Chapter Nine
Scotland was cold.
It shouldn’t have been a shock, the country didn’t exactly advertise itself as a balmy, tropical destination, but I was not prepared for the bitter blast of frigid air that greeted me when I stepped off the train at Inverness.
A gust of wind so strong it almost knocked me off my unprepared feet blew down the platform, and I cursed myself for choosing my adorable pink duffle coat rather than the practical puffer Desi tried to foist on me.
A mental run-through of my packing confirmed I was going to be cold for the following five days unless I wore all my clothes at once.
I would be wearing all my clothes at once.
‘All right?’ Callum asked as he took custody of my suitcase from the porter.
‘I’m freezing to death,’ I replied, rubbing my hands together. ‘I mean it, my blood is freezing in my veins.’
‘For a doctor, you’re very prone to hyperbole.’
‘For a pastry chef, you’re very prone to …’
He smirked as I watched my breath fog in the air in front of me.
‘Prone to what?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘It’s too cold for witty comebacks.’
‘It’s only going to get colder so get used to it.’
‘Amazing, frostbite for Christmas,’ I sulked, blowing on my hands. ‘It’s not like I need my fingers for my job or anything.’
‘And it’s not like you could’ve predicted it would be a wee bit chilly up here or anything.’
Pulling the collar of my coat up around my exposed neck, I gave him the filthiest look my frozen face could muster.
With a tut and a sigh, he drew the scarf from around his neck, reaching over to wrap it around mine.
But I jerked away as though he’d been planning to throttle me with it, leaving his arms outstretched, a look of confusion on his face.
Slinging the scarf back around his neck, Callum produced our tickets from his pocket as I stalked off up the platform.
Cool, calm, detached. Whatever that photo in his wallet meant to him, to me it was an explicit reminder to stay NFI.
No feelings involved. I wasn’t upset, I was annoyed.
He should’ve told me he was still in love with his ex, or still had feelings for her or whatever it was that made him want her picture with him at all times.
‘Who’s picking us up?’ I asked civilly. ‘Your dad?’
‘No, uh, it’ll be Mal.’
He inserted my ticket into the barrier first, waited for me to pass through then did his own, pushing my case ahead of him.
‘And Mal is?’
‘He works for us. For my dad.’
‘On the farm?’
‘Sort of.’
Before I could dig any deeper, a short, stout, older man wearing a tweed three-piece suit appeared in front of us. No coat. No top layer whatsoever. I’d never felt like such a weakling in my life.
‘Hullo, Cal, you wee shite!’ he cheered, punching Callum hard in the arm. ‘How are ye?’
‘Ah, away wi ye, ye aul bampot, nae bad, yersen?’
I stared at the two of them, lost in the cloud of their rolling burrs.
‘This must be the lovely Caroline.’
Mal held out his hand for my suitcase and Callum surrendered it without question.
‘Caroline,’ I confirmed with an enthusiastic nod. His eyebrows were spectacular. ‘That’s me.’
‘Och, you’re a bonnie one,’ he beamed. ‘Ye reet hen?’
‘I’m a right hen?’ I translated out loud, looking to Callum for confirmation who covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. ‘Are you calling me a chicken? Because I’m wearing a coat? Because I know you live here and you’re used to it but I can assure you it is objectively very cold and—’
‘Cal, ye total bawbag. Ye havnae educated your wifey in the local dialect?’ he replied, pairing what I assumed was an insult with a look even filthier than mine when Callum shrugged in response.
‘Sorry, darlin’, I’ll go slow. I was only asking how you are.
Is this your first time up to the Highlands? ’
‘It is,’ I confirmed gratefully as he put his arm around my shoulders and steered me through the growing crowd of travellers.
‘First time to Scotland?’
I shook my head. ‘I’ve been to Edinburgh before.’
‘Aye, then it is your first time to Scotland,’ he replied, still wearing a cheerful smile even as we exited the station and the arctic blast almost killed me on the spot.
He cackled as the boot popped open then rose slowly towards the still dark sky. It hadn’t occurred to me that the sun wouldn’t come up until later this far north. It was almost nine a.m. and still practically pitch black.
‘Nice car,’ I said to Callum, taking in the new car smell as I slid into the backseat.
‘Impractical car,’ he replied. ‘Dad’s retirement present to himself. Mal drives it more than he does.’
‘Too right he does,’ Mal confirmed. ‘Homeward bound, hen, make yersen comfy.’
‘Will do,’ I replied, closing my eyes and sighing happily when he shut the driver’s side door and turned on the seat warmers. At least if I was going to feel like an idiot, I wouldn’t freeze to death at the same time. It was better than nothing.
Following our drive on my Maps app, I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive when Mal turned north and kept on going.
The further we went, the colder it got, the temperature dropping into minus figures, but I was soon distracted from the sub zero numbers by some of the most beautiful scenery I’d ever laid eyes on.
Rolling hills that ebbed and flowed like the tides, towering trees and endless stretches of perfectly still water that began to peel away the protective layer that life in the city had wrapped around me.
I hadn’t travelled much, Dad preferred to stay close to home after Mum died, at least until he remarried, and I’d gone straight from school to university to work, which hadn’t left time for exploring the world.
And as the hospital’s lovely HR director pointed out when she informed me I was taking an extended leave of absence over Christmas whether I liked it or not, I really hadn’t taken any holiday at all since I started the neurosurgery programme.
My rare days off were spent asleep in bed or practically comatose on the sofa, and even if I’d known how stunningly beautiful the Scottish countryside was, only a few hours away, I still wouldn’t have been moved to investigate it on my own, not when I could be studying for my upcoming exams or catching up on research papers.
As we crested another hill, crossing over a broad river, the sun began to rise, the sky shifting shades from deep and murky grey to a more promising wispy white, hints of blue appearing from time to time but never fully committing.
But it wasn’t only the natural beauty outside the car that caught my attention.
Callum’s entire demeanour had changed since we got off the train.
He was looser, more relaxed, his broad shoulders heaving laughter that came readily, almost every time Mal opened his mouth.
As the sun climbed up the horizon, keeping low but brightening the day as best it could, his profile sharpened against the sky and I couldn’t stop stealing glances, following the straight line of his nose, the angular cut of his jaw, the swell of his bottom lip.
He glanced over his shoulder, smiling when he caught my eye, and I jumped as though he could read my mind, knocking the back of my head against the padded leather headrest.
‘All right?’ he asked. ‘Caroline?’
‘Fine,’ I replied. ‘Babe.’
With a smile and a wink, he looked away and I pressed a burning cheek against the freezing glass of the window. NFI. NFI. NFI.
‘Your mother has every minute of every day planned,’ Mal said, running through our itinerary as he floored it up the A9. ‘Hope you came with an empty stomach because I’ve seen Lizzie’s menus and you’ll no’ go hungry while you’re here.’
‘Your mum has planned menus?’ I repeated, meeting Callum’s eyes in the rearview mirror. ‘Is that not all a bit much?’
‘You did meet his mother, did you not?’ Mal replied. ‘No such thing as too much for the lady of the manor.’
‘He’s exaggerating,’ Callum said as the older man laughed. ‘Take every word out of his mouth with a grain of salt.’
Lady of the manor? Only a figure of speech, surely. I took out my phone to text Desi and Joel for support but there was no service, not even one bar. Even the map had gone blank, nothing left but a tiny blue dot moving up a featureless landscape.
‘It’s just her way, don’t bother about aul’ Lizzie,’ Mal went on. ‘She likes things done a certain way but she always warms up once she’s got a drink or two in her.’
‘Have you seen Elsie?’ Callum asked as I leaned all the way across the backseat, futilely waving my phone around.
‘Speaking of people who need to warm up …’ he replied with a grimace. ‘I see Elsie every bloody day, thanks to you. Best be warned before you get home, she’s not your biggest fan right now.’
Callum’s mouth curved into a bitter smile. ‘Was she ever?’
‘Aye, fair point. At least I always know where your sister is, unlike your brother. Your ma says he should be arriving tonight so I wouldn’t expect to see him before Christmas Day.
That boy wouldn’t know how to get anywhere on time even if his life depended on it.
It’ll be a miracle if he arrives before the New Year if you ask me. ’
‘Did anyone ask you?’
‘Never stopped me sharing my opinion before.’
Mal’s laughter filled the car, the rough-hewn sound smoothing the edges off my nerves.
‘What I do know is, we’re all very excited to meet Miss Caroline here,’ he said, his crinkly eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. ‘The way Derek was carrying on when they got home yesterday, and your poor ma, set to sorting out the house as though we’re expecting another royal visit.’
‘Because that went so well the first time?’
‘You’re joking,’ I said when Mal only chuckled in response. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’
‘It was one day, twenty years ago, and they only stayed for a minute,’ Callum replied.
‘What do the two of you talk about?’ Mal asked as I blanched whiter than a sheet of A4. ‘Has he told you nothing about the family at all?’