Page 12 of A Summer House on Arran (Scottish Romances #3)

Olivia was horrified when the woman dissolved in front of her.

She wasn’t just crying, she was sobbing, taking huge shuddering gulps of air.

Olivia was going to have to take charge.

Grabbing the box of tissues in the hallway, she ushered Kitty into the living area and pointed to a seat.

‘Sit down,’ she said bossily, though she was trying to be kind.

‘Come on, it’s not that bad. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.

Don’t cry.’ She could have kicked herself.

Who was she to tell anyone not to cry? She didn’t know the first thing about this woman. Maybe she had every reason to cry.

‘Look, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding and we can sort something out.’ She tried to sound convincing, but knew she was unconvincing. She thrust a couple of tissues at Kitty, who took them.

‘Th-thank you,’ she stammered.

‘That’s okay. Now have a seat and I’ll fetch you a cup of tea.’

‘Thanks,’ muttered Kitty.

Olivia felt sorry for this woman, who was now looking mortified as she mopped up her tears.

‘I’m so sorry about all of this,’ Kitty said around her tissue. ‘It’s just that I was so looking forward to this . . . it’s been ages since I’ve had a holiday or some time alone.’

Olivia nodded kindly and smiled. Then she held out a hand. ‘I’ve not even introduced myself. Kitty, I’m Olivia.’

‘And I’m Kitty,’ Kitty repeated.

Olivia nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen. ‘I’ll go and get that cuppa, then. What do you take?’

‘Just the bag and hot water please,’ Kitty said.

‘No problem. Two minutes.’

Olivia returned with the tea and placed a mug gently down next to Kitty. The women sat together, quietly sipping, both deep in thought.

‘Where are you from?’ asked Kitty, taking Olivia by surprise.

‘Oh,’ she started, caught on the hop. ‘I live in New York.’

Kitty’s eyes widened. ‘Wow. That’s where my son has gone for the summer.’

‘Right . . . Well, I’m sure that will be a great experience for him. How old is he?’

‘Eighteen. First time he’s been properly away from home, so I’m a bit on edge.’

‘I see . . . what is he doing there?’

‘Camp America.’

Olivia flicked her hand dismissively. ‘He’ll be absolutely fine, you know. That’s when I left home and—’ She stopped talking when she realised Kitty had fixed her with a steely glare.

‘He’s still my little boy.’

Uh-oh , thought Olivia, one of those protective types, especially when it came to her beloved son. She had come across mums like Kitty before, and she knew she’d better watch herself and reign it in.

Kitty continued to chat politely to Olivia as they drank their tea and exchanged pleasantries. However, it was clear neither of them wanted to be there with the other. They were nevertheless going through the motions.

Olivia was relieved to be avoiding too many questions about her own background and why she had ended up on Arran.

Mind you, she had become quite the expert over the past few weeks at dodging questions and deflecting the conversation away from herself.

She wanted to keep it that way. She had managed to share very little with Margaret, Isobel and Bella, yet knew an amazing amount of detail about their lives.

It was surprisingly easy to do — people tended to enjoy talking about themselves if they were given the space to talk.

It always amazed her how much personal information people would share about their lives, whether it was their health problems, marital woes, job irritations or money problems. Not Kitty though, interestingly.

And she was becoming increasingly diffident and monosyllabic with her answers.

Kitty put her mug down on the table, suddenly stood up and announced she was going for a walk. ‘I need to clear my head and gather my thoughts,’ she said. ‘Thanks for the tea. Um, I won’t be too long. Will you be here?’

Olivia didn’t know what to say. ‘Sure. Why?’

‘So I can get back in.’

‘Of course. Though why not just take the key in the meantime? In case I go out.’

‘Can I leave my stuff here? Or would you rather I put it in the car?’

Olivia shook her head. ‘It’s fine. Just leave it there. Look, I know this isn’t ideal, but just put it in one of the bedrooms until we figure out what to do.’

Kitty threw her a grateful smile. ‘Thank you. I won’t be long.’

Olivia watched Kitty retrace her steps and move her bags into the bedroom at the front of the house. Then she closed the front door behind her.

‘I’ll get your mug then, shall I?’ she said out loud as she picked up Kitty’s cold tea and took it through to the kitchen. Boy, this was not what she had signed up for. Something would have to give.