Chapter 19
NINETEEN
‘Darling, you look haggard. What’s up?’ Dom met her at the harbour, outside the SS Margaret.
He was carrying a bag from the best bakery in Portree, which was called Bessie’s.
Two portable coffee cups sat on the ground at his feet.
He immediately gave her a bear-like hug and stepped back to take her in. ‘You’ve been crying. What is it?’
‘Oh, god. I could do with a coffee. Then I’ll tell you.’ Sorrel thought she’d done an okay job in reapplying her makeup when she’d parked her car at the harbour, but obviously not well enough to pass Dom’s notice.
‘Of course. You poor darling. Come on, we’ll have a coffee and some croissants, and you can tell me all about it.
’ He shook the bag he was holding. ‘Bessie’s best. That woman’s bannocks are the finest I’ve ever had, and I live with one of the most talented chefs in Scotland.
’ He patted his bear-like stomach. ‘As you can see.’
‘That’s just padding. You’re comfy.’ Sorrel smiled wryly.
‘Oh, I know. I made my peace with it years ago. I’m the beast. He’s the beauty.’ Dom chuckled. He put an arm around Sorrel’s shoulder and led her up the steps onto the yacht.
In the daylight, the SS Margaret, as Sorrel was still calling the boat in her mind, was a stately craft, larger than she remembered, and still a gleaming white among the other boats in the harbour, many of which were fishing boats.
There were some other leisure boats there too, but Margaret was the biggest. On closer inspection, Sorrel could see that her hull was in need of a power wash, but she was doing pretty well for her age.
‘Come on in.’ Dom led her onto the deck, which held a couple of recliners and a table and chairs, all currently covered over with tarpaulin. He opened the door to the main cabin where they’d had dinner a couple of nights ago and ushered her in.
Now, the dining table and chairs had been put away, and, in the daylight, Sorrel could see that Margaret’s main cabin did look a little down at heel. When she’d come for dinner before, the lighting – and the cocktails – had distracted her from looking too carefully at the décor.
Now, though, she could see that the upholstery fabric was as vivid and bright as she remembered, but there were lots of signs of wear: patches where the fabric was thin or had even torn a little at the corners.
The curtains were faded in the pleats, and the carpet needed replacing.
The dark wood cabinets were serviceable, but the whole look was dated – gloriously so – but still dated.
‘Come on. Sit. Tell me what’s up,’ Dom instructed, putting the coffee cups and the bakery bag down on a coffee table and joining her on one of the long sofa-like upholstered chairs on one side of the room.
‘I’m here to give you some renovation pointers, not to bore you with my problems, Dom,’ Sorrel argued, but Dom frowned at her.
‘Sorrel Balhennie. Don’t make me tell you again,’ he said, tapping her knee with his fingertips. ‘We can chat all things décor in a minute. I brought some inspiration.’ He took a couple of interiors magazines out of his bag and put them on the coffee table.
‘Oh… where do I start, quite honestly?’ Sorrel took one of the coffees and sipped it. ‘Thanks for this, by the way.’
‘Welcome, dearest.’ Dom opened the paper bag from the bakery and took out four thick slices of fruited bannock – a kind of bread made in Scotland.
Savoury bannocks were more like oaty scones, but the sweet kind was like a fruit bread.
Bessie’s fruited bannock was glazed with butter and thick with sultanas and raisins.
A rich, sweet, bready smell filled the air between them as soon as Dom opened the bag.
‘Gah. Just look at these beauties.’ He sighed.
‘Seems almost a shame to eat them. But eat them I will.’
‘Well. I suppose first I have to tell you why I left Skye in the first place,’ Sorrel began.
Slowly, she told Dom the whole story, ending up with what Aunt Joan had told her just earlier.
‘It’s a shock, I guess. All this time, that part of my life was closed off to me.
And now, suddenly, it’s open. I don’t know what to do with it. ’
‘Gracious, darling. I am not in the slightest bit surprised that you’re spiralling. I would be too. Here. Sugar. No arguments.’ He handed her a slice of bannock.
‘Thanks.’ Sorrel bit into it: Bessie hadn’t lost her touch. The bannock was as buttery and soft as she remembered. ‘Wow. That is good.’
‘I always say, there’s nothing that can’t be solved by a good meal, a good sleep, and a good chat,’ Dom reflected.
‘I mean. Apart from large-scale social inequality, civil war, that kind of thing. Though, you do think, if people could just be sensible and actually talk to each other calmly over a cup of tea, there wouldn’t be as much of that either. ’
‘I expect you’re right.’ Sorrel sighed. ‘In this case, I don’t know whether a chat would help. Half of me wants to go over there. Half of me, not so much.’
‘I can understand that.’ Dom picked up a piece of the fruit bread, tearing it in half. ‘Did I ever tell you about what happened with Farid’s family when we moved up here?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ Sorrel took another sip of her coffee, which was strong and chocolatey.
‘Hm. Well, my family have always been very supportive about me being gay. I do joke about my nieces and their spray tans, but it’s Essex after all.
My eldest brother and his family come up to stay every year, and I keep up with Mum and Dad on the phone.
My sister does a great job looking after them, and we do pop down when we can; it’s just a long way.
They’ve all always loved Farid. I mean, who wouldn’t? ’
‘Absolutely. Farid is so lovely.’
‘I know. I’m so lucky.’ Dom smiled affectionately.
‘Well, unfortunately, Farid’s family were not so supportive when he came out.
They were pretty unhappy about it, actually.
I can’t say that it was a religious thing, per se.
Perhaps it was more cultural; his dad’s very traditional.
But his dad grew up in Afghanistan, and they moved here, I suppose in the Eighties.
I don’t even think Afghanistan was very rigid at that time, but they had a lot of regime changes, and anyway, his dad didn’t approve of having a gay son.
’ Dom sighed. ‘I don’t think he understood that Farid grew up in the UK; he went to school in London, it was all very mixed.
Being gay was okay by the time Farid was a teenager in the 2000s – I mean, don’t get me wrong, we still didn’t always feel comfortable kissing on the bus or holding hands in some places.
Sad to say, it’s still like that, now and again. ’ He looked sad.
‘But when Farid and I started seeing each other, and it got serious, there were ructions. His family threatened to disown him. He moved in with me in Essex, and then about a year after that, we decided to make a clean break and move up here. They haven’t spoken to him since.’
‘Oh, no! I’m so sorry! That’s awful!’ Sorrel was shocked. ‘I can’t believe that in this day and age that would still happen!’
‘I know, poppet. Seems unbelievable, doesn’t it?
Yet, that’s the reality. I think that’s why friends have always meant so much to us – partly because we’re both a long way from home, and partly, for Farid, well – he needs a support system.
We make it work, of course. But I always tried my hardest to make sure that we fitted in when we got here, and that people loved Farid.
Because he’s so bloody marvellous. I was damned if I was going to let him ever feel lonely. ’
‘You do a good job of it. I had no idea.’ Sorrel hugged her friend. ‘Dom, your heart is big enough for ten people, you know.’
‘Oh, I’m just me, darling. But I suppose the point of me telling you that is to say, don’t take family for granted.
I know you have a lovely big family, and I’m sure they’ll all come round, even if chats are needed with some of them.
This was big news. Difficult news.’ He stroked his beard for a moment.
‘I suppose I’m just always of the opinion that bridges should be built, rather than burned.
So, I think you should go and find your real father, if that’s something you want to do.
When you feel ready, of course,’ he added.
‘You can never have too much family. Well. You can never have too much family that love you and want the best for you. Maybe this guy wants the best for you, too.’
‘Maybe. I’ll think about it.’ Sorrel nodded. ‘It’s just a lot to process.’
‘I’m sure! You need to do these things in your own time.
’ Dom patted her on the arm. ‘I tell you, life isn’t easy, is it?
I put on a smile every day in the café, but there are days I definitely don’t want to.
Some days, I want to just point Margaret at the horizon and not come back.
And I live a near-perfect life on a Scottish island, running a bloody award-winning café with the love of my life, if you please.
’ Dom snorted. ‘On days like those, I have to take myself in hand and remember the horrors that other people have to endure.’
‘You’re right. I should put it in perspective.’ Sorrel took in a deep breath and let it out again. Just the action of talking to Dom was helping her feel a little more grounded; it was good not to have everything stewing in her own mind.
‘No – not at all. Your problem is a genuinely difficult one, darling. But I suppose, also be thankful for what you do have, if you can.’ He shrugged.
‘There. That’s all the Pollyanna advice for the day.
Done. Zipped. Apart from to say, Farid and I are always here, if you need an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or anything else. ’
‘Thank you. That’s really nice of you.’ Sorrel leaned back on the sofa. ‘In the meantime – have I told you about the jewelled dagger Tam and I found at the Inn?’
‘Oh, my days. No? Sorrel Balhennie, you are full of secrets.’ Dom gulped down a mouthful of bannock in surprise. ‘Tell me everything. Not least where things are with Tam Blackwood. You two should be together, you know. You looked so lovely together at dinner the other night.’
‘Oh, stop it. I know that was a set-up.’ Sorrel rolled her eyes. ‘We’re just friends.’
‘You don’t need to be. He’s single now.’ Dom crossed himself. ‘Dear Beth, rest in peace. She was a lovely girl. You would have really liked her.’
Sorrel nodded. ‘He said that they were good friends with you two.’
‘Oh, yes. We made up a four quite often. They were lovely together. She absolutely adored him. And he was so good to her. Especially at the end.’ Tears welled up in Dom’s eyes.
‘Oh, don’t mind me. It was just so sad, that’s all.
Cut down in the prime of life. You never think you’ll see it happen.
Another reason to live every day to the fullest.’ He looked at her meaningfully.
‘Dom. Tam and I are not seeing each other.’
‘But you could.’
‘Yes… we could, technically. But it’s complicated.’ Sorrel sighed.
‘Complicated, shpomplicated. He still loves you. I saw it in his eyes.’
‘I don’t think he does, Dom.’ Sorrel felt the need to be sensible; to minimise the fantasy that Dom was creating, even though there was a part of her that wanted to buy into it.
She tried not to think about how she felt when Tam was nearby, how it felt when they touched, how he felt like home to her.
She’d ruined all of that.
‘It’s in the past,’ she added. ‘I’m not about to mess him around another time. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life, whether I’m going to stay here for any amount of time. I can’t start something with him and then leave again.’
‘So, you want to start something?’ Dom wasn’t letting it go, clearly.
‘No! Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I have feelings for him. Of course I do. But… I just can’t, right now. There’s too much going on,’ she protested.
‘Okay. I can understand that. But, darling. If you could have seen how he looked when you walked in at dinner the other night. Farid and I both saw it. The look of love.’
‘Are you serious?’ She could feel herself blushing. Damn these ridiculous cheeks, she thought. ‘Dom. You’re just being dramatic.’
‘I am not. I saw what I saw,’ Dom replied, primly.
‘Okay, well, I reserve the right to think you’re being overly romantic about it.
’ Sorrel chuckled. Dom was dramatic; you often had to take what he said with a pinch of salt.
Had there been chemistry between her and Tam at the dinner?
Yes, there had. But the physical connection had always been there between them.
She wasn’t overly surprised that hadn’t disappeared.
Love and a relationship were something else again.
That was much more trouble, and much more complicated. Sorrel didn’t want to go there. Not now.
‘Okay, okay. Tell me about this jewelled dagger, then, missus. And then, boat décor.’ He tapped the magazines in front of him. ‘I’m thinking, lots of white; trailing plants; minimalist cosy. Maybe some rattan.’
‘Okay. Sounds good,’ Sorrel said, looking around her. ‘I mean, Margaret is a retro palace, but…’
‘Oh, I know. She needs a total facelift. I am fully on board, as it were.’ Dom chuckled.