Atholl couldn’t help letting his concern show.
‘Don’t frown. Easter weekend’s ages away. I’ll have this all in hand in a week or so,’ she told him, knowing this was a lie. She hadn’t even begun the search for a bouncy castle, and where would she find a coconut shy and other traditional fairground attractions in the dead of winter in the Scottish Highlands?
Atholl peered past her at the laptop screen. ‘That doesnae look like festival organisin’ to me. Should I be worried?’
‘What? Oh! No,’ Beatrice laughed.
‘Top ten tips to reignite long-term relationship passion,’ he read aloud. ‘Can you still rock his socks at sixty?’ Atholl was smiling by now too.
‘Just a little side line I’ve got going,’ Beatrice said, relaxing now she wasn’t under the spotlight of Atholl’s concern.
‘A side line in what, exactly? I shudder to think.’
‘In helping the Firths, of course.’
‘Nope, none the wiser, yet again.’
‘Well, you know how I’ve always had a… passing interest in dating shows, and body language, and how people meet and fall in love, all that kind of thing.’
‘Aye, I do, you’ve made me watch that many programmes about celebrity dinner dates, getting married to a stranger, love islands and a’ that.’
‘Come on, you’ve enjoyed them too.’
Atholl had to admit he had, but more so because he loved lying on the sofa with Beatrice curled up close to him where he could watch her eyes gleaming at the sight of these hapless, hopeful people navigating their way towards love, if they were lucky. He told her as much now, and it made her smile again.
‘Well then, you’ll know how much I want to help Ruth Firth, and Mark too, of course, even though he is a pain in the arse.’
‘That’s no’ very nice, Beattie. Even if it is true.’
Beatrice shrugged and showed him the handwritten research notes she’d been making in her jotter which he held closer, raising his eyebrows and pulling an amused, impressed face as he read. ‘I reckon that ought to work,’ he said, and Beatrice’s smile grew even more.
‘They’re here for ages yet. We’ve got loads of time to get their love affair rekindled.’
Atholl inhaled. ‘Beattie, I know you’re a braw matchmaker but that pair have been married twenty-five years and together far longer. You cannae meddle in something wi’ as much history as that.’
‘I’m not going to meddle. I’m just going to make a few helpful suggestions to get them on track again.’
Atholl looked again at Beatrice’s notes. ‘And if Ruth Firth tells you to mind your own business?’
Beatrice exhaled at the thought. ‘She won’t, will she? She’s so open and chatty, with me at least. Gene and her are getting along well during her cookery lessons too, and she’s not exactly shy. She’s definitely not happy, though, and neither’s her husband by the looks of things, not really.’
‘If you ask me, he’s got a piece on the side back home.’
‘What?’ Beatrice was aghast. ‘An affair? He couldn’t!’
‘He’s always on his phone, sneaking off with it, no matter the weather.’
Beatrice thought about it. It wasn’t often Atholl made assumptions about people, and he had good instincts, but she dismissed his idea. ‘Something in him looks more sad than sneaky. I just can’t imagine he’s getting his end away somewhere else.’
‘Well, just remember you’ve got to look after yourself as well as all these other folk you take under your wing.’
Beatrice agreed, but his words had sparked another little reminder. ‘Oh, and then there’s Nina and Mutt!’
‘What about them?’
‘They’re an interesting couple, don’t you think?’
‘They cannae stand one another.’
