Chapter Thirteen
Monty
M onty woke up to the pale morning light filtering through the thin white curtains in the annex. He’d been sleeping fairly well since he got to the island, and it was hard to wake up. The sea air was working wonders – such a luxury not having to get up for work. The week was passing too quickly though, and his time here would end before he knew it and he’d be back doing nine till five.
Ah well, such was life.
He rubbed at the corner of his eye, then reached for his glasses and his phone on the nightstand. Still lying in bed, he started swiping through his photos from the day before. Stunning beaches, rugged hills, and a few selfies flipped past. Damn it. He’d forgotten to get photos of the bodyboarding. He’d been so fixated on doing it, he hadn’t thought to make a record of it. Would there be another chance? Part of him hoped so, but another part wanted to say he’d done it now and be done with.
He frowned. He’d heard about a water sports festival coming up. It hadn’t been something that much interested him, and he had no desire to take part, but… Well, something about it lodged in his mind. What did a water sports festival entail? He wasn’t sure he really wanted to examine his thoughts on the matter, so he parked it.
What he wanted to see right now was whether or not Sophie had made any comment on his social media post about scattering his father’s ashes. He opened the page and scrolled to the post. Nope . Not even a like. Other people had commented, sending love and condolences. He liked and replied to the comments, before heading to Sophie’s page. More photos had appeared of her out at a street bar with friends, including some men. Was she dating? Of course she was at perfect liberty to do so. They’d split up after all, but his stomach twisted at the thought. Still, it was fine. Once he got back, he’d be in a better place, and she might be too. Maybe she’d discover these other guys were even more ‘boring’.
Was that likely? He pulled a face, his mind supplying an answer that he didn’t want to hear.
How would it be if he posted some of his own photos and at least mention the bodyboarding? Maybe that would attract her attention. He selected a few of the best beach shots and a selfie with the ocean in the background. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing out a comment.
Tried bodyboarding for the first time yesterday. Amazing experience.
He hit post. Would Sophie even see it? Maybe she never looked at his page or maybe she’d snoozed it from her feed. Anything was possible, but he crossed his fingers. Please see this. He was desperate to know what she’d make of him being adventurous. Speaking of which… His fingers tapped at the screen, putting in the name Iona McKenzie. A few results came up but only one caught his eye. A tanned beauty in a bikini with long brown wavy hair spilling over her shoulder. She leaned on a surfboard, beaming back at him. Wow, she was hot. He always saw her looking a bit thrown together in casual clothes or a wetsuit, but this. He took a long, slow breath and blew it out like a whistle before opening the page.
His fingers swiped through the pictures that were public, mostly shots of her surfing, laughing with friends, and the occasional stunning sunset, and his mind drifted back to their kiss the previous day. Why had he done it?
Research?
That was all, yes?
And practise.
When he finally got Sophie back, he’d be better equipped for romance and adventure. But the taste of Iona’s lips, the spark, the way she felt in his arms, lingered much longer than he wanted. So long he forgot what he’d been looking at or thinking about before.
It was just a kiss. I was pretending she was Sophie.
But even as he thought it, he sensed a lie. The kiss had felt a bit too real, stirring something inside him he hadn’t expected. Shaking his head, he locked his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. He rubbed at his face, trying to push away the mess. Would Sophie be annoyed he’d kissed Iona?
‘Stop,’ he muttered to himself. They’d split up. She wouldn’t care. She’d moved on, which was something Monty wasn’t good at. Maybe he should try harder. Even if it was just temporarily. This was the time to get new experiences. Then, when the time was right, he could try again.
After breakfast, Monty pulled on a sweater and stepped into the courtyard. The prospect of a day on his own felt a bit flat after the fun he’d had with Iona, which was totally stupid. It wasn’t like they were close friends. Just random acquaintances… who’d happened to have shared a kiss. She was teaching paddleboarding today, according to Catriona, when he seen her at breakfast. Monty had also asked her about the water sports festival, and Catriona confirmed it was this Saturday and Sunday, just a couple of days away. That would be the middle of his fortnight and would mark the downward turn of his holiday. He was just getting to know the place too.
Shit. He froze halfway across the yard on the way back to the annex. Iona obviously hadn’t left to teach the lessons yet. She was near an outbuilding, talking to Ruaridh. Her voice carried on the breeze. The memory of their kiss flared up, making Monty’s chest hurt. Why had he agreed to something so stupid?
He needed to avoid her for now. He couldn’t face the aftermath of what had happened or analyse why his body reacted strangely every time he saw her. He turned and nearly bumped into Alexander.
‘Morning,’ Monty said.
‘Morning.’ Alexander gave him a brief smile. He was a serious-looking guy, kind of moody and brooding, but he always said hello. Monty had seen him playing outside with the little girl he assumed was Catriona’s daughter. From what he could gather, Alexander wasn’t the father.
Scamp, the dog, leapt on Monty and tried to jump up and lick his face.
‘Down,’ Alexander said. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘It’s ok.’ Monty patted Scamp whose tongue lolled out.
‘I hear you’re a banker,’ Alexander said. Monty winced at the turn of phrase. Had Iona told him to say that?
‘That’s one name for it. More specifically, I’m a commercial banker, which probably makes it sound even worse.’
Alexander smirked. ‘I’m not meaning to be rude. Just curious. In fact, if you’re a commercial banker, that’s even better. Maybe you could have a chat with Catriona about her diversification plans.’
‘I think I put my foot in it the other day by suggesting glamping pods.’
‘No, she loved the idea. But she’s not sure how to go about it all.’ He glanced around. ‘She’s a hard worker, and she’s got some good ideas, but she can’t do everything. She thinks she can, and she doesn’t like admitting she needs help, but sometimes she does. If you were to give her professional advice, she’d take it better from you than she would from me. She reckons I interfere too much or think she’s incompetent – which I don’t at all. I think it’s incredible what someone so young has done here, but she can’t do it all alone.’
‘Well, I’ll try, but only if it comes into conversation naturally. If I bring it up, it’ll look rather suspicious.’
‘That’s true,’ Alexander agreed, then lowered his voice. ‘Also, between you and me, I’m not sure Iona’s managing that well either. She’s a bit of a flake, doesn’t really know how to run a business properly. She’s enthusiastic, I’ll give her that, but enthusiasm only gets you so far.’
Monty glanced back towards Iona, who was still deep in conversation with Ruaridh. When Monty had seen the container yesterday, it seemed well set up, as far as he could tell anyway, but he remembered the issues she had with people cancelling. Not that it was her fault, but maybe something in the setup wasn’t working. ‘I’m not a business advisor as such, and I’m not sure Iona would want me butting in with unsolicited advice.’
‘Yeah, you’re so right.’ Alexander clapped him on the shoulder. ‘And you’re on holiday. I shouldn’t be pestering you at all. I just want things to work well for them.’
‘Well, if the opportunity arises—’
‘Alexander,’ Catriona said from behind them. Monty spun around, a guilty heat rising in his cheeks. Seriously? Why did he feel like a naughty little schoolboy doing something he shouldn’t?
‘Yeah?’ Alex ran his hand through his hair as he faced Catriona.
‘Can you take the jeep into the village and get the supplies from the shop?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ He glanced back at Monty. ‘I should get on. We were just chatting about the glamping pods. Monty knows a thing or two about business. You should put your heads together.’ With a little smile and a wave, he left them.
Catriona folded her arms and watched him with narrowed eyes.
‘I… um… wouldn’t want to speak out of turn,’ Monty said.
‘It’s fine. I’m happy to do all this stuff, but I don’t have time to take long boat rides to the mainland to meet financial advisors or wait for ages on a call to be connected. My life is too busy for that.’
‘Well, I’m happy to give you a few pointers. Not now, necessarily. Just when you have a minute.’
‘I don’t want to waste your holiday. But if you did, I’d be happy to pay you with free breakfasts or dinners.’
He smiled. ‘Best deal I’ve ever made by the sound of it.’
‘Perhaps you’d be free this evening. After I’ve sorted the meals and got Eilidh settled.’
‘Sure. No problem. Is it still ok for me to borrow a car today?’
‘Yes. I’ll just get the keys.’ Catriona headed inside. She’d suggested he took her car and explored the other end of the island, and that wasn’t a bad idea. If he’d thought he could survive a four-and-a-half-hour ferry trip, he’d have brought his own car, but his relationship with water and boats meant that was a no-no. Now he knew the size of the island however, he realised he needed transport – and the bike still had the puncture.
Iona and Ruaridh had disappeared, presumably to go to work. Monty wasn’t sure what Ruaridh did, or where he lived. He seemed to be around quite a bit though. And he definitely looked like he enjoyed Iona’s company, despite what he might say.
Catriona returned with the keys and led him to a small Vauxhall. It was about fifteen years old but seemed in good shape.
‘It’s an easy car to drive. If you want to get in and check you can find everything.’
Monty got in. It was tiny compared to his car and a little clunky. He’d got so used to an electronic dashboard. These big chunky buttons were confusing at first, but he’d soon get the hang of it. He told himself that again as he pulled off less than smoothly. Driving on roads this narrow was something of a skill in itself, especially when he came upon a campervan.
He had to reverse, looking over his shoulder. Doing this without cameras and parking sensors felt like landing a plane blindfolded. He took the bends cautiously, the Vauxhall rattling over the uneven surfaces. The rugged beauty of the island stretched out around him, with rocks and sandy beaches off to the wild sea on one side and grassy hills on the other. He pulled into an open space, stepping out to take in the panorama. The fresh air filled his lungs.
‘Barra, you are a truly beautiful place.’ There was nowhere on earth quite like this.
Continuing his journey, he followed signs to a local gin distillery on the edge of Castlebay he’d read about in the guidebook Catriona had left in the annex. His mother liked gin, and this seemed something fitting to take back to her. Monty parked and headed inside. The moment he opened the door, he caught the rich scent of botanicals. He might enjoy something from here too.
‘Hello,’ a woman behind the counter said.
‘Hi.’ Monty smiled, looking around at the shelves lined with bottles of gin, each labelled with intricate designs and claiming to be the spirit of the Atlantic. A film showed the gin-making process, along with some stunning clips of the island being battered by storms and waves. A beautiful but scary place.
He perused the different gins before choosing a pink rhubarb and ginger one. His mum would like the bottle, if nothing else. The shape was curious, wide at the bottom and tapering into a very thin neck.
‘Are you on holiday?’ the woman asked as she put through the sale.
‘Yes. This week and next.’
‘And how are you enjoying it?’
‘It’s a beautiful island. I’m falling in love.’
The woman smiled. ‘It has that effect on people. I know some people who came on holiday and then returned here to live.’
Monty thanked her. He was pretty certain he wouldn’t be returning to live here. A holiday was great, but this was too far from his normal life to contemplate more.
As he left the distillery, the sun was high in the sky. He drove on over the causeway to Vatersay, stopping at a beach with a famous gate he’d seen lots of pictures of. After leaving the car and walking across a grassy strand, he found the gate and took his own picture. From there it was a short walk down a narrow gap in the dunes to a stunning beach that was almost deserted; golden sands glowed and turquoise waters glittered in the June sun. Monty walked along the shore, kicking off his shoes and letting the cool water wash over his feet. He picked up a few pebbles, tossing them into the waves. The place reminded him of the beach where he’d kissed Iona. The memory was vivid. So vivid.
And just look at me!
He was in the water, paddling. This was all Iona’s doing.
He pulled out his phone and took a few photos. He could add these to his social media page, but why bother? He had a quick look. Sophie hadn’t reacted to his post from earlier. Who knew if she’d even seen it?
Iona’s face battled in his mind with Sophie’s and he wasn’t entirely sure which one he wanted to win, but always Iona rose to the surface. Maybe just because she was here, fresh in his mind and easier to picture.
Returning to the car, he checked the map on his phone. There was still plenty of the island to see, but his thoughts kept circling back to Iona’s business. Of course he’d like to help her if she needed it, but he didn’t want her to think he was stepping on her toes. Maybe she didn’t want help. Not everyone was super organised in business. Being a ‘flake’, as Alexander had called her, was maybe just her way. She was undoubtedly spontaneous and full of energy. It could be the same for her business.
Monty stopped in Castlebay to get some food. His eyes frequently strayed to Kisimul Castle as he walked down the little street towards the shop. Dad’s ashes were there now, flying free. Maybe he was in heaven having stern words with the clan chief MacNeil who’d cut their branch of the family out of their inheritance. The thought made Monty smile. He half wished Iona was down here with her boat today. Before his time was up, he fancied another trip to Kisimul. An odd feeling rippled across his shoulders like he had unfinished business there, though what it was, he wasn’t sure.
Later in the afternoon, Monty returned to the farm and parked the Vauxhall in the small parking area to the side of the main house. It was too early for dinner, so he got his book from his bag and sat on a bench outside the annex. Reading to the gentle lilt of the sea and buzz of insects was the stuff of dreams, and Monty lost track of time completely.
Dinner was served in the same room as breakfast, and a few other guests sat around the table with Monty. One particularly chatty older woman talked to him for almost the whole meal. Her husband looked thrilled that she’d found someone to tell her stories to. Monty listened as he ate Catriona’s delicious version of a cheese and lentil pie.
‘This is our thirtieth year coming here,’ the older woman said. ‘We’ve seen so many changes.’
‘I bet.’
Catriona took the plates away and served dessert. ‘Are you still ok to chat later?’ she said as she leaned in to hand Monty his bowl of rhubarb crumble.
‘Sure am. What time?’
‘Seven thirty.’
‘I’ll be there.’
It wasn’t long to wait after dinner, so he spent some more time reading on the bench. Voices caught his attention, and he spotted Iona returning. A young man Monty didn’t recognise got out of her car with her and they laughed as they approached the house. Monty ground his teeth and tried not to look. Was this someone she’d hooked up with after a paddleboarding lesson? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
He thumped his book shut. Time to go find Catriona.
When he knocked on the kitchen door, Iona answered it, and Monty met her eyes. His insides froze. Stay calm. All he had to do was treat his interactions with her the way he would with a client.
‘Hi.’ He flexed his fingers. ‘I’m here to see Catriona.’
Iona raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. ‘Um, ok. What about?’
‘Business. She’s expecting me.’
‘Is she now? She never mentioned it. Well, come in.’ She opened the door. ‘What business are you discussing?’
‘Diversification and the like.’
‘Why would she discuss that with you?’
‘Because I’m a banker, remember? A commercial banker, in fact, and I know all about business.’
She smirked and took a swig of beer from a bottle on the table. ‘Well, she’s just putting Eilidh to bed. I expect she’ll be down in a minute.’
‘I’m here.’ Catriona marched through the door. ‘She always wants about ten extra cuddles on the nights she knows I’m busy. Come into the sunroom, we can sit in there. It’s a bit nicer.’
Monty followed her out of the kitchen, certain Iona’s eyes were following him closely.
He took a seat opposite Catriona in the small sunroom. It was a little old-fashioned, with its rattan furniture, but comfortable nonetheless.
Catriona opened a little bureau and took out a laptop. ‘Do you want to see figures? Or what? I’ve got the account sheets.’
‘It depends what your goal is. If you want to move into glamping pods, you need to write an action plan. Decide the location, check if planning consent is needed, look into suppliers, builders, etc. Everything should be costed out as accurately as possible. Try and get a timeframe fixed and written down. I can help you draft something just now if you want. Once you have all that, you can analyse how you intend to fund it.’
Catriona raised an eyebrow. ‘Right. Ok. This is where my brain starts to overload. I’m good with the practical side of things, running this place, but the paperwork is where it gets messy.’
‘I’m the exact opposite.’ He gave her a little smile. ‘Isn’t there anyone else who can help you?’
‘Not really. My mum has a good business head, and she used to do all this, but she’s not well. She has chronic fatigue syndrome, and she spends most of her days in her cottage. Ruaridh and I go around every day and make sure she’s ok, but she isn’t up to doing anything like this.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Yeah, well. Our dad left when we were young, and the same thing happened with Eilidh’s dad. I learned to fend for myself, but this kind of thing is so alien to me.’
‘It can seem daunting, but that’s where being organised can help. A solid plan will give you the backup you need.’
‘Ok. And you can help me with that?’
‘Definitely.’ He nodded, taking off his glasses and wiping them on the bottom of his shirt. ‘If you open a document, we can get started straight away. It doesn’t have to be fancy or in any special format to start with.’
They worked on it together as the sun sank a little lower, shining brightly into the room even at this time of evening.
‘I appreciate you taking the time out of your holiday to help,’ Catriona said. ‘This is so much clearer in my mind just seeing it like this.’
‘No worries. I look forward to the free meals. You’re a great cook.’
‘Thanks.’ She grinned. ‘You’ve earned them.’
The door opened, and Iona strolled in, carrying her beer. ‘Mind if I join you for a bit? My nose is bothering me.’
‘Maybe you have hay fever,’ Monty said.
‘I meant metaphorically. As in, I want to know what you’re up to.’
He smirked because he knew fine what she meant.
‘We’re nearly done,’ Catriona said. ‘It’s nothing that would interest you. I didn’t think you were sold on the idea of glamping pods.’
She gave a little shrug. ‘Wasn’t I?’
‘I think you disliked the idea on principle,’ Monty said. ‘Because I suggested it.’
Iona sipped her beer, but it looked like she was trying to stop a laugh. ‘Maybe.’ She sat next to him, and he caught the scent of a very Iona-ish perfume. Something with sweet high notes and the undertone of sea air. It was perfect for her and sent a charge through him. He held his breath. Do not let her affect you. Why did she affect him? What was it about her?
‘I just remembered,’ he said. ‘I was supposed to pay you for the trip to Kisimul Castle. But you never said how much.’
‘I’ll think about my price and let you know.’ She winked at him. ‘I’m sure a banker has money to toss around.’
He folded his arms. ‘I’m sure I don’t.’
‘You know what?’ Catriona said to Iona. ‘You should talk to Monty about business too. I’m sure he’d have good ideas for you.’
‘My business is just fine,’ Iona said.
‘You’re always moaning about it.’ Catriona closed the lid of her laptop.
‘Only because people keep cancelling on me last minute.’
‘Maybe you need a more robust cancellation plan,’ Monty suggested.
‘Maybe you need to keep your mouth shut until I ask for your help.’
Bristly Iona was back, and he wasn’t surprised. This was exactly how he’d expected her to react, and she had a point. None of it was his business. He held up his hands, but the way she was eyeing him looked more inquisitive than angry.
‘Iona, really!’ Catriona gave her a pointed look. ‘Remember that thing we talked about? Being nice to the guests and all that.’
‘I doubt that works for me,’ Monty said.
Iona watched him closely and his breath caught again. ‘You’re right. It doesn’t.’
Catriona stood up and put the laptop away in the bureau. ‘Well, at least try.’ She shut the bureau with a sharp click. ‘Thank you, Monty. I appreciated that.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He got to his feet, not looking at Iona. ‘I look forward to seeing how everything turns out. Maybe I’ll come back in a few years and stay in a glamping pod.’
‘Sounds right up Sophie’s alley.’ Iona sipped more beer, not meeting his eye.
‘Indeed. Well, goodnight.’ He shook Catriona’s hand, and she smiled at him.
‘Night. See you tomorrow.’
Before he left, he gave Iona a brief glance. She wasn’t looking at him, but staring fixedly ahead. Maybe just as well. Obviously, their kiss had done nothing except return her to her previously grumpy mood. What did it matter? It wasn’t like she was someone he was going to have anything to do with in just over a week’s time. But try as he might, he couldn’t get her out of his head. And no matter how often he reminded himself her opinion was of no consequence to him, he still felt a little nauseous. Thoughts that she was going about telling everyone what a terrible kisser he was swirled around his head so fast he felt dizzy. After sleeping so well previously, it took a long time for him to nod off that night.