Chapter 6
Robert was my axis, my greatest love, and my best friend.
Extract from Joy’s journal
Tilly had stayed up far later than she’d intended, poring over the love story between Joy and Robert.
She’d only heard a little about him from Logan because his uncle had died long before he’d been born, and while Joy had mentioned him from time to time, Tilly understood that grief still lurked beneath the surface.
What Joy had done so well was to put her passion for Robert onto the page.
She painted a wistful picture of the past, of meeting a rugged and charming Scot in London and falling in love with him.
Within a month, he’d proposed and she’d said yes.
They’d got married shortly afterwards, much to her parents’ dismay.
Tilly loved how Joy had known her own mind at such a young age.
She’d been twenty when they’d married, younger than Tilly had been when she’d pushed away her own handsome Scot.
Had she made a mistake all those years ago?
Joy described love and romance so beautifully, but then she’d been so certain that Robert was the love of her life, while Tilly’s own thoughts about Cal had been far from clear-cut.
Perhaps love didn’t feel the same for everyone, because Tilly had never felt such certainty about any past partners.
Rubbing her eyes, she picked up the journal and read the passage she’d bookmarked the night before.
Robert wooed me with his wit and gruff charm.
We met at the opening of an exhibition in London featuring his landscapes of Mull.
My friend’s older sister worked at the art gallery and invited us.
Little did I know my chance meeting with Robert and subsequent conversation would change my life.
He was so unlike the boys I knew in London, because they were boys, while at twenty-seven, Robert was a man.
My parents had their heart set on me marrying someone of good standing in London, not a painter from a wee Scottish island, but I had never been so certain of anything in my life.
We took the sleeper train from London to Edinburgh on our second night as husband and wife.
We woke the next morning to the view of snow-dusted mountains and a land of green valleys and forested hills; I had never seen a more beautiful sight.
With Robert beside me, I knew I’d made the right choice.
Not once did I wonder if I’d been too hasty, because the feelings of peace, certainty, togetherness and love when I was with him told me all I needed to know.
I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else or returning to my old life in London with my parents and little sister, even though I missed her terribly.
He had my heart and soul, and I his, always.
Reading about love after her recent break-up left Tilly melancholic.
Not that her relationship with Stefan had been anything like Joy’s love story, but Tilly had committed to someone for the first time in her life.
They’d moved in together, which had felt a huge step towards a proper relationship.
She’d put her trust in someone, tentatively imagining a future together – until he’d stomped all over her heart.
True love seemed to only exist between the pages of a book. Or, in this case, the pages of a journal.
Bleary-eyed, she put Joy’s journal on the bedside table, dragged herself out of bed and opened the curtains.
The chill morning air seeped in through the wooden frame.
Yesterday’s rain had cleared and the sky was a duck-egg blue above the silver-grey of the loch.
In the garden, mist had collected in patches, streaking across the grass and forming dense pockets around the trees.
She could stand here for hours soaking up the view, waiting to see what birds and wildlife would appear, except goosebumps stole across her arms and she desperately needed a wee.
She snatched up a cardigan and threw it on as she crossed her room and padded barefoot into the hallway.
Yawning, she pushed open the bathroom door, realising too late that it was already occupied.
‘Jesus, Tilly!’
Tilly slammed the bathroom door shut, the sight of Logan butt-naked in the shower seared onto her retinas.
‘It’s nothing I haven’t seen before!’ she shouted back, yet she grimaced because their drunken antics at university felt worlds away from sharing a house aged thirty-four. Even if they’d stayed in regular contact through phone calls and texts, it wasn’t the same as spending time with each other.
Her heart was racing and it wasn’t only from the shock of walking in on him, but more about liking what she’d seen.
Logan was easy on the eye. He was her best friend and it was that connection, friendship and ease with each other that had captivated her, but she’d always appreciated his looks.
What made him all the more attractive was who he was: the one person in the world she could trust and rely on.
She knew he felt the same way, even if an attraction had never manifested into anything more than them being the closest of friends.
Yet he’d just managed to send her heart spinning and make her palms sweat for all the wrong reasons. Or were they the right ones?
The goosebumps on her arms had turned into chills of a different kind, and she retreated to the downstairs loo feeling hot and bothered. She made a coffee and escaped outside to soak up the view of the loch in an attempt to rid herself of the image of Logan in the shower.
She sat on the kitchen step, Joy’s favourite spot, with her chunky cardigan pulled tight and the mug of coffee warming her hands.
The view was almost the same as from her bedroom, but from this angle she could see the bench beneath the oak on the far side of the meadow, which had been her favourite place to write.
Reading Joy’s journal and being swept up in her love story, followed by the shock of walking in on Logan, had left Tilly confused.
When Joy had met Robert in the mid-1960s, it seemed to have been a different time, with good old-fashioned chivalry and courting.
A swift marriage proposal would have been normal, enabling two people in love to live together.
Had love and romance been more clear-cut back then?
Tilly had never been good at romantic relationships; she had a string of disasters behind her, the latest one still fresh.
Here, all sorts of emotions had been stirred: reminders of Cal, the loss of Joy, and much-needed time with Logan, although right now even that felt complicated and Tilly was glad to have some time to herself out here.
She only returned inside when she heard footsteps and the kettle starting to boil.
Logan was fully clothed in jeans and a pine-green jumper that hugged his broad shoulders. Their eyes met and he ran a hand through his mop of dark curls. Barney padded over, snuffling his nose against her leg before trotting outside.
‘First job,’ she said once Barney had returned and she’d closed the back door on the chill morning. ‘Put a lock on the bathroom door.’
‘There is one,’ Logan said as he dropped two slices of granary bread into the toaster. ‘But I forgot to lock it and Aunt Joy was always polite enough to knock first.’
‘Well, you know me.’ Tilly shrugged. ‘Do first, think later.’
‘Noted. I will lock the door in future.’ He grabbed plates from the cupboard and butter from the fridge, but she noticed the tension in his shoulders.
Tilly inwardly sighed; this shouldn’t be awkward, it was Logan after all. ‘Remember streaking through the halls during our first year?’
‘Oh God, yeah.’ He turned and leaned his hands on the work surface. ‘Anything for a free pint.’
‘That was of utmost importance back in the day.’
He folded his arms. ‘You only got as far as the first door if I remember.’
He dropped his gaze from hers. She’d only been in knickers with her arm held over her breasts as she’d shot the short distance along the corridor cheered on by their friends. It hadn’t bothered her back then that Logan had seen her practically naked, yet for some reason it mattered now.
‘I chickened out after the first run. But you…’ Logan had had no qualms about running the furthest and had succeeded in winning that pint.
Perhaps the reason it made a difference now was because she was more self-aware and responsible.
She had always been a do first, think later kind of person, but even that had changed with adulthood and responsibility and a business where she was juggling large amounts of money buying and selling houses – making a mistake would impact her profit.
She’d be unlikely to play strip poker or streak through a public hallway now.
The toast popped up and Logan whipped back round, seemingly relieved to focus on buttering the toast instead of looking at her. It was Monday morning and they needed a fresh start; perhaps it was time to change the subject.
‘What do you want me to get started on today?’ Tilly stroked Barney as she sat at the table. Logan joined her with two plates of marmite toast. ‘I’m here to help, so put me to work.’
‘My priorities are to get things organised for the celebration on the weekend, sort through Aunt Joy’s belongings and finish up the paperwork side of things,’ he said with a sigh.
The emotional stuff, Tilly thought.
‘Work-wise, though, the garden needs tackling while it’s dry and Aunt Joy had intended to give the cottage a spring clean and refresh the paint before she… you know.’
‘And the house?’ Tilly crunched into her buttery toast. ‘It’s looking a bit tired, but a quick refresh would sort it out, particularly if you’re intending to sell it?’
Logan bit into his toast and looked at her across the table.
His eyes seemed bluer than normal, which made her think he was on the verge of crying.
She could tell he was trying to suppress his emotions.
‘I honestly don’t know what’s for the best. I might phone an estate agent in Oban at some point to talk things through.
Lots to decide. But decorating-wise, stuff needs touching up.
The last time I was here, I brought some paint with me.
Take a look in the shed. If we need anything else, we can try Brown’s in Tobermory. We also need to stock up on food.’
They made a plan over their coffee and toast about what to tackle first.
‘I also want us to take some time out and enjoy being here, not work constantly.’ He drained his coffee and looked pointedly at her. ‘What do you want to do for your birthday? I know what I’d like to do for mine. Our thirty-fifth, can you believe it?’
Yes, she could believe it, but she hadn’t expected to be together with Logan on Mull for their birthdays, which were just a day apart.
Did he remember the promise they’d made all those years ago, that if, in the unlikely event they were both single when they turned thirty-five, then they should marry each other?
They hadn’t mentioned it since, and she wasn’t sure bringing it up was a wise idea, when they should be focusing on giving their friendship an MOT.
It had been a flippant, drunken suggestion because she’d been positive that they’d be in very different places relationship-wise at this age.
Yet here they were, single, and days away from both of their birthdays.
‘Yours is first,’ she said, meeting his eyes. ‘What are your plans?’
‘I’d like a day off, to not think about anything in particular. A walk, a pint and some grub.’
‘Sounds good.’ She glanced across the kitchen to the photo of them aged twenty-one on the mantel above the stove.
‘I’d love to do the west coast drive. Maybe go to Iona and then Lochbuie if there’s time as I’ve always wanted to go there.
Oh, and eat seafood. I’m so often working on my birthday, it’ll make a change to take time out. ’
‘I also need to think about what to do with Aunt Joy’s ashes.’
‘She wasn’t specific about what she wanted?’
‘She asked for them to be scattered, but she didn’t say where. Seems she wanted to leave that up to me. I’ve got this week to think about it. I’d like to scatter them after Sunday’s celebration party. It seems fitting.’ He smiled sadly as he got up and grabbed Barney’s lead off the hook.
‘We’ll come up with something,’ Tilly said softly as Barney shot to his feet, tail wagging.
Logan nodded stiffly. He clasped her shoulder as he went past. ‘The bathroom’s free by the way.’ The smile reached his eyes this time. He leaned close, his breath caressing her ear in a way that made her own breath hitch. ‘And I promise to always knock first.’
Then he was out of the door with Barney on his heels, leaving Tilly feeling confused and flustered as an image of Logan in the shower invaded her thoughts.