Page 6 of The Castle in the Bay

‘Oh no.’ He held up his hands. ‘That’s definitely not for me. I like to stay dry.’

She chuckled. ‘Yeah, it’s not for everyone. My mum’s mum was a MacNeil. If it’s family trees you’re interested in, she might be able to help. She knows a lot about the family history. But shedoesn’t keep very well, so she might not be up for too many questions.’

‘That’s ok. I wouldn’t want to impose on anyone.’

‘Well, you enjoy your evening, and I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘See you.’ He turned the doorknob and opened the door to the annex. Inside it was pleasantly cool, with its simple furnishings. The white timber-framed bed was against the back wall under a canvas featuring a wide blue seascape.

Monty leaned over the wide windowsill and opened the little window, letting in the fresh sea air. He then collected his backpack and took out the urn containing his father’s ashes, placing it on the windowsill next to the piece of whalebone.

‘There you go. Back on Barra. And tomorrow I’ll try to get you to the castle.’ He dropped onto the sofa, listening to the distant murmur of the sea. His dad would have wanted to meet Catriona’s mum and discuss his theories about the Macneils, but Monty didn’t know enough to ask the right questions. And he wasn’t convinced any of his dad’s stories were true.

The cool breeze from the open window was soothing. It was early yet, but he didn’t feel like going out. The bed looked inviting, and he could read. If now wasn’t the time to readWhisky Galore, then when? The book was set on the island of Eriskay just a few miles north of Barra. That seemed ideal. Not that Monty would make it to that island in person. It involved a ferry ride and that was a no-no. A short boat trip to Kisimul Castle would be quite enough.

He moved to the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly to test the mattress. It wasn’t overly soft, and it didn’t creak, which was perfect for him. He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. Lying back, he stared at the wooden beams overhead. If he closed his eyes, he might sleep already, though he’d prefer it if he could sleep through the night insteadof randomly nodding off at eight thirty, when he’d probably be awake again by ten. But such was life at the moment.

The following morning, Monty made his way around the farmhouse to the main door. Hazy clouds had replaced the glorious sunshine from the day before and the breeze was stronger, rustling around the machair where the chickens pecked at some scattered seeds. A liver-coloured dog lay panting in the grass and it leapt up when it saw Monty, running over and wagging its tail.

‘Hello there.’ Monty gave it a quick pat as it sniffed around his ankles, then went inside and down the narrow hallway, following the sizzling scent of bacon more than the directions Catriona had given him. First door on the left. A stairway led up to the right and Monty heard someone coming down as well as voices from the room behind the door. He reached for the handle, but the door swung open before he could touch it. He stepped back quickly to avoid getting hit by the door and collided with someone behind him.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Monty spun around. His eyes almost popped out of his head. He was face to face with the woman from the day before – the same one he had knocked off her bike.Oh god. She was almost as tall as him and he was six foot one, so that was saying something. Her dark blue eyes narrowed, and she glared at him before letting out an exasperated sigh.

‘You,’ she muttered.

The heat in Monty’s neck stung.Great. Just great.She was staying here too. Bit rich her moaning about him being a tourist when she was obviously one herself. ‘I… Listen, I’m really sorry. Are you alright? I didn’t mean to—’

‘Yeah, I'm fine, thanks.’ She brushed past him. Without another word, she disappeared into the breakfast room. The people who’d opened the door had come into the hallway and were eyeing Monty.

‘I… um… well,’ he mumbled. Why was he such an idiot sometimes? Talk about embarrassing. With a deep breath, he made his way inside the breakfast room. It was bright with a wooden floor, a large dresser and the same rustic but homely feel the annex had, though it had slightly more mellow tones of yellow and umber in the curtains and table linen, rather than the crisp white of the annex. A large table was set with racks of toast, preserves, cereals, and a pot of tea.

A couple were sitting at the far side, and Catriona placed cooked breakfasts on large plates in front of them. The woman Monty had bumped into at the door wasn’t in the room. Where had she gone? There wasn’t exactly anywhere in here she could hide or keep out of sight.

Maybe he’d imagined her. If only that was the case. That way, he could imagine a normal interaction had taken place – not one where he’d collided with her again.

‘Morning, I hope you slept well,’ Catriona said. ‘Help yourself to whatever you fancy from the table, and I can cook you something too. Just tell me what you like. We have pretty much everything, eggs, bacon, sausages, black pudding, tattie scones, kippers. I can even do salmon if you like. And I’ve got vegan options.’

‘Thank you.’ Monty blinked, taking a seat. ‘Scrambled eggs on toast would be nice.’

‘With smoked salmon?’

‘Yes, please. That sounds good.’

She went into a backroom that was presumably the kitchen and Monty watched her, half-expecting the other woman to reappear. But why would she be in the private kitchen?

He gave the couple opposite a brief smile and they returned it before continuing their private chat as they tucked into their breakfasts.

Monty opened his phone and checked his messages. He should probably send one to his mother telling her he’d arrived, not that she’d be too bothered. She and his father had split a long time ago and she wasn’t interested in where his ashes went or what Monty did with them, but she would probably want to know he’d got here safely and was settled in.

Sipping his tea, he scrolled his messages, deliberately ignoring his work email app. This was a well-earned holiday from the daily grind of the financial world. The couple across from him were still chatting quietly but didn’t seem to want to include him, which was fine. He was happy with his own company for now. He pulled up the message thread with Sophie. His last message still sat there, unanswered. He sighed. Why was it so hard to accept that it was over? Only hard forhimto accept – she didn’t seem to have any difficulty with it. Every moment she was out in the world without him cut his heart, and he clung to a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could do something to win her back, though he had no idea what… or how.

He took a notebook out of his pocket and clicked a pen. Jotting down ideas helped clear his brain. Maybe he could think of some things he could do to impress her or please her… Or maybe he should just forget about her and move on. While he knew that was the sensible course of action, his heart wasn’t ready to let go.

The door creaked open, and he looked up to see Catriona. Beside her was the woman he’d now bumped into twice.Cringe.Where to look? Catriona was frowning slightly but had the ghost of a smile. The other woman, however, had her arms folded tightly across her chest, and was pursing her lips.

Ok.Monty held his breath. She did not look happy. Was he about to get an earful?

‘This is Iona McKenzie.’ Catriona gestured toward the woman. ‘She’s the one with the boat I was telling you about yesterday. You might want to talk about the crossing to Kisimul Castle.’

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