Page 10 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

‘I can’t believe she manages Coorie Castle all by herself.’

Calan’s reply was wry. ‘She doesn’t, Mum. That’s what she employsmefor.’ He threaded an arm through hers as they headed for the front door. ‘Anyway, enough talk of work. Mhairi has given me strict instructions not to think about the castle for the next two weeks.’

Once inside the bungalow, his mum went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, saying, ‘Hasn’t Bonnie grown? She’s shot up since we last saw her.’

‘She’s growing like a weed,’ he laughed. ‘Always hungry. I swear she’s got hollow legs.’

‘She looks just like you did at her age.’

‘Don’t let Yvaine hear you say that.’

His mother’s face immediately clouded over. ‘How is Yvaine?’

‘Oh, you know, same as ever.’

‘That’s what I’m worried about. Is she still being unreasonable?’

‘Now and again.’

Their split hadn’t been amicable. Cal didn’t know where Yvaine’s bitterness came from, but her accusation that he didn’t love her had kind of hit home. Hehadn’tloved her: he’d cared for her, but he’d never beenin lovewith her. When they’d met, he had been hurting and adrift, reeling from lost love and his father’s illness, and she’d helped him forget his troubles for a while. It hadn’t been serious, but she’d fallen pregnant and suddenly it was as serious as it could get. At the ripe old age of twenty-three, he’d found himself married with a baby on the way. He’d been determined to make it work though, and to be the best father he could possibly be, and he’d doted on Bonnie from the second she’d been placed in his arms, pink and bawling.

His mother sighed. ‘You think she’d be happy that you take such an active interest in Bonnie’s life.’

Cal shrugged. He had the feeling Yvaine was jealous of his close relationship with their daughter. In a way, he could understand – he suspected Bonnie saw him as the ‘fun’ parent, because he tried to make sure she had his complete attention on the weekends they spent together and that they did lots of fun things. He didn’t have to nag her to get up in the morning for school, or to learn her spellings, or tidy her room. And he also didn’t have to be the day-to-day disciplinarian.

He guessed Yvaine resented him for that, even though she’d been the one to end their marriage. He also suspected she wanted to hurt him, and the only way she could do that was through his love for Bonnie.

When their marriage ended, it had been perfectly reasonable for Yvaine to want to return to Skye to be near her parents, but he felt part of her desire to move was because it would put a hundred miles and three hours between him and his daughter. Her incredulity when he’d found a job in Duncoorie was something he would never forget.

Every so often Yvaine would make it difficult for him to see Bonnie, although she did nothing he could complain about to a solicitor or the courts. It was little things, such as telling him that Bonnie was unwell on the weekend he was supposed to have her, and him finding out afterwards that his daughter had been well enough to go shopping or to a party. Things like arranging a weekend away when it was his turn to have her. Things like ‘forgetting’ to tell him about parents’ evenings. They might be little things, but they added up.

To be fair, his ex-wife hadn’t been as bad since Lenn had come into her life, so Cal was quietly hopeful that they’d turned a corner, even though he resented the chap for seeing more of Bonnie than he did.

One thing was certain, Cal wasn’t going to do anything to upset the apple cart, and if that meant keeping his resentment under wraps, that’s what he would do.

Cal tucked his daughter into bed and kissed her forehead. Heespecially loved this time of day, when she was warm and sleepy, but heonly got to experience it every other weekend when she came to stay withhim at the cottage in the castle grounds.

‘Can you read me a story?’ she asked, snuggling deeper under the covers and peering at him hopefully.

‘I can, but Nana has only got baby stories here. They’ll be too young for you.’ Cal’s sister had a two-year-old son who his mum and dad looked after regularly now that she’d moved back to Inverness.

‘Make one up,’ Bonnie commanded.

‘Um…’ Making up stories had never been one of his strong points.

‘Please?’

He tried to come up with something, but his mind was blank.

‘I’m waiting,’ Bonnie said. ‘I haven’t got all night.’

‘Cheeky madam.’ He smiled as she repeated her nana’s words back to him when he’d been tardy in helping with clearing the dinner table this evening. ‘Once upon a time,’ he began, unsure where his story was going, but at least the start was good, ‘there was a handsome prince.’

Bonnie rolled her eyes. ‘There’s always a handsome prince.’

‘OK then, an average-looking prince with a wart on the end of his nose and a squinty eye.’

‘Thewitchis supposed to have the wart, not the prince.’

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