Page 22 of A Scottish Highland Surprise

I blew out a cloud of air, still struggling to speak. “That’s what people keep telling me.” I took another gulp of tea. “It’s just the reality of running a business here in Briar Glen.” I paused. “I don’t suppose you could recommend a good accountant?”

“Of course,” beamed Mrs Cotter. “I’ll give you the details of the local chap I used. His name is Craig Adler and he’s very professional, but very approachable too. He has been my accountant for this place ever since I started.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, a kernel of relief and – dare I say it – optimism promising to bud. “That would be great.”

” See?” cajoled Mrs Cotter. “Things are slowly starting to fall into place already. Once we finish our tea, I’ll take you on a little guided tour. This place is as big as a minute, but it’s like a Tardis at the back, so plenty of storage facility.”

Her plucked brows gathered. “Your gran was adamant she wanted this shop. I told her the old barber’s was going to go up for sale as well, but she wasn’t interested.” She tutted in sympathy. “Poor Keith McLeod and his arthritis. He and his partner have decided to sell up and move to Spain for the warmer climate, so they will be putting The Steadings on the market as well.”

I snapped my attention back to Mrs Cotter. “Sorry. The Steadings?”

She looked at me as though I had grown two heads. “Where Keith and Andrew live.”

“Oh yes. Of course.” My jumbled-up thoughts managed to pull up pictures of Keith’s modern detached villa, with its sweeping vista of the Briar Glen hills.

I refocused. “So, you say my grandmother wasn’t interested in the barber’s?”

“Not at all.” Mrs Cotter savoured another mouthful of tea. “I mean, Hair Apparent is situated closer to the train station and sees a bit more passing footfall, but she insisted it must be A Bloom with A View.”

I gazed around me. I wondered why Gran was so insistent it had to be this shop. “Do you know what this place used to be before you took it over?”

“Oh, it has changed hands a few times, but I do know it was a very successful bicycle shop back in the day.”

Mrs Cotter leant forward in her chair, nursing her mug in her freckly hands. “I’m officially closing in two weeks, on 1st May.” She paused for dramatic effect, her chocolate eyes shining. “Then she’s all yours.”

“I still think this whole thing is utter madness!” muttered Mum, dumping her tea towel on the kitchen table. “Where did Mum get the money to purchase a shop?!”

“I know she used to dabble in stocks and shares.” Dad gave a shrug. “She was a canny woman, your mother.”

Despite Mum’s clear frustration, she agreed with a fleeting smile. “That’s one way of describing her.”

Dad turned back to me. “So, you’ve decided to go for it then, sweetheart?”

I gave a fierce nod. “I have. Gran has bought me the shop and left me those tea sets, and I’m going to make a go of it.”

I could hear myself saying it, but it was as though my body had been inhabited by someone else. “And I’ve already started thinking about possible names for the business, how I want the layout of the shop to look and what social media and marketing it will need to get it off the ground.”

“But selling teapots,” said Mum, her concern for me evident.

“Well, why not?” replied Dad. “You know how much the lass has loved all that since she was little and it’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Helena had our Sophie talking about Royal Doulton before she learnt the alphabet!”

He gave me an encouraging wink. “You know that this might have happened for a reason – you quitting your job, I mean.”

Mum snatched up her tea towel again. “Oh, he’s off on one of his philosophical rambles!”

Dad grinned at her and squeezed her waist. She made a show of protesting, by batting him away.

As I watched them, I mulled over where my future was about to take me. Could I do this? Could I not only do it for me, but also for my grandmother? She had put so much faith in me and was giving me the opportunity she never had.

I straightened my back.

Oh God.

It was about to happen. I was going to start my own business.

Chapter Ten

The next couple of weeks were a blur of phone calls and emails and I had no time to really miss Castle Marrian.