by Emma Baird
Zac pulled at Katya’s hand, whispering, “The mini-bus. We’ll be on our own there.”
“I need to get my rucksack from the bus!” Katya said. Mhari shot her a sharp look, letting her know she wasn’t fooled. Still, it gave her a room all to herself and she stretched out, a blanket pulled over her and head rested on the cushion. Katya doubted she would be awake if or when they came back.
Outside, the silliness of creeping out of a house and along the streets to get up to all kinds of shenanigans in a mini-bus was so daft it made her giggle. Zac joined in, taking her hand in that rough one of his and musing about what the space in Jack’s mini-bus allowed.
He started up on all the things he would do to her. Not to be outdone she reciprocated, running through all the things on her sexual repertoire, some of which made him widen his eyes and say he didn’t think they were possible.
The car park appeared around the next corner. Only a few vehicles remained: two cars, a rusty old van, a camper van and...
No mini-bus.
CHAPTER 26
“He parked there, didn’t he?” Katya asked Zac, pointing to the empty space at the front, one of those marked out for buses and coaches. He nodded and the two of them paced the car park, hoping to spot a mini-bus hiding behind a stray tree or something. There was no sign of it.
“Do you think the council towed the mini-bus because it was in the wrong place?” Zac said, the southern mindset so ingrained he thought it the obvious answer to a missing car. In London and the south east cars were towed all the time.
“Nope,” Katya, “I think someone’s nicked it. And—”
“That means we need to go back to the house and tell Jack,” he finished.
A worthier thought than hers, as she’d meant to say, “Let’s find a hotel and pretend in the morning we never saw this.” But Zac was right. If it had been stolen only a few hours ago the sooner Jack reported it to the police, the better.
“Is the universe is trying to tell us something?” she asked, suddenly convinced she’d read whatever signs and omens wrongly.
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No,” and with that, he pulled her to him, lips seeking hers. She liked his mouth, the way it moved, firm and confident, and when she parted her lips, the tongue that met hers set off shivers all over her body. Everything about Zac was hyper-physical—the rough hands, the assured dancing, the feet capable of incredible things and now the lips, teeth and tongue that all grazed hers.
Psychic Josie, maybe you’re not such an old fraud after all...
They broke apart, though he kept hold of Katya’s hand as they walked back to the house, the streets deserted now and the wind howling a gale that froze her hands and feet. Back at the house, she argued with Zac about whose responsibility it was to tell Jack.
“Yours,” he said. “You’ve known him longer.”
“Yours,” she replied. “You can do that manly sympathy and understanding thing.”
Just as they were about to toss coins for it, Gaby appeared at the top of the stairs.
“You guys!” she said. “Is everything okay? Comfy enough? I’m happy to swap. It’s a bit... noisy up here.”
Gaby had left the bedroom door open—from it, the sound of decibel-breaking snores.
“Jack?” Katya whispered, and Gaby pulled an outraged face. “No, Stewart!” Katya’s oldest friend was, and always had been, criminally easy to wind up. Behind her, a tousled-haired Jack emerged, blinking in the light.
“Um, Jack,” Katya said, “did you move your mini-bus at any point tonight?”
He shook his head, puzzled and still half-asleep.
“It’s not where you left it. Zac and I needed to get something from it.” Gaby lifted one eyebrow. “And when we got to the car park, there was no sign of it.”
Jack swore, the sleepiness banished in an instant. He mouthed something to Gaby, retrieved his phone from the bedroom and vanished into the bathroom where a muffled conversation took place.
“So, um, had you left anything valuable in the mini-bus?” Gaby asked. Katya knew what she really meant, and her shake of the head confirmed the question. “Yes, Zac and I sneaked out to the minibus because we wanted some privacy to...”
“Coffee, anyone?” Zac said. “We might as well. It’ll be a long night.”
Gaby came down the stairs. “All right, then. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Jack knows people. We’ll get transport back easily enough.”
The kitchen was fully stocked. The house might not have the ideal sleeping arrangements, but the food in the cupboards and fridge was spot on. Fresh bread, eggs, bacon, milk, cereals, proper coffee, tea, hot chocolate and even Katya’s favourite brand of peanut butter. Zac put the kettle on and popped slices of bread in the toaster. Jack joined them a few minutes later.
“It’s sorted,” he said.
“What, reported to the police?” Katya asked, and he gave her a ‘don’t be daft’ look. “Lachlan Forrester. He knows all the robbing, thieving scumbags round here and the van will be back in place tomorrow. Fully valeted too.”
Mhari wandered in, attracted by the noise and the smell of toast. When she heard Lachlan Forrester would be there in the morning, she flushed. Gaby flashed Katya a triumphant grin. At last—something they could tease Mhari about—or info to hand over to the WhatsApp group.
Zac slathered toast with olive oil spread and peanut butter, and handed slices round, saving the last piece for Katya and taking a bite out of it first before sticking it in her mouth. By this point, it was 3 a.m., and she was dead on her feet. When Jack suggested they all try to get some sleep, she was so relieved she could cry. Zac and Mhari followed her into the living room as Gaby and Jack headed back up the stairs.
“I’ll take the armchair,” Katya volunteered. It looked comfy enough.
“No need,” Zac said, dropping gracefully into it. “You and Mhari have the sofas.”
Neither of them argued. Katya pulled the sofa’s cashmere throw from the back and wrapped it around her. She was asleep minutes later.
A horn’s beeping woke her in the morning. As Jack had promised, when she got up and looked out the front window, the mini-bus sat outside the house, gleaming. On the couch opposite her, Mhari opened her eyes and sat bolt upright. “Is that Lachlan? He’s early,” and with that, she jumped up and ran out of the room, taking her bag with her.
Zac stood up from the armchair, tipping his head from side to side and rubbing his neck. The armchair couldn’t have been comfortable. As he turned side-on, she spotted the not-very-subtle morning glory.
“Um, you might want to get rid of that before Mhari comes back.”
She got a sizzling look in return. “Well, there’s one obvious way...”
Footsteps clattered down the stairs. “Zac, Katya—are you up?”
Foiled again.
Two hours later and they headed back to Lochalshie in a mini-bus that was much cleaner than it was yesterday, the inside vacuumed and smelling of lavender. They were one person down. Mhari had wangled a lift back from Lachlan in his mud-encrusted Jeep. Katya had never met the mysterious Lachlan before and he’d come as a surprise. From all the talk—the illegal licence plate schemes and knowledge and influence in the criminal underworld—she’d expected a bearded skinhead complete with tattoos all the way up his arms and on his neck.
But Lachlan Forrester was thin, wiry and absent of tattoos or at least any you could see. Polite and well-spoken too. He’d shook everyone’s hands, apologised for their inconvenience and hid his dismay when Mhari asked for a lift home. Lachlan looked like a man who treasured peace and quiet, and the company of his own thoughts.
No one wanted to linger in Oban, the theft having put a dampener on everything. Miraculously enough, Stewart and Jolene had slept through everything the night before and the first they knew of it was Lachlan’s arrival first thing. Stewart and Lachlan exchanged high fives when Stewart heard he’d got the mini-bus back.
“Was that Joe and
Andy who nicked it, then?” Stewart had asked. “Ye’d think those two eejits woulda recognised the bus and no’...”
Jolene slapped his back hard. Better none of them knew the full extent of Lachlan’s criminal activities and acquaintances.
Next to her on the bus, Zac rested his head on Katya’s shoulder as the bus made its way out of the town heading north-west. The winds had given way to periwinkle-blue skies and a sun that hung so low in the sky it dazzled and forced Jack to put on sunglasses so he could drive safely.
“What shall we do when we get back?” Katya asked, sure of what she wanted. Talk about delayed gratification.
A heartfelt sigh. “Lots of things and all of them involve you and me naked. But I’ve gotta go down south.”
“What for?”
“Work stuff,” he said. “I’ve got to help Hammerstone Hotels out with their pre-Christmas retreats. I booked the flight weeks ago.”
“How long are you away for?” Ah well. As they’d waited so long already, what was another few days?
He straightened up. “Two weeks. Sorry.”
She worked the dates out. Two weeks would mean he was back two days after Christmas. Katya had promised her mother she would go back to Great Yarmouth for Christmas and her mum had demanded she stay until the Friday after as that was her youngest sister’s birthday.
“I’ll be away,” she said, explaining what she’d be doing. “I won’t be back until at least the thirty-first.”
Zac squeezed her hand. “Imagine what will happen at New Year,” he dropped his voice. “All good things come to those who wait.”
CHAPTER 27
When Katya opened the door the following morning at an hour far too early to be civilised, the sun was only just up, promising a bright but cold day.
“I want to hear all about you and Zac.” Katya’s best friend, ringer of the too-early doorbell, greeted her bright-eyed and far too cheery. “Are you an item now? And did you do the deed when you got back to Lochalshie on Saturday? Where’s his car, anyway? I went past his house just now and it’s not there.”
She glanced around her, no doubt seeking it out. He would have needed to hide it well. That flashy red motor stuck out a mile.
“He’s away for two weeks. That’s a lot of questions, Gaby. Which one do you want me to not answer first?”
“Oh, you meanie! You’re supposed to tell your best friend everything. The doing the deed one, I suppose.”
“I’ve never asked you about Jack.” Katya let the point sink in as Gaby screwed her face up. “Oh, okay, then.”
But she couldn’t resist the Oban restaurant story, enjoying Gaby’s incredulous reaction.
“In public? Goodness. If that’s what he can do when you’re both fully clothed, imagine what will happen when you’re not!” She grinned. “How on earth are you going to wait until he returns?”
Katya raised an eyebrow and made it clear what she’d be doing. As well as being a cinch to wind up, Gaby was easy to shock. She must be the only woman left in the world who had never owned a vibrator.
Startling revelations over and done with, Katya took in Gaby’s outfit—leggings, a hoodie and trainers, and pointed at them.
“Mmm,” Gaby said, “I thought I’d better take up jogging. It’s good for your mental health, right? After you’ve suffered trauma? And I’m seriously unfit. It doesn’t help Jack keeps force-feeding me his home-made shortbread.”
“Force-feeding?”
“Oh, okay, then. I keep scoffing it. He goes to the tin, sees he’s run out and makes more of the stuff. I can’t win. I wondered if you would take me out for a run with you and we could catch up on all your news.”
To show willing, she jogged on the spot doing that high knee thing and then kicking her butt with her heels. Katya ran two or three times a week, but on her own. She knew Gaby would set off too fast, exhaust herself after five minutes, complain for another ten and then give up.
Still, why let the lesson of experience (times ten) stop her now? And Katya wanted to mull over things. Confidential chats were much easier when you weren’t face to face with someone; panting alongside each other and needing distraction from the physical pain helped.
“Give me a few minutes to get changed.”
By the time she came out, Jolene, also wearing exercise gear, had appeared, her long-sleeved top covering her four-month bump. Stewart was there too, Scottie by his side, the dog wolfing what looked suspiciously like shortbread from Gaby’s hand.
“Are we all going jogging?” Katya asked. It was lovely to have this level of interest, but she’d wanted a chat with her best friend, not a group confessional session.
Stewart shook his head. “Naw. Running is for eejits. Nae offence lassies, but it’s only useful if ye’re trying tae get to the pub in a hurry. I just wanted to check ma Jolene was okay.”
Jolene patted him, sending him stumbling forward. “Yeah, I’m fine, eh? Off you toddle to the pub and I’ll catch you later.” He took her at her word, hurrying off so fast he proved perfect qualification for the morning’s jogging group.
Katya made Jolene promise she’d got the all-clear for jogging from her midwife, and they set off. She’d forgotten how fit Jolene was. Katya’s plan had been to set off at a snail’s pace so Gaby would last more than ten minutes, but Jolene flew off so fast Katya and Gaby were both panting hard by the time they got to the loch shore, Jolene ready to run around it. Gaby bent over, hands on her thighs.
“Last-night-then,” she said, the words coming out in between gasps.
“Did you and the Viking God finally get it on?” Jolene added, her voice unaffected. As she waited for Gaby to recover, she started doing squats. Katya watched awe-struck as she lowered her bottom almost to the ground before pressing up again.
They were too near a group of walkers for discreet conversation. Katya indicated they move off, walking so Gaby didn’t collapse, her friend nudging her gratefully in response. Once they reached the far point of the west side of the loch, Katya started jogging once more, going at a slow pace so Gaby could keep up.
“Do you promise you won’t tell anyone the next thing I’m about to tell you—especially, especially, especially not Mhari?”
Gaby promised and Jolene nodded. “My lips are sealed. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I... er, asked Psychic Josie for her advice.”
At that, Gaby and Jolene stopped and howled with laughter, so much so Katya had to shush them, the noise attracting attention from the walkers.
“Katya,” Gaby said when the laughter subsided, “if you’d told me three months ago you’d believe in a psychic you know to be a total fraud, I’d have eaten my hat.”
“Mate,” Jolene added, “Psychic Josie offered me a reading at the Highland Games and predicted travel. Unlikely, given my current condition, huh? And we all know who she really is. Worst kept secret in the Highlands.”
Neither of them was aware that Katya administered Psychic Josie’s website. All those articles where people told the psychic her advice was spot on. Aggrieved, Katya set off running once more. If Gaby was out of breath, it would stop her laughing so much. Not that funny, surely?
“Now you have to tell us what she said,” Gaby said, forced to run to catch up with Katya and Jolene and panting hard.
“Apparently Zac and I have an NSFW compatibility rating.”
“Ooh!” Obviously, Gaby and Jolene had a better grasp of internet slang than Katya. “Lucky you. Though of course I don’t believe in that rubbish,” Gaby said.
“And obviously, I asked Zac outright if he was married, like Jack suggested,” she said, “and he is.”
Her audience booed, panto style. Katya threw in a quick explanation for Jolene, though her lack of surprise indicated she already knew about Katya’s internet search. Gaby and her runaway mouth. She’d better keep the not-telling-Mhari promise.
“But he’s separated.” Cheers this time.
She repeated what he’d told her—em
phasising the bit where he said they’d only got married to annoy their parents and he hadn’t seen his about-to-be-ex-wife in months.
“I like him,” Jolene said. She jogged on, her conversation so normal that you’d never know she was exercising at the same time. By this point, they’d reached the south-west point of the loch. Gaby yelped in delight and stopped—an excuse Katya knew. She pointed at a tiny head dipping in and out of the water. “An otter!”
She and Jolene spent five minutes ooh-ing and aah-ing. Katya couldn’t comment, not yet native enough to recognise one or spot it that far away.
“You like Zac?” Katya asked once they’d moved on, the otter having decided he’d done enough entertaining humans for the day.
“I like all newcomers,” Jolene said, “having been one myself.” True. She’d come from New Zealand five years ago on a working holiday and for some inexplicable reason fell in love with Stewart and decided to stay. “It’s my duty to make them welcome.”
At that, she elbowed Gaby, the one-time newcomer. Except, this being Jolene, her elbow tap sent Gaby tumbling forward onto the sand.
Katya extended a hand to help haul Gaby back to her feet.
“But what about Dexter?” Gaby said, brushing her hands over her hoodie and leggings to get rid of the excess damp sand. “I must admit, Katya, I didn’t see that one coming, but you were so...”
Ah, the dot, dot, dots. And once again, a memory surfaced so fast it punched her in the face.
Dexter and Katya, a few weeks in and she had challenged him on his fitness.
“Plank on top of you!” she’d said, rolling out of their hotel bed. They’d spent the weekend in yet another luxurious place paid for by him, eating and drinking too much. The food and drink weighed heavily in her belly and he’d been talking about yoga, how awesome it was, how it made you super-strong, etc.
