Page 93 of A Scottish Island Summer

At the mention of Iona’s name, the colour in Robbie’s face blossomed pink.

‘You look gorgeous!’ I beamed at her, taking in her soft make-up and the way her dress fluttered around her.

‘Little sis?’ puzzled Logan, giving Iona a peck on the cheek. ‘I didn’t know you were coming here tonight.’ Like with Robbie, he appraised her outfit. ‘You look so lovely; I almost didn’t recognise you.’

Iona rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘Wow. Thanks!’

‘You know what I mean.’

I watched Robbie and Iona with fascination. They kept flicking each other surreptitious glances. Finally, Iona gathered herself and smiled over at Robbie. ‘Hi, Robbie. How’s it going?’

Robbie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He looked shocked that she’d spoken to him. He cleared his throat. ‘Er, great thanks.’ He gestured to Iona’s dress. ‘You look … look … stunning.’

Iona let out a giggle. ‘Aww, thank you. Well, seeing as Darcie asked me to come along dressed up so she could take my photo, I thought I’d better make an effort.’

Robbie couldn’t tear his attention away from Iona’s pert little nose and pouty mouth. ‘Oh, that’s a funny coincidence. That’s why I’m here too.’

I could feel Logan staring at me, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘Isn’t that weird?’

I performed a casual shrug. ‘Isn’t it? Oh, well.’

Silence fell again and there were more charged looks between the two of them. Bloody hell! We could be standing around like this for the rest of the night. Right, Darcie. Take action. I seized each of them by the arm. ‘Sorry about this, guys, but I’m going to have to take a rain check on the photos. Plans have changed.’

Iona and Robbie gazed at me, confused, and then looked back at each other.

‘Never mind, eh? Tell you what, why don’t the two of you go sit at that table over there in the corner, have a drink and chat for a bit? See ya!’

Before either of them had time to protest or argue, I’d plonked them down at a quiet, circular table for two and left them to it.

I returned to Logan, having snaked my way back through the crowded pub, to find him shaking his head at me.

‘What?’ I asked, wide-eyed.

Logan arched a brow. I shifted to my right and kept peering through the bodies to where Robbie and Iona were sitting. At first, it was all blushing glances at the pub floor and Robbie fidgeting, but now they both had a drink and Iona was throwing her head back and laughing at something Robbie was saying to her.

Robbie couldn’t conceal his delight.

My optimism bloomed. ‘My cunning plan seems to be working.’

Logan stole a look across the pub at his friend and his sister locked in conversation.

He turned back to me, his eyes softening. ‘You can add matchmaker to your CV.’

‘They just needed a little push in the right direction.’

I beckoned for Logan to pass me back my wine glass and he did, shaking his head in wonder again at me. Our fingers brushed against each other and I almost let out a gasp.

Campbell, who’d been admiring a couple of framed photographs of the Cullins on a bleak winter day on the wall, reappeared, oblivious to what had been taking place.

Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, but I had to admit that I was quite enjoying myself. The atmosphere was buzzing; Iona and Robbie appeared enthralled with each other’s company and Logan was very easy on the eye.

‘This place hasn’t changed a jot in the twenty years I’ve been away,’ mused Campbell, glancing about himself.

He drained the rest of his beer and set his empty pint glass back down on the crowded bar top.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a woman emerge from a door behind the bar. She was, I estimated, around sixty years old, very attractive, with a faint dusting of freckles and a cloud of curly strawberry-blonde hair skimming her shoulders. She had bright, inquisitive blue eyes and an easy smile, and she chatted happily to the bar staff.

‘Is that her?’ I asked Campbell, giving him a playful nudge. ‘The woman over my shoulder, that’s just appeared behind the bar. Is that Chrissie Aitken?’