Page 68 of A Scottish Highland Surprise

“Right.”

Helena rubbed at her face, willing herself anywhere but here. This was awful. And that Meakin tea set Donald had mentioned… He couldn’t afford that, so why was he even asking about it?

Helena felt embarrassed and clumsy, hiding behind the connecting door. She slumped her head back against the wall

“Price is no option,” insisted Donald, his voice stinging her again and again. “I’ve been saving up for it.”

No. No! This was all wrong. Guilt gnawed at her. She couldn’t let him do this.

Jutting out her trembling chin, Helena made her way back out to the shop. Her legs trembled in her long boots. She drew on all her acting reserves to appear surprised at the sight of her husband standing there.

She didn’t dare risk looking over at Chris, at least not straightaway.

Helena struggled to push out a smile at her husband. “Donald. What are you doing here?”

Chris watched, his jaw clenched through a forced smile.

“Oh, just thought I’d drop by and give you a lift home. We can collect Marnie from Joanne’s on the way. It isn’t great weather at the moment.”

Helena snatched up her coil of red scarf, resting on top of the counter like a slumbering snake.

She was trapped in an agonising limbo. Chris was to her left, wearing a look of hurt that was etched into the angles of his handsome face. To the right, Donald was loitering there, hands stuffed into his pockets and his shoulders hunched over as usual.

The snow was spiralling down now.

Why did Donald want to buy her that tea set? She knew she had been going on about how beautiful it was at home, but he had given her the clear impression he wasn’t even listening. Whenever she spoke about Cup of Joy or crockery, his eyes would glaze over.

Helena’s hand reached to the top of her bag and brushed against the box containing the brooch Chris had just given her. Chris noticed. His mouth slid into a resigned ghost of a smile.

As Helena and Donald reached the shop door, Donald tugged it open and a blast of crisp December air pummelled her cheeks. She found herself almost barrelling into her husband’s donkey-jacketed backt. “What we were just talking about,” said Donald in cryptic tones to Chris. “Can you put it aside for me?”

“Sure. No problem. Goodnight, Helena. See you Monday.”

Chris delivered the Meakin Poppy tea set on Saturday to her address, as Donald had requested. She and Marnie were out in the back garden, building a snowman and promising themselves a hot chocolate afterwards

What Helena didn’t know was that Chris refused to charge Donald for the Meakin she had fallen in love with the first day it arrived at the shop. She had glimpsed its ruby-red Poppy pattern emblazoned over it like exploding hearts. It was ironic, as that was what her own heart felt like now.

As Helena listened to Marnie’s excited chatter about putting one of her daddy’s old bobble hats on top of the snowman’s crooked head, a growing sense of realisation shook Helena over and over.

What had she even been thinking? The sight of her red-nosed daughter dancing about in front of her brought the whole situation screaming into focus.

Visions of Donald standing there in Cup of Joy opposite Chris, prepared to bankrupt himself to buy her that tea set.

Chris was everything that her husband wasn’t – confident, charismatic, dangerous – but what about Marnie?

She felt her leather-gloved hands working by themselves, disembodied, moulding and patting the snow into a rotund body. “You’re doing a great job, Mummy,” said Marnie, beaming up at her, her lashes spiked with cold.

Helena never returned to Cup of Joy on Monday morning. Her explanation to Donald was that she had experienced a change of heart about not being around at home as much and that she felt like Marnie was suffering. She knew that was a lie, but that was all she had.

Donald’s initial surprise at her decision soon gave way to secret delight that his wife had seen sense in the end. He realised he couldn’t extinguish her feelings for that flash idiot Chris Auld overnight, but arriving at that ridiculous shop out of the blue like that had been a stroke of genius on his part.

Donald congratulated himself again as he recalled his stunned wife standing there. Throwing in mention of that tea set she had been raving about had been a great idea too. And it turned out he hadn’t even had to put his hand in his pocket for it. That poser Auld had insisted it was a leaving gift for Helena. No need to reveal that to his wife though.

She would be pining after him even more if she knew that, and he couldn’t risk it.

Donald gave another self-congratulatory grin. Over before it even started, thanks to him. And he had his wife back where she belonged. At home.

Helena avoided the town centre from then on. She couldn’t face the prospect of seeing Cup of Joy, let alone Chris. The mere thought of it made her heart deflate.