Page 39 of A Summer House on Arran (Scottish Romances #3)

Over the next week, Olivia threw herself into organising rehearsal schedules with the kids, spending most of her time down at the community centre practicing routines and helping them perfect their moves.

They were so enthusiastic and keen to learn, and it reminded her why she loved teaching so much.

Fortunately there weren’t too many urgent emails in her inbox, aside from a few invitations to audition for some major tours that her manager had forwarded her.

Normally she would have leaped at the chance, but that wasn’t where her head was at right now.

She had emailed Gina back, apologising profusely for her hiatus, but that she was taking some extended time out.

She had previously told Gina that she was taking some compassionate leave but hadn’t expanded with any further details.

The world of show business could be small at times, and she knew Gina was extremely friendly with Patrick’s agent, so she kept the details vague.

She didn’t want to give any hint of where she was in case the news filtered back to Patrick.

She was so glad Amy had thought to reach out and ask for her help with the competition.

A project like this was exactly what she needed.

She and Kitty caught up each night for supper, but Kitty was equally busy with sorting out her Instagram account and trying new recipes, and she had started the art class and had a new best friend called Alex, who was Amy and Kirsty’s dad.

‘I thought you only had eyes for Logan,’ teased Olivia.

‘Not when Alex is in the room,’ confessed Kitty. ‘He’s great company and so interesting, and did I mention that he’s an amazing painter? I’ve learned so much already just from sitting next to him and watching what he does.’

This particular morning, Olivia woke early to the sound of rain battering against the windows.

The house was quiet, which was strange as Kitty was normally an early riser.

It was when she liked to bake. But on tiptoeing through to the kitchen, there was no sign that she had been there, and her bedroom door was still closed.

She certainly deserved a lie-in, and the weather was extremely gloomy.

This is what everyone meant when they said the Scottish weather could change in an instant.

Olivia had experienced it that first day when arriving at Prestwick, but the good weather that followed had lulled her into a false sense of security.

Especially as she and Kitty had sat up late in the garden last night talking after enjoying another warm and sunny day.

Shivering, she grabbed her hoodie that was on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it on.

Olivia tipped some coffee into the cafetière and filled the kettle.

While she waited for the water to boil, she stretched her arms up, certainly feeling the toll all this extra exercise was taking on her body.

It was just as well she was so active, as living with Kitty was like having your own in-house baker.

She had been whipping up cakes, scones, brownies, traybakes and artfully stacking them or positioning them onto the beautiful stoneware plates in the cottage, before dusting them with icing sugar and then taking some footage and shots for her Instagram reels.

She always kept a few aside for Olivia, and then she’d box them up and insist that Olivia take them down to rehearsals and share them with the kids.

That was probably what had made her so popular, she thought wryly.

Part of the reason they greeted her so excitedly each time was that they couldn’t wait to see what was in her Tupperware boxes.

She popped in her earbuds, glad she had packed her old MP3 player.

The kids seemed to like her music choices too.

They had three minutes to do one dance, and she had suggested they do a medley, or a ‘mash-up’ as they preferred to say.

They weren’t shy about correcting her Americanisms and replacing them with some more local words that, thanks to the careful tutelage of Granny Margaret, Isobel and Bella in Italy, she was already familiar with.

She had quite the repertoire now with words such as ‘bawbag’, ‘eejit’, ‘numpty’ and ‘bampot’, which were alternative words for an idiot; ‘bolt ya rocket’, which meant ‘please go away’; and her favourite ‘scunnered’, which meant ‘fed up’.

Her attempts to say ‘loch’ properly were a great source of amusement, as was the way she referred to trousers as ‘pants’. That had caused a lot of sniggering.

When it came to sharing the music options for their dance with them, she was fully prepared for their mockery.

But they actually surprised her when they’d chosen the medley on her MP3 player that was a favourite of hers, with Justin Timberlake, Janet Jackson, Beyoncé and Missy Elliot.

She had shown them a suggested routine — a mix of commercial and street dance — which they’d been excited about and keen to get started on straightaway.

Given there was still a few weeks to go until the competition, she was very impressed.

The group was a mixture of ages from eight to fifteen, with ten girls and five boys, and they were a brilliant team, all supporting each other, even when Olivia knew they were tired and feeling a bit ‘scunnered’ if they couldn’t quite master the moves immediately.

She looked out the window, staring at the dark sky, and then caught sight of someone behind her, wearing a hood, in the reflection of the window. She yelped and spun round, her heart beating fast until she realised who it was.

‘Are you trying to scare me to death, sneaking around like that?’ she cried.

‘Sorry,’ said Kitty sheepishly. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you. I did call out a few times, but I guess you didn’t hear as you had your earbuds in.’ She put her shopping bags down and shook her hood off. ‘It’s horrid out there.’

‘I thought you were still in bed. I didn’t hear you go out.’ Olivia poured the water into the cafetière, stirred it and plunged down the lid. ‘And I’m sorry for snapping. I just always feel so on edge. I wonder if that feeling will ever go.’

Kitty went to hang her jacket at the back door and started putting the groceries away. ‘Logan is coming for dinner tonight,’ she said, in way of explanation for all the food she’d bought.

‘Ah, of course. And how many people are you planning to feed?’

‘I wasn’t sure what to get,’ she wailed. ‘I’ve not done any of this stuff for years. I can’t remember the last time I made dinner for a man who wasn’t a relative or a friend of Cameron’s.’

Olivia looked at her. ‘So you decided to buy the whole store?’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You’re right. But I didn’t know what to make. Lasagne or casserole or steak. I’ve probably gone overboard, but then I thought you might like to join us?’

Olivia was absent-mindedly tugging at the chord of her hoodie. ‘No way am I third-wheeling with you guys. I’ll make myself scarce.’

‘Don’t on my account,’ said Kitty pleadingly. ‘I could do with the moral support.’

Olivia chuckled. ‘I’m sure you’ll manage.’

‘But what will you do? Where will you go?’

Olivia chewed her lip. ‘I’m sure I’ll find something to do. Don’t you worry about me. Coffee?’

‘Please, I’m dying for one.’

She handed a steaming mug to Kitty.

‘Ta. I’m so sorry for scaring you like that. How are you doing?’

‘Fine,’ she said quickly.

‘How are you really ?’

Olivia met Kitty’s eyes and sighed. ‘I’m terrified that he’ll show up.

I know it’s unlikely, but I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder every two minutes.

Every time the doorbell goes, I’m on edge and, well, you saw what happened there when you walked into the kitchen.

I feel like I’ll end up driving myself mad .

. . It’s like he’s still here in my head. ’

Kitty nodded in sympathy. ‘I think that’s all normal.’

Olivia shuddered. ‘It just doesn’t feel that way right now.’

‘You’re doing amazing. You came here knowing nobody, and now you’re making a positive impact on the kids here. You didn’t need to do that, especially after the time that you’ve had.’

Olivia considered that, then nodded. ‘When you put it like that then yes, I guess I’ve done more than okay.’

‘I hope you don’t mind, but can I make a suggestion?’

She put her mug down on the table. ‘Sure.’

Kitty’s brow was knotted in concern. ‘Have you thought about speaking to someone about all of this?’

‘What, like a shrink?’

Kitty nodded. ‘I think it might help.’

‘I can’t really just pretend none of this happened, can I?’

Kitty shook her head and smiled gently.

Olivia knew that Kitty was right. Whether she was strong enough to do anything about it was another thing.

* * *

The weather had been appalling all day, and Olivia had sat at the kitchen table talking with Kitty as she prepared dinner for that night.

It was late afternoon when Olivia found herself reluctantly agreeing to hang around.

‘Just for the dinner bit though, right? It will give me a chance to properly apologise to Logan too, but then I’ll make myself scarce,’ she said.

‘I’m so glad you’re going to be here,’ said Kitty gratefully. ‘It makes it less of a date. More of a night of him coming here to hang out with friends.’

‘You tell yourself that if it’s easier, Kitty. But I think we both know there’s more to it than that.’ Olivia smirked. ‘Now are you all prepared , if you know what I mean?’

‘I’ve got all the food prepped and the brownies are in the oven.’ She knew full well it wasn’t what Olivia meant.

‘Why don’t you let me take the brownies out the oven when the buzzer goes, and you go and do that essential grooming so that you’re date-night ready. If you get my drift.’

Kitty, who was wiping down the kitchen surfaces, froze in horror. ‘I’m not about to jump into bed with him,’ she exclaimed.

‘What about that motto, always be prepared . Didn’t they teach you that in Girl Scouts or whatever it is you do here?’

‘Olivia,’ she said admonishingly. ‘Please don’t make this any worse than it is. I’m not having sex with him tonight .’

‘Why not?’ she argued. ‘He’s a good-looking guy and you’re a beautiful woman.’ She paused, then added, ‘Maybe you both need a bit of sexual healing . . .’

Kitty burst out laughing and threw the dishcloth across the kitchen at her. ‘Would you stop it? Honestly. I’m nervous enough as it is.’