Page 79 of The Midnight Secret

‘Friends of yours?’

He smiled. ‘Naturally.’

Effie watched him thoughtfully from the corner of her eye. He knew everyone, was wanted at every party; women flocked to be on his arm. And yet there was something enigmatic about him. Not quite reclusive – but elusive. Absent at some times and remarkably, unexpectedly present at others. Now, for instance. She could never have imagined, as she’d woken up in her cottage that morning with her father sleeping on the other side of a sheet wall, that she would be sailing the Sound of Mull with him today. He was easy company, not given to unnecessary chatter; he valued silence as much as good conversation.

‘So how are the others? Have you seen them?’

‘Well, Gladly’s very glum. Everyone’s sort of disbanded. The girls have shot off to France. Colly’s driving around Europe, I believe; he’s got notions of racing the Mille Miglia this summer. Campbell is...Hmm, I’m not sure what Campbell’s up to. London, probably.’ He glanced at her and she wondered whether he was going to make any mention of Sholto, but he offered nothing more.

She looked down at her hands, composing herself. ‘How long did you spend at Dunvegan after I left?’ she asked.

‘Only a few hours. I left the boat there. MacLeod got his man to organize the necessary repairs and I fetched her back a few weeks later.’

‘But weren’t they talking about throwing a party?’

He looked further out to sea. ‘I wasn’t in the mood for socializing.’ He glanced at her. ‘A broken boat can do that to a man.’

She nodded, but they both knew it wasn’t the boat that had lowered his spirits. Her hand fell to Slipper’s head and she ruffled him between the ears. Socks lay at Archie’s feet in a display of trust as well as affection that did not go unnoticed by her; he was the more guarded of the two. She had spoilt Slipper early on with her eager cuddles.

She lay back on the bench with a sigh, folding her arms behind her head, and watching with a melancholy nostalgia as the seabirds wheeled above them. There was something about rolling over the water, listening to the flap and tug of the wind, that soothed her spirit. It wasn’t St Kilda, but there were so many similar sights and sounds that it brought her back to herself somehow, in a way she hadn’t known since the evacuation.

She closed her eyes, feeling the boat’s gentle rise and fall align with the dogs’ snores, the wind rippling over her as Archie cut a path through the sound with skilful insouciance.

If not for her broken heart, she could have almost passed for happy.

Chapter Twenty-Three

EFFIE

14 March 1931

‘What is this?’ Effie asked, standing at her garden gate.

Archie Baird-Hamilton smiled. ‘I’d hoped we had civilized you enough to know, by now, that it is a car.’

‘Ha ha.’ She stuck her tongue out at him. ‘I’ve never seen a car look like that before.’

‘Understandable. This is a fresh-off-the-factory-line MG C-type. Do you like it?’

‘I don’t know yet. Why is it shaped like that?’ The car was painted baby blue. There were no running boards, no roof, and the exhaust seemed to run along the side. The seats were slung low and the back end was curved and pointed like a wasp’s tail.

‘It’s a sports car. Faster and zippier than the usual trundlers on the roads. Great fun. You’ll love it.’

‘Oh, will I?’ She arched an eyebrow as he stepped aside and opened the door.

‘I know your thrill for adventure Gillies. Hop in. We’re going for a drive.’ She saw the confidence in his eyes that she was going to get in beside him, his hand in his pocket, staring her down with his steady gaze.

‘What if I’ve got plans?’

‘I am your plans. You see me on Saturdays.’

‘I don’tseeyou on Saturdays,’ she protested. ‘It just so happens that Ihaveseen you onsomeSaturdays.’

‘The past three on the trot,’ he countered. ‘When does it become a habit, do you think?’

She looked back at him. It was true they had spent the past few Saturdays together: after surprising her at the harbour that first day, he had done the same again the following week, asking ifshehad deliberately come down again to the village to buy rhubarb in the hope he would be there! She had denied it, of course. The third weekend, he had been standing on the jetty with a bicycle of his own and a picnic pannier. Now she had opened her cottage door to find him standing outside. He was getting closer and closer every week.

She stared at the rope that was coiled and slung over his shoulder. Another provocative move.

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