Page 1 of Wishing Under a Starlit Skye
Prologue
Thirteen years ago
Caitlin Fraser sat, spine straight, shoulders back. Defiant. She would not back down. This was her wish, and no one would stop her from making it come true. She could only hope that her mother would accept her decision and still love her.
She glanced around the living room of the beautiful double-fronted house on Viewfield Road, Portree, on the picturesque Isle of Skye. She had grown up in the house and stayed there right up until she’d gone to catering college and got a flat on the mainland and nothing much had changed. The familiar scent of vanilla pot pourri made her overly sensitive stomach roil. She’d hoped she was out of the stage of pregnancy where smells affected her so negatively, but the sweet sickliness of the fragrance was just too much. She made a conscious effort to breathe through her mouth.
Her high-school portrait still took pride of place on the sideboard that stood in front of the pink and cream striped wallpaper. So eighties, she thought with a small smile. Her mother, Maggie, was stuck in the past with her fashion sense too. She’d never got the memo about shoulder pads and bouffant hairdos being out, judging by the two-piece outfit and string of pearls she was wearing and the amount of hairspray keeping her hair in place. But then again, the past was where all Maggie’s happy memories lived, although not quite so far back as the eighties.
Caitlin’s father, Malcolm, who had helped his wife to run their home as a successful guest house, had passed away when she was sixteen and had left his only child a chunk of money in trust for when she turned twenty-one. It was supposed to set her up for her adult life and she was about to put it to good use at the sensible age of twenty-eight, which is why she was here now and waiting for her mum to say something.
Her mother shook her head. ‘I just think you should reconsider, Caitlin. It’s not the way things are done. It’s like… forgive me, but it’s like playing God. And for goodness’ sake, what will people say?’ Her voice was strained and filled with anguish. Caitlin knew she had her best interests at heart, but there was also some major consideration for her own interests in there too.
Caitlin replied, ‘Andthisis why I didn’t tell you before. I knew you’d react this way.’ More than anything, she wished she’d been wrong in her presumptions and that her mother would be happy for her, accept the decision she’d made. She was an adult after all.
Her mother scoffed. ‘So, you waited until you were four months pregnant with some unknown man’s child before you told me? Is that how much you think of me? Is that what I mean to you?’
Caitlin sighed, the weight of the situation pushing heavy on her shoulders. ‘You know I love you, Mum. I’ve always been there for you. Especially since Dad passed away…’
Her mother stood and paced. ‘And yet you decided to take this route to parenthood without even consulting me, your own mother. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am, Caitlin; and how disappointed your dad would be.’
Ouch, Caitlin thought, even though she knew it wasn’t true. She’d always been a daddy’s girl. She could do no wrong in his eyes, but it still hurt that her mother used those words.
Maggie sighed deeply. ‘I mean, this man, thisdonorcould be a psychopath. A lunatic. He could have all manner of diseases that will be passed to you and your… yourfoetus.’
Caitlin clenched her jaw until it ached and closed her eyes, her hand rested defensively over her as yet non-existent bump. ‘They do all sorts of tests and health screening, Mum. And they ask lots of questions. So, me and my baby will be fine.’
Her mother dabbed at her eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. ‘But you’re so young. Why couldn’t you wait until you’d met someone? A real man. What on earth are you going to tell it about its father? That you went to a sperm bank?’ The expression on her face told of the bitter taste the words left in her mouth, and she shivered. ‘A sterile, loveless room where some… some poor excuse for a man did who knows what to… you know what into a cup? Oh my god, Caitlin, what have you done?’ The woman flopped dramatically into the chintzy, floral armchair beside the Adam style fireplace and bit her knuckle.
Caitlin fought an inappropriate giggle. Her mother’s histrionics were something she had dealt with for years; she seemed to thrive on drama. But this was something Caitlin wanted for herself. She was ready and the time was right, meaning she wasn’t prepared to wait around for the perfect man to procreate with.
‘Mum, you know I’ve had boyfriends before, but not a single one has been someone I would settle down with and I certainly wasn’t about to have a one-night stand with someone for the sole purpose of getting pregnant. I’m not that kind of person. And yes, I realise I’m young, but It’s not like I am going to be a teenage mother. I don’t want to put my life on hold hoping that the right man will come along. I want this now. It’s important to me and anyway, it’s done now, okay? You’re going to be a grandma. Don’t you think that’s wonderful, regardless of how it came about? Can’t you just be happy?’
Her mother gasped. ‘It’s wonderful, is it? My twenty-eight-year-old daughter is pregnant with a stranger’s child. A perverted stranger who looked at rude magazines and deposited his…’ she made bizarre hand gestures, ‘into a plastic cup.’
‘Mum! That’s a horrible thing to say!’ Caitlin scowled at her choice of words. ‘These men aren’t perverts. They’re simply men who want to help other people to have children.’
‘And I’m supposed to be happy about that, am I? Well, I’m not. And that won’t change. I can’t just be happy,’ she snapped.
Caitlin’s lungs deflated as exasperation and sadness set in. ‘You could choose to be happy, Mum.’
Her mother ignored her and patted her perfectly set, dyed blonde hair. ‘What on earth am I going to tell the ladies at my bridge club?’ She gasped and closed her eyes. ‘And Cynthia Goulding? Oh, my word, what on earth will Reverend Goulding think? Hmm? Answer me that, Caitlin!’ Her voice rose in both volume and pitch. ‘I’ll be excommunicated!’
Caitlin’s eyes stung and her lower lip trembled. She’d known her mother would react badly, but this was beyond the pale. ‘It shouldn’t matter to you what your bridge friends, or the vicar and his wife think. I’m your daughter.’ It was true her mother was seen as a pillar of the community, regularly involved in everything, from church fetes to coffee mornings and all manner of things in between, as well as being a close friend of the vicar’s wife, but that didn’t justify such a reaction.
Her mother scoffed. ‘Well act like it then. Be a normal person and get married before you have children. Or at least have the wherewithal to have children with someone you’ve actually met!’
Caitlin wiped at the moisture around her eyes. ‘So, should I not set a place for you at the baby shower then?’ She smiled without feeling the humour.
Her mother sneered. ‘What do you think?’
Caitlin nodded and rose from her seat. ‘That’s a real shame, Mum. I hoped you’d be happy for me. And that you’d want to be a part of my baby’s life. Your grandchild’s life.’ Her voice wavered as she spoke.
Her mother smiled almost pleadingly. ‘Well, perhaps if you used some of your inheritance to… sort the matter out, sweetheart, you could wait and have a proper baby when you meet a real man to have a relationship with.’
Caitlin gasped and clamped her jaw shut at the thought of the unmentioned procedure her mother was hinting at. The hypocrisy wasn’t lost on Caitlin. She wanted to scream at her, ‘So your bridge club and the vicar are okay about abortion but not having a child by a sperm donor? Is that it? Or would you just brush it under the carpet and pretend it never happened?’ But of course, she didn’t. She and her mother had never really been close, and this was just another way she was disappointing the woman who had wanted a son but couldn’t have any further children after Caitlin was born.
Once again horrified at her mother’s words, Caitlin spoke through clenched teeth as her eyes blurred with tears. ‘This is a proper baby, Mum. How dare you suggest otherwise! And Dad wanted me to use that money to make myself happy. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to buy a little bakery that I’ve had my eye on down in Glentorrin and look after my child.’ She turned to face the door. ‘Maybe someday you’ll realise you’ve made a mistake. I hope so because I want nothing more than to have you in our lives.’
