Chapter Five
Brodie unlocked the door to the flat and strode upstairs, two at a time.
He was never one to blow his own trumpet but looking around at the flat now, he was pleased at what he’d managed to achieve with the space.
It was bright and open with light pouring in through the sash and case windows into the living room which he’d painted in a soft white.
He’d given the main bedroom a neutral colour theme and added some panelling to the walls.
Millie had made a special request for her room.
She wanted it painted bright yellow, ‘like the sun’.
Gillian had winced when she had told Brodie, thinking that sunshine yellow might be a bit garish.
But Brodie had reassured her and told her he’d found a softer lemon shade which he thought would work well.
He had stencilled Millie’s name on the wall in a darker yellow which he hoped she would like.
It was all to be a surprise for Millie, and Gillian had purchased a new quilt with yellow daisies for her room and a sunshine cushion.
It all seemed like a good compromise and he hoped the little girl would like it.
Gillian had decided to leave Brodie to it, wanting the end result to be a surprise.
Brodie had sanded and varnished all the floorboards throughout which had been hidden under an old tatty carpet; and replaced the grotty old kitchen with chalky coloured units and a Belfast sink.
The bathroom had also been hauled out and replaced with a new, fresh suite.
The blue patterned mosaic floor tiles would be the final thing to lay before he did the last bit of painting.
Brodie could do most things apart from tiling, which he had previously attempted and badly, and so had called in a favour from a friend who was coming over at the end of the week to complete the last task.
Brodie was a perfectionist and would never cut corners, unlike some cowboys in the profession.
He was regularly being asked to sort out hatchet jobs other tradesmen had done.
Brodie walked into the living room where he needed to give the window frames one final coat of paint.
He reached for his paintbrush, wrapped in aluminium foil to stop it from drying out, and was about to start unwrapping it when he felt his pocket start to vibrate.
It was his pager for the rescue boat. As a voluntary crew member, he would drop everything and run if someone was at risk on the loch, no matter the timing.
He put the brush down and made towards the door.
He had lost count of the times he had to run off from gardening jobs, cancel coffee orders at the bakery or café, or forgo it mid-sip.
He’d also had to abandon dates in local restaurants.
His last girlfriend, Hilary, had been so unimpressed at being left sitting alone in the pub one night after his pager went off, that she dumped him shortly after.
She said she wanted someone who would turn up to meet her for dinner or drinks and actually stay.
Brodie had been hurt and resolutely single ever since.
He didn’t want the hassle or the guilt that came with letting someone down.
He had been on the crew for the last three years, joining shortly after he moved to Rowan Bay.
On sunny days like this it was hard to believe anyone could get into difficulty on the loch.
But experience had also sadly taught him how the weather could quickly change, putting people at risk.
The sun could disappear behind a cloud, the wind could pick up and the rain could start battering down.
Scottish weather could be unforgiving at all times of the year.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he ran onto the high street and sprinted towards the rescue boat station at the jetty, wondering what kind of rescue they faced today.