AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘So true.’ Rhona pulled out her phone and googledCalum Matheson. ‘There’s an email here for his property business.’
‘Go on then. You may as well. If he says no, then so what? It doesn’t change much.’
‘True.’ Except it would cut off the chance of doing something she’d dreamed about since she was a child.Be prepared.Becausenowould most likely be his answer. She thumbed out a message and a thrill of wine-charged adrenaline rushed through her as the words flowed. What a rebel! The remnants of the old crush lingered, setting her heart fluttering. This was like sending him an unsigned valentine card; the problem was he’d know exactly who sent it. Well, damn it, if he didn’t want her help, he could ignore the message and continue to hate her.
‘Right, done.’ She smacked her phone onto the table. ‘Now, let’s forget about it and enjoy our lunch. Tell me about the new house you’re building. You don’t need an archaeologist too, do you?’
‘No. Our planning was passed without any conditions. You should come and see it, though it’s a building site just now.’
‘I’ll borrow Mum’s car one day and nip down. That’s the problem not having a car here. But it does mean I can drink all afternoon and call Dad’s taxi when I’m ready.’
They left the hotel some hours later, Rhona happily tipsy. She hugged Kirsten goodbye twice and almost twisted her ankle as she approached her dad’s car. Maybe she’d over-boarded a little on the wine.
‘Are you drunk?’ Alister frowned and peered at her. His nose twitched like he was sniffing the air.
‘Maybe a little. Sorry, Daddy.’ She clutched his arm and cuddled him. ‘But I do love you. You’re the best daddy in the whole wide world.’
‘Oh, Rhona, Rhona. What will we do with you? It’s time you grew out of this kind of thing and got a job.’
‘Yes. That’s right. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m on it, Daddy.’
He gave her a half-exasperated, half-amused smile and she beamed back.
Chapter 6
Calum
Smoke curled from behind the hedge of the uninspiring semi-detached house. Its steeply pitched grey roof was deeper than the building’s low-slung body and two dormer windows sat side by side. The one on the left was Calum’s old room. He pulled up in the gravelled parking area, separated from the house by a path and a hedge. Gulls squawked alongside the familiar roar of the car-ferry engines firing up. Calum zapped his 4X4. The ferry times were ingrained in his brain. When he’d lived in this house as a child, he set his watch by them.
If he had his way, he’d take his parents out of here and set them up somewhere a bit grander or at least a bit more private. This little row of ex-council houses was so close to the ferry that all and sundry wandered past in the summer months. But his parents were having none of it. They’d always lived here and they liked it.
Calum tucked his white shirt into the back of his tight jeans and nipped up the verge. In the front garden, the barbecue smoked in the middle of a circle of deckchairs. A little gazebo stood to the left and among the garish bunting was a huge banner reading ‘Happy Birthday’. Calum half closed his eyes and flexed his hands before opening the gate. So much for a quiet celebration.
‘Happy birthday!’
A pair of arms grabbed him from behind the hedge and dragged him down, clinging around his neck. ‘Seriously, Mum.’ He stood rigid. ‘I can’t breathe.’
‘Happy birthday to my most gorgeous boy.’ She planted a huge kiss on his cheek, then pinched it like he was a toddler. ‘You really are the handsomest boy that ever was.’
‘Thanks.’ He returned her hug briefly. ‘I didn’t need all this. I thought it was just a barbecue.’
‘Would I let one of your birthdays pass without doing something?’ She flicked her angular fringe off her face.
‘Apparently not.’
‘Too right.’ She beamed. ‘You deserve it. It’s a special birthday after all.’
‘Since when was thirty-three a special birthday?’
‘Since I said so.’ She headed towards the house, her bright-yellow dress contrasting with her burgundy hair. ‘Ron, where are you?’ Anne was a well-known face on the island, not just because of her colourful hair and quirky dress sense, but because she worked in the shop two minutes from their house; often the first and last place on the island people visited. She’d cut down to part-time hours now but Calum expected her to be working there when she hit ninety, she enjoyed it so much.
‘There you are, son.’ Ron stalked out of the house, his beefy arms and short chunky legs covered in tattoos, shown off by his terrible taste in Bermudas and his wrestler vest. His bald head glinted in the sun as he clapped Calum on the back. ‘Happy birthday. You’re getting old. Any greys yet? Or have you started wearing a toupee so you don’t end up like your old man?’ His laugh rumbled.
Calum’s lip quirked up. ‘So, have you invited people here?’ He dreaded the answer. Being alone with his parents would suit him fine, but they loved company.
‘Just my friend, Joyce,’ said Anne, ‘and her husband, Neil.’
‘Good.’ His shoulders relaxed. They were harmless people. ‘I’m having a drink with Will later so I can’t stay.’ He should have guessed they’d put on a big do.
