Wildflower Bay (30 page)

‘Oh, Dad.’ Isla peered into the bag, seeing he’d stuffed it full of meals for one and packets of her favourite sweets and their shared favourite, ginger ale. ‘Actually,
I’ve discovered there’s some amazing shops here, and places that sell stuff so fresh it’s straight off the farm, but –’ she pulled out a packet of Percy Pig sweets,
tearing them open – ‘these are gorgeous. Want one?’

He shook his head, patting his stomach. Isla looked at him properly, realizing as she did that he’d lost even more weight. He looked great, better than she’d ever seen him –
much more like her old dad that she remembered from the years when her mum was still alive.

‘Nope, I’m watching the calories.’

‘I’m amazed.’ Isla shook her head as they sat down on the sofa. ‘All those years, I’ve been nagging you to stop eating biscuits, and as soon as I go
away—’

‘Aye, well, I decided it was time to make a few changes.’ He looked a bit uncomfortable, reaching into his pocket for his phone. ‘In fact . . .’

Oh God
, Isla thought.
Please don’t be moving to Australia to start a new life, or something like that.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at his phone screen. ‘The thing is –’

He handed the phone across to Isla. There was a photograph of a smiling middle-aged woman with kind eyes. She was half-kneeling, dressed in outdoorsy clothes, hugging a huge black German
Shepherd dog.

‘That’s – well, she’s – I met someone.’

Isla looked down at the picture and back up at her embarrassed-looking father, who looked desperate for approval. She put the phone down on the sofa, reaching across and wrapping her arms around
him. ‘Dad, she looks lovely.’

He pulled back, looking at her directly. ‘You don’t mind?’

Isla looked at him, wrinkling her brow. What on earth did he mean?

‘I just – well, I didn’t ever want you to think I was replacing your mum. But when you came over here, I was lonely without you popping by after work and dragging me out for
walks on the canal.’ He laughed. ‘Anyway, I went into the cab office one day and Estelle – that’s her name – was new. She’s working on the control desk. We got
chatting, and—’

‘Mind?’ Isla squeezed him tightly again. ‘I’ve never seen you looking this well and happy, Dad. And you’ve been on your own far too long.’

‘Ah, darling,’ her dad said into her hair, ‘you’re such a sweetheart.’

‘I love you, Dad, and I want you to be happy.’

‘And that’s what I want for you. Now tell me, my Isla, how are you doing?’

Isla, who wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that, hid her face in his shoulder and thought.

Finn paused for a moment, his hand on the door of Ruth’s little stone cottage. The sun was beating down on his back, and he felt irrationally angry that the summer – which she loved
so much – had arrived at last, but too late. The lavender bushes by the front door were beginning to flower, and the smell made his head spin with memories.

‘You OK?’ Isla reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

‘Yeah.’ He shook himself briefly. ‘It’s a bit weird, I don’t know why—’

‘It’s all right. That’s why I’m here.’ She smiled at him gently. The sun had brought out freckles on her nose that made her look much younger, and somehow, more
vulnerable. She was hurting too – and with that reminder, he braced himself, and opened the door.

Nothing had changed inside. A shift in energy, perhaps – a sense of everything having stopped. But the house still smelt sweetly of Astral hand cream and the floral scent that Ruth had
worn, and in the sitting room the crochet blanket sat folded neatly on her armchair beside the remote control. The bed where she’d slipped away had been stripped, the mattress lying bare.
Annabel, Ruth’s neighbour, had wanted to do that (‘one last wee favour,’ she’d said, rubbing his arm in sympathy, ‘dinna worry yourself, I’ve got a spare key,
I’ll just pop in and sort it out for you’).

He found Isla standing quietly in the kitchen, hands on the side of the sink, staring out at the little walled garden where the roses were blooming prettily.

‘I wish she was here to see them,’ she said, turning to him.

‘Me too.’ It was strange, but being in the cottage seemed to be making him feel more at peace. He could almost sense Ruth there with them, smiling with approval that he’d taken
Isla along to help choose something for her to wear. When the funeral directors had asked if he had any thoughts about it, he’d looked blank. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would
want to change her clothes – but Ruth had always been well turned out. She wouldn’t want to make her way to wherever she was going dressed in a nightie and a quilted dressing gown. The
thought of it made him smile.

‘What’s funny?’ Isla looked at him with her head to one side.

‘Just imagining what she’d say if she was here. She’d be telling us to get a move on, and get the kettle on for a cup of tea, before she was too late to watch the lunchtime
news.’

Ruth’s cupboards were tidy and minimal – she hadn’t been a believer in keeping hold of stuff she didn’t need. Isla opened the wardrobe, and they chose something for Ruth
to wear.

‘Hang on.’ Isla paused, looking down at the dressing table. There was a little black and white cameo photograph of Finn’s grandfather sitting there. ‘Do you think we
should put this in with her?’

Finn picked it up, looking down at the picture. He hadn’t noticed before just how much he looked like his grandad, who had died from a heart attack the year Finn was born. Ruth had been on
her own from the age of forty-five, and never married again. He nodded, smiling at Isla. ‘Yes, I think she’d like that.’

Isla looked up at the painting on the wall, done by Ruth as a young girl. It was a posy of wildflowers tied up with a ribbon, which her father – Finn remembered being told the story as a
young boy – had framed for her as a surprise present. She’d kept it in her bedroom ever since.

‘I’d like to do one more thing,’ said Isla.

They left the house, and drove up through Kilmannan towards the funeral directors’. As they reached the park, Isla asked Finn if he’d pull over for a moment. She jumped out of the
Land Rover.

‘I’ll just be a moment.’

He watched as she ran across the park to the far side, where the oak trees stood. A few moments later she came running back with something in her hand. As she drew closer, Finn realized with a
smile what she was holding.

Isla climbed back into the car, cheeks flushed pink from running, her hair ruffled by the sea wind. In her hand was a posy of harebells, daisies, pink campion and the sweet peas that grew in a
wild tangle, caught up in the hedge that edged the park.

‘Wildflowers.’

It was a big funeral.

‘They always are, here,’ Kate, sitting at a table with a glass of sparkling water, explained to Isla – one island outsider to another. ‘They do this sort of thing in
style. Everyone knows everyone here, and they like to give them a good send-off.’

It was definitely true in Ruth’s case. She’d been a much-loved member of the community, with friends of all ages who wanted to pay their respects.

Shona had arrived the day before the funeral. Finn, who had thrown himself into organizing everything – Isla suspected it was his method of avoiding the pain he was feeling – had
everything under control. He’d collected Shona from the airport and offered her the spare room in his cottage, but Shona, who had Finn’s blue eyes and the same smile, turned it down.
Perhaps wisely, Isla reflected, she’d chosen to give Finn some space, opting to stay up on the hill in Murdo Gilfillan’s hotel.

‘She’s lost her mum, remember,’ Isla had said to Finn, quietly. It had taken a moment before he’d taken in what she said, and really understood it. He still had his
– and a chance to rebuild the bridges. She hoped he would take the chance. Even after all this time, being around funerals reminded her of her own loss; made her think of how her dad had
coped for all these years. She was so glad he’d met Estelle.

‘That was a lovely ceremony. Ruth would have enjoyed it, do you no’ think?’

Isla smiled to herself, overhearing two elderly ladies chatting as they washed their hands in the loos of the hotel.

‘Aye. She would indeed.’ The taller of the two women turned to Isla, who was brushing her hair. ‘You’ll need to look after that laddie of hers.’

‘Aye, right enough,’ said the other lady, reaching into her handbag to find a lipstick. ‘Nice to see him settling down. I think we all thought Finn would be playing the field
forever.’

Isla, who’d heard the same line several times already, just nodded vaguely and smiled.

‘Oh, look at that,’ said Kate, raising her eyebrows to direct Isla’s gaze. Over beside the bar, Finn, who had been deep in conversation with Shona for over
half an hour, embraced her with a smile.

He looked more peaceful than she’d seen him in weeks. Roddy returned from the bar with a tray of drinks, setting it down on the table beside Isla, who had somehow been installed with
Finn’s closest friends.

‘Look, darling.’ Kate put a hand on Roddy’s knee.

‘About time, too,’ said Roddy, sounding exasperated. But his eyes were twinkling, and as he passed Isla a drink he toasted her, touching the edge of her glass and raising an eyebrow
in complicity. ‘That reunion’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?’

‘So, Isla –’ Kate turned back to her – ‘has Finn managed to persuade you that island life isn’t completely awful yet?’

Isla couldn’t help laughing. Roddy had told her how Kate had arrived in a whirlwind of chaos and fallen in love with the island, its people, the animals (‘Quite a lot of its whisky,
too,’ Finn had said, laughing), and embraced the place completely. She, on the other hand, was still suffering major shopping withdrawal symptoms, but . . .

‘He’s done a reasonably good job. But Jessie’s back now, so it’s time for me to head back home to Edinburgh, really . . .’ She heard her voice trail off. The truth
was that whilst she was fairly sure Shannon could take over the reins if, as looked likely, Jessie decided to take at least part-retirement – and Jinny was delighted to have not one, but two
jobs doing the thing she loved best – Isla herself had literally no idea what was going to happen next.

Her gardening leave was up, and all she had to show on her CV for the last two months’ work was a torn-out page from
Hello!
magazine.

‘Oh, hello,’ said Kate, straightening up in her chair. Finn was making his way across the room, Shona by his side.

She was fair, tanned from years in the Australian sun, and had picked up a slight accent. Finn made the introductions: ‘This is Roddy, who you’ll remember, and his wife Kate . .
.’ He turned to Isla, who stood up awkwardly, holding out a hand. ‘And this is my –’ Finn stumbled over his words. Isla felt her heart thud suddenly against her chest. Kate
gave Roddy a very definite Look.

‘ – This is my friend Isla. She’s been amazing, and Ma absolutely adored her.’

Isla, her hand still half-extended, was surprised when Shona leaned forward, embracing her in a warm hug.

‘Isla, darling.’ Shona took her arms, pushing her back for a moment to get a good look at her. ‘Mum just
loved
you. She said you were a breath of fresh air.’

Isla smiled back at Shona, whose blue eyes, an exact match for Finn’s, sparkled back brightly at her, tears beginning to spill over.

‘She just loved you, and I have to hug you again,’ Shona squeezed her tightly, ‘for being there for her. Oh, I just wish she could have held on an extra few weeks until I was
due to come over.’

Shona pulled up a stool beside Isla, Roddy handed her a drink, and they sat chatting until Shona was called away to speak to another group of relatives.

It seemed to Isla that more people in the family were aware of the secret than Finn had at first let on. She’d heard several comments about rebuilding bridges and making the best of
things, and it being what Ruth would have wanted.

‘Well, you were a bit of a hit,’ Finn teased her. ‘Careful, or she’ll be taking you back off to Australia in her suitcase.’

‘She’s lovely, isn’t she?’ Isla hadn’t quite known what to expect – but she could almost hear Ruth laughing, that sing-song island voice saying, ‘What
would you expect of a daughter of mine?’

‘I feel a bit of an idiot for making it all into such a big deal,’ Finn admitted, shaking his head ruefully.

‘It’s done now, anyway.’ Isla waved at a merry-looking Shannon and Jinny, who were hurrying past to the loos together, arm in arm. They both looked slightly unsteady on their
feet, having taken advantage of the free drinks on offer. The guests were starting to drift off now, everyone having paid their respects. Shona had disappeared into a huddle of old school friends
and had told Finn she’d catch up with him in the morning, blowing Isla a kiss across the room.

‘Finn, Isla – we’re going to head off now. Kate’s knackered.’

Kate, who had blossomed and couldn’t disguise the fact that she was pregnant any longer, was standing by the table, looking pale and worn out. ‘Do you want to come back to the
house?’ She smiled, taking a sip from her water bottle. ‘I’ll be fine once I can get these clothes off and put on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt. Everything I wear is so
blooming uncomfortable at the moment.’

Finn thanked her, but shook his head. ‘You two get off. I think I’m going to take a walk down on the beach. Isla – d’you fancy it?’

It was a beautiful evening. They walked along the promenade and past Ruth’s cottage. Her neighbour had just arrived home and was sitting outside in the warmth of the sun,
still dressed in her black dress, feet in thick black tights slipped out of her fancy shoes and back in slippers.

‘It’s a shame that the person who’d most enjoy a funeral isn’t there to take part, isn’t it?’

Isla looked at Finn sideways.

‘Ma would have loved today,’ he continued. ‘All her family, all her friends – everyone she loved all gathered together,
and
a nice buffet meal and a couple of
glasses of sherry.’