Chapter 11
‘You look tired, my dear,’ was Mhairi Gray’s opening gambit as she entered Tara’s studio four days later.
Tara was standing by the window, debating whether to change the display. If she did, she’d be doing it more for herself than anyone else, because the visitors to the centre were primarily tourists so they would visit once, then move on to the many other attractions that Skye had to offer.
‘Are you not sleeping?’ Mhairi asked.
‘Had a bit of a restless night,’ Tara admitted. Every night seemed to be restless lately.
‘You have my sympathies. I don’t sleep well myself, but that’s because I’m old. What’s your excuse?’
‘I, er, don’t know.’
‘I thought I’d pop along and see how you are settling in.’ Mhairi’s eyes darted everywhere. ‘And I wanted to have a proper look at your lovely doll’s houses.’ Her gaze came to rest on a selection of photographs pinned to the corkboard. ‘Oh my, that looks remarkably like the inside of a funeral parlour.’
‘It is.’
‘You’re not going to…?’
‘I am, although I’m not sure I want to make all the little details.’
‘Gosh. Is that something you do on a regular basis?’ The old lady looked faintly alarmed.
Tara didn’t blame her – she was faintly alarmed herself. ‘It’s a first for me,’ she said, ‘and if I’m honest, I hope it’s the last. It has given me the idea of producing some Halloween miniatures, though. Just a few, to see how they go.’
‘I know you said that all your sales are online, but I’ve noticed you are selling through the gift shop.’
Tara brightened. ‘I am. I didn’t think I’d do much – I mean, how many people come on holiday and go home with a doll’s house? But the smaller items appear to be going quite well.’
‘I knew they would, dear. They would sell even better if you gave them a Scottish twist. Tartan cushions and curtains, maybe? A tartan throw? Teeny weeny bottles of whisky?’
‘That’s genius! Why didn’t I think of that?’ Suddenly Tara was all fired up. ‘How about I make a crofter’s house to put centre stage in the gift shop? It’ll be a display piece only, but it would give people a taste of Highland living.’
Mhairi gave her a satisfied smile. ‘That sounds lovely. I’ll look forward to seeing it when it’s done.’ She patted Tara on the arm. ‘I won’t keep you any longer, but you know where I am if you need me.’ As she turned to the door she hesitated. ‘By the way, I can’t remember if I showed you around the castle?’
‘No, you didn’t, but I’d love to have a tour.’
‘I’ll ask Avril to arrange it. Seeing photos on the website isn’t the same as seeing it in person.’
Tara wholeheartedly agreed. She often wished she could view the houses she’d been asked to commission, but it wasn’t always possible due to the distances involved. Tara accepted commissions from all over the UK, and from abroad once, so it wasn’t feasible to take a look in person at the buildings she had been asked to model.
She glanced at the corkboard, feeling thankful in this instance. She had no desire to have a guided tour of a funeral home. Seeing it in miniature was bad enough.
Deciding to stop faffing about and leave the perfectly fine window display as it was, Tara perched on her stool and opened her laptop. It was time to work out exactly how the funeral parlour was going to fit together.
Eating lunch in the cafe was becoming a habit – an expensive and
waistline thickening habit – but the food was so good there that Tara
was finding it difficult to resist. Not only that, going to the cafe
meant she was forced to take a break and stretch her legs, even if the
walk was short. And there was the added attraction of having a chat with
Gillian, if she wasn’t too busy.
Today wasn’t one of the ‘not too busy’ days. There was quite a queue waiting to be served, and all the tables inside were taken. After Tara finally gave her order over the counter, she wandered outside to sit on one of the picnic benches and enjoy the sun and the view of the loch.
It was four days since she’d watched Calan row to the other side of it, and she hadn’t seen him since, making her wonder whether he was deliberately avoiding her. She wished he wouldn’t. Expecting to bump into him at any moment was proving to be worse than actually bumping into him. So much for her theory that she’d get used to seeing him around.
A shadow fell over her and she jumped, expecting it to be Cal, but she calmed when she realised it was Jinny.
‘Do you mind if I join you? I had to get out of the shop for a bit. Honestly, some people can be so rude! I’ve just had a woman ask if “this lot” is made in China. Doesn’t she know what craft centre means? Even if she didn’t, you would think she would have noticed all the crafters hard at work making stuff.’ Jinny blew her fringe out of her eyes. ‘Sorry, I just needed to vent. Sometimes people are just too peopley.’
‘Peopley?’
‘It’s a word.’
‘A made-up one?’
‘It might be.’
‘I’ve got the opposite problem – not enough people-ing.’
Jinny gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘It can’t be easy moving into a new area. Avril tells me you’re from Edinburgh. Is that where your family are?’
‘I’m originally from Glasgow but moved to Edinburgh when I got married.’ Tara noticed Jenny looking at her left hand. ‘We’ve just got divorced.’ The decree absolute had come through this week.
‘I’m sorry, hen. I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘You’re not, it’s fine.’
‘Is that why you moved to Skye?’
‘Partly for a fresh start, and all that, and because properties are cheaper here. But the main reason was that as soon as I saw the craft centre, I fell in love with it. I’ve always worked out of my attic, so having my very own studio is a dream come true. The castle is lovely too, and everyone is so friendly.’
‘You didn’t want to go back to Glasgow? Ah, here’s your lunch and my coffee.’
Tara waited until she’d eaten her first mouthful before replying. ‘There’s nothing there for me now. My mum and stepdad moved to the Isle of Wight about five years ago – they run a caravan park – and I’ve drifted away from my friends.’ Tara wiped her mouth with a serviette. ‘Crumbs, that makes me sound sad and lonely, when I’m not.’
OK, she was a bit lonely, but looking back, she’d actually been lonelier when she and Dougie had still been living together. He’d worked long hours (yeah, right!), and Tara had been ensconced in her attic room like bloody Rapunzel, not seeing a soul from dusk ’til dawn, unless she had a delivery or orders to post. Being in Duncoorie and having loads of people around was a real treat. And if it became too much, she had the solitude of the boathouse to retreat to until her social battery recharged.
‘Come to tea this evening,’ Jinny suggested, and Tara immediately felt awful. She didn’t want her to think she was so pitiful that she needed to be invited to tea.
Flustered, she gabbled, ‘No, that’s fine, honestly. No need to… I’ve got stuff to be getting on with, and there’s a chicken breast that has to be used up.’ Oh, dear. As the words poured out of her mouth she knew she was making it worse.
‘It’s nothing fancy,’ Jinny continued, as though Tara hadn’t spoken. ‘Just pasta, sauce and garlic bread. The kids would love to meet you. Well, Katie would – I’ve told her all about your doll’s houses – but I’m afraid Ted isn’t as keen. Dolls and little houses aren’t his thing. My husband, Carter, won’t be in this evening, so I need a buffer between me and the kids and you’re it.’
‘Katie is nine, you said?’ The same age as Bonnie, Tara recalled.
‘That’s right, and Ted is six.’
Tara would have liked to have had children, just not with Dougie. Even on her wedding day, the thought of having a baby with Dougie didn’t even enter her head. What did that say about their relationship? About her?
An image of Calan’s russet-haired daughter sprang into her mind. If she and Cal had made a baby, would their child have looked like Bonnie?
Flippin heck! What was she thinking? Her head was in the shed these days and she blamed it on the upheaval of this past month or so. No wonder she wasn’t thinking straight.
Jinny picked up her cup and drained it. ‘See you at five thirty. My place is the third on the left after the post office. You can’t miss it.’
And with that she was gone, leaving Tara to finish her lunch.
Calan was walking towards the castle from the direction of the maze, when he decided to take a gander at the rear of the craft complex. One side of it faced the loch and got most of the weather, especially when a storm blew in from the sea, so he wanted to have a quick scan of the roof to check for loose slates. He highly doubted any had come loose since the last time he’d checked, but there was a cold front moving in overnight bringing rain and squally wind, breaking the run of nice weather Skye had enjoyed these past few weeks.
Although the dry, sunny weather was brilliant for tourism, Cal loved the wild stuff. In his opinion, little could beat a walk along the shoreline when it was howling a gale, or being tucked up snug and cosy in front of a roaring fire when it was lashing it down outside.
He’d just rounded the corner and was thinking with satisfaction that the cafe looked busy, when he spied Tara sitting at an outside table. She was side-on to him and staring across the loch, her chin resting on her hand.
He halted abruptly, then turned on his heel and went back the way he’d come.
‘Forgotten something?’ the castle’s head gardener, Paul, called as Cal hurried past.
Cal didn’t answer, giving the man a vague smile and a wave instead, feeling ridiculous. This couldn’t go on. He tried to foster a reputation of being friendly and approachable, someone they could come to if they had a problem or wanted advice or a helping hand. He didn’t so much regard himself as their boss, but more as a friend and a colleague. After all, they were in this together and they all wanted the castle and the craft centre to succeed. Mhairi kept insisting that they were one big, happy family and she was right. But if he kept avoiding Tara or not being himself around her, sooner or later someone would notice and the gossip would start. It occurred to him that Jinny already had, remembering her speculative expression at the pub the other evening. Maybe it would be better not to hide the fact that he and Tara had once had a relationship, but mention it casually so it didn’t seem like a big deal. And he knew exactly who to mention it to.
‘Looking good, as always,’ he said, when he entered the gift shop, his eyes roving over the racks and shelves.
‘Me or the shop?’ Jinny joked.
‘You, of course,’ he replied gallantly. Jinny was an attractive woman who always looked lovely.
‘Thought so,’ she smirked, before becoming serious. ‘It is, isn’t it.’
His attention settled on the doll’s houses and the accompanying display. ‘Tara’s work fits in well. Have you seen her recently? She’s not in her studio.’
‘She was having lunch at the cafe just now.’
‘I won’t interrupt her then. No doubt I’ll catch up with her later,’ he said, making no move to leave. ‘How do you think she’s settling in?’
‘OK, I guess. I get the feeling she’s lonely. She doesn’t know a soul here and—’
‘She does,’ Cal interrupted, seizing his chance. ‘She knows me .’
Jinny tilted her head to the side. ‘What do you mean?’
‘We were at Glasgow uni together.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Did you know her well?’
‘We dated for a while.’ He was doing his best to sound nonchalant, as though it hadn’t meant anything.
‘Tara didn’t say.’
What Cal had hoped was a self-deprecating laugh, came out rather strained. ‘She probably doesn’t remember.’
‘Bull poop! Of course she remembers.’ Jinny pursed her lips. ‘I thought I could sense a bit of tension between the two of you in the pub on Friday.’ With a stern look in her eye, she said, ‘What aren’t you telling me, Calan?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You’re hiding something.’
‘How can I be hiding anything, when I’ve just told you that we dated?’
‘Hmm,’ she said, not sounding convinced. ‘I still don’t get why she hasn’t said anything.’
‘Maybe she’s worried because I run this place.’
Jinny snorted. ‘You think you do. Mhairi’s hand is still firmly on the tiller.’
‘True, but I’m second in command.’
Jinny snapped to attention and saluted. ‘Aye, aye, sir!’
Shaking his head in mock despair, Cal said, ‘One day someone around here will take me seriously.’
‘Don’t hold your breath,’ she teased.
Cal decided it was time to go. He’d done what he’d come here to do. But as he left, he hoped he hadn’t put the cat amongst the pigeons, as he doubted Tara would thank him. But surely it was better to rip the plaster off than peel it away slowly and more painfully? There was bound to be an initial flurry of excitement when people heard the news, but it would soon die down – especially if there was no more fuel to add to the gossipy fire.
Jinny lived in a whitewashed cottage set back off the road, with planters on either side of the central doorway in full bloom and a neat lawn with pretty flower beds.
Tara didn’t have to knock. The door opened as she was halfway up the path.
Jinny looked frazzled. ‘Come in, come in. Excuse the mess. I’ve not long picked the kids up from the childminder’s and I haven’t had a chance to tidy up after this morning’s chaos.’
Tara didn’t think it looked messy at all and said so as she was ushered into the house, adding, ‘It’s lovely, so bright and welcoming.’
The sitting room was painted a pale duck egg blue, with windows front and back, letting light flood in from both ends. Two children, a boy and a girl, were sprawled on the floor, an upended tub of Lego between them.
‘Kids, say hi to Tara. Tara, this is Katie and Ted. Katie, remember me telling you that Tara makes doll’s houses?’
The boy uttered a brief ‘Hello’, his attention on the little plastic bricks, but Jinny’s daughter got to her feet. ‘Mum says they’re proper doll’s houses, not kids’ ones.’
‘She’s right. If you’re ever up at the craft centre, perhaps you might like to pop in and see them?’
‘Can I, Mum?’
‘I expect so. Now, put this lot away, wash your hands and come lay the table.’
Katie’s open expression turned into a pout. ‘Do I have to? It’s not fair, just because I’m the oldest.’
‘Ted is going to hang your school bags up and put your shoes away. He’s also going to put his stinky PE kit in the laundry basket. Or he could lay the table if you prefer, and you can sort out his PE kit.’
‘Gross!’ Katie brushed past her mother in her haste to avoid stinky PE kit duty, and Jinny and Tara followed her into the open-plan kitchen-dining area.
This was also dual aspect, with views over the loch from the dining table, and views of the mountain behind through the kitchen window. A saucepan was bubbling away on the hob, and a pan of red sauce simmered next to it. The smell of onions and garlic made Tara’s mouth water.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ Jinny asked. ‘Please say you would. It’ll give me an excuse to have one.’
Tara laughed. ‘In that case, I will, thanks.’
Jinny pointed out where the glasses were kept, and soon Tara was perched on a stool with a drink in her hand.
‘Did Cal catch up with you?’ Jinny asked. She was stirring the pan of spaghetti, but glanced at Tara as she asked the question.
Tara stiffened. She couldn’t help it, and hoped her new friend hadn’t noticed. ‘No, I haven’t seen him today,’ she replied, pleased that her voice sounded normal. ‘I must have missed him.’ She wondered what he had wanted.
‘I didn’t realise you two already knew each other. He told me you used to date when you were at uni.’ Underneath the curiosity lay a modicum of rebuke.
Tara froze, then willed herself to relax. So what if people knew? It was bound to come out sooner or later.
‘We did.’ She shrugged to show that it wasn’t a big deal. Guilt plucked at her, and she caught Jinny’s eye and pulled a face. ‘I’m surprised he remembered me. It was a long time ago.’
‘That’s strange; Cal said the same thing. You are a dark horse.’ Jinny turned her attention back to the stove. ‘Almost ready. Could you give the kids a shout for me?’
Tara was more than happy to if it meant putting an end to the conversation, and she was relieved when the subject wasn’t mentioned again. Hopefully she’d managed to persuade Jinny that her and Cal’s past relationship was no big deal. Tara could cope with people knowing they used to be an item. What she couldn’t cope with was people knowing he’d broken her heart.
Tara was cradling her second glass of wine and watching Jinny stack the dishwasher after her offer of help was refused, when Katie sauntered into the kitchen in search of a biscuit.
‘When can I see Tara’s doll’s houses, Mum?’ she asked as she rooted in a cupboard.
‘Soon,’ Jinny replied vaguely.
Tara, wanting to repay her new friend’s hospitality – and still feeling guilty for not telling her about her and Cal – said, ‘I’m probably going to run something soon. Mhairi mentioned that the craft centre puts on loads of activities for children during the summer holidays, so how about I put Katie down for it? She can be first on the list.’
Tara wasn’t sure what that activity would be yet. She’d have to look into what would be feasible. She also wanted to run an adult workshop. All the other crafters did, and visitors often stayed at the castle itself and attended more than one workshop during their stay.
If Tara thought she’d been busy before she moved to Skye, she was positively run off her feet now, and was inundated with fresh ideas and new projects that she was itching to get started on.
‘Yay!’ Katie cried. ‘I’m going to paint a picture of what I want it to look like.’
Her mother said, ‘Not this evening, you’re not. Tell Ted he can stay up until eight. You don’t need to go to bed until nine.’
Katie pouted and Jinny sent her away. ‘Scoot. Go find something to do and let the grown-ups talk. Nothing messy, mind.’ She turned to Tara and explained, ‘I can’t face cleaning up paint just before bedtime.’
Tara kept an eye on the time and made sure she left before eight o’clock and Ted’s bedtime. As the evening was still quite young, she thought she might do some work when she got back. She always started a new project with a sketch or two, using coloured pencils, and she was looking forward to sitting on the sofa in front of the picture window with the late evening sun streaming through it.
As she stood on Jinny’s doorstep, thanking her for her hospitality and promising to return the favour soon, Tara spied Bonnie getting out of a car and walking up next door’s path.
‘Is that where Bonnie lives?’ she asked, her mouth suddenly dry.
‘Yes, but not for much longer. Yvaine, Bonnie’s mum, is moving in with her partner Lenn, who lives in Portree. I’m expecting to see a “For Sale” sign go up any day now. Oh, look, there she is. Hi, Yvaine.’
Jinny waved to a woman who had just emerged from the car, and Tara’s breath caught in her throat.
Yvaine was even more beautiful in real life. With her tall, slender figure and spiky platinum hair, the photos hadn’t done her justice.
A pang of jealousy stabbed Tara in the gut, and she felt sick.
No wonder Cal had dumped her. How could she ever have competed with that?