Chapter 25
Lying in bed late was one of life’s great pleasures, so anything that began before 8 a.m. on a weekend had better be good.
Which is why on the following Saturday morning Paolo was steering a paddleboard out of the harbour, while Holly sat at the front of the board, staring out to sea. They had been going out on to the water like this every weekend since Holly first arrived in Eastercraig. She had been keen for a friend to join her, and at the time Paolo had needed to leave his comfort zone. And as the surgery opened an hour later than normal on a Saturday, it was the perfect time to do it. Even if it did mean neither of them got to lie in.
‘How are you feeling, Hols? Three weeks has passed without Hugh and you’re still standing.’ He put his shoulders into a sweeping stroke of the paddle, feeling his muscles working.
Holly still refused to admit she was overworking herself, despite the fact she’d spent the previous day yawning between appointments. She insisted they keep paddleboarding in the diary. Paolo didn’t really want to cancel, but he was worried that Holly was heading for burn-out.
‘Are you trying to be funny?’ Holly asked. She didn’t sound happy.
Paolo winced. He knew how important the surgery was to Holly — but he hadn’t expected her to snap.
‘No. I was trying to tell you how smoothly everything has been running, and that you seem totally on top of it all,’ he said. Sometimes compliments were best left un-nuanced.
Holly shuffled round to face him. ‘God! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. Do you think I’m becoming Hugh?’
Paolo shook his head. ‘As far as I can tell, no. But I’ll let you know if you shrink a foot and get short grey hair and begin cursing everything from fruit in salads to mobile parking apps.’
Holly laughed, her brow relaxing. She tied her long, blonde hair up in a ponytail.
‘I haven’t had a chance to let off much steam lately,’ she admitted. ‘Greg’s been away so much, and I always seem to end up getting home late and stewing over things before eating a crap supper. And . . .’ Her words died away.
‘And what?’ Paolo stopped paddling a second. ‘Is everything OK with Greg?’
Holly trailed a hand through the water as she mulled the question over. ‘It’s all fine.’ Paolo sensed the ‘but’ coming. ‘But I miss him. I’d spent so long not wanting to be in a relationship, and now I am I’ve decided it’s the best thing in the world. I wish I could see more of him, and at the moment it’s not possible.’
Paolo shoulders dropped in relief. For a second he had feared she would say something worse. ‘Och, I’m sorry, Holly. He won’t be working away forever, though. Once this contract comes to an end he’ll be back here more often, won’t he?’
‘Yes.’ Holly nodded, firmly. ‘He will. It’s tough, but I’ll manage. Like I am with the surgery. Anyway, the letting off steam bit . . .’
‘Anything in mind. Want to go to an escape room? I heard about a place where you can throw axes.’
‘Actually, I did have an idea.’ Holly sounded more like her usual, positive self again. ‘It’s my birthday on Wednesday, and I want to do something. Last year it was you, me and Chloe in the pub, but I thought I might do something a bit bigger.’
‘What? Chlo and I aren’t enough?’ Paolo joked, not letting on that Chloe had been testing cakes.
‘Of course you are.’ Holly grinned. ‘But there are other people who need to be there. Greg, obviously, and Angus. And Hamish?’
She said the last name with a hint of mischief. Paolo felt his insides curdle, and clearly the expression on his face reflected this because Holly stared at him.
‘What? Did I say something wrong now? Has something happened?’
Paolo told her about the other evening at Glenalmond and confessed to the spotting in Beauly. Holly listened as he recalled every last detail, all of which had been plaguing him. It was a relief to get it off his chest. He’d not told either of his friends, fearing that if they weren’t bored to tears by the subject, they’d lecture him on it.
‘I thought you’d been distracted this week. I’ve caught you with a faraway look more than once,’ she said.
‘Well? There’s obviously something going on with Skye, isn’t there. And this other guy.’
He thought once more about the suspect spritzes, the way Skye’s arm draped over Hamish’s shoulder so comfortably. He pictured the man in Beauly, how Hamish planted a kiss on his cheek.
‘Want to steer us away from these rocks?’ asked Holly casually. ‘Any time’s good.’
He had forgotten to paddle for the last few minutes. The Hamish thing was taking up too much space in his brain. They might well have drifted all the way to Norway if Holly hadn’t been there to remind him to keep going.
‘Between Skye and the date he was on? He’s running wild. I mean, I wondered if now he’s free from Daisy, and cheated death last year, he’s playing the field.’
‘Oh, Paolo. Why didn’t you tell us all this before?’ asked Holly.
‘I didn’t want to bore you. Like I’ve blatantly bored Hamish. I felt like a crisp new shirt that was briefly thrilling, but that’s been stuffed at the back of a wardrobe.’
He’d reached a new level of descriptive melodrama.
‘Paolo,’ said Holly, sounding like she was about to be the rational one of the pair, ‘Hamish liked you. I promise. Maybe you were both scared to start something.’
‘Why would I be scared to start something?’ said Paolo. ‘I know no fear. I’m very manly, despite my antipathy towards weightlifting and fast cars.’
‘The true gauges of masculinity.’ Holly rolled her eyes. ‘You tell me.’
How far back should he go? To his experience with Fabien? Or was it that until last year, Hamish hadn’t dated a guy for a long time, and Paolo didn’t want to push him? In truth, he was scared of being deserted again. Hearts were fragile, and needed to be treated with care.
’I don’t know,’ he said, not wanting to tell Holly how deep his worries went. ‘Look, if this was a Richard Curtis film, I’d be the also-ran, the one the audience is led to believe has potential, but was nothing more than a decoy before the main event.’
‘You’re getting daft,’ Holly interrupted. ‘And carried away. Listen to yourself!’
‘Even if I forget the Beauly guy, Skye’s moved in with him,’ said Paolo, hearing his voice reach a higher pitch. ‘Into a bloody castle. Again, if this was a film, the credits would be rolling already.’
Holly shuffled backwards, and, after slowly coming to stand, reached for the oar. Paolo handed it to her, manoeuvred his way to the front of the board and flopped on to his back. The paddle board rocked gently from side to side, until he felt it moving forwards once more, smoothly gliding through the water. He stared at the sky, a crisp blue, the sun beating down on his face. Well, beating was a little extreme. This was Scotland.
Holly took a deep breath. ‘Right. What’s going to happen is this. Skye is going to leave for Edinburgh at the end of next week. As for her moving into Glenalmond, it was about convenience and comfort. You barely know her, and she was squeezed into your spare room, which is lovely, but you can’t swing Ginger around in it. Glenalmond on the other hand? It’s a no brainer. An old friend asks you to move into their castle? You’d leap on it, wouldn’t you?’
Paolo sighed. ‘Of course. So you’re suggesting the following as a plan. I ignore the flagrant sexual tension between the two of them, and carry on as normal, and — once Skye is out of the picture — make a tentative move?’
‘Exactly,’ said Holly, as if it was that simple.
‘But Beauly guy?’
‘When a suitable moment presents itself, ask him how he’s been finding the dating scene. You’ll catch him out with that, and he’s likely to confess. You’ll get your answers, and be able to proceed accordingly. I think that sounds like the most pragmatic approach.’
She allowed no room for irrationality, did Holly. Paolo, however, generally liked to experience his romantic crises totally, with the full smorgasbord of emotions. But for her sake, and probably his own, he decided he’d take her approach.
‘Let’s discuss your birthday,’ said Paolo. ‘It’ll take my mind off Hamish.’
‘Invite him. It would be weird without him.’
‘Inviting him to your party won’t help with taking my mind off him, Hols,’ he said.
Holly either hadn’t heard him, or chose to ignore him. ‘And — don’t hate me — we ought to invite Skye too.’
Paolo tried to hide the reluctance in his voice. ‘I guess Hugh would approve. Why don’t we do a picnic? The forecast is set to change at the end of next week.’
‘I saw.’ Holly sounded dismayed. ‘We’ve got all those farm visits in at the start of July. They’ve all come at once, like bloody buses. I’ve been finding them easier in the sun.’
‘Sorry,’ Paolo apologized for being the bearer of bad news. ‘We could do it here. If you fancy it. And I don’t mean a crap one with a rug and some shandy in a plastic bottle. I mean coordinating crockery and a menu card written in slanting cursive.’
Thanks to Holly’s superior paddling skills, they had rounded the headland and were edging closer to Finnen Beach. Sitting up, Paolo surveyed the scene in front of him. The water became clear beneath them, the sand visible through the blue shallows. A crescent of white sand, with grasses beyond, it could have been somewhere in the Caribbean, not the north of Scotland.
‘How do you tablescape a beach?’ asked Holly. ‘Look, there’s no need to go crazy. It’s not a special birthday or anything.’
Paolo craned his neck around. ‘Yes, but I’ve got a creative streak.’
Holly raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re trying to impress Hamish, aren’t you? I know it, Rossini. And Hamish won’t be won over by that. You know he’s not that guy. He’d far rather bond over a hike through the woods than an outing to a fancy schmancy restaurant.’
Paolo slid off the board and into the water, where he turned to face Holly. He narrowed his eyes.
‘I merely think it’ll be a nice thing to do for your birthday. You know, celebrate you, and midsummer, before the storms on the horizon hit.’
He took out his phone from the drypack, and snapped a photo of the beach, which, as always, looked flawless, ready to post — hashtag no filter .
* * *
Holly was already in the surgery when Paolo got there. How did she get dressed so fast? He held out a frothy-looking coffee from the café down the road. ‘Cappuccino. For being a whinge-bag this morning. And because I didn’t know if we’d fixed the thing in the kitchen.’
The coffee machine in the practice, which had been Hugh’s, was temperamental, and for the last two days had spat out brown mud, which tasted more of burning circuit board than a decent brew.
Holly smiled. ‘Thanks.’
Chloe, in a fifties-style sundress patterned with deckchairs, bustled in behind him, and sat down at the desk.
‘You’re not meant to be in today, are you?’ asked Paolo. Chloe didn’t usually work on Saturdays, but perhaps she was getting forgetful, with all the added work and associated subtracted sleep up at Auchintraid. ‘I’d have got you a latte if I knew you’d be here.’
‘Nope.’ Chloe smiled, sounding perky. ‘But I want to get a bit of filing done. I need to start late on Monday because I’ve got the dentist. Remember? I asked last week.’
Holly groaned. ‘You’re not here on Monday morning?’
Paolo took a sip of his coffee. Paolo now remembered Holly had said OK to it, he had been there last week when Chloe had asked. Though why Holly would have said yes on a Monday, which was always the busiest day of the week, was beyond him.
‘No. And I’m out Friday too. Oh. Is that no longer good?’
Holly took a measured sip of cappuccino. ‘It’ll be fine. As long as everything is lined up ready.’
The doorbell went and everyone turned to see who it was. There was another five minutes before opening.
A woman Paolo recognized from Eastercraig, but hadn’t met in person before, appeared in the doorway, a box in her hands. ‘There’s something wrong with my rabbit,’ she said, her eyes watering. ‘Is there a chance you can fit me in?’
It was going to be one of those days. Paolo took another swift gulp of his flat white, before going over and taking the box from the woman.
‘Shall we take this through to the back?’ said Holly. ‘I’ll whack on some scrubs. Chloe, make a note and let the Russells know we’ll be with them shortly.’
‘Hi, Mrs Leary,’ said Chloe, as they passed.
‘Oh, hello, darlin’,’ said the woman. ‘We’re down the road from Chloe,’ she added to Paolo and Holly, in a tone of somewhat frantic explanation.
In the consulting room, Holly took the box and placed it on the table. Inside, the doe — a female rabbit — was lying in a corner, panting. Peering closer, careful not to frighten it, Paolo and Holly eyed the corner of the box. Their eyes met, and Holly’s lip twitched.
‘Paolo, can you go and get me some more straw?’ Holly asked.
Paolo jogged down the corridor, and to the cupboard out the back that contained a cornucopia of supplies. He pulled out a bag of straw from the bottom of a pile as if he was playing Jenga, and hurried back to the consulting room.
‘How old is . . . ? Sorry, I didn’t take a name,’ Holly was asking.
‘Aurelia,’ said Mrs Leary. ‘Is she OK?’
‘She’s fine. And how long have you had her?’
‘She’s about six months, I think. We’ve had her for two weeks — she came from a sanctuary near Inverness. What’s wrong with her? Has she got some kind of virus.’
Not so much. ‘Lean in, but not too far. See what’s there with her?’
Mrs Leary moved closer, and took a tentative peek into the box, then stifled a gasp. She came back up and looked at Paolo and Holly with wide eyes.
‘But we got two females! Aurelia and Octavia.’
‘She may have been pregnant when you got her, but if not, I think Octavia might well be an Octavian,’ said Paolo, with a grin.
Holly nodded. ‘If you want to book an appointment before you leave, we can have Octavia checked and neutered, if she is indeed a she. In the meantime, let’s keep Aurelia here. This is kindling — that’s what we call it when rabbits give birth. It usually happens in the morning, and you can expect around six kits. We’ll let her nest, and get her some food, and keep a bit of distance. Then you can come and collect her later. We can talk through next steps then.’
‘Is there anything else I can do?
Holly smiled. ‘For now, you could run and get some of her favourite veg, if she has any. But leave her with us. She’s in safe hands.’
Paolo showed Mrs Leary out to reception, quickly informing Chloe what had happened. Chloe gasped.
‘Kits! How sweet! Och — there’s nothing like a baby animal to brighten up an otherwise routine Saturday.’
Paolo would normally be inclined to agree. Only once they had finished clearing up and writing some notes down, he and Holly would be fifteen minutes behind schedule, and they hadn’t even started yet. Holly would flip, although only once the surgery doors had closed at 1 p.m. Honestly, the woman needed a locum.
He and Chloe waved Mrs Leary goodbye, and Paolo opened the door for the Russells. Before he followed them to the consulting room, he felt a tug on his scrubs.
‘You hold back,’ said Chloe, in a near whisper.
Paolo smoothed down his scrubs. ‘Be quick. Holly needs a second pair of hands for the next one.’
‘You left your phone here.’
‘And . . . ? I didn’t have a chance to pop my stuff away.’
‘Someone liked your post,’ Chloe said, cryptically.
‘Who?’ said Paolo, taking the phone as Chloe passed it over. ‘Oh. Crap.’
Fabien. Fabien, who had refrained from liking any of his posts since he had moved to Switzerland. More importantly, there was a message too. Take me back.
He looked up. Chloe was staring at him, and he felt his throat go dry.
Paolo gulped. ‘Well, that’s unexpected.’
He shoved the phone back at Chloe, who took it, and hurried to join Holly and the Russells.