Page 75 of A Scottish Island Summer

Julie guided Campbell towards the lounge at the far end of the hallway. Its panelled door was ajar, revealing dancing flames in the grate and checked, toffee-coloured armchairs and sofas huddled around it.

‘Och, the poor man,’ whispered Kathleen to me when he was out of earshot. ‘He looks like he’s had a rough time of it. I never would have recognised him.’

Kathleen gave her silver head a sorrowful shake. ‘If you’d only seen Campbell Adams years ago. He was a fine figure of a man.’

I recalled the online images that Logan had shown me; Campbell attired in tailored suits with a sharp haircut.

‘His wife was that local lass, Bonnie Naylor.’ Kathleen sniffed. ‘Very attractive, but always on the lookout for something better, if you know what I mean.’

‘What happened?’ I asked, watching Campbell ease himself into one of the armchairs.

‘She upped and left him years ago. Goodness knows where she went. Some say she was embarrassed by his obsession with the Skye Lovers’ Cross. I think it was more a case of thinking she was meant for better things than being married to a struggling archaeologist.’ Kathleen lowered her voice even further. ‘But I don’t think his preoccupation with that piece of jewellery helped their marriage either.’ She pinned on a smile. ‘Right. You go and make yourself comfy and I’ll be along with that tea in a jiffy.’

As Kathleen and Julie vanished, I made my way up the carpeted guest house hallway and entered the lounge. Campbell was basking in the glow from the fire.

I tugged off my coat and draped it over the arm of the sofa. I’d only just made myself comfortable when Campbell spoke from his squashy armchair. ‘I need your help,’ he rushed, still in his coat I noticed. ‘You and that young man of yours.’

‘He’s not my young man,’ I insisted.

Campbell carried on talking. ‘I know it really does exist. The cross, I mean. I’m sure it does. I always did, but even more so now.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I lost a friend recently. It was very sudden. I don’t want any regrets. I’m determined to give my search for it another go. Life’s too short.’

‘Och, that’s all just island folklore.’

We jerked our heads round at the sound of Kathleen’s voice. She was coming through the lounge doorway clutching a tray set with a pot of tea and two cups and saucers. She’d even included a plate of macaroons.

Campbell shook his head in disagreement. ‘It isn’t just folklore, Kathleen.’ He swivelled his attention back to me. ‘People think I’m a crackpot. That’s why I left Skye years ago. But I need to prove the Skye Lovers’ Cross is real.’

‘But … but…’ I began.

Kathleen set down the tray on the heavy wooden table in front of us, and as she poured the tea, she slid me a charged glance as if to say, ‘See? He’s obsessed!’

‘I think I might know where the cross is,’ rattled on Campbell.

‘Do you have proof?’ asked Julie, joining us in the lounge.

‘I’m trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.’

‘But that’s not concrete evidence,’ I said to him, the prospect of my bed becoming more and more appealing by the minute.

‘No, but it’s a start.’ Campbell’s eyes darkened with enthusiasm. ‘I heard a rumour you’re writing a book, Darcie.’

‘Who have you been talking to?’ The cup of tea stilled as I raised it to my lips.

Julie pulled a face. ‘You can’t keep anything a secret around here.’

‘A young lady who works in Logan’s shop told me. Blonde. Friendly,’ Campbell explained.

Iona.

‘It’s not a book as such,’ I muttered. ‘It’s more of a travel guide about Skye.’

The flames popped and sizzled in the fire.

‘My reputation was shot down years ago,’ said Campbell, clutching his cup on his saucer. He set it down on the table again and pushed himself to the edge of the armchair. ‘People laughed at me, scoffed, said that I was only going on about the cross because I wanted attention. Some even accused me of using the stories about the cross to try and secure research funding.’ He let out a sarcastic laugh. ‘Why on earth would I do that? It cost me friends, work colleagues…’ His face took on a distant look. ‘Even my marriage.’

Kathleen’s expression was awash with sympathy.

He leant forward, snatched up his cup and saucer again and took a few mouthfuls before continuing. ‘Now, I’m hoping I can finally prove everyone wrong. I’m determined to give this search everything I’ve got.’