Anne Douglas (12 page)

Nineteen

Once in the little café Torquil knew, the weariness vanished, anyway, and all she could feel, sitting opposite him at a window table, was a blissful sense of well-being. Even in his damp jersey, with his hair sticking to his brow, he was so handsome, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, yet was thrilled that his light blue gaze was just as firmly fixed on her. How did he see her? He had called her beautiful, but that was the sort of thing men said without at all meaning it. She felt it wasn’t true, but maybe to him it was? She wished she could know what he was thinking. Seemed he was wishing the same about her.

‘Is this where I say penny for them?’ he asked, as a waitress, smiling at Torquil, brought a pot of tea and a plate of toasted teacakes.

‘My thoughts?’ She poured their tea. ‘I was wondering if you knew that waitress.’

‘Went to school with her sister. She’s called Nina, her sister is Jill. And that’s all that’s in your mind?’

‘Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t take harm, sitting there in your wet sweater.’

‘Catch my death?’ He grinned. ‘You don’t know how tough I have to be. I cannot afford to worry about a shower of rain.’

‘Don’t you have waterproofs for the boat?’

‘Sometimes get caught out – never take any harm. What about you, then?’

‘I had a coat.’

‘Sensible girl.’

‘Not always.’ She flushed a little, but he made no comment, only passed her the teacakes, and she said quickly that her mother used always to be worrying about her and her sister getting wet and catching cold and so on. Mothers were like that, eh?

‘Oh, mine has given up worrying.’ He looked at her with sudden sympathy. ‘But I am very sorry that you have no mother now.’

‘Thank you. She’s been gone a while.’

‘Like my father. He died at sea.’

‘That’s very sad,’ she said carefully, not minding that he was giving her the version he would prefer of what had happened to his father. It was possible, of course, he didn’t know the one the village gossiped about, but that didn’t seem likely.

‘Must have been hard for your mother, managing on her own, with two boys to bring up.’

‘Yes.’ He leaned forward, his eyes darkening. ‘That is what people here do not remember. They blame her for being difficult, but she’s the one who’s had the difficult life. Where is their sympathy?’

‘I’m sorry, Torquil, it’s been hard for all of you.’

He sat back, relaxing, his look softening. ‘For you and your family, too. How did your father manage, for instance, after your mother had gone?’

‘He still hasn’t got over losing her – that’s why we came here, to start a new life – but my sister and me, we’re lucky to have him.’

‘Two lovely daughters,’ Torquil said softly. ‘He was lucky, too. Tell me, did you have jobs in Edinburgh?’

‘Of course we did!’ Monnie laughed. ‘We’re not exactly in the private income class! Lynette worked for a lawyer, I helped to run a bookshop.’ She hesitated. ‘I suppose you think that sounds dull?’

‘No, I’m impressed. And will you look for that sort of job here?’

‘I’ve already got a job. I’m assistant warden to my dad. I start officially next week.’

His eyes shone. ‘Monnie, that is wonderful. Why did you not tell me earlier? Now you will be able to decide about my fish yourself.’

‘Torquil, we always take your fish,’ she said gently. ‘It’s for us, not the hostel.’

‘Of course it is.’ He pressed her hand in his, then glanced at his watch, large and weather-stained with a thick strap, and shook his head. ‘Time we were going. Must get you back home before your father becomes anxious.’

‘Back home? Now? But it’s quite early.’

Though she was trying not to show her dismay, her face had paled a little and her eyes had widened. ‘I’m not fifteen, Torquil, I don’t have to be home to a curfew.’

He laughed and held her hand. ‘No, no, but this is our first time out. It’s best you are not late. And then I did say I would go over to see Tony in Kyle tonight.’

‘You are going to see your brother? I thought you wanted to see me.’

‘I do. But, the thing is, I said I’d go over tonight before I arranged to meet you. And then, I’ve explained, I do not want you to be late home.’

‘I’m not likely to be late home when it’s still teatime,’ she said stiffly and stood up to find her coat. ‘Let me get the bill.’

But he had already waved to their waitress, who came up running, all smiles for Torquil.

‘Are you wanting your bill, then?’

‘Please, Nina.’ He was smiling, too, and as he paid, continued to smile, while taking Monnie’s arm and leaving the café.

‘As though I’d let you pay for our tea,’ he whispered. ‘But you only offered because you were cross with me. Is that not so? Why be cross?’

‘I’m not cross.’ The rain had stopped, the evening smelled fresh and sweet, and she had begun to feel better. ‘Torquil, I’ve had a lovely time. Thank you for showing me the brochs, and for giving me tea. I’m sorry if I wasn’t very understanding.’

‘You were very sweet,’ he told her, helping her into the front seat of his van. ‘I have had a wonderful time, too.’

From his own seat, he looked at her, then turned his head and looked up and down the village street. No one in sight.

‘Just time for this,’ he said quietly and kissed her on the mouth, drawing back very soon as though to judge her reaction. ‘You don’t mind, Monnie?’

‘No, I don’t mind.’ Heavens, no! How could she mind? She had been waiting for this moment all afternoon.

‘Home, then. You see, it is getting dark. It will not seem so early.’

‘And you are to drive all the way to Kyle? Take care, Torquil.’

‘I am taking the bus, I should just be in time,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I am staying overnight, anyway.’

‘Oh,’ said Monnie. ‘Staying overnight?’

‘Much easier. Tony can drive me back tomorrow. He is coming to see Mother.’

They did not speak again until they reached the hostel gate, when they looked up the drive to the lighted windows. They were too far away to hear voices, though probably all the hostellers would be back and in the kitchen.

‘Goodnight, Monnie,’ Torquil said, touching her face for a moment. ‘I’ve got to get the van home and make a dash for that bus. Shall I see you on Tuesday? You will not be going to the shop?’

‘I shall not be going to the shop.’ Monnie was already fiddling with her door, but Torquil leaned across and opened it for her and she climbed out. From the gate, she called, ‘Goodnight, Torquil, and thank you again.’

‘See you Tuesday!’ he called back, and then the van went roaring away and after standing watching for a moment she turned and walked slowly up the drive.

‘Monnie, is that you?’ came her sister’s voice, as she opened the main door of the hostel and Lynette came rushing to meet her. ‘Oh, Monnie – amazing news! I’ve got the job! The letter came this afternoon.’

‘Lynette, congratulations – that’s terrific!’

‘It is, eh?’ But Lynette’s face was puzzled. ‘Dad,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘Monnie’s back!’

‘Already?’ asked Frank, coming out of his office, and kicking aside a pile of boots still waiting to be put away. ‘Well!’

‘You’re awful early, aren’t you?’ Lynette asked, fingering the still damp sleeve of Monnie’s coat. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Of course. We had a lovely time. Went to see those ancient towers – the brochs – then had tea in Glenelg.’

‘The brochs?’ Frank glanced at Lynette. ‘Torquil think you’re interested in ancient monuments, then?’

‘He says everyone has to see the towers.’

‘Not exactly romantic,’ Lynette commented.

‘That’s where you’re wrong, there was something very romantic about them. You should see them yourself.’

‘If you say so. But why are you back so early?’

Monnie looked away. ‘Torquil had to go over to Kyle to see his brother. He’d arranged it earlier.’

‘The famous brother? Fancy.’ Lynette shrugged. ‘Shall we go and make something to eat, then? We’ve been having a pretty busy time, haven’t we, Dad? Quite a load of folk came booking in. I had to help again.’

‘I’m not really hungry – too much teacake – but I’ll give you a hand.’ Monnie, feeling she was appearing too subdued, smiled at her father. ‘Be ready soon, Dad.’

‘Fine. Glad you enjoyed your outing, Monnie.’

Later, in their own kitchen, Lynette, sliding a large dish of macaroni cheese under the grill, asked, ‘Mind if I ask, but did you really enjoy it?’

‘My outing? Yes. Yes, I did.’

‘Just thought you seemed a bit down, when you first came in.’

‘Did I?’

‘Bit of an anticlimax, was it, coming home so early?’

Monnie sighed. ‘Suppose it was.’

‘Don’t blame you for being upset, when Torquil was only going to see his brother.’

‘It wasn’t seeing his brother that upset me, more he didn’t seem to mind. I mean, he thought it was all right to leave me early. Said he didn’t want to upset Dad by making me late.’

‘I suppose that might have been true, as it was your first time out together. Things could be different next time.’

‘Do you think so?’ Monnie brightened. ‘Well, you may be right. Next time could be better.’

‘And you do want a next time, I take it?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Monnie’s tone was soft. ‘Yes, I do.

For a long moment, the sisters were silent, busying themselves cutting up tomatoes, slicing bread for toast, until Lynette asked, ‘Things aren’t so bad, are they? After all, you’ve got your job, I’ve got mine, and you’re been out with Torquil. I reckon we’ve made a pretty good start to our new life, eh? Even if I do have to work with Mr Difficult.’

‘You’ll soon sort him out.’

‘Too right, he won’t know what’s hit him.’ Lynette shook her head. ‘Och, wish we had a glass of wine or something to celebrate, don’t you?’

‘We don’t need any wine to celebrate. Come on, let’s make our tea.’

‘The only people ever known to celebrate with macaroni cheese, eh?’

As the sisters began to laugh, Frank came in and began to laugh himself, seeing his girls so happy. Things were working out, then, just as he’d hoped. Life in the Highlands – it had been a gamble, and he was no gambling man, but now, seemed he’d hit the jackpot.

‘Should be having a wee dram,’ he said, smiling.

‘Whatever for?’ asked Monnie.

‘To celebrate.’

‘Just what I said,’ Lynette cried. ‘We should have been celebrating our new jobs, shouldn’t we?’

‘Not just new jobs.

‘What, then?’

‘You know, don’t you?’

‘Of course we do,’ Monnie declared. ‘You mean, being here, together.’

‘And being happy. You are happy, eh?’

‘Dad, I think you’ve asked us that before,’ Lynette told him lightly.

‘Well, is the answer still the same?’

‘It is.’

‘More so,’ Monnie murmured. ‘If you see what I mean.’

Frank gave a little sigh. ‘That’s nice to hear, then. Thank you, girls.’

They were giving him quick hugs, when Lynette cried, ‘Help, the macaroni! Still under the grill! Quick, the oven gloves!’

‘Thought I could smell something,’ Frank said cheerfully.

‘It’s OK,’ Monnie told them, bringing the dish to the table. ‘Just caught on a bit.’

‘I like things caught on.’ Frank was in his place, knife and fork at the ready. ‘As a matter of fact, I like pretty well everything at the moment.’

And the girls agreed.

Twenty

Lynette managed only a week into her new job at the Talisman before she crossed swords with Mr Allan.

That might have been, she reflected afterwards, because she’d scarcely seen him after his polite welcome and had spent all her time being shown round by Mrs Atkinson and young Fionola MacLewis, Joanna Burnett having already departed. Quite pleasant that had been, for though there’d been a lot to learn, Mrs Atkinson had turned out to be a good teacher and Fionola much more efficient than Lynette had expected.

‘But how old is Fionola?’ Lynette had felt constrained to ask Mrs Atkinson in private, who had smiled and answered that she was nineteen.

‘Nineteen? I thought she might only be seventeen.’

‘No, no, she’d have to be older than that to take charge when you’re not here. Don’t forget you spell each other for evening duty and weekends.’

‘She’s a beautiful girl.’

‘She is, and that could have caused trouble if we’d had a lot of young men as guests, but luckily, most of our clientele are a little on the elderly side. This isn’t a hotel for the active, more for folk wanting a nice relaxed holiday.’

So, those two young men the Foresters had met on their first bus trip to Conair weren’t the usual types for the Talisman, a fact which was certainly borne out by the guests Lynette saw in her first week at work. Retired, well to do, not too sprightly, but fit enough to sit in the lounge or conservatory, and enjoy excellent meals in the dining room. Maybe take short walks to the shore, or drives out to admire the scenery, but as different from the young folk at the hostel as it was possible to be.

Ah well, no one could stay young for ever, but Lynette couldn’t help feeling a little oppressed from time to time, by the atmosphere of comfort and effortlessness that hung over the whole hotel. Apart from the reception desk, and behind the scenes, where the young staff worked flat out to provide all the lovely comfort.

It soon became apparent to Lynette that the place she liked best in the hotel was the kitchen. Buzzing with vitality, everything zipping along to a certain goal and coming together with efficiency and confidence, it was exactly where she could feel at home. Just as the staff there were her sort of people. Young, friendly, hard working and full of fun, she guessed at once that they took their tone from the top and the top was a lanky young man with carroty hair and a good-natured, freckled face. Scott Crosbie was his name, Mrs Atkinson told her, when she introduced him.