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

Chapter 21

‘I’d better get a move on, and so had you,’ Tara said in alarm after glancing at the digital clock on Cal’s oven. She shoved a piece of toast in her mouth before stuffing her feet into her trainers.

Cal was leaning against the sink, watching her, his expression one of amusement as he watched her fumble as she made a hash of tying the laces in her haste.

She glowered at him. ‘You won’t think it funny if Paul comes looking for you. Aren’t you supposed to be checking the deer fences this morning?’

She watched his amusement fade as he realised that she was right. Tara knew Paul wouldn’t hang about waiting for him. He would come looking, and she thought it might have been more prudent for Cal to have stayed at the boathouse last night, which is what he usually did. But he’d cooked a meal for her in the cottage, and one thing had led to another…

She gave him a quick kiss, then left him to get ready while she went home for a shower. As she dried her hair, Tara realised she did think of the boathouse as home. It would be a wrench when she came to leave it, as she must do at some point, and probably sooner rather than later. Very shortly, half of the money from the sale of the Edinburgh house would be in her bank account, and then she’d have no excuse not to do some serious house searching.

Since that wonderful day when Cal had rowed her to the other side of the loch, she hadn’t been thinking about house hunting at all. She was far too happy where she was. With Cal living just up the lane, it was so easy for them to sneak into each other’s houses. That would change when she moved.

She supposed she’d better see if the house on the outskirts of the village was still on the market. If it was, she should go view it, because apart from Yvaine’s cottage, that property was the only other house for sale anywhere near Duncoorie.

She didn’t have time to check the estate agent’s website now, but she vowed to take a look after she’d finished for the day.

Skipping along the lane to the craft centre, Tara mentally ran through what she had to do today, the main thing being to run the first of the children’s model-making workshops. She’d collected loads of sturdy cardboard boxes, which would form the houses themselves, and had stacks of miniature wallpaper designs, paints, brushes and glue. It was going to be messy, but fun. Hopefully.

It was Bonnie’s idea. Tara had been considering providing pre-cut MDF boards, the same stuff she used to make her houses, but Bonnie reckoned the kids would have more fun designing their own from scratch. Bonnie and Katie were taking part in this session, so Tara hoped it went well.

It had been Cal’s turn to have Bonnie this weekend, so Tara had hardly seen him. However, with the start of a new week Cal was back to having Bonnie during the day only, so Tara and Cal were able to spend the nights together. And next week, Yvaine’s parents would take over, so things should get back to normal.

Sometimes, Tara felt like she was living a double life, but if that’s what she must do to be with Cal, so be it. Anyway, as he kept telling her, it wouldn’t be forever.

The barn was where the workshops took place. It was an enormous space

with a high vaulted ceiling, the supporting beams exposed in large arcs

overhead. The floor space had been sectioned into several areas to keep

the individual crafts separate, with a pottery section at the back

complete with a drying room, an artist’s studio, and four other rooms

containing workstations and stools.

There was also a small refreshment area to the front, supplied by the cafe when workshops were taking place, although lunch would be eaten in the cafe itself.

Today, there were several activities in the barn, ranging from pot throwing to silk painting, so it promised to be a fun day. And an exhausting one, as Tara was running a session in the morning and another in the afternoon.

Tara set everything out, dashing back and forth from her studio to the barn, making sure she had everything she needed despite double and triple checks yesterday. She couldn’t believe she was so nervous, but considering this was her first time, she supposed it was only to be expected.

Bonnie walked confidently into the barn with Katie, who also looked quite at home. Tara hoped their attitude would help put the other children at ease, most of whom had never visited the craft centre before. Parents were welcome – and encouraged – to stay, and many of them chose to do so, using the time to explore the castle and the grounds, only popping back to the barn now and again to check on their offspring.

Those parents who had decided to stay could join the children for lunch in the cafe, but Tara doubted whether she’d get a chance to grab anything to eat, as she suspected her lunchtime would be spent clearing away the debris from the morning session and preparing for the afternoon one.

Cal, bless him, had promised to cook this evening, and had even offered to give her a massage, saying she could probably do with some destressing after a day of supervising all those children. She guessed he might be speaking from experience, and an image of him trying to keep a birthday party full of kids entertained popped into her head.

To Tara’s surprise, after she’d stuttered and stammered through an explanation of what her young crafters would be doing this morning and had shown them several cardboard box houses she’d made earlier, she found she was enjoying herself. The children definitely seemed to be, and she noticed Bonnie helping Katie with her design when she was stuck for ideas.

Two and a half hours wasn’t long to produce a doll’s house, even if it was a cardboard one, but Tara was pleased with what the children had managed to achieve by the end of the session. And their parents were complimentary, too. Although the cardboard doll’s houses wouldn’t last, it gave the children a taste of what it was like to design a building, transfer that design from paper into 3D, and then assemble it.

She was stowing the last of the houses on the shelves which were dotted around the refreshment area and ensuring each house had its creator’s name on it so they could collect them at the end of the day, when Cal popped his head around the door.

‘Have you got a few minutes?’

Tara thought of the clearing up still to be done. ‘Not really.’

He stepped inside. ‘That’s a pity. I’ll just have to eat your lunch as well.’ He held aloft a couple of covered plates.

Tara’s eyes widened and her tummy rumbled at the sight of what was on them.

‘Roast vegetable, tomato and lentil bake,’ he said, ‘with new potatoes and caramelised onion sauce. No? Shall I take it away?’

‘Don’t you dare!’ she cried, and when he produced two cans of chilled ginger beer from his jacket pocket, she could have kissed him. She would have if they’d had the barn to themselves, but the other crafters were in and out like fiddler’s elbows, so she settled for devouring her food instead.

Cal pulled some cutlery from another pocket, and Tara dived in. Teaching kids to make cardboard houses was hungry work.

After they’d eaten, Cal even helped her tidy the workroom, but he left her to set up the afternoon session on her own because they were beginning to attract curious glances, especially from Giselle, the woman who made sea glass pictures.

By the end of the second session, Tara was exhausted, and she had a newfound respect for teachers. It had given her confidence though, and she felt more assured that she would be able to deliver the adult workshops when the time came.

Wearily, she packed up the tools and unused materials, made sure she left the workshop as pristine as she had found it, dumped everything in the studio, and headed home for a shower and a relaxing evening with the man she loved.

The following week was somewhat quieter, much to Tara’s relief. With

the junior craft sessions out of the way, she was able to turn her

attention to fulfilling her online orders, making new stock for the gift

shop, getting to grips with a new commission and finishing Bonnie’s

doll’s house. It was almost done, but it wasn’t quite there yet. All the

furniture was in place, but there were lots of little details yet to be

added, and Tara was quietly thankful that Yvaine’s house was so

minimalist, because it was this attention to detail that took the

time.

Along with a return to normality in her professional life, Tara’s private life had also settled down in that Bonnie’s grandparents had returned and were looking after her during the day once more. Tara missed seeing the little girl around the place, but it meant she could crack on with completing her house without fear of discovery. To top it all off, Jinny had emailed Tara last week’s sales figures, and they were the best yet. Mhairi and Cal were also privy to those figures, so when Cal popped into the studio to congratulate her, Tara was on top of the world.

‘I feel we should celebrate,’ Calan said. ‘Would you like to go out for a meal?’

Tara thought for a moment, then grinned. ‘I’d prefer a picnic.’ The weather, fickle as usual, was lovely today, sunny and warm.

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Out in the boat.’ She gave him a mischievous look, and Cal’s lips twitched.

‘I think I can arrange that. I know a nice little spot on the opposite side, where we won’t be disturbed.’

‘I did just mean a picnic,’ she warned.

‘Spoilsport. I was hoping for a repeat of some outdoor loving.’

‘I prefer your nice comfy bed.’

‘In that case, are you sure you want to bother going all the way to the other side? We could tie the skiff to the jetty and have our picnic there instead. It’ll save me having to do all that rowing.’

‘Watching you row is the best bit,’ she said cheekily.

‘Oh, well, in that case I won’t deny you the chance to ogle my rippling muscles, my firm thighs, my—’ Tara poked out her tongue, and Cal chuckled. ‘If you want to have a picnic on the other side of the loch, then that’s what we’ll do,’ he promised.

‘There’s also something else I want to do,’ she said, smirking when his face lit up, knowing what he was thinking and that she was about to burst his bubble. ‘Will you teach me to fish?’

As she predicted, his face fell. ‘You want to learn to fish this evening ?’

‘I do. We can’t spend all our time in bed.’

‘Why not?’ Cal seemed genuinely puzzled.

‘Because we’ll get bored of that eventually.’

‘I promise you I won’t,’ he replied earnestly, making her giggle.

‘We need to have some interests beyond the bedroom,’ Tara insisted.

She was serious. Cal was a man who loved the great outdoors. Tara, by way of necessity, spent most of her time indoors. She wanted to experience more of his world, to join him in it wherever possible. Besides, the exercise would do her good, and Skye was such a stunningly dramatic island it was a shame not to enjoy its natural beauty. A nice pootle across the loch, a spot of fishing, an open-air supper, and another pootle back sounded idyllic, especially if it was followed by some additional exercise under the covers. A perfect end to a perfect day.

‘You do it like this,’ Cal said, and Tara watched carefully as he

showed her how to attach the lure to the line. He passed a rod to her.

‘Your turn.’

Tara was used to fiddly things and she’d always been good with her hands. Nevertheless, she was pleased when she managed to tie it correctly the first time.

‘Brilliant. Now we have to cast the line.’ He showed her the proper technique, and she followed suit. ‘We let the lure sink, then retrieve it slowly, reeling it in steadily,’ he explained.

‘How do you know whether there are any fish down there?’ she asked, getting into the rhythm of cast, reel in, and cast again. It was surprisingly hard work.

Cal laughed. ‘You don’t. Not until you catch one. But this has always been a good place for me, although late summer and early autumn are the best time of year for pollack.’

‘Why do you bother, if you don’t keep your catch?’ She knew why he spent time on the water, but the fishing part was beyond her.

‘I enjoy the challenge.’

‘Outwitting a fish?’

‘You’d be surprised. They can be canny creatures.’

They fished in silence for a while, the peace of the late afternoon settling over them. There wasn’t a breath of air, and it was so warm Tara didn’t need the fleece she’d brought.

‘It truly is lovely and peaceful out here,’ she said after a while.

‘Make the most of it. It won’t last. It never does. You rarely get two days the same on Skye.’

Tara grinned. ‘I’ve noticed. No wonder you’re all obsessed by the weather.’

‘Summer in the morning and winter in the afternoon,’ he agreed. ‘I love the unpredictability. It makes life more interesting.’

Tara reeled her line in slowly and steadily, the way Cal had shown her. ‘How long do we give it, before calling it a day?’

‘Bored already?’

‘No, but I am hungry.’

‘Ten more minutes?’

‘OK.’

It turned out to be fifteen in the end because, on what was supposed to be her very last cast, Tara felt a tug on the line. Amidst her squeals of excitement, Cal helped her reel it in. The pollack wasn’t a particularly large specimen, but Tara was proud anyway, and held it whilst Cal took a photo. Then she gently released it over the side of the boat and watched it disappear into the depths.

‘That was brilliant!’ she cried. ‘ Now I get it. I want to do this again.’

‘We will, I promise. But not today. Do you, or do you not, want a slice of quiche?’

‘I do,’ she said, and when Cal laid out their picnic, Tara was impressed.

It was quite a spread. As well as the quiche, there were cherry tomatoes, a potato salad, crispy chicken and smashed avocado sandwiches, a couple of herb and feta pastry parcels, plus scones and flapjacks to finish.

‘Did you make all this yourself?’ she asked, as he poured bubbly Prosecco into plastic champagne flutes.

‘I would like to say I did, but I can’t lie. I asked Gillian to put a picnic together.’

‘She’s done a fantastic job. This is delicious.’ The flavours of the pastry parcel exploded in her mouth, and Tara closed her eyes in bliss as she chewed.

When she opened them, it was to find Cal gazing at her. ‘I love you, Tara. I always have.’

His words made her heart melt. ‘I love you, too.’

She thought he was going to kiss her as he leant forward, but it was to brush a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

‘Eat up,’ he urged. ‘I want to get you back home and make love to you.’

Tara ate, but she didn’t rush her food. She wanted the moment to last, to savour it the way she was savouring this delicious picnic. After all, they had all night in which to make love.

After they’d finished eating, Tara helped Cal pack the remains of their meal into the wicker basket and stow it on the boat, then she got in, taking her customary perch on the middle bench.

Cal was about to push off when he said, ‘Would you like to steer?’

‘No, thanks! Rowing looks hard work.’

‘I wasn’t planning on rowing back. I want to save my strength.’ He lowered the outboard motor into the water and leered at her. ‘It’ll get us back quicker, too.’

Tara rolled her eyes. ‘Go on, then. I’ll give it a try, but don’t blame me if we hit something.’

‘We won’t.’

Tara wished she had his confidence, but hers grew the nearer they came to the jetty, although she did insist on Cal taking charge of the steering before they reached the beach because she was worried the boat might run aground.

‘There’s no chance of that,’ he explained, cutting the motor and lifting it out of the water to let the boat drift gently to the shore.

She even jumped into the shallows to help him drag it up the beach and was surprised at how light the vessel was.

Despite only having been on the loch for about three hours, Tara felt as though she’d had a full day out. She was tired, covered in a fine coating of salt from the spray, and deliriously happy.

‘I need a shower,’ she declared, tasting the salt on her lips. Her hair was also sticky with it.

‘Have one at mine,’ Cal suggested when she made to walk towards the boathouse. ‘My shower is big enough for two.’

‘So it is.’ And as she strolled hand in hand with Cal towards his cottage, she couldn’t help feeling blessed and incredibly thankful. Not many people had a second chance at first love.

What was that noise? Cal opened one eye and felt around for his phone. It wasn’t in its customary spot on the nightstand, so he had no way of telling the time. However, he knew it was morning because light streamed in around the bedroom curtains.

The noise came again, and he realised there was someone at the door.

Tara stirred next to him, and he eased his arm out from underneath her, wincing as it began to tingle.

‘Whassa time?’ she murmured.

‘No idea.’ He sat up.

‘Whossat?’

‘Don’t know, but I’d better answer it before they break the door down.’

Grabbing a pair of shorts, he drew them on and reached for a T-shirt, pulling it over his head as he hurried downstairs.

‘About time!’ Yvaine exclaimed as he opened the door, and Cal stepped back in surprise. ‘I was about to go to the castle and ask if anyone knew where you were.’

Bonnie was standing next to her, clutching her rucksack to her chest.

Confused, he asked, ‘Am I supposed to have her today?’

Yvaine tutted. ‘If you’d bothered to answer your phone or check your messages, you would know that Dad’s got sickness and diarrhoea, so they can’t have her. Mum blames it on the prawns he ate yesterday. Luckily, she had the monkfish. Anyway, I’m sorry to dump Bonnie on you. I know it’s early, but I’ve got a work meeting this morning, so I’ve got no choice. You don’t mind, do you?’ She said it as though she knew he wouldn’t, and he didn’t, but—

Oh, God, Tara was upstairs, asleep in his bed.

‘Gotta run,’ Yvaine was saying. She gave Bonnie a kiss on the head, then pushed her towards Cal. ‘I’ll pick her up later, but I’m not sure of the time. I’ll let you—’ She stopped and her mouth dropped open.

Cal turned around slowly, guessing what she had seen.

Tara, her hair tousled, yawning widely and wearing one of Cal’s shirts with her bare legs on show, was slowly descending the stairs.

Cal realised she was still half asleep. But she didn’t remain that way for long. Blinking as the light from the open door reached her eyes, Tara faltered. Then a hand shot to her mouth and she turned, dashing back up the stairs.

Yvaine’s shocked silence lasted a full ten seconds, until Bonnie broke it. ‘Is Tara here for breakfast?’

Yvaine snapped, ‘I think Tara is here for more than breakfast.’ Her tone was accusing, her expression hard. ‘I thought you said there was nothing between you. I don’t call that nothing, so excuse me if I don’t believe you. You couldn’t stay away from your old girlfriend, could you? Although from where I’m standing, she doesn’t look like an old girlfriend. More like a current girlfriend, I’d say.’

‘Dad?’ Bonnie was staring up at him, her little face pinched and drained of colour. ‘Is it true? Is Tara your girlfriend?’

‘Of course she is,’ Yvaine barked. ‘Although he denied it when I asked him.’ She shot him a furious look. ‘I don’t know why, when he’s—’ She stopped mid-sentence, probably because she remembered that she was speaking to her nine-year-old daughter.

Bonnie looked stricken. ‘But Dad, you promised. You said you’d never have a girlfriend.’

Cal leant towards her, but she took a step back. ‘I’m sorry, Bon-Bon. I didn’t want you to find out like this. I was going to tell you, but I wanted you to get to know Tara better first. You like her, don’t you?’

Bonnie backed away another step. ‘ You promised ,’ she repeated, her eyes brimming with tears.

‘I didn’t mean to—’ he began, but she cut him off, her little face furious.

‘I hate you and I never want to see you again. I wish you were dead!’ She glared at him, then at her mother. ‘I hate you, too! And Lenn. I’m not going to live in his house and I’m not going to go to a new school and I’m not leaving Duncoorie and you can’t make me!’

With that, Bonnie whirled on her heel and stomped off.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Yvaine hissed. ‘She was just coming around to the idea, but now we’re back to square one, thanks to you.’

‘I’m sorry, I—’

‘I don’t want to hear it. Go back to your girlfriend. I’ve changed my mind about you having Bonnie today. In fact, I’m going to have a good think whether I should allow you to see her at all.’

‘Yvaine, you can’t do that! She’s my daughter, you can’t stop me seeing her. I have rights, parental responsibility—’

He knew she could. She’d tried it before. Going through legal channels to force Yvaine to comply could take months!

Yvaine’s parting shot floored him. ‘Anyway, Bonnie has made it perfectly clear she doesn’t want to see you ever again, and I’m not prepared to go against her wishes.’

Cal hurried after her as she headed to her car. ‘She’s nine! She’s had a shock. She doesn’t mean it.’ Bonnie couldn’t mean it. If she did, it would destroy him.

Yvaine shot him a disgusted look and waved her hand in the air. For her, the subject was closed. But not for Cal.

He cried, ‘You’re happy enough to go against her wishes when it suits you. She told you she doesn’t want to move to Portree or have Lenn for a stepfather.’

‘As you quite rightly pointed out, Bonnie is nine. She has no concept of what’s best for her. I’m thinking about her future. Lenn treats her like a princess and can give her opportunities you can’t.’

As if money could buy their daughter happiness! Cal gritted his teeth as the dig that he didn’t even own a house of his own hit it’s mark. As if he needed reminding that if he lost his job, he would also lose his home.

‘But I’m her father!’ he protested. ‘You can’t stop me seeing her. You can’t!’

‘We’ll leave that up to Bonnie, shall we? I believe I recall you saying she has enough to cope with at the moment getting used to Lenn, so I don’t want her to have to get used to your girlfriend as well.’

Cal’s heart sank as his ex-wife used his own words against him. She was right, Bonnie did have enough to cope with. Too many changes at once were bound to unsettle her, and he’d vowed that he would be the one constant thing she could rely on in the sea of her uncertain world.

And he’d let her down.

He’d broken a promise to his daughter. He had betrayed her trust, and now she hated him. He didn’t blame her. He hated himself. He never should have put his feelings before hers. Bonnie’s happiness was his priority. He had to make it up to her, one way or another, and get her to change her mind. If he didn’t, Yvaine would use Bonnie’s refusal to see him as a punishment for being in love with someone else, when he should have been in love with her. Otherwise it might be a very long time before she allowed him access to his daughter, and that would break his heart.