Page 21 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

It took a while.

With a damp patch on his shirt and an ache in his chest, he tried to help her look on the bright side of the move. Which wasn’t easy, because he couldn’t see any bright side to it, either. Instead of being five minutes away, Bonnie would be a thirty-minute drive away, which meant he would see even less of his daughter than he currently did.

Tara looked up as the studio door opened and was surprised to see a girl of about eight or nine step inside. She was on her own, but Tara guessed that a responsible adult would be nearby, so with a quick ‘Hello’, she returned to her task.

She was fitting mullioned windows to a Tudor-style house, and inserting the tiny pieces of Perspex was fiddly.

‘Is it hard to make a doll’s house?’ the child asked.

Tara glanced up again. ‘It can be.’

‘Can anyone have a go?’

‘Yes, but you might need some help when you’re starting out.’

‘Will you be running a workshop?’

Tara blinked, surprised that the little girl knew about such things. Then again, Tara reasoned, the child may well have attended one here in the past.

‘I might,’ she replied cautiously. It was something to be considered for the future, but not right now. She wanted to get her feet under the table first and, let’s face it, she hadn’t been here a week yet.

‘Are all the doll’s houses different?’

‘Yes and no. I have several standard designs, like that one.’ Tara got up, walked towards the counter and pointed to the most basic model she produced.

As she grew nearer, she could see the little girl more clearly. Gosh, she was a pretty little thing, Tara thought. Her hair was the colour of a chestnut, and she had translucent skin with a dash of freckles across her nose and hazel eyes almost the same colour as her hair.

‘Are you here with anyone?’ she asked, wondering where the child’s responsible adult was and whether they were looking for her.

‘My dad. He works here. He’s the boss.’

‘Oh?’ Tara’s eyes widened.

‘I’m Bonnie.’

‘Yes, you are.’ Wow, the child was precocious as well as pretty.

The girl gave her a long-suffering look. ‘It’s myname.’

‘Ah.’

‘What’s yours?’

‘Tara.’

‘Like the princess in the story.’

What princess and what story, Tara wondered, but wasn’t interested enough to ask.

Bonnie continued, her head tilted to the side, ‘You were telling me about the doll’s house?’

‘So I was. This is a basic house. I make loads of those, so you could say that they are all the same, apart from the colour. But, when people buy them, they like to add their own touches, so no two will have the same wallpaper or the same curtains, for instance.’

‘Like the way my house and my friend’s house look different inside, even though she lives next door?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I hope you will run a workshop, because if you do, I’d like to have a go.’

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