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Aclatter broke the quiet. Calum looked down at the cracked fragments of the blue pottery cup. Tea pooled across the oak laminate floor, and he clenched his free fist, taking a deep breath.
‘Are you ok?’ Rebekah’s concerned voice asked from the phone.
‘Just knocked over my mug.’ He tsked. His mum had given him that as part of a set when he got his first property.Ah well, never mind.With a little shrug, he grabbed a dishcloth from the tiny kitchen corner of his revamped shipping container office. Typical, he had to break a nice one. ‘Listen, I better go. I’ll let you know more once I’ve investigated.’
‘Ok, keep me posted,’ said Rebekah.
Calum dropped the phone on the desk and stooped to mop the floor. Another mess. Much like everything else at the moment. He tossed the sopping cloth in the sink.
A knock on the glass door. He glanced around. The door clicked open and a smiling face peered in. ‘Good morning.’
‘Morning, Will. Watch the floor’s wet. I just launched my tea over it.’
‘Temper, temper.’ Will placed his knuckles on his hips and shook his head. ‘Why did you do that?’ His boyish grin widened.
‘It was an accident.’
‘Oops.’
‘Yup. But I’ve mopped it up.’
‘You lead such a glamorous life.’ Will smirked, closing the door behind him and perching on the spare desk in the corner.
‘Don’t I just. And it’s not even ten o’clock.’
‘The trials and tribulations of the Isle of Mull’s favourite property mogul.’
‘Hardly.’ Calum swept up the mug shards and, with the smallest hesitation, dropped them into the bin. ‘So, what are you doing here?’ He thrust his hands into the pockets of his navy blazer and leaned back on his desk, crossing his long legs.
‘I have a favour to ask,’ said Will.
‘Shocker.’
‘What do you mean?’ Will pressed his palm to his chest in mock offence. ‘You think your oldest pal only visits you when he needs a favour?’
‘Something like that. Now what is it?’
‘It’s the Midsummer fair next month and we’re after donations for the raffle. So, what can property king Calum give us?’
‘A contract to clean the Tobermory flats for a week?’
‘Haha,’ said Will, ‘But no. How about a bottle of whisky?’
‘Why don’t you go down the hill and ask the distillery for that? If I giveyoua bottle of whisky, it’ll never see the light of day again.’
Will folded his arms and attempted a stern look.
‘No? All right, fifty quid to spend somewhere on the island.’ Calum ran his fingers through his short dark hair.
‘Perfect.’ Will pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll note that down.’
‘Right, is that all?’ Calum glanced towards the view behind the French doors. His luxury spend in the otherwise utilitarian setup. ‘Because I need to get on. I have some information to email to Rebekah.’ The tip of the iceberg on his crazy to-do list.
‘Pity things didn’t work out there,’ said Will.
‘They worked out fine.’ Calum pulled out his seat and woke his laptop. ‘We’re friends and that’s all we ever were.’
He ignored Will’s sceptical expression. Rebekah was water under the bridge. Their dates had been ok. She was intelligent so the chat had been good. He’d liked her, yes, but the fire of passion wasn’t there. Was it ever? His mum said he was too fussy. He disagreed, he just didn’t enjoy intimacy, until he was sure he’d made a real emotional connection. There was the rub. How did you achieve that?
