Page 9 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

‘Are we nearly there?’ Bonnie asked.

Calan Fraser met his nine-year-old daughter’s eyes in the car’s rear-view mirror. ‘Not quite. Another couple of miles yet.’

‘Aw, you’ve been saying that for ages,’ she complained.

It was true, he had. ‘Sorry. I mean it this time. Ten minutes and we’ll be at Nana and Grandpa’s.’

Duncoorie to Inverness wasn’t the shortest of journeys, and they had been on the road for over three hours. No wonder Bonnie was becoming restless, despite the pitstop halfway for a snack and to stretch their legs.

‘Can we go on the Hogwarts Express? And to the adventure park? And the Raceway?’ She bounced up and down in her seat. ‘Please?I’m old enough now.’ At only seven years old the last time Calan had taken her to visit his parents, his daughter had been too young to visit the Raceway.

Was it really fourteen months since he’d been back to Inverness?

It must be, he calculated. His mum and dad usually visited him on Skye so he could stay close to Bonnie. Bonnie’s mother, Yvaine, could be awkward when it came to his parents, and she often came up with some excuse or another why he couldn’t take Bonnie to visit them. His ex-wife and his mother hadn’t seen eye to eye from the get-go.

He tried not to feel bitter at Yvaine’s change of heart now there was a new man in her life, one who had whisked her off on a fourteen-day holiday to Cyprus, just the two of them. The reason he tried not to be bitter was that he was getting to spend two whole weeks with Bonnie, and he was so looking forward to it. Lenn didn’t know what he was missing.

Or perhaps Lenn did. He didn’t strike Calan as the paternal type, although according to Bonnie, she seemed to get on OK with him. And that was another thing that got Calan’s back up – the thought of a strange man spending more time with Bonnie than he possibly could.

His conflicting emotions about Lenn were a daily battle. On the one hand, Cal felt he should be pleased Bonnie didn’t hate him. On the other, an immature part of him wished she did. However, his daughter’s happiness meant more to him than anything else in the world, so he’d have to suck up his jealousy for her sake.

Bonnie’s squeal of excitement made him jump.

He hadn’t expected her to recognise the turning into the road where her grandparents lived, but she did. They owned a bungalow on the outskirts of Inverness with views over Beauly Firth in one direction and the city in the other.

As he aimed the Range Rover at a spot on the drive behind his mother’s Nissan, Calan could see his parents peering out of the window. Bonnie was incandescent with excitement, and the car had barely come to a halt before she was unbuckling her seatbelt and launching herself out of the door.

The way granddaughter and grandparents greeted each other brought tears to his eyes. They must miss her dreadfully, he thought, as he followed more sedately behind. His mum’s face was glowing and she had tears in her eyes when it was his turn to receive a hug from her. His dad grinned at him over his shoulder as he was dragged inside the bungalow by a very determined little girl, and Calan guessed he’d have to wait a while for a hug from his father.

His mum’s embrace more than made up for it. She clung to him for several seconds, then she pulled back and studied his face.

‘Let me look at you,’ she said. ‘Have you lost weight?’

‘I don’t think so. How’s Dad?’

‘He’s fine.’

‘Are you sure?’

His mum stopped and turned to face him. ‘I would tell you if he wasn’t. There’s no need to ask every time you see me.’

Cal only ever asked his mum about his dad’s mental health. He was too scared of upsetting his father if he asked him directly. It had been over ten years since his dad had suffered a breakdown, but the shadow of that terrible time continued to linger in Cal’s mind. Maybe it was because Cal’s life had altered so dramatically because of it.

His mother changed the subject. ‘Are you sure you haven’t lost weight?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Hmm. You tell Mhairi that if she’s working you too hard, she’ll have me to answer to.’

‘I will, but she isn’t working me too hard, honest.’

‘How is she?’

‘The same as always. For such a wee old lady, she hasn’t half got some stamina.’

‘How old is she now?’

‘Eighty, I believe, but I’m not a hundred per cent sure. I know when her birthday is, but she keeps her age a secret. She might be even older than that.’

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