Page 25 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

‘Sorry.’

The woman’s bark of laughter made Tara jump and she yelped in surprise.

‘Bloody hell, Willie would have found that hilarious.’ She was chuckling. ‘He always did have a morbid sense of humour. I suppose he had to, in his line of work.’

‘What did he do?’

‘He was an undertaker, of course. They cremated him in one of his own coffins.’

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ Tara was mortified.

‘Och, we weren’t very close. Willie was my brother-in-law. My sister is a bit upset, though.’

‘I expect she is.’ Tara felt awful.

‘She loves that funeral parlour.’

‘Riiight…’

‘Which is why I’m here. I want you to make a model of it. Can you do that? Your leaflet says you can.’ She flapped it at her.

‘Yes, I can do that.’

‘She doesn’t want to carry on with it on her own. She can’t, you see – too squeamish. Can’t stand the sight of a dead body. Willie handled that side of things. He used to love laying them out in their Sunday best, powdering their dead faces, combing their hair. Did you know it’s a myth that people’s hair and nails continue to grow after death?’ When Tara shook her head, the woman sighed. ‘It’s amazing the things you learn when your brother-in-law is a funeral director.Wasa funeral director. He stocked a lovely line of coffins.’ She seemed to gather herself. ‘Where was I? Oh, yes, a scale model of the funeral parlour. What do I need to do?’

Tara hastily gathered her own wits and briefly explained how it worked, before making a note of the woman’s name and email address. ‘Right, Mrs Esplin, I’ll send you all the details of the things I’ll need from you, and we’ll take it from there. Is that OK?’

It was, and Mrs Esplin left, a relatively happy customer, although Tara didn’t think either of them had quite recovered from the initial misunderstanding.

A funeral parlour was certainly a first, and her head was still swimming with just how much detail she would be expected to go into, as she turned her attention to her next customer.

He’d been very patient, examining the window display whilst she dealt with Mrs Esplin, and he continued to study it, his back to her.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting…’ Tara began, then drifted into silence.

Although she could only see his back, there was something familiar about him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but whatever it was made her pulse quicken and a shiver go right through her.

It was only when he slowly turned around to face her, that she realised who he reminded her of. Come to think of it, he didn’t justremindher. It was him,Cal. The man she had fallen in love with at university. The man who she had thought loved her. The man who had broken her heart. Calan Fraser.

The total, uttershite.

Chapter 8

When Calan saw Tara Shaw in the doll’s house studio, his instinct had been to turn tail and run. But knowing that he would have to deal with her at some point, he kept his feet firmly glued to the floor.

At the sight of her, confused and uncertain as she dealt with an awkward situation and a woman who had initially seemed to be off her trolley, his heart had fluttered, before giving an almighty thump as it tried to catch up with itself. Thankfully he’d entered the studio behind three other people and had managed to keep them between him and Tara.

When they left, he’d already positioned himself with his back to the counter and the woman he’d once loved with all his heart. He had loved her so deeply and so totally that he’d been devastated when he’d had to let her go.

She was the one who had got away – and he was the one who had let her.

He hadn’t wanted to end it, but at the time he’d felt he had little choice. His dad’s breakdown and his mum’s insistence that it was kept quiet, on top of Cal finishing his degree and being offered a job near his hometown, had made it incredibly difficult to carry on seeing her.

At first, he’d tried to keep his relationship with her going, but not being able to leave Dad to visit her in Glasgow (his mum had been terrified that Dad would harm himself) and not being able to invite Tara to visit him in Inverness, had inevitably put a strain on their relationship. After one particularly fraught phone call, where Tara had accused him of not loving her any more, Cal had made the heartbreaking decision to set her free. It wasn’t fair on her.

He might have tried to hang on to her, but there was no knowing how long his dad’s poor mental health would continue, and with him being sworn to secrecy there’d been nothing he could say to make her understand. So he’d told her that they were too young for such a serious relationship and it couldn’t possibly last, that his parents kept telling him they were too young to settle down, that she was in Glasgow with another year of her course to complete and he had a job in Inverness and everyone knew that long-distance relationships never worked, and that she should be enjoying university life. He had told her everything but the truth and had ended it there and then.

And had spent the rest of his life regretting it.

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