Chapter 4
It should have only taken two minutes to walk from her new office to the café, but Bex’s journey was substantially longer.
Partly, it was due to trying to leash-train Rosie.
Most of the time, the dog had free rein to go where she wanted.
She had walked freely up from the castle, running around with her mum the way she most often did.
But Bex knew there would be times – like now, in the village, or when they went back down south to visit people – where having her walking sensibly on a lead would be necessary.
Unfortunately, Rosie didn’t care about necessity.
What she cared about was how she wanted to go as far and as fast in every direction she wanted.
As such, she did everything she could to fight the restraint: jolting, chewing the lead, twisting around Bex’s ankles.
With every step, the frustration grew, and Bex was tempted to give up altogether when her phone buzzed in her pocket.
‘How about we see if you can just stand still while I see who that is?’ she said, looking down at the dogs.
Ruby was also on a lead, behaving perfectly.
As Ruby sat down, without the need to be instructed, Bex was sure there was a smirk on her face.
Ignoring the fact that she was undoubtedly being judged by the old dog, Bex opened the message that had just come through from her dad.
Gotta look my best for walking you down the aisle.
The comment was accompanied by a picture of her father dressed in running gear, complete with headband and wireless earphones.
Since a previous trip to Scotland, where he had spent the day with Duncan’s father, Keith, Bex’s dad had been focused on getting his health on track.
Not that it felt like a bad thing. He had always been very casual about his health, occasionally taking up new sports, like tennis or squash, only to drop them a couple of months later.
She suspected this was the same, although she wasn’t going to say as much.
And on the plus side, it would definitely cost less than his fad interests in golf and skiing which had lasted less than a year.
Bex fired back:
Looks good.
Immediately, the three dots of an impending second message filled her screen.
Got a PB on a two-mile run yesterday.
She replied with a smiley face emoji, but he wasn’t done.
Going shopping for trainers later, and a new watch. Gotta be a fit father of the bride.
With a slight roll of her eyes, Bex slipped her phone back into her pocket; so much for thinking running would be a cheaper hobby.
It was only when she went to move on that it struck her how something was different, although it took a split second to realise what it was. Rather than fighting against the lead, Rosie was standing stock-still, looking up at Bex like she was a perfectly trained pooch.
‘Okay,’ Bex said, not wanting to give in to the spark of hope that lit inside her. ‘Let’s see if you can be this good in the café, shall we?’
In Rosie’s defence, it wasn’t entirely her fault that it was difficult to keep calm.
Just like so many dogs in the community, the puppies – and Rosie in particular – were well known in the village and as such always received a barrage of cuddles and tummy rubs wherever they went.
The café was no different, so while Ruby flopped down nonchalantly, Rosie went from table to table, wherever she was called, to receive oodles of affection.
As Bex picked up the menu – which was largely the same each week, but had seasonal specials that were always worth a try – her eyes wandered to the walls which were no longer plain pale blue. Lorna, she realised, had decorated. Sort of.
‘These photos,’ Bex said to Lorna as she came over to the table. ‘They’re lovely. Where are they from?’
‘You like them? Really?’ Lorna’s voice was hopeful. ‘I thought it was nice to liven the place up a bit.’
Bex had never thought that the café needed livening up particularly. After all, it did its job, serving good food at a reasonable price with reliable opening hours, but these photos – there was a real charm to a lot of the shots. Particularly the wildlife ones.
‘I went along to an amateur photography meet-up a couple of weeks ago,’ Lorna explained. ‘Saw some of these and thought they could look nice here.’
‘They do look good.’
Bex wasn’t surprised that Lorna had gone to an amateur photography meet-up.
She was one of those people who had countless hobbies, not to mention jobs.
It made her dad’s flittering between sports look entirely tame.
She was an obscenely hard worker, a trait she shared with her brother, but she also seemed to be struggling to find her thing.
Between shifts at the bar and stints nannying, she was always trying out new endeavours.
Maybe it was because Eilidh, her oldest friend, had always been so unwaveringly committed to her sewing that Lorna felt the need to constantly try new things in the hope of discovering something she loved just as greatly.
Or maybe she would forever be someone who sought out new experiences.
Bex didn’t know. But she loved that about her future sister-in-law, and the pictures looked great.
‘I like them. Really like them,’ Bex said.
‘And you’re not just saying that?’
‘Promise.’
‘I’m thinking of suggesting we sell them. You know, for tourists in the summer. Turn this into a café-cum-art-gallery space. What do you think? It’s not like the actual gallery will ever display them. Snobs.’
Bex had been to the gallery in the village a couple of times in the last few months and found them to be very warm and welcoming. But then, maybe that was due to who she was engaged to. Still, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Art curator. Of course, another new hobby-job.
‘I think that’s a great idea. They look brilliant. I can’t believe these are amateur. Some of them are incredible.’
Her eyes were drawn to one of a sunset, where the castle stood in the background. The way the sun reflected off it made the brickwork shimmer, almost as if it were gilded.
‘I know.’ Lorna let out a sigh. ‘It’s why I didn’t go again. No chance of me ever being that good. But… that’s not the reason I brought you here. I need you to sit down. I need you to try something. I want to know what you think.’
‘Food?’ Bex said hopefully. It had been a while since she and Duncan had left the castle for lunch, and as such, she was now feeling more than a bit peckish.
‘Yes. Good food, at least, I hope so,’ Lorna replied. ‘My savoury tart entry for the summer gala.’
‘The summer gala.’ Bex tried not to wince.
She hadn’t realised before this year exactly how big a deal the summer gala was in LochDarroch.
When she’d been with Duncan before, she’d been back and forth from London and had never been around on the day.
And while it was still nearly three weeks away, it was literally the only thing people talked about. Other than her impending nuptials.
‘Do you know how many categories you’re judging yet?’ Lorna asked.
‘A lot,’ Bex replied dryly. So many she’d lost count.
The first time someone had asked if she’d be interested in judging, she’d immediately said yes.
After all, a couple of cream cakes, a few apple pies; she didn’t think it would be that hard.
But now she had learned that there were over three hundred categories, from children’s paintings to flower arranging, sewing – everything from tea cosies to gowns – and even the best home-cured bacon.
And while she’d been assured there were a couple of other prominent local figures who had said yes, she had no idea how many that actually was.
Nor did she believe she deserved to be considered a prominent local figure.
But given the size of the building she now called home, she could hardly say no.
‘Okay, I’ve got two flavours I need you to try.’ Lorna dashed away to return again a moment later. ‘I need to know what you think of both. And you have to be honest. There’s a goat’s cheese, caramelised onion and fig, and the smoked bacon and chanterelle mushroom.’
‘Chanterelle mushrooms?’ Bex asked. She wasn’t even sure what those were. But they certainly weren’t something she’d seen on the café menu before. Clearly, Lorna was also adopting haute cuisine as one of her hobbies.
‘Okay.’ Lorna scooted into a seat next to Bex and pushed a plate towards her. ‘They’ve been out the oven for five minutes now, so they shouldn’t be too hot. I need you to be honest, okay?’
If this was how much pressure was involved in taste-testing trial tarts for the gala, Bex dreaded to think what it would be like when the actual day came. But swallowing down the undoubtedly unnecessary nervousness, she took a small bite of the first one.
‘Which one did you say this was?’ she asked, taking another, slightly larger nibble.
‘Why? Don’t you like it? It’s the salt, isn’t it?’ Lorna’s hands were clenched in front of her. ‘I knew I should’ve added less salt.’
‘No, no, it’s not—’
‘There’s not enough salt?’
‘No, the salt is perfect. It’s all… it’s all perfect.’
Lorna straightened her back. ‘You’re sure? It tastes good?’
‘It tastes better than good. This is divine.’ Done with politeness, and aware that it was only a mini tart, she put the entire thing in her mouth. An explosion of flavours caused her to let out a groan of pleasure.
‘Thank goodness.’ A smile flashed across Lorna’s face, only to fade again almost instantly. ‘It’s good you like it and everything, but you haven’t tried Niall’s. I don’t know what his secret ingredient is. I think maybe it’s where he gets his goat’s cheese from.’
‘There is no way anything could be better than this,’ Bex said, reaching in to get another tart, only to have her hand slapped away.
‘No. No, I need to know your opinion on the next one first.’
‘Right. Of course,’ she said. ‘The Chantilly mushroom one.’
‘Chanterelle mushroom,’ Lorna corrected. ‘Chantilly is a type of cream. But that doesn’t matter. I need to know what you think.’
‘If it’s half as good as the other one, it’s going to be amazing,’ Bex said honestly. There were still three of the goat’s cheese tartlets sitting on the plate, and she was willing to take another hand slap, or several, if it meant she got to eat them all.
‘I need you to be honest, okay?’
‘Yes. Got it. I’ll be honest.’ Bex noted the impatience in her voice, but she’d never been great at being hungry. Especially not when there was good food sitting right in front of her.
Bex once again took a small forkful before immediately going in for a second, larger bite.
‘Oh my God, it’s incredible.’ It was different from the first one, the texture, the taste, the subtlety of the flavours that seemed to build on her tongue with every chew, but it was equally delicious.
‘You don’t think there’s too much bacon in it?’ Lorna questioned. ‘I was going to put less in it, but people always like it if there’s lots of meat in things, don’t they?’
‘Unless they’re vegetarian,’ Bex said.
Lorna’s eyes widened. ‘You’re right. The judges, do you know if the other judges are vegetarian?’
Bex placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
‘Honestly, I don’t think you have to worry about it. These are incredible.’ Risking another hand slap, she reached in and picked up another piece of tart. ‘Oh, my gosh. You keep cooking like this, you can cater the wedding for us.’
Lorna scoffed, but Bex could see the pride that glimmered from her. She shrugged nonchalantly.
‘I don’t think I’ll be quite up to that anytime soon. But maybe I can do some canapés on the side? Ooh, or I could do the food for the hen do. Speaking of which, you still haven’t given me dates that work for you.’
Tension rippled through Bex’s shoulders as she gazed back down at the plate. Her appetite diminished. ‘You remember what I said about not wanting a hen do, right? The wedding’s stressful enough. We haven’t even sorted a date for that.’
Lorna wrinkled her nose. ‘I thought that was why you’d hired the amazing Amanda.’
‘It is, it is. I just need to meet her in person. It’s hard to get a proper read on someone when you’ve only ever met via emails, right?’ There was a definite question at the end of her sentence, although whether it was herself or Lorna she was trying to convince she wasn’t quite sure.
‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘No, it’s fine. She’s just very proactive in her job. Which is what I want. It’s good.’
Lorna’s smile twisted. It was great to have friends who knew you so well, except when you were lying.
‘Oh, now I can’t wait to see how Friday’s meeting goes.’ Lorna grinned.
Bex gave her a glare in response. ‘Be nice or you’ll be uninvited to the wedding.’
‘Uninvited? From the wedding? When I’m the best woman? Good luck explaining that to Duncan.’
Bex frowned. ‘Has he actually asked you to be his best woman yet?’ she questioned.
Lorna shrugged. ‘Well, if he doesn’t, I’m definitely a bridesmaid, right?’
Bex couldn’t help but laugh. Duncan had thought long and hard about his best man and still not come up with an answer for fear of upsetting someone.
His oldest friend had gone off and married his ex-fiancée, so he was out of the picture, meaning there were three possible choices. His dad. Roddy. Or Lorna.
With a glance down at the table, Bex looked back at Lorna and smirked. ‘I haven’t decided if I’m having bridesmaids at all yet,’ she said. ‘But if you pack up the rest of those tarts for me, I could probably be convinced.’
‘You’re really going to blackmail your future family?’ Lorna said, mock shock filling her face.
‘For those tarts?’ Bex replied. ‘Absolutely.’