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There was something in his expression that made her feel self-conscious, so she looked away again. Plus, he’d called her pretty, and she didn’t know how to respond to that apart from either laugh in his face or blush, and neither was a great response. It had been a long time since Carrie had even thought about trying to look pretty. Pretty wasn’t exactly top of her agenda right now. Was he flirting with her? If so, it had been so long since that had happened that Carrie didn’t know what to say in return. She certainly didn’t feel pretty with her hair all windblown, wearing no makeup and clothes she’d chosen for warmth rather than style. At least she’d taken off her parka, she supposed.
‘Ummm. Thanks,’ she muttered, and ate some soup to avoid having to say anything more.
‘Anytime.’ He drained the rest of his coffee and stood up. ‘Listen. If you change your mind about wanting a job, my number’s on there. Or if you want to call me for any other reason,’ he added, with a wry smile.
Before Carrie could think of a response, Rory had waved a goodbye to Eric, left some money on the counter for his coffee, and had bounded energetically out to the front desk where Carrie could hear him talking to Dotty.
‘Ye dinnae need tae mind Rory.’ Eric came over to pick up the money Rory had left behind. ‘Though, I hafta say, I’ve not seen him flirt with a lassie before. Usually, he keeps himself to himself. Bit of a cold fish.’
‘Oh. I don’t think he was flirting.’ Carrie blushed, instantly embarrassed.
‘Hmm. Well, I’m a man, and though I’m well past ma flirtin’ days, I recognise it when I see it,’ Eric chuckled. ‘And why wouldn’t he, eh? Lovely lassie like you.’
‘I really don’t think he was,’ Carrie insisted.
‘All right, have it yer way.’ Eric raised an eyebrow and opened a box of crisps, stuffing the individual packs into a cubbyhole under the bar.
Despite the fact that Carrie had avoided talking to him as much as possible, therewassomething about Rory McCrae that she’d felt herself respond to: something in his wry smile and the twinkle in his eye. He was an attractive man, but it was more than that. There was a certain energy around Rory that she liked.
But what point was there in getting interested in someone in a little village you only intended to hide away from the outside world in?
Still, as she finished her soup, Carrie folded up the leaflet with the job details that Rory had left behind, and slipped it into her pocket. Possibly, it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to earn a little money if she was going to stay in Loch Cameron for any amount of time: she only had a certain amount of savings, and they would dwindle quickly without a job.
It seemed highly unlikely that Rory McCrae had been flirting with her – she looked an absolute state and she hadn’t exactly been nice to the man. Perhaps he was desperate for someone to take the job. She could probably do it and just ignore him; get on with peeling potatoes and washing up, or whatever else a kitchen assistant job entailed. If she was honest, she could probably do with a mindless something to keep her hands occupied, at least for some of the week, or there was a distinct possibility that she might never come out of the cottage again. She’d realised, being out today, that she needed to get out more. It was scary, but it wasn’t as scary as she’d expected.
Be brave, she told herself.At least think about applying for the job.
Claire would have told her to do it. And Great-Aunt Maud would have positively encouraged it, being such a keen cook herself.
Who knows? You might enjoy it,Claire’s voice said in her head, suddenly. It wasn’t the first time that Carrie had imagined her sister’s voice since she’d died, but it was possibly the first time that Claire’s voice had come to her, unbidden, as if her sister had been standing next to her.
Fine. I’ll think about it, Carrie thought, as if replying to Claire. And even the sense that therewasstill someone to reply to – even though she knew there wasn’t – gave Carrie a brief sense of peace.
SEVEN
Carrie was passing the community centre, on her way back to the cottage from the shops, when she heard the sound of singing. She stopped on the high street outside the squat little building and listened for a moment, realising that she knew the song – an old one from a musical she liked. Carrie hummed along under her breath, smiling.
As she stood there, taking a break from walking for a moment and letting her collarbone have a rest, the singing stopped, and Angus, her tall, bearded Viking-like neighbour, emerged from the porch entrance of the centre, taking out his phone and peering at it.
He looked up and caught her eye. ‘Ah, Carrie! Hello!’ he called out, waving. He walked over to where she was standing by the black cast iron railings that surrounded the community centre. ‘Angus. Yer neighbour,’ he reminded her, though she hardly needed it – they’d met a matter of hours ago. ‘I’m just on a wee break fromLes Misérables. Choir practice,’ he added. ‘Remember I mentioned it? We meet every week.’
‘Hi, Angus. Yes, I remember.’ She smiled up at her neighbour, who must have been at least six foot five or more. Carrie doubted Angus would ever hurt a fly, but if she hadn’t already met him and seen him walking along the street with a frown on his craggy face, she would have probably thought he was the local tough guy.
‘Just tryin’ tae get ma local odd-jobs woman tae come an’ have a look at a plumbin’ issue I cannae sort out at home. How was your trip intae town? Get what ye wanted from the shops?’ He looked inquisitively at her empty hands. She hadn’t been to the shop yet; hunger had overtaken her first.
‘Not bad,’ Carrie said, evasively. ‘I just had some lunch at the inn, then I was going to pop into the shops.’
‘Were ye wantin’ tae come in? Yer more than welcome.’ Angus indicated the little brick building behind him. ‘They’re just havin’ a cuppa right now, and then we’ll get back tae it. Yer welcome tae come an’ have a bit o’ a sing song. Nae pressure tae join.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ Carrie said, on instinct.
‘The supermarket can probably wait, unless ye’ve got a lot on fer the rest o’ the day.’ Angus raised an eyebrow at her comfy grey joggers and cat sweatshirt.
‘Well, no, not exactly…’ She’d been intending to go home and get back into bed.
‘Well, yer welcome, if ye want a bit o’ company.’ Angus gave her a warm smile, and then frowned at his phone. ‘Ah. I’ve got tae get this. Might see ye inside, then.’ He turned away a little and answered the call. ‘Ach, hello, Bess. Thanks fer callin’ me back.’
Carrie looked at the entrance to the community centre. In fact, it had been days since she’d had any company, and she was desperately lonely.
