Page 20 of The Secret Castle in the Highlands

He shook his head. ‘No thanks, sis. I’d better not. I’m up against it with this latest deadline for Super Shark.’

I pulled my quilted jacket tighter against the sea-stirred cold and glanced at my watch. It was just before eight am. ‘Joe and his lads said they’d be here by eight-thirty to get a prompt start.’

‘Well, if you need anything, give us a shout. Katie said she’ll be here by nine.’

I waved Caleb off and then made sure the door was locked and bolted. That confrontation with Alex Lapley had given me a bit of a turn, but I was damned if I was going to let it dictate what I did and didn’t do.

I’d just finished ferrying assorted biscuits, mugs of tea and shortbread over to Joe and his team, when Katie’s little Mini rolled into view. She got out, dressed in old denims and a loose white shirt with one of Caleb’s cricket jumpers pulled on over the top. Her hair was tied back in a spirally ponytail.

She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Oh shit! I knew I’d forgotten something. I meant to pop into the bakers on the way up here and get us something for lunch, save you faffing around.’

I ran over to the first cottage, where the front door was flung wide open, and there was the crackle of music from a radio somewhere. ‘Joe,’ I yelled, ‘Katie and I are just popping down to the bakers to get a few bits for lunch. Do you guys need anything?’

‘Liam’s asking for a scrambled egg roll, if they’ve got any left,’ came a disembodied voice.

I smiled to myself. The young lad had already polished off most of the iced ring biscuits. Oh, to have a young and fast metabolism again.

‘Okay. Will do.’

A blushing Liam emerged at the front door and handed me the money.

Katie and I set off in her car, back down to the sloping roofs and shops still wrapped in a delicate shawl of morning mist. Soon, Katie was turning into a vacant space in the car park opposite the bakers. There was the delicious, floury scent of warm bread as we entered beneath the pink-and-white-striped awning.

We were aware of a couple of other customers who’d meandered in and joined us in the queue, while we debated whether we wanted chorizo, mozzarella and rocket rolls, or brie, grape and salad paninis. As we shuffled closer to the counter, there was a bit of a commotion from the doorway.

We swung around to see Eliza Compton, the tour guide at McKerron Castle. She looked alarmed and her complexion was milky white. She hovered on the shop threshold. ‘You be careful, Poppy,’ she said, her eyes wide at both of us.

Katie and I swapped confused stares.

Eliza thrust her handbag back under her arm and began backing out of the shop door. She looked anaemic, what with her snowball of hair and her frozen, pale expression.

‘What’s wrong, Mrs Compton? What is it?’ I asked her, concerned.

‘You keep well away from anyone with that Lapley surname, do you hear me?’ She then seemed to think better of it and stepped back through the door of the bakers, rushing towards Katie. She clutched at her arm, her red nails pressing against the sleeve of Katie’s jumper. ‘Promise me, girls.’

‘Okay!’ Katie gave a half-laugh. ‘We promise.’ She jokingly held up two of her fingers in the shape of a cross, as though fending off a vampire, but Eliza was not amused.

‘It’s no laughing matter,’ she hissed. She headed back for the door. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ And with a final, lingering stare, she hurried out into the street and disappeared.

Chapter Eleven

‘Bloody hell!’ gasped Katie. ‘What was all that about?’

‘Goodness knows. I mean, I know the Lapleys have a reputation for being Port Starr’s answer to the Borgias, but still.’

The other customers in the shop and the two women serving behind the counter were still gawping towards the doorway, even though Eliza was well gone.

I shook my head. ‘She looked terrified.’

She frowned. ‘Or she could just be doing that for attention. I mean, she’s always been a bit of a diva.’

While Katie ordered our paninis and Liam’s roll, I thought again about how alarmed Eliza Compton had been and her dire warning.

‘What do you think of Mason Cooper, then?’ probed Katie, breaking through my deliberations.

I fiddled with my bangle. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t you think he’s hot?’