Page 80 of A Secret Scottish Escape

There was then a bit of a commotion erupting down the line as Danielle began pestering Faith about there being too few maps detailing the local woodland walks. “I only put out a new batch the other day,” I heard her moan, “and yet there’s only two left now and look at the state of them! They’re all bloody crumpled!”

I could detect frustration in Faith’s disembodied voice. “Sorry about this, Layla.” She let out a ragged sigh. “Look, Danielle, we can’t electronically tag every single guidebook, map, and leaflet in here…”

“Would it be easier if I popped by?” I suggested, getting to my feet and brushing down my jeans.

“That’s probably best.”

I dashed past Dad and Molly and snatched up my bag from inside the doorway. I fetched my keys from the inside pocket and jangled them round one finger. I couldn’t wait to tell Faith about the DNA results. “I’ve just got to drop by the tourist office and see Faith for a few moments. I won’t be long.”

The two of them were oblivious. Molly was laughing at something Dad had said.

“That’s fine, darling,” said Dad distractedly. “You take your time.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

I parked close to where canvas draped stalls were being set up for the monthly farmers’ market and headed across the sunlit square towards the tourist office.

It shone bright white in the July sunshine, its floor-to-ceiling windows displaying token Loch Harris-embossed gifts.

I was about to go in when my phone started ringing in the bottom of my bag. I paused and plucked it out. I didn’t recognise the mobile number glowing on the screen.

My jaw dropped when I realised Greg McBride was talking to me.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he apologised, “but I’ve been thinking so much about what you said to me a few weeks ago, and as for Faith … well, she’s on my mind all the time.”

I glanced around and waved at Faith through the tourist office window. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

I could hear Greg gulping. “Yes, it does. I’m going to try and persuade her to give us another go.”

My stomach pirouetted in sympathy for him. “So what’s the plan?”

“We – as in Sam and I – are going to head down to the tourist office now. No point in delaying. I’ve farted around for long enough.”

“So has she,” I answered. “I’m actually just going into the tourist office to see Faith now.”

“You’re kidding! Right, do you think you could hang on a bit longer then?” asked Greg in a pleading tone. “I might need some back up.”

I knew Faith would want to drown me as a witch after all this, but I found myself agreeing. After all, I had been the one to instigate this turn of events. “What made you change your mind, Greg?”

I could almost hear a nervous smile playing on his lips. “You did. I’ve been mulling over what you said about Faith’s fear of commitment and the fact that Sam and I are a team.”

He let out a short laugh. “It’s up to me and my boy to let her see we’re worth taking a chance on.”

A lump collected in my throat. “Well, she’s a very lucky lady.”

Greg ended the call by saying that he and Sam were almost ready and they could be there within twenty minutes.

I set my shoulders and tried not to look guilty as I went in, rattling the little doorbell.

The tourist office was quiet. Faith was standing behind the counter, fiddling with the collar of her lacy blouse while a Nordic couple shuffled around her carefully organised display.

“Not busy then?” I asked, indicating the stony atmosphere. Only the sound of a lilting fiddle from their concealed speakers broke the peace.

Probably a good thing if Greg was planning on some big gesture.

“I’ve seen more life at the Women’s Institute Christmas party,” grunted Faith. “The sooner you get that nightclub of yours up and running the better.”

“It’s not a nightclub,” I sniffed. “It’s a music venue.”