Page 46 of A Highland Family Affair

When all the gifts were open, Brodie stood. ‘I have one more gift for Olivia. One second.’ He disappeared and returned a few minutes later with an envelope. The last time he had handed her an envelope, it had been a booking letter for Skye, so her heart skipped. What had he been planning this time?

‘I know it’s not really tradition for the groom to book the bride’s hen weekend, but after we talked about what we’d both like to do, I decided it would be a nice thing to try and organise. So…’ He handed her the envelope, and she took out the contents.

Inside was a booking slip from a cottage rental company. On the slip was a photograph of a beautiful double-fronted stone structure with the name plaque Balloan Farm Cottage on the front. The setting was idyllic, surrounded by rolling countryside and trees.

‘Oh, wow, Brodie, this is amazing!’ She flicked through the photos of the cottage and butterflies set fluttering around inside of her. ‘Thank you so much.’ She stood and walked over to climb into his lap. ‘I can’t wait to go. But what about you? We need to sort something for you.’

‘You leave that with me,’ Dougie said with a tap to his nose. ‘I’m his best man and I’ve got plans.’

Olivia hugged and kissed Brodie. ‘I’m so lucky to have you.’

He ran his nose down hers. ‘Nah, I’m the lucky one.’

17

MARCH

With just over four weeks to go to the wedding, Olivia was excited to be going on her hen weekend. According to Brodie, it had been tricky to get everyone together on the same date but, thanks to his dogged determination, it had all come together. The only downside was that Harper hadn’t been able to make it, due to Paris Fashion Week, and it was looking unlikely that she would make the wedding due to Barcelona Bridal Fashion Week. Olivia was heartbroken but putting on a brave face.

It was Friday and Mirren, Skye and Charlotte had come along with Olivia for the journey from Inverness to Lairg in the chauffeur-driven (by Skye) Land Rover (borrowed from Uncle Innes because his vehicle was newer than Olivia’s and sounded less like a tractor). It hadn’t been brought up to date with USB connections or Bluetooth but it had a reasonably good CD player in it, although Olivia knew that Innes’s supply of Eric Clapton, Phil Collins and, at the other end of the spectrum, opera, might not be to her friends’ taste.

Bella was allegedly arriving under her own steam. This had made Olivia giggle and she had teased Bella that although Fifi may have been old, she was pretty sure that the little red Citroën definitely ran on petrol. Bella had rolled her eyes on the video call and simply replied with, ‘Ha ha, you muppet.’

Olivia couldn’t wait to see her. It had been far too long. Even though Brodie had been keen to go visit Bella and Harris again on the Isle of Skye, work at the castle and on his latest book of Drumblair walks had taken over and there had been no time.

The journey north to the farm on the outskirts of the little village of Lairg was very scenic and now it was coming towards the end of March it was wonderful to see the spring flowers finally making an appearance in the hedgerows. They passed fields with young lambs springing around with boundless energy and, whilst it wasn’t overly warm, the sky was a bright cornflower blue with intermittent candy floss clouds that hinted at the warmer weather to come.

Brodie had compiled Olivia a mixed CD of songs that he said reminded him of her. ‘A CD? Do they still make those?’ she had teased with a laugh when he handed it to her.

‘Well, the Landy is pretty ancient and doesn’t have Bluetooth or Spotify so CD it is,’ had been his reply.

The other women thought this was ridiculously romantic and she had received a chorus of ‘Aww’s on announcing she was in possession of the disc, and even though she had been a little embarrassed about playing it, they had insisted.

‘Gypsy’ by Fleetwood Mac was on the CD, of course, as was ‘In Your Eyes’ by Peter Gabriel then ‘Every Little Thing She Does is Magic’ by The Police. Most were seventies and eighties tracks, with the odd surprise recent song thrown in for good measure. As they arrived on the lane that led to the cottage that would be their home for a few days, they were all singing along to ‘Marry You’ by Bruno Mars.

Just as the brochure had shown, the cottage was a pretty stone double-fronted building with pots of daffodils and tulips around the door. The garden was multi-levelled and edged with chunks of the same stone that the cottage was constructed of and, aside from a couple of beautiful old oak trees, there were uninterrupted views of the countryside.

When they had discussed their respective celebrations together, Olivia had categorically stated that she hadn’t wanted the fuss of a spa trip or a night in a city involving copious amounts of alcohol and male dancers. So, Brodie had booked this little cottage in the countryside for her. He had confirmed all the details on Valentine’s Day: he had invited everyone and had made sure they were all available. It was perfect. He really did know her well.

Olivia retrieved the keys from the wall-mounted key safe and unlocked the door to the cottage. They entered into the tastefully decorated kitchen with its sage-green shaker-style units. Waiting for them on the butcher’s block countertop was a bottle of champagne and box of chocolates. The wine rack was fully stocked too with Olivia’s favourite Pinot Noir and Sauvignon Blanc, another treat from Brodie. Then, on the dining table in the next room, was a huge basket full of pampering supplies.

‘Well, Liv, he has certainly done a grand job,’ Skye said as she rifled through the face masks, lotions and potions. ‘He needs to give some tips to my Ben.’

‘He has done so well. This place is like a home from home,’ Mirren added.

‘You’re so lucky,’ Charlotte said wistfully as she glanced around at her surroundings.

The four friends wandered around the cottage, exploring each room in turn. It was quaint and well decorated with cream-painted stone walls and tartan curtains. There were three bedrooms, two of which had en-suite wet rooms, and a large family bathroom complete with claw-foot bath. The lounge had a log burner, ideal for the early spring chilly evenings, and squashy tan leather sofas.

‘Come on, girls, I think it’s wine o’clock,’ Skye said when they had finished the tour.

‘Aye, you get the glasses and the wine, and I’ll get the fire going,’ Mirren said.

As they were sitting in the lounge, there was a loud roaring noise coming from the lane and towards the cottage. They all stood and walked over to the window. Someone all dressed in black and wearing a black crash helmet was tearing up the track on a huge hunk of motorbike.

Olivia gasped. ‘Oh, no, I think it must be Harris. I wonder where Bella is. I hope everything’s okay.’ Worry knotted her stomach due to her friend’s apparent absence. It must be something serious if she isn’t able to be here, she thought.

They watched as Harris pulled the bike to a halt and climbed off. But what happened next made them all gasp.