Page 23 of Happiness Under a Summer Skye

Ruby leaned in and kissed her cheek. ‘Well… maybe you don’t actually have to this time.’ She gave a wink. ‘Right, I’d better be going. I’ve a date with some tap shoes and a bit of Cliff Richard.’ She giggled, turned and jogged off towards the hall once more, waving over her shoulder. ‘Bye for now!’

‘Shall we go inside?’ her dad asked, putting an arm around her shoulder. ‘As you’ll see, it’ll need a good clean up before you’ll really get to see its full potential,’ he said as she followed him through the doors. ‘I took the liberty of getting the power switched on, although from the survey it’s clear some rewiring will be necessary before you trust the electrics.’

Once inside, her dad fully opened the shutters and stood in the middle of the shop floor area, arms folded across his chest as he assessed the place and nodded. ‘Aye, I had to use my imagination on your behalf when I came to look at it the first time. But you see the potential, eh?’

For a few moments, Angelia stood, wide-eyed, gawping, open-mouthed as she watched the dust motes dancing in the light breeze they had brought in with them through the door. She wondered if she had perhaps bitten off more than she could chew. It looked so much worse than the photos in the online auction brochure. It was now clear why no locals had been prepared to bid on it. She wondered if it was going to be a major money pit and if she should seriously consider just selling it straight on to some other willing lunatic. As it was, it was a completely different prospect to the houses she had bought previously. They had been solely residential, or empty and newer commercial buildings, and most had only needed updating and a lick of paint before a family or service provider could move in, whereas, this place needed a complete overhaul.

She inhaled the musty smell of damp and her nose tickled. It’ll probably need fumigating, she thought as a feeling of dread crept over her when she spotted what appeared to be rodent droppings on the floor.

‘Don’t just stand there, Angelia, have a good look around. Get a feel for the place. Get your imagination working,’ her dad insisted. He had a point.

She began to wander around, and her dad flicked on some lights that did little to illuminate the space. Shelves partially lined the walls at one side, and a few old rickety tables were dotted around with boxes of goodness knows what sitting untouched and likely to remain so. The wall sconces held flickering candle-style bulbs that gave out about as much light as the thing they mimicked. No good for this day and age. Maybe that had been quite fitting when the place had been filled with antiques and curios, but they were enough to ruin your eyesight. At the back of the shop floor was a door and when Angelia poked her head through, she saw that it led out to a kitchen and toilet, so at least it had the important facilities. She decided to investigate those later but, surprisingly, the more she wandered around the more she could see past the grime and abandonment.

The old cash desk was dark wood and quite ornately carved on the front like something out of a Victorian film set. Even better was the old register with its brass buttons and prices in pounds, shillings and pence. How has that not been taken and put into a museum? she pondered. She was grateful, however, that it hadn’t as it was a beautiful old antique. She decided she would have to incorporate it into whatever design she decided to choose for the place. Ruby had informed her that one of her friends was a top-class interior designer and lived in the village, which was going to be very handy indeed.

‘You know what I think would be so cool in here?’ Meghan blurted and both Angelia and her dad turned to look at her, at which point her cheeks flamed and she winced. ‘Whoops, sorry, did I say that out loud? My bad.’ She held up her hands.

‘No, no, Meg, what were you going to say?’ Angelia asked with intrigue because her own mind was drawing a blank.

Meghan’s eyes lit up. ‘You know how you’re utterly obsessed with records? And how vinyl is making a major comeback right now?’

‘Aye, although they never went out of fashion in my opinion,’ Angelia’s dad said and it was true. Like Angelia’s, her dad’s record collection was his most prized possession, and it was played regularly on the old stacker system in the living room.

‘Go on, Meg,’ Angelia said.

‘Okay, so…’ Meghan began to walk around the shop gesturing. ‘Imagine listening booths here like they had in the 1960s and 70s. Then over here racks of vinyl, old, new, vintage, you name it. You could source them from all over the world. This counter is perfect for that retro feel. You could bag yourself some memorabilia from all the cool decades and hang them on the walls or use these old shelves. People love that kind of stuff. Posters on the walls, too, of all the past and present music stars. I think someone would snatch your hand off to rent a space like that so you could make a real good passive income.’ She shrugged as if it was obvious.

A wide smile spread across Angelia’s face. ‘Oh, my word, you’re right. That would be so ridiculously cool!’ she said as her heart skipped and she began to envisage Meghan’s idea. ‘But this is Glentorrin, not Edinburgh or Glasgow, would anyone realistically come here for records?’ she said rhetorically to no one in particular.

Meghan scoffed. ‘Can I just point out that Skye is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Scotland and people from all over the world come to visit? The business owner could offer a mail home service, so people didn’t have to carry their purchases with them on their travels. And if they stock some rare things people would come from miles around to buy from here. Record collectors are serious people.’

‘Do you really think they would?’ Angelia asked. ‘I mean, do you think someone would want to rent somewhere like that that’s already specifically set up as a record store?’

‘I think Meghan has a point,’ Angelia’s dad said. ‘It would give the place a real purpose. And if you do it just right, it could be amazing. There’s plenty of parking in the main village so that wouldn’t be an issue. Add to it that this is the first village you come to when you cross the Skye Bridge, and the last one as you leave, and I think you could be onto a winner. People love to support independent shops. It could be really good. And like Meghan says, the passive income you’d get from the rent would be great for when you’re back touring again, seeing as you choose not to profit from your other properties.’

She was happy that everyone seemed to be confident she would be back out on tour again soon, but she was still unsure as to when that might actually be. But another income that she could make good use of for charity work would be welcomed. Not to mention the fact that if she wasn’t able to go back on tour again the income would be needed, eventually, to live once the royalties slowed down or even stopped.

‘I think I’ll contact the interior designer Ruby mentioned and have a wee chat with her.’ Angelia was excited for the first time in a few weeks and could hardly wait to find out what could be done with the old shop.

10

Back at home later that morning, Angelia was lounging on the sofa looking at images of vintage record shops on her phone and creating a Pinterest mood board with her favourites, while Scrappy lay fast asleep and snuggled into her side. Why hadn’t she thought of it herself? It was such an obvious suggestion now she thought about it. She had been obsessed with records since she was wee, and she knew that record collecting was a popular thing to do these days. In her opinion you just couldn’t beat the sound quality of vinyl. It wasn’t the crispest sound but there was something so comforting about it. The nostalgia produced by the scratch of a needle on the vinyl was immense.

Meanwhile her mum and her dad were out tidying the back garden, which Angelia knew to be code for talking things through. They were still coming to terms with the fact that their daughter was facing a future filled with many changes that they couldn’t really help with, and it had been hard for them both. They weren’t overbearing at all, but they did like to problem solve. The fact that this was a problem with little to no absolute solution was vexing for them.

Angelia glanced around the room at the family photos dotted here and there; photos she could remember being taken and the emotions that went along with them. And the paintings of local scenes on Skye that she adored. The rocky, otherworldly images of the Quiraing and the Cuillin; the dramatic palette of colours of the sky at sunrise and the cerulean blue of summer all held a special place in her heart. It was comforting to be back in the little detached bothy conversion she’d shared with her parents while growing up. Things felt normal here.

Her luxury apartment in North West London had been the first thing she had purchased when her finances had allowed, she was certainly her father’s daughter, and while ‘the big smoke’ had become her second home it wasn’t quite the same as her real home. For the last decade she had spent most of her time flitting between her place in London and hotels in New York when she was recording and not on tour with the band, with only short visits back to Skye. Often, in the past, she’d flown her parents out to stay with her in the USA or Europe, and they’d explored the vibrant city locations together until she’d become too famous to leave the hotel in those places without some kind of security. Skye offered her a reminder of the life she’d had growing up and it was a welcome change. Far less complicated.

Her phone rang and Ed’s name flashed up on the screen. Angelia sat up straight as her heart skipped and she immediately hit the button to accept his call.

‘Hey, Angelia, how are you?’ he asked, his voice croaky with sleep.

‘Hi, Ed, I’m okay, I think. How come you’re phoning so early? It must be 6.30 a.m. in New York?’

‘Yeah, I’m going to be heading out soon and I wanted to give you a call before I set off. Fiona messaged to say she’s coming to visit you today. I wish I could come too. I’m missing you guys like mad.’

Angelia swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat on hearing the sadness in his voice. ‘Missing you too,’ she replied.