Chapter 4
The first time I laid eyes on Robert, I knew he was the one. It was a similar feeling on the ferry over to Mull when I had an overwhelming sense of coming home.
Extract from Joy’s journal
Tilly stood on the deck of the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry with her hair being whipped around her face by the chill bite of an April wind.
Confusing and conflicting emotions swirled through her as she gazed across the choppy water to the Isle of Mull.
She remembered the first time she’d done the journey when she’d been filled with a sense of optimism and peace mixed with anticipation and adventure.
Logan had been leaning on the white railing next to her as Duart Castle had drawn closer.
Silhouetted against the summer sun, the castle had looked majestic.
The sight had made her feel as if she was coming home – a ridiculous notion when she’d never thought of anywhere as home, and yet… Mull had charmed her.
It was colder and greyer today and the castle was more defined, its stone walls stark against the moody sky and just as imposing as the first time she’d seen it.
Instead of being next to her, Logan was already on Mull at his aunt’s house, his reason for being back far sadder than their summer fourteen years ago.
Tilly’s confliction only increased as Mull inched closer.
Part of her couldn’t wait to spend time with Logan when opportunities recently had been fleeting.
Their friendship spanned more than two decades and had seen them through boarding school, university and into adulthood, with its challenges of work, relationships, moves and break-ups.
She wished she’d been there for him more over the last year, but her own relationship troubles had complicated things.
Even if they were coming together on Mull for an unhappy reason, she sorely needed to step away from her responsibilities and the disappointments in her life.
The late-afternoon sun sliced through the silvery clouds and added to the beauty of the island.
Darker clouds clustered over Ben More and the mountainous centre of Mull; she’d be lucky if she made it to the house before it started to rain.
April weather would likely be unsettled, but that felt much like her life at the moment.
With the fifty-minute journey between the town of Oban on the mainland and Craignure on Mull done, Tilly returned to her campervan and, after the foot passengers had disembarked, she followed the other vehicles off the ferry.
Her nerves ramped up as she drove along the A-road that would eventually reach the main town of Tobermory, but she turned off at the village of Salen towards Knock.
Even though it had been out of her hands, she hadn’t forgiven herself for not making it to Mull for Joy’s funeral the previous October.
A combination of work and awful weather had foiled her plans, with the ferry crossings cancelled at the last minute due to a storm.
Not being there for Logan was her biggest regret, but her relief to not have witnessed his grief that day had been palpable.
She’d never lost anyone she was close to.
Her only experience of loss was born from a childhood of constantly moving and parents who had only thought of her as an unplanned burden.
Before Logan, her longest friendship had lasted five months.
To grieve the way Logan did, you had to love someone to begin with.
Logan was that person for Tilly; the closest friend she’d managed to hold on to.
He’d come into her life at a time she’d forged a path on her own, turning her back on her family as much as they’d discarded her.
And yet she hadn’t been with him when he’d needed her most. That was something she was going to make up for in the coming days on the lead-up to the belated celebration of Joy’s life.
* * *
Loch View House was as she remembered, its grey stone muted against the evergreens that lined the lane. The trees in the garden were bigger and the gravel drive was filled with weeds, yet it remained idyllic, the house nestled in a landscape of loch, woodland and mountains.
Tilly emerged from the car to a sky of two halves; gunmetal-grey clouds shadowed the mountain, while over Loch Na Keal, the sky was turning silver where the storm clouds consumed the pale blue. But it was the rainbow arcing across the field beyond the house that stole Tilly’s breath.
The front door scraping open made her turn.
Barney, Logan’s black and white English Springer Spaniel, bounded out, skittering across the stones in his excitement to reach her.
She leaned down to stroke him, but he bolted away, running around in circles back towards Logan, who was striding towards her.
‘Tilly Toes!’ Logan’s grin lifted her mood, while his nickname for her took her right back to boarding school. He hadn’t called her that for years. It was as if being here together drew them back to an easier, more carefree time in their youth.
‘Logan Wogan!’ she choked out his nickname, surprised by the emotional reaction of seeing her friend.
With Barney racing between their feet, they threw their arms around each other.
She breathed in his familiar scent of cedar wood and leather mixed with woodsmoke: comforting and homely.
Too much time had passed; she didn’t like living with regrets, but work had taken over, relationships too.
Tilly breathed deeply and let go of him. It was good to see him smile.
She fought back tears, knowing that Joy wasn’t going to appear in the doorway with an apron tied around her waist and her glasses wedged in her silver hair.
Spending the whole summer here fourteen years ago had been magical, and a sense of belonging had enveloped Tilly the moment she’d stepped out of the car to be greeted by Joy’s open arms and welcoming smile.
Loch View House had felt like home, which had everything to do with Joy and Logan, yet she’d only made a couple of fleeting visits since.
Constantly moving and keeping busy was all Tilly had known and she’d turned it into a successful business as a property developer, although travel and work were mostly confined to the north-east of England rather than the international travel she’d grown up with.
For the next two weeks though, she would be based on Mull with Logan, helping him to decide what to do with the place he loved, as well as sort, clear, clean and redecorate.
Logan ushered her and Barney inside as the shadow of the storm clouds swept across the driveway. The swirling breeze and the scent of rain made Tilly shiver.
The house was as she remembered it; lived in and loved, perhaps a little more worn around the edges.
The polished wooden floors were scuffed and the hallway rugs threadbare but charming.
The walls were covered in a mix of paintings of local landscapes painted by Joy’s husband Robert and photos of her with her family too.
Leaving her luggage in the hall, Tilly followed Logan into the kitchen at the back of the house.
‘Fancy a cuppa?’ Logan asked as he switched on the kettle.
‘Love one.’
A few minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen table, with Barney lying beneath it.
The wood was worn from years of countless heart-to-hearts over cups of tea.
Joy may not have grown up on Mull, but she’d moved there when she was barely out of her teens and had made it her home for the next sixty years.
She’d become the very fabric of the place, charming the locals and even her curmudgeonly neighbour.
Tilly and Logan echoed each other clasping their mugs of tea. Tilly hadn’t expected to feel so choked up being back here, but the absence of Joy was stark when so many happy memories were tied up in Joy and Logan, this house and Mull.
‘How you holding up?’ she asked. She was hardly able to believe they were sitting here together.
His laughter lines were more pronounced, but his dark curls remained as wild as they’d been when he was thirteen, although there was a touch of grey.
His face was no longer soft and boyish. He’d grown into his good looks: strong, chiselled lines, and a jawline dusted with stubble.
‘I miss her. More so here than back in Edinburgh because there are reminders everywhere. She was the heart and soul of this place.’
‘She’s here in spirit.’
‘Everyone keeps saying that, but it doesn’t change the reality. It’s the same as when Mum died. I missed her every day. I still do.’
‘Oh Logan, I’m so sorry.’ Tilly reached for his hand. He’d lost his mum before they’d met each other, and she remembered how broken he’d been at boarding school. They’d bonded through mutual loneliness and heartache.
Darkness loomed, as if a blind had been pulled down over the window, shuttering out the light. Fat drops of rain splattered against the glass as the storm over the mountain swept across the garden towards the loch.
‘I was going to suggest we venture out for dinner, but perhaps not,’ Logan said.
‘It might clear up. We could always brave a trip to the pub. Although it didn’t look open when I passed.’
‘It will be this evening. It’s under new management and had a refurb, but it’s still the same.’ Logan lifted his mug and blew on the tea. ‘It’s been nearly fourteen years since that summer.’
‘We’ve been back since.’
‘Only briefly together.’
They fell silent, sipping their tea and listening to the rain thundering down.
Tilly noticed a photo of them both on the mantel above the range cooker.
They had drunken smiles and their arms across each other’s shoulders.
Joy had taken it on their last evening after they’d staggered back from the pub. It seemed a lifetime ago.
Bang bang bang.
A thudding knock on the front door startled Tilly and set Barney barking. He scrabbled up from beneath the table and dashed across the flagstones.
‘Who on earth is that in this weather?’ Tilly asked.
Logan scraped back his chair and sighed. ‘I have a pretty good idea.’
Tilly followed him through the house and stood back as he opened the front door. Barney squeezed past to stand in the doorway with his tail wagging. The rain was falling so hard now, the garden looked as if it was shrouded in a grey mist.
An elderly man stood on the doorstep and it was only when he pulled back his hood that Tilly recognised him as Joy’s neighbour Ivor: a little more stooped and a lot greyer, his frown lines deeper.
‘I saw the campervan in the drive,’ he said in his gruff Scottish accent. ‘Assumed someone was here.’
‘Hello, Ivor,’ Logan said with an air of resignation. Tilly could have sworn his shoulders slumped as he stepped back to let him in. ‘Tilly’s not long arrived, but I got here yesterday.’
‘I didn’t see a car yesterday.’
‘That’s because Rosie picked me up from Craignure.’
Barmaid Rosie was a name Tilly recognised – Logan’s own summer fling.
‘I was planning on popping by to say hello,’ Logan continued at Ivor’s grunted acknowledgement, ‘there’s just been lots to sort out, but it’ll be easier now Tilly’s here to help.’
‘You’re the property developer?’ Each word was laced with contempt as Ivor’s milky eyes shifted in her direction.
‘Um, yes, I’m Tilly, we met years ago—’
‘Aye, I remember,’ he said tightly. ‘You’re back after so long now Joy—’ He cut himself short, and his shuddery breath was swallowed by the swirling wind and the slanting rain battering into him.
‘Ivor, come in and talk inside.’ Logan pulled the door wide. ‘You can wait here till the storm blows over.’
Ivor batted his hand, his watery eyes flashing with anger.
‘I’ll not set foot in there, not now—’ He cleared his throat as a pained expression washed across his features, and his frown deepened.
‘It’s just you taking over the house, with her here getting it ready to sell to some other developer who will ruin all that Joy built.
Outsiders the both of you.’ He muttered something else, but it was lost to the striking rain and the howling wind.
He stalked off, leaning into the wind, striding quickly despite his slight frame and hunched shoulders.
‘Ivor!’ Logan yelled. ‘Shit. I should go after him, but it’ll likely make things worse.’
‘Will he be all right?’ Tilly frowned as Logan shut the door on the rain and Ivor’s retreating back.
‘He’s survived until now being this stubborn; he’ll be fine.’
Tilly shivered as they returned to the warmth of the kitchen. Barney curled up again beneath the table, resting against Tilly’s foot. The rain battered the window, and she was relieved to have got here before the storm broke.
‘He always was grumpy, that’s my only real memory of him – and his soft spot for Joy,’ Tilly said, ‘but this is on a whole new level.’
Logan grunted. ‘He’s never forgiven me for breaking up with Màiri.’
‘Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that.’ Tilly had never believed that Ivor’s daughter and Logan had been well suited, and they hadn’t lasted, but they had been together for a couple of years when Logan had lived with Joy after university.
‘He wasn’t that keen on me before I went out with her – the only time I ever saw him smile was around my aunt. I’ve been in his bad books ever since and now…’
Tilly understood that losing Joy had made the relationship between Logan and Ivor so much worse.
Add her into the mix – an outsider in his eyes, and a property developer to boot – and she could see where his animosity was coming from.
In Tilly’s mind, a bit of cosmetic work before putting the house on the market was the sensible thing to do, because however much Logan loved Mull and Aunt Joy’s house, his aunt was no longer here and his life was elsewhere, much like Tilly’s.