Page 2 of A Summer House on Arran (Scottish Romances #3)
Olivia loved their camaraderie, the way they easily joked with each other without anyone going off in a serious huff.
From what they had shared with her so far, she knew that Margaret was a widow, and Isobel had had some man trouble .
What was lovely was that the three women belonged together.
Which made her wince in sorrow. Where did she belong?
She noticed Bella staring at her and then furrowing her brow.
So far, the conversation had been fairly superficial, and Olivia had managed to dodge questions that were too personal.
She had a feeling that was about to change.
‘So, what’s next for you then, Olivia?’ asked Bella. ‘When do you go back to New York?’ She tried to imitate Olivia’s American drawl as she said it.
Olivia took a sip through her straw, which gave her a few seconds to gather her thoughts. ‘I’m not sure yet. I may stay on . . . I’ve not decided.’
‘If only you could find yourself an Italian stallion and enjoy a summer of wild sex,’ said Margaret.
Olivia almost spat out her drink.
‘Or . . .’ said Isobel, ‘if you can’t get a man here — though I’m sure you’ll bag one no bother, a lovely girl like you — then you should come to Scotland and get yerself one there. You know what they say about a true Scotsman, don’t you?’
‘Och, Mum,’ said Bella. ‘It’s not like they’re all wandering around with their kilts on. Let’s face it. A lot of them are total prats. You stick with the Italians, Olivia. Don’t listen to what she says.’
‘But a good Scots bloke is maybe what you need. They’re not all bad,’ said Isobel.
Margaret folded her arms, fixing her daughter with a withering stare. ‘Tell me one good thing about that eejit you just broke up with? He was a drunken lout.’
Isobel sucked her cheeks in. Olivia had witnessed this before; the cheek sucking was a sign that Isobel was starting to get a bit riled. Keen to avoid a row, she decided to change the subject, pronto.
‘You know,’ she said, hurriedly, ‘my aunt and uncle from California visited Scotland last year and they did Glasgow and Edinburgh. But they also raved about an island they visited and fell in love with.’
‘Where was that?’ asked Margaret. ‘Skye? Islay?’ She pulled the slice of orange from her glass and sucked on it.
Olivia shook her head. ‘No. I remember it was near Glasgow and you took a ferry there.’
‘Millport?’ suggested Bella.
‘Rothesay?’ asked Isobel.
‘No. That doesn’t sound right. It started with an . . .’ She stared at the flickering candle on the table, then shook her head. She had no idea what it started with.
‘Och, I know where it was,’ said Margaret.
‘You do?’ Olivia asked.
‘It was Arran, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes!’ Olivia beamed. ‘That’s it. Arran. Something about Scotland and small and . . .’
‘It’s called “Scotland in miniature,”’ said Bella.
‘Aye, that is a nice place to go. Mind you, it’s not the easiest place to get to, is it?’ said Isobel.
‘Oh.’ Olivia’s heart sank slightly. ‘I thought it was a short ferry ride away.’
‘Aye, it is. That’s if the ferries are running. There’s been an awful stramash with it all.’
Olivia frowned, unsure what that meant.
‘Sorry, love,’ said Margaret, ‘let me translate. That means it’s been a bit of a mess.
There’s not enough boats, they keep breaking down and being cancelled, and they’re spending billions on building new ones, which keep getting delayed and delayed.
We would have been quicker doing it ourselves.
’ Margaret shook her head sadly. ‘It’s been a right scandal.
I mean, there’s no danger the Italians would put up with that nonsense.
They would be taking to the streets in protest. They’re far too passionate to let things lie,’ she concluded dreamily.
‘We used to take Bella there when she was wee,’ said Isobel. ‘It’s definitely worth a trip. And ignore her —’ she gestured at her mum — ‘she’s being a total drama queen. It’s not that bad. You’ll get there fine. You just have to be flexible and patient.’
As Olivia sipped on the last few drops of her drink, an idea started to form.
‘The weather will definitely not be like this. Prepare for rain,’ said Bella. ‘It always pishes down at home. You could join me and my friends instead. We’re heading to Corfu in July. It’ll be boiling there.’
Olivia laughed. ‘I think I’m maybe too old for that.’
‘Aye, perhaps,’ Bella nodded her head thoughtfully.
Olivia didn’t take it personally. Bella was twenty-two compared to Olivia’s thirty-five, but she was definitely closer in spirit to Bella’s mum, Isobel, if not in years.
The truth was, Olivia didn’t care about the weather in Scotland, whether it was sunny or it rained or it snowed.
She just wanted to find refuge, to take shelter and hide from the world.
This island seemed like the perfect place to go.
‘Just remember, if you do go there, you must promise to come and see us in Glasgow,’ said Margaret.
‘Of course I will,’ said Olivia. She glanced out across the terrace and watched the sun starting to sink behind the horizon. She had a feeling that things were about to take an interesting turn.