Page 14 of A Scottish Island Summer

The silver rain was melting into the North Atlantic and hardy tourists pushed along on the pavement, dipping in and out of the gift shops and cafes.

‘Kyle and Laird are such a sweet couple,’ chattered Iona, seemingly oblivious to the rain plopping down onto her woollen hood. ‘They only got married last year. It was a big affair here on Skye. Their two Westies, Lanark and Lauder, brought their wedding rings up the aisle on little heart-shaped cushions. It was so cute!’

‘It does sound lovely,’ I said, and found I meant it.

She guided me up and round the corner, past an art shop displaying paintings, sketches and photos of everything from fisherman hauling nets to storm-lashed rocks. ‘Skye is so romantic, even in the rain,’ she said with a contented sigh.

I gave her a withering look as the dampness began to seep into my bones. ‘Right. I’ll take your word for it.’

‘It’s a wonderful backdrop for proposals and weddings. There’s just something so worldly and breathtaking about the island.’ Iona’s walking boots sploshed through a shimmering puddle on the pavement.

She bathed me in a warm smile. ‘You could always come back another time with your partner and have a romantic long weekend here.’

Crikey, what a prospect! I growled to myself, taking in the locals, huddled against the elements. I’d rather pull out my own eyelashes than come back here, with or without the man of my dreams. Ha! He didn’t exist anyway; I’d learnt that much from bitter experience. I straightened my shoulders. ‘I’m not seeing anyone. I mean, I was involved with someone up until a year or so ago, but I found out he was cheating on me, the ambitious dickhead.’

Iona jerked her damp plait round to look at me. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Oh, don’t be. I’m glad I found out he was a twat when I did.’ I gripped the embroidered strap of my shoulder bag tighter.

I blinked back the memories of how stupid I’d felt. Ever since then, my self-preservation had kicked in and never left. I swore I wouldn’t let another man use me like that again. I had my career and that was all I needed. At least I could place my trust in that!

What my late parents had shared together had been unique. A one-off. I wasn’t interested or prepared to put myself through that kind of public embarrassment again for something that could never compete with the relationship and love my parents had shared. I’d just get let down, and anyway, there were far more important things in life, like ambition and success.

Iona offered me a fleeting but kind smile, which I appreciated. ‘Well, here we are.’

I dashed the raindrops from my face and gazed up.

The words Sparkles in the Skye were spelled out in gorgeous silver and gold italics above a grey stone shop with silky steel-coloured curtains tumbling either side of the windows.

The displays were decorated with seashells and polished rocks, surrounding an arty arrangement of everything from twisted rope bracelets and dangly earrings, to dolphin-shaped dress rings and unicorn brooches in ivory with diamond encrusted details.

I marvelled at the intricate craftmanship, the way the light sparked against the dolphin’s sapphire eye.

It was all a beautiful and eclectic combination of Celtic and Gothic beauty.

I hadn’t expected this.

‘Come on,’ cajoled Iona, smiling at my expression as I appreciated the jewellery. ‘Let’s introduce you to Kyle and Laird and then we can get started. Arran should be here already.’

The interior of the shop was like something out of an ice palace with a silver and white edged glass counter.

Arrays of more necklaces, rings and pendants shone out of velvet vanilla trays.

Even the shop carpet was a light biscuit colour, to compliment the furnishings and fittings.

Soft Highland music was wafting in the background.

Arran was busy in one corner, attending to his camera. ‘Good morning!’ He grinned, showing off large teeth. ‘Have a good night?’

‘Yes, thanks,’ I replied, enchanted by the various rings, bracelets and bangles on display.

Two attractive young men bestowed welcoming smiles on Iona and gave her cheek kisses in warm greeting.

Iona shared a laugh and a joke with them and then gestured to me. ‘And I’m sure Darcie Freeman needs no introduction.’

The man with floppy dark blond hair and dimples introduced himself as Kyle. His husband, Laird, had short copper hair and an impressive moustache.

‘We’re so excited you agreed to come on board to showcase our new collection.’ Kyle grinned. ‘We’ve only been open a year, so we thought we needed to give the business a bit of a push.’