Page 124 of A Secret Scottish Escape

It hadn’t meant anything. Well, at least for Rafe it hadn’t.

I decorated my face with an indifferent smile, or at least what I hoped was a convincing impression of one. “I’ve put all that behind me.”

Faith’s lips curled up at one side. “Uh-huh.”

I pushed one of the pens lying on her desk around for something to do. A large part of me secretly wished I wasn’t having to play Rafe’s music on opening night. As I said it to myself, I cringed. It sounded so childish, but having to sit there and listen to him singing his beautiful lyrics wasn’t going to be easy.

I would keep myself busy, I decided. There would be a lot to keep on top of and Dad’s band were playing their set first.

“Dad’s got another date with Molly tonight,” I said, changing the direction of our conversation. “He’s like a jittery seventeen-year-old, bless him.”

“You like her?”

“She’s lovely. Molly is exactly what Dad needs, after being married to the Loch Harris equivalent of the Wicked Witch.”

Danielle changed the music in the tourist office from a soothing Celtic panpipes number to a rigorous Virginian reel.

I buried a smile as Faith rolled her eyes up to the spotlights dotted around the ceiling. “Is your mum coming to the opening?”

I widened my grey eyes in horror. “I bloody well hope not. You didn’t send her an invite, did you?

Faith pulled a condescending look. “As if. I know what a prolonged and painful death you would inflict on me if I had.”

She beamed as she added, “Greg said he would bring Sam along for a little while to the opening, until his boredom threshold kicks in. Then his grandparents said they would take him.”

The bell of the tourist office door tinkled and an elderly couple wandered in.

“I think Tina will invite herself anyway,” I said. “You can bet that local fiend of hers has been keeping her informed of developments.”

“You said fiend. Did you mean friend?”

“No, I didn’t. I knew exactly what I meant.”

Faith laughed. “Maybe it would be a good thing if Tina does show up.” She wriggled her eyebrows. “She’ll not only see what you’ve achieved with The Conch Club, but also that she wasn’t able to destroy your relationship with Harry. Or Ed, for that matter.”

Maybe Faith had a point. I hadn’t thought of it like that.

Our heads swung round in unison as the door swung open again, bringing with it this time a murmuring cluster of student types. They were decked out in crackly waterproofs.

“We’re definitely busier than we were,” Faith said with satisfaction. She pointed one finger at me. “And that’s down to you.”

I blushed and began to protest, but Faith was having none of it. “Ever since we started promoting The Conch Club, Loch Harris has begun to show signs of life again.”

I planted a kiss on her cheek, waved goodbye to Danielle and headed for the door.

“Don’t underestimate what you’ve achieved, OK?” Faith called with affection at my retreating back.

I turned and mouthed “Thanks,” before heading off across the town square. Sure enough, there did appear to be more people mingling around as of late.

Tourists were exclaiming at the shop windows that boasted everything from Harris tartan to decorated cupcakes and hiking equipment.

Trainers, boat shoes, and walking boots were slapping over the cobbles and snaking their way down the network of lanes, past the assorted tourist accommodation, bevelled windows, and hanging baskets that were clotted with heather. It was a gratifying sight.

I set off away from the main street, towards the country lane that took me home. I was glad now that I hadn’t brought my car. The walk back would clear my mind and allow me to run through my checklist.

I reminded myself to give the coffee-machine hire company a ring to confirm details of the lease I had arranged with them. I also wanted to check that the coasters I’d ordered from an Edinburgh artist would arrive on Thursday as agreed. I’d opted for a white and gold conch design, with a sturdy cork reverse. I thought they would look so pretty on each table.

As I walked along, I realised my bruising was getting better. There was only an odd, dull ache in my bottom now when I moved. Dad had been livid when I’d told him on Saturday morning about my near miss at Coorie Cottage, but I’d managed to distract him with talk of Molly and he grudgingly agreed to forgive me.