Page 36 of Chasing a Highland Dream

‘So, what appeals to you so much about the avian population?’ Once again, Bella was genuinely intrigued to know.

‘I love how they look after their young, how they go about everyday life. Their sense of community and protection.’

Bella nodded. ‘Well, yes, I can see why that would appeal to you specifically.’

‘And I love the way each species has its own sound, its own voice, I suppose, like a different language.’ He fell silent for a few moments, and he frowned, opened his mouth and closed it again as if he was unsure of divulging anything further. Eventually he continued, ‘My interest started when I was wee. My dad was… how can I put it?’ He looked up to the ceiling briefly as if searching for answers, then shrugged. ‘Sod it, might as well tell it how it is, eh? My dad was an alcoholic and a petty thief. He’d come home most Saturday nights pished out of his head and belligerent with it. I’d have been around six or seven from memory but I’m sure it’d been going on long before that. Some nights the police would escort him home or to the cells at the station to sleep it off. And sometimes if he left before the police were called on him, he’d arrive home being loud and aggressive.

‘On those occasions my mum would get me out of bed and walk me round to my grandad’s house – her dad – with my coat over my pyjamas, and I’d stay there for the night to keep me safe. Me and my grumpa, as I used to call him, we’d get up on the Sunday morning and Grumpa would pack sandwiches for us. Then we’d get the bus to Threipmuir Reservoir outside Edinburgh. He had this wee pocketbook with photos of British birds, and we’d sit on a bench or in the hide, and tick off the ones we saw. They were special times.’

He lifted his chin, and his chocolate-brown eyes were glistening with emotion. He cleared his throat. ‘Sheesh, I don’t talk about this stuff usually. How did you do that?’ He laughed and rubbed his hands over his face.

Bella found herself fighting back tears and she reached out to pat his arm. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. I’m so sorry about what you went through with your dad.’

Harris took a swig of his coffee and topped up both of their mugs from the cafetière. ‘Aye, like I said, he was a hard man to love.’

‘It’s so sweet to hear about your grandad, though. And it explains your affinity with older people. I bet you missed your grumpa when you moved to Inverness.’

Harris folded his arms and leant them on the table but kept his gaze fixed on his mug. ‘He died about a year before we came. That’s why my aunty left her house to my mum. But you’re right, I did miss him. Still do. I have his little pocketbook, though. I still use it.’

Bella pulled her lips between her teeth and tried to compose herself. She was seeing Harris in a different light now. His lack of drinking and his passion for birdwatching didn’t make him boring; they simply made him sensible and sentimental. She’d been wrong to judge him. He was definitely the kind of friend she wanted in her life, and she was happy, now, she had met him. Although she might not admit that to her granny; the last thing she wanted to do was give her false hope.

‘That’s so lovely,’ she whispered. He was quite a wholesome, caring and thoughtful man, something that caught Bella a little off guard.

He inhaled and clapped his hands together. ‘Right, enough of this maudlin stuff. I’ve bored you quite enough with my life history.’ He stood and picked up his jacket. ‘I should get you home, I’m sure you have more interesting things to be doing. I’ll bring Isla back later if that’s okay with you?’

Bella watched as he too gathered himself. She felt she knew him a little better now, although he clearly felt uncomfortable for sharing.

‘That would be great, thank you. Hang on a sec while I go pay our bill.’

Harris held up his hand. ‘Oh no, it’s fine, you⁠—’

She cut him off. ‘—Please, it’s the least I can do.’

The journey back to Drumblair was mostly void of conversation as they listened to a Spotify soundtrack. This time it was a comfortable silence, however, punctuated by Florence and the Machine singing about waiting for someone’s call.

Harris pulled to a stop at the front of the castle and he turned to her. ‘There you go. Home sweet home. I’ll let you know if I hear any more about your car.’

Bella smiled and nodded. ‘Thanks for your help.’ She paused for a moment then said: ‘I think you and I will be good friends,’ as she climbed down from the vehicle.

He gave a brief smile. ‘Friends, aye, I’d like that.’ Then he drove away and out of sight.

19

Once back at the castle, Bella sat on the bench she had shared with Aiden the day before. The sun was warm on her skin and signs of summer were everywhere. The wildflower beds on either side of the entrance to the apartments were alive with bees, their little hairy legs yellow with the bounty they had collected. White candy-floss clouds floated around the blue expanse overhead and she closed her eyes for a few moments to listen to the birdsong. She could make out different tones and patterns of the chirps when she concentrated, something she had never really taken the time to notice before. Harris was right, though; it did sound as if each species had their own language.

‘Afternoon, Bella,’ came a familiar voice.

Bella opened her eyes. ‘Oh, hi, Aiden. How are the words coming today?’ He appeared to be wearing pyjama bottoms and an old faded T-shirt. Bella wondered how on earth that made him more attractive. Get a grip, Douglas, your hormones are in overdrive!

He nodded. ‘Better, thanks.’

‘That’s good, you must be relieved.’

He sat down beside her. ‘I am. Only another sixty thousand to go.’

Bella widened her eyes. ‘Wow. That’s a lot of words.’

‘It sure is. It’s a good thing I have no personal distractions, I suppose. Although I’m a terror for getting sucked into TikTok.’