Page 66 of Coming Home to Winter Island
‘But Lachlan had promised Hector he’d find the missing recipe for the gin and bring the distillery back to life. He wanted to repay him for everything he’d done for him, taking him in after...after he returned to the island.’
‘Letting me stay on in the croft after Dad died. Even though I couldn’t stand the thought of being there after...’ He looks at Isla.
‘After you asked me to marry you. But I was already engaged,’ she finishes for him.
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘After that. But time has moved on, and so have I. Hector let me stay with him while I found my feet again, and now I’m repaying him. He wants to know the gin business is up and running again before he...It’s his last wish.’ He swallows, and I do too. ‘I couldn’t find the recipe. It was Ruby who unlocked the secret. She’s the one who realised it was all in his head and it was the music that made him remember.’
‘So we made a deal to get the distillery up and running and then sell the place. We had to crowdfund it to get the money to pay for his place. His legacy will still be here,’ I try and explain.
‘And then what?’ Isla says.
‘It’s time I moved on,’ Lachlan says. ‘Moved out. Left the island again. It’s time I let you get on with your own life.’
For a moment, neither of them says anything, then Isla nods sadly, as if finally letting him go.
‘And you?’ She turns her gaze on me.
‘I...’ I feel choked.
‘Ruby has her singing career to get back on track,’ Lachlan says. ‘This way, we all get what we want, and the gin business will provide jobs for the islanders, just like Hector wants. Please, Isla, don’t say anything to anyone else. It’s for the best: for the island, for everyone.’
She looks at him with soft tears in her eyes. ‘For everyone?’
He nods. ‘Like I say, we all get what we want this way. Jobs for the locals, a new start for you and Gordan without me moping around...’
‘As long as selling to some big mainland company doesn’t mean we’ll be swallowed up. I couldn’t be a part of that. Forgetting what makes us and this place special.’
‘We won’t let that happen,’ I say.
‘You have to be a part of this place to know what that means,’ and Isla turns and walks away.
Lachlan and I look at each other. We both got what we wanted, didn’t we? says a voice in my head. Well, nearly.
Chapter Forty
‘So each distillation can be divided into three parts,’ Lachlan tells everyone. ‘We need to separate out the heads and the tails, the bits that we don’t want to flavour the gin and spoil it, and keep only the heart.’ He looks at me as he says it, and I swallow. Stripping life back to leave just the heart seems to be exactly what being on the island has taught me. To live for now and for the people that matter. But in no time at all, I’m going to be leaving, and I have a feeling I will be leaving my heart behind.
For the next seventy-two hours, Aggie, the big old still, does her thing and everyone helps, following Lachlan’s instructions. The place is buzzing. We barely sleep. Lachlan takes catnaps in the distillery and I stay in the house with Hector to keep an eye on him. Despite the obvious pleasure he’s getting from seeing the distillery coming back to life, he’s tired, and much quieter than when I first arrived.
The night before the tea party, we get the baking organised, and then the gin is bottled and boxed and ready to go. The sun sets in a blaze of red and orange, reflecting across the still sea. It’s cold, much colder, and still, a hush over the island, like an audience waiting with anticipation for the show to begin. Everyone leaves to go to the pub, and Hector, tired but happy, goes to bed. Once he’s asleep, Lachlan leads me down to the shore, lighting lanterns around the dunes and the bonfire there, and then produces a bottle of special edition Teach Mhor Winter Gin from his canvas bag.
‘My heart,’ he says, and hands it to me. And I have no idea if he means what I hope he might mean, because if he did, I would tell him that he’s holding mine too in his hands.
He brings out oysters he’s collected, and we open them and drink from them, sipping and licking the salty juice from the shells. Our eyes never leave each other’s, lit up by the flames from the fire, and I feel like I’ve finally come home, that this is indeed the heart of the place, yet at the same time I know that our time together, the three of us, has come to an end.
Chapter Forty-one
The next day, I’m up early. But not as early as Lachlan, it would seem, and as I open my door, I can smell the sweet, warm aroma of baking rising up through the house from the kitchen.
I know we have a busy day ahead, but I want to go for just one more run around the island. After today...well, we still have a few more bottles to go to make our crowdfunding target. If we get there, I’ll be gone. If not, it looks like Jack Drummond will swoop in and try and get the place at as low a price as he can. Without the gin, the heart of the place, the property is practically worthless. I could only see as far as today, getting the money for Hector to go into the care home; doing my duty and then getting on my way to the voice healing retreat, thinking I was doing the best for everyone. But was I really?
I hurry downstairs, pausing on the landing to rearrange the curtains again. There’s so much to do, cleaning, laying up for the tea party and helping Lachlan, not to mention getting the boxes of gin ready to distribute if we make the target...if!
I reach over the banister and ease the old gold bauble from the deer’s antler, then run down the rest of the stairs. This is it. Today’s the day! I go over the list in my head as I straighten a mottled mirror on the wall, then hurry to the kitchen, drawn in by the smell of the freshly baked scones that Lachlan is taking out of the oven.
‘Morning,’ I say, popping a piece of broken shortbread into my mouth from the batch laid out on the cooling tray, expecting Lachlan to tell me off. But he doesn’t.
‘So...’ I clap my hands together. ‘Mrs Broidy is due in to clean, and the Cruickshanks are coming over to help set up...’
