Page 38 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you home.’ And she realised she’d been wool-gathering.

Neither of them said another word until Mack pulled up outside her dad’s house.

‘Thank you,’ she said again, cringing at how formal she sounded.

‘You’re welcome.’

She noticed that he waited until she was safely inside before he drove off, and she was touched by his chivalry. Not that she was in any danger in this quiet village backstreet.

It was as she ran a bath and poured in the bubbles she’d bought earlier did she understand that, actually, shewasin danger. But it wasn’t a stranger she needed to fear. It wasn’t even Mack Burns. It washerself.

Freya, wearing pyjamas and a fluffy dressing gown, looked at theclock on the mantlepiece and wondered whether now was a good time tophone Hadrian. It was only ten fifteen, so he was sure to be up. Hadrianwas a night owl, rarely going to bed before midnight – unless it was tomake love – whereas Freya was usually ready to crash out well beforethen.

Might he be out, though? There was a strong probability that he would be – and if so, would he want to talk?

Oh, sod it. She’d take her chances, and if he was too busy, then at least she’d tried and he couldn’t accuse her of not caring.

Curling up on the sofa, she tucked the dressing gown around her feet and picked up her mobile. But before she rang Hadrian’s number, she saw she’d had a missed call from her dad.

Hoping nothing was wrong, she debated whether to call or message him, not wanting a ringing phone to disturb the other patients on the ward. And if he’d only wanted a chat, he might actually be asleep by now, so the message won.

Sorry I missed you. Call me now if you want? Or I’ll phone you in themorning xxx

Her phone rang almost instantly, making her jump. ‘Hi, Dad, is everything OK?’

‘Can’t sleep.’

‘Oh, dear. Why’s that?’

‘Dunno.’

‘You sound down.’

‘Just fed up, that’s all. I want to go home.’

‘It won’t be long now. Didn’t you tell me that the doctor thinks you’re doing well?’

Her dad grunted, which she took as an affirmative.

She said, ‘I did a big shop this afternoon after I saw you. Got some of your favourites, and a bottle of malt. I also got a bottle each for Mack and Cal.’

‘Who?’

‘Mack. You know, Jean’s son. Remember me telling you that he’d helped me move your bed downstairs? And they shifted the sofa into your room to give you more space in the sitting room.’

‘You didn’t tell me any such thing.’

‘I did. I told you this afternoon.’ She shook her head, exasperated. ‘You weren’t listening, were you?’

‘No, sorry.’

She’d noticed that he had a habit of doing that lately. Trying to engage his interest, she said, ‘You’ll never guess what I’ve been doing this evening! I went out on a boat.’

‘Whatever for?’

She heard him stifle a yawn.

‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Can I bring you anything?’

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