by Lisa Hobman
How could she refuse now? ‘But what if I leave Coldingham? I never said this was permanent.’
‘Well, maybe now you should seriously consider that. You fit in here, Cassie. It’s your home. I own the cottage now and I have no intention of making you leave. I don’t want you to. I like you being here.’ He scrunched his brow and cleared his throat. ‘As my friend I mean.’
She wiped the escaped tears from her flushed cheeks and smiled. ‘I’ll give it some thought. And… thank you so much. I honestly don’t know what to say.’
He nodded curtly. ‘Aye, well, just don’t go painting it pink and filling it with flowery shit, okay?’
She giggled. ‘I will be sure to consult you before I purchase anything flowery for the hut.’
‘And pink. Remember? No pink.’
‘Yes, Mac. No flowers and no pink. Noted.’
He gestured to Cliff who reluctantly jumped down and he stood. ‘Right, well I’ll be off then. I just wanted you to know… about the hut I mean. Oh, and the funeral is next Thursday at the priory. You’re obviously invited. And… I’d really like it if you’d come.’ His voice trembled as he finished off his sentence but he cleared his throat, evidently determined not to cry and Cassie stood to hug him.
‘Of course I’ll be there, Mac.’ He hugged her back and she told him, ‘You’ll be fine, you know, Mac.’
He pushed away from her and quickly straightened up. ‘Yeah… yeah. Right. See you later.’ He raised his hand in a swift wave, pulled up his hood and left as quickly as he could.
Chapter Thirty-two
Mac
Mac stood at the door of the priory as people left the building in solemn silence. He shook so many hands he lost count. Not only did the fact make him sad, but it simultaneously lifted him up knowing that so many people had cared for Rab.
The funeral had been an emotional event for the most part but Mac had made sure his eulogy encapsulated everything good about his guardian, best friend and uncle—including the funny parts too. Like the way he used to get song lyrics completely wrong when singing along to Radio Borders. The example he gave was the one where he had walked in on his uncle singing along to ‘Stayin’ Alive’ by the Bee Gees. The lyric Rab sang was something to do with wearing a wig and owning shoes, when clearly that wasn’t at all what the brothers Gibb had written. Thankfully the congregation found it just as hilarious as Mac had on the day it had happened and for the first time in a long while he had found himself laughing out loud at the memory.
‘Hey, how are you holding up?’ Cassie asked as she reached him. She was the last one to leave the church and he was so grateful for her being there.
He shrugged and tried to smile. ‘Oh, you know… I think Rab would’ve laughed at us all sitting there in suits. Especially me. The last time I wore one was Sally and Derek’s wedding and he took the piss out of me something chronic.’ He shook his head. ‘He said I looked like I’d had a collision with a shop window mannequin and our clothes had got mixed up. Do you think he meant that suits don’t actually suit me?’ The low chuckle vibrated through his chest.
Cassie smiled and smoothed his lapels down. ‘Oh I don’t know, I think you look very smart.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, yeah. Now I know you’re only bloody saying that ’cos you feel sorry for me. The only bloke I know who looks like they were born in a suit is your ex.’ Her smile disappeared and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. ‘Shit. Me and my big mouth.’ He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them her gaze was fixed on him.
‘Oh, don’t worry about it. You’re right. He looks out of place in anything but a suit.’ She linked her arm with his. ‘Now, everyone else is heading to the New Inn, but I know you aren’t that bothered about going. If you like we could go and collect Cliff and go for a walk?’
He had no idea what he had done to deserve a friend like Cassie Montgomery but he sure as hell didn’t have a clue what he would have done without her since Rab had died. She had been the bearer of food, the keeper away of visitors, the deliverer of beer and the shoulder he had cried on more than once. He owed her a great debt and he would have to figure out a way to repay her kindness.
‘Do you know what, Cassie, that sounds amazing. In fact, I have a bottle of champagne at the van. Maybe we could take my iPod down to the beach hut and drink a toast to Rab’s memory?’
A beautiful, warm smile slowly took over Cassie’s face. ‘I’d be honoured to do that with you.’
‘Awesome. Now let’s go so I can get out of this bloody suit. I feel like a penguin.’
They called in at Cassie’s to collect Cliff and so that she could change out of her fitted black dress that clung to her curves the way a dress is meant to—Mac inwardly cursed himself for noticing such a thing at his uncle’s funeral—and when she came down the stairs she had slipped on jogging pants and a long-sleeved sweater along with a hoody and a scarf for later. She looked great even in those clothes. And obviously Mac was noticing this as a friend, he reminded himself.
They headed off to Mac’s van and as they walked he noticed a black car across the road that looked out of place with a bald-headed man at the wheel who he didn’t recognise. Perhaps it was someone he had forgotten to invite to the funeral and they had come along to visit the grave and pay their respects. They carried on and Cassie unclipped Cliff’s lead so he could run around Mac’s huge garden as he loved to do these days. He quickly found a stick that was far too big for him and insisted on dragging it around, growling as he did so. Cassie and Mac watched in amusement for a while.
‘Right, I’ll go grab that champers and get changed. Feel free to wait inside if you’re getting chilly.’
*
Cassie
‘Come on, Cliff, you daft thing. Let’s wait inside,’ Cassie called out to the dog as if he understood every word. Amazingly enough he obediently dropped the stick and followed her up the steps into the van.
She walked in and although she purposefully sat at the lounge end, when she glanced to the left she could see into Mac’s bedroom where the door had clicked off the latch and fallen open slightly. He had already taken off his jacket and tie and she watched as he unfastened his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. She swallowed hard as she saw the muscles of his back working when he reached up for a coat hanger; his shaggy hair reaching just to the bottom of his neck and flicking out at all angles and she found herself wondering what it would feel like if she ran her hands through it. She had stroked his hair when he had been crying but it had been such a platonic act that she hadn’t thought to memorise it. There was no wonder he was so defined—after all he was a very physical man. She felt her heart rate pick up as he bent to slip his black, tailored trousers from his legs. His thick thighs stretching up to his tight…
Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with me? The man is grieving for goodness sake. The urge to slap herself was almost overwhelming but instead she immediately turned away and trained her focus on Cliff. The crazy terrier was rolling around the floor on his back making silly noises and growling at himself.
‘Right, let’s go,’ Mac’s voice pulled her from wherever the hell her lewd mind had descended to moments before she was watching Cliff.
She stood decisively and Cliff followed suit. ‘Great. Got the bottle?’ Mac held up the champagne. ‘Glasses.’ He lifted his other hand.
‘We’re good to go,’ he told her.
They left the van and headed down the slope to the sand. Cassie slipped off her shoes, loving the feel of the grains between her toes.
‘You really love the beach, don’t you?’ Mac observed with a smile.
‘I do. My dad used to call me Pebble. He used to say I was one in a former life. I don’t think there’s anywhere I’m happier than by the sea,’’ she told him wistfully.
‘Pebble?’
She felt her cheeks warming. ‘Yes, I know it’s silly.’ She was reminded briefly of Seth’s opinion of her father’s nickname and the sting of embarrassment c
aused her to cringe.
Mac shook his head. ‘Not at all. I was going to say how cute it was. I can just imagine you running around on the beach with your blonde curls bouncing and your swimming cossie on. But enough about last year…’ he chuckled.
Cassie couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Well that only makes three of us that think it’s cute. Dad used to call me Pebble right up to the year I started dating Seth. But Seth used to tell me it was a ridiculous name to give a grown woman, I think I mentioned it in passing and dad stopped calling me it. I miss it to be honest.’
Mac nudged her shoulder. ‘I’ll call you Pebble if you call me Tiger.’ She lifted her chin and saw him wiggling his eyebrows.
‘You’re a nutter, you know that?’
He frowned and held his arms out to the sides. ‘Well, durrr… All the best folks are. Take Rab for example, he was the life and soul of any party. Could’ve had any woman he wanted and he wasn’t the best-looking bloke in the world. But his sense of humour was what got the ladies falling at his feet.’
‘So how come he never married?’
They reached the hut and Mac placed the bottle and glasses down as he took the key from his pocket and unfastened the padlock on the door. ‘Ah, well, therein lies a tale. His life was a story of the one who got away, I’m afraid. He met a lassie when he was twenty-one. Fell head over heels in love apparently. They were inseparable.’
They stepped inside the hut and sat at the table. Mac flicked on his iPod and attached the little bubble-like speaker. He silently rifled through his albums until he located a track list simply titled Rab, hit shuffle and the intro to ELO’s ‘Mr Blue Sky’ began.
Mac grinned. ‘Rab loved this bloody song. He had it on vinyl and he’d play it and play it. Drove me mad as a kid.’ He laughed. ‘Funny because it reminds me of him now so I love it too. Sorry, what was I saying?’
Cassie was intrigued to know more about Rab and his one that got away. ‘You were telling me what happened with Rab and the girl he loved.’
Mac sighed. ‘Oh aye. Well, she wanted him to move to Wick with her. That’s where her dad was buying a farm. He couldn’t bring himself to leave this place. And that was the end of that.’
Cassie furrowed her brow. ‘He wouldn’t relocate for love then?’
Mac shook his head. ‘No. His heart was always here.’ He shrugged. ‘Leaving just wasn’t an option for him.’ He leaned forwards and fixed her with an earnest gaze. ‘This place… it gets under your skin and it nestles in your heart. You might leave but you’ll always long to return,’ he told her. ‘You’ll see what I mean if you ever do decide to go… I just hope you don’t.’ As if coming out of a trance he straightened up and shook his head. ‘Anyway, it’s a good thing he didn’t leave. After what happened to mum and dad, I guess I would’ve ended up in the care system or maybe I’d have had to move to Wick if he’d have agreed to have me there. So I was lucky he chose this place. Or that this place chose him.’
She understood exactly what he meant as she peered out of the open door of the beach hut and towards the waves lapping at the shoreline as if they too were desperate to set down roots. She realised in that moment that there really was no reason for her to leave Coldingham. All the things Mac had said were true. It was already under her skin and in her heart.
And as soon as that thought entered her mind she turned to Mac and smiled widely. ‘You’re right, Mac. I think I do belong here.’
He popped the champagne cork. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
*
The evening air was chilled when they locked up the hut. It had been a lovely evening filled with talk of Rab; Mac had shared more memories of his uncle’s incorrect song lyrics, jokes and stories. He certainly sounded like a wonderful man who had managed to keep the memory of Mac’s parents alive for him.
Cassie was a little tipsy as they walked up the hill but champagne always did that to her. She shivered and pulled her hoody closer around her body.
‘Hey do you want my hoody too? You look freezing,’ Mac said as they walked back in the light of his phone torch.
She shook her head. ‘Oh no, don’t worry. The cold will sober me up.’
He draped his arm loosely around her shoulders. ‘You can’t be drunk, Pebble. You’ve hardly had anything to drink.’
She smiled at the use of her dad’s nickname for her and after the evening they had shared she took the arm around her shoulder as a friendly gesture and didn’t ask him to remove it. ‘Oh, I can be drunk, believe me. I’m a lightweight. You ask any of the girls from my friendship group back in Glasgow and they’ll confirm it.’
‘Oh, aye? When are they coming to visit then?’
She thought about it but didn’t answer. His question was the sobering factor she needed. The fact was that apart from Vina, there wasn’t really anyone to come to see her. Not now that Pippa was out of her life. Another hint that Seth had been right. Her Glasgow life really had revolved around him and his friends.
They arrived at Mac’s gate and Cassie nodded towards the van. ‘Look, it’s been a rough day. Why don’t you just go on in? My place isn’t far and I’m capable of walking home myself.’
He shook his head. ‘Nope. Rab brought me up to be a gentleman so I’ll be walking you right to your door.’
Rab did an amazing job, she thought as they passed by Mac’s gate and headed along the road towards Rose Brae. She glanced up as a black car drove by them slowly and she lifted her chin just as the driver became level with her. A balding man in a black suit stared back and nodded as if he knew her and so she smiled. He must’ve been one of the mourners at the funeral, she surmised as he picked up speed and drove away. Perhaps the night at the New Inn has gone on longer than expected if people are only just leaving. There were so many people who wanted to celebrate Rab’s life. She knew they had all done him proud.
Chapter Thirty-three
Mac
Someone was banging on the door of the van so hard that Mac woke with a start thinking it was coming off its hinges.
‘What the fuck?’ he yelled as he climbed out of bed and yanked the bedroom door open. He could see the shape of a man through the obscured glass of the main door and when he tugged it open, he clenched his teeth and growled, ‘What the fuck are you doing here again?’
Seth Guthrie smiled in that sinister way he had perfected. ‘I think you know, Mr Mackenzie. Now I suggest you let me come in so we can discuss business.’
Standing there in his underwear, Mac folded his arms across his chest. ‘I told you last time I have no business with you and that fact won’t be changing.’ He reached for the door and pushed it but Seth, persistent bastard that he was, stopped the door with his hand.
‘Things have changed from what I understand, Mackenzie. I hear that you’ve come into more property since last we spoke.’
Mac chucked his chin. ‘Oh, yeah? And who did you hear that from?’
Seth smiled knowingly. ‘Oh, I think you know. Cassie and I are still in touch of course. Very much in touch if you get my meaning.’ He pulled his lip between his teeth and grinned. Mac wanted to slug him in the jaw. ‘And she tells me that she could easily convince you to sell, but I said I could manage that task by myself. Although I know that you’re quite partial to my fiancée and her… assets.’
Mac curled his lip and snarled. ‘Leave her out of this. You haven’t been in touch with her. I’d know if you had.’
Seth chuckled and shook his head. ‘Oh, you think you know her, Mackenzie. But believe me, you really don’t. She’s quite the vixen our Cassie. After your little beach rendezvous last night who do you think she was greeted by in her bed?’
Anger blazed beneath Mac’s skin. She wouldn’t. Would she? In spite of the fact he wished she was his, she wasn’t and Mac knew he had no right to be jealous; but if she’d lied to him all along… ‘Just go. I’m not selling my land or Rab’s. So you’ve wasted your journey… again.’
‘Has she told you that your land is the only
reason she came here? Has she told you she’s a spy for me? Hmm? Has she? Did she tell you we came up with that whole “cheated on” story to make you sympathise? You see, I knew you’d been approached before about selling. And I knew how difficult you could be. So my little poppet offered to help. Clever little thing that she is. Although I drew the line at her sleeping with you. I mean, who wants sloppy seconds, eh?’ Seth laughed. ‘Oh, that’s right, you do.’ Mac lurched for him and Guthrie staggered back off the step, almost collapsing backwards on to the ground. He managed to right himself at the last minute. ‘What’s up, Mackenzie? Hit a nerve, have I?’
It was evident in the man’s cruel demeanour that he was taking great pleasure in winding him up so Mac grabbed the suited man by the scruff of the neck. ‘You’re a liar and a cheat, Guthrie. I know the truth. And I know that it kills you to not have the one thing you want for a change. And guess what? I’m not only talking about my land. I’m talking about Cassie. It kills you that she’s making something for herself here. And that you can’t control her anymore,’ he shouted through gritted teeth.
Seth’s eyes widened, making him appear insane and he jabbed his finger in Mac’s face. ‘You are so very wrong. I bet she conned your uncle in to giving her the beach hut, eh? She wanted a little prize for herself, you see. I thought it was a little callous but hey, what my poppet wants my poppet gets. What can you do? The girl has me wound around her little finger. Oh, and did she tell you what other parts she likes me to be wrapped around?’
Mac lost it. He pulled back his clenched fist and flung it forward, connecting to Seth’s face with a resounding crack. Blood splattered outwards and covered his chest and he pulled his fist back again, but suddenly he snapped out of his trance-like state and he stared in to the wild eyed, grinning features of the mad man before him and shoved him, releasing his hold on the man’s collar. How the hell was he still grimacing like a crazed lunatic?
