Page 4 of A Scottish Christmas Hideaway
Her dad looked at her, concern so evident.
‘I’m okay. Honestly,’ she said. ‘Just tired and emotional and glad to see you, Dad . . . Where’s Mum?’
‘Guess,’ he said with a roll of his eyes.
‘The loo?’
‘Yup,’ he said with a chuckle.
It was a long-standing family joke that her mum, Catriona, always made a beeline for the toilets wherever she was.
‘Catriona,’ said her dad gruffly with a wave. ‘Over here.’
Her mum ran towards her, beaming, but when she noticed her daughter’s blotchy face, she stopped smiling. ‘Oh, what’s the matter? Och, my darling, are you okay? I can hardly believe that you’re here.’ She threw her arms around her. ‘Jessica, there’s nothing to you. Have you lost weight? And you look so pale. Have you not been eating? We have been so worried you know.’
‘Catriona, are you going to take a breath and let the girl reply?’
Her mum stepped back and Jessica shook her head, aware that her face was now probably streaked with mascara. ‘I’m fine. Honestly. It’s just been a busy year. And I got a bit overwhelmed when I saw Dad.’
‘It’s probably your hormones,’ she said knowingly. ‘Or the planets. Mercury is in retrograde and that can put everything into aspin.’
Jessica clocked her dad giving her mum a lookwhich meant please rein it in for now. Then he looked at her and rolled his eyes as if to say,here we go.
‘Anyway, the main thing is that you’re here, darling, and you can relax and be looked after for a change. You look utterly shattered.’ Mum paused. ‘I am glad you’re home and I promise we’ll take care of you. And we have you to ourselves for a bit before chaos descends.’
Jessica smiled knowing she was referring to Murray and Carolyn and little Lexi who were due to arrive in a couple of weeks. ‘It will be great to see them all. I still can’t believe I haven’t physically seen Lexi since she was a baby.’ Her niece was now almost two years old and she did feel guilty that, since a quick trip to see her when she was born, she had only seen photos of her and waved hello when her brother FaceTimed her.
‘She’s a wee poppet,’ said her dad proudly. ‘But I suspect it will be full on when they arrive.’
‘Indeed,’ said Mum. ‘Which is why we’ve made a plan.’
Jessica tilted her head, intrigued. ‘What’s the plan?’
Her mum gestured towards the exit. ‘We’ll fill you in later. Come on. We’d better get back to the car before we need to remortgage the house to pay for the parking. This way.’
‘Here, let me take your bag, dear,’ Dad said, taking Jessica’s case from her and wheeling it effortlessly towards the exit.
‘Come on, troops,’ ordered Mum. She led the way as she bustled off towards the doors, her mass of grey curls trailing down the back of her cerise coat.
‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ said her dad conspiratorially. ‘She’s in full organisational mode. All I want is five minutes’ peace but she is having none of it.’
Jessica chuckled. Her dad didn’t need to say any more. She walked next to him as they tried to keep up with her mum, who was a woman on a mission, swiftly weaving her way through the other passengers on her route to the payment machine.
‘That’s an absolute outrage,’ said Catriona, exclaiming loudly at the cost of the ticket.
Jessica shook her head fondly and smiled even more when the other lady at the machine also started tutting and agreeing with her. How she had missed her mum.
‘I know, someone is having a laugh. Daylight robbery, so it is,’ said the woman with a dry chuckle. ‘Merry Christmas indeed.’
As she followed her parents to their car, Jessica felt a small weight lift from her shoulders. Things might just be okay. It was the first time she had felt a glimmer of anything like that all year. But now that she was home for Christmas she could hide away and perhaps emerge as a new woman in the new year.
Chapter Three
Reuben climbed down the ladder, pulled off his goggles and stretched his arms up in the air to ease his stiff shoulders. For the past couple of hours he had been diligently rolling white paint across the ceiling of the small sitting room at Primrose Cottage. Despite his aching limbs, he was finding it strangely therapeutic, especially as he didn’t have to talk to anyone else while he did it. It was nice to focus only on the direction of the roller and then dip it back into the tray of paint. He looked down at his overalls. They were splattered with an assortment of colours, and as he scratched his head, he realised that his dark hair would be sprinkled with flecks of white paint too as he’d forgotten to put on his old cap.
For the past few months, the cottage had undergone quite the overhaul and renovation. Reuben had tried to make sure the building retained its charm while opening up some of the smaller downstairs rooms to make a bright and open kitchen full of light. He had always loved the back of the house and was glad he had been able to add French doors that opened onto the private garden.
Primrose Cottage was tucked down a small lane which could be easily missed if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In spring and summer, it was flanked by the greenery of trees. It was only in winter when they stood bare that the lane was more exposed. There were only four other cottages along the lane which was why it was such an appealing spot. It was private, quiet and unassuming, which Reuben realised ironically were also words that could describe him, and even more so this past year.
