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‘Right? Nothing in Loch Cameron is ever knowingly under-catered, I find,’ Zelda chuckled. ‘Every time I visit, I put on, like, at least six pounds.’
‘So, you don’t live here?’ Carrie poured some tea from the cute jacketed teapot into a spare clean mug and added a splash of milk.
‘No. I live in New York but I’m seeing someone here, so we kinda go back and forth right now,’ Zelda explained. ‘I mean, in the future, maybe. It’s his family home and he’s always gonna want to end up here. I guess we’re just taking it slow and we’ll see what happens.’
‘Sounds nice, though. New York and Loch Cameron. The big smoke and the rural idyll.’
‘Yeah, it’s a nice position to be in. I’m not complaining. I do wish I could see more of Hal, but we don’t do too badly.’
‘We’re just about to start, just to let you know.’ June tapped Carrie on the shoulder. ‘Ah. Is Zelda telling you all about how she caught the most eligible man in Scotland?’ She laughed.
Zelda blushed. ‘June! I didn’tcatchhim. He’s not a salmon.’
‘No, he’s a wealthy landowner with a castle, a salmon farm and various other businesses.’ June raised her eyebrow playfully. ‘And he’s pretty easy on the eye, too,’ she added, for Carrie’s benefit.
‘June!’ Zelda protested, grinning.
‘Oh, are you saying that Hal isn’t attractive?’ June teased Zelda.
‘Of course not. He’s gorgeous,’ Zelda sighed and patted her heart. ‘I’m very lucky.’
‘Not at all, hen. He’s the lucky one,’ June chuckled. ‘I’m just teasing Zelda. She’s made our Laird very happy, and long may that continue.’
‘You’re seeing the Laird?’ Carrie turned to Zelda, sipping her tea. ‘I’m impressed. Though I always think of lairds as paunchy old men with red noses.’
‘Oh, no. He’s our age. And he’s hot,’ Zelda laughed.
‘Good for you!’ Carrie finished the brownie in two large bites.
‘Thanks. Are you seeing anyone?’ Zelda asked.
Carrie shook her head. ‘Not right now,’ she said, making it sound like she dated all the time.
In fact, she’d never really had a boyfriend. She’d dated a little, but it never seemed to come to anything. Without realising, over the years, she’d given up trying. She’d assumed that she and Claire would probably grow old together and share a house again at some point. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a boyfriend, or someone to love. It was more the fact that she and Claire were so close, she’d never really let anyone else in. That, and she’d never really had much confidence with men.
Then Claire had started seeing Graham, and he’d come between them. Carrie could admit that she’d resented Graham and Claire for falling in love.When you know, you know, Claire had said, all starry-eyed. But Carrie hadn’t understood. She’d been mean. She’d said things she shouldn’t have. She regretted being stand-offish and cold about it now.
Carrie hadn’t spoken to Graham since the crash. He’d called her, but despite the fact that Carrie knew he was a good man and he’d loved Claire, she wasn’t ready to talk to him.
Claire had sometimes joked that she was Carrie’s emotional support pillow, and Carrie was hers. Now that Claire was gone, where did that leave Carrie? Without her sister, Carrie had no one, and she was lonely. But the idea of finding a man – even someone as wonderful as Zelda’s Laird sounded – felt impossible.
No, it was far more likely that she’d end up like Great-Aunt Maud, alone in a cottage somewhere, making jam and sleeping alone with just the sound of the birds for company. Carrie sighed, and put her cup and plate back on the table. She didn’t especially feel like singing now, but it would be rude to back out after eating a brownie and talking to June and Zelda. They’d been so kind.
Plus, it was possible she might actually enjoy it.
EIGHT
‘Any experience?’ Rory looked up from Carrie’s one-page resumé. ‘In kitchens, I mean. I can see you’ve temped a lot. Unfortunately, this job doesn’t require you to do mail merges or…’ he cast his eye back over the paper, ‘… Excel spreadsheets. To be honest, I’m not sure what one of those is, either.’
They were sitting at one of the tables in Rory’s restaurant, The Fat Hen. It was a small place with about ten tables, with white-painted brick walls displaying modern paintings. Overall, the look was clean and sophisticated, which had surprised Carrie when she’d walked in.
‘I worked in a restaurant at university. Part time,’ Carrie said. ‘It was a while back, though. General washing up, clearing tables, taking orders. But it wasn’t anywhere fancy.’
She’d decided to apply for the job after she’d seen one of Rory’s flyers at the community centre after choir. Rather than ending up embarrassing herself with what she thought was probably some not very tuneful singing, Carrie had actually walked out of the community centre with a spring in her step for the first time since the accident.
Singing along with the group had felt good. No, actually, it had felt great. She’d experienced a kind of release while singing that was like crying; it was a way to vent her emotions a little, and after they’d finished going through the medley fromLes Misérables, the act of singing had made her feel more focused and less sad.
She’d called Rory’s number as she’d walked home, and he’d asked her to come in the next day for an interview.
