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His parents’ place—his old home—was just a few minutes’ walk away. A sprawling, Spanish-style villa on the other side of the Faernish junction. It looked out across Fachan’s Bay towards the lighthouse at Rubha an t-Solais. Beyond lay the uninhabited islands of Killegray and Scarba. Picture perfect. Though he’d spent most of his teen years trying to get away from it.

He breezed into his mum and dad’s house with a spring in his step. The smell of fresh coffee and something toasty—bread, maybe—was already in the air, along with the low hum of voices from the kitchen.

“Ruairidh!” his mum called out happily, wrapping him in a hug as he came through the door. His dad and Màiri were there too. His dad sat at the kitchen table, buried in today’s paper, while Màiri was draped across the sofa in her dressing gown, clutching a giant mug of tea like it held the meaning of life.

The kitchen had always been the heart of the house. It was the biggest room by far, complete with the usual cupboards and gadgets, a big dining table, and a pair of cosy sofas tucked into one corner. Most of their family life had played out right here—dinners, visitors popping in for a whisky or a cuppa, card games, birthday breakfasts, pre-drinks with pals. All of it. Right here.

“Well, I promised you brunch, didn’t I?” his mum said, already halfway to the fridge. “So, what’ll it be—French toast, pancakes, full Scottish? I’ve already got a load of pancakes and bacon on for Màiri anyway.”

“Hmm, pancakes and bacon, please,” he said, flopping onto the other sofa, opposite Màiri.

“Coffee just now or will you wait?”

“I’ll take some now—if there’s any left in the pot.”

“Seumas, pour Ruairidh a cup and take it over to him, will you?” she said to his dad without missing a beat.

“Yes, your ladyship,” his dad replied with a mock bow, as he reached for the pot of coffee and poured a generous mug. “Our young lord must’ve had a tough night partying while we did all the hard work.”

“Taing,” Ruairidh said, accepting the mug gratefully. “You heading out on the boat later?”

“Was thinking about it. Fancy coming?”

“Aye, why not.”

When they were kids, his dad had worked away at sea—same as Donnie and Màiri’s boyfriend, Dol, did now—but they also had a small family boat. Whenever he was home, his dad took them out on the water at every opportunity. Summers were spent island-hopping, camping, having picnics on hidden beaches. Sand in the sandwiches, midges in the sleeping bags. Proper island summers.

Ruairidh liked being out on the water. Always had. But while Donnie took to boats like a seal to the sea, Ruairidh’s head had always been in the clouds. Literally. It was the sky, not the ocean, that made him feel at home. Donnie had been steering the family boat solo before they were even teenagers. Natural sailor. Born for it.

“Oh, and were the kids good last night?” he remembered to ask. His parents had babysat for Cairistìona and Robert while they were at the dance.

“Och, no trouble as usual,” his mum said cheerfully. “I think Cairistìona was glad to come home when she did, though—she was a wee bit tipsy! But she got a long lie this morning, and we sorted the kids. Even brought her and Robert breakfast in bed, so they were especially grateful.”

“And now you’re feeding me and Màiri. It’s like we never left,” Ruairidh said, grinning.

“Ach, I don’t mind.” She smiled as she whisked more pancake batter. “So, what was the chat last night then? Màiri’s only just surfaced—hasn’t said much.”

Ruairidh looked over at Màiri. She gave him that too-sweet smile that always meant trouble. No way she was letting him off the hook. Question was—did he want to get in front of it?

“It was a good night,” he said, keeping it light. “Decent crowd. Dance seems to be growing every year.”

“Aye, they make a fair bit from it now, don’t they, the lads?” his dad chimed in from behind the paper.

“Definitely. The bar takings alone must be wild—never mind the raffles and entry fees.”

“So, who were you there with?” his mum asked, eyes still on the batter but ears on full alert.

“Well, Ally and I started in the Dhu, then headed over. Ended up sitting with Màiri and her lot for most of the night.”

“Oh, really?” She looked up from the pan, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Weren’t you out with Jenn and Lizzie?” she asked Màiri, catching the scent of possible gossip.

“Yes, I was,” Màiri replied with a smirk. “Cairistìona, MT, and Cathy Ann came too—but they left after the dance. Jenn’s best friend, Vivi, was visiting, so she came along as well.”

“Oh, what was she like?” his mum asked, flipping pancakes, but clearly itching for details.

“Loved her. Great fun. Did you know she once got off with JJ Campbell?” Màiri laughed.