Sealed With a Kiss (13 page)

‘Hmm,’ said Kate, teasing. ‘That’s interesting. Maybe I’ll be coming back here to make a wish myself one day.’

‘Oh yes?’ Roderick laughed at her.

‘Morag says this island is magical.’ Kate was thoughtful. ‘It’s certainly cast a spell over me. I love it here.’

Roderick stared at her for a long moment, a strange expression on his face. Kate could feel a blush rising on her own face, hidden by the moonlight.

‘Bugger off, you two,’ came a voice from the darkness. ‘You’re as bad as the children. Can we not have a snog in peace?’

‘You’ll be wanting to change?’ Somehow Sandra managed to beam at Roderick and glare at Kate simultaneously. ‘If you follow me upstairs, I’ll show
you where to go.’

I bet you’d love to, thought Kate. Roderick ducked back through the wall into the men-only hiding space, leaving her to climb the stairs behind Sandra, stiff-legged in her thick layers of
clothing.

‘You can leave your things in here, and I’m assuming,’ Sandra paused to cast a disdainful glance up and down Kate, taking in her mismatched, lumpy appearance, ‘you
brought something else to wear?’

‘I’ve got my things here, yes.’ Refusing to rise to the bait, Kate patted her bag, reassuring herself that she definitely
had
remembered the change of clothes.

‘I’ll leave you to it, then. The bathroom is just there.’

Slipping off her boots, Kate surveyed the hotel room. The bed was covered in heaps of discarded clothes, the floor strewn with boots and wellingtons. It looked as if the whole island had thrown
off their sensible winter layers. It was lucky she and Roderick had spent the time after the fireworks ended walking over the field to the clootie well, or she’d have been changing amongst
the chaos of a crowd of excited islanders.

Locking herself in the bathroom, she pulled out the contents of her shoulder bag. Removing the long johns from under her black jeans, she peeled off layers of vest, jumper and fleece, stuffing
them in haphazardly. She slipped on her top, a shimmering grey cowl-necked vest. It was an old favourite, and she thanked the gods of clothing that it had been the first thing she’d grabbed
when she ran down to the cottage earlier. Slipping on her black heels, which had managed to survive puppy-attack, she surveyed her outfit. A bit plain, perhaps, but definitely an improvement on the
overstuffed-pillow look. She clipped on her favourite silver bracelet, ran her fingers through her hair, sprayed on a ton of deodorant, reapplied some lip gloss, eyeliner and mascara, then grimaced
at herself in the mirror. Without the gregarious Susan to keep her company and make her laugh, she wasn’t really looking forward to the party.

‘Wow!’ Roderick was standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching as she made her way down. He gave a low whistle. ‘I’m now officially off-duty. Shall we have that drink
we were offered earlier?’

Kate was relieved, and touched. Everyone on the island, with the notable exception of Sandra, had been welcoming and kind, but walking alone into a noisy, thronging party full of drunken
islanders had been a terrifying prospect.

‘Sit yourself down here.’ Roderick pulled out a chair for Kate. ‘I’ll go and get those drinks for Jean and Hector.’

The room was heaving with people, all of them far more dressed up than Kate. She twiddled her hair, checking her phone out of habit. No messages. Of course there wouldn’t be – the
hotel, being Victorian, had thick walls that were impervious to mobile signals, so she couldn’t even text Emma for moral support. Sitting on the chair alone, she felt conspicuously lacking in
friends, and suddenly aware of how far from home she was. She searched the room for a familiar face. The sound of excited Scottish voices, blended with the music from the disco in the corner, was
deafening. Having cast off their reserved nature along with their layers of clothing, the islanders seemed determined to have a good time.

She jumped as cold lips kissed her on the cheek.

‘Morag!’

‘You look very beautiful, young lady,’ said Morag gravely, turning to the bearded man on her left. ‘Doesn’t she, Ted?’

‘As always.’ Ted’s eyes twinkled with pleasure.

As soon as they’d met, the gentle Ted had recognized a kindred spirit. Delighted to be sharing the contents of his huge bookshelves with Kate, he’d spent hours discussing the book
world. In his previous life he’d worked at a big London publishing house and had known, and worked with, Kate’s dad. Because of this, he felt a little bit like home to Kate. He’d
shared stories of mutual friends, giving her a feeling of rootedness and security that she hadn’t realized she missed. He’d reminded her so much of her dad, with his warm nature, amused
eyes watching the world quietly.

‘That silver grey matches the colour of your eyes,’ said Morag, reaching forward and feeling the soft metallic material between her fingers. ‘Very pretty. You’ll be the
catch of the night.’

Kate smiled, but said nothing. She had no desire to be the catch of this, or any other, night. She was enjoying the peace of her uncomplicated life, and her nights in bed reading until 2 a.m.,
sleeping star-shaped in the bed. Even Emma’s text the other day hadn’t shaken her:

She’d known Ian wouldn’t be alone for long, and had wondered what she would feel when he moved on. The answer was nothing, as she had been relieved to discover. With the music
pounding in the little hotel bar, that life felt very far away.

‘Kate?’ Morag broke through her thoughts, leaning in to be heard over the pounding music of the disco. ‘You’re away in a dream – oh, here’s Roddy.’

‘I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer, so I got a couple of everything.’ Placing a clinking tray of drinks on the table, he leaned down, kissing Morag on the cheek.
‘Hello, you. You can all take your pick.’

He sat down opposite them, long legs folding underneath the tiny bar table. He handed a whisky to Ted, taking one for himself and nodding a silent toast.

Kate reached forward, helping herself to a glass of whisky. The first one, before the fireworks, had filled her with a warm glow. Whisky was definitely growing on her. Ted smiled at her
approvingly. ‘I do like a woman who enjoys a good single malt. And a beautiful one, at that.’ Ted smiled at Roddy, half-raising a sly eyebrow. ‘Does she not look lovely
tonight?’

Ted and Morag were looking between her and Roderick with expectation.

‘She scrubs up pretty well, considering I’m used to seeing her in jeans and a fleece.’ Roderick looked a little awkward, avoiding Kate’s eye. Morag shot Ted a half-smile,
raising an eyebrow.

The music ended, and the DJ beckoned Roderick over.

‘He’s a good boy, that one.’ Ted nodded towards the little makeshift podium where Roderick was now deep in conversation with the guy behind the speakers.

‘They both are. Finn’s a handful, mind you. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, Kate.’

Kate followed Ted’s gaze, flushing slightly when Roderick and the DJ both looked up at the same time, looking directly at her. The DJ, who had the same cheeky expression as a young Ewan
McGregor, raised one eyebrow and said something to Roderick, who recoiled slightly, shaking his head as his friend nodded, and laughing.

‘Right then, you lot,’ boomed the DJ’s voice through the loudspeaker. ‘So we’ve got a new girl here tonight.’

Roderick looked over at her with an apologetic expression. What on earth was he up to?

‘Time to show Kate from England what we can do.’ The voice began again. ‘Anyone up for a wee bit of a whirl round the dance floor? One for the oldies now, but you can join in
if you went to Kilmannan Academy and remember the steps from Scottish country-dance lessons with Mrs Duff . . .’

And with that, the bagpipe music had started and the room, full of Scottish people on their third drink, inhibitions lowered, was a whirl of laughter. Ted and Morag were up, marching their way
round the dance floor, and Kate was alone again, but this time with curious eyes upon her as she sat, pretending to look at her phone, at the table.

‘I’m
so
sorry, Kate.’ Appearing through the melee, Roderick sat down beside her. ‘It’s Finn – he’s another one who’s unstoppable with a
microphone in his hand.’

‘It’s fine.’ It wasn’t, and she really wanted to disappear.

‘He was trying to make you feel at home. He’s a bit like a Labrador puppy, he tends to bounce over everyone.’ Roderick put a reassuring hand on her knee, then pulled it away
almost instantly as if she was red-hot. ‘Sorry.’ He shifted sideways in his chair, taking a gulp of his drink.

‘It’s okay – I just hadn’t expected to have the entire room sizing me up as the new girl. Some of those women make Sandra look downright friendly.’

‘Ah, yes. I know islanders have a reputation for being warm and open, and all that – but there’s a few of them who’ve got a bit of an axe to grind with me.’

‘Really?’ She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. He might be the laird of the island, and have long sweeping eyelashes, and Slavic cheekbones above dark stubble, and
– hang on, that was the whisky talking – he might be all those things, but he didn’t strike her as being the island Lothario.

‘It’s a long story. Not for tonight.’ He closed down the conversation with a distinct edge to his voice, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He glanced involuntarily towards the bar
and the portrait of Sandra’s identikit daughter.

At a loss for something to do, Kate took an eye-wateringly huge swig of her whisky. The resultant coughing fit, complete with nostrils flaring and a feeling that her head was going to fall off,
was enough to take her mind off the conversation.

‘Anyway,’ Roderick handed her a glass of water, looking both amused and concerned, ‘I came over to ask if you’d like to join me for a dance. Morag and Ted won’t get
off our backs until we do.’

Accidentally inhaling the second glass of whisky had worked wonders – and she’d already made herself look like an idiot. She was practically blowing steam out of her nostrils.
‘Oh, go on then. Why not?’

‘If you want a lift home, Ted’s got the van. He’s taking everyone from the estate. It’ll be a bit of a squash, mind, and highly illegal.’

Standing at the sink in the hotel toilets, Kate looked up as Morag’s head appeared round the door. It was the end of a long night, her head was spinning and while she felt half-envious of
the gang that she’d heard planning to head into Kilmannan for an impromptu house-party, she was secretly looking forward to a huge glass of water and bed.

‘That would be lovely. Just give me two minutes.’

Kate splashed her scarlet face once more with cold water. She was baking hot, after dancing for what felt like hours. It had been surprising to see Roderick helpless with laughter, as Morag, Ted
and eventually Jean fruitlessly attempted to teach her an Eightsome Reel. It was a dance designed to confuse anyone who didn’t have Scottish blood in their veins.

Passing a gang of revellers who were still going strong, she climbed up the staircase to find her things. The room was deserted now, and she grabbed her bag from the back of the wardrobe where
she’d stashed it, out of sight. Almost all of the coats, fleeces and boots had gone, with a slightly unsteady-on-the-feet stream of people walking down the road into the town of Kilmannan.
She walked down the stairs, looking through the window of the lounge, spotting Bruno, Murdo and Ted deep in conversation by the bar, Murdo polishing glasses, never off-duty.

She heard a metallic slither and a chink, and looked down. Her silver bracelet had fallen off. Not surprising, given the amount of whirling about I’ve done tonight, she thought, bending
down to pick it up from the tartan carpet in the hotel lobby. Straightening up, she didn’t notice Roderick open the hidden door in front of her.

‘Oof!’ She walked right into him and looked up, ready to make a joke. He took her wrist, pulling her gently into the tiny, firelit room. Pushing the door shut, he turned, facing her.
He took in a breath, not saying a word for a long moment. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his body. He lifted his hand and traced her jawbone with his finger. Kate’s heart was
pounding. He tipped up her chin, gently. He was looking directly into her eyes and her legs were going to give way. She bit her lower lip, trying to steady herself.

Roderick’s mouth was almost on hers. He caught a curl of her hair that had broken free, tucking it behind her ear. He kissed her gently, pulled back and looked at her.

‘I’ve wanted to do that all evening.’

And then he kissed her again, and this time her hands were wrapping around his back, feeling the muscles beneath the shirt, her heart still thumping, pulling him closer, feeling his body pushing
against hers. Fingers were tangled in her hair, the wood-panelled wall was pressing into her back—

‘Put her down!’

They pulled apart with a start. Bruno had burst into the room, sizing up the scene with a burst of laughter.

‘Yer carriage is here, Cinderella.’ He gave an enormous wink. ‘That’s if ye still want a lift home?’

‘Oh – yes.’ Kate took a step sideways and straightened her top, her legs still decidedly wobbly. ‘Yes, that would probably be a good thing.’

Roderick caught her eye. He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up untidily. His eyes were glittering, and he was slightly out of breath.

‘Indeed,’ Bruno remarked, looking at Roderick.

The journey home, crammed like sardines in the van, was awkward. Roderick sat opposite, making polite conversation with Morag. Every time they went over a pothole, his knee
touched hers and she felt a spark of what she realized, worryingly, was lust. For her boss. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God!

Back in the cottage, having been walked home by an unknowing and solicitous Ted, she lay in bed with her phone. It was 3 a.m. and she had been lying awake for the last hour, half-hoping that
Roderick would bang on the door in a masterful manner, then remembering that she was supposed to be having a year off men.