Page 99 of A Scottish Island Summer

He started to make a move towards the three confrontational figures.

My hand shot out, reaching for Logan’s leather-jacketed sleeve. ‘What are you doing?’

Logan glanced down at my hand on his sleeve. His mouth twitched. ‘I’m going to ask Gabriel for the pleasure of the next dance,’ he joked. ‘No, I’m going over to see if I can defuse the situation.’

‘You could get hurt.’

Logan lifted one brow at me. ‘I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.’ There was that irresistible tremble of his lips again. ‘Tell you what, if things get a bit fractious, I’m giving you permission to come and rescue me.’

I gave my head an exasperated shake. ‘Do you ever stop cracking smartass remarks?’

‘Not usually.’

Campbell reappeared at Logan’s elbow and frowned over at the huddled group. ‘I’ll come with you. I’m curious to hear what this is about.’

As Logan and Campbell approached, the voices of Gabriel, Chrissie and Conall were growing louder and more accusatory.

‘I’m not your wife anymore, Gabe. Please. You’re making a scene.’

‘He’s already done that.’ Conall smirked. ‘Look at the state of him.’

Gabriel’s eyes hardened with drunken rage. ‘I’m not in such a state that I couldn’t put you flat on your arse!’

There was a series of gasps from the surrounding locals.

Campbell and Logan took this as their cue to intervene, together with the man in the red tartan trousers and another gentleman who looked like a WWE wrestler.

The stocky-built gent tried to reason with Conall, while Logan and Campbell were heading in Gabriel’s direction.

But out of the darkness, a shadowy figure emerged and gripped Gabriel by one arm. ‘Enough now, Gabe, OK? We don’t want to embarrass ourselves any more than we have done already, do we?’

The man was sporting a baggy navy hoodie and though the hood was tugged up and over his features, I could make out a long, sharp nose and whisps of fine pale blond hair tumbling over his forehead.

‘Who’s that man talking to Gabriel?’ I asked, having dashed over to Campbell and Logan.

Campbell craned his neck. His greying hair stirring in the breeze. ‘I don’t know. I can’t make out his face.’

While Conall huffed and puffed, irritated by the big-built man and Chrissie, who were both appealing to him to back off, Gabriel appeared to now be in the middle of a heated conversation with the hooded man.

After a few more moments, Gabriel’s enraged expression sagged into one of apprehension.

It was only when the man in the hooded top angled his head as he led Gabriel away into the darkness that Campbell let out a disbelieving snort. ‘It’s that crook, Leyton McPhail!’