Epilogue #2
Gorse Creative, named after Cal’s late wife’s love for the vibrant yellow flowers that decorated the landscape throughout spring, was a hive of industry.
The first phase had opened a year before, when Logan had set up a workshop there, eagerly making the move from the converted garage at Loch View House to a purpose-built workshop in a light and airy barn that had been divided into sections to share with other creatives – a potter and a jeweller were the first to move in.
Tilly continued to work from home, although as she was on maternity leave, her interior design business was on the back burner while she enjoyed time with Iona, but she kept busy managing the holiday rentals for Loch Cottage and Wood Farm.
She’d also put her stamp on Gorse Creative when Cal had hired her as an interior designer, taking inspiration from the farm landscape by using lots of wood and natural textures in keeping with the creative industries that Cal and his family hoped to attract.
The two renovated barns stood on either side of a spacious courtyard, newly paved and planted with grasses and trees, with cushioned benches and picnic tables for outdoor lunches when the weather was decent.
After yesterday’s rain, the opening of Gorse Creative had been blessed with cool sunshine and the island sparkled after its drenching, the autumnal colours of the trees bright and inviting.
There were lots of people already milling about on the courtyard and the doors to the workshops were thrown open.
Cal’s mum and sister were giving a few guests a tour, including Màiri who spotted them and waved.
A stooped and frail-looking Ivor gave them a tight-lipped nod.
He was sharp-tongued and miserable a lot of the time, but there’d been moments over the past couple of years when he’d opened up a little, and Tilly knew how he appreciated being able to come back to his home on Mull.
It wasn’t the same as it had been before, nothing was for any of them, but they were all making the best of things.
Tilly had no regrets about being brave enough to make a difficult suggestion, or for accepting new friends into her life without the constant fear of losing them.
They were welcomed with hellos and hugs by friends and acquaintances, while the café staff served drinks and canapés: bites of savoury crackers, local seaweed chutney and the cheese from the farm, along with homemade lemonade and their own gin and tonic.
With Logan talking to a printmaker friend and Iona asleep in her arms, Tilly made a beeline for Cal.
His two girls were around. She’d spotted them playing hide-and-seek with their older cousins.
Cal looked relaxed and Tilly understood from working with him on the project how instrumental Gorse Creative had been in his healing process, something practical and important to focus on besides his girls, something he was passionate about and which honoured his wife’s memory.
Happiness was a fickle thing, but he certainly had moments of it in his life, even if he would always grieve.
He’d remained single, but he wasn’t alone when he had a solid support network and his beloved girls.
His late wife lived on in them and maybe one day he’d be ready to open his heart to someone again.
Tilly was glad she could call herself his friend – and Logan could too. It was funny how life worked out.
‘She looks peaceful,’ Cal said as she reached him.
‘Indeed, although I doubt she’ll sleep well tonight.’ She nodded towards the guests scattered across the courtyard. ‘I’m so glad we were able to make it.’
‘I did wonder if you’d delay coming back and continue travelling.’
Tilly glanced at her daughter. ‘My days of running away are well and truly over. It’s nice to be home.’
‘It’s good to have you back, and to have you here to see all your hard work come to fruition.’
‘All my hard work?’ Tilly scoffed. ‘I played a very small part, but you’ve done an amazing job. I’d raise a toast to you if I had a drink and my hands free.’
‘Here, let me take her for a bit,’ Logan said as he joined them. They carefully transferred a sleeping Iona between them, and Cal handed Tilly a glass of the cloudy lemonade.
‘You’ll be back to work on Monday?’ Cal asked Logan.
‘I certainly will.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll miss my girls, but this is a rather nice place to be.’
‘That was the idea,’ Cal said with pride.
‘How’s my favourite goddaughter?’ Rosie appeared behind them, slid her arms across Logan and Tilly’s shoulders and plopped a kiss on Iona’s head.
‘She’s your only goddaughter!’ Logan laughed.
‘You know what I mean. She’s my favourite, end of.’ Even Cal cracked a smile at that.
* * *
The sense of community was one of the things that Tilly had grown to love more than anything, because it reminded her of when they’d been students in Edinburgh, but this was far better.
Rosie and Gill were their closest neighbours, the Garvie family were outside Tobermory and there were countless other friends on the island that they’d met through community events, Logan’s work at Gorse Creative and Tilly’s new interior design business.
Plus now, because of Iona, they had parent friends too.
Yet however good it was to explore the island and see those friends, there was no better feeling than coming home to Loch View House, particularly after a wonderful afternoon celebrating the successful launch of Cal’s venture.
The moment they pulled up at home, Iona woke screaming.
While Logan fed her a bottle, Tilly took a moment to herself.
Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she went outside to Joy’s bench, popped a mug of hot chocolate next to her and opened her journal to a blank page.
She loved her life and her family, yet she still craved those quiet times alone and Logan understood that, because he’d always understood her.
The sunshine danced on the loch and the hills opposite were autumn-tinged.
The colourful gorse would be dormant until later on in the winter, while the grass was coated with frost in the mornings and the sky was ice-blue on a day as clear as this.
The sun would be setting soon and it was already chilly.
She’d soon retreat inside to the cosy comfort of home, to Logan, Iona and Barney, her family.
But first she had thoughts to put down in her journal, a habit she’d managed to continue ever since making the decision to move to Mull with Logan.
With a contented sigh, she dragged her eyes away from the glistening loch and started to write.
I love watching the landscape change as the seasons pass.
Spring and autumn are my favourite, but then there’s something special about each one, the sharp crispness of winter when the colours are distilled to grey and white, to the sun-kissed warmth of summer flooding the landscape with pops of colour.
Most of all I love the peace and contentment I’ve discovered.
Perhaps that’s gone hand in hand with getting older, but it’s also been helped by letting go of my regrets and disappointments.
Logan and I are able to give Iona the childhood we both craved.
There’s wonder here, in the landscape and in our family, watching our daughter grow and change.
I’m allowing myself to hope and dream and love, to not be afraid to embrace people and opportunities without the constant fear of disappointment and loss.
Our life on Mull was a fresh start for us both, but it’s become so much more: the place we fell in love with each other, albeit fourteen years apart; it’s where our family and friends are; it’s part of our past, it’s our future and most importantly, it’s home.
Thank you for everything, Joy – for your wisdom, your advice and your love. You’ll always be here, watching over us while flying free, seeing the wonder, hope and love you brought into our lives, but most of all I can’t thank you enough for paving the way to our happiness.