Tara kept a keen eye out for Cal for the rest of the day, but if he’d ventured anywhere near her studio, she wasn’t aware of it, and neither did she see him when she returned to the boathouse to get ready to go out. She was looking forward to getting to know some of the other crafters better, and apart from the dash to the supermarket in Portree the day after she’d arrived, she hadn’t left the castle grounds.

The evening was warm, but Tara took a fleece with her in case the temperature dropped later. Although the loch was sheltered with hills rising steeply on either side, there was usually a breeze near the water, and with the village following the contours of the loch, she suspected the walk home might be fresh.

Duncoorie was only a fifteen-minute walk from the castle, and the pub was halfway along the main street, not far from the post office. It appeared to be busy, which wasn’t surprising considering this was the beginning of summer and the tourist season was in full swing.

Tara approached it hesitantly, hoping she wasn’t the first to arrive. Not recognising anyone sitting on the benches outside, she made her way indoors where she was met with delicious cooking smells, and her mouth watered as she realised how hungry she was. Her appetite hadn’t been great these past few days and although she’d made a meal every evening, she’d done little more than pick at it. The wine had taken a hammering, though.

The pub was noisy and full of people, but she recognised Jinny, and a woman called Giselle who made the most glorious pictures out of sea glass, and Fergus, the glassblower who was sitting with his brother Shane, so she made her way across the room. Smiling self-consciously when she reached them, she realised they’d commandeered two tables which they’d pushed together and had placed a variety of personal items on the chairs to secure them.

When Fergus noticed her, it took him a second to register who she was, and when he did he removed a jumper from the seat next to him. ‘Tara, isn’t it? We have met, but in case you don’t remember, I’m Fergus.’

When she told him she remembered and had admired his vases more than once, his face lit up. ‘It’s always nice to get some feedback,’ he said. ‘I love your wee houses, by the way.’

‘Thanks.’ She was about to ask what they were drinking and whether she could top up their glasses, when several others arrived, along with Gillian.

When Tara finally settled back into her chair with her drink, she was content to listen as the conversation ebbed and flowed around her, not feeling in the least bit left out as they chatted about people and events she had no knowledge of. But her ears pricked up when they talked about sales and the number of visitors to the castle and craft centre. She also listened avidly for any mention of Cal.

His name did crop up, but only in a professional capacity. His private life wasn’t discussed at all. Which was just as well, Tara decided, as her meal arrived and she tucked in with gusto. She’d ordered braised beef and it was absolutely delicious.

Conversation subsided while the meals were consumed, but gradually it resumed to its former level as the amount of food on the plates decreased. Another round of drinks also helped.

Replete and happier than she had been for most of this week, Tara’s anxiety began to fade. Everything would work out, she was convinced of it. So what if her ex-boyfriend ran the place – she didn’t have to have anything to do with him, did she? And if there was any contact between them, it would be to do with the studio. As long as she paid her rent on time, he didn’t need to bother her. She could handle it. The shock at seeing him again, had been just that: shock. And maybe some left over emotion caused by how badly he’d treated her and how broken her heart had been.

But it wasn’t broken now. She’d put herself back together by losing herself in her newfound love of doll’s houses and everything associated with them. Tara was determined that what had happened a decade ago would have no bearing on the present. She was an adult, a different person from the naïve girl she had once been.

But the naïve girl was still there, Tara abruptly discovered, when a casual glance at the bar revealed a familiar face that made her heart stop and her mouth go dry.

She swallowed and looked away, paying her empty plate far more attention than it deserved.

‘Are you all right?’ Jinny asked.

‘Pardon?’

‘You were frowning. Was everything OK with your meal, because if it wasn’t you should have said. They’re very good here, they would have sorted it for you.’

‘No, it was delicious. I just remembered something I have to do,’ she lied, as her skin tingled. A sixth sense told her Cal was close.

He was so close that he was standing at her elbow, and she imagined she could feel the heat of his skin and smell the aftershave he wore, as memory and reality swirled together.

‘Can I buy anyone a drink?’ he asked, and his voice sent a shiver right through her.

There were murmurs of assent and ‘Ta, hen,’ or ‘Nice one, Cal,’ but Tara couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Fergus got to his feet. ‘You’ll need a hand to carry that lot back.’

Cal spoke to her directly when she failed to say anything. ‘Tara? Can I get you another drink?’

‘No. Thanks. I’m fine.’ Her voice was wooden, stilted.

‘She won’t admit it, but I think something was wrong with her meal,’ Jinny said.

‘My meal was fine,’ Tara insisted. ‘Lovely, in fact. I’m tired, that’s all. It’s been a long week.’

‘Yes, it has,’ Cal agreed, and she had the feeling the comment was aimed at her.

Maybe he was finding this as awkward as she? For the first time since she’d seen him in her studio, she wondered how he felt about her being here. Guilty, maybe? She hoped so. Ashamed? So he should be. He’d behaved like a complete shit.

When he walked away, Tara breathed out slowly. Could she make her excuses and leave now? She’d already laid the groundwork by saying she was tired. Then she remembered her resolution not to avoid him, but to get used to his presence so that she didn’t act like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever she bumped into him.