Page 30 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle (Coorie Castle Crafts #2)

Mack blew out his cheeks as he watched his passengers disembark, while Angus was giving anyone who needed it a helping hand.

He was glad to see the back of this lot, if he was honest, and one person in particular.

The flashy git with the exaggerated air of self-importance had spent half the trip on his phone, and the other half exclaiming loudly about composition and light, line and form, and generally bigging himself up.

Mack had no idea who this guy was, and he didn’t care. The chap could be the next Picasso for all he knew, but Mack wasn’t interested. He just wished the man would shut his gob for a few minutes, because he sure did like the sound of his own voice.

‘Got any plans for this evening?’ Angus asked as they were going through the end-of-day routine.

‘Just some paperwork,’ Mack replied. He’d get that done first, then nip into the village for a couple of bits from the shop and call at the castle on the way back. ‘You?’

‘Taking the kids to the cinema to see the latest Disney film.’ He rolled his eyes, but Mack knew that Angus secretly loved kids’ films. Comics, too.

‘Get away, you’ll have a great time,’ Mack said.

Angus grinned. ‘Aye, I know. Having kids is a great excuse for doing things you used to like doing when you were a nipper.’

Mack knew what Angus meant. He loved nothing better than messing about with his niece and nephew, although Katie was more into pink, sparkly things than Mack was comfortable with, especially when she insisted on using face paints on him and he ended up with a pink beard and purple face, and looking like a character in a Disney film himself.

Ted, his nephew, was far easier; give the boy a football and he’d happily kick it around all day.

‘What time does the film start?’ Mack asked.

‘Five thirty.’

‘Get off home now,’ he told him. ‘I’ll finish up here. You too, Graham.’

‘Cheers, Skip.’

After they’d left, Mack methodically worked through the tasks, not minding doing them on his own. He found it quite relaxing to potter around on the boat and he took pride in his work.

Finally satisfied that everything was as it should be, he made sure the dock lines were secure, then headed to his makeshift office in the lock-up to catch up on his paperwork. It wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, but it was a necessary evil and he got stuck in with grim determination.

An hour later, he’d caught up on what he could, had made notes on the calendar for anything he couldn’t, and was ready to knock work on the head for the day.

He had two more jobs to do before he could go home but they shouldn’t take long. The first was to call into the shop, because he was running low on some essentials like milk and eggs, and the second was to pay the castle a quick visit.

Shopping didn’t take long – he was in and out in minutes – and he was soon heading back along the road towards the castle.

He parked around the rear, near the delivery entrance, then made his way around to the front.

The craft centre was closed for the day, but seeing it brought Freya to mind.

Not that she was out of it much – he’d been thinking about her most of the day, and as he sauntered towards the castle’s incredibly impressive main entrance, he wondered what she was doing and whether she’d been to the byre today.

As he approached the reception desk, Avril, who was manning it this evening, gave him a smile. ‘Did you want Cal?’

‘I was hoping to have a quick word with Mhairi,’ he said. ‘I promise I won’t keep her long.’

‘I’ll see if she’s free.’ She picked up the phone and spoke softly into it, before turning her attention back to him. ‘She’s in the kitchen, checking on dinner, if you want to pop along and see her. Will five minutes be enough?’

‘It will. Thanks, Avril.’

The route to the kitchen took him past the residents’ lounge, and a cursory glance inside revealed several guests enjoying pre-dinner drinks.

One of them was the loud chap from earlier, and Mack grimaced, hoping that the man would check out before he and Freya ate there – assuming Mhairi agreed to bend the rules for him, of course. There was no guarantee that she would.

Reaching the kitchen, he pushed the swing door open and a glorious wall of delicious smells hit him.

Remaining where he was (he didn’t want to risk sullying the pristine cooking areas), he waited for Mhairi to notice him. When she did, she ushered him back out into the corridor with a regal waft of her hand.

‘You wanted to see me?’ she said.

‘I did.’ He shuffled nervously, wondering where to begin.

‘Out with it, Mack, I have guests to see to.’

‘Of course, yes, sorry. The thing is, Freya wants to take me to dinner to thank me for letting her use my byre. She’s trying to work while she’s here and she can’t do it at home, so I said—’ He stopped. ‘I’m waffling.’

‘You are.’

‘I know it’s your policy to only allow guests to eat here, but do you think you can make an exception?’

‘I can. When?’

‘Whenever is convenient for you. Oh, and there’s something else; she’s expecting to pay but I don’t want her to, so could I pay for it without her knowing?’

‘I think that can be arranged,’ the old lady said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Speak to Avril.’

‘Thanks, I really appreciate it.’

Buoyed up by the success of his mission, Mack had a bounce in his step as he made his way towards the grand entrance hall.

Once more, the route took him past the lounge, and once more he glanced inside, thinking that before long he would be there with Freya and they would be enjoying a pre-dinner drink of their own.

Abruptly he halted, his eye caught by a familiar figure.

It was Freya, and she was standing at the bar with the obnoxious guy from the boat.

Unable to take his eyes off the pair, he saw the man put his arms around her and draw her into his embrace. Then the spell was broken by the sound of laughter from a group of ladies as they raised their glasses.

Anxious not to be seen, Mack hurried off, dismay filling him.

But before he left, there was something he had to do – and it wasn’t booking a table. That was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Cringing at his subterfuge, but knowing he had no other choice, as Avril wouldn’t be able to give out information about the castle’s guests, Mack said to her, ‘Did I just see Hadrian Thingamajig in the lounge?’ He tapped his forehead with his open palm.

‘I’ve forgotten his surname. My memory is like a sieve these days. ’

Avril glanced at the computer screen. ‘Yes, you’re right. Hadrian Godley.’

‘That’s it! I thought it was him.’

‘Do you want to go in?’ Avril was staring doubtfully at his customary T-shirt and shorts.

‘I would, but I’m not dressed for it. Mhairi would throw me out on my ear,’ he said, and Avril giggled.

‘Shall I let Mr Godley know you want to see him?’

‘No need. I’ll catch up with him another time.’

Mack drove home on autopilot. So that was Hadrian.

He didn’t know what he was more disappointed about: Freya having such appalling taste in men, or Jinny getting it wrong about Freya’s feelings for her boyfriend. Because from the way Freya had sunk into the man’s arms, their relationship appeared serious enough to Mack.

Freya didn’t want to cause Hadrian any embarrassment, so when he saw her enter the lounge and opened his arms, she walked into his embrace, quickly pulling back before he could kiss her. She felt awful rejecting him, but she couldn’t pretend.

Keeping an arm around her waist, he whispered, ‘I’m glad you’re here early. Let’s go to my room. Dinner can wait. It won’t matter if we’re late. I’ve missed you, babe.’

She wriggled free. ‘I’ll go upstairs, but to talk, not to…’

‘Talk? What do you want to talk about?’

‘Not here.’

Realisation spread across his face, and his expression hardened. ‘You’re dumping me?’

Freya said, ‘It’s not working, Hadrian. Surely even you can see that.’

‘ Even me? ’

‘Wrong turn of phrase,’ she backtracked hastily.

‘It damn well is. Even me , indeed!’

‘Keep your voice down.’ She glanced around the lounge, hoping no one was paying any attention to their fraught conversation.

‘Had a better offer, have you? A brawny Scotsman in a kilt?’

‘No! I keep telling you, I’m here because my dad needs me. I’m not here for fun.’

His eyes were hard, as he slowly said, ‘You have had a better offer. You’re going to New York.’ He shook his head, his lips a thin line. ‘I thought it was just a rumour, but no smoke without a fire, eh, Freya?’

‘It’s not that—’

‘Of course it is! Don’t insult me.’

‘It’s not!’ she insisted.

‘Bullshit. And I bet that’s what that stupid boat trip was about.

I bet you’ve started working on new pieces to impress your new boss.

’ His look of disgust made her flinch. He hissed, ‘I’ve supported you and championed you for the past two years, and this is the thanks I get?

’ In a tone of pure dislike, he added, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if your precious father isn’t ill at all, and you lied to me so you could throw me off the scent.

Good luck in New York – you’re going to need it.

’ He turned away from her and snapped his fingers at the bar staff. ‘A double vodka. Now!’

Near to tears, Freya whispered, ‘I’m sorry,’ but Hadrian refused to acknowledge her, and after a second or two she slunk out of the lounge, utterly ashamed.

Not because she’d ended it with Hadrian, but because she had been working on new pieces when she really should have been giving her poor dad her full attention.

The whisky was smooth, with an earthy undertone, and it was slipping down Mack’s throat far too easily. He guessed he might regret it come the morning, but right now he simply didn’t care, so he poured himself another dram and turned up the volume.

‘Angie’ by The Rolling Stones blasted out of the speakers, and he rested his head on the back of the old wooden chair, letting the sound wash over him.