Page 14 of The Castle in the Bay

Monty gave her another little smile. She wished he wouldn’t. Something about that look flipped her insides like a pancake and made her oddly giddy.

She headed back to the kitchen and filled up a pint glass of water. As she sipped it, she watched Alex and Catriona through the window. Alex looked like he was describing something to Catriona, but she wasn’t making eye contact, and her expression was stony. Iona’s gaze travelled back to the breakfast room, and she saw Monty packing up his things, standing up and adjusting his glasses.

‘Time to get this over with,’ she muttered under her breath.

Twenty minutes later, Iona climbed into the driver’s seat of the car, waiting as Monty settled in beside her. The engine growled to life, and they set off towards Castlebay and the marina. Should she say something? But what? It wasn’t like they had a lot in common. Make that nothing. But sitting like this without talking was weird. She normally made small talk without even thinking, but nothing was coming to her today.

‘So, what is it you do?’ she asked, forcing out the words to what was probably the most stupid and boring question, but it was that or ask about his family and she really didn’t want to listen to family history stories. They reminded her too much of her mother. She’d been obsessed with genealogy and ancestry to the point where it was more important than the present. Unfortunately, Iona hadn’t lived up to their family standard. She wasn’t a great doctor, a missionary, a pioneering scientist, or anything of note like everyone else on her family tree apparently was. She’d disgraced her family instead – in so many ways.

‘I work in banking.’ Monty leaned his elbow on the windowsill and ran his fingers through his hair. The movement disturbed the air and diffused a rather pleasant scent around the car and she didn’t want to find anything about him attractive.

‘Banking?’ She bit back a yawn. ‘Oh yeah, I remember now. You said to Catriona, didn’t you? I bet that’s fun.’

He huffed out a laugh. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say fun exactly, but it has its moments. It can get pretty intense with the current economic climate.’

Iona nodded. ‘Hmm.’ How dry did that sound? Pencil-pushing at its finest. So like Tom – that scumbag of an ex. Her mind wandered back to her civil service days. The endless reports, the mountains of paperwork, and the constant pressure to perform. Her failure to succeed made her cringe inwardly.

‘Sometimes you have to make quick decisions that can impact a lot of people,’ Monty said. ‘I guess that’s about as exciting as it gets.’

‘Sounds… challenging.’ Iona kept her eyes on the road. This was Tom all over again. He’d lived and breathed numbers… When he wasn’t sleeping around and cheating, that was. This time, Iona wouldn’t be getting anywhere near close enough to be burned.

‘It is challenging, yes, but it can be rewarding too, knowing you’re making a difference, helping people secure their futures.’

She only just resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. Helping people? Yeah right! How noble did he make it sound? But she doubted it was as fulfilling as he made it out to be. More likely, he was simply justifying the long hours and stress. She’d had enough of that kind of life. She’d learned her lesson the hard way, and she wasn’t going back.

They reached the marina, and she parked the car in the uneven car park near the walkway to the jetty. Monty got out, looking around; his smile had faded. The slight pink on his cheeks had dulled to an almost grey colour. He clutched a backpack in his arms.

‘Let’s get going then.’ She unlocked a little gate and headed along a suspended walkway that led down to the jetty. When she reached the steps, she turned back.

Monty was edging his way slowly along, his eyes pinned forward like he didn’t want to look at the water below him on either side. She sensed him taking deep breaths. Surely, he wouldn’t get seasick on a short crossing like this? Though it could get choppy even here, especially in a boat as small as hers. She carried on down the stairs and along the jetty, then hopped aboard her little boat: a small tender driven from a wheel in the middle behind a tiny cabin in the front. She gestured for Montyto follow. He hesitated, still taking deep breaths and clutching his bag tighter.

‘Are you coming?’

‘Yeah.’ Inhaling deeply, he stepped aboard, steadying himself on the windshield at the helm.

‘You need to put this on.’ She handed him a buoyancy aid, then pulled on her own and clipped it up. Monty had put his bag on the floor and was looking at the buoyancy aid as if uncertain which way it went. She turned it the right way. ‘Like that.’

He zipped it up and frowned.

‘You can sit there.’ Iona pointed to a bench near the stern. ‘And hold on. It’s nice and calm, but there are always some waves.’

Monty nodded, his face another notch paler. He settled onto the bench, gripping the edge of the seat and clinging onto his bag. What was in there?

Iona started the engine and guided the boat out of the marina. The light waves slapped against the hull, and the boat rocked with the impact. She glanced back at Monty, who was staring fixedly at a point on the horizon, his knuckles white.

‘You ok?’ she called over the noise of the engine and the sea.

He gave a weak nod but didn’t speak. His lips were pressed together in a thin line.

‘If you’re going to be sick, do it over the side.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘We don’t want to be cleaning that up.’

Monty’s eyes flicked to her, and all the humour drained from his expression, before he turned his gaze back to the horizon.

‘We’ll be there shortly,’ Iona said. ‘It’s really not far.’

She could see him breathing deeply, steadying himself, and she shook her head. Honestly, was it that bad? Just in the bay? She stood at the helm, steering towards the castle. After all the buildup, he wasn’t even looking. This was a photo-worthy moment, but he was missing it.

Was he really that ill? He must be. It made no sense why he was putting himself through this. His sad expression gave her a twinge in her chest. Just like she hadn’t been able to leave him to fix the tyre himself, she couldn’t ignore his pain now either. Something in his eyes said this was more than just seasickness, but what? Surely, he didn’t think he had empathic powers and was channelling a dead ancestor from the castle? That would be too woo-woo for her.

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