‘Paul, I’d love to come to work for you, but I can’t. I’m leaving.’
‘Leaving?’
‘Lynette and I, we’ve decided to go back to Edinburgh. Dad doesn’t need us now, and . . . well, we want to go.’
‘Want to go? You don’t want to go.’ Paul’s face was suddenly pale; he was no longer on champagne. ‘It’s Torquil, isn’t it? You’re hoping you can solve the problem by running away to Edinburgh. What makes you think you can do it?’
‘I have to do it, Paul. It’s my only chance. If I’m going with my sister, he might understand that things have changed for me. My dad’s getting married, Ishbel should have my job – I’m sure he’ll see that it’s best for me to go.’
‘He still hasn’t mentioned marriage, then?’
‘We’ve never discussed marriage. I used to think about it, in the early days. Now I know it wouldn’t work out.’
‘Yet you’ve told me you could never leave him. What’s changed, then?’
‘Paul, I know I have to leave him. It will be my best chance, to go with Lynette.’
‘And to think you might have worked with me,’ he said, with a bitterness strange to him. ‘Can you really not consider it?’
‘It’s not possible. Torquil might let me go home. He’d never want me to work with you.’
‘Yet he sees me as no threat. Why would he care?’
‘Going hill walking now and again is one thing, working with you all the time, that’d be different. And I’d never be free, would I? I wouldn’t be far enough away.’
Monnie suddenly caught at Paul’s arm. ‘Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry! You were so happy, showing me your climbing school, just over the moon, and now I’ve made you sad and worried again. Say I haven’t spoiled things for you? Please?’
‘Of course you haven’t.’ His face was relaxing, he was finding a smile. ‘I’m here, eh? I’ve found my dream, just as you said. So, let’s lock up, go to Glenelg and have tea.’
But when they were in the car, negotiating the drive, Paul did say quietly, ‘And let’s not say another word about a certain nameless fisherman.’
‘Not another word,’ Monnie promised.
Fifty-Six
Having told Monnie that ‘today was the day’, Lynette decided that the morning was not going to be ‘the morning’. No, she’d stick to Reception, working without a break so that she need not venture into Ronan’s office, or even have coffee with Scott, and then have lunch and . . . yes, tell Ronan after that. Of course, he might have a meeting, or something. She might not be able to tell him . . . He did not have a meeting, she could see him any time. When the clock raced on to two o’clock, she knew she must find the courage that had deserted her and with a murmured excuse to Fionola, went to Ronan’s door and sharply knocked.
‘Come in,’ came his familiar voice, and after a moment’s hesitation, she opened his door and faced him.
‘Lynette!’
At once, he left his desk and came to her, closing the door behind her and drawing her to a chair. ‘Lynette, what have you been doing all day? I left my office this morning, saw you beavering away, but you didn’t even catch my eye. What’s happening? Is something wrong?’
‘We were very busy this morning, Ronan. I didn’t even have time to have coffee.’
‘That’s all it was?’
With his extraordinary eyes on her, seeming to act like X-rays seeing into her mind, she shook her head. ‘No, it’s not all. What’s the point in telling lies?’
‘Lies, Lynette? Who’s been lying?’
‘I mean, making excuses. Pretending I was busy, when . . . when I was just putting off talking to you.’
His face was taking on the sombre look she had last seen when she’d first asked him to go to Edinburgh with her, and he was sitting back at his desk almost as if they were once again in interviewing mode.
He’s putting up all his defences, she thought. He knows what’s coming. Get it over with, then. Tell him.
‘Ronan, we’ve been circling round each other for days, haven’t we? As though we could put this conversation off for ever.’
‘Why not? Why not keep the status quo, if it means we don’t have to hurt each other?’
‘Because we can’t go on like that, and you know it. For us to be really together, one of us has to give in. That’s what you said, isn’t it? But neither of us will.’
‘So?’
‘So, I’ve made the decision, Ronan. I’m going back home. I mean, Edinburgh.’
If Ronan had been trying to put up his defences, he now let them go. His face changed, his whole serious manner dissolved, and he ran from his desk to take Lynette in his arms.
‘No, Lynette, no, you can’t do that. I can’t let you go. You mean too much to me. Oh, God, you’re not serious, are you? You’re just trying this on, to make me—’
‘Go to Edinburgh?’ she cried. ‘Well, will you? Will you come with me, Ronan?’
‘Please don’t ask me,’ he answered, kissing her. ‘I know it’s what you want and I wish I could say yes, but I can’t do it, I can’t leave this place. I belong here, it’s part of me. If you love me, you’ll understand.’
‘But you make no effort to understand me, Ronan! I told you, I think this place is beautiful and I’d always want to come here for visits, but I’d die if I had to live here all the time. Looking at the scenery, seeing so few people, getting everything late, never seeing a film, never going dancing except to a ceilidh once in a blue moon . . .’
Wrenching herself away, Lynette faced him with tears spilling from her lovely eyes, and finished quietly, ‘You need someone born and bred here, dear Ronan, someone who’ll be able to share the life you want with you. I can’t do it. I wish I could.’
He turned his face aside and made no answer.
‘Look, be reasonable,’ she cried, shaking his unresponsive arm. ‘If we were to get married, we might be happy for a while and then it would all fall apart. Because we want different worlds. If you were in Edinburgh, you’d start dreaming of being back here. If I were here, I’d be homesick for the city. Can’t you see, it’s an impasse?’
‘An impasse,’ he repeated dully. ‘All your talk tells me one thing. You don’t love me enough.’
She drew back. ‘Someone else once said that, about us both.’
‘Who? Who said it?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ The tears she had been fighting began to roll down her cheeks. ‘Because it’s true.’
There would be things to discuss. Practical things, such as when she should put in her notice, but they didn’t have the heart to speak of them then, and with distraught faces, they parted.
‘May I kiss you goodbye?’ Lynette whispered.
‘We are not saying goodbye yet.’
‘I’ll go back to Reception then.’ Her voice trembled. ‘Better wash my face first, I think.’
‘You look fine,’ he said with a groan. ‘Beautiful. You always do.’
Saying no more, she let herself out and made her way back to Reception where Fionola stared at her aghast.
‘Lynette, what’s happened? You look—’
‘I know how I look.’ Lynette glanced around at the guests in the vestibule, grateful that they weren’t watching. ‘All right if I just go and tidy up a bit?’
‘But what’s wrong? Lynette, tell me. I think you should go home, or else have a coffee with Scott, or something. Lunch is finished, he’ll be free.’
‘I don’t want a coffee with Scott just at the moment. Look, you might as well know, I’m leaving this job, Fionola. I’m going back to Edinburgh.’
Fionola caught her breath and stared, her eyes huge on Lynette’s tear-stained face. ‘I don’t believe it! No, it can’t be true. Why? Why are you leaving?’
‘I’m leaving here, I’m leaving Ronan. Look, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll go and wash my face, OK?
‘OK,’ Fionola repeated, still stunned, as Lynette walked swiftly away towards the cloakroom.
But she was not to get there, for Scott was in the corridor coming towards her. One look at her face made him take her arm and open the glass door to the gardens.
‘This way, Lynette. You can tell me what’s wrong and then you can come to my kitchen for a coffee.’
‘No, I don’t want to, Scott. I don’t want to talk to you just yet. Later, maybe.’
‘Now,’ he said firmly, and made her walk with him almost to the edge of the grounds where there were steps down to the shore. ‘There’s a bench here where no one can see us. Come on, you poor lassie. Tell me what’s happened, as though I couldn’t guess.’
Fifty-Seven
‘Haven’t we done this before?’ Lynette asked, wearily, sitting close to Scott on the bench from where they could look down at the Sound.
‘What of it? Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘I think you’ve already guessed, I’ve just parted from Ronan.’
‘You can talk to me,’ he said softly. ‘I’m a friendly shoulder.’
‘More than that.’
‘Aye, that’s true. And I don’t think you owe anything to our Mr Allan. If he’s no’ willing to do what you want, he doesn’t deserve you.’
‘It was too much to ask, when I wouldn’t do what he wanted.’
‘Face it, he’s just no’ the one for you, Lynette.’
‘I can still feel sad about it.’
‘I know. But what’s the plan? You give in your notice, go back to Edinburgh?’
‘That’s it. Monnie and me, we’re going back together.’
‘Would it surprise you to know that I’m about to do the same?’
Lynette paused in dabbing her hankie at her eyes, but the look she gave Scott was wary. ‘Oh, yes? Another coincidence?’
‘It is, then, because I fixed this up before I knew what you were going to do. I mean, you might have made it up with Ronan, mightn’t you?’
‘What did you fix up then?’
‘Remember I told you I had an appointment in George Street when we were in Edinburgh? Well, it was with the bank. I was negotiating a loan.’
‘A loan? You kept it very secret.’
‘Sure, didn’t want to look a fool if I didn’t get it. But, I did get it and – wait for it – I am now the proud owner of a restaurant in the High Street. I’m going solo.’
‘Scott!’ For the first time that day, Lynette’s attention was on something other than her own troubles. ‘That’s wonderful news! Oh, I’m so happy for you. Does Ronan know?’
‘No’ yet. I’m just deciding when to tell him. Guess he’ll no’ be too pleased, but Hamish is good. I’ve trained him and he’s just about ready to take over.’
‘As Fionola will probably take over from me.’
‘In more ways than one, maybe.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Och, who cares?’ Scott’s face was serious. ‘Listen, here’s an offer. How about coming to work for me at my restaurant? My Scottish restaurant, I should say, because Scottish food is going to be my specialty. Don’t look like that, I’m serious.’
‘Scott, I’ve had a few lessons but I’m no cordon bleu. I couldn’t work for you.’
‘No’ as a chef, though I reckon you would do well. No, I’m thinking manager. Accounts. Back room stuff that I’d be no good at, but you would. What do you say?’
‘I’m not an accountant. You’d need somebody properly qualified.’
‘Yes, I’ll have to have a qualified accountant, I know that, but all the day-to-day stuff, ordering, managing the staff – Lynette, you’d be ideal for it. You’ve a good practical head, which is no’ true of me, because all I want is to cook.’ Scott’s brown eyes were pleading. ‘Come on, you could give it a go, eh? I mean, back in Edinburgh, you’re going to need a job.’
‘I’d say yes like a shot, if . . .’
‘If what?’
‘Well, if things were different between us.’
‘Lynette, I promise, there’ll be no strings. A strictly business arrangement is what I’m offering.’ Scott paused, looking down for a moment. ‘I know how you feel about Ronan, I’m no’ expecting you to change just like that. But there might come a time when you do change. And if you do –’ he looked up, his craggy features melting into a smile – ‘I’ll be there.’
‘I should say I’d like to think about it,’ she said quietly. ‘But I don’t need to. Scott, I’m going to accept your offer, and say thank you.’
‘No need for thanks,’ he said fervently. ‘No’ from you.’
‘Maybe we needn’t say anything about this to Ronan? I mean, for now?’
‘Won’t say a word. Listen, want to know what I’m going to call the restaurant? Och, you’ll never guess, but I’ll give you a clue. It’s a place you know.’
‘A place I know? I can’t think. Tell me.’
‘The Conair,’ he answered, with a grin. ‘Like it?’
‘Scott, I think it’s perfect. Well done.’
‘Feel like a coffee now, or a nice cup of tea?’
‘Thanks, but I must go back to the desk.’
They rose, aware, as they walked back into the hotel, that they had both passed over a bridge into a completely new phase.
‘Feel a bit better now?’ asked Scott, opening the glass door.
‘In a way.’ But her face had grown troubled again, as her interest and pleasure in Scott’s news began to fade. ‘It’s going to take time, Scott, you know that, eh?’
‘Aye. No need to worry, Lynette. We’ll take things as they come.’
They touched hands and slowly went their separate ways.
I hope we’re busy this afternoon, Lynette said to herself, returning to Reception. So that I don’t have any time to think.
But then if the new job at Scott’s restaurant came into her mind, there would perhaps be no need not to think of that.
Fifty-Eight
When his girls told Frank that they were planning to return to Edinburgh, he was astonished. He’d had no idea, he cried, no inkling whatsoever that they weren’t happy in the Highlands. How could it have escaped him?
They had all just finished another fine meal cooked by Ishbel in the warden’s flat when Lynette and Monnie had broken the news. Now, Frank and Ishbel were exchanging startled glances, with Ishbel reaching for Frank’s hand and Frank shaking his head, as though what was happening was quite beyond his understanding.
‘Dad, we never said we weren’t happy,’ Lynette said quickly. ‘Why, Monnie loves it here, don’t you, Monnie? And I’ve enjoyed being here, too. But, we have to go.’