5
5
Juniper
Google search: Plumbing for dummies
“What a fucking mess,” Hank grunted again, crumbs from his freshly baked oatcake clinging to his bushy mutton chops.
“Fiona shouldn’t have left you in charge.”
“So you’ve said.” Ignoring the burn of humiliation in my cheeks, I continued my fruitless Google search.
Over the past twenty-four hours I’d contacted just about every plumber north of the English border.
False . I’d made a very desperate call to a company in Newcastle.
The man’s chuckling, “The Isle of where? Ah don’t think so, pet,” had felt particularly brutal.
The skip hidden around the back was now filled with ruined bedding, rugs, a spoiled mattress as well as the bathroom suites I’d foolishly let Murray tear out.
This morning I’d been in the middle of comping a night’s stay and free breakfast for a disgruntled guest, as I could no longer offer the ocean-view room she’d initially booked, when Mal had appeared.
Cheeks pink from the wind.
He’d only winced at my grizzly interaction and hefted what looked like a dehumidifier over his head.
When I finally located him in the first-floor suite, he was on his knees, unspooling the cord, explaining it would remove the moisture from the air.
“You should also crank up the heating. It will reduce the risk of mould forming now the evenings are growing colder.”
That had me thoroughly panicked.
The old tartan wallpaper already resembled a Jackson Pollock painting.
Not quite the vibe I’d been aiming for in a honeymoon suite.
“How do you know all this?”
He’d hesitated, eyes flicking between me and the cord in his big hands.
“Will you be mad if I say Callum?”
“No … Maybe. What’s that guy’s deal, anyway?”
“Callum’s?” He’d pushed the plug in the socket and fiddled with the dials on the boxy machine until a low whir filled the room.
“Aye.”
“He likes to help. And take it from someone who spent years trying to force him into doing the opposite, it’s easier to just go with it.”
I hadn’t agreed or disagreed.
Shrugging off the memory, I spun to face Hank.
“Why am I like this?”
If he was surprised by my question, he didn’t show it.
The grooves around his mouth cut into deep lines as he gave it real thought.
“That’s a question with many possible answers. That morbid music you kids like so much definitely dinnae brighten yer mood.”
“I didn’t mean that.” I flicked a stray crumb his way.
“My music taste is exquisite.”
He said nothing.
His usual signal for me to continue.
He was like a priest in a confessional that way, though his advice was likely far more colourful.
“Callum Macabe offered to help.”
“And you turned him down?”
I nodded.
“Good,” he grunted, shoving the remainder of his food past his lips.
“The lad’s always grinning. Makes me antsy.”
I laughed, happy to find another person on this island who didn’t sip from the Community Ken cup.
“You don’t think I should say yes? Set aside my pride and accept help when it’s offered?”
My words trailed off when Ada swept through the door, already talking as she slipped out of her damp coat.
“Sorry I’m late, damn sheep in the road again. Then a motorhome full of tourists got out to take pictures.” She shook her head, silver-streaked box braids slipping over her shoulder.
“As though the folk that live here don’t have places to be.” Turning for the desk, she held Hank’s stare a fraction longer than strictly polite.
Born in London, she and her late husband relocated to Skye almost thirty years ago.
She’d lost him seven years back and worked part time at Ivy House ever since.
The quickness with which Hank straightened was almost comical.
As was the way he brushed crumbs from his chest. “You missed a bit,” I whispered, pointing to one lone crumb on his lip while sliding from the seat to let Ada take over the evening shift.
“Hey Ada. Question: do you think I should hire Callum Macabe to help with the bathrooms?”
“Callum?” Like every female in this village, her face brightened at the mention of him.
“He’s such a lovely boy.”
Looking back at Hank, I lifted my brows in the universal see gesture.
Grunting, he waved a hand, already retreating to the safety of his kitchen.
To avoid me or the attractive widow?
That was still up for debate.
“Do what you want, lass, yer always do. Just leave me out of it … And be careful around that lad, I dinnae trust him.” He offered the final comment as though it were an afterthought.
Using Ada’s arrival to escape, I plugged in my headphones and retreated to the quiet seclusion of the laundry room and the stack of clean bed linen waiting to be pressed and ironed.
My mind wandered through the menial task, looping over Hank’s words.
Just leave me out of it.
There lay the problem.
I didn’t want to leave him out of it.
I wanted someone to take the decision out of my hands, so I didn’t suffer any blowback.
I wanted all of the reward with none of the risk.
Later that evening, I curled into the sofa cushions in my cosy living room.
Shakespeare perched on the arm of my velvet-lined wingback, watching as I balanced my phone atop a pile of books with one hand, careful not to spill the cereal in the other.
“Glare all you want, arsehole,” I said, waiting for the camera to connect.
“Is this how we’re greeting each other now?” Backlit by the glow of flames in the tiny cottage she occupied with Mal, April looked delighted at the prospect.
Heather connected next, her face blurring as the camera drifted in and out of focus.
“Sorry.” I flipped the screen so they could get a good look.
“That was aimed at the demon cat.”
“Still not going well?”
I held up my heavily decorated arm in explanation, welts curling around my wrist like a bracelet.
“Why did this have to be the cat I agreed to adopt rather than foster?”
“Because you took one look at that beautiful face and couldn’t say no?” Heather joked.
I hummed noncommittally but Heather was right, I’d always had a weakness for pretty things.
“I know all about that.” April reclined in her chair with a chuckle, a script balanced across her knees.
In just a few short months she would leave to shoot her latest movie, and if I was honest, I dreaded her departure.
The magnitude of April’s level of fame often crept up at the strangest times.
Having my best friend back in Kinleith felt so normal, it wasn’t until tourists pointed her out in shops or on the beach that I even remembered her fame.
Heather and I had a lot of fun watching Mal attempt to fend off some of her more dedicated fans.
“How’s things at Ivy House?” Heather was the first to broach the subject.
“Oh, you know, I’ve comped so many rooms I’m pretty much paying the guests to stay at this point and I had to bribe Hank with a raise to stop him calling Fiona.”
“It’s just a bump in the road.”
“Especially if you agree to let Callum help,” Heather urged, voice edging towards exasperated.
“I know you two don’t exactly see eye to eye, but for this, can’t you try getting along?”
“I have some free time tomorrow if you need a hand? I’m very adept at customer service,” April cut in, effortlessly changing the subject.
Though she’d never said anything, I knew she had her suspicions about Callum and me.
“No need, Ada is happy to pick up extra hours.”
“Has Old Murray returned your money yet?”
“Not likely,” Heather replied before I could.
“You could have a pitchfork to his throat and the tight bastard wouldn’t budge.”
I snorted so hard oat milk almost poured from my nose, then said, “Which is exactly what I intend to do … as soon as I can escape for more than five minutes.” Heather winced, gathering her short strands into a stubby ponytail.
“You look tired,” I noted.
Her skin seeming even paler under her harsh kitchen lights.
“I’m fine.” She yawned, her eyes meeting mine and bouncing away.
I hated that bounce.
The reminder that while we laughed and teased one another like friends who’d given each other Spice-Girls-inspired haircuts at seven years old, the severing of mine and Alistair’s engagement had cost me far more just my romantic relationship.
“Just a long day and the girls won’t stop arguing. I’m considering giving them separate bedrooms so they have a bit of space from one another.”
“Could be a phase,” April said.
“Could be.” She rubbed at her temples.
“I know it’s normal for kids to fight. I only wish I had someone to back me up, you know? When they’re screaming at one another and I have to remind myself that I’m the adult here, when really, I just want to lock myself in the bathroom and cry. A one-hour phone call every other week from their dad doesn’t quite cut it as joint parenting.”
“Prick,” I spat, hating that her ex-husband’s departure had been the catalyst for our reconciliation.
I’d never expected Heather to choose me over Alistair.
But I’d hoped there would be a choice .
Life schooled you for romantic heartbreak.
Eat the chocolate, watch Legally Blonde , cry in the shower to Taylor Swift .
Rinse and repeat. But no one ever warned you that heartbreak over friendship cut twice as deep.
“ Prick ,” Heather and April agreed, and I forced a smile as the conversation drifted.
I sank back into the mountain of throw cushions, trading out my empty cereal bowl for a glass of red wine, doing all I could not to fall asleep as my friends discussed Heather’s new role as manager at the distillery, but my mind was like a sieve, unable to grasp onto a single thought as the long day caught up with me.
The conversation yanked me back when a door opened and closed on April’s end.
With a grin she angled her face up a split second before Mal’s head descended into view.
The image blurring out of focus as his lips caught hers, hands bracketing her cheeks to kiss her deeply.
Passionately. As though a sea had separated them, not a handful of stone walls.
And damn, I couldn’t look away from the fierce longing they shared.
Knowing she’d take a piece of his heart with her when she went away.
“Gross.” Heather gagged.
They snapped apart, Mal’s cheeks turning a burned pink while April laughed.
“Sorry guys.” His flush deepened when he registered the two of us.
“I didn’t notice the phone.” Because he didn’t notice much besides April these days.
“And I think that’s my signal to go,” Heather said.
“Not on my account.” Mal dipped over April’s shoulder to speak to his sister.
“I’m about to shower anyway.”
Heather shook her head, stifling another yawn in her palm.
“I need to get to bed, the girls have gymnastics club before school tomorrow.”
“Let me know if you need help with pick-up or drop-off,” he replied before dipping out of view.
I waited in silence as Heather said her goodbyes.
Returning her drooping smile with one I hoped was convincingly reassuring.
Then her screen went black and I cried, “I almost slept with Callum.” Like I’d just undergone hours in an interrogation chair.
I don’t know where the admission came from.
Stress? Yes, definitely stress.
And the fact he’d been getting in my face for days.
April blinked, lips moving, only her reply was drowned out by a distinctly male choke.
I froze, leaning closer to the screen as though I might peer into the room.
“Is that Mal?”
Two seconds passed.
Then the reply came from off-camera.
“Yep.”
“I thought you were going for a shower,” I said.
April’s eyes darted between us.
“I forgot a towel?” It was more of a question than a statement, as though I were his teacher and he was explaining how his dog ate his homework.
Yeah, I couldn’t do this.
“Will you just come into the shot please?”
Another lengthy pause.
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, pony up, because you’re unfortunately a part of this shitshow now.”
“I don’t think—”
“ Mal! ”
He stumbled into view like I’d yanked on an invisible rope tied around his waist. Hastily drawing a dark T-shirt over his wide chest, he dropped onto the sofa beside April.
Our gazes collided and slid away but I refused to be embarrassed.
Even if my cheeks were burning.
“Can we return to the matter at hand please?” April tucked her legs beneath her, practically vibrating with excitement.
“You almost slept with Callum today?”
“Absolutely not … this was years ago.”
“I knew it! I so knew there was something between you. Did it happen while you were with Alistair?” April’s tone held no judgement whereas Mal had the posture of an animal caught in a trap.
“Of course not! A year after it ended.”
“ Fuck .” Mal swiped a hand over his jaw and stood.
“I shouldn’t be here for this.”
“ Sit ,” April and I said in unison.
He complied instantly.
“It’s just girl talk.” April pressed a kiss to his shoulder then turned back to me.
“So you were together?”
“The key word is almost. ”
She waved a hand like the difference was inconsequential.
“How did it happen?”
“I was attending a conference in Glasgow, we bumped into each other at a bar.”
“Was it good? The lead up, I mean.” She rolled a finger and Mal wheezed, face dropping into his hands.
“What do you think?” I returned dryly, recalling the desperate tremble in Callum’s hands as he tugged me into his lap.
He’d fucking wanted me.
Until he hadn’t. “I might not like the man but even I can admit he has a body made to do bad things too.”
“Better than Alistair?”
I pursed my lips, considering.
“Different. It’s hard to fully compare. Sex with Alistair was always incredible, but this was … I don’t know, charged . In a way I’ve never experienced before.”
“Kids, that’s what we call a build-up of sexual tension.” She spread her hands at her sides as though she were holding court.
“That’s it—”
“No, stay,” I begged before Mal could leave.
“I need your opinion.”
He grimaced, eyes squeezing.
“Please don’t.”
“If it helps, I know all about your sex life.”
His eyes shot open, pinning April where she sat.
“What?” Her tone was entirely unashamed.
“I need someone to brag to and it can’t be Heather. That leg thing you did against the wall last week—”
“So you and Callum?” he cut in evenly, though his face had taken on the sheen of a red balloon.
I’d never seen a person so embarrassed.
Taking it easy on him, I rolled with the subject change.
“Almost and only once.”
“ Christ .” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw, in a way I was coming to learn was a nervous tic.
“This is the most bizarre conversation of my life.”
“You’ve never been tempted again?” April asked.
“No.” Every time I want to come.
“He’s always an arse to me.”
“That is classic teasing-the-girl-you-like-to-get-on-her-radar.”
“Oh, really?” I shot a pointed look at Mal.
“That’s not what you said six months ago.” Heather had said the exact same thing about Mal and April had shut it down.
Hard.
“And then I learned that Mal was in fact pining away like a sad grizzly bear night after night—”
“I wouldn’t say night after night, exactly. Just a little light pining … you know, a normal amount of masculine pining.” Said the man currently taking part in this excruciating discussion for no other reason than the woman at his side.
The pining levels weren’t up for debate.
“You never mentioned Callum was into June.”
“I thought it was obvious. Besides, it goes against girl code.”
“Enough. Callum isn’t into me .” I nearly gagged on the juvenile phrase.
“I wouldn’t care if he was. All I want to know is, Mal … knowing everything, do you think I can trust him to help me?”
His nod was immediate.
“ Shit. ” I slumped back against the cushions.
“Not the answer you were hoping for?” He offered me the same grin he’d given Heather.
It brightened his entire face.
“Nope. You’ve officially made my Macabe family shit list.”