Coming Home to Brightwater Bay

by Holly Hepburn

  He wrapped up the recording and thanked them both again. ‘I hope you didn’t mind the wee curveball at the end,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Our listeners love to feel they’ve got the inside scoop.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Merry said politely, and Jess nodded her agreement.

  Fraser seemed relieved. ‘That’s good. It’ll go out in tomorrow’s broadcast, so do have a listen. And thanks again for taking the time to come in.’

  It wasn’t until they were outside that Jess gave Merry an incredulous look. ‘I see what you mean about it being different from any other interview. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked if I fancy any of the locals before.’

  ‘It’s a first for me too,’ Merry said wryly. ‘But I suppose if it helps to sell a few books…’

  She trailed off as Jess’s comments replayed in her head. I do have my eye on a certain someone… Any other time, she’d demand to know who it was but this time she was afraid of the answer. Surely it couldn’t be Niall, not after all her best friend’s encouragement to pursue him herself. But Merry had insisted she didn’t see him that way and, as Jess had pointed out, she’d only been on Orkney for a few days – the possibilities were limited. If it wasn’t Niall, who could it be? And if it was Niall… how did that make Merry feel?

  ‘Come on,’ Jess said. ‘Let’s find somewhere decent for lunch. My treat.’

  Merry forced herself to smile. What did it matter if Jess had a crush on Niall? It wasn’t as though he was off-limits – he was fair game, the same as any other single man on Orkney. But she still couldn’t bring herself to ask Jess who she’d meant. Some things were better left unsaid, she decided, and pushed the thought firmly out of her head.

  ‘Good idea,’ she told Jess, linking her arm through hers. ‘I think it’s time I introduced you to the joy that is Eviedale’s sourdough pizza.’

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Loved the interview today! Are you busy tomorrow night?

  The message from Clare Watson was one of many Merry received on Wednesday morning, after Around Orkney had finished its thirty-minute broadcast. She shared them all with Jess, who shook her head in wonderment.

  ‘This place is amazing,’ she said. ‘So much love for books and authors.’

  ‘I told you – writers are like rock stars here.’ She smiled a little wistfully. ‘I’m going to miss being a minor celebrity.’

  Jess leaned back into the sofa and gazed out of the window at the clear blue skies over the bay. ‘At least you’ve got another month of it. I have to go back to grey old London on Friday.’

  There were worse places to live, Merry thought dryly, but she knew what Jess meant. London could be breathtakingly beautiful, especially in the summer, but it didn’t have the islands’ endless skies and ethereal golden light. She didn’t know whether it was the landscape or its people or both, but Orkney seemed to wrap itself around the heart and make the thought of leaving impossibly hard.

  ‘You could always come back,’ she suggested.

  ‘I could,’ Jess said, and stretched with cat-like grace. ‘You know, I might just do that.’

  Merry’s phone vibrated, indicating another message. She picked the handset up and swiped the screen. ‘Clare wants to know if we’re up for a dinner party tomorrow night, at their place.’

  Jess frowned. ‘Remind me – who is Clare again?’

  ‘You met her briefly on Friday,’ Merry said. ‘Blonde hair, beautiful smile, owns the farm up the road and keeps llamas. You’ll like her, I think.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I remember,’ Jess said. ‘I thought we might go for a drink in Kirkwall, since it’s my last night here. But a dinner party could be fun, as long as she’s not the type to try and match us up with her terminally single friends. Who else is going to be there?’

  ‘I’ll ask,’ Merry said and tapped at her phone.

  Moments later, the screen lit up again. ‘You, me and Niall,’ she said. ‘Plus Clare and her husband, Hugh, of course.’

  Jess visibly brightened. ‘That’s fine, then. And it would be great to see Niall again before I go – let’s do it.’

  Pushing aside a faint needle of irritation, Merry typed in their acceptance. ‘Done. Sheila says Clare’s a fantastic cook. You might even get to meet Gordon the goat.’

  ‘The master criminal himself,’ Jess replied, grinning. ‘I can’t wait!’

  * * *

  Hugh insisted on coming to pick them up on Thursday evening.

  ‘I’ve got to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow anyway,’ he said, when Merry and Jess thanked him. ‘And I think Clare wants to impress you with her fancy wine list. It’s all wasted on me – I’m a whisky man through and through.’

  Clare met them at the door of the farmhouse. She hugged Merry, enveloping her in a cloud of sea salt and freesia, and then stood back to smile at Jess. ‘Lovely to see you both, thanks so much for coming.’

  ‘Thanks for inviting us,’ Jess answered. ‘I can’t think of a better way to spend my last evening on Orkney.’

  ‘We’ll try to give you a good send-off,’ Clare promised. ‘Niall’s through in the living room. I hope you won’t mind but he’s brought a friend.’

  Jess sent an accusing look Merry’s way and she had to bite her lip to fight down a sudden giggle. ‘Anyone I know?’

  ‘Oh, I think you’ve met,’ Clare said enigmatically and led them down the hallway.

  ‘If it’s anyone over fifty, I’m running for the hills,’ Jess hissed, grabbing Merry’s sleeve. ‘Unless he’s George Clooney, obviously.’

  The mystery guest turned out to be Andrew, which allowed Merry a sigh of relief. Clare wasn’t matchmaking – she’d simply invited guests Merry and Jess knew and liked.

  ‘Hullo again,’ Andrew said and grinned at Jess. ‘How’s the head?’

  ‘Better, thanks,’ Jess replied. ‘I hope you’re not mixing the drinks tonight.’

  Clare laughed. ‘No fear. I’ve been slaving over a hot oven for hours – you all need to be sober enough to appreciate the results!’

  Merry and Jess both accepted her offer of prosecco and settled onto the comfortable-looking sofas in the heart of the oak-beamed room.

  ‘Great interview yesterday,’ Niall said. ‘Fraser was on good form, I thought.’

  ‘He was nosy, you mean,’ Clare sniffed, coming back into the room with a champagne flute in each hand. ‘But Merry and Jess handled it perfectly.’

  Andrew shook his head. ‘He’s a journalist – they’re always on the lookout for a good story.’

  ‘But I bet he didn’t ask the same question when he interviewed the last Writer in Residence,’ Jess pointed out.

  ‘No idea,’ Andrew replied. ‘He was so boring that I think I fell asleep.’

  Niall shifted on the sofa. ‘I do try to choose authors who’ll appeal to different readers on the islands,’ he said mildly.

  ‘But you’ve got to admit you struck gold with Merry here,’ Clare said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen such consistently big crowds over the six month residency.’

  Merry felt her face start to burn with mingled pride and embarrassment. ‘I don’t get anything like those numbers back in London,’ she protested. ‘Orkney clearly has a lot of dedicated readers.’

  ‘And you’ve done a brilliant job of engaging them,’ Niall said with a warm glance. ‘Our next Writer in Residence has some big shoes to fill.’

  ‘Speaking of shoes,’ Clare said grimly. ‘Did Hugh tell you Gordon ate my favourite pair?’

  ‘No!’ Merry said. ‘Honestly, is there anything that goat won’t eat?’

  ‘Not that we’ve found,’ Clare replied with a sigh.

  ‘It was your own fault,’ Hugh rumbled. ‘You left them outside the backdoor and you know he’s partial to a daisy.’

  Clare rolled her eyes. ‘The kind that grow, not the ones attached to my expensive sandals!’

  Everyone laughed and the conversation moved on to some of Gordon’s even more outrageous crimes. Clar
e flitted in and out, checking on the food, and announced ten minutes later that their starters were ready.

  ‘I hope you like scallops,’ she said to Jess as they took their seats around the long kitchen table. ‘Hand-dived this morning and straight from the boat.’

  ‘Love them,’ Jess replied. ‘And they smell amazing.’

  Merry found herself facing Niall, with Andrew on her left and Jess diagonally opposite. Hugh and Clare sat at the head of the table and conversation flowed easily as they ate. The scallops were expertly cooked, and every bit as delicious as they smelled. Then there was a main course of crispy salmon fishcakes, topped with a glistening poached egg and drizzled with an exquisite beurre blanc sauce. It was as good as anything Merry had been served in a London restaurant and she told Clare as much.

  ‘Oh, bless you, I don’t know about that,’ she said, her cheeks pink with pleasure. ‘But it’s hard to go wrong when the raw ingredients are so fresh.’

  Niall glanced across at Hugh. ‘I don’t know how you’re not the size of a house if you eat like this all the time.’

  Hugh let out a snort of amusement. ‘You think she goes to this much trouble when it’s just me?’

  Clare glanced at him, unperturbed. ‘You do all right, Hugh Watson.’

  Merry tried not to watch the way Jess reacted to Niall as the evening wore on. Clare had chosen excellent wine – Hugh had been right – and Jess grew more tactile with each course of the meal. By the time the spectacular rhubarb crumble sundae was served, Merry was finding it hard not to grit her teeth every time her best friend laid a hand on Niall’s arm, or laughed a little too hard at his jokes. It was the wine, she told herself firmly. Jess was just being Jess after a few drinks – expansive, charming and a tiny bit over-friendly. But it grated on Merry’s nerves all the same.

  Determined not to let it spoil her evening, she turned to Andrew. ‘So how long have you played the guitar?’

  ‘As long as I can remember,’ he answered. ‘Niall and I used to be in a band together when we were teenagers but you know how it is – artistic differences and all that.’

  Niall glanced across the table. ‘What Mr Handsome over there means is that he used to get all the girls and the rest of us had to stand around and watch.’

  Jess raised her eyebrows. ‘I can believe that Andrew was popular with the ladies but surely you got more than your fair share too?’

  ‘You’re forgetting one crucial thing,’ Niall said gravely. ‘I’m a librarian. There’s nothing sexy about that.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Jess said, aiming an innocent look at the ceiling. ‘I think it kind of depends who you ask.’

  Niall laughed. ‘It helped that Andrew was a double Ba’ champion, man and boy. He’s practically Lionel Messi by Orkney standards.’

  ‘Ba’?’ Merry repeated, looking back and forth between the two men. ‘What’s that?’

  Clare grinned. ‘I can’t believe you’ve been here this long and no one has described the madness that is the Kirkwall Ba’ Game. You’ve been lucky.’

  ‘Don’t listen to her,’ Hugh said. ‘The Ba’ Game is a feat of skill and strategy that happens every Christmas Day and New Year. Basically, all the men in Kirkwall are split into two teams—’

  ‘The Uppies and the Doonies,’ Andrew cut in.

  ‘Aye, you’re either an Uppy or a Doony, depending on the family you belong to or which part of town you were born in,’ Hugh agreed. ‘It’s one huge football match, played for the honour of our ancestors. The Doonies are trying to get the ba’ into Kirkwall Bay and the Uppies have to touch the ba’ against a wall in the southern end of town.’

  ‘Football,’ Clare said, with a snort. ‘It’s more like a cross between rugby and a mass brawl. And it goes on for hours. I’ve known it take more than eight hours for someone to get the ba’ across the metaphorical line.’

  ‘Hardly anyone gets injured,’ Andrew objected. ‘In the teams, at any rate. The spectators are sometimes collateral damage.’

  ‘Sounds like the kind of sport my fellow Kiwis would love,’ Jess said. She looked at Andrew. ‘And you’ve won it twice?’

  He nodded. ‘There’s a boy’s match in the morning and a men’s match in the afternoon. I’ve been lucky enough to be on the winning side in both matches, although a few years apart.’

  ‘Only because you carried the ba’ over the rooftops,’ Niall observed, then sighed as he glanced at Jess and Merry. ‘Which is entirely within the rules and got him presented with the ba’ itself at the end of the match.’

  It sounded exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure, Merry thought, and she couldn’t imagine anything she’d like to do less. ‘So which team has won the most?’

  ‘The Uppies,’ Andrew said, pride evident in his tone. ‘Obviously the better team.’

  Hugh nodded his agreement but Niall shook his head. ‘I think, if you check with the Orkney Archive offices, you’ll find that the Doonies have won more.’

  Andrew took a deep breath, obviously preparing himself to argue, and Clare cleared her throat meaningfully. ‘If we’ve all finished eating, why don’t we take this fascinating discussion through to the living room?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Hugh said. ‘That’s where the whisky is, after all.’

  But by the time they’d thanked Clare for the outstanding meal, and taken themselves through to the sofas, the fire had gone out of the argument and the conversation moved onto other subjects. Eventually, Merry found herself hiding two consecutive yawns and glanced at her watch to discover it was almost midnight.

  She glanced over at Jess, who was sandwiched between Andrew and Niall. ‘We should probably make a move,’ she said.

  ‘Us too,’ Niall agreed. ‘We’ll drop you back at the croft if you like. Save Hugh from having to go out.’

  ‘That would be great,’ Merry said. ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘None at all,’ Niall replied, smiling. ‘We’re heading that way.’

  They thanked Clare and Hugh for their hospitality, and Jess promised to send Clare a copy of her new book as soon as it was available.

  ‘That’ll make Sheila grind her teeth with jealousy,’ Clare said, grinning in delight.

  Then they climbed into Niall’s car and drove down the track that led to the main road. A few minutes later, they were outside the croft and Jess was saying goodbye.

  ‘So good to see you again,’ she said to Andrew, throwing her arms around him before turning to Niall. ‘And you – thanks for taking such good care of me.’

  She hugged him too, and Merry saw her whisper something into his ear before she stepped back. Whatever she’d said, it caused Niall’s face to turn pink. And that caused the glowing embers of Merry’s irritation to burst into sullen flames.

  ‘Thanks for the lift,’ she said, aware of the brusqueness in her tone but unable to prevent it. ‘Nice to see you again, Andrew.’

  She caught Jess looking sideways at her but ignored her friend. Instead, she turned and went into the croft.

  Jess stayed outside and Merry guessed she was waving the car off. No sooner had the front door closed, however, than Jess was confronting her. ‘Okay, Mer, what gives?’

  Merry pressed her lips together, determined not to give in to her annoyance but Jess wasn’t letting her off the hook. ‘Don’t pretend there’s nothing wrong,’ she went on. ‘You’ve been giving me daggers all evening and you were downright rude to Andrew and Niall out there. What’s going on?’

  And just like that, Merry’s temper broke. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong – you don’t seem to understand the concept of acting professionally.’

  Jess’s jaw dropped. ‘Come again?’

  The words tumbled from Merry’s mouth before she could stop them. ‘You know what I’m talking about. You’ve been draping yourself over Niall for the past four hours, flirting with him like we were in a nightclub instead of my friends’ house. I know you have a crush on him but you’re going home tomorrow, Jess. I have
to work with these people – it’s just not professional.’

  ‘So that’s it,’ Jess said quietly and took a deep breath. ‘For your information, I wasn’t flirting with Niall and I don’t have a crush on him.’

  ‘Don’t bother denying it,’ Merry snapped. ‘It was obvious to everyone in the room. And whispering in his ear when we got back here – what was that about if you weren’t flirting?’

  ‘That’s between me and Niall,’ Jess said evenly. ‘But I promise you it wasn’t anything close to flirting. I’m your best friend, for god’s sake – I’d never behave that way around someone you’re interested in.’

  That made Merry’s blood boil even more. ‘I’m not interested in him,’ she said furiously. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that? It’s our working relationship I’m worried about.’

  Jess tipped her head. ‘So you keep saying. But I’ve got to be honest, Merry – if the thought of Niall with another woman gets you this bent out of shape, perhaps you need to think about why.’ Turning on her heel, she headed for the bedroom. ‘I’m going to pack my case for the morning. And after that, I’ll sleep on the sofa.’

  The words took some of the fire from Merry’s anger. ‘It’s too small.’

  ‘That’s right, it is,’ Jess said, pausing in the doorway. ‘But I’d rather take my chances on there than have you try to stab me in the back while we sleep. Goodnight, Merry.’

  Her tone was so final that Merry knew better than to argue more. She locked herself in the bathroom, splashing water onto her flushed face and staring at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t been imagining it, had she? Jess had definitely been all over Niall – even Hugh must have noticed. Maybe she’d ask Clare in the morning, she decided, once she’d taken Jess to the airport. The last of her fury drained away as she rested her head against the coolness of the mirror, leaving an empty uncertainty in its place. She and Jess had never argued like this, not even once in their long friendship, and she had no idea how to make it right. She’d just have to hope a good night’s sleep would provide the answer.