Chapter 12
Cal seriously didn’t want to go knocking on Tara’s door this morning, but Mhairi had informed him that Tara was expecting a tour of the castle and that he was the person who would be showing her around because Avril, who was supposed to be doing it, was busy. Cal couldn’t help wondering what Avril was so busy with that she couldn’t spare an hour, but he didn’t bother to argue – what Mhairi wanted, Mhairi got. The woman was a Rottweiler, despite her granny-like appearance and genteel demeanour.
As he made his way to the boathouse, Cal felt apprehensive. Tara was expecting Avril, and he guessed she mightn’t be pleased to find that he had been roped in as a substitute.
As he suspected, when Tara saw who was at her door, she didn’t look thrilled.
‘I know you were expecting Avril, but she’s otherwise engaged,’ Cal leapt in before Tara could say anything. ‘Mhairi asked me to step in. Is that OK?’
She was glaring at him, so he assumed not.
When she said, ‘I suppose Mhairi knows about us, too? I had a rather embarrassing conversation with Jinny yesterday,’ he knew that she most definitely wasn’t.
Cal thought it best to front it out, and he put a confused expression on his face as he said, ‘Was it supposed to be a secret?’
‘Well, no, but…’ Tara faltered, then she appeared to rally. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d want it to be common knowledge, considering.’
‘Considering what?’
‘What you did.’
‘We broke up. People break up all the time. It’s hardly anything to be ashamed of.’
That seemed to take the wind out of Tara’s sails. ‘Shall we get on? I haven’t got all day.’
‘Are you sure you want to do this today? You could wait for Avril to be free.’ Even as he said it, Cal had a feeling Avril was never going to be free. He had a suspicion Mhairi was forcing him and Tara together so they could learn to play nice and get along. He also had the feeling that he and Tara might regret it if they didn’t. Mhairi didn’t like being thwarted, and if she felt that her happy family of a workforce was threatened, he had no doubt she would lay down the law.
‘Let’s get it over with,’ Tara sighed. She seemed resigned.
‘It’s not root canal, you know.’ He was trying not to smile at the sight of the two little lines dissecting her brow and the disgruntled jut of her chin. How many times had he seen her wearing the same expression and it had always made him smile.
‘It may as well be,’ she muttered as she went back inside, leaving him to hover on the doorstep.
Whilst he waited for her to return, he hoped Tara would be able to put aside her obvious dislike of him. If she didn’t, it was going to make working together difficult. Admittedly, he didn’t need to have a great deal of contact with her day-to-day but, damn it, he didn’t want to have to slink around trying to avoid her either. He had enough going on right now with Yvaine’s move to Portree, without the added pressure that Tara’s presence was causing.
Why did she have to come to Coorie Castle? Surely there were other places she could have gone.
But if she had, a voice in his head pointed out, she wouldn’t be walking towards you now, looking more beautiful than you’ve ever seen her look, and making your heart do somersaults .
He’d been trying to ignore the nagging inner voice, because it kept trying to tell him that the love he’d once had for her hadn’t disappeared. It was still there, and burying it underneath a decade of life hadn’t made it go away.
The realisation was akin to being hit with a wrecking ball.
Cal was still in love with her.
There, he’d admitted it. He had never stopped loving her.
Now all he had to do was hide it from everyone, and especially from Tara herself, who hadn’t forgiven him for the way he had treated her, who was obvious in her dislike of him, and who didn’t want anything to do with him. But, most importantly, he had to hide it from his daughter. He’d promised her he wouldn’t have a girlfriend, and although the promise was easy to keep, Cal didn’t want Bonnie to suspect he had feelings for anyone. It would be too unsettling for her, especially with the forthcoming move.
Cal said very little on the short walk to the castle and Tara seemed equally happy to remain silent. But once inside the impressive grand entrance, he had no choice.
‘Coorie Castle dates from 1278 and possibly even before that,’ he began. ‘The first structure was built on the site of an earlier fortress. It was originally a series of four interconnected towers, encircled by a huge wall.’ As he spoke, he wasn’t concentrating on what he was saying, the words flowing effortlessly as he knew the castle’s history by heart. His attention was on the woman by his side as he guided her through room after room.
After thoroughly exploring the ground floor, he led her up the sweeping staircase. Portraits hung on the walls, the people in them staring down with stern, forbidding expressions.
‘Are all these Mhairi’s ancestors?’ she asked, pausing when she came to a painting of a gentleman with a particularly grim countenance.
‘None of them are. Her grandfather bought the castle lock, stock and barrel in 1893 for a song, when Laird Meighan ran up huge gambling debts and was forced to sell the estate. Tandy Gray didn’t do a lot with it, but his son, Mhairi’s father, turned it around and made it profitable again. He was a wealthy shipping magnate and was able to throw money at it to restore the castle. However, by the time Mhairi inherited it, the money had all but dried up. Faced with handing it over to the National Trust or selling it, Mhairi used the last of the money to turn the sheds and outbuildings into a craft centre. The rest is history.’ He paused by a door. ‘Do you want to see one of the guest bedrooms?’
A hint of pink spread across her cheeks. ‘Yes, please.’
‘This one is unoccupied,’ he said, taking an old-fashioned key out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open.
‘It’s lovely!’ she exclaimed, as she entered the spacious room.
It had high ceilings and panelled walls painted a pale green, with light flooding in from the large window, and a view of the loch beyond. But it was the four-poster bed that caught Tara’s eye, Cal noticed.
‘Wow, fancy spending the night in this!’ she cried, running a hand down one of the green and gold drapes which were tied to each post.
The image that leapt into his mind made his heart skip a beat, but thinking about Tara naked on the bed wasn’t going to do either of them any favours, least of all him.
‘Are all the bedrooms as lovely as this one?’ she asked.
‘Yes, they’re all much of a muchness.’
‘How can you be so blasé? Or are you so used to it, that you don’t see it anymore?’
‘I’m not used to it at all,’ he said. ‘I live in a humble cottage, remember?’
‘Yet you are surrounded by this every day. If I were you, I wouldn’t be able to stop admiring it. The castle is simply gorgeous.’
It was, but it wasn’t as gorgeous as Tara. Her face shone and her eyes were alight with wonder. It was a far cry from the expression she usually wore whenever she saw him now.
She used to look at him with love and, once upon a time, it was the only thing he’d lived for…
Tara had taken several photos as she was being shown around the castle, and in the beginning he assumed she was doing what most visitors did, taking photos as a memento, but gradually it occurred to him that she was storing up material for future – or maybe even current – projects.
She confirmed his suspicion that her mind was on work when she asked, ‘When are you going to get those photos and measurements to me?’ It took him a second or two to realise she was talking about his request that she make a doll’s house for Bonnie.
‘I, um, I haven’t managed to get around to it yet. There’s a bit of a—’ The ping of an incoming message interrupted him mid-sentence and he reached for his phone with relief. ‘Excuse me, I’d better see who it is.’
It was Yvaine, and the message was short and to the point.
FYI the house has gone on the market today. Bonnie knows.
Great, that’s all he needed right now.
How is she? he replied.
Not pleased. She’ll get over it.
Yes, she would , Cal thought, but wouldn’t it be better for their daughter not to have to ‘get over it’ in the first place? Sometimes he didn’t understand Yvaine. He knew she loved their daughter more than anything, but now and again she came across as dismissive of Bonnie’s feelings. Or did she take his concern as being judgemental of her parenting skills? She always had a tendency to go on the defensive.
‘Bad news?’ Tara was studying him.
‘Put it this way, it’s not the news I was hoping for.’
Properties in Duncoorie didn’t come on the market often, and when they did they were quickly snapped up. He didn’t anticipate Yvaine’s house lingering for long. It was a pity that Tara’s house in Edinburgh hadn’t been sold yet, because she might have been interested.
Or maybe not. It would be more than weird to have his first love live in the house that had once belonged to his ex-wife. Or it might be beyond Tara’s budget, or she mightn’t like it when she saw it.
Cal paused, an idea beginning to form. ‘A house in Duncoorie has just come on the market. Would you be interested in taking a look?’
‘I’ve not had a chance to put it on the website yet,’ the estate agent said, as Tara walked up the drive to meet him. ‘Mrs Fraser was delighted to have a viewing so soon. Shall we go inside?’
‘Please.’ Tara plastered a smile on her face, feeling awkward.
It was true that she intended to buy a property, and she was aware that houses didn’t come up for sale in Duncoorie very often, but it felt surreal to enter the house belonging to Cal’s ex-wife. She wasn’t convinced she wanted to buy it for that very reason.
However, she was curious, and teamed with Calan’s stilted and reluctant explanation that it would be a good idea for her to get the feel of the place and take some measurements and photos whilst she was there, because Yvaine would be too busy to take them herself, she’d agreed to arrange a viewing with the agent who was handling the sale.
‘You have a property in Edinburgh, is that right?’ the man asked.
‘Yes. It’s already on the market. I’ve relocated to the island and am looking for a permanent home here.’
He pushed open the front door and gestured for her to go inside. ‘This is the hall,’ he said, unnecessarily. ‘As you can see, it’s a bright and welcoming first impression, and it benefits from storage space under the stairs and a radiator.’
‘I’m going to take some photos, if that’s OK.’ She didn’t wait for his consent, taking out her phone and snapping away. She also had one of those laser measurement thingies, so she got that out too.
The agent gave her a suspicious look.
Tara had an explanation prepared. ‘I’ve got some quite large pieces of furniture – family heirlooms – that need to be accommodated,’ she said. ‘I need to make sure they’ll fit into whatever property I buy.’
The man didn’t look impressed, but neither did he make a comment, and Tara guessed he’d heard it all before. However, she didn’t want to explain why she was being so precise, in case he didn’t think she was a serious buyer and asked her to leave. She was a serious buyer – she just didn’t think she could be serious about buying this particular property, even though it was exactly what she was looking for.
Structurally, Yvaine’s house was a replica of Jinny’s next door, but that was where the similarity started and stopped.
Jinny’s house was a home.
Yvaine’s house was a photo in a lifestyle magazine. It was immaculate and incredibly stylish, but as far as Tara was concerned, it lacked soul. The decor was tasteful, in various shades of white, linen and biscuit, the cushions were plumped to within an inch of their lives, there wasn’t one personal item on display, and even the books on the coffee table were arranged in an artful stack. The ornaments dotted around the room looked as though they had been chosen purely to dress the house for sale.
The kitchen was equally as devoid of heart, and the master bedroom and guest bedroom were just as sterile. The only room with any character was Bonnie’s. It looked as though an explosion had taken place, with clothes and toys scattered everywhere. Tara wondered whether Yvaine hadn’t got around to tidying her daughter’s room, or whether she’d asked Bonnie to do it and Bonnie had ignored her.
The agent seemed a little put out at the state of the room. ‘The vendor has a young child,’ he explained, ‘but I’m sure you can see beyond the personal items and realise that this is a generously proportioned room. One could easily fit a double bed in here, or two singles. Along with the third bedroom, the property is an ideal size for a family.’
‘It will just be me, I’m afraid.’
The estate agent rallied quickly. ‘Plenty of room for entertaining, and the smaller bedroom could be turned into a lovely office.’
‘I think I’ve seen enough,’ Tara said.
‘Is the property of interest? Or maybe I could arrange to show you around one of the others on our books?’
‘No thanks, this is perfect.’
He beamed at her. ‘You’ve got my number if you’d like to make an offer. I suggest you be quick though, as I don’t anticipate it being on the market for long.’
‘Neither do I,’ she replied honestly. It was a lovely house and Tara could imagine how much nicer it could be with the addition of some personal touches. She added, ‘However, I intend to wait for an offer on my own property before I put an offer in on this one.’
His beaming smile lost some wattage. ‘I see.’ He ushered her outside. ‘As I said, you’ve got my number. Please call if you have any questions.’
‘I will. Thank you for showing me around.’
Tara lingered for a few minutes more, taking photos of the outside, and when she was done, she made her way back to the castle.
As she walked, she decided she needed to speak to Calan before going any further with this commission, because she had a feeling that the house she had photographed today was a far cry from the house Bonnie called home.