Page 35 of A Perfect Discovery

She grabbed the keys and left before Judy could change her mind. If she was early, she could sit on the beach and relax or climb to the old burial site beyond. With the sun out it was a pleasant drive. She half expected a message from Calum telling her to get back to work. Maybe she just wished for one.

Uisken was one of the most picturesque beaches on the island. Tourists sometimes stumbled on it but today it was deserted and gloriously calm. Rhona crossed her legs on the sand and closed her eyes, listening to the waves, the gulls, and the flutter of long grass on the dunes in the gentle breeze. Calum might scoff at her for wanting to bond with nature but it was worth it. Tranquillity washed over her.

‘Rhona.’ A voice woke her from her reverie. How long had she sat in her silent meditation? From the small car park where she’d abandoned her mum’s car, Kirsten waved. Rhona got to her feet and jogged over.

‘Hey. I was totally zoned out.’

‘I drove down to see if you were here,’ Kirsten said. ‘I thought you might be.’

‘I think I drove past your new house.’

‘You must have, it’s the only road in and out.’

Rhona followed Kirsten back the way she’d come and pulled off the road into a newly cut opening behind a small croft. A field beneath a rocky hillock had been cleared and house foundations covered the ground like a 3D floor plan.

‘Wow.’ Rhona scanned around as Kirsten beamed at her building site. ‘It’s a great size and what a stunning location.’

‘Isn’t it? Fraser’s gran, Agnes, lives in the croft there.’

‘Oh, I remember.’ Rhona smirked at Kirsten. Two summers ago, Rhona had been back on a visit with their other two besties, Ann-Marie and Cha – the group they called the Mullsketeers – but Kirsten had cried off one of their pub dates to deliver a missing phone to someone mysterious. Fraser. The enigmatic man who’d been living in a tent atop the hill behind his gran’s house.

‘Yeah, I bet you do.’ Kirsten’s cheeks glowed.

‘Ironic you were the one who landed the guy who lived in a tent and goes about in a kilt, he sounds much more like my type.’ Rhona cringed as she remembered eyeing him up in the pub before she’d realised Kirsten was after him – well, you couldn’t blame a girl for looking.‘And if not me, then Cha. She likes a rugged man.’ Their blue-haired Mullsketeer friend was easily the most rebellious of the gang. If Rhona had channelled some of her vibes on Crete, she’d have had no difficulty giving Annike a piece of her mind, or a fist in the face.

But it wasn’t her style. She’d always shied away from conflict. Catriona and Mhairi, her older sisters, fought like cat and dog – all the time. As teenagers their fights shook walls. Alister roared at them and Judy screamed for them to be quiet. Rhona, being much younger, just wanted them to stop. Tears flowed often as she pleaded with them to play dolls with her. She didn’t need to hear what one had done to the other. Even now, they played off against each other and rarely got together through choice. Much as Rhona loved them, and individually enjoyed their company, she hated being pig in the middle at family gatherings.

She plonked her arm around Kirsten. ‘This house is going to be gorgeous.’

‘This is where we’re staying at the moment.’ Kirsten pointed at an old caravan. ‘I’m not sure it’s any better than the tent.’

‘Can’t you stay with his gran?’

‘Fraser doesn’t like to. He thinks he’s imposing on her. And her croft is pretty small.’

‘I guess, but so’s that caravan.’

‘We’ll appreciate the house once it’s up. How’s your research going?’

Rhona glanced around. ‘Listen, don’t tell anyone and I’ll let you into a secret.’

‘I’m not sure I can keep secrets from Fraser.’

‘Well, tell him if you like but warn him, I’ll crack his nuts if he tells anyone.’

Kirsten laughed. ‘Ok, that should do the trick.’

‘So,’ Rhona lowered her voice even though no one was around. ‘I’m doing the dig at Kilnarkie.’

‘No. Did Calum Matheson agree?’

‘Yup. But no one else knows.’ She pouted. ‘Except Will Laird and his wife, but I think Calum has threatened him with something worse than nutcracking so hopefully he won’t blab.’

‘Your parents won’t be happy.’

‘What they don’t know can’t hurt. But I hate not telling them. I’m like a naughty teenager sneaking about, washing my dirty stuff in the sink before I put it in the machine, and keeping secrets.’

‘It’s probably for the best in the long run. Because you won’t be there for too long, will you?’

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