‘Thanks,’ she muttered, trying to ignore the jolt she felt at his touch.
‘Did you bring a jacket or kagoul?’
‘Um, yes. The weather looks okay though, doesn’t it?’
Tom narrowed his eyes looking out towards the water and Molly followed his gaze. Far into the distance she could see a few scattered clouds but they didn’t look threatening.
‘Some of that cloud might roll in later but we should be finished by then,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘Okay, I think we’re good to go. You all set?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’ She swallowed.
As they made their way to the first tee, Molly could feel the gentlest of breezes brush against her skin and she took a few seconds to appreciate her surroundings. She couldn’t imagine a more beautiful setting for a game of golf. The views of the sea were breath-taking and the fairway stretched out before them, dotted with heather and swathes of yellow gorse.
She inhaled deeply and tried to relax. It wasn’t every day she got the opportunity to play with a professional and so she may as well make the most of it. She just hoped he wouldn’t think she played too badly, although she knew from seeing him with Luke and Lily that he wouldn’t be judgemental, he did seem genuinely concerned that people enjoy the game rather than taking it too seriously.
Tom suggested Molly go first and as she prepared to take her first shot, she felt self-conscious. At least there was no one playing behind them, waiting and watching. She took a steadying breath, remembering all the things her father had taught her and did her best to forget Tom was a professional.
She also tried to forget he was standing so close to her and that he was a man who had the ability to send her heart racing.
Somehow, she managed to focus enough to take her shot, which she had to admit wasn’t a total disaster. Feeling inordinately relieved and pleased with herself she slid her gaze over to Tom. He nodded encouragingly and his smile sent a small rush of pleasure through her.
Molly soon realised any attempt to forget Tom was a professional simply wasn’t going to happen the moment he stepped up to take his shot. She stood transfixed, watching as he positioned his body, all his focus now on his shot.
Interlocking his fingers around the club and rotating his body on the backswing, he then followed through in one swift movement to strike the ball. Molly saw the muscles flexing in his arms and could hardly tear her eyes from the sheer power of his body. He moved with such confidence and graceful ease, she almost gasped at just how good he was. She knew enough about golf to know that power came from the body, not the arms – she’d been told that often enough by her father – but seeing Tom up close gave it new meaning. He may have been recovering from a broken leg but there was absolutely no doubt this was a man who was a strong and powerful athlete.
His shot flew down the fairway, landing near the flag on the first green and although he’d made it look easy, Molly suspected he wasn’t trying particularly hard. They slotted their clubs back into their trollies and started to make their way down the fairway.
Molly was touched that Tom seemed at pains to make sure she was relaxed and enjoying herself and as they walked and talked she finally felt herself begin to relax. Seeing him in what was clearly his natural environment, he was assured and confident but not arrogantly so. He appeared the most relaxed she’d seen him, as if any tension had evaporated.
After watching him take only a couple of shots to get to the next hole, while she took six, she shook her head in exasperation. ‘You make it look easy.’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘Some days it is. Golf is funny like that – one day you feel invincible, unbeatable. The next day it’s like you’ve forgotten everything you’ve ever learned.’
Molly listened with interest. She supposed a bad day at work meant something quite different for a professional golfer.
‘But you just have to keep going, despite the difficult days. And then it can all come good when you see that ball soar further than you thought possible, there’s something about that moment that golfers live for.’ He looked into the distance before turning to Molly with a small shrug. ‘Maybe it’s not something everyone can understand.’
Molly nodded her head slowly, thinking she could.
When they approached the fifth hole, Tom warned her it was the most challenging of the course. The fairway was extremely wide but then became narrow with a massive bunker guarding the green. As Molly positioned herself Tom came behind her and, with the gentlest of touches, repositioned her shoulders.
‘Try to open up your shoulders a little bit and that gives you more height to carry the bunker.’
Slightly distracted by his touch, Molly forced herself to listen to what he was saying and focus on her shot. Following his instructions, she struck the ball and, to her amazement, watched as it landed a few feet from the flag. Her eyes lit up with surprise.
‘Wow! Did you see that?’ she exclaimed, unable to contain her delight. She turned to find him watching her, his eyes soft.
‘That was fantastic.’ He smiled then, looking as pleased as she felt.
Molly gave her head a small shake. ‘I’ll never be able to do that again.’
‘You will. Just keep practising.’
Molly wondered if she would start playing again on a regular basis. There were plenty of courses and ranges in and around Glasgow but none with settings which came close to this. When they were halfway round, they stopped for a drink. Tom reached into his trolley to retrieve bottles of water and handed one to Molly.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ he asked her.
‘I really am,’ she replied honestly. Perhaps even a little too much, she thought.
‘There’s nothing quite like it, is there? Being out on the course?’ she heard Tom’s voice. ‘I think what I love the most is that everything else leaves my head for a few hours.’
Molly understood that. ‘It’s so peaceful. No noise, no traffic…’
‘…No phone calls or emails,’ he added with a smile.
As they finished their drinks and started to walk again, Tom explained a bit more about the course. Like all links courses it followed the natural contours of the land, providing the link between the land and the sea and weaved its way through a natural bird and wildlife haven.
‘There’s all sorts of wildlife here – the dunes and roughs are full of wildflowers, insects and butterflies. And when the tide is out, you can see seals basking in the sun on the sand banks. I’ve also seen stoats and weasels – they make their nests in the small gaps.’
‘Don’t all the spectators trampling ruin it though?’ asked Molly.
He shook his head. ‘All the courses along the coast act a really important buffer between land and sea and so they take a lot of care to manage and care for the environment.’ He smiled lopsidedly. ‘Sorry, I can get a bit geeky about all of this.’
Molly shook her head. ‘It’s really interesting. I’m impressed with your knowledge.’
‘I’ll be honest, I didn’t think too much about all of that stuff until recently. I mean, I’ve always loved being on the course. But in the last few weeks I’ve been reading up on it all. There’s not much else to do in the hotel room at night.’
Molly’s city existence didn’t give much rise for thoughts about fauna and flora and such matters but standing there now, with Tom she felt caught up in his enthusiasm. The image of Tom alone in his hotel room at night had also made her thinking go a bit awry.
They played the next few holes in companionable silence and by now were at the furthest away point from the club house. Tom stopped suddenly.
‘Look.’ He pointed out to the sea. A slight haze hung heavily on the sunlit horizon. ‘The haar is coming.’
Molly came to stand beside him. The sky had suddenly darkened and she felt a chill run through her. She had heard of the haar – the old word for a cold sea fog – but had never experienced it for herself. The breeze had strengthened and within minutes the mist had started
to swirl in from the sea, creating a blanket over everything and blotting out the sun. Molly couldn’t believe how quickly it had all happened. Goose bumps rose on her skin and she started to shiver, feeling cold but strangely exhilarated for some reason.
‘Here, take this,’ Tom told her, producing a jumper from his trolley. Molly pulled the soft, blue, woollen jumper over her head, catching the faint citrus, masculine scent of him as she did. She hugged it closer to her. It felt safe and warm and she thought she might never want to take it off.
Molly could feel a very fine wet spray touching her face but couldn’t actually see it. It was an odd sensation. Where she stood seemed clear – the mist always appeared to be over in the distance. But if she stepped over there, it was gone. It was surreal, like chasing a phantom.
‘They say you shouldn’t put your head down, but to face up to the haar and you can feel it kiss your cheek.’ Tom’s words filtered through the mist like a caress and Molly’s felt a shiver down her spine. She turned to face him, their gazes locked and the desire to move towards him was overwhelming.
She swallowed deeply and tried to focus on her footing. The visibility was so poor now she could hardly see and the ground beneath their feet felt bumpy and cragged. Molly tried to watch where she stepped but despite her best efforts she still managed to lose her footing, letting out a small yelp as she slipped.
Tom’s arms were there, catching her to stop her from falling. Instinctively she clung to him, feeling the tautness of his biceps beneath her fingers.
‘You all right?’
‘Um, yes. Thanks,’ she squeaked. She untangled herself from his arms but was quite happy when he didn’t let go of her hand. Her heart was racing and she felt protected by him, safe beside him. He was so close, she could feel the warmth of his body and Molly had the strangest sensation that suddenly they were the only two people in the world, like everyone else had simply vanished.
He tightened his grip of her hand with a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t worry, it will go as quickly as it came.’ At that particular moment, Molly wasn’t sure if she wanted it to go. She thought she might just want to stay here forever in this world of strange sea mists with Tom.
Chapter Twelve
Strawberries and Prosecco on a Sunday afternoon in an art gallery was a new experience for Molly and one she could quite easily get used to. She’d never attended the opening of an art exhibition before and it was turning out to be a bit of a revelation. For some reason she’d imagined hushed tones and subdued lighting but nothing could have been further from what she now saw looking around the Red Easel Gallery.
The gallery was a large open space, very light and airy with wooden floors and pale grey walls covered with Freya’s paintings. In the background jazz music played, not loud enough to be intrusive but enough to create a relaxed ambience. A black spiral staircase led to a mezzanine level where various art materials had been set out for children to use. There was also another, separate space displaying a range of ceramics, glass and jewellery from local artists.
‘You look really pretty, Aunt Molly,’ Lily said through a mouthful of strawberry.
‘Thank you, Lily, so do you.’ Molly smiled, looking down at her.
‘Yeah, I forgot you scrub up well, sis,’ added Stuart with a grin, putting his arm around her shoulder.
‘Ha ha, thanks very much. You don’t look so bad either,’ she admitted. In fact Molly thought they were all looking smart today. Although Freya had insisted the opening was a casual affair, Anna and Molly had used the outing as an excuse for some girly time and Lily had insisted on giving them facials and nail painting. Molly had sat back while Lily, with surprising capability, had blow-dried her hair so that it fell in soft waves well past her shoulders. Molly recalled all the times Colin had told her she should have it cut shorter. Looking in the mirror after Lily’s efforts, Molly ran her fingers over her tamed, shiny locks, glad she had kept it long.
She was also now sporting cherry-red nails thanks to Lily. Not a colour she would normally have chosen but she had to admit, it was working very well with the floral print midi-dress she was wearing.
Molly took a sip of her drink, glancing over at Anna and Stuart. Anna was looking pretty in a floaty chiffon top and more like her old self after the migraine attack. As far as Molly knew, she hadn’t made a decision about the job contract but it felt as if a cloud was hanging over her and Stuart in some way.
But for today, Molly was pleased to see them both looking relaxed. They’d received the news that their offer on the townhouse had been accepted which had prompted a little celebration at the guest house. Eva, Ben and Jamie had been invited over on Friday evening and they’d all shared a few drinks while the children played in the garden. Eva had also taken the opportunity to share her news. As Molly had suspected, she was expecting a baby. It had been a lovely, happy evening and Molly was thrilled for everyone.
Of course, it was also a sobering reminder to Molly that she needed to think about her future too. She couldn’t stay with Stuart and Anna for ever, no matter how lovely it was. She’d been living in a bubble here. A lovely warm bubble. But it wasn’t real life. Real life was back in Glasgow where she had to find a flat to rent and a job. But that was for another day, she decided. For now she was happy to enjoy the gallery.
She wandered around, stopping to study the different paintings. They were a mixture of oils and watercolours, each with their own title such as Rippling Seas or Wild Light. Some were dramatic and stormy, depicting darks skies and threatening clouds, while others were peaceful and idyllic of calm seas and white sands. Molly found herself immersed in the paintings, amazed how the use of light and colour captured the movement of the sea. She decided there and then she was going to buy one. She might not have a house to call her own but when she did she would hang the painting as a focal point and remember her time in St Andrews this summer.
Molly had seen Freya mingling and now she came over to join her.
‘Thanks so much for coming,’ she said with a wide smile.
‘It’s a lovely afternoon,’ Molly replied. ‘And all your paintings are beautiful. I can’t believe how they’re all seascapes but manage to capture something so different.’
‘As an artist I’m lucky to live where I do. The local coastlines provide me with endless inspiration and, of course, the Scottish weather changes by the minute,’ she commented wryly.
‘That’s true,’ Molly agreed. ‘And I love them all. In fact, I’m going to buy one.’ She pointed to a beautifully serene painting with soft blues and greens, tilting her head to study it again. ‘Yes, definitely this one.’
Freya looked delighted. ‘That’s great, I’m so glad you like them. We’ll get a reserved sticker on it for you.’
Molly waved a hand to indicate their surroundings. ‘To be honest I’ve never been to anything like this before and I didn’t know what to expect. I love the way it’s all been set out and it’s a great idea to have activities for children.’
‘I just think it’s really important to make it relaxed and informal – nothing stuffy or pretentious. The owners of the gallery feel the same way so we worked closely on how to set it up. They hold around six exhibitions a year which can be large mixed exhibitions or just solo shows like this one.’
‘Well, it certainly works. Please don’t let me keep you though – I’m sure you need to circulate.’
Freya nodded gratefully, her eyes scanning the room. ‘In fact, I’ve just spotted the journalist and photographer from the local paper. I better go.’
Molly watched Freya scurry off to speak to the people from the newspaper. One was carrying a camera with a large bag slung over his shoulder and the other held a notepad and pen. They had started to take a few photos and chat to various people including, Molly noticed, Greg Ritchie. She remembered the hotel owner from the other day with Judy. He was well and truly working the room. Constantly moving between people, a touch on the elbow here, a charming smile there.
&n
bsp; A glimpse of dark hair made her stop suddenly. She could see Tom. Her jaw almost dropped open when she saw how breathtakingly handsome he looked. She hadn’t thought it possible for him to look more attractive but in a white shirt open at the collar and dark trousers he had managed it.
She hadn’t expected him to be but now that he was here she felt inexplicably pleased. Molly had felt herself walking on air since her game of golf with Tom. She tried telling herself it had been the joy of playing a game of golf after all this time, but in her heart she knew it was because of Tom.
Unless she had totally misread things – and she had to face it, that was quite possible – she felt sure something had happened on the golf course, something had passed between them. But it was difficult to imagine what came next.
It would be madness to think of another relationship so soon. And yet the more she saw of Tom, the more she thought of what she had had with Colin. Sometimes the way Tom looked at her made her question whether Colin had ever looked at her like that. When she realised he hadn’t, it only added to her confusion.
Now that she had seen him, it was impossible not to keep sneaking glances in his direction. Holding a glass in one hand, he was listening politely to the person standing next to him, but Molly sensed he was uneasy. He slid a finger round the back of his collar, the gesture revealing his obvious discomfort.
There was no reason for her not to go over and speak to him. In fact, she felt drawn to him as if an invisible thread lay between them and she wondered if he felt it. She started to make her way over to him when Luke came charging over almost knocking her over. ‘Aunt Molly, come and see my drawing,’ he pleaded, grabbing her hand.
Recovering her footing, Molly smiled at her nephew. ‘Okay, okay. Lead the way.’ She looked up briefly to see Tom’s eyes on her. His mouth lifted into the smallest of smiles and for a brief second there was no one else in the room. Molly felt a moment of intimacy pass between them and heat flooded her body.
Giving herself small shake, Molly followed Luke and then spent several minutes admiring his picture of a gigantic dinosaur chasing people. She took time to look at the other children’s artwork – flowers, animals and houses all conscientiously and lovingly drawn or painted onto coloured paper.
Summer at West Sands Guest House Page 11