by Lisa Hobman
‘No… really?’ Mac chuckled. ‘You daft wee dog, get your tongue oot ma nose.’
She stirred milk into the two mugs. ‘Look, I want to apologise about last night. I overreacted. I think the evening just got away with us. I mean, there’d been a lot of wine.’ She widened her eyes as she remembered the empty bottles piling up.
‘Aye, there was a lot. And I should apologise too. I don’t know what came over me. But if it helps I’ve been beating myself up ever since.’
Cassie cringed as she placed two mugs of freshly brewed filter coffee on the table. ‘Oh no, don’t be so hard on yourself. It was just a silly thing. But… I’d really like to get past it, if we can?’
He nodded. ‘Me too. Me too.’
Cassie heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Great. So… friends?
‘Friends.’
‘Good. So, what are your plans for today?’
He shrugged and frowned. ‘I’m waiting on Rab getting back from the hospital. I need to know what’s going on.’
Concern caused her stomach to tighten. ‘The hospital? When…? What…?’
‘I wish I knew. He’s been acting a wee bit strange lately. And he’s seemed more tired than usual. Plus I think the day he asked me to hand over your keys he was going there too. The hospital I mean.’
‘Oh dear. I really hope it’s all okay. He’s such a sweet guy. I’d hate for him to be ill.’
Mac dropped his gaze to this mug. ‘He’s the only real family I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if… Oh god, listen to me all doom and gloom. It’s probably nothing.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘So, what are you working on at the moment? Any more tool manuals?’ He sniggered.
‘Hey, that was a gripping read, I’ll have you know.’ She laughed as she remembered her last job.
‘Aye I bet. So, what’s the latest?’
She straightened her back, quite proud of her news. ‘Well I’ve just been asked to edit a romance novel as a matter of fact.’
‘Ooh, sounds very exciting. Well, definitely more exciting than an instruction manual for power tools.’
She grinned. ‘Yes, I’m looking forward to getting stuck in to be honest.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh aye, I bet you’re a real bodice ripping type, eh?’
She felt her cheeks heat to furnace-like temperatures. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’
They chatted for a while longer and Cassie was quite relieved at how easy it was. Thankfully ‘kiss-gate’ had been all but forgotten and they managed to laugh and joke with each other as they had prior to the lip smooshing incident of the night before.
Mac lifted Cliff to the floor. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better be off. I have a surf lesson at four and no doubt you’re keen to get back to your handsome, shirtless hero and his muscles.’ He winked and then his own cheeks flamed.
Cassie smiled. ‘Well those hunks won’t edit themselves now, will they?’ She enjoyed watching him squirm even though she wasn’t sure why he was.
He placed his empty mug in the sink and left.
*
Mac
As he got the top of the lane, out of sight of Rose Brae, Mac hit himself in the head. Why the hell did I wink at her? She’ll think me a total prick now. I must’ve looked like some bloody 1970s sitcom actor. All nudge nudge, wink wink. Idiot. He went straight home and changed into his wetsuit, grabbed his board and made his way to the beach. He figured he might as well get some surfing in before his pupil was due.
The fact that he had chosen not to tell Cassie about his visit from Seth was also on his mind. Had he made the right decision? He certainly hoped so. But what she didn’t know couldn’t worry her. Maybe the creep would just get sick of hanging around and give up? He could hope. Although judging by the ‘I tend to get what I want’ comment he doubted it.
Today’s lesson was a couple of teenage kids whose parents he knew well from the village. It was evident the girl was crushing on him as her brother kept teasing her about it. They’d had several lessons now and the girl blushed every time he looked at her. Mac remained ever the professional and continued with his talk about beach safety and what to do if they or anyone else got into difficulty out on their board. The sea had stolen his parents but he refused to let that happen to any of his trainees. Their safety was paramount.
At the end of the lesson, he watched the kids walking back to their dad who was waiting up the beach. The boy was teasing his sister again. Poor kid, he thought with a smile as the girl shoved her brother away in a bid to avoid his mocking. Then he laughed out loud as the girl whacked her brother who was now making kissy faces at her and reciting something about her and Mac sitting in a tree.
‘Daaaaad! Sophie just hit me!’ the boy wailed. But Mac knew the kid had it coming.
*
Rab’s car was back at his house when Mac returned home later that afternoon. He showered and changed into shorts and a t-shirt and jogged around to see his uncle.
Without knocking he let himself in. ‘Uncle Rab? You home?’
‘In the lounge, son,’ Rab replied and Mac smiled at the term of endearment. He wandered through the house and found Rab sitting on his favourite chair by the window.
Trying to sound nonchalant in spite of the worry knotting his insides Mac breezily asked, ‘Now then. How did you get on today?’
Rab glanced up and smiled. ‘Oh, absolutely fine. Like I said, nothing to worry about.’
Mac wasn’t convinced. ‘Look, you know you can tell me if there’s something wrong, don’t you? I mean I’m an adult now. No need to protect me and all that.’
‘Nothing to tell, son. Now go and make us a brew, eh?’
Mac shook his head and sat on the sofa opposite. ‘Come on. Tell me why you’ve been going up to the hospital.’
Rab sighed. ‘I’ve told you, it’s nothing. But I might die of thirst.’
Assuming that his uncle would tell him when he was ready he huffed and shook his head and left the room to make his uncle a cuppa as requested.
*
The following day Mac rose early and jogged down the beach. The sun was just starting to rise and the sky looked aflame as the glowing ball of light slowly peeped out from behind a grey cloud. Seagulls were taking it in turns to dive at the water, breaking the surface and seconds later returning to the sky, gripping morsels of food in their beaks. Some were sitting on the water as it bobbed and lapped at the shoreline and some were strolling along the sand in the hope of finding scraps that hadn’t been washed away by the tide. As he travelled along the beach he slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the increasing brightness of the morning; the sun’s ray reflecting on the water and dazzling him as he ran.
He approached the little closed down café that was right on the beach and paused for a few moments—the boarded-up windows and broken sign appeared sad and unloved. It was such a shame. It had been a thriving business until the owner had passed away. Thanks to the financial climate no one had taken it on yet. Luckily it wasn’t the kind of building Seth Guthrie would be interested in—that was one saving grace. Mac would hate to see such a sweet little business fall into the wrong hands. It needed someone to come along and make a go of it again, to love it back to life. If only he was brave enough, Mac would be tempted to take it on. He would absolutely love to. He had often thought that when he ran by there but hadn’t the guts to really consider it seriously.
Regardless of his fear, he could picture it all in his mind’s eye. He’d put solar panels on the roof to make the most of the power he could generate from the free sunshine. He’d surround the place with troughs of pretty grasses that he’d water with the rain he’d collect in butts. There’d be no plastic cups or straws—he’d watched the TV coverage on what plastic was doing to the oceans and he would in no way want to contribute to the problem. Everything would be biodegradable. There’d be recycling bins for cans placed outside, possibly by the picnic tables that would, of course, be made of drift wood or wood cut from sus
tainable sources. He’d hand paint the sign for the front and hang coloured bunting around the building with strings of solar lights that would illuminate the place at night.
He sighed and shook his head. ‘Maybe one day, Mackenzie. When you get brave, eh?’ After one last glance he resumed his run.
Further along the beach, a figure stood with a tripod and an expensive looking camera fixed in place, ready to capture as much of the breaking day as possible before the beach was overrun with people. Mac could totally understand why so many people loved the place. It was his home but he never took it for granted. Grateful for every sunrise and sunset he got to see—and sad that his parents hadn’t had the same opportunity.
He passed the little beach hut that belonged to his family and vowed that he would make use of it. It needed a little TLC now as the paint around the shutters was flaking and the hinges of the door were rusty. It stuck out amongst all the others for the wrong reasons. He had found it hard to visit there. It held too many memories of his mum and dad. It was a weekly ritual come rain or shine when he was a kid—Sunday tea at the beach hut. Packs of sandwiches and flasks of tea followed by whatever cake his mum had rustled up. His uncle Rab would play footy with him and chase him around the sand when he invariably won—although he knew that his uncle had let him. So many happy memories linked him to the place but so many were hard to remember without getting misty-eyed.
The beach hut was blue and white striped but Rab had been saying for months that he would rather paint it a nice sage green. He hadn’t gotten around to it yet, but maybe Mac would paint it as a surprise for him.
Eventually he made his way back up the narrow beach road and vaulted the gate into his land before climbing back in to the van to shower and get ready for his day. He had decided he would take a trip into Galashiels to the big DIY place and get the paint for the beach hut. Rab would be so pleased when he saw it finally finished.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Cassie
The sun was up and Cliff was doing his usual giddy dance around Cassie’s feet. Her ankle was still sore but she decided to drive down to the beach and let him have a run seeing as there was no way she would make the walk down the slope unaided just yet.
She showered and dressed and made herself a coffee in her travel mug before loading Cliff in to the car. She’d purchased a special seatbelt for him that meant he could sit on the seat rather than in the boot and he loved to gaze out of the window at the passing trees and sky that were visible to him from his viewpoint.
Once they arrived at the beach she clipped on Cliff’s lead and he skipped out of the car, raring to go. There were already a few people setting up for the day. It seemed that in this location people would come to the picturesque beach regardless of the weather.
As she hobbled along the sand, she realised that perhaps it wasn’t the best surface for a not-quite-healed sprained ankle and had to take regular breaks to ease the discomfort. Over at the beach huts she spotted a familiar looking figure on a stepladder wielding a paintbrush. The cute little hut was being transformed from a blue and white striped candy cane to a serene green pad. The colour surprised her. But it looked so lovely and she wished she could get her hands on one of the huts—but if the talk in the town was true there was a ridiculously long waiting list for the beach huts and many of them were handed down from generation to generation.
There was something magical about beach huts. She had always thought so. And often as a child she had wished she could live in one—to be close to the sea and have her own little shack were her life goals back then. So simple. Oh, how times had changed.
She absent-mindedly found herself gravitating towards the man on the stepladder and was right—it was Mac.
‘Hi, there. I didn’t know you owned a beach hut. It’s lovely,’ she told him before he had a chance to turn around.
‘Oh hi, Cassie. It’s my uncle Rab’s actually. He’s been talking about giving it a lick of paint for a while now and with him being… well… whatever it is, I figured I’d help out as a surprise for him.’
Oh, how sweet. He does surprise me. ‘That’s really kind of you, Mac.’
He shrugged. ‘He’s been good to me over the years. It’s the least I can do. What do you think of the colour?’
‘I love it. It’s so calming and fresh. I think I would do the shutters in a pale cream though.’ She cringed as soon as her words had fallen from her lips. He probably didn’t want her opinion.
‘Aye, I was thinking the very same thing. Nice contrast.’
Phew! ‘Can I help at all?’
He shook his head. ‘Nah, thanks though. The only thing I could do with right now is a coffee. It’s a shame the little café up the way is closed down. It used to be great when it was open. Did a roaring trade.’
She glanced in the direction of his gaze and thought it was a shame that the café was all closed up. She could imagine lots of people making good use of the place.
She reached towards him with her insulated mug. ‘Here, you can have this. I made it at home, but I’m not too bothered. I can get one back at the cottage and I think you need it more than I do.’
He smiled and climbed down from the ladder. ‘Really? Cheers, that’s grand.’ He flicked open the lid and took a tentative sip to assess the heat of the drink before taking a bigger drink.
Glancing back towards the boarded-up café she asked, ‘Has no one expressed an interest in the building then?’
He sighed. ‘Sadly, no. I think there’s probably too much risk attached these days. Shame though. I’d love to get my hands on it. Although I cannae cook much more than beans on toast.’
She smiled at his self-deprecation. ‘Oh? I seem to remember you saying that you could cook.’
He grinned. ‘Aye, I can cook for me but I’m not sure I’d want to subject anyone else to it.’
She laughed and shook her head. ‘Oh, well. Let’s hope that someone decides to take it on, eh?’
His expression changed. ‘So long as it’s not that bloody Guthrie trying to get his hands on more of the village.’
Cassie’s hair stood on end. ‘What do you mean?’
His eyes widened and he turned back, pretending to examine his painting. ‘Oh, erm, nothing. I just meant with him being a developer type, you know?’
She narrowed her eyes. There was something he wasn’t saying. ‘No, you said getting his hands on more of the village. What parts of the village has he already tried to get his hands on?’ Mac fell silent with his back still towards her. ‘Mac?’
He placed his paintbrush down on top of the tin of paint and turned to face her with evident reluctance. He huffed the air from his lungs out through puffed cheeks and then gazed out to sea. ‘He came to see me. Offered to buy my land.’
Her heart skipped and began to race. ‘He did what?’
‘Don’t worry, I said no. My land isn’t for sale and I would never sell it to him. You’ve nothing to worry about.’
She scrambled around her brain trying to make sense of this news. ‘But, why? I mean… this isn’t the type of place he usually goes for. I presumed his talk of buying around here was just bravado.’
Mac turned his focus on Cassie. ‘He’s trying to wind you up. He likes to intimidate. But he can’t intimidate me.’
She swept the long strands of her hair back from her face and sighed in exasperation. ‘I can’t believe him. Why can’t he just accept that it’s over and move on?’
It was a rhetorical question but Mac offered his opinion anyway. ‘I’m guessing it’s because you’re hard to get over, Cassie.’
She gasped silently as he locked his gaze on her. What the hell do I say in response to that? Her mind whirred but Mac broke whatever spell had temporarily been cast.
‘Anyway, can’t a guy get his work done? Get on with you; you’ve a dog to walk.’ He forced a laugh; clearly realising he had made the situation awkward for her.
‘Erm… look, I’d like to help with the beach hut.
How about I go and get some solar lights and… I don’t know… cushions or something? Maybe a nice chair? There’s the antique shop on the main street. There was a lovely old deck chair in there. I think it was blue and white stripes, but I think it could still work.’
Mac’s brow crumpled. ‘You’d do that?’
‘Absolutely. I love a bit of interior design. And to be honest, I’ve been desperate for a beach hut my whole life so this is probably as close as it gets.’
A handsome smile spread across Mac’s bearded face. ‘I think he’d be absolutely over the moon if you did that for him. You’re so thoughtful. Thank you.’
His eyes glinted and the crinkles at the corners spoke of a real fondness for his uncle—his last remaining relative.
*
‘So you’re the lassie who lives in Rab’s place, eh?’ the kindly, white-haired gentleman in the antique shop asked as she handed over the cash for the chair.
She smiled widely. ‘That’s right, yes. My name’s Cassie.’ She held out her hand and the gent took it.
‘Lovely to finally meet you. I’m Gordon Baird, the owner of this fine establishment. I heard you had a wee spill out in the road a while ago. So apart from that, how are you liking our wee village?’
‘Yes, clumsy thing I am. The ankle’s almost healed now thankfully, can’t say the same for my bruised pride though. But anyway, Coldingham is wonderful. So peaceful and pretty.’
He laughed lightly. ‘Aye, but not in the height of summer, let me tell you that. So you’re going to be sitting out in your garden now, eh?’ He nodded to the chair.
‘Ah, this is actually a gift for someone. But I can’t tell as it’s part of a secret.’
He tapped his nose. ‘Fair’s fair. Well I hope the recipient likes it. Now do you want me to carry it out for you? We don’t want any more trouble with that ankle.’
‘Oh no, it’s fine honestly. It’s only across the way. But thank you. Lovely to meet you.’
‘And you too. Bye just now.’
