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

Chapter 24

What her mum said made perfect sense. Tara could leave most of the contents of the studio in situ, so the place looked as though it was still occupied. And although the craft centre was open seven days a week, none of the crafters worked all seven. One or two studios were always closed on any given day. As long as Tara continued to pay her rent on time, she didn’t think Mhairi would be able to complain.

Tara would also keep supplying the gift shop for as long as necessary, until another crafter was found.

The more Tara thought about her mother’s suggestion that she stay with her and Toby on the Isle of Wight, the more it made sense. It would give her the physical distance from Cal, Duncoorie and Skye that she craved, although the pain would travel with her. There would be no escaping that.

However, as sorely tempted she might be to shove as much into her car as possible and head south right that second, she couldn’t. There was too much to sort out, and she wanted to leave a supply of her bestselling stock in the studio for Jinny to replenish the gift shop with, as and when needed. She also had a commission which was close to completion, and she didn’t want to pack it up and take it with her in case it got damaged en route. She may as well finish it and send it off first.

There was also Bonnie’s doll’s house.

Tara had done so much work on it that it would be a shame not to finish it. What had taken place between Tara and Cal wasn’t Bonnie’s fault, and if the doll’s house helped the child settle into her new home, Tara wouldn’t begrudge giving it to her.

Before she got started, she made a coffee and stared at the contents of her fridge, knowing she should make an effort to eat something. But the thought of food made her stomach churn, so she decided not to bother. A couple of skipped meals wasn’t going to hurt, and no doubt her mum would try to fatten her up, whether she needed fattening or not.

As Tara changed into her work clothes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and flinched. She looked awful – pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, a haunted expression. She’d seen that same face staring back at her a decade ago. She’d hoped never to see it again.

Scooping up her hair with her hands, not bothering to brush it, she fastened it on top of her head, grabbed her keys and her phone, and headed to the studio. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could pack and leave. Being here was killing her.

Or it would, if she wasn’t already dead inside.

Cal couldn’t sleep. It didn’t matter how exhausted he felt or how much he tried to wear himself out during the day by throwing himself into work, every night since he’d broken up with Tara, he’d been unable to settle, and when he did drop off he woke a couple of hours later, his heart aching, his arms empty.

Tonight followed the same pattern, so he did what he’d done on previous nights – he got up, poured himself a wee dram and stared out over the loch.

But he was even more restless than usual, thoughts whirling around his head, regret and heartache biting deep.

Feeling caged, he got dressed and slipped into the darkness.

The night was still; not a breath of wind stirred the leaves and the only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore.

He turned away from the loch and the sliver of beach, away from the boathouse and the woman who slept there, and headed towards the castle. He might as well do a quick circuit to check everything was as it should be, then he would head up the mountain, hoping it would help soothe his soul.

However, when he turned the corner into the courtyard, he noticed that the light in Tara’s studio was on, and Cal was drawn to it like a moth.

She was inside, beavering away, her head bowed to her task, and he wondered whether she was working late or starting early. Either way, she should have been in bed at this ungodly hour. But then, so should he. It was his weekend to have Bonnie, and he would need his wits about him. This would be the first time he would have spoken to his daughter since he’d told her he no longer had a girlfriend, and he wasn’t sure whether she had entirely forgiven him. He’d feared she hadn’t when Yvaine had told him not to collect Bonnie on Friday evening as he usually did, but when she explained it was Katie’s birthday and there was a party and a sleepover at Katie’s house, some of his tension had eased.

Cal continued to watch Tara for a while, drinking in the sight of her until he couldn’t stand it any longer, then he went back to the cottage. He didn’t go to bed though, taking up residence on the deck and keeping vigil for her return to the boathouse.

When she failed to show by the time the sky lightened, he got stiffly to his feet and went indoors, the early morning chill having settled into his bones. It might still be summer on Skye, but the warmth of the days he’d spent in the sun with her seemed a lifetime ago. The island had returned to her moody, fickle self, and although the day promised to be a calm, dry one, Cal knew there was a storm brewing out in the Atlantic. Before this day ended, the sky would darken, the wind would pick up and squally rain would hide the far shore of the loch.

The weather would suit his equally dark and stormy mood perfectly.

‘Bloody hell, Tara, what’s happened to you?’ Jinny demanded when Tara unlocked the studio door on Saturday morning. ‘Are you ill? Can I get you anything? Would you like me to fetch Cal? I’ve just dropped Bonnie off at his cottage because she had a sleepover at mine last night, but I expect you know that.’

Tara lumbered to her stool and slumped onto it. ‘No Cal,’ she croaked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. She’d barely spoken to anyone since the phone call with her mum, and it was now Saturday.

‘Are you sure? It’s no hassle.’

‘No Cal,’ she repeated.

‘Tara, hen, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look dreadful.’

‘I feel it,’ she admitted.

‘You need to go home and get yourself to bed.’

Tara’s laugh was bitter, edged with hysteria. She didn’t have a home. Not any more. She’d hoped she could make Duncoorie her home, but Cal had smashed that hope to smithereens.

Jinny was staring at her in alarm and Tara realised she would have to explain. ‘Cal and I have split up,’ she said.

Jinny pulled up the other stool and sat on it. ‘I’m assuming it wasn’t a mutual decision.’

‘No.’

‘Did he give a reason?’

‘Bonnie found out about us, which mightn’t have been so bad, but Cal had promised her he would never have a girlfriend.’

‘Never? That’s a bit extreme.’

‘Or until she had a boyfriend, at least.’

‘Still extreme. What if she’s gay? She might never have a boyfriend. He shouldn’t have made a promise he couldn’t keep.’

‘I’m assuming he thought he could keep it until Bonnie was more interested in her social life than his . And I’m pretty sure that when he made it, bumping into me again was the furthest thing from his mind.’

‘Aw, hen, don’t take on so. Bonnie will get over herself, and Cal will come to his senses.’

‘I’m not sure I want him to. He’s hurt me, Jinny.’

‘I can see that.’ Jinny blew out her cheeks. ‘It’s not going to be easy with the pair of you living and working in the same place.’

‘That’s why I’m leaving.’

Jinny’s eyes widened. ‘You’re not ?! I thought you loved it here?’

‘I do. But I can’t stay, knowing I could bump into him at any moment. This castle ain’t big enough for the both of us.’ Her attempt at an American accent was pathetic, and her oblique reference to the song seemed to pass her friend by.

‘It is,’ Jinny insisted. ‘He doesn’t have much to do with the crafters on a daily basis, and once you move out of the boathouse and into a place of your own, the chance of bumping into him goes down a lot.’

Tara was shaking her head. ‘I’ve got to. I can’t stay here.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘My mum and stepdad have a caravan park on the Isle of Wight. I’ll stay there for a while, until I sort myself out.’

‘What does Mhairi say? I’m assuming you’ve told her.’

‘She knows I want to leave.’

‘She’ll be sorry to see you go. And so will I.’ Jinny got to her feet and held out her arms. ‘Come here, hen, let me give you a hug.’

Tara rose jerkily from her stool and accepted the hug gratefully, even though it made her cry again. Leaving Duncoorie would be a wrench. She loved it here – the castle, the craft centre, the friends she’d made – but her decision was final. This was her last day. In the morning, she would get up early and go.

She’d debated whether to leave today, because not only had she completed the commission, she’d made loads of miniatures for the gift shop and she’d also finalised Bonnie’s doll’s house. Once the commission had been collected by the parcel service, all that was left to do was to pack away any of the remaining bits and pieces that weren’t already in boxes and load them into the car.

But the journey would take fourteen hours or more, and that was without breaks. Driving on unfamiliar roads in the dark didn’t appeal, so she would spend one more night in the boathouse, where she would try to get a couple of hours sleep, then leave at first light.

Besides, she didn’t want anyone to witness her departure. She simply couldn’t face saying goodbye to anyone else.

Tara read through the letter she’d written, folded it, then slipped

it inside an envelope. It was addressed to Mhairi. The castle’s owner

had been so kind and Tara felt dreadful about sneaking away, but she

hoped the old lady would understand. She’d also considered leaving a

note for Bonnie, but in the end had decided against it. The doll’s house

sitting on the table in the boathouse would suffice. She propped the

letter against it, guessing it would probably be Cal who found it.

She left nothing for him. All their words had been said. Tara didn’t have any more, and if Cal did, she didn’t want to hear them.

Edgy and strung out now that there was nothing left to do, she roamed restlessly around the boathouse, running her hand over the worktops, stroking the arm of the chair, and committing everything to memory. She wanted to go for a walk but was scared of running into Cal or Bonnie. Or both.

Hoping she hadn’t forgotten anything important, she wandered into the bedroom, checking the wardrobe and drawers yet again.

They were empty apart from the clothes she’d wear tomorrow, and she was about to leave when movement outside attracted her attention.

Cal had emerged from his cottage, Bonnie behind him.

Her heart leapt, banging uncomfortably against her ribcage, and her eyes filled with tears. Would she ever stop crying over this man?

There was a defeated slump to his shoulders, she thought, watching him walk to the Range Rover and supervise his daughter as Bonnie got in and buckled up. She wished she could see his face clearly, but the distance was a little too far.

As he waited, he lifted his head and stared at the boathouse. Tara nearly shrank back in case he saw her, but she realised just in time that the movement might give her away.

She wondered how he was bearing up.

She had no doubt he was hurting, and she had no doubt that he loved her. So how was it possible their love could end like this?

Cal got into the car, and as Tara watched it rumble slowly up the lane, her eyes filled with tears. This was the last sight she would ever have of him.

His departure left her bereft, but at least it meant she could go for a final walk without the worry of bumping into him.

Her keys were on the table, and as she reached for them, her gaze fell on the doll’s house and she paused.

Making a decision, she picked it up, careful not to disturb the furniture inside. It might be an indulgence, but she hoped to catch Bonnie’s reaction when the child saw it on her father’s doorstep.

If there had been any hint of rain in the air, Tara wouldn’t have risked leaving it outside, but the sun shone, the breeze was light, and she was as sure as she could be that it would stay fine for the next few hours.

Kneeling, she made certain everything inside the little house was where it should be, then she set off for a final walk around the loch that she had come to love almost as much as the man who lived beside it.

Without Cal’s strength, the boat was harder to drag to the water’s

edge than Tara imagined, and she almost gave up. But with one last

heave, it started to shift, and as soon as she had some momentum, she

managed to launch it successfully.

Unfortunately, she also got her feet wet, but she didn’t care. Her trainers would dry overnight. If they didn’t, she had another pair she could wear on the long drive tomorrow.

Tara eyed the oars, dismissing them instantly. Rowing looked like hard work, and although she would have preferred a silent glide across the loch, she could always cut the motor when she reached the other side.

Lowering the outboard into the water, she pulled the starter cord, the way she had watched Cal do it. It took her three attempts and she was starting to worry because Misty Lady was beginning to drift, when the engine finally spluttered, then caught and began running smoothly.

Steering the boat towards the middle of the loch, Tara hoped Cal wouldn’t be too cross with her for taking it out without his permission, but she had an undeniable urge to revisit the place where she and Cal had reconnected, where they had made love on Skye for the first time. It would always hold a special place in her heart, and she would never forget it. The opposite bank of the loch was where she’d been the happiest, and the desire to say farewell to it had hit her the moment she’d stepped onto the beach.

She’d only intended to walk to the end of the jetty, but once the idea of borrowing the boat had entered her head, the decision had been made. She wouldn’t be out long, and with any luck Cal wouldn’t realise she’d borrowed it at all. Anyway, she hoped to be back in time to witness Bonnie’s reaction when the child spotted her doll’s house.

With her gaze fixed on the opposite shore, Tara felt an overwhelming sadness. As she drew closer to it, the tears she’d been trying to hold back welled up and trickled down her face, as she sobbed her despair into the uncaring sea.