Wildflower Bay (15 page)

‘So you’re going to march in there and show him what he’s been missing?’ Ruth chuckled at the prospect. Shame, really. She’d have made a good match for Finn.

Isla pulled an uncertain face. ‘Well, that was the idea when I sent a message agreeing to go – but I had drunk quite a lot of champagne at the time.’

‘Well, he’s going to get a surprise. You’re a bonny girl, Isla. And you’ve worked hard to get where you are.’

‘Thank you.’ The colour rose once again in Isla’s cheeks.

‘I don’t give out compliments unless I mean them, so you’re welcome.’ Ruth took another biscuit. Never mind what Doctor Lewis had said about restraint, she could worry
about that in the morning. ‘Anyway, I’m glad you came in for a wee cup of tea. It’s always nice to have a chat. And you must get a bit lonely, staying up there in the flat above
the salon.’

‘A bit,’ said Isla, sounding surprised at herself.

‘Well, I’m always here if you fancy a wee cup of tea and a chat.’ Ruth smiled at Isla, and she returned a smile of her own.

‘I’d like that.’

Back home, Isla unloaded her shopping. The cupboards – and the kitchen – were clean and serviceable now, but the place was completely soulless. It didn’t help
that it was in shade most of the time, the light catching the windows only in the middle of the day when she was at work. Maybe some flowers would help – back home she’d always filled
her bedroom, and the sitting room, with huge, vibrant vases full of anything beautiful that was in season. Rescuing Ruth meant she’d missed the florist – maybe tomorrow she’d
leave the girls in charge, pop out and have a look at what was on offer. In the meantime, though, she scrubbed out the two grubby-looking fake crystal vases she’d found in the cupboard under
the kitchen sink, and filled them with the supermarket chrysanthemums that had been the only thing available. She placed one vase on the windowsill, and the other on the little coffee table. It
gave the place an even more seventies feeling. All she needed now were some dodgy canapés and a kaftan.

With the shopping unpacked, she realized another evening of staring at the walls was going to send her mad. Even the thought of reading didn’t appeal. Grabbing her cardigan and wrapping a
thin scarf around her neck – the wind coming off the sea was strong, taking the warmth out of the evening sun – she set off for a wander around Kilmannan.

It was the strangest feeling to know that across the water right now – only an hour away – Glasgow was thronged with commuters, and the shops were still clamouring with people.

There was a little putting green next to the closed-up ice-cream stand. She’d gone there as a teenager with her dad – a sudden image of him, a sunhat on his head, face scarlet from
unexpectedly hot sunshine, flashed into her mind. She’d give him a ring when she got back to the flat, make sure he was eating properly and getting out for a walk, doing all the stuff the
doctor had ordered. He’d sent her a text that morning, telling her how proud he was of her for helping Jessie out. She wasn’t about to admit to him that the place was hell on earth, and
she was utterly alone and completely miserable in a way even she hadn’t expected.

The one set of traffic lights in town turned to red. Isla smiled despite herself as an old man sat obediently at the empty crossing in his tiny brown Vauxhall. When the lights turned to green
again, he drove off.

There was a rumble as the ferry engine started up, and she stood and watched as the final preparations were made and the boat got on its way. The sign at the harbour gates flashed up in bright
letters:

Isla sighed. The words in front of her were an inescapable reminder. She was trapped here with no means of escape – well, save breaking a bone and being airlifted off in the air ambulance,
which from what her Uncle Calum had said, was a pretty hairy way of making your way to the mainland.

The salon was empty of customers. Isla looked up at an unexpected knocking on the glass of the door.

Shannon, too, glanced up briefly from the computer. She gave the impression of working diligently, but Isla had already clocked her shopping for package holidays on a separate web page, flipping
the browser back to an ordering site for hairdressing supplies whenever anyone approached.
Not quickly enough
, Isla had thought. Years of working alongside some of the wiliest girls and boys
in the business had taught her every trick in the book. Isla let it slide. Shannon had been making a real effort lately, taking in everything she was told. Both she and Jinny were keen to learn
more, rather than spend their days doing the same shampoo and sets over and over again.

Standing behind the glass door, hair plaited into row upon row of tiny, neat braids, was Lily. And thankfully – Isla cast a glance over Lily’s shoulder – no sign of Lucifer the
demon offspring.

‘Lily, hello.’ Isla stepped out of the salon, where Lily was standing, one foot twisted round the back of her other leg, her expression anxious.

‘I absolutely don’t want to come in,’ she said, unnecessarily. ‘But I just wanted to give you these –’ she handed Isla a beautiful hand-tied posy of
wildflowers and foliage – ‘as an apology for bringing our little visitors to the salon.’

Isla, as ever, had to resist the urge to start scratching her head at the merest mention of head lice. ‘Thanks. You really didn’t have to. It’s all part of the job.’

‘Yes, but you were
so
lovely, and it was just wonderful to find somewhere where Lucien was able to express himself
freely
.’

Isla tried to make a sound expressing agreement, but it came out as a muffled snort. Lily appeared not to notice.

‘Anyway, we’ve used the special comb, and I’ve treated both of us with tea tree oil and an infusion of lavender and lemon balm.’ She indicated the flowers. ‘These
are rosemary and balsam for cleansing the room aura, and lavender, which is a natural disinfectant, and hawthorn has amazing powers, and I’ve blessed them with a healing spell for positivity
and good vibes.’

‘Right.’ Isla looked at the flowers, nonplussed. She sniffed them, recoiling in surprise at the pungent odour of garlic.

‘Wild garlic,’ said Lily, chirpily. ‘
Such
a powerful cleansing herb. I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that there’s some stuck energy in the salon . .
.’ She shook her head, pursing her lips thoughtfully, choosing her words. ‘Well, it needs a little help. This ought to do the trick. Oh!’ Her face lit up, and she pulled a bundle
of dried leaves out of her bag. ‘Let me do a smudging ceremony to clear the air!’

A hair salon stinking of garlic and sage was definitely going to create an atmosphere, thought Isla, but maybe not quite the sort Lily was thinking of. She smiled through tight lips, nodding
politely and stepping back towards the door. ‘Thanks so much, these look just beautiful.’ That was polite enough. And she didn’t say they smelt it – which, frankly, they
didn’t. The longer Isla held them, the stronger the rank raw garlic scent became.

‘Wonderful. Now, I’m having one of our earth healing sessions tomorrow evening at the Clootie Well, if you’d like to join us? I know you’re new here, and it can be
challenging making real heart connections. The ceremony will help you to open your heart chakra.’

Isla grasped at straws quickly. ‘Oh, I’d love to,’ she lied, ‘but I’m afraid I’m taking the girls from the salon out tomorrow night.’

Jinny, who, with her usual nosiness, had poked her head round the door behind Isla, gave an excited squeak. ‘You are?’

Isla turned round. She was about to open her mouth to stop Jinny giving the game away, but Jinny had already darted back inside and could be seen hopping from foot to foot, clearly explaining to
a dubious-looking Shannon, who was very likely to come out and give the game away.

‘Yes,’ Isla continued as Shannon made her way towards the door. Isla raised her voice a little, enunciating the words clearly enough for them to be heard inside. ‘Yes, I
thought it would be nice to take the girls for a drink and a bite to eat to say thank you for making me so welcome.’

Shannon’s face was a picture of confusion. She stepped backwards towards the computer, eyebrows furrowed, shaking her head. Isla, who had mastered the art of lip-reading years back –
because making conversation with clients over the sound of a hairdryer was virtually impossible, and they liked to carry on talking all the way through their appointments – saw Shannon
forming the words, ‘Aye, you’re not imagining things for once.’ She hid a smile as Jinny gave her a shove in retaliation.

‘Well, if you won’t come tomorrow night, I would very much appreciate your expertise sometime.’

‘I think I’m going to be quite busy, keeping this place going single-handed with my aunt away,’ Isla began. But Lily was determined.

‘Well, yes, but you have two and a half days when the salon is closed, and –’ she lowered her voice again – ‘there’s not that much to do here, between you and
me. I mean, obviously silence and alone time are vital for personal growth, but so is spending time in nature. And we have so
much
of nature up at Meadowview House.’

‘That would be very nice,’ said Isla, politely. She had to get away soon, or she’d be offering to take Jinny and Shannon on an eight-week holiday just to get away from
Lily.

‘Excellent.’ Lily peered round Isla at the opening hours listed on the salon door. ‘Shall we say next Sunday? Midday?’

Isla opened her mouth, then closed it again. She nodded, defeated. If she tried to say no, Lily would probably suggest she had some issues coming up with resistance and cast some sort of spell
on her at midnight on the moors. It seemed easier to just give in. Maybe Lily would leave her alone after that – or perhaps her attention could be diverted on to Jinny, who definitely had
latent hippy tendencies, despite her protests. Shannon had been teasing her just the other day about the crystal necklace she’d tied around her neck.

‘Marvellous,’ Lily beamed, holding her hand to her heart with her eyes closed before opening them again, waving her hand forwards as if her heart was blowing a kiss. The woman was
quite mad. ‘Thank Goddess. We’re up at dawn, so any time after that on Sunday will be perfect. Of course, if you feel called to join us before dawn, that’s absolutely fine
too.’

Oh, help
, thought Isla, stepping back into the salon.

Back at home, Isla sat down on the sofa with a coffee. She had absolutely nothing planned, there was a brand new book downloaded on her Kindle, and the rain was pouring in a
comfortingly autumnal manner down the windows. She snuggled down under the crochet blanket her aunt had left her.

The phone buzzed as a Facebook notification flashed up on the screen. The mobile phone reception might be dodgy when you went to the far side of the village, but thankfully here in the middle of
Kilmannan it was just fine. The salon’s broadband connection (mainly used by Shannon and Jinny to keep up to date with the gossip pages of the tabloid newspapers) meant Isla felt a bit less
isolated – and Helen’s cheerful messages were something she looked forward to each day. It had been lovely getting back in touch after all this time.

Not long to go. You still all set? I spoke to Amira the other day

– bumped into her at big Tesco. She’s coming if we’re coming.

Safety in numbers . . .

Isla looked at the screen and frowned. There was a tiny, not very kind voice in her head that kept naggingly pointing out that if she turned up for the school reunion with Helen, Amira and
– she knew what was coming next, she was just waiting to discover that he’d been unearthed from wherever he’d disappeared off to when they all scattered in relief on the day they
got their final exam results – Costas, there was a danger that Isla’s carefully constructed, look-at-my-perfect-existence image was in danger of falling apart. They’d all end up
huddled together at the geeky table in one corner whilst the popular gang held court.

Isla typed in a reply:

God, what was she thinking? It was lovely to have a friend back in her life. If that meant they would be sitting in the geek corner, so be it.

‘Och come
on
, make a night of it.’

Jinny hopped from foot to foot as she shoved the broom back into the cleaning cupboard. She pushed the door shut, still jigging back and forth to the tunes in her head that kept her running on a
perpetual motor, and gave Isla her very best persuading face: begging eyes through a shaggy fringe.

‘Shannon, can you put this appointment in the book for now, and transfer it over once I’ve finished this?’

Isla carried on typing in the last of the stock orders. With Jessie gone, she’d made the executive decision to stop using the harsh products from the bottom of the range – and,
knowing she’d have to justify the expense, had encouraged Shannon to start bringing in some of the younger girls from town who normally escaped to Glasgow when they wanted a haircut. The
salon had been fully booked all of Thursday, and Friday and Saturday looked like they were going to be chaotic, with girls from town desperate to get in and look their best for the disco in the old
Pavilion dance hall that was taking place.

‘I’m going to order an extra box of that intensive conditioning treatment,’ Isla said, tapping the surface of the desk with a nail, thinking aloud.