Page 14 of Scotch on the Rocks

The second the car slipped out of sight, I raced back to the inn. Peeling off my jacket and tossing it along with the box of forgotten cookies onto the reception desk, I cut down the hallway, past the kitchen and guest dining room, to the back door.

Gordon Murray already waited on the porch, his two grandsons in tow. “You’re on time.”A first time for everything.

Old man Murray grunted his greeting and brushed past me. “I dinnae like being ushered through the back o’ house. I feel like I’m daein’ something wrong.”

“It’s a surprise for Mum, I mentioned that on the phone.”

“I still dinnae like it.”

“This way,” was all I said. Hank glowered from the kitchen as we passed and I stuck my tongue out. He didn’t need to utter a single word for me to know hefucking strongly disapproved.He’d said as much every day for the past two weeks.

I already regretted my decision to hire Gordon Murray – a well-known complainer. But he was one of only three plumbers on the island and the other two were booked right through to November. That regret was starting to hold a little more weight when he halted and cursed halfway up the staircase. “My knees won’t thank me fae this.”

I’d issued the plumbing work to begin on the second floor, room five, where the leak was the worst, having put away money for over a year without Fiona’s knowledge.

She’d be pissed when she realized.

Yet, this was my only chance to truly make Ivy House special.More than a relic of the life she was holding onto while the building crumbled around our ears. Fiona argued city life had made me too ambitious, that you didn’t need fancy gadgets and sleek interiors to compete in the hotel market. And I agreed. But adequate plumbing was where I drew the line.

Slipping the heavy key in my pocket, I flicked on the bathroom light in room five. “A skip will arrive tomorrow to collect the old parts. And remember to be careful with the black and white tiles on the shower walls, I want to keep those.” Alexander had fitted those himself. Another reason Fiona was so reluctant to update.

“Right you are, lass.” Pushing his thick-framed glasses up his nose, Murray ushered me out the way. I retreated, worry churning in my gut as I watched them get to work.

It will be fine, I assured myself.

It took only three days to dissuade me of that notion.

3

Callum

Kelly: Think you can squeeze an extra appointment in this afternoon?

Callum: Who’s the patient?

Kelly: A four-year-old cat. Possible UTI.

Callum: No problem. Just shorten my lunch hour.

“What do you mean you’re not coming home?” Swinging my car onto Bridge Road, I cut past the harbour and the rolling waves lapping in great swathes of foam over the pebbled beach, dragging with them the heavy clouds from the mainland. My brother’s voice pulled away from the phone, murmuring to someone. “Alistair?”

“Sorry –shit– I’m listening.” Paper rustled. “My resident nurse is on the phone to the hospital regarding a patient and I can’t find his bloody file.”

“You promised you were coming home next week. You’ve been promising formonths.”

“I know and I’m sorry. Things are just crazy here right now. You know I hate letting my patients down.”

But he’d let his family down?

Guilt rose, edging out the treacherous thought. My brother was a good man doing a noble job. And yet … I was undeniably pissed. I wanted to go at him like I would have as a teen, until we were both a little bruised.

“I get it,” I finally said, tamping down the bitterness threatening to poison my tone. Manoeuvring my oversized four-by-four, which was perfectly made for traversing the sprawling country roads of the island but felt ridiculous on the picturesque rat runs of Kinleith village, around a particularly tight corner, I aimed for the small car park at the end of the pedestrianised high street. “But you need to visit at some point, Alistair. I don’t want to tell Heather and Mal yet, but he’s getting worse every month.”Every week.Just saying the words aloud felt like a betrayal to my ever-hopeful mother.

“I can’t just abandon my life.”

“I’m not asking you to abandon your life but,hell,take a few weeks off. You haven’t taken a holiday in years; they owe you that much.” How could he not grasp how important this was? “If you don’t come back soon, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“I know and I will. Maybe next month when things calm down a little, yeah?” Low murmurs followed and I fought an eye roll. “Look,” he said to me, “I’ve got to go. I’ll phone Mum later and explain.”

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