Page 21 of The Castle in the Bay

‘Sure.’

Maybe it was just her imagination, but his fingers seemed to tremble as he held out the plaster and positioned it over the cut. His fingers brushed her, and she inhaled sharply, but not because of the pain. The gentle pressure of his touch was worryingly arousing. She didn’t need to feel anything like that for him.

‘There.’ He stepped back, and she dropped her shirt.

‘Thanks.’ She caught his eye, and they gazed at each other for longer than was strictly necessary, but something in his deep, dark pupils held her fast. ‘Not bad for a banker.’

He gave her a little salute.

They stood for a moment longer before Iona took a step away. ‘We should get off the boat.’

‘Yeah… We should,’ Monty agreed, but his eyes lingered on her and goosebumps erupted on her arms. What the hell was happening to her? He was not her type, and she was determined not to change her mind about that.

Chapter Nine

Monty

Monty stepped out of the annex at An Grianan into the fresh evening air. The sun was still casting its golden glow over the horizon, a glorious reminder of the long summer days in Scotland. He got out his phone and took a photo, hoping to catch the colours – no filter needed.

His father’s ashes were gone, but Monty still had that uncertain, neither-here-nor-there feeling. The closure he’dhoped for hadn’t really happened. If anything, he felt even more confused.

He strolled along a vaguely trodden path through the grass and the thick bracken, following the gentle crash of the waves beyond. For someone who didn’t like water, it was surprising how much the sea called to him. Was this how stories about sirens luring sailors into the ocean had started? Something about the sea was magnetic. As he reached the edge of grass where it met the sand, the view opened up before him. The sparkling turquoise sea, dotted with rocky outcrops, glittered in the evening sun.

Monty took out his phone again, half certain no picture or film would do this justice. The way the light danced and twinkled was magical. He adjusted the settings, hoping to capture at least something of it. He wasn’t a big user of social media, but this was something he wanted to share, maybe with a brief reference to his dad. Somewhere in the back of his mind, another thought lingered. Sophie might see it. She loved social media and posted pictures almost every day.

Monty could easily keep up with what she was doing – as could the rest of the world.

He found a raised spot on the edge of the sand and sat down, leaning back on his hands and gazing out to sea. The waves rolled in gently, like a rhythmic lullaby. He let his eyelids fall closed for a moment, soaking in the pure calm. He breathed the sea air, and his body relaxed, tension falling from his chest and shoulders.

When he opened his eyes, he scrolled through the pictures in his phone’s gallery. He should have some of the castle. Maybe he should make another trip there before he left, and actually look at it this time. He’d been so taken up with the ashes that he hadn’t focused on much else. Also, if those wristbands worked, he might even enjoy the trip over, get some nice photos, and notspend the whole time feeling nauseous. Not that he particularly wanted to ask Iona to take him again. He’d already caused her enough grief… though she’d been a lot nicer since she’d learned about his reasons for being here.

He selected a few photos and wrote a brief caption:Scattered Dad’s ashes at Kisimul Castle today. A beautiful place for a final goodbye. Miss him every day.

His finger hovered for a moment before hitting the upload button. Should he share this? Did people really need to know? But it was a way of acknowledging the day’s significance, and he wanted to do that. He had cousins as friends on here, along with people who’d known him for a long time; they’d be interested, and happy to know he’d done the task he set out to do. He hitpost, put the phone flat on the grass, then lay on his side, propping his head on his hand.

After a few minutes of listening to the waves, curiosity got the better of him, and he turned on the phone without lifting it off the grass. His fingers led him directly to Sophie’s page. Her profile was as busy as ever, filled with pictures of her looking glamorous. It appeared she’d used today’s sunshine to meet with friends. A cocktail in hand, and a wide, red-lipsticked smile on her face told him she was out living her best life and not missing him at all.

A pang of something he couldn’t quite identify struck him in the chest. Jealousy, perhaps, or a sense of being left behind? Sophie had moved on so easily. Did she ever think about him?

He took a deep breath, looking out to the sea. What were the chances of her actually wanting to get back together? Was it a fool’s hope? Probably, but he could give himself a fighting chance. What if he took up Iona’s offer and learned to paddleboard? Could he bear to get in the sea? His insides squirmed at the thought, but another sensation sparked at the thought of Sophie’s reaction if, in a few days’ time, he postedpictures of himself boarding out to sea. He huffed out a laugh. Like he’d ever manage that.

Something rustled the grass behind him and a cold, wet nose nudged his hand. He looked up to see a liver-coloured dog sniffing around him, its tail wagging.

‘Hey there,’ Monty murmured, giving the dog a gentle pat. ‘You’re Catriona’s dog, aren’t you?’ The dog’s tail wagged even harder, and it sniffed the ground around Monty’s phone.

‘Scamp!’ a woman’s voice called out. Monty turned, expecting to see Catriona, but it was Iona striding through the bracken. She had a slightly annoyed expression and froze when she saw him. ‘Oh, it’s you. I wondered who he’d snuck up on. I always worry when he finds someone lying on the beach.’

‘Um, yeah.’ Monty frowned.

‘Well, it might be a dead body, or people getting down and dirty in the sand. And personally, I wouldn’t like to discover either.’

‘No, I imagine not.’ Monty pulled himself into a sitting position and scratched the dog behind the ears. ‘He’s friendly.’

‘Friendly, nosey, and with no sense of personal space or boundaries.’ Iona sighed and plopped down on the grass beside Monty. ‘Go and run.’ She gave Scamp a gentle prod and shooed him onto the sand. ‘God, I’m so hacked off.’

Monty raised an eyebrow. ‘With me?’

‘No.’ She gave him a sharp look, then grinned. ‘Unless you’re planning on knocking me over again.’

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