Page 56 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

The look she sent him was pure disgust. ‘The wee tourist lassies might fall for that tripe, but I don’t. Butter some bread.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘And mind your manners.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

Another glare.

Mack blew her a kiss, and she rolled her eyes.

If he was hoping that would be the end of it, he was mistaken. Throughout the meal, she quizzed him – thankfully not all about Freya.

When they’d finally finished eating and the remains of their meal had been cleared away, Mack was relieved. ‘Come on, let’s go satisfy your curiosity,’ he said, and his mother’s eyes lit up.

Freya seemed pleased to see them, if somewhat surprised. ‘Haven’t you got anything more exciting to do on a Friday evening?’ she asked Mack, after inviting them in.

Jean said, ‘He’s away to the pub later. I’ll sit with your dad if you want to go along.’

Freya looked taken aback, but before she could say anything, Vinnie called from the sitting room, ‘I don’t need a bloody babysitter.’

Silently, Freya pursed her lips with a slight shake of her head, and Mack wondered whether the old gent had been giving her a hard time. She looked tired, and he guessed that today hadn’t been easy for either of them, even though she was no doubt relieved to have her dad home.

Jean sailed up to his chair. ‘Look at you, you daft sod. Fancy breaking your hip.’

‘Yeah, fancy,’ Vinnie growled.

‘I’ve brought cake, so be nice,’ she warned.

‘Och, now you’re talking.’ Vinnie smiled stiffly at her. ‘Put the kettle on, Freya.’

Mack asked, ‘Need a hand?’ as he followed her into the kitchen.

‘What I need is a drill. You don’t happen to have one, do you?’

‘I do. What do you want to drill?’

‘Handrails.’

‘I’ll put them up for you in the morning.’

‘I can put them up myself. I just need a drill, that’s all.’

‘I never said you couldn’t, but I’m very particular who I lend my tools to.’ He wasn’t, but he wanted to help and guessed this might be the only way she’d let him. He was coming to realise that Freya Sinclair was stubborn, proud and independent, just like her dad.

‘I won’t break it,’ she protested. ‘I know how to use a drill.’

‘Nevertheless…’

‘Fine.’ She sighed. ‘If you insist on putting them up, you can. I’m not going to argue.’

‘I’ll take one of the armchairs upstairs at the same time,’ he offered. ‘It’s a bit crowded in there.’

‘It’s a bit crowded inhere,’ he thought he heard her mutter.

‘Pardon?’ he said.

‘Nothing. Thank you, that would be helpful.’

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