Page 58 of The Bookshop By the Loch

“I am indeed and I’m sure it isn’t like that at all.”

Celeste gathered her cardigan around her, despite the warm temperature in the room. Maeve frowned with concern.

Outside the window, late afternoon sunshine was forcing its way across the grounds and edging through the trees.

“Hopefully I won’t peg it till you’ve been able to give me some feedback on my writing.”

Tobias tried to bury a laugh and Maeve looked aghast.

It was as she turned to address her portrait plans again with Tobias that I noticed a small colour photograph of a stunning young woman in a solid silver frame on the dressing table.

She was gazing at the camera, her pale gold hair pulled away from her face in romantic waves. Her features were long and arresting, enhanced by lashed, hooded eyes.

Celeste followed my gaze. “That’s me,” she confirmed with an element of pride. “I was thirty-three there.”

Tobias gasped, “Wow,” and Celeste’s lined mouth performed a small smile.

“Age is cruel but death is crueller.”

Thoughts of my dad erupted inside my head like a volcano again. I knew I had to face things and confront the situation with him. Both Mum and me. We had to decide what we were going to do about Dad’s request to talk, instead of just dodging and skirting around everything. Hoping to ignore the situation wasn’t going to make things any better.

“…and so, I thought you might be able to tell me what you think of my writing. Maeve tells me you’re an editor and that you work for a big publishing house?”

Celeste’ s questioning voice made me blink and refocus. I sat up straighter. “Sorry? Oh yes. That’s right. Or at least, I did.”

Tobias studied me for a few moments. He spoke to Celeste again, as though he were allowing me some time to gather my thoughts. “Maeve said you’d like to be painted with Bracken Way Castle in the background?”

“That’s right,” agreed Celeste, knotting her fingers together as she sat there. She scowled down at herself. “Although with my body in this state and sitting in this damned thing, I won’t be able to make the journey up there.”

“That won’t be an issue,” reassured Tobias. “I can paint you and recreate the castle as the backdrop. You won’t have to go anywhere.”

The older woman’s expression glowed. “Wonderful!” She slid the three of us a careful look. “I have this dress.” She hesitated. “It’s very special to me. I’d very much like to be painted wearing that.”

“Of course. May I see it?” asked Tobias, intrigued.

Celeste indicated to Maeve. “Could you fetch it for me from my wardrobe please, dear? It’s hanging at the back, in a black suit carrier.”

Maeve got up and approached the wardrobe. She eased open the double doors, giving us a greater glimpse of its sumptuous, glitzy contents.

“You have so many stunning outfits,” I remarked to Celeste.

Her voice was a lilting, soft Scottish burr. “Thank you my dear. Just a pity I’m too old and decrepit to get into most of them now.”

Maeve’s hand trawled over her mother’s vast array of glamorous clothes, until it landed on one outfit concealed in a black cover towards the back. She unhooked it and returned across the room towards Celeste, lying it across her lap before she sat down again.

Celeste reached for the zip and attempted to unfasten it. Her gnarled fingers struggled, falling over each other. “Blast!”

“Here. Allow me,” said Tobias, standing up. He grasped the zip and eased it down effortlessly with his long fingers. A snapshot of him doing the same to a dress I might be wearing zoomed through my imagination and I cursed myself. He looked very well versed in gliding down dress zips… I forced away the pictures in my head. Good grief, Dunbar! What is up with you today?!

I focused again on Celeste, as she started to angle the black cover zip open, to reveal swathes of silver thread. Celeste stared down at it, lost in her own thoughts for a few moments. A secret shadow of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

She gathered herself and using her other hand, scooped out the flowing dress. Like a silvery waterfall, it slithered free from the black suit cover.

It was floor length, consisting of two layers. The first was tuille, laid over with long silver threads, like running rain drops. It had spaghetti straps, made out of the same shimmery silver.

Maeve’s mouth dropped open. “Where did you get that, Mum? It’s beautiful. I don’t ever remember seeing that dress before.”

Celeste offered her daughter an odd glance. “Oh, I got this a long time ago. No doubt you’ve seen it before, but don’t remember.”