Page 81 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

Heck, what was she supposed to do when Mhairididfind someone? Tara needed to have somewhere else lined up, but that wouldn’t be easy without a date to work towards. Neither did she have the heart to look for another place to live. How could she, when it was broken beyond repair? But she had to leave Coorie Castle, there was no question of that.

Her mum! That’s what had woken her. She’d been dreaming of her mother’s arms around her. And suddenly she wanted her mum desperately. She picked up her phone and dialled.

‘Hiya, my love. How are you?’ Her mother’s cheery voice brought fresh tears to Tara’s eyes, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.

Her mum said, ‘I can’t hear you, love. The reception is dreadful. Give me a sec and I’ll go outside. I’m in the middle of cleaning the toilet block.’ Tara heard rustling and footsteps, and she hurried to compose herself as her mum came back on the line. ‘There, is that better? Tara?Tara!Can you hear me?’

‘I can hear you, Mum.’

‘Good. I’d thought I’d lost you. How are you, my sweet girl? How’s business? Have you sold your house yet?’

As Tara listened to her mother’s rapid-fire questions, she realised it had been a while since she’d spoken to her. Too long, actually. She’d been so wrapped up in her wonderful new life in Duncoorie, that she’d hardly given her mum more than a passing thought. Sending her the occasional snap of the loch or a photo of her latest doll’s house wasn’t the same as speaking to her.

‘Tara? Are you still there? Drat!’

‘Calan’s back.’ Tara’s voice was small, barely a whisper.

Her mum heard, nevertheless. ‘Calan?Oh.’

The ‘Oh’ spoke volumes. Her mother had seen what a mess Tara had been in when he’d broken up with her all those years ago. Calan was possibly her mother’s least favourite person in the world.

There was an edge to her words as her mum asked, ‘What do you mean “back”?’

Tara, feeling like a total idiot for letting him break her heart a second time, told her mum everything, and at the end of the sad little tale her mum was crying as hard as Tara.

‘You can’t stay there,’ her mum insisted.

‘I have to, for the time being.’

‘No, you don’t.’

‘I can’t leave. What about the lease? And where would I go?’

‘You’ll come to us, of course.’

Chapter 24

What her mum said made perfect sense. Tara could leave most of the contents of the studio in situ, so the place looked as though it was still occupied. And although the craft centre was open seven days a week, none of the crafters worked all seven. One or two studios were always closed on any given day. As long as Tara continued to pay her rent on time, she didn’t think Mhairi would be able to complain.

Tara would also keep supplying the gift shop for as long as necessary, until another crafter was found.

The more Tara thought about her mother’s suggestion that she stay with her and Toby on the Isle of Wight, the more it made sense. It would give her the physical distance from Cal, Duncoorie and Skye that she craved, although the pain would travel with her. There would be no escaping that.

However, as sorely tempted she might be to shove as much into her car as possible and head south right that second, she couldn’t. There was too much to sort out, and she wanted to leave a supply of her bestselling stock in the studio for Jinny to replenish the gift shop with, as and when needed. She also had a commission which was close to completion, and she didn’t want to pack it up and take it with her in case it got damaged en route. She may as well finish it and send it off first.

There was also Bonnie’s doll’s house.

Tara had done so much work on it that it would be a shame not to finish it. What had taken place between Tara and Cal wasn’t Bonnie’s fault, and if the doll’s house helped the child settle into her new home, Tara wouldn’t begrudge giving it to her.

Before she got started, she made a coffee and stared at the contents of her fridge, knowing she should make an effort to eat something. But the thought of food made her stomach churn, so she decided not to bother. A couple of skipped meals wasn’t going to hurt, and no doubt her mum would try to fatten her up, whether she needed fattening or not.

As Tara changed into her work clothes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and flinched. She looked awful – pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, a haunted expression. She’d seen that same face staring back at her a decade ago. She’d hoped never to see it again.

Scooping up her hair with her hands, not bothering to brush it, she fastened it on top of her head, grabbed her keys and her phone, and headed to the studio. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could pack and leave. Being here was killing her.

Or it would, if she wasn’t already dead inside.

Cal couldn’t sleep. It didn’t matter how exhausted he felt or how much he tried to wear himself out during the day by throwing himself into work, every night since he’d broken up with Tara, he’d been unable to settle, and when he did drop off he woke a couple of hours later, his heart aching, his arms empty.

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