. She had sold a surprising amount over the weekend to the tourists who flocked to the castle and the craft centre in their droves. But first, she was off to the gift shop with the items she wanted them to sell.

Over the course of the last few days, she’d met the other crafters and had made friends with Jinny who managed the gift shop. Jinny was around Tara’s age, tall and curvy, whereas Tara was short and slim, statuesque to Tara’s petite frame. Jinny was lively and outgoing, and had the gift of the gab, seeming able to sell heather to a Scotsman.

When Tara first met her, she’d watched Jinny make several sales in quick succession to customers who, to Tara’s eye, hadn’t appeared to want to put their hands in their pockets to buy anything. All of them had left with a carrier bag and a smile on their face, and Tara had been impressed.

‘I’ve made a space for your stuff,’ Jinny announced as Tara pushed open the gift shop door with her bottom, her arms full with a doll’s house.

Tara headed towards the empty shelves and placed the house on a wooden crate that would be used as a display stand. This particular house was quite large, with a price tag to reflect its size, but she had two smaller ones in different styles waiting to be brought over.

Several trips later, Tara was happy with the space allocated to her craft and the way everything was displayed. A tall swivel stand held clear cellophane packs of things such as crockery sets and bathroom accessories, as well as lamps, rugs and soft furnishings. On the other shelves were box sets of furniture, with the display-only pieces in front. All in all, she was proud of it.

‘Do I have to pop in every day to see if anything needs to be replenished?’ she asked, as she was about to head back to her studio.

‘That isn’t necessary, although I’m always happy to see you for a chinwag. It’s all computerised these days.’

‘Brilliant. Well, that’s me done. I’d better get back before people start arriving. Oh, I forgot, can you hand out one of these with each sale of mine?’ Tara gave Jinny a wedge of leaflets containing details of the bespoke side of the business, as well as information about her website. She’d finally got around to updating it last night, having taken some photos of the studio and added the craft centre’s address and location, in case anyone wanted to visit her in person.

‘Of course, and I forgot to mention something too – a bunch of us are going for a drink and a meal on Friday evening. Would you like to join us? It’s only the local pub in the village, but the food is good, the pints are cheap, and it’s got a good atmosphere.’

‘That would be lovely, thanks.’ Tara was looking forward to it already. Mhairi was right – Coorie Castle was like one big happy family, and she was thrilled to think she was part of it.

Cal was sitting opposite Mhairi, her desk between them. He had a

tablet on his knee and was busy making notes as the old lady brought him

up to speed. He’d been up early this morning, keen to have a quick scout

around the estate, choosing to walk most of it. Being out in the fresh

air as the sun came up was the best possible start to any day, and as

he’d hiked around the perimeter and all points between, he had breathed

deeply, the fresh cool air filling his nose with the salty scent of the

loch and the sweet smell of the heather which had recently come into

bloom.

The tide had been going out, exposing wet shingle and rocks covered in seaweed, and he would have loved nothing better than to stand and watch for the next hour or so, but he wanted to check the rest of the estate before his meeting with Mhairi. The estate wasn’t large, but it had a variety of landscapes – man-made, such as the maze and duck pond, and natural, like the loch’s edge, as well as the woodland, which was managed.

Satisfied that everything was as it should be, although there were plenty of jobs that needed to be done which he had made a note of on his tablet, Cal had turned his attention to the craft centre before he ventured into the castle.

‘I see you managed to find a tenant for the empty studio,’ he said to Mhairi a short time later. ‘Doll’s houses – nice.’ He’d peeped in through the window as he’d walked past and been impressed by the crafter’s workmanship and attention to detail. It was a good addition to the castle’s range of crafts and artisan goods.

‘I wouldn’t have taken you for a man who likes doll’s houses,’ Mhairi teased, pouring tea into two delicate china cups.

Cal helped himself to a splash of milk from a matching jug. ‘I’m not, but I know a certain little girl who will be thrilled.’ He could picture the delight on Bonnie’s face, and he couldn’t wait to show them to her. ‘Who’s renting it?’ he asked.

‘A woman by the name of Tara McTaigh. Avril drew up the contract, but I’d like you to take a look at it later today, if you have time. I’m sure she’s completed it properly, but it’s the first one she’s done.’

‘No problem, I’ll—’ Cal was interrupted by the sharp trill of an incoming call. Expecting it to be work-related (it usually was), he was taken aback to see the phone number of the local primary school flash up. ‘It’s Bonnie’s school,’ he said. ‘I’d better take it.’

Mhairi nodded and calmly sipped her tea.

‘Hello, Calan Fraser speaking.’

‘I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Fraser, but could you collect Bonnie from school? She’s not well.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Headache, feeling sick, complaining of a tummy ache, lethargic. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but we do feel she needs to go home.’

‘I’m at work. Have you tried phoning her mother?’ As he said it, he realised how daft he was being. Obviously, they would have called Yvaine first.

‘We have, but we can’t get through. We’ve tried Bonnie’s grandmother as well, but no joy there, I’m afraid.’

Mhairi had been listening to the conversation and had understood the gist of it because she flapped a hand at him and mouthed, ‘Go.’

Informing the school that he would be with them in ten minutes, he ended the call and began to apologise to Mhairi.

She said, ‘Don’t be daft. Go fetch Bonnie, and if she doesn’t seem too poorly, bring her back here. Otherwise, take her to the cottage and stay with her for as long as you need.’

Worry prodding him in the chest, Cal jumped in the car and drove to the little school. It was so wee and quaint, it made him smile every time he saw it.

When he was buzzed inside, he found his daughter sitting with Mrs Brown, the school secretary. Bonnie’s face was pale and she had shadows like bruises under her eyes.

Crouching beside the chair, he said, ‘Mrs Brown says you’re not well. What’s wrong Bon-Bon?’

Bonnie scowled and glanced around furtively before hissing, ‘Don’t call me that.’

‘Sorry. What’s wrong, Bonnie?’

‘I’ve got a headache.’ She put the back of her hand to her forehead to demonstrate. ‘And my tummy hurts.’

‘OK. Let’s get a dose of medicine into you, and you’ll soon feel better.’ He straightened and held out his hand. Bonnie slipped her palm into his and gave the secretary a small wave as he led her outside.

Cal expected Bonnie to be wan and listless on the way to the castle, but she seemed upset and annoyed, rather than unwell. And he had an awful feeling he knew what was causing it. However, he decided not to say anything, in case he was wrong and Yvaine hadn’t yet mentioned to her that Lenn was moving in with them.

They’d pulled into the castle grounds when Bonnie finally spoke. ‘I hate Lenn and I hate Mummy, too.’

Cal drove down the lane and parked in his usual spot outside his cottage. ‘You don’t mean it.’

‘I do!’

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Mummy says we have to go live with Lenn, but I don’t want to. She can’t make me, can she?’ Her little face was hopeful, and Cal’s heart constricted.

‘I think she can, Bon-Bon.’ He gave her an apologetic look.

‘Well, I’m not going, so there!’

‘It won’t be so bad—’ he began, then he realised what Bonnie had said. ‘ You’re going to live with Lenn ?’

‘Yes, Daddy. Weren’t you listening?’

‘I was, but I thought he would move into your house, with you and Mummy.’

She pursed her lips. ‘No. Mummy says we’re going to live in Portree. I don’t want to live in Portree. I don’t want to go to a new school, and Katie won’t be next door.’ Then she burst into noisy tears.

His heart breaking for her, Cal scrambled out of the car, lifted her out of her booster seat and carried her inside the cottage, where he gently deposited her on the sofa. After locating a packet of tissues, he sat next to her and held her until she was all cried out.

It took a while.

With a damp patch on his shirt and an ache in his chest, he tried to help her look on the bright side of the move. Which wasn’t easy, because he couldn’t see any bright side to it, either. Instead of being five minutes away, Bonnie would be a thirty-minute drive away, which meant he would see even less of his daughter than he currently did.

Tara looked up as the studio door opened and was surprised to see a girl of about eight or nine step inside. She was on her own, but Tara guessed that a responsible adult would be nearby, so with a quick ‘Hello’, she returned to her task.

She was fitting mullioned windows to a Tudor-style house, and inserting the tiny pieces of Perspex was fiddly.

‘Is it hard to make a doll’s house?’ the child asked.

Tara glanced up again. ‘It can be.’

‘Can anyone have a go?’

‘Yes, but you might need some help when you’re starting out.’

‘Will you be running a workshop?’

Tara blinked, surprised that the little girl knew about such things. Then again, Tara reasoned, the child may well have attended one here in the past.

‘I might,’ she replied cautiously. It was something to be considered for the future, but not right now. She wanted to get her feet under the table first and, let’s face it, she hadn’t been here a week yet.

‘Are all the doll’s houses different?’

‘Yes and no. I have several standard designs, like that one.’ Tara got up, walked towards the counter and pointed to the most basic model she produced.

As she grew nearer, she could see the little girl more clearly. Gosh, she was a pretty little thing, Tara thought. Her hair was the colour of a chestnut, and she had translucent skin with a dash of freckles across her nose and hazel eyes almost the same colour as her hair.

‘Are you here with anyone?’ she asked, wondering where the child’s responsible adult was and whether they were looking for her.

‘My dad. He works here. He’s the boss.’

‘Oh?’ Tara’s eyes widened.

‘I’m Bonnie.’

‘Yes, you are.’ Wow, the child was precocious as well as pretty.

The girl gave her a long-suffering look. ‘It’s my name. ’

‘Ah.’

‘What’s yours?’

‘Tara.’

‘Like the princess in the story.’

What princess and what story, Tara wondered, but wasn’t interested enough to ask.

Bonnie continued, her head tilted to the side, ‘You were telling me about the doll’s house?’

‘So I was. This is a basic house. I make loads of those, so you could say that they are all the same, apart from the colour. But, when people buy them, they like to add their own touches, so no two will have the same wallpaper or the same curtains, for instance.’

‘Like the way my house and my friend’s house look different inside, even though she lives next door?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I hope you will run a workshop, because if you do, I’d like to have a go.’

‘You’d better check with your dad. What’s his name?’

‘Cal.’

Ah, yes, the estate’s manager, whom she had yet to meet. She hoped he was as nice as everyone else she’d met so far.

‘What’s that one?’ Bonnie asked, pointing to the house Tara was currently working on. It was the commissioned piece.

‘Sometimes people ask me to make a special doll’s house, one that looks exactly like the house they used to live in as a child, or a house that has very special memories for them.’

Bonnie was listening intently.

‘I’ll either go visit the house and take lots of measurements and photos so I can make sure that the one I make looks exactly like it, or the customer takes their own photos and sends them to me.’

‘Do you make everything ?’

‘I try to.’

‘What about…?’ Bonnie looked around for inspiration. ‘A mug?’

‘Yes.’ Tara followed her gaze to the mug on the workbench.

‘A hairdryer?’

‘Yes.’

‘A jewellery box?’

Tara smiled. ‘Yes, but let’s not name everything you can think of, eh? Otherwise we’ll be here all day and all night too, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy missing my lunch and my supper.’

‘What’s the time?’

Tara checked. ‘Twelve thirty.’

‘I’m hungry.’ Bonnie skipped to the door. ‘Thank you for telling me about your doll’s houses.’

‘Thank you for asking,’ Tara said with a smile, thinking what an absolutely delightful child she was. Her parents must be so proud. If she was ever lucky enough to have a daughter, she would be honoured to have one as lovely and as inquisitive as her.