Chapter 19
Tara glowed. She knew she did, because she could see it whenever she caught her reflection in the mirror. She could even spot the glow in the door of her portable oven (an essential piece of kit to dry polymer clay models) and in the window of her studio. Which meant that other people could see it too.
When he’d kissed her before sneaking back to his cottage, the grin on Cal’s face had been brighter than the sun that had just peeped over the hillside behind the castle. Tara hoped he’d managed to dim the wattage down a bit before people started talking. She, for one, wasn’t prepared for anyone to know just yet. Their relationship was too new, and she wanted to keep it to herself and savour it for a while, to get used to it.
She still couldn’t believe yesterday had actually happened. And for Cal to tell her that he loved her… She hugged herself with joy. Never in a million years did she imagine that moving to Skye would rekindle a love she’d thought was lost forever.
Tara had never felt so happy.
The only midges in the ointment were her mother and Bonnie. Tara was fairly confident Bonnie wouldn’t be a problem because they got on so well, and she was hopeful her mum would come around to the idea of Cal being in her daughter’s life once more when she saw how happy he made her. Tara suspected she’d get a fair bit of flak before her mother accepted the situation though, which was a perfectly good reason not to tell her just yet. She would wait a while before she mentioned anything, so Mum wouldn’t think it was a flash in the pan. Cal also didn’t want to make their relationship public just now because Bonnie had enough going on in her young life without adding another thing for her to deal with, and Tara had to respect that. They had all the time in the world for his daughter to become used to having Tara around. There was no point in rushing things.
Cal had suggested the three of them get out, as he was looking after Bonnie this week and next now that school had broken up, so Tara was taking tomorrow off to visit somewhere called the Fairy Pools. It sounded magical and she was looking forward to it, apart from one thing: the words ‘bathing costume’ and ‘wild swimming’ had been mentioned in the same sentence.
Tara was no expert, but even she was aware that the rivers and streams on Skye were flipping freezing, and a quick search on the internet had confirmed her fears. Those pools were going to be cold. There was no way Cal would persuade her to dip her toe in, let alone immerse herself fully. Anyway, there was rain forecast for tomorrow, so the only part of her that would be exposed to the elements would be her nose.
Tara came up for air, her scalp aching from the near-freezing
temperature of the crystal clear water, and let out a gasp. Cal was
bobbing beside her, looking utterly unaffected by the icy pool. Bonnie,
who was doggy-paddling beside him, didn’t appear to be overly affected
either, and Tara concluded that they must be made of sterner stuff.
Despite the crushing cold that invaded her bones, she felt remarkably alive and invigorated. But maybe it was the onset of hypothermia. Hadn’t she read somewhere that victims of hypothermia could begin to feel warm?
‘Swim through the arch with me, Tara,’ Bonnie demanded, before disappearing beneath the surface like a seal and heading towards an underwater rock formation.
‘I’m getting out,’ Tara stammered, her teeth chattering so hard she was scared she would shatter a tooth.
Cal called, ‘There are towels in my rucksack,’ as she scrambled awkwardly out of the water.
Her skin was almost as blue as the pool and was dotted with goosebumps. Why, oh why, had she agreed to this? She would have been quite content to watch from the relative warmth of the bank, fully clothed and possibly with a cup of hot tea in her hands. But she’d had to rise to the challenge, hadn’t she?
As she struggled to strip off her sodden swimming costume with one hand whilst holding the towel around her with the other, she had to admit that wild swimming in one of Skye’s most famous locations had been an experience, and one she would never forget. Or repeat. Once was enough, but at least she could boast that she’d done it.
Still clutching the towel in a death-like grip, Tara managed to drag on her clothes, finally starting to feel a tad warmer, so she was on hand to help Bonnie get dressed when the girl emerged from the pool. Cal, the daft so-and-so, was big enough to take care of himself.
With all three of them finally dry and the wet costumes and towels stashed back in Cal’s rucksack, he took out the large flask she’d been eyeing up. When he unscrewed the lid, an enticing aroma of hot chocolate wafted up her nose.
She would enjoy that – if she was able to stop shivering for long enough to hold the cup.
‘Did you see me swim through the arch, Tara?’ Bonnie asked, a film of chocolate-coloured liquid coating her upper lip. She licked it away as Cal plonked a knitted hat on her head.
‘I did,’ Tara said. ‘I can’t believe the pool was deep enough to swim in.’
She hadn’t been able to touch the bottom with her toes, although she’d been able to see it. The water was as clear as glass and an unbelievable shade of turquoise blue. The Fairy Pools had been carved out by a burn flowing through the glen and cutting into the rock. The water itself came from the semicircle of mountains at the head of a wide glacial valley formed during the last ice age – so Cal had informed her on the relatively gentle walk up the hill from the car park.
The water gushed down the hillside in fast-flowing icy torrents, creating a series of waterfalls and pools in the rock. It was certainly a land of magic and fairies, and Cal had kept Bonnie and Tara entertained by recounting an old legend of selkies who were supposed to be people who’d been lost at sea. When the moon was full, they would transform back into human form, becoming mortal for just one night, and would walk from the sea to the pools to swim.
Tara thought that if she was a selkie and could be human for one night, she’d be buggered if she’d want to do any more swimming. But she supposed that toasting one’s toes beside a roaring fire and scoffing a nice bowl of pasta wouldn’t make such a good story.
‘Shall we head off to Glenbrittle beach, or have the pair of you had enough of water?’ Cal asked.
Bonnie, unsurprisingly, was all for the beach.
Tara had a condition. ‘Only if you promise not to make me go in the sea.’
‘I didn’t make you go in the pool,’ Cal pointed out.
‘You did . You called me chicken. That’s as good as pushing someone in.’
‘I thought Tara was very brave,’ Bonnie said loyally. ‘It was really cold, Dad.’ She finished her hot chocolate and gave him the plastic mug back.
As they’d been sitting there, the noise of the waterfall filling their ears, several people had stopped to take selfies with the pool in the background, and one or two intrepid souls had also taken a dip. All of them had emerged triumphant and more than a little shell-shocked.
Tara began to feel rather smug. She also felt recharged, as though every cell in her body had absorbed the energy of that wild, tumbling burn. Every inch of her felt alive and tingling, and when Cal slipped his hand briefly into hers as Bonnie scampered ahead of them on the trail back to the car, she said, ‘Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve loved every minute.’
‘And I love you!’ His lips brushed fleetingly across her mouth, and then he moved away, jogging to catch up with his exuberant daughter.
‘I love you, too,’ she whispered back, knowing he was unable to hear but wanting to say the words anyway. She would tell him again tonight when Bonnie had gone back to her mother, and Tara had Cal all to herself again.
The beach at Glenbrittle wasn’t what one usually thought of when the word ‘beach’ was mentioned, as it was a grey colour due to its volcanic sand.
Cal had brought Bonnie and Tara here because this was where the River Brittle discharged into the sea, and the burn they’d swum in was one of its tributaries. The beach also had a great cafe, and they could all do with some food.
He was starving. The water had been damned cold, although he hadn’t admitted to Tara how chilled he’d been. He must have used a thousand calories just to stop his limbs from seizing up. To say he was impressed with Tara was an understatement. He didn’t think he would persuade her to go in, but she’d surprised him.
Bonnie had been impressed by Tara, too. Yvaine would never have made it as far as the Fairy Pools, let alone go for a swim in them, and Cal knew it grated on his ex-wife’s nerves that Bonnie was an outdoorsy child, and not the pretty dresses and pink bows daughter that Yvaine wanted her to be.
By the time the car reached the beach, the mountains and waterfalls had given way to fields and a more sedate river.
Cal had expected the car park to be busy – the whole of Skye was busy at this time of year – but he managed to find a parking space, and they slipped through the kissing gate to make their way along the lane running parallel to the beach and to the cafe beyond. He’d been here once before, in the early days of trying to get a feel for the island he’d found himself living on, and he remembered the food being excellent.
Faced with a choice of soup, goat cheese, tomato and basil torte, spicy Mexican bean rolls, or a cauliflower and roasted chickpea pastie, Tara couldn’t decide. Neither could Bonnie, so Cal suggested they all have the soup (lentil, carrot and coriander), which came with a roll, and also order one of everything else, so they could each have a taste.
After they’d eaten, Bonnie wanted another hot chocolate – apparently the one the cafe served was much better than his – while he and Tara settled for coffee.
‘Can we go play on the beach, Dad?’ Bonnie asked as soon as her tummy was full.
Cal smiled indulgently. He’d brought a ball, a bucket and a net for that very purpose, although he couldn’t remember whether there were any rock pools at the end of the horseshoe beach to dabble in.
Tara proved to be rather good at kicking a ball about and was brilliant in goal, deflecting enough of Bonnie’s shots that the child didn’t think Tara was deliberately letting her score a goal.
Two hours later, with the beach and the mouth of the river thoroughly explored, Cal called it a day. Yvaine would be expecting him to drop Bonnie off soon, as his fatherly duties didn’t include having his daughter overnight this week, so it was time they made a move.
Bless her, Bonnie fell asleep on the journey back, her head lolling, allowing Cal and Tara to exchange steamy glances. He was careful not to say anything though, in case his daughter wasn’t as deeply asleep as he thought.
‘Do you mind if we drop Bonnie off on the way?’ he asked when they were a mile or so outside the village. It seemed silly to drive back to the castle to drop Tara off, then have to turn around and go back into the village again.
‘Of course not.’ She sat up straighter, and he wondered whether it was because she might see Yvaine. Not for the first time, Cal wondered how she felt about his ex-wife living in the same village. One day he would ask, but not today.
Cal pulled up a short distance beyond the house, so Yvaine wouldn’t have a clear view of the person in the passenger seat. Knowing Yvaine, she probably wouldn’t notice, so uninterested was she in anything to do with his life. Unless it involved her directly (him not being able to have Bonnie when she wanted him to, for instance) Yvaine couldn’t care less.
It used to rankle, but today he was glad of it. He didn’t need her asking awkward questions with Bonnie in earshot.
Bonnie reached forward to give Tara a hug, and then she was out of the car and running towards the house. Cal followed quickly, his daughter’s backpack dangling from his hand.
She barrelled through the door, yelling for her mother, and Yvaine appeared, looking preoccupied.
‘Mum, we’ve been to the Fairy Pools and then we went to the beach, and we had soup and pasties, and I swam through the arch, and Tara—’
‘Calm down, Bonnie. You can tell me all about your day in a minute. Take your bag upstairs and get changed.’
Cal handed the bag to Bonnie, who threw herself at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely day!’ she cried. ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’
Yvaine met his eyes. ‘If that’s OK? Can you fetch her, instead of me dropping her off? I’ve got to be in Portree by nine. I need to have a word with the builders. You won’t believe the day I’ve had.’ She rubbed the back of her hand across her brow.
‘I’ll pick her up at seven-thirty,’ he said. ‘Make sure she wears old clothes as she’s signed up for the junior pottery workshop.’
Yvaine rolled her eyes.
Cal didn’t react. Yvaine was jealous that Bonnie loved spending time at the castle. If it had been one of her Portree friends who was offering to help Bonnie make a pot, Yvaine would have been much more enthusiastic.
‘If you don’t want her to take part, I suggest you tell her,’ he said, knowing full well that she wouldn’t.
He didn’t bother saying goodbye, hearing the door close firmly behind him as he walked away. By the time he reached the car, he’d forgotten his ex-wife. His mind was wholly on Tara. They had a full evening ahead of them, and all he wanted to do was to take her to bed and make love to her until dawn.