Page 22 of A Scottish Country Escape

I nodded and watched her tap over to the door and swing round the pink wooden sign to proclaim us open. My stomach pirouetted.

The clock on the far wall struck 9 am.

I had experienced a fitful night’s sleep, worrying about how Paper Roses would be received by the community. Then my thoughts would career in the dark to my gran. What was it that had troubled her that day, when she had almost passed out? And why had she been so adamant that I help Dexter Grayling?

I had tried to raise the subject again with her in the last couple of days, but she had brushed my questions aside, insisting it was because of what he could do for the area. Then she would attempt to distract me further by discussing Paper Roses.

I had sent Dexter a text, reminding him of what day we were opening and what time. To be honest, I’d imagined him to be one of those louche individuals that didn’t surface until noon.

Instead, he made me flinch in surprise as he bounded through the door as soon as Gran had unlocked it, his blue eyes concealed behind aviator sunglasses. He did look very attractive, but I pushed that to one side.

He stared around him, disappointment weighing down his shoulders. He swiped off his sunglasses and then his attention settled on me. His gaze lingered for a few moments. ‘Good morning, Ms Cassidy. You look… very pretty.’

It took a moment for his compliment to sink in. ‘Oh. Right. Thank you. So do you… I mean, you look very dashing.’

There was a quiver of a smile at his mouth. ‘Thank you.’

There was an oddly charged silence and then he flipped back to being brusque again. ‘So, where is everyone?’ He pushed his mirrored sunglasses into the pocket of his crisp white shirt and they dangled there. ‘We need to get on with this. The sooner we locate this Carlucci woman, the better.’

I flicked a look at Gran, but she was distracted by a few expectant faces appearing at the windows. ‘Oh, here are your first customers, Elle.’

A steady trickle of locals came into the shop, eager to see what the ‘Cassidy girl’ had been up to. They partook of the swirling flutes of pink Champagne and savoured the fat iced cupcakes.

I tried to conceal my initial disappointment as they indulged in the complimentary treats, but only Mrs Cavendish, one of Gran’s book club buddies, bought one of the sea shell picture frames within the first hour. The others mooched about, picking up items and then putting them down again. It was only when one of the book club ladies recognised Dexter that half the female population of Fir Haven suddenly besieged Paper Roses.

Dexter eyed me from where he was swigging champagne and being polite to a gaggling throng of admiring ladies, clutching copies of his various novels which they had brought with them and asking him to sign them. He fought his way through. ‘Dear god! I might not get out of here alive!’ Then he pinned me to the spot with his intense gaze. ‘I’ve had no bloody luck finding out anything at all about Mrs Carlucci. I can’t get a word in! If I’m asked one more time if I’m married…’

I lifted one brow. ‘Yes, all that fawning adoration must be awful.’

Dexter eyed me over his half-empty champagne glass. ‘It depends who’s doing the fawning.’

My cheeks flushed pink as Grandma stepped up. ‘Isn’t this wonderful? More customers!’ she trilled.

Dexter pushed himself away from the counter and drained the last of his champagne. ‘Time for me to mingle. We have to find that woman.’

Gran edged closer to him. ‘Please be tactful. And watch what you ask and how you ask it. Some of the folks round here can be rather… protective of their privacy.’

This whole situation was laughable. More admiring gaggles of women attempted to flutter around Dexter, asking for his autograph. It was like something out of Cinderella, when the prince was clutching the glass slipper and gaggles of women were eager to see if it fitted.

Dexter nodded. ‘I will be circumspect, Clara.’

She flushed a little pink and lightly touched his sleeve, before he was swallowed up by more autograph hunters.

What on earth had I let myself in for?

I didn’t even like the man!

Chapter Fourteen

Dexter’s gaze followed mine as a cluster of recognisable locals buzzed through the shop door and each took a glinting champagne flute before starting to meander around.

Grandma, who was putting a picture frame and a couple of postcards through the till for two backpackers, eyed me with intent. Then she returned to what she was doing.

Mrs Davenport, the retired art gallery receptionist, wandered in with her husband. They were exclaiming about how lovely the newly painted Paper Roses was.

From what I could remember, May Davenport’s knowledge of everyone and everything connected with Fir Haven was bordering on encyclopaedic. If she didn’t know anything about the Carlucci family, then it was unlikely anyone else would.

A glimmer of optimism crept through me as I thought about what I was going to say while I began to approach her and her husband Douglas. If, for whatever reason, my own grandmother was reluctant to tell me anything about Linda Carlucci, then they might.