Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
They were on their way back from the home store when the heavens opened.
Sorrel hadn’t been to Fort William since she was a kid; it was the biggest town in the Highlands beside Inverness, and always busy with tourists because of nearby Glencoe and Ben Nevis, which was popular with hikers; there was a mountain biking track, and the Glenfinnan Viaduct, which people always wanted to see because it had been in so many films.
In fact, Sorrel had forgotten just how beautiful Fort William was. It sat on the eastern shore of Loch Linnhe, with the towering purple-black mountain of Ben Nevis behind.
Sorrel remembered being taken there as a child on a very cold day and sharing chips with her sisters, cuddled up together on a boat trip over the deep, cold loch.
Angus had taken them all out for the day; her mother hadn’t been there.
Sorrel remembered the cold most of all. She’d buttoned up her coat and put on her gloves and even put her hood up, which she hated doing because it pulled on her hair, but even that didn’t stop her feeling iced to the bone.
She didn’t know why Angus had taken them all, just for the day. Or why Catriona hadn’t come.
Maybe they’d had an argument. Maybe Catriona had had to run an errand. Or, as she increasingly came to suspect nowadays, maybe it was because Catriona had one of her dark days, and she couldn’t cope with having six children at home.
They’d driven down to Fort William to get what Tam needed, and to order the flooring for the Inn.
Sorrel had been in her element: she had a whole career in house renovation, after all, and she found that hers and Tam’s expertise meshed beautifully.
They both had great taste, but Tam was better at finding a bargain.
Sorrel had been used to bringing in projects on budget, but her budgets had been pretty high for her last few renovations, and Tam had to remind her that it was her own money they were spending.
They’d agreed on a good natural wood floor, treated for long life and high traffic, in a light pine effect that wouldn’t darken the rooms at the Inn but would make the most of the natural light, while still looking rustic.
They’d also looked at paints and picked up some samples; Sorrel liked a dusky pink for the downstairs, and she’d selected a few wallpaper samples too in the event that Angus and Catriona could be persuaded to go for something more luxe and modern than the traditional Scottish décor of the Inn.
It had been fun, being at the store with Tam.
It was like playing house. When they’d walked past the model kitchens, they’d talked about which ones they liked.
Her taste was more modern and minimalist; Tam liked the country-style kitchens with the cream-coloured wooden units and range stoves.
However, he could admit that the stunning, cherry-red, high-shine kitchen with the shiny chrome accessories was gorgeous, even though they both agreed that there was no way on earth that Catriona would ever want anything so modern in the Inn.
‘I can just imagine her face, can’t you?
’ Tam had chuckled, touching Sorrel’s arm gently as they’d stood in the showroom.
Again, it was a gesture of familiarity; Tam knew Catriona, and he knew Sorrel.
That sense of being known and understood was balm to Sorrel’s stressed, emotionally overwhelmed soul.
‘Ha. She’d take one look at it and demand we rip it out. And put in the one you like.’ Sorrel grinned.
‘Again – as I said, I’m hardly ever wrong.’ Tam had grinned back. ‘Admit it.’
‘I know. But we can’t let it go to your head.’
‘Ah, the Balhennie sisters. What was it that your uncle called you?’
‘Oh, you mean the Princesses of Balhennie? It’s dumb.’ Sorrel rolled her eyes. ‘I wish he wouldn’t call us that.’
‘Yes. The Princesses of Balhennie. More like queens.’ He’d raised an eyebrow. ‘A man has to be secure to be around you powerful women.’
‘Oh, really? And you’re secure?’ she’d asked, archly.
‘You tell me, Queen Sorrel.’
It was nice to be able to forget about everything for a while.
So much had happened since Sorrel had come back to Skye, and everything was so fraught with her sisters that it was a relief to talk about kitchens and paints for a while.
And she had to admit that she loved it when they sank back into their familiar banter.
‘You could always spot the best thing in the shop.’ He’d smiled affectionately at her, and then looked at the price tag and winced. ‘And the most expensive.’
She and Tam hadn’t got to play house in real life.
Sometimes, when she’d been working on a house renovation, she’d let herself imagine that it was her and Tam’s house that she was making.
That she was making a beautiful home for them both, a home that they could both come back to at the end of a long day, make dinner, talk about their victories and failures, snuggle up and be together. Or, maybe, even house a family.
The fact that she had occasionally allowed herself to fantasise about making a home with Tam Blackwood, and yet her home with Simon was basic and functional, was telling.
She hadn’t made a huge effort with their house.
It was nice, but she always said that she hadn’t had the time to focus on it.
She and Simon had made that joke: interior designers have the worst houses.
Was that true, though? She didn’t think that it was. It was a nice house, sure. But she’d never really felt the impetus to make it a beautiful and cosy home.
Thinking about homes made her remember the mysterious newspaper and ribbon she and Tam had found at the Inn, and Emma Gordon.
‘Remember that old newspaper we found?’ she said, as Tam drove along the curving roads that led along Loch Cluanie and then the Kyle of Lochalsh, before the main bridge back onto the island.
‘I was thinking. That woman, Emma Gordon. Why would someone hide that newspaper story about her in the basement of the Inn, with that knotted ribbon? Do you still think it was witchcraft?’
‘The ribbon? It might have been.’ Tam shrugged.
‘My grannie used to do things like that. Old charms to protect the house, bring in good luck, charms for weddings, babies, that kind of thing. I think string with knots in is made so that every knot tied secures the intention of the spell. So, it sort of intensifies the magic, or something. What intention the person who tied the knots in that ribbon had, I couldn’t say.
Protection, maybe. Maybe that Emma Gordon was trying to protect herself. Or someone wanted to protect the Inn.’
‘Oh, really? I didn’t know your grannie was a witch.’ Sorrel turned to him as he drove along, secretly admiring the way that his muscular biceps and forearms flexed as he drove.
‘Ha. I don’t think she was, just, you know – she knew that kind of stuff. Old ways.’
‘Hm. You know, I had a look in the records room at the castle. I found this enigmatic bit of information about Emma. That she’d gone to the castle for lunch and dinner, with an MB. I presume that was a Balhennie, considering it was at the castle.’
‘Oh? Well, she was trying to swindle them out of money, right? So I guess that might have included lunches and whatnot, especially since she was posing as a wealthy woman. That’s not so out of the ordinary.’
Tam’s phone rang; he swore and peered out of the windscreen at the deep black cloud that covered the sky. Hailstones as big as golf balls began pummelling the car.
‘I have to take this. Hang on… I’m going to pull over. This is terrible, I can hardly see.’ Tam slowed the truck down and stopped on the grass verge at the side of the road. He put on the parking brake and answered the call. ‘Hi, Thomas.’
Sorrel recognised the name; it was one of Tam’s crew at the Inn. Tam listened intently, and then swore again. She watched the hail as it got harder, wondering how they were going to drive in it. She knew that they were a good hour or more from home, and that was in fine weather.
‘Right. Okay. Thanks for letting me know.’ He asked a few more questions and then ended the call.
‘What is it?’ Sorrel asked, looking at his expression with some trepidation.
‘The electrics. As predicted, they were shot, and Tom just put out an electrical fire that started with the rain. Somehow it got into the wiring and there was a massive explosion. It’s going to put us back weeks while it gets fixed. He says there’s fire damage now.’
‘Oh no!’ Sorrel exclaimed. The rain lashed against the car as if it was the sudden harbinger of disaster. ‘Is everyone safe?’
‘Yeah. It was in one of the bedrooms; no one was up there. But Tom says the whole upstairs is in a state now, and there’s smoke everywhere.’
‘Oh, god.’ Sorrel closed her eyes. ‘Just when we think we’re getting somewhere with the Inn, this happens.’ They’d had such a lovely day, but now it felt as if something out there was refusing to let nice things happen.
‘Damn.’ Sorrel jumped as a heavy hailstone hit the bonnet of the truck with a loud thump. ‘Do you think it’s going to smash the windscreen?’
‘Jeez. I hope not.’ Tam frowned. ‘It’ll blow over soon. Probably.’ He got out his phone and studied it for a minute. His expression darkened.
‘What is it now?’ Sorrel wrapped her arms around herself. Thunder cracked overhead. It was so loud that it sounded as if one of the nearby rocky hills was being split apart.
‘The weather says this has rolled in for a good while. It’s not passing anytime soon.’ Tam looked out of the truck window as lightning lit up the dark sky for a moment, and the heavily wooded land around them.
‘Oh no!’ Sorrel cast her eyes outside at the storm. The wind had come up to a gale and was buffeting the truck.
‘We should get off the road,’ Tam said. ‘According to the map, there’s a B Sorrel supposed that everyone else had done what they had and pulled over to let the storm pass.
‘Yeah. I hope Mum and Dad are okay. I can imagine that they know about the explosion – they must have seen the smoke.’ Sorrel felt sorry for her parents; all of this must be so hard on them. They’d lived at the Inn and run it for so many years. It was like a part of them.
‘Yeah. Tom said they’re okay. A bit worried, but they were worried anyway. They’ll be fine.’ Tam put his hand on hers briefly as he drove, and then returned it to the steering wheel.
When they pulled into the drive for the Cluanie Bed and Breakfast, the storm was still raging. Thunder rolled across the mountains surrounding them, and lightning flashed like a blade, lighting up the dripping pines that surrounded the B I wasnae expecting anyone in this weather!
’ Distractedly, she wiped a dash of paint from the back of her hand to her forehead.
Sorrel thought of mentioning it, but thought it would be rude.
‘No, not at all.’ Tam gave the woman his easy smile, and Sorrel was amused to see her melt under it.
Sometimes Sorrel forgot how disarming Tam could be with his gentle tone, the sonorous purr of his voice and his gentlemanly politeness.
‘We just came to get some shelter from the storm; the weather app says it’s going to be with us for a few hours, and we didn’t want to drive all the way back to Skye in it.
We are, of course, happy to buy some food and drink, or contribute somehow.
’ He gave the woman a final winning smile.
‘Oh. Well, you’re very welcome to wait out the storm, but it’s a mess in there.
’ The woman indicated her paint-spattered clothes.
‘I can let you have one of the rooms, though? We have tea and coffee and biscuits in each room. They’re warm and cosy.
’ She looked expectantly at us both. ‘I have just the one left, but that should be fine for you?’
‘Oh… we’re not…’ Sorrel began.
‘We’ll take it,’ Tam said at the same time. They looked at each other, fazed by the moment of awkwardness. ‘Oh. I mean… if that’s okay with you.’
‘Umm… okay.’ The B&B owner gave them both a shrewd look, but went to the desk and reached under it, handing Sorrel a room key.
‘Here y’are. Room eight. It has a bathroom,’ she said, giving them a warm smile. ‘Claw-footed bathtub, in fact! Nice comfy mattress. Now, if you want me, I’ll be just through here. We can do you a dinner, if you like. Just pop down and ask.’
‘Oh, well, we don’t…’ Sorrel began, but the owner had already left them in the hall. Sorrel looked at the key in her hand and then at Tam.
‘Right,’ she said, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks.
‘Shall we?’ Tam held out a hand towards the stairs.