Page 34 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

I wanted to bundle my brother up in my arms right now and tell him everything would be all right. “Do Mum and Dad know?”

“Yes,” answered Marcus, clearing his throat. “I called them as soon as Jacob had packed an overnight bag and left the flat. He said he was going to crash at a friends for a few days.”

“How did they take it?”

Marcus sniffed into my ear again. “They came over straight away. Mum was quite pragmatic about the whole thing, though. Plenty more handsome fish in the sea, she said. Dad wouldn’t stop hugging me and said he wanted to go and punch him.”

Marcus let out a wounded sigh.

“Mum and Dad said they’d stay over tonight, but I assured them I’d be all right. I want some space and couldn’t face the thought of endless questions and conducting a post-mortem over it.”

It was as if I could hear my brother’s addled brain struggling to make sense of it from here. “We were looking to get married next spring, sis. We’d even started looking at wedding venues.”

My teeth ground together as his voice collapsed again.

“Right, Marcus. I’m not debating the matter with you, ok? I want you to pack some things and come and stay here with me for a few days.”

“But my job, Anastasia!”

“I thought you said to me the other week that you had some leave due.”

He went quiet. “Well … yes, technically I do. I haven’t taken any holiday for a good couple of months, as things have been so hectic.”

“Well then. Ring the agency first thing tomorrow and explain to that boss of yours, Paul, what’s happened. Didn’t you say he and Jenna broke up recently?”

“Yes. They split a couple of months back.”

“There you are then. Paul will understand how you’re feeling.”

I ramped up my powers of persuasion. “And you can work from home here if you need to. You’ve said yourself often enough how much stuff you get done on your laptop when you’re out of the office.”

I could hear my brother’s husky voice beginning to weaken.

“Come on. A change of scene will do you good. You need a break. Especially now.”

My appeals were met with silence for a few moments.

“You need a breather. Stop being so stubborn.”

“Ha. That’s ironic coming from you, little sister.”

There was an agonised sigh and a few more beats of silence. “Ok,” he muttered, sniffing down the line. “You win. I’ll pack a few bits and ring Paul before I set off for yours tomorrow.”

* * *

The next day saw chilly, intermittent November downpours, which drove extra customers into Flower Power for refuge.

Locals let out discernible sighs of relief as the warm, twinkling interior of the shop, festooned with the sweet scent of flowers, welcomed them in. I’d also strategically placed pretty bowls of festive cranberry and fig potpourri around the place.

Flower Power was well and truly easing into Christmas, with two stout fir trees, decorated with gold lights and festooned with ribbons, standing either side of the shop door. Amber and Rowan had strung more matching fairy lights along the edges of the shelves, around the door and along the counter, together with some thick, golden tinsel.

All I had to do now was finalise my ideas for the shop window display. I’d decided to go with the white, cream, and gold ice palace theme. I had more time to work on that now that Ezra had cancelled his agreement with me, I concluded with an internal sigh.

I’d ordered some reels of crepe paper to use in the display from the local stationers, so I jumped in my van and shot down to the other end of town to collect it.

No sooner had I thanked Mrs Appleby and was negotiating the wodges of crêpe paper out of the door, than I almost collied with the tall, dark, and looming shape of Zach.

Oh, not again! Was he following me?