CHAPTER SIX
Huntly followed Mari inside the flat. His tall, broad shouldered, masculine stature seemed to fill it, highlighted in the night glow that streamed like silver through the windows.
She turned a lamp on, put her bag down and went over to where the jumpers were neatly folded.
Huntly glanced around the little flat. The crafted items created a homeliness, from the crocheted blanket on the couch to the pretty appliqué cushions. The bedroom door was open and he glimpsed the patchwork quilt on the bed. ‘This is cosy.’
‘I like it. And as I said, the view is wonderful.’
Huntly went over to the window and peered out, seeing a view of the city that was a variation of the one he had from his turret.
‘You probably have an outstanding view of Edinburgh from above the theatre,’ she said.
‘I do. But this view is beautiful.’ The city glittered as if sprinkled with starlight. He glanced up at the night sky. ‘And look at the stars.’
Mari stood beside Huntly, and for a moment they shared the view.
The thickness of the walls shut out the world, and in the quietude she wondered if he could hear the excited beating of her heart.
A starry night together to remember, she thought, before stepping back from the temptation of Huntly.
‘These are the jumpers,’ she said, showing him her latest designs.
Huntly lifted each one up and held them in front of himself. ‘Would you mind if I try them on? I know it’s late.’
‘Help yourself. See how they feel when you wear them.’
He took his waistcoat off and put the Aran knit on over his shirt.
‘I love this,’ he said.
Mari checked that the sleeves were the right length and the shoulders were a comfortable fit. She nodded. ‘It fits you well.’
‘I’ll buy it.’ And then he tried on the Fair Isle.
Again, Mari checked that it fitted him. ‘These are all a medium to large size, but I like to make them slightly generous so they’re comfy to wear over a shirt or tee.’
‘This feels so comfy, I don’t want to take it off.’ But he did, so he could try on the grey jumper.
‘You suit the grey too,’ she said, reaching up to check that it sat well on his shoulders. And for a moment, she met his gaze as he looked down at her. The look in those fabulous sapphire eyes of his melted her heart.
Huntly sensed the spark of attraction between them, and fought the urge to lean down and claim her sweet lips with his.
Mari stepped back, pretending she hadn’t sensed the burning passion that had ignited between them.
Huntly feigned more interest in the jumpers than in Mari. ‘Can I take these with me?’
‘What, all three jumpers?’
‘If they’re for sale.’ He was still wearing the grey one.
‘They are.’
Mari put them in a bag along with his waistcoat.
He insisted on making the payment there and then, online to her website.
‘I see that you’ve got your own label sewn into the jumpers,’ he remarked.
‘Yes, I stitch them into all the garments I knit.’
Then he noticed one of her wooden drop spindles on the table beside a bundle of wool fibres and recognised it from the picture she’d shown to him earlier.
He put his bag down and picked it up, eyeing it from all angles. ‘I can’t fathom how you’d spin your own wool with this.’
Mari took the spindle off him, lifted up the bundle of wool and gave him a brief demonstration. ‘There’s a little hook at the top of the spindle that I use to attach the wool fibres, teasing them out gently so that they twist clockwise around the spindle into a single strand of yarn.’
Huntly watched, fascinated as the yarn was spun in front of him.
‘Do you want to try it?’ she offered. ‘It’s a bit fiddly until you get the hang of it. But it’s fun to spin your own yarn.’
‘I’ll give it a go,’ he said, letting her take charge of his hands, showing him how to tease the fibres with his fingers, and then smiled as the spindle started to spin a thin strand.
‘You really are annoyingly good at everything, aren’t you,’ she said playfully.
Huntly smiled. ‘No, I’m all bluff and thunder.’
‘That’s not true,’ she argued lightly. ‘Even Niall and Jon think you are.’
‘They’re biased.’
Mari shook her head, and watched as he continued to spin a bit more yarn. ‘If I ever need a hand to help me spin yarn, I’ll give you a call.’
‘You can always call me,’ he said, with an extra hint of something she wasn’t sure of, but it caused that fluttering in her heart again.
He handed her back the spindle.
She tied the long strand of yarn he’d spun into a tidy sample and gave it to him. ‘Here’s a keepsake of your first hand spun piece of yarn.’
Huntly clasped it and smiled. ‘Thank you. I will keep this.’ To remember the exciting day they’d had, and the evening, culminating in him being here with her in the flat, learning to spin yarn late at night when the rest of the sensible world was tucked up in bed.
As she put the spindle away in one of her craft boxes, he noticed the box filled with the plays she’d collected.
‘I love reading original plays, and books about plays,’ she explained. ‘I’ve collected a few.’
He nodded, impressed. And then glanced around. ‘Do you write in here, on your own, or do you sit in cafes, or outdoors when the weather is fine?’
‘I write everything in here. I prefer to work on my own where it’s quiet. I don’t even like background music when I’m writing.’
‘I’m not a writer, but I can understand you wanting calm and quiet to work. I prefer to think things through at the end of a long, busy day, at home. Though I do love to cook,’ he admitted. ‘That helps me to unwind, and there’s the benefit of eating a tasty dinner.’
‘I can cook, but it’s nothing too fancy. Just plain, old–fashioned, cooking.’
‘There’s nothing better than a home cooked meal and great company to share it with.’ Don’t do it, he instantly urged himself. Do not invite her to have dinner. ‘Let me cook dinner for you one evening. The kitchen upstairs from the theatre is kitted out for cooking various cuisine.’
Mari blinked. Was he inviting her to have a romantic dinner with him?
Her look made him realise he should’ve listened to himself. ‘As friends, nothing more. No kissing clauses or anything like that.’ Jeez, he thought, get a grip. He sounded like a total fool.
‘Okay.’
That one word of acceptance saved him from nose diving into deeper trouble.
‘Great. We’ll arrange an evening to suit us both.’ He hoped his tone sounded nonchalant.
Mari wondered if she’d misconstrued his kind offer to cook dinner. She shook the other thoughts away. Huntly was just being friendly, and after all, they were going to be working closely together on the play.
Huntly checked the time. ‘Right, I think we should get to bed now.’
Mari’s mind flipped, and she stared wide–eyed at him.
‘What I mean is,’ he corrected himself, wishing he could rewind his remark, ‘it’s late. I should go and let you get some sleep.’ He headed for the door, taking the bag of jumpers with him. ‘See you tomorrow around the same time.’
‘For elevenses,’ she said, smiling.
‘That usually ends up being nearer twelve.’
Smiling at her with that sensual grin, Huntly left the flat wearing the grey jumper and with his waistcoat tucked into the bag with the other two new purchases.
Mari locked the door after he’d gone, and then couldn’t resist peering out the front window, watching him walk along the cobbled street.
Sensing her watching, or hoping she was there, Huntly glanced up at the window, waved, and walked away into the night.
He heard his footsteps on the cobbles in the quiet of the evening, and felt the autumn air try and fail to get through his new, cosy jumper. There was something extra about the feel of it. Not just the soft yarn in shades of grey, or the intricate texture of the pattern, like cables entwined on the front of it. But knowing that Mari had knitted it brought a special quality that he couldn’t quite define. Or didn’t want to, for it could only lead to him developing feelings for her that wouldn’t work out. Mari had been wrong when she said he was good at everything. The one thing that mattered most was his greatest failure — romance. Finding true love was as elusive as the magical elements she’d woven into her play.
Reaching the theatre, he headed up to the turret.
He kept the main lights and lamps off, and got ready for bed by the glow of the twinkle lights that were draped around the windows’ panoramic views.
He put his new jumpers away in the wardrobe, then stripped off and put on a pair of grey silk bottoms. Standing for a moment gazing out at the glittering cityscape, he thought he saw a black cat sitting on a distant rooftop looking over at him. In the blink of an eye, it had gone.
Putting it down to all the talk of the play’s mysterious cat, Huntly got into bed, pulled the covers up and fell asleep.
The night sky was particularly bright with stars, and Mari lay in bed gazing out the window, rewinding the events of the day, and the evening, particularly the part where Huntly was in her flat.
Planning the most efficient way to organise the following day, she drifted off to sleep.
In the depths of the night she woke up, her mind alert with ideas of what to write for the play’s synopsis.
Sitting up in bed, she flicked the lamp on, grabbed the notepad and pen she kept on her bedside table, and began scribbling it down. Maybe when she read it in the morning, it would be nothing more than midnight meanderings, but hopefully it would give her rough notes she could tidy up into the synopsis.
She was sure that Huntly and the others didn’t expect her to write something overnight, but it would be handy to be able to give them a rough outline for their initial approval.
As the storyline took shape on the paper, she glanced again out the window at the starry sky, thinking that here she was in the city, writing into the night, before turning the light off and snuggling down again.
Blinking awake to the sound of her early morning alarm, she sat up and grabbed the notepad, hoping the scribbles made sense.
A deep breath of relief washed over her. They were rough, but coherent.
Throwing back the covers, she jumped into her slippers and scurried through to her laptop where she sat down and started to type everything she’d written, tidying up the synopsis. She added to it with a fresh eye, changed a paragraph around, and before she’d showered or had breakfast, the synopsis was done.
Mentally punching the air that the pressure of that task had lifted, she got showered and dressed ready to start her busy day. Beginning with a mug of tea and hot buttered toast.
She wore a soft pink jumper with her cinnamon cords and comfy pumps, and popped downstairs to the craft shop with her parcels for posting to customers, wondering how Ivy would react when she told her the news about her play.
Pretty bunting fluttered in the bright morning breeze, but as she was used to Ivy’s lovely window displays, she didn’t think anything of it. Two crochet cats, one knitted cushion cat and a quilted kitty sat inside along with a colourful selection of yarn and fat quarter bundles of fabric for crafts and quilting.
Mari walked in with her parcels and was greeted with cheering and clapping from Ivy.
Hurrying round from behind the counter, Ivy grabbed the parcels off her, put them down with the others for collection, and then beamed the biggest smile at Mari.
‘Well done, Mari!’ Ivy then smothered her in a hug.
Mari wasn’t sure what the extra warm welcome was for, but then it became clear.
‘Heather told me about your play,’ Ivy said, looking thrilled. ‘That’s marvellous. I didn’t know you were a secret playwright.’
‘I’ve been working on my writing for a while. I never thought I’d have this play performed at the theatre. I’m still pinching myself with the whole whirlwind of excitement.’
‘No wonder,’ Ivy agreed. She clicked her fingers. ‘I heard that Huntly and Niall snapped up your play as soon as they read it. And Heather says you’re working with them in the theatre now.’
‘I am, but I’m still going to be doing my knitting, and taking the classes.’
‘Yes, Heather mentioned that too.’
‘I’ll be taking my knitting with me to the theatre and working on it between the rehearsals for the play.’
‘It’s so handy to be able to juggle both. And I’ll help wiggle your schedule around the play commitments,’ Ivy assured her. ‘What a wonderful new career path. A playwright!’
‘I’m still not used to that title, and not sure if I merit it yet.’
‘Oh, hush, that’s silly talk. Heather says the play’s going full steam ahead.’
‘It is. I’m due up at the theatre for eleven this morning.’
The shop door opened wide and in walked Bob, carrying a large celebration cake. The same type he’d made and delivered to the theatre, only this one had white chocolate curls and raspberry jam filling.
‘Stand aside, girls. Make way for the cake.’
Laughing, Mari and Ivy stepped back as Bob put the cake down on the counter.
Ivy ran through to the back kitchen and put the kettle on for tea, calling through to them. ‘We couldn’t let news like this go by without a wee celebration.’
Bob gave Mari a bear hug. ‘Well done, lass. We’re delighted for you.’
‘Thank you, you’re so kind.’ Mari felt herself well up.
The front door burst open again, this time with several members of Mari’s knitting class, including Heather, and other customers from the craft shop.
Under a blanket of cuddles and congratulations, tea and cake was served up, and the cheery chatter circled around Mari, with everyone sharing in the excitement.
Lots of photos were taken and these were due to be put up on the craft shop website.
The whirlwind of publicity had started, Mari realised amid the melee.
Heather nudged Mari. ‘Huntly seems quite taken with you.’
Ivy picked up on this snippet. ‘Oooh! The handsome Huntly. Is there romance in the air?’
Before Mari could respond, Heather replied. ‘Definitely, but I think he’s trying not to overstep the mark with our Mari.’
The others were all keen to hear the details.
Mari tried to tame the gossip. ‘Huntly’s been a total gentleman. Generous and kind.’
‘Well, I think there are sparks between you,’ said Heather.
There were giggles and gossip, and somewhere in it all, Mari let slip that she’d invited Huntly up to her flat to try on the jumpers.
Lots more giggles and playful comments rippled around the shop, and even Mari laughed amid her blushing.
‘Huntly has a firm rule not to get involved romantically with anyone he works with,’ Mari told them.
Heather smiled knowingly. ‘Huntly’s always been a rule breaker.’
‘Just watch that he doesn’t break your heart,’ said Ivy.
‘Nothing like that is going to happen,’ Mari insisted. ‘I’m working with Huntly and that’s all.’
‘You’d better skedaddle,’ Ivy said to Mari, checking the time. ‘It’s nearly eleven.’
‘I’ll walk up to the theatre with you,’ Heather offered. ‘I’m fitting Andy and some of the other actors for their costumes.’
Thanking everyone for the special celebration, Mari ran up to her flat, threw on her denim jacket, and grabbed her bags. One had her laptop. The other was a handy zipped holdall for carrying her knitting with her. She’d packed it ready to run, with two jumpers she was working on and a scarf.
Running back down, she waved through the shop window to Ivy and the others, and then walked up to the theatre, chatting to Heather.
‘I see you’ve brought your knitting with you,’ Heather remarked.
‘I’m planning to knit while I’m there.’
Heather opened her bag to show what she’d purchased in the craft shop while waiting for Mari. ‘I bought one of Ivy’s kits to knit a black cat.’ It consisted of the pattern, a picture of the finished cat, soft stuffing, and enough yarn to knit the item.
‘Seeing them in the window, it’s put me in the notion to knit a black cat,’ Mari admitted. ‘I have a pattern for a white cat I designed years ago. I could knit it in black instead.’
‘You should knit it. There’s always time to relax between the busy bits at the rehearsals. But this new play has certainly got everyone extra busy to get the show ready on time. I’m reworking some of the costumes.’
‘I had a peek at the costumes hanging on the rails. Some of the dresses looked gorgeous. Did you make them?’
‘I made a few, but I have a couple of dressmakers to help me. Drop by wardrobe and try on any of the dresses you want. I picture you’d look like a fairytale princess in one of the ball gowns.’
‘I saw one that looked like it was sprinkled with starlight.’
‘Those sequins and beads were added by hand. But I love making the dresses. Huntly and Niall inherited lots of the costumes when they took on the theatre, and they’ve bought more.’
Chatting about the costumes and knitting, they headed into the theatre around eleven.
‘I’m through in wardrobe. Drop by for a chat and a cuppa.’
‘I will,’ said Mari.
They walked into the auditorium that was busy with activity. Huntly and Niall were down at the front seats deep in conversation, while Jon was on stage with Andy.
Heather whispered to Mari as they walked down the centre aisle. ‘Is that one of your jumpers Huntly is wearing?’
He’d worn the stylish Fair Isle with dark trousers.
‘Yes,’ Mari confirmed. ‘It suits him. He’s got the broad shoulders and lean waist and hips to make it look great.’
‘Maybe he’s trying to impress you.’
‘Ssh!’ Mari scolded her playfully. ‘He’ll hear you. The sound carries in this theatre.’
Without turning round, Huntly spoke up. ‘It certainly does.’
Heather hurried away, giggling to herself.
Blushing as she walked up to join him and Niall, Mari put on a bold smile.
‘I wrote the synopsis,’ she said, steering the conversation away from her embarrassment.
‘Ah!’ Jon announced. ‘Our wordsmith is here. I need to talk to Mari before you discuss the synopsis.’
‘I’ve emailed a copy of it to you,’ Mari said to Huntly, and then she was happy to scarper away while it was read, and join Jon and Andy up on the stage.