A Flight of Fancy (Scottish Island Escapes Book 6)

by Margaret Amatt

  He took a quick shower but didn’t linger. Keeping Taylor waiting was just rude. He rubbed his hair dry and dragged a towel around his waist before slipping across the corridor into the dimly lit bedroom. Taylor was at the window in a pair of short pink pyjamas with a strappy top, peering through the curtains into the darkness.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, raiding his case for some PJs. She didn’t reply or turn around as he discarded the towel from his waist and pulled on his shorts and t-shirt. ‘Are you ok?’

  She backed away from the window, wiping her fingers under her eyes.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I just feel so bad. Your mom, your dad, everyone. They’re so kind, so nice. And I’m deceiving all of them.’

  He closed the space between them and put his arms around her, resting his lips on her hair. ‘Taylor, you don’t have to do this. If you want to leave, it’s ok. I’ll tell them things didn’t work out. I don’t want you to be hurt by this. I never thought it was a good idea. I wish I’d stuck to my guns.’

  ‘But that’s the problem. I don’t want to leave. I want to be here. I like being with you. It’s the deception I don’t like.’

  ‘So… what are you suggesting? That we come clean?’

  ‘No. Not that. Everything will change if they think I’m some big star. I like things being cosy. It’s such a shock to my system to go somewhere and be so warmly accepted. And it’s hard to stomach because it isn’t real.’

  ‘The feelings are real. My mum and dad are like this. Even when the week is over, and sometime down the line, I tell them we’ve split up, you’ll still have these memories.’

  ‘I guess.’ She withdrew from his hold, pulled back the grey check covers and got into the bed. ‘Oh, wow. It’s so warm.’

  ‘The electric blanket,’ he grinned. ‘You won’t want me warming you too.’

  She raised her watery gaze. ‘I do.’

  He got in and she curled into a ball, nestling in his arms. His cheek rested on her soft forehead and he closed his eyes. This felt like home. Not just the room, the house, or the island. But Taylor at his side.

  Chapter 11

  Taylor

  Taylor pushed the kitchen door closed as the kettle roared to the boil. She didn’t want to wake anyone. She flung her arms around herself and rubbed them. Never had she lived in a house this small. Once or twice she’d visited small apartments in LA and New York, where modern designs had been put into play to use every space, and sure, this house was bigger than that, a comfortable family home. But the Rousse family was used to grandeur, and size was everything. This kind of living was alien. Taylor opened a couple of cupboards and located a mug. She poured boiling water into it and clung to the hot china. Odd as this lifestyle may seem, so much of it appealed to her. Mostly abstract sentiments Taylor couldn’t pin down, but they floated around her like unseen guardians, keeping her safe in a place that should be alien. She cradled her mug, watching a flicker of light rising in the distance from the small kitchen window.

  Truly, it was just as well she was Taylor and not her twin sister. Skylar wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes if she’d got in the door. Even if she’d been acting, she’d have demanded a team of cleaners, not because the place was dirty, but she needed an utterly sterile environment. The furniture, which was cosy and had wear and tear born of family love, would have been thrown out and replaced with pristine new stuff before Skylar got within three metres of the place.

  Taylor wouldn’t change it for the world. The only thing she would change was the situation. All the plans had turned to dust overnight. What had seemed like a good idea was now a nightmare. So much for gate-crashing a wedding and Magnus’s life, she hadn’t stopped to consider the emotions involved. Not just hers, or his, but his whole family. Deceiving people as genuine as this felt all wrong.

  The door opened behind her and she spun around. ‘Good morning,’ said Fenella, stretching her hands behind her head, making her look like a fluffy pink bear in her giant house robe.

  ‘Hey,’ said Taylor. ‘That looks cosy.’ She’d settled for a hoody over her short pyjamas, but her feet and legs were like ice blocks.

  ‘Yes, it is. Carl got it for me for Christmas. I didn’t like to tell him it’s about six sizes too big for me. I might not be as trim as I used to be, but this has room for two more people.’

  ‘You look great to me.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fenella. ‘I’ve tried to be good for the last few months. It wouldn’t do for the mother of the groom to spoil the wedding photos by not fitting her dress.’

  Taylor laughed. ‘You’ll look great.’ She covered her mouth at a sudden thought. A dress! She’d come on the pretence of being Magnus’s date for the wedding, but she had nothing to wear. Skylar’s wardrobe was full of so much glitz, she could change three or four times for an event, but Taylor didn’t even have one of her red-carpet hand-me-downs. How could she explain this away? And where could she get a dress?

  ‘Is everything ok?’ asked Fenella, putting her hand on Taylor’s shoulder. ‘You look away in a dream.’

  ‘Sorry, yes. I think it’s the travelling catching up with me.’

  ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’

  ‘I did for a while.’ Being in Magnus’s comforting embrace had made dozing off easy. But once she’d woken, harsh reality crept in, making falling back to sleep impossible. The whole thing sucked, but at the same time, each second of this life was precious. ‘I think I’m still jetlagged.’

  ‘Oh, did you fly over this week? Magnus doesn’t say much, but I thought you were living together.’

  ‘Er, no. Not yet, you know,’ she fudged, uncertain what Magnus had already told her. ‘I work all over and I flew in the day we drove here. We met in Glasgow.’ A fragment of truth remained amidst the sea of ever-growing lies.

  ‘Oh dear, it’ll take your body time to adjust. Go and sit in the living room, it’s warmer. Just mind the dogs, they’ll jump all over you. In fact, I’ll let them out, that’ll keep them busy.’

  Taylor followed her along the hall; the carpet was lovely and soft on her bare feet after the cold lino in the kitchen. She held back as Fenella calmed the dogs and pulled the sliding door wide to let them out. A gush of chilled air filled the room before Fenella slammed it shut. ‘They can potter for a bit. I’ll walk them later. Oh, you look frozen. Hang on.’

  She left the room and Taylor curled into the squashy sofa, cradling her mug. Everything was so surreal. Her eyes half closed, but when she opened them again Fenella had come in and was holding a fleece blanket and a hot water bottle in a furry case. ‘This’ll help you keep warm for a bit. I’ll make some breakfast and coffee. Would you like anything?’

  ‘I’m ok, it’s a bit early for me.’

  ‘Yes. No problem. Per’s getting ready for work. I always get up with him, just from habit. I only work part-time these days, and I’m off today, thank goodness. I’m getting too old for classroom capers.’

  ‘Don’t you enjoy teaching?’

  ‘I do mostly, though some days, I feel more like a negotiator for the UN, the number of times I have to keep the peace.’

  A few moments after she’d left the room, the door opened a fraction and Per Hansen put his head round. ‘Good morning, and goodbye,’ he said. ‘I hope you enjoy your day and see some more of the island. I’ll catch up with you and Magnus later.’

  ‘Oh, sure.’ Taylor gave him a little wave. As he closed the door, she heard him speak in the corridor and Magnus’s low voice answered. He came in, yawning and stretching.

  ‘There you are. I wondered what happened to you.’

  ‘I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.’

  ‘Really?’ He flopped down beside her. ‘I went out like a light.’

  ‘Magnus.’ She sat up, placing her mug on a side table. ‘I remembered something.’

  ‘What?’ He lounged back, flipping his head to the side. ‘That you’re the most beautiful girl this side of the Atlantic?’
r />   Taylor opened her mouth to reply as Fenella walked in. Magnus coughed into his arm to hide a laugh and Taylor threw him a dirty glance. Fenella smiled serenely as she carried a plate and mug to the dining table by the window and sat down. ‘So, you’re driving to Carsaig today,’ she said.

  ‘Yup,’ replied Magnus.

  ‘Oh, you’ll love it down there, Taylor,’ said Fenella. ‘Stunning place. The road can be a bit dodgy at times, but Carl and Robyn have the most beautiful cottage.’

  ‘Yes, it’s very nice,’ said a shrill voice from the door. Jean hobbled in. ‘I think Magnus fancied it himself last year, didn’t you? When you were dating that other one.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Magnus raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Julie fancied it, but not me. I’m glad Carl got it.’

  ‘About time,’ said Jean. ‘He lived in a shed before that.’

  ‘Did he?’ said Taylor.

  ‘Sit down, Jean,’ said Fenella. ‘It wasn’t a shed, it was a lovely log cabin.’

  ‘Lovely?’ said Jean. ‘I’ve seen nicer dog kennels.’

  Magnus winked at Taylor. ‘I’m going to shower. We can head down early, there’s lots to do apparently, though god knows what. I hope they haven’t left anything important this late.’

  ‘You have to try on your kilt suit,’ said Fenella, ‘in case it needs adjusting.’

  ‘I don’t see why it would. I haven’t changed height or weight in the last few months.’ He got to his feet. Taylor sat for a moment after he’d gone, then got up.

  ‘I just remembered something.’ She hurried out and opened the bedroom door. His naked back filled her vision.

  He grabbed a towel and spun around. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘I thought you were Jean.’

  Taylor laughed. ‘Does she often walk in on you when you’re dressing?’

  ‘Don’t joke. I wouldn’t put anything past her.’

  ‘Listen, there’s a major problem.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t have anything to wear to the wedding, and I don’t suppose there are any women’s partywear stores on the island.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, what should I do? I can’t ask to borrow a dress from your mom because why would I come to a wedding without bringing one?’

  Magnus folded his arms and cocked his head. ‘Would you borrow one from my mum anyway?’

  ‘Why not?’ Oh, of course! Skylar wouldn’t borrow clothes from anyone, and definitely not a middle-aged woman.

  ‘You’ve had some kind of bonkers personality transplant,’ said Magnus. ‘I didn’t think you’d travel anywhere without at least six party dresses… per day. What’s going on? This is just a friends and family affair. If you have any kind of dress, it’ll be fine. You don’t need to go all out on the red carpet, they won’t mind, really.’

  Taylor compressed her lips, holding in her breath, her words, and her panic. After slowly exhaling, she nodded. ‘Yeah, the thing is, I didn’t bring anything like that. This is an escape. A week without my Hollywood twin.’ Her heart raced as she said the words, though Magnus wouldn’t get the significance. ‘This week I’m Taylor, and I want nothing to do with Skylar. So, I don’t have any dresses.’

  Shaking his head, Magnus looked around. ‘You sound like you have split-personality disorder, but I get what you mean. Ok… How about we tell my mum you must have forgotten to pick up your dress bag at one of the airports and see what she comes up with. Honestly, my mum has a solution for everything.’

  ‘Ok, ok.’ Taylor rubbed her temple. ‘Yes. Let’s do that.’

  Just as Magnus predicted, Fenella came up with not one solution but several, and all of them without even a hint of panic. ‘I can think of at least three lovely ladies on the island who are about your size and will probably have something they can loan you. Or we could take a trip over to the mainland, there are shops in Oban where we could get something. Leave it with me. I’ll call Robyn first. She’s the bride, so I don’t want to stress her out. I think you’re about the same height. If she has something, you can always pick it up when you’re there today.’

  The tension gone from her shoulders, Taylor jumped in the car, and Magnus put his foot down. ‘You’re not on the runway,’ she said, clinging to the handle above the passenger door.

  ‘I like to put in a bit of speed here, it’s the only straight and flat bit on the island.’ They rounded a bend and the road twisted away into the distance. ‘See what I mean? It’ll be a crawl for the next hour. You may as well sleep.’

  ‘No way. This might be my only trip to Scotland, I want to remember it.’

  ‘Well, good morning Ladies and… Lady.’ Magnus glanced at her and continued in a smooth voice. ‘Sit back and enjoy your flight to Carsaig. I’m your pilot, Magnus Hansen, and conditions for today’s journey look good. I don’t envisage any problems, so—’

  ‘Oh, shut up.’ Taylor slapped his thigh and he burst out laughing.

  The drive through the island was like a private tour, with Magnus relating the stories and passing on his first-hand memories. Taylor would have been happy with the scenery but his delight and energy gave her an added buzz. With clear cold weather, the sea views and rocky glens filled her with ideas for films. Not ones Skylar would ever star in; she baulked at period drama. But Taylor could see historicals set here, with dashing highlanders and island girls.

  ‘Is there anything I need to know about your brother before we arrive?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Magnus.

  Taylor didn’t push the question. Even a real girlfriend couldn’t be expected to know everything about everyone. She just hoped they hadn’t overlooked anything blatant.

  The road to the cottage was as narrow and twisty as Fenella had described. Taylor could drive, but this road scared the shit out of her. ‘Seriously, what do you do if something comes the other way?’

  ‘Find a passing place,’ said Magnus.

  ‘And if there isn’t one?’

  ‘Someone has to reverse.’

  Taylor massaged her temples. ‘I don’t think I could take the pressure. Who can reverse that far on twisty roads like this?’

  ‘Me.’ Magnus laughed.

  ‘Yeah, but not all of us are trained pilots. I guess that’s why you took up that career.’

  ‘I always enjoyed navigating, so maybe. Originally, I wanted to work on ships, but I got a flying lesson for my birthday one year and that changed everything. I don’t think my parents expected the gift to have such a dramatic effect on my choice of career.’

  ‘And they didn’t object to it?’

  ‘No. I’m not sure they thought I was serious at first, but when they realised I was, they were great about it. It isn’t the easiest career to get into so I was glad to have their support.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Taylor, ‘that must be a great feeling.’

  ‘Surely you know how it feels. Your parents must have supported you. They’re in the business, aren’t they?’

  ‘Oh… Yes, sure.’

  ‘Or didn’t they want you to follow in their footsteps?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ Taylor sank her teeth into her lower lip. Oh yes! Her parents had wanted both her and Skylar to follow them into acting, perhaps even rival the Olsen twins, but Taylor had fallen off the rails. She’d been the better actress but she suffered from nerves. When the big break came, she’d decided to go for it and brave Skylar’s fury. But before she could accept, the producer changed his mind. Skylar got the role. Taylor couldn’t prove it but she was convinced Skylar had got her drunk then masqueraded as her. She’d gone to the producer under a false pretence, saying she was too nervous to do the role. Skylar denied it. All Taylor remembered was waking with an aching head. But Skylar insisted Taylor had done the talking herself. Her parents started to doubt her sanity and she’d turned to drugs for comfort. ‘It’s always hard to live up to parental expectations, especially when they’re so big in the biz in their own right.’

  Magnus pulled a quizzical exp
ression. ‘I don’t know anything about them. I guess they’re not as famous over here.’

  You should google them. The words teetered on the edge of Taylor’s tongue and almost fell out. She stopped just in time. No way did she want that. If he googled them, he’d see their bio and possibly discover they had two daughters, one of whom was named Taylor! Why had she told him her real name? That was a question she knew the answer to. When they were close, that was the name she wanted to hear Magnus call out, not something fake, and definitely not Skylar.

  Taylor devoted the rest of the journey to filling in Magnus on her parents’ filmography, TV credits and life, in the hope of diverting him from a google search. As they pulled up the drive beside a long, low seashore with spindly, tangled winter trees alongside it, Taylor wondered if she should tell him the truth. But would that make things better? What if he banished her and she was stuck out here in the wild? Friendless and lost. He parked the car beside the gorgeous little seaside cottage. This was the stuff of dreams, a single-storey building with a stunning timber extension, looking out over a perfect view. Taylor exited the car and gaped around, sucking in the sea air and adding the view to her memories.

  ‘Come on, darling.’ Magnus smiled, taking Taylor’s hand and leading her to the door. ‘Let’s go and meet the lovebirds.’

  ‘And they can meet the lovebugs.’

  His blue eyes twinkled as he considered her. ‘Are you in love?’

  The door swung open before Taylor could reply, revealing a broad-shouldered man with a mass of sandy curls tucked behind his ears. Carl, the third brother; the resemblance in the eyes and the smile was uncanny.

  ‘Hey!’ The two brothers clapped each other on the shoulders.

  ‘Not getting a haircut for the wedding?’ asked Magnus.

  ‘Robyn likes it,’ said Carl.

  ‘Verging on TMI,’ said Magnus.