Chapter 24 #2
She was fascinated as she watched a length of cloth slowly grow before her very eyes, but although she enjoyed finding out about woollen cloth production, she was far more interested in the finished products in the onsite shop.
Cushions, blankets and even curtains were on display, as well as scarves, shawls, bags and hats.
The colours were fabulous, reflecting those of the natural world outside, and there were also the most wonderful tartans.
At one point, Giselle leant close to her twin and whispered, ‘This is lovely! I can imagine most of these being sold in Coorie Castle’s gift shop.
I’ll mention it to Mhairi…’ Then she trailed off.
She’d been about to say, ‘the next time I have tea with her’, but there wouldn’t be a next time.
And neither would there be any point in mentioning it to Cal, since the future of the castle and its craft centre was so uncertain.
Giselle’s mood plummeted, and once again she had a sick feeling in her tummy.
Izzy was busy choosing a throw, and didn’t notice, so Giselle had time to gather herself. She didn’t want to spoil her sister’s day with her glum mood. There would be time enough to be miserable after Izzy left.
Purchase made, Izzy linked arms with Giselle as they wandered back to the car. ‘Where shall we go for lunch? My treat.’
‘No, Izzy—’
‘Don’t argue.’ Izzy pouted, so Giselle didn’t, despite not feeling particularly hungry.
She could do with a sit down and a cup of tea, though.
The hangover she thought she’d vanquished was back in the form of a sudden depletion in energy.
Hoping food might help perk her up, she suggested the pub she’d been to with Rocco.
It was halfway between the mill and home, and she knew the food was good and plentiful.
And it was better than attempting to cook at the bothy.
She wasn’t the most domesticated person in the kitchen, and it wasn’t fair on Izzy to have to cook for them.
She was here to keep Giselle company, not to slave over a hot stove, even if she was good at cooking and professed to really enjoy it.
After lunch, during which Giselle suddenly found she was absolutely ravenous and hoovered up every last crumb of her Jamaican jerk chicken with salad and chips, Izzy drove them back to Duncoorie.
‘It’s a lovely afternoon,’ Izzy observed, as they approached the outskirts of the village. ‘How about we walk off that rather fabulous lunch and go for a stroll by the loch?’
‘I’m game, if you are. You can help me look for sea glass.’
‘Only if you let me make a picture.’
Giselle chuckled. ‘You don’t need my permission.’
‘I’ll need some paper and glue,’ Izzy pointed out. ‘And I did say I wanted to see what you’re working on.’
‘You said you wanted to go to the gift shop. Not the same thing.’
‘It had some lovely stuff last time I was here,’ Izzy argued. ‘Anyway, I need to say hi to Jinny.’
‘You’d better. If you don’t and she finds out you’ve been to Duncoorie, I’ll be toast,’ Giselle said. Izzy had met Jinny not long after Giselle had taken up residence in the studio, and the two women had hit it off immediately. Jinny was another live wire, like Izzy.
When Giselle realised how busy the craft centre was today, she felt a little guilty for not being in the studio, but the feeling soon disappeared when she reached the beach and saw the pleasure on Izzy’s face.
‘I forget how beautiful it is,’ her sister said as she gazed around. ‘No wonder you don’t want to leave. My offer still stands, though: come live with me in Milan.’
‘And be a third wheel? No thanks! Anyway, what would Edoardo say? I doubt he’ll be happy sharing you with your sister.’
‘He’ll be fine. Family is a big thing in Italy, and Edoardo’s got a very big family indeed!’
‘All the more reason for me not to add to it. Besides, I wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing I was cramping your newly engaged style.’
‘I’m sure we could work something out. Seriously, if you need to get away for a while, let me know.’
‘I will,’ Giselle promised, having no intention of doing any such thing. If she had to give up her bothy for whatever reason, she’d move back in with Mum and Dad. They didn’t have any style for her to cramp.
While Giselle looked half-heartedly for sea glass (she wasn’t really in the mood), Izzy poked around in the rock pools exposed by the retreating tide.
‘I’ve found a crab!’ she announced excitedly, beckoning Giselle over to take a look. Then she laughed at herself. ‘I bet you see these all the time, don’t you?’
‘Now and again,’ Giselle admitted with an indulgent smile.
‘Remember how we used to go rock pooling when we were kids? We could do with a net and a bucket right now,’ Izzy declared, crouching down to peer into the pool.
Giselle stared at her sceptically. ‘Can’t you just be content with looking?’
‘I suppose I’ll have to, but half the fun is trying to net the wee fishes and shrimp things, then seeing how many you get in your bucket. I used to hate it if you got more than me.’
‘You always were competitive.’
‘So were you! Remember when you fell in when you saw a starfish? You had to have it because then you’d be the one who had the best wee critter.’ Izzy was laughing.
‘I’d forgotten that. I bawled my eyes out because I got my favourite shorts wet.’
‘You loved those shorts. And how about me with that purple dress with the embroidered heart on the front? It was all I’d wear at one point.’
Giselle perched her bottom gingerly on a rock. ‘Fast forward twenty years and I’m still mucking about on the seashore, and you’re still obsessing about clothes.’
They smiled at each other; they were both doing what they loved. Except…
‘Will you ever give it up, do you think?’ Giselle asked. ‘Now that you have Edoardo?’
‘I don’t want to be away from him. Ever.’
‘Yet you’re here,’ Giselle pointed out.
‘I had to come see you. You’re hurting. I could feel it here.’ Izzy put a hand on her chest above her heart. ‘I know I can’t take that away, but I wanted to give you a hug.’
Giselle’s eyes filled with tears. She’d missed her sister so much.
‘I’ll be OK,’ she said, not wanting Izzy to worry about her.
‘I know you will. You’re the brave one.’
‘You’re brave, too.’
‘Och, no I’m not,’ Izzy said, sounding the most Scottish Giselle had heard her sound since she’d arrived. ‘I’m the reckless one. I dive in without thinking. You think about things, weigh up the risks, then dive in despite the danger. That’s bravery.’
Giselle didn’t feel brave right now. She felt stupid. She’d fallen in love with a ghost from her past, when there was no hope of him being in her present.
Izzy, sensing that Giselle’s spirits had taken another nose-dive, said, ‘Can we go to the gift shop now, and stop at the cafe on the way? I fancy a coffee and a slice of cake.’
‘You can’t be hungry already!’
‘I’m bloody ravenous,’ Izzy declared. ‘It’s all this fresh air; I’m not used to it.’
Giselle couldn’t eat another bite, but she’d have a cup of tea to keep her sister company.
They made their way back to the crescent of beach, Giselle avoiding looking at the jetty where Rocco had kissed her in the early morning mist, and onto the lane leading from Cal’s cottage and the boathouse to the castle.
Rounding the corner, she waved to Fergus, the glassblower, who was in his oven of a studio (with three furnaces, it was always roasting inside), and lingered for a moment outside Tara’s because Izzy wanted to examine the exquisite doll’s houses in the window.
‘If I ever have kids, I’ll buy them a doll’s house,’ she said, adding with a laugh, ‘I’m not sure I’d let them play with it, though. They’re far too lovely for sticky fingers.’
‘And expensive,’ Giselle told her. ‘You wouldn’t want it to get broken.’
Whatever Izzy was about to say in response was lost when Giselle heard her name being called.
‘Where have you been?’ Avril demanded. ‘Haven’t you seen my message? Hi, Izzy,’ she added absently, her attention on Giselle.
‘What message?’ Giselle asked, realising she’d left her bag containing her phone in Izzy’s car.
Avril bit her lip, her eyes wide. She looked nervous. Then she said, ‘You’ll never guess who’s here.’