Wildflower Bay (28 page)

‘Back so soon?’

The sound of the television greeted Finn as he stepped into Ruth’s cottage. Hamish ran down the hall to meet him, hoping for more food. ‘You’ve just had biscuits and cheese,
you greedy bugger,’ said Finn, leaning down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. He lifted his head to address Ruth, his tone deliberately casual: ‘Yeah – just thought
I’d check you didn’t need anything before I headed back.’

‘Not at all,’ came her sing-song island accent through the gap in the sitting-room door.

‘Not even a quick cup of tea?’ Knowing the answer, he’d begun filling the kettle already.

‘Here you are.’

Ruth was sitting, quite happily, on her armchair. A crochet blanket, one of many she’d made over the years, was tucked around her knees. She had the television remote control to one side,
and her walking stick balanced ready by the fireplace on the other. One bar of the electric fire was on, despite it being midsummer.

‘It’s nippy in here this evening,’ she said by way of explanation, catching him looking.

He sat down, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. It felt quite warm to him, but he wasn’t eighty, he supposed.

‘Ma.’

‘Mm-hmm.’ She looked at him expectantly, and turned down the volume of the quiz show she’d been watching.

Finn stood up and picked up the photograph of himself and Shona by the seaside. He turned it over in his hands, examining the frame, before replacing it on the mantelpiece.

‘Look, I’ve been thinking. Isla lost her mum, and she loves spending time with you.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been thinking.’ He was sounding like a stuck record.

Ruth sat waiting, her face wise and patient as ever. It crossed his mind that at her age, she didn’t really mind waiting for things. But she’d been waiting far too long for this,
really.

‘I want to try and sort things out with Shona when she comes over.’

‘Well, that is good news.’

‘I hope so.’ He swallowed, closing his eyes. The clock ticked on the mantelpiece, and the low murmur of the quiz show carried on in the background. For a moment he looked again at
the picture of Shona, who’d been faced with an impossible decision years ago, when a teenage pregnancy would have scandalized the island. She’d had to make some pretty grown-up
decisions, and live with them.

‘I want her to know I’m not angry at her any more.’ Saying the words, he realized he had no idea why he’d harboured such an irrational grudge for so long. He had not only
Ruth, his ma, who’d brought him up, loved him, supported him – but Shona, who’d stepped aside and made a difficult choice that she’d stuck by until they felt he was mature
enough to take it on board. And then he’d thrown it back in her face, rejecting her. That must have hurt badly – and yet Shona was still reaching out. It was time for him to stop acting
like an overgrown teenager and face up to his past.

‘Well?’ Ruth looked at Isla expectantly.

‘Are you sure it’s not too cold for you?’ Isla cast a glance at the sky, where plum-coloured clouds hung threateningly overhead. This shocker of a summer was certainly keeping
the tourists away: the island was practically deserted, and Bruno’s cafe, usually packed with day trippers, had been almost empty earlier.

‘I’m waterproof. And Doctor Lewis said a walk every day is good for the circulation. As long as you don’t mind slowing those long legs down to my pace.’

‘I’m happy to stroll.’ Isla gave her a nod of agreement, and they continued down the path towards the woods.

They walked along in silence for a while, the air thrumming with the expectation of rain. Birds were gathering in the trees, and beyond the metal railings that flanked the woodland path Ruth
could see cows gathering beneath the sheltering branches of a spreading oak. There was a storm coming, right enough, but there was something about this weather she’d always loved.

Despite a good bit of tactful probing over cups of tea, Ruth had managed to extract not one piece of information about what had happened at Isla’s much-anticipated school reunion.

‘You know . . .’ She paused for a moment, leaning on her stick. A good night’s rest had helped – and this morning, strangely enough, she’d slept until eight –
but she was puffed out, and her legs were aching, the skin stretched taut with water retention. ‘I used to come along here as a girl when I was courting. I bet the young ones still
do.’

‘I didn’t do anything like that as a teenager,’ Isla admitted. Ah, that was more like it, thought Ruth. There was something about walking and talking that brought people out of
themselves – especially girls like Isla, who were so private.

‘Too busy with your books?’

‘Hardly.’ Isla gave a hollow laugh. ‘No, I was the most unpopular girl in school. Wrong clothes, wrong hair, wrong everything.’

‘Och, you must’ve had a few friends? You’re such a lovely girl.’

Isla pulled a face.

School in Ruth’s day had been very different. She’d been top of her mixed class from the age of eleven, desperate to go off to the teacher training college, but her family
hadn’t had the money to send her. Instead she’d got a job working at the local chemist, where she’d focused her brain on learning everything there was to know, trying not to envy
her school friend Ethel, who was sent off to Glasgow and came back to teach the children in the little island school a few years later. When she’d been married, though, she’d given it
all up in favour of staying at home and keeping house.

Ruth rather envied Isla, with her determination and her ambition. If she’d been thirty in this day and age, she liked to think she’d have been just as driven. She sneaked a glance at
Isla, who was walking alone, chin tipped up as always, that slightly guarded expression on her face. It was a long time since the schooldays that had left such a mark – Ruth privately
wondered if raking over old coals by going all the way to Edinburgh for a reunion had been a good idea. But it wasn’t her place to say anything, so she’d just listened as Isla had
explained her plans to go; and now she was biding her time, waiting to find out what had gone on.

‘Ouch!’ Isla bent down to untangle a bramble cable that had wrapped itself around her shoe. She looked up with the first smile Ruth had seen that day. ‘Well,’ Isla
conceded, ‘it’s been lovely getting back in touch with Helen and Amira.’

‘Now that sounds very nice.’ Ruth looked at Isla sideways. It was like getting blood from a stone with this one. But she was good for Finn – he’d always been one to have
female friends hanging about, but Isla was different. Ruth approved of her. She’d make a good – ah, there was no point in going down that road. The two of them would need their heads
banging together first, and she was too old for that nonsense.

There was a crack of thunder, and the first drops of rain splattered through the trees. Ruth had known this was likely to happen, which was partly why she’d suggested this route – it
was sheltered, and it was only a ten-minute stroll from home. Taking Isla by the arm, Ruth led her towards the little stone shelter that stood in the middle of a clearing, surrounded on all sides
by beech trees. Inside was the same stone bench she’d sat on a hundred times, from childhood adventures through teenage courting to times when she’d had an argument with George and
stormed out in temper early in their marriage, sitting out waiting for him to come and find her – and times when she’d cried until there were no tears left. These stone walls were held
together with secrets.

‘Sit yourself down there.’

‘Are we safe out here? What if there’s lightning?’ Isla frowned up at the sky through the canopy of dripping leaves.

‘This place isn’t going anywhere. I’ve sat out here in the rain more times than you’ve had hot dinners.’

‘I didn’t think anyone actually said that any more.’ ‘Neither did I.’ Ruth looked at Isla, laughing.

She reached into her handbag, watching with delight as Isla’s eyes popped in surprise.

‘I was a Girl Guide, I’ll have you know. Prepared for any occasion.’ Unscrewing the lid of the silver hip flask she’d stashed earlier, she handed it to Isla, who took a
cautious mouthful.

‘Sherry?’

‘I know, if I was a true Scot it’d be whisky, but I can’t stand the stuff. It’ll warm you up soon enough, anyway.’

Isla handed it back and Ruth took a sip herself before passing it back to Isla.

‘Well, I’ve tried not to be nosy, and I wasn’t going to pry in front of Finn. So what happened? Did you see the dreamboat who made your life hell all those years
ago?’

Isla burst out laughing, surprising both Ruth and a couple of wood pigeons who were nestling overhead. They whirled upwards in a flutter of indignation.

‘He’s a balding plumber with three children who lives in East Kilbride.’

‘Divorced?’

‘Not even slightly.’ Isla giggled. ‘But he tried to persuade me to go outside with him for old times’ sake.’

Ruth felt her eyebrows shoot upwards. ‘And did you?’

‘No, I did not,’ Isla recoiled with indignation. ‘I was perfectly nice, I made polite conversation, I listened to all the girls who spent years making my life hell asking for
hair advice, and telling me how impressed they were with my career; and then I left.’

‘So you didn’t get the big film-star moment, after all that?’

‘No.’ Isla reached across, taking the hip flask from Ruth’s hands silently. She took another swig, screwing the lid on tightly before looking up, her eyes dark and
thoughtful.

‘No,’ she sighed, ‘and I can’t quite believe I spent all those years waiting to prove a point to the people they used to be. It didn’t occur to me that they’d
have moved on.’

‘As you had,’ Ruth reminded her, gently. She reached across, putting a hand on Isla’s knee, feeling how thin she was beneath the expensive material of her trousers. She’d
been living for too long on her nerves. The girl needed a hot bath, a decent meal, and some mothering.

‘I don’t think I had,’ admitted Isla. ‘Anyway, I realized that it was time to get a bit of a grip on myself and sort my life out – work out what I want for me, not
for anyone else.’

‘That sounds like the most sensible thing I’ve heard all day.’ Ruth looked up at the sky. ‘So what’s next?’

Isla looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve spoken to Jessie – she’s back over next week, for a couple of days – about how well Shannon and Jinny are doing.’

‘You’ve done a good job with those two.’

‘I haven’t done much,’ Isla said modestly. ‘But I’m hoping Jessie doesn’t think I’ve lost the plot completely with the changes we’ve made.
I’d like to see Shannon being given a chance to run the show a bit.’

‘And what about you?’

Isla gave a slight shake of her head. She picked at a leaf, tearing away the greenery until she was left with a handful of shreds that she shook onto the ground below their feet.

‘I don’t quite know.’

Ruth looked at her shrewdly. ‘Ah, your time on the island’s had a bit more of an effect on you than you expected, hasn’t it?’

‘Well,’ Isla leaned sideways, affectionately, linking her arm through Ruth’s, ‘making friends with you has been the best bit.’

Ruth felt herself beaming with happiness. She gave Isla’s arm a squeeze of affection. ‘The feeling, my dear girl, is completely mutual. You know, with Shona on the other side of the
world I missed out on having a daughter to spend time with. I’ve treasured our time together.’

Isla smiled back at her. ‘I’d have liked to meet Shona.’

‘Och, I’m certain she’d love you. And you’d certainly smooth the waters when Finn meets up with her after all this time. Maybe you could take a wee visit
through?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Isla.

‘Well, I don’t want you being a stranger when Jessie gets back. I think, as much as Auchenmor needs you, you need time on this little island.’

Ruth looked up at the sky through the trees. The darkness had lifted as they’d chatted, and there were a few streaks of pale blue showing now.

‘I think that’s the worst of it over now. Shall we make our way back?’ She turned to Isla and smiled conspiratorially, lowering her voice slightly. ‘I don’t think
Doctor Lewis needs to know we spent half our walk sitting on our backsides, do you?’

Ruth smiled to herself as she watched Isla make her way down the path. She wasn’t going to say a word to Finn and risk jinxing herself, but she hoped that their
friendship was a bit different. Finn had a lot of good friends on the island, but Ruth liked Isla most of all.

She pottered around the kitchen, making herself tea, keeping an eye on the time. Shona had promised to give her a ring on Skype when she got up, to make some arrangements for her trip. She was
so glad that Finn was open to the idea of building bridges with Shona. She wasn’t going to get Shona’s hopes up too much when they spoke, but it would be a relief for Shona to know that
she’d be in for a far warmer reception when she got here this time. And it had lightened Finn, too. He had a definite spring in his step. Or maybe, Ruth thought, that was just the effect Isla
was having.

He’d popped in for a surprise flying visit on the way to check on something up at the estate earlier, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘What was that for?’ she’d
asked, laughing.

‘Because I can,’ he’d smiled, heading back down the path to the Land Rover. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’

Hamish was waiting on the doorstep, prowling to be let in. He hopped up onto the window ledge beside the front door as Finn pushed down the handle, realizing as he did so that
it was locked. Instinctively, he checked the time. He’d promised to get Ruth to the doctor for her appointment at ten – why the hell had she gone without him? Hamish miaowed, crossly,
jumping up at his arm, rubbing himself against Finn.

‘Hang on, hang on.’ Where the bloody hell had he left his key? He hadn’t used it in God knew how long – the house was always open. Why on earth had Ruth locked the front
door?

Finn turned back to the car. Where were the spare keys? The Land Rover was a complete tip, as ever. Rummaging through the glove compartment, he heard a familiar jingle and pulled them out.