Page 19 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle (Coorie Castle Crafts #2)

‘She’s being modest,’ Mhairi said to the others.

‘Maybe we could ask Freya whether she would like to run a workshop here – as a one-off, of course. Rob isn’t keen, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

’ She turned her bright gaze on Freya. ‘I realise you have commitments elsewhere, but if time allows maybe you would consider it? Or perhaps a talk? Hmm, that might be an option.’

Freya had been starting to relax, despite the formality and the castle’s rather intimidating owner.

Mhairi was a gracious and genteel host, if somewhat regal, with old-world manners.

Cal appeared totally at home in her company, although Freya sensed that Mack was a fish equally as out of water as she.

It kind of bonded them together in some small way, as they kept meeting each other’s gaze, usually with a smile and occasionally with a hint of mild panic when faced with so many choices of cutlery.

But now Freya was tense once more. So much for not discussing business until after the meal! They hadn’t finished the first course yet and the old lady was already bargaining harder than a dodgy market trader.

‘Um, I’ll have to see how it goes with Dad,’ Freya hedged. ‘I’m not going to be able to leave him alone for long at first.’

‘Understood…’ Mhairi said, and Freya thought that was the end of it, until she added, ‘But when you are able, we’ll discuss it, yes?’

Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Freya froze, not wanting to discuss it at all, and she wondered how she could politely turn the woman down. It seemed rather rude to refuse, when she was enjoying a meal at her table.

A tap on her ankle from Mack’s foot made her realise that Mhairi was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

‘Er, yes, of course. We’ll chat again when he’s better.’

Another tap, this time slightly harder, and she glared at Mack, who was grinning at her.

‘Liar,’ he mouthed, and she scowled at him.

The rest of the meal went considerably smoother – for Freya at least. For Mack, not so much.

After Mhairi had expertly and knowledgeably quizzed Freya on what she had been looking for when she was out on the loch, what had caught her eye and what she thought the hotel guests would gain from the experience, the old lady turned her gimlet gaze on Mack.

It was Freya’s turn to grin as he shifted uncomfortably at Mhairi’s ability to counter all his arguments for not trying at least one official Colours of Skye excursion.

‘What have you got to lose?’ Mhairi asked.

Mack pulled a face and Freya pressed her lips together to hold in a giggle. Poor Mack, she felt rather sorry for him – he clearly didn’t stand a hope in hell when it came to the owner of Coorie Castle. Freya definitely wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her.

‘That’s settled,’ Mhairi announced with a satisfied smile, delicately dabbing her lips with a linen napkin. ‘Coffee?’

‘Lovely,’ Freya said, placing her own napkin next to her plate. The food had been wonderful and she was so full that she could barely move.

After the coffee and some exquisite handmade chocolates to go with it, she was seriously concerned that she would fall asleep at the table.

It had been another busy day (recently, every day was hectic) and she was ready for bed, even though it was still light outside and it wouldn’t be dark for another hour.

Having lived down south for so many years, she wasn’t used to the days being quite so long.

But she didn’t want to appear rude by leaving yet, with the meal not long finished, so she decided to take her cue from Mack.

However, it was Mhairi who made the first move. ‘I think it’s time I retired to bed. I find I don’t have the stamina I once did. These days I tire more easily.’ She made to rise and Cal leapt out of his seat to pull out her chair.

‘Thank you, Cal. Give Tara my love. It’s a pity she wasn’t able to join us for dinner this evening. Another time, perhaps? And you must come again, Freya, my dear. It was a pleasure to meet you.’

Mack got to his feet and Freya followed suit. She said, ‘It was a pleasure to meet you too, and thank you so much for inviting me. The meal was divine.’

‘Not up to London standards, I suspect.’

‘It most definitely was,’ Freya assured her. Mhairi was being modest. ‘I can’t think of a time when I’ve had better,’ she added.

‘You’re so kind. Why don’t you and Mack get off? I’d like a quick word with Cal.’

Freya bade them both good night and accompanied Mack out of the castle.

Despite her tiredness and full tummy, she was reluctant to leave and she turned around to gaze at the old building.

‘It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘But maybe gorgeous is the wrong word. Magnificent is better. To think it’s been standing for the best part of eight hundred years.’

‘Aye, and it’ll probably stand here for another eight hundred.’

‘I hope so. There’s something quite humbling about so much history. I’d forgotten that.’

Mack chuckled. ‘Isn’t there the same amount of history in London? I was under the impression there was rather more of it.’

Freya wrinkled her nose. ‘You know what I mean.’

He nodded slowly. ‘I do. It’s the raw power of a place like this. It can get lost in a place like London, I think.’

‘Have you been there?’

‘I have, but I wasn’t keen.’

‘It can be a bit of a culture shock,’ Freya acknowledged, even for her, who had loved the city from the very first time she’d visited it. She still did. It was so alive, so vibrant. And the culture was to die for.

Still, now that she was back on Skye, she really should make the time to reconnect with nature; it would do wonders for her work, and since the boat trip, she’d been buzzing with ideas.

Her thoughts went to her studio and the items that were still waiting to be fired. It wouldn’t hurt for them to dry for a few more weeks, but it pained her to think that she wouldn’t be there for a while. She was itching to get back to it.

‘I really did get a lot out of the boat trip,’ she said softly. ‘I think other people will, too.’

‘I’m not sure I will,’ Mack grumbled, but she could tell it was half-hearted.

‘Go on, you’ll love it,’ she teased. ‘And think of the extra money.’

‘It’s not all about money,’ he countered. ‘Do you make your pots purely for the money?’

‘Absolutely not! I do it because I love ceramics.’ Pots indeed! She made much more than pots.

He said, ‘That’s my point exactly, but it helps that I earn a living from doing what I love.’

His gaze met hers and they grinned at each other, Freya feeling a warm glow that he ‘got’ her. It wasn’t about the money (although it helped) and neither was it about the recognition. It was about the act of making something unique and beautiful out of a lump of clay.

She imagined that for Mack, it was being out on the water, at one with the wind and the tides, on a fickle sea under an ever-changing sky. She could appreciate the rawness of it, the beauty and the majesty.

‘Would you like to go for a walk?’ he suggested. ‘It’s a glorious evening for it.’

It was. The sky was silvered where the sun’s light had dimmed, darkening imperceptibly to steel, then indigo. There was already a smattering of stars to the east and more would appear as the remaining light faded. The breeze was light, although it would pick up away from the shelter of the castle.

She asked, ‘Where did you have in mind? It’ll be dark soon.’

‘There’s a duck pond. We could stroll around that.’

Freya blinked. She’d been half-expecting him to suggest going down to the loch. ‘They’ll be asleep,’ she pointed out.

‘Who will?’

‘The ducks.’

‘We can tiptoe.’ His expression was serious.

Freya giggled. ‘You’re being silly. I thought the whole point of walking around a duck pond was to see the ducks.’

‘I don’t mind not seeing them, if you don’t.’

‘How about we take a stroll down to the loch instead?’

‘I assumed you’d had enough of the loch yesterday.’

‘Actually, I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed all this. I’m going to miss it even more when I leave.’

This surprised her. In all the years she’d lived in London she hadn’t felt homesick once. What she’d felt was heartbroken and incredibly sad. She’d missed her mother more than words could say, and she missed her dad too. But she hadn’t missed Skye .

‘You won’t be leaving for some time, though, will you?’ he asked, as they made their way down the lane.

‘No,’ she replied slowly.

They arrived at the sliver of beach, and she breathed in sharply at the sight of the inky water and the dark mountains on the opposite shore. With the sun having set behind them, they looked forbidding and mysterious. She’d forgotten what a magical place this was.

Crouching, she dug her fingers into the coarse sand, letting the grains trickle through her fingers.

‘Don’t worry, the time will fly by,’ he said, and she realised he’d taken her silence for dismay that she wasn’t returning to London sooner.

‘It’s not that,’ she said. ‘I just wish I could do some work while I’m here.

I’m lost without my pottery. I did consider packing a few bits of equipment when I was in London, but I decided against it.

Although hand building can be done with a few simple tools, it can be messy and I don’t think my dad would appreciate me taking over his kitchen.

There’s also the problem of storing the clay while I work on it, plus I’d need somewhere to dry it.

’ Freya wrinkled her nose. She was missing her studio badly.

She couldn’t imagine how she was going to cope without it for the next few weeks.

‘You could use my place, if you like,’ he said.

‘ Your house?’

‘The byre. I keep a few bits and pieces in it, but there’s room to spare.’

‘You’re very kind, but I couldn’t impose.’ Her refusal was automatic.

‘Don’t be daft. You won’t be imposing. You can come and go as you please, as long as you don’t steal the fish out of the fridge.’ His eyes twinkled, teasing her.

‘No, honestly, I couldn’t.’

‘You could ,’ he insisted. ‘You need a space to work and I’ve got one. What’s the problem?’

‘I don’t have any tools with me and neither do I have any clay.’

Mack chuckled. ‘That’s what the internet is for. Surely you can buy what you need online?’

‘I suppose I could.’ It’s what she normally did.

She thought about his offer, and the more she considered it, the more attractive it became. Making her mind up, she said, ‘Thank you, I will, and I promise I won’t steal your fish. You must let me give you something for your trouble, though.’

Freya wasn’t prepared for the flash of irritation in Mack’s eyes, nor for the firm set of his lips before he replied, ‘I don’t want payment. That’s not why I offered.’

Realising she’d insulted him, she hastened to say, ‘I know you don’t, but—’

‘No buts. This is what we do around here; we help each other. Or have you forgotten?’

She had, but she didn’t want to admit it. The city was so different to Duncoorie and although she had friends there and knew at least two of her neighbours, she wouldn’t expect such generosity from someone she hardly knew.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply.

‘The byre isn’t locked; just come and go as you please.’

‘It won’t be for a couple of weeks.’

‘No matter.’ Mack turned his face to the sky.

The breeze had freshened, and broken cloud scudded overhead. Freya shivered. The days might be warm, but the evenings could turn chilly.

Mack noticed the small movement. ‘Home time, I think. I’ve an early start. Mind you, all my starts are early when the forecast is good.’

‘So have I. I’m hoping Dad will be discharged tomorrow.’

‘If you need anything, just ask. You’ve got my number.’

‘I will,’ she promised as they turned to walk back to the castle and their respective vehicles. ‘Good night, Mack. I’ve enjoyed myself this evening.’

‘Aye, Mhairi lays a good table.’

That wasn’t quite what Freya had meant, but she decided it was best to go with his interpretation, because what she’d actually meant was that she’d enjoyed seeing him again, had enjoyed their walk and had enjoyed his company. So it was probably a good thing he’d misunderstood her.

Freya glared at the message from Hadrian, wishing she hadn’t sent him

photos of her boat trip or mentioned having dinner at Coorie Castle. It

consisted of one word – sightseeing – followed by a

laughing-face emoji.

She replied. Work, actually .

Out on a boat? Work?

Inspiration.

Dinner at a castle? Surely not work.

Feedback

Was the food good?

Yes. Yummy.

It’s a bit old-fashioned, though was his reply and Freya imagined Hadrian scrolling through the castle’s website with a sneer on his sculpted lips. He didn’t do old-fashioned.

Does it smell of mothballs?

Freya rolled her eyes. Do you even know what mothballs smell like?

Another laughing-face emoji.

Thought not.

Do you? he asked.

No. She smiled to herself. Envious?

Of you having dinner in an old pile like that? Not really.

Did you go somewhere nicer this evening?

I ordered in.

Bet my dinner was nicer than yours. Was there a poking-out tongue emoji, she wondered.

Got more sightseeing planned?

Freya pursed her lips, annoyed that Hadrian was persisting with the idiotic insistence that she was there on a jaunt. She knew he was trying to cheer her up, but honestly! A bit of sympathy and understanding wouldn’t go amiss.

With a Good night , she closed all the apps down and tossed her phone on the bed, then as she cleansed her face and changed into her PJs, she resolved to tell him they were over.

She should do it soon, she decided, and although she continued to be reluctant to end it over the phone, she couldn’t make the long journey to London and back, so the only option was to call him.

Not now, though. She’d had a long day and was tired, and she’d only just had a conversation with him.

She would do it tomorrow.

Decision made, Freya felt rather despondent. Hadrian had been part of her life for the past two years, so she supposed it was only natural to feel glum.

However, it wasn’t Hadrian who invaded her thoughts as she drifted off to sleep – it was Mack.