Page 55 of A Scottish Island Summer

Chapter Twelve

I stared wide-eyed with apprehension at the old boat, which belonged to Logan’s friend Robbie Dewar. Its name, Dua Lipa, skipped along the side in italic pink paint.

My attention lingered on the shimmering water, which was licking the shore of the Coral Beach.

Dua Lipa was a mottled cream and moss-green wooden affair with a small cabin.

I thought about the water closing over my head the other morning and the frantic wriggling of Flipper beside me. The sea had been contorting and churning, as though it were pulling at my limbs. That was until Logan came to my aid.

‘Can you tell Robbie’s got a bit of a thing for a certain pop star?’ whispered Logan with a grin.

I blinked back more mental pictures of myself flapping around under the choppy waves. ‘I would never have guessed.’ I eyed the boat again with trepidation. ‘So, we’re going out on the water in this?’

Logan dropped his voice and glanced over at Robbie, who was faffing around in the cabin. ‘Well, we’re not walking there. And anyway, Robbie’s been conducting these sorts of boat tours for years. He knows what he’s doing.’

Logan stepped aboard and gallantly shot out his hand for me to take.

My fingers furled around his. My heart clattered in my ears.

I clambered in and as soon as my feet hit the boat deck, I let go of his hand, not daring to look at him.

‘Apart from Dua Lipa, Robbie’s always had a bit of a thing for my sister,’ he confided in a hush. ‘He was gutted when she married that eejit, Theo Carrington.’

Robbie waved out of the cabin window. He looked in his mid-thirties like Logan and was attractive in a burly, blond bear kind of way, with cheeky light blue eyes.

I wanted to ask Logan more about Iona’s ex-husband but didn’t get the chance.

Logan introduced us and Robbie shook my hand. ‘Very nice to meet you, Darcie. I’ve known this reprobate ever since we were at primary school together,’ proclaimed Robbie, eliciting a weary eye roll from Logan. ‘He always was the clever one.’

‘Och, don’t be daft!’ Logan laughed.

‘It’s true. And I used to be the better-looking one out of the two of us. Talk about a swotty ugly duckling morphing into a swan.’

Logan let out an awkward snort. He appeared momentarily discomfited. ‘OK, Dewar, enough of the trip down memory lane. We’re supposed to be showing Darcie the varied array of wildlife on Skye, not reducing her to tears about my boring schooldays.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I teased, as the boat creaked under my feet. ‘I’d love to hear about what you were like back in the day. I bet you looked sweet in short trousers.’

Logan made a sarcastic tut. ‘Don’t encourage him. Please.’

I peered over the side of the boat at the water and took a seat on a nearby bench. I shrugged on the safety jacket that Robbie handed to me.

‘Here. Let me,’ offered Logan. He gestured for me to stand up. My neck prickled at the sensation of him standing so close as he fastened my life jacket. ‘There you are. Good to go.’

I got a cloud of the fresh, zesty aftershave he was wearing.

‘Can you return the favour now, please?’ he asked, pointing to his life jacket.

I stepped closer to him. He smelled delicious. Looked it too.

I tied his jacket as fast as I was able, so I could move away from him. ‘Done,’ I croaked.

As we bobbed there, ready to set off, I took in the surrounding hills, which were draped with sweeps of heather.

Logan and Robbie were exchanging a series of jokes and general banter when my phone rattled in my rucksack.

I bent down and found it.

It was Justine. ‘How’s it all going, darling?’ she crackled down the line. ‘Enjoying yourself?’