Page 90 of A Scottish Island Summer

Chapter Twenty-Three

‘Excuse me? Are you looking for Chrissie?’

Logan, Campbell and I spun round to find a woman peering over the white painted garden gate at us.

We’d only just arrived at Chrissie Aitken’s house and had knocked a couple of times, but there’d been no answer from her shiny, pillar-box-red front door.

The middle-aged lady continued to eye us. ‘She won’t be there, I’m afraid. She’ll be at the Old Dog and Duck.’

‘Is that where she works?’ asked Campbell.

‘Well, she helps out,’ sniffed the woman. ‘Chrissie and the landlord are … you know … close.’

Campbell looked thrown. ‘Really? Oh. Right.’

The woman edged closer to Chrissie’s gate; a checked tea towel slung over one shoulder. ‘She won’t be back till late. It’s the centenary of the pub opening tonight, so there’s fireworks and all sorts. Sounds like it’s going to be a bit of a shindig.’

‘Thanks for your help,’ said Campbell.

The three of us departed Chrissie Aitken’s garden path and clicked her gate closed behind us. Chrissie’s neighbour, meanwhile, was still discharging curious looks at us as she made her way back up her garden path and into her own house. She gave the impression she wasn’t sure whether we were tax inspectors or the mafia.

‘I think we should go,’ announced Logan.

‘Go where?’ I frowned up at him.

‘To the Old Dog and Duck’s centenary do tonight. If it’s anything like the Hogmanay celebrations on Skye, believe me, you won’t want to miss it.’

Logan’s gaze came to rest on my mouth. His eyes reminded me of the tumultuous depths of the North Atlantic, with its moody silvers and pearly greys. My stomach felt like a set of tangled up Christmas lights.

‘And it’ll give us a good excuse to go to the pub, join in the festivities and speak to Chrissie Aitken,’ he added.

Campbell watched the two of us as we reached the end of terrace cottage path. He blinked up the street. ‘Aye, young Logan. You might have a point there.’

Logan’s pouty mouth broke into a million-dollar smile as he looked at me. ‘Fancy being naughty on a weeknight?’

I hated it when he did this, when he made my insides feel like they’d turned to liquid. I straightened my back. ‘I thought we were supposed to be working on tracking down the whereabouts of the cross?’

‘We still are, but I forgot the pub celebrations were taking place this evening. We can do both.’

I pushed out my chin. ‘Logan, I⁠—’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ broke in Campbell. ‘I suggest we head back to Portree and meet up again later. I wonder what time this will all kick off this evening?’

Logan produced his mobile from his trouser pocket. ‘I’ll check the local news website. It’ll be on there.’ He tapped at his phone screen a few times. His lips pushed themselves out into an irresistible kissing shape whenever he concentrated. He was doing it now, damn him. ‘Ah. There we are. Fireworks are at 9pm, but there’s drinks and nibbles in the pub beforehand, from eight. Donation to charity at the door for entry.’ He shot me a loaded look. ‘All of Portree, or near enough, will be there.’

This wasn’t a good idea; thrown together under the stars with music and fireworks. I wanted to try and come up with an excuse not to go. Look how our other evening had turned out, when I’d had cold feet and insisted on leaving.

But Logan and Campbell were already enthusing about the evening ahead. ‘With everything that’s been going on recently, I forgot all about the pub bash,’ said Logan. He slid me another glance. ‘I’ve had other things on my mind.’

I cleared my throat. Then an idea exploded in my head. Maybe this shindig tonight, with a lot of the community being involved, could be the perfect excuse to help others, even if I couldn’t allow it to mean anything for Logan and me…

* * *

I was standing outside The Gorse waiting for Campbell to emerge and for Logan to come and meet us.

The Old Dog and Duck was situated on the corner, further up on the opposite side of the road, and every so often, its double doors would clang open and inviting, warm lemon light would spill out onto the pavement.

Cheerful locals were gravitating towards the pub, linking arms and playfully jostling against one another as they engaged in idle chatter.