The essential difference between my cousin and me was that she would have known the name of the waitress serving hors d’oeuvres. And that was why some part of me had always wanted to be more like open-hearted, vulnerable Charlie.
But I wasn’t like her, and now I knew that for sure.
The wedding photo on the sideboard proved that Aidan wasn’t like that either.
I took the path back to the main house, walking barefoot, without feeling the cold. On the way, I found my lost shoe. It was wet and dirty.
Just before reaching O’Farrell’s Guesthouse, I turned onto the flagstone path leading to the lakeshore. I sat down on a bench shadowed by an old pine tree that looked like a small, hunched woman contemplating her reflection in the water. I pulled up my legs and wrapped my arms around my knees.
It was quiet here, and peaceful. A few ducks waddled by, and up in the now almost cloudless sky, a bird of prey wheeled in forbidding circles. Without thinking, I stuck my hand in my pocket and cried out. What a stubborn little thing this thistle was.
“Seems to me you could use a blanket and a hot cup o’ tea,” someone said behind me.
I immediately put my feet on the ground and brushed my hair out of my face, dropping Aidan’s prickly present.
Finola ignored my dirty shoes and damp dress. The wool blanket she laid over my shoulders smelled of sheep and dog. She then handed me a cup of tea, sat down next to me, and silently watched as I breathed in its soothing steam. It might have been sunny by now, but I really would not advise anyone to visit Scotland in the spring. I realised I was shivering.
“So kind of you,” I whispered awkwardly, unaccustomed to people who didn’t ask questions.
Finola leaned back and looked out at the lake with half-closed eyes.
“The view’s stunning, isn’t it?”
She had stuck a pencil into her chignon, which slightly resembled an empty bird’s nest. Her knitted jumper was far too large and matted from years of washing—obviously an old favourite. Finola O’Farrell was a simple woman, but there was something about her fading beauty that intimidated me.
“It’s a very special flower, you know. It’s even immortalised on the Scottish coat of arms.”
“Sorry?”
“The thistle.”
She turned to me. Nothing seemed to escape her yellow-green eyes. I quickly scooped up the thistle as though I hadn’t meant to throw it away.
“They usually bloom much later,” Finola added with a smile. “You seem to have found a particularly ambitious specimen.”
“What’s so special about thistles?” I asked.
“There are many legends involving thistles. First and foremost, it’s the emblem of the royal clan, the Stuarts, and that’s most likely why the thistle became the symbol of Scotland.” Finola took the flower from me and gently touched the purple blossom. “I myself am partial to the story of the Norsemen who landed on our shores in the twelfth century, planning a night-time attack. To approach without being heard, they took off their armour and shoes—and walked right into a field of thistles. Their screaming woke up our men, who easily routed the barefoot barbarians.” Finola opened my hand and gently placed the thistle on it. “It’s a wee little plant that knows how to defend itself, that stands for courage and deep conviction. In matters of the heart”—she paused—“one single blossom means more than an entire bouquet of red roses.”
My stomach contracted. “What a lovely story,” I stammered with burning cheeks.
Finola nodded and returned her attention to the snow-covered mountains.
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Words tumbled out of my mouth like the crumbling stones of a badly constructed barricade.
“I saw some photos in the boathouse . . . a wedding picture, a pretty photo with a very . . . happy couple. I mean, Aidan . . . looks very happy.” I had never been so relieved to finish a sentence in my life.
Finola’s expression softened. “It was a wonderful day for all of us,” she sighed.
“She was a stunningly beautiful bride.” I swallowed. Aidan’s expression was forever etched into my retinas—the warm smile, the sparkling eyes resting on Vicky, the auburn-haired beauty from the pastry shop. Delirious with happiness.
“She was, indeed. She had . . .” Her voice suddenly seemed to come from far away.
“Well, hello, you two. Girl talk?”
I jumped. Aidan was standing on the path, his hands in his pockets, grinning like the boy on the motorbike.
I had been so stupid. To believe that he . . . that it had been more than a brief interlude in which both of us forgot we belonged to someone else.
I clenched my fist, enjoying the pain, and buried the thistle in my pocket.
Aidan had been right about one thing, anyway. The thistle really was like me, a wee little thing able to stand up for herself. There wouldn’t be a second time—I had too much to lose. Besides, I was not a woman who steals another woman’s man, however loosely he treats his marriage vow. Aidan Murray was a womaniser after all, nothing more.
“Thank you again for the tea, Mrs. O’Farrell. It really made me feel better. Now I’d better go see whether my aunts have murdered each other.”
I stood up with a smile, careful not to look at Aidan. Only after passing the rose bushes did I start to run.
“If your night was as awful as you look, you’d better forget all about it.” Bri sounded amused.
Out of breath, I let the kitchen door slam behind me and stiffened when I saw the table. Pancakes! Finola had made pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. There was a fire in the woodstove and wildflowers all around. In a different life, I’d have killed for this breakfast. But right now, the idyllic scene was torture. I had to get out of here.
“Go and pack. We’re leaving.”
Li blinked and reached for her glasses next to a cup of tea and an open book. She looked bleary, her skin the colour of a dried leaf.
“Are you all right, Aunt Li?”
“Just slightly indisposed,” she mumbled. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to go on your little excursion without me since there probably won’t be enough facilities . . .” She cleared her throat, embarrassed.
I scowled at Bri, who made large, innocent eyes and, true to form, counter-attacked.
“Li, at least, spent the night in her own bed.” Bri smirked and continued petting Hank, who was leaning against her leg with closed eyes. This would have baffled me under normal circumstances, but now it generated just one thought—two really warped personalities had found each other.
“Yeah, great job, Bri. I hope you’ve got a hangover that doesn’t quit,” I snarled.
Shocked, Li covered her mouth with a hand.
“Josie, how dare you take that tone with your aunt Bri?”
“It’s the tone that’s fit for someone who—”
“Where are we going?” Bri asked calmly. “Or should I ask how fast and how far?” Hank’s tail drummed on the floor. Bri smoothed her skirt. “Look what you’ve done, you monster dog—hair and drool stains all over. Auntie Bri can’t leave the house like this.”
“Who are you and what have you done to my aunt who hates dogs?” I exclaimed.
“They’ve become friends. Bri even took Hank for a walk. Isn’t that nice, Josie?” Li looked at her sister as if she had tamed Cerberus, the hound of hell.
Bri rolled her eyes.
“He hasn’t left her side since this morning and she purrs when she talks to him,” Li stage-whispered, torn between amusement and awe. Then she stood up so fast she spilled her tea. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Bri shrugged and leaned over to scratch Hank’s belly while I stood there at a loss. We heard the toilet flushing and Li returned soon after.
“I think I’m getting a little better. Thank goodness for your charcoal tablets, Sis.”
I crossed my arms and planted myself in front of my travel companions. My mouth was dry. “I’m driving to Inverness to look for Charlie. Are you coming
or staying here?”
Li came over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Josie, is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine, Aunt Li,” I lied, when all I wanted to do was throw myself into her arms, sobbing. “I just don’t want to lose any more time. There’s so much to do back home. After all, I want to get married in two weeks!”
Bri stopped stroking the blissful dog. “But is that really what you want?”
I nodded. It’s uncomfortable to lie when one has a hunch that the other person knows the truth. The two sisters looked at each other.
“Anyway, we don’t have a car,” she added.
I exhaled and went to the kitchen window. Finola and Aidan still sat on the bench. Her head rested on his chest and Aidan had his arm around her shoulders. It was a moving, protective gesture that reminded me that their family was grappling with his father’s cancer diagnosis. I’d been so preoccupied with my own problems I hadn’t asked him about it once. I turned away quickly, feeling I had intruded on their privacy. Plus, the sight of Aidan’s beautiful, deceitful back made every inch of my body want to flee.
I felt Li and Bri’s eyes on me, anxious like a pair of blackbirds who have watched their chick fall out of the nest. I closed my fingers tighter around the keys to the truck that I’d taken from the hook in the hallway.
“Well, you do have to set priorities in life,” Grandmother had said when Charlie missed the bus on the morning of her A-level exam and, without hesitation, had “borrowed” the mailman’s bike. That stunt earned her a few hours of community service, but also saved her university career.
I held up the key ring and jingled it. “We have ten minutes to get packed.”
Justus was just here and he was terribly upset. Could you call him? Papa is afraid your fiancé might pitch his tent in our tulip bed until we tell him where you are. I beg you—call him. Me too. Kisses, Mama
P.S.: Have you found Charlie?
“We stole a car,” Bri giggled as I steered the truck down the gravel driveway and onto the street.
My hands were shaking and it took me three attempts to put the truck into gear. But as soon as the little Victorian bed and breakfast was out of sight, my guilty feelings were swept aside by immense relief, which continued while I drove through the village, rigidly obeying the posted speed limit. We passed the bus stop, where a motley crowd of backpackers had just been dropped off. So much for “buses only on weekdays.” I wondered what other lies Aidan had told me.
With one hand on the steering wheel, I fumbled through my bag until I found my mobile phone. There was a message from Justus.
I opened the message, the phone jammed against the steering wheel, read it twice . . . and, with a lump in my throat, then a third time.
I love you.
These past nine years, I had only heard those magic words twice from my fiancé—first, after I got certified to practice family law, and second, after his bachelor party, when he slipped into bed with alcohol on his breath. Yet now, he’d written them for the second time.
No, mo chridhe, I’ll show you what it means never to let the flame die.
Aidan Murray’s hypnotic eyes appeared so suddenly in front of me that the phone fell from my hand and clattered to the floor. The noise jolted me from my brooding. Out of habit, I’d steered into the right lane. Fortunately, there was almost no one on the road, but my heart pounded as if I’d just looked death in the eye. I gripped the wheel, moved back to the left, and ground my teeth together so hard that I thought Bri and Li would hear. There was only one explanation for my situation—someone had cast a spell on me. Ever since I’d landed in this country, nothing had been the way it should be, neither in my head nor in my heart.
I checked the rear-view mirror. My aunts looked out of opposite windows, lost in thoughts of their own. Much to my chagrin, Bri appeared fresh and rested while Li still looked under the weather. However, the gentle smile on her face transcended the discomfort her sister had caused. She pressed her phone, which was beeping incessantly, against her chest like a love letter she was saving for later. I silently cheered Monsieur Barneau’s persistence. Bri had been too late with her laxative, it seemed.
After passing Kincraig, I sped up. There was only one path back to reality—the bride’s ring. Everything would be all right once I had it. Aidan Murray would become a footnote in the story of my life, easily forgettable.
I should have anticipated that fate would throw me another curve.
The police officer was a tall man with dreamy, baby-blue eyes that seemed at odds with his uniform. Maybe that’s why he immediately put on sunglasses after taking off his helmet. It couldn’t be because of the sun, which, exhausted from its brief foray, was resting behind the clouds again.
The guardian of the law sauntered around the truck, then stopped in front of the bonnet and wrote down the number plate so slowly that it seemed like a joke. My stomach was acting up. I had immediately discarded the thought of switching seats with Bri, who at least had a driver’s licence—there’d been no time, anyway. Worried, I stared at the police officer’s name tag. This was a clear sign that god hated me.
Bell. It was the police officer who had been called to the Castle Hotel last night because of an old lady’s crime against soup. Damn it, was there only one policeman in this stupid town? A ticket was one thing, but Officer Bell would probably suspend my driving privileges as soon as he found out that I was driving without a licence. I wasn’t ready to even think about the matter of the “borrowed” car.
“Lock the doors and don’t roll down the window, no matter what,” Bri hissed behind me. “The best thing would be to step on the accelerator and scram.”
I looked back in disbelief.
She jutted her chin forward. “What? The guy looks like a serial killer. How do we know that his uniform is even real?”
“Oh my god!” Li turned even paler.
“It’s what they do, these sickos,” Bri continued. “Pretend to be a cop so you’ll follow them to a remote location and then—”
“Bri! Haven’t you already done enough to make Li feel miserable? Do you have to scare her, too?”
A suspicious look appeared on Li’s face. Bri’s laughter sounded forced.
“What do you mean, Josie?” Li asked with big, fearful eyes.
I bit my lip and peeked at Bri. Li was looking at her sister, who had actually lost a little of her colour despite her pointedly casual expression.
“What does Josie mean, Bri, saying that you’ve done enough to make me feel miserable?”
Bri opened her mouth, but at that very moment, the policeman knocked on the window. I defied my aunt and rolled it down. My saccharine smile was reflected in Bell’s mirrored sunglasses.
“Madam.” Not a single muscle stirred in his face.
Fascinated, I stared at his pinched mouth that resembled the end of a tiny balloon.
“A wonderful morning to you, Officer. I must say, you Scots do wear handsome uniforms. Our men in blue could really learn something from you,” Bri blurted from the back seat.
“And what gorgeous weather we’re having today. Those lovely fleecy clouds,” Li chimed in, matching Bri’s best high school English. “Sheep clouds, you understand? They look like sheep—baaa.” She waved her arms around.
Officer Bell remained straight-faced. Then he uttered the words I’d feared ever since the piercing siren almost stopped my heart.
“Licence and registration, please.”
A list of excuses exploded like fireworks in my brain. “Just a moment,” I said in as friendly a manner as I could and bent forward to rummage in the glove compartment—as if I might find a clever solution there among the sweet wrappers and crushed soft drink cans. My period of grace lasted barely half a minute, just long enough to reveal that Aidan liked liquorice. Bell cleared his throat and I looked up.
“It seems I forgot my driver’s licence.” With a guilty grin, I pushed forward to the next confession. Maybe I would get lucky and
find that Scottish law enforcement took a more relaxed view of things. “As for the registration, I’m sure it’s here—”
“I was driving,” Bri interrupted from the back seat.
Bell took off his sunglasses, raised an eyebrow, and turned to my glowing face. He seemed like a confused boy who’d grown up too fast, but he had the power to throw us in jail. He completely ignored Bri as she climbed out of the truck and stood protectively next to my door.
“Is this your car, madam?” His child’s eyes drilled a hole through me.
There it was. I wasn’t just defeated, I was dead.
“The car belongs to a friend. It’s on loan,” I assured him. Then something amazing happened.
The tiny mouth opened and grew wider and wider. Officer Bell was laughing—a deep, unexpected laugh.
“Nice try, madam. But I just happen to know that the owner of this car would never loan it to anyone—and certainly not to a woman.” He held up three fingers. “So we are talking about three offences here—driving without a licence, with no registration, and in a stolen vehicle!” He almost sounded amused.
Dumb jerk is probably just thrilled he gets to do something other than hand out parking tickets for once.
“Listen, sir, I already told you. I was the one driving. Here’s my licence.” Bri tugged on Bell’s sleeve. She reached into her purse—and a little plastic baggie fell to the ground. “Oh, that’s . . .”
She bent down, but the policeman was faster.
“That’s nothing.” Bri turned pale.
It’s not easy to say who was more stunned, Officer Bell or I, as we realised what was in the bag he held between his thumb and index finger like a dead mouse.
“Offence number four,” Bell said after an awed pause, reaching for his radio. “Possession of illegal drugs. I’m going to need all of you to get out of the car. I’m requesting a police car to take you to the station.”
“Did he say drugs?” Li called out. “What drugs? Why would anyone have drugs?”
“I’d be interested to know the answer myself.” Scowling, I pushed the door open and planted myself, hands on hips, in front of Bri.
Kissed by the Rain Page 15
