Page 4 of A Summer of Secrets on Arran (Scottish Romances #5)

Bella stared at the open pages of the notebook in disbelief.

She read the sentences over and over again and her heart skipped a beat.

Then she slammed the book shut, wishing she hadn’t set eyes on it.

This was her mother’s private journal with her innermost thoughts and feelings.

She had no right to know any of this and she had never ever been the type of person who thought it was okay to pry and read someone else’s private thoughts — no matter how compelling and shocking it was.

Guilt and shame washed over her. Then, a small voice reminded her that she did have rights and it was okay to look.

She was entitled to know. For the last few years in particular, she had tried to get more information from her mum, but Isobel would never be drawn and would very quickly change the topic of conversation.

If her mother hadn’t wanted her to see her diary then she should have taken more care of it and either got rid of it or hidden it better.

Reading the diary was Bella’s last resort to find out the truth.

Bella’s gran, also known as Granny Margaret, had recently downsized from her family home to a small retirement flat and she had insisted that it was time for Isobel to reclaim her stuff.

Isobel had muttered about not having any space and had grudgingly taken the box which was part of a larger collection of items from her youth.

She had shoved it into the hall cupboard of their tenement flat, under a pile of camping gear, and, seemingly, must have forgotten about it.

Bella had only come across her mum’s stuff as she hauled out the tent in preparation for a camping trip she was going on at the weekend.

She heard the front door open and her mum calling out. ‘Hiya, Bella. Just me.’

Bella panicked. How could that be the time already?

She looked at her watch. Somehow, she had managed to lose a couple of hours thanks to an unexpected trip down her mum’s memory lane.

‘Hi, Mum,’ she said, hearing the door bang shut, knowing her mum would have used her foot to slam it behind her as she balanced shopping bags.

Bella quickly stuffed the book back into its box and shoved it in a corner, throwing a hoodie over it in case her mum spotted it.

‘Hi, love,’ said her mum, Isobel, popping her head round the door of Bella’s bedroom. ‘How was your day?’

‘Um, it was okay, thanks,’ she said vaguely, trying her best to look relaxed as she sprawled herself across the floor. ‘Not much was happening, so I got away earlier.’ Bella was still trying to get her head round things and, until she did, she would have to act as normally as possible.

Her mum walked into her room and frowned. ‘They’re not giving you many shifts, are they, love? Maybe you should look for something else?’

Bella sat up and scowled. She wasn’t quite sure what else she could do.

After leaving college last year — where she studied beauty and complementary therapies — she had managed to get a part-time role at a local beauty salon.

But she had also signed up to a temping agency for bar staff to earn some extra cash.

‘Everywhere is the same. Everyone else is either working on a short-term contract or on these zero hours contracts, Mum,’ she said quickly.

She knew she was being snappy but she was very frustrated that her work was so erratic.

Since joining the beauty salon, the owner had already let one of the other therapists go as their footfall was down.

People just didn’t have the money anymore to spend on facials and massages and getting their nails done.

Luxuries. The temping agency she had joined had given her jobs in Glasgow’s city centre hotels, concerts at the OVO Hydro and football matches at Hampden Park Stadium.

But demand was high for the shifts and Bella had hoped that by now she would have more security and a better sense of where she was going and what she would do next.

Instead, she felt like she was treading water and nothing had changed.

She was saving as much as she could in the hope that she could go travelling later in the year.

She and her mum and gran had been planning to visit their friend, Olivia, in California in the autumn but that had been put on hold as her mum was worried about the cost. Everything just felt a bit rubbish lately, especially as Bella was now at the stage of her life where she couldn’t wait to get out of Glasgow and explore the world and meet different people.

After all, these were supposed to be the best years of her life.

The world was meant to be her oyster. It was a shame it didn’t feel like it.

‘Okay, love, you know best,’ said her mum, rolling her eyes. ‘Och, Bella, this room is a total midden.’ She glanced around. ‘You could really do with picking some of your stuff up off the floor.’

‘How was your day?’ Bella asked, swiftly changing the conversation and making sure she kept her eyes trained on her mum’s face. The last thing she needed was for her mum to bend down and start gathering laundry, which she had a habit of doing when she was stressed.

‘It was fine. Just the usual, you know.’

Isobel worked for a children’s charity and didn’t always like to talk about work. But today wasn’t one of those days. Instead, she seemed keen to offload. ‘I’ll just grab a cuppa and tell you about it. Do you fancy one?’

‘Sure,’ said Bella, knowing she needed to be kind and listen. She scooped her dark hair into a ponytail and followed her mum into the small yet immaculate kitchen. She perched on a chair at the table as her mum bustled around making the tea.

‘There you go,’ said Isobel, placing a mug of milky tea in front of Bella.

‘Thanks, Mum.’

Isobel reached into her handbag. ‘Fancy a bit?’ she asked, snapping off a square of dark chocolate. ‘It’s packed full of antioxidants, don’t you know?’

Bella crinkled her nose. ‘You’re okay, thanks Mum. That stuff is bogging. It’s like chomping on charcoal. I’ll pass.’

As Isobel chewed the bitter chocolate, she screwed up her face.

‘Aye, I’m with you. This won’t do. I mean, I know the darker stuff is meant to be better for you especially at my stage in life.

And you’re only meant to eat one square — and no wonder.

But you’re right. It’s actually giving me the boke.

It’s time to get the emergency stash out.

’ She spat out the rest of the chocolate into a piece of kitchen roll and put it in the bin.

’Right, don’t look, Bella. Cover your eyes. ’

Bella knew exactly where all her mum’s hiding places were, including her bottle of emergency gin which was behind the baked beans.

She pretended not to watch as Isobel reached into the box of bran cereal that neither of them ate but Isobel bought as she felt she should tick that ‘eat enough fibre’ box.

She pulled out a huge bar of milk chocolate covered in purple wrapping.

‘Here, this is more like it. This is what we need,’ she said triumphantly, holding it up like a trophy.

She plonked it on the table next to Bella who reached over, ripped it open and broke off a slab. ‘Tough day, Mum?’

‘Aye,’ she said. ‘You could say that. We lost out on another funding bid and there’s talk of redundancies.’

Bella grimaced. ‘But there’s always talk of that, Mum. I’m sure it will be okay.’

Isobel shrugged and gave a small sigh. ‘I hope so.’ She popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth. ‘It’s all a bit doom and gloom just now.’

Bella knew exactly what she meant. ‘But at least you have your trip to see Rosie to look forward to,’ she said.

Isobel nodded. ‘True. Yes, that will be a nice change of scene. I’m looking forward to seeing her. Just two sleeps to go and we will be living the island life together.’

Isobel and Rosie were friends from a long time ago, having met at a youth festival in Glasgow, and Rosie had always felt like part of the family. ‘How is she?’ asked Bella.

Isobel sighed. ‘She says she is okay, but Rosie has never been one for complaining and she doesn’t ever say too much on the phone.

She tends to only open up after a while, so I will feel better once I can actually see her for myself and spend a bit of time with her.

I can’t believe it was almost a year ago we were last on Arran with your gran at the Highland Games. Time flies, eh?’

‘I know. Feels like just a few months ago. Not a whole year. By the way, are you remembering I’m away camping at the weekend?’