“No,” I manage to say, though I know I sound unconvincing.
“You’re not a very good actress, Amber,” he says, arms folded. “Please don’t lie to me.”
“You’re annoyed,” I mumble, avoiding looking at him.
“Of course I’m bloody annoyed. We’ve been together all these months and yet you don’t trust me. That’s great to know, Amber. Really great to know. Thanks very much.”
“Charlie! We need to get going!” Martha’s voice sings through the cottage.
I feel awkward, embarrassed at my jealousy and trust issues and annoyed at the way he’s annoyed with me. Leaning down he briefly kisses my cheek. “It’s just work, Amber. Nothing more. I’ll call you later, let you know the situation about whether or not we can get a flight back tonight.”
And with that he leaves. I stay where I am, listening to Charlie and Martha chatting about the case, doors closing, the car starting up. Then silence.
I feel so alone. The sense of isolation immediately closing in on me.
Slumping onto the bed I cuddle up to a pillow and immediately pick up the scent of Charlie’s aftershave and shower gel on the material from when we shared my bed yesterday afternoon. I should never have said anything should I? Charlie hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him around other women. And yet…
Enough of this. Getting to my feet I fling the pillow back on the bed and head for the kitchen to make another cup of coffee and decide on my plan of action for the day. There’s still a lot to be done in the case, people to interview, things to research. Then I spot it. Lying on the kitchen table is a notepad and on it, in Martha’s distinctive swirly handwriting, is a detailed To Do list. She’s written my name at the top and then a little note saying she thought I might find it helpful if she provided me with a bit of guidance in terms of the various things she wanted me to sort today.
Great. Just great.
By five in the afternoon it is growing increasingly gloomy and blustery as the weather closes in. I gratefully shut the door of the cottage behind me, ready for a relaxing and warming soak in the bath. I’m waiting for the trickle of water from the tap to fill the bath enough for me to get in when my phone rings. Retrieving it from the kitchen table I see the caller is Charlie. I give myself a quick talking to – I will not be off with him or make catty comments about Martha. I will be sensible. I will be calm.
“Hey,” I say. “Useful day in Edinburgh?”
“Great, really good,” he replies. “I’ll fill you in on all the details about the university and the bank when we get back but I can tell you now that the mystery woman isn’t Garrison’s sister. We met with her. She says she never visited the island.”
“So we still need to try and find out who this woman he spent so much time with is then.”
“Yep.” His voice softens. “How was your day? How many items on Martha’s list did you get done?”
I can hear the warmth and humour in his voice as he adds, “Or did you just rip the list into tiny pieces and do your own thing instead?”
“Tempting,” I admit with a smile. “But I’m on best support officer behaviour remember? I got everything on Martha’s list done I’ll have you know!”
Charlie laughs and I feel myself growing all warm inside. “So you’ve got some stuff to fill us in on too then eh?”
“Yep. Where are you now? If you’ve got all your errands sorted already, your flight isn’t until nine is it? You’ve got hours to wait.”
There’s a beat of silence and I wish I’d never asked him the question.
“Just grabbing something to eat,” he says in a vague voice.
They’re in some cosy restaurant together, sharing a meal, maybe a glass or two of wine. Whilst I’m here. In the middle of bloody nowhere. All alone.
The unmistakable sound of giggling in the background makes me grip the phone more tightly and count to ten. One. Two. Three. I Will Not. Four. Five. Make a scene.
“At the airport?” I ask, putting a jovial tone into my voice.
“Er, no. This Italian restaurant. Martha knows Edinburgh pretty well and she says this place has the best stone baked pizza in the world.”
“You’re in the city centre?”
“Yeah. The restaurant is right in the tourist area. Views of the castle and everything.”
Perfect. They’re about to enjoy a meal together in a romantic authentic Italian eatery with a romantic view of the castle.
“Sorry, Amber I’ve got to go. Our table is ready. I’ll see you later. If the flight is still all OK then we’ll be back about ten tonight.”
“Fine,” I say, still fighting to keep my happy voice on.
“Wait up for me?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I reply. “I’m not making any promises. If I feel tired by then I’ll just head off to bed and see you both in the morning.”
I hear scuffling and realise he’s turning his back, shielding his conversation from prying ears. “If you’re in bed then maybe I’ll come through and give you a goodnight kiss,” he says, with more than a hint of flirtatiousness in his voice.
Looks as though I’m forgiven for the lack of trust stuff this morning then.
“Must remember to lock my bedroom door then,” I reply.
Charlie laughs. “Waste of time, Amber. You know I can pick locks.”
By eight o’clock I’m bored. The wind is whistling outside and rain is hammering against the doors and windows. There’s nothing on TV to distract me and I’m struggling with the book I’m trying to get into on my e-reader. Perhaps I’ll just give up on this one and start a different book, see if that can hold my attention. My phone rings and I’m amazed I still have signal despite the storm. I check caller ID.
It’s Charlie.
“Are you OK?” he asks as soon as I answer the call. “How’s the storm? You haven’t lost power have you?”
“Yes, I’m OK. The storm is pretty bad but so far we still have power though it has flickered a few times.” My stomach clenches. I know what he’s about to tell me.
“The flight is cancelled tonight,” he says. “I hate to leave you there on your own but I’ve no choice. The next flight back is about five tomorrow morning. The storm should have gone through by then so we’ll definitely be on that one. I’ve already spoken to the airline guys and made sure there are seats on that plane and our reservations are switched.”
“I expected you wouldn’t get back tonight,” I say, feeling a flicker of agitation. “Spending the night sleeping on the seats at the airport then eh?”
“No.” He sounds reluctant to fill me on the details. “We got rooms at a hotel not far from the airport. The usual cheapo chain type place but it’ll be fine for a few hours. We’ll need to be back at the airport early tomorrow morning anyway to check in for the five o’clock flight.”
Rooms at a hotel.
I cover the phone with one hand whilst I take a deep breath. I don’t want another disagreement. Charlie’s right. I need to trust him. Need to trust in our relationship. But Martha is so smart and sexy and so obviously wants Charlie… No. Don’t think like that.
“Amber? You still there?”
I nod, which is ridiculous because of course he can’t see me. “Yes,” I say. “Still here.”
“Be careful tonight OK? Stay indoors and make sure you’ve got candles and a torch handy.”
“I’ll be fine,” I reassure him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It’s almost as if the two actions are connected. As I switch off my mobile the lights and power go off in the cottage and I’m plunged into darkness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brilliant. I feel around on the sofa for the torch I purposefully kept close by. Switching it on I fetch the box of matches from the kitchen counter and light a few candles. The sound of the wind has now reached eerie proportions and the rain is torrential.
Checking my phone I’m amazed to see that the signal is still holding. Flicking through my contacts on the mobile I find D
ebs’ name and hit the call button. I feel alone and a little freaked out and Debs is great at calming me down. Debs is one of my best friends and we haven’t spoken for a day or so. She answers with a squeal on the first ring.
“Amber! How’s life as a spy? Things are boring as whatever here and I need to live vicariously! Come on, spill all right this minute!”
I laugh. Debs is also great at lifting my mood. “Right now things are far from boring but not for any reasons connected to the case.”
“Oh? Now you’ve got me curious.” There’s a pause before she adds, “What’s wrong?”
“Where to start? The CCIA has sent another agent to work on the case with Charlie and me. She’s one of their best apparently. Which suggests to me that they don’t think I’m up to the job.”
“Be reasonable, Amber. This is your first official case. It’s no reflection on you that they sent another experienced agent to help out with the investigation.”
“Maybe,” I concede grudgingly.
“It gets worse though,” I continue. “This other agent is a blonde goddess who has made it pretty obvious she’s making a play for Charlie. She flirts with him right in front of me. The other day she paraded down the corridor in the tiniest bath towel for his benefit. There’s no way I can compete with a woman like that.”
“Mmm, granted she does sound a bit of a cow if she’s making a play for him like that. Look, honey, just don’t think of it as competing. Has Charlie shown any interest in her?”
“Not really. I did catch him looking when she was doing her tiny bath towel thing.”
“Well of course he looked, he is a guy,” she says and I can imagine her rolling her eyes at the comment.
“So where is she now if you can tell me all of this gossip?”
“She’s in Edinburgh. With Charlie.”
“Woah! Back up a minute. What the freak is she doing in Edinburgh with Charlie?”
“Part of the case investigation,” I explain. “There were a few leads which needed following up there and when she booked the flight there were only two seats so…”
“Did you check there actually were only two seats?” Debs challenges.
“Yes,” I say, feeling a little ashamed. “I did. She was telling the truth.”
“So you’re on the island alone then?”
“Yep and there’s a really bad storm going on, the power has just gone off and because of the weather their flight back tonight got cancelled so they have to stay over in Edinburgh and get the first flight back tomorrow morning.”
“Right. Well, look, Charlie’s a decent guy. It’ll all be fine I’m sure.”
“I think he’s mad with me,” I say as I find a loose thread on a cushion and pick at it in an irritated fashion.
Debs sighs. “What did you say to him? Did you tell him you don’t trust him?”
“Not as such.”
“Amber, sweets, I know you’ve had some crap men in your life and they’ve messed you around but Charlie, well, I honestly think he’s different. You need to learn to trust him.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” I mutter.
“I know, easier said than done but I really think you ought to try. You’ve changed your whole life because of Charlie. He’s the reason you’re in the CCIA. You’re an item. You guys are good together.”
“The agency booked a cottage for us all and it’s got three bedrooms so with Martha around I thought it would be for the best if…”
Debs disapproving tone cuts me off mid-sentence. “You didn’t! Do not tell me you moved into a room on your own!”
“I thought it would be more professional in the circumstances,” I say trying to explain my actions.
“Screw professional!” she counters. “What about your relationship? How did Charlie take you moving out?”
“At first I think he thought I was kidding but then he realised I wasn’t and he might have been a tiny bit miffed but he totally understood why so things are OK.”
Debs sighs. “I do like Charlie. He’s a keeper. Remember that, OK?”
“Maybe I overreacted a little,” I mutter.
“You think?” she laughs.
Ten minutes later our catch-up conversation is abruptly brought to an end when I finally lose signal on the mobile. The wind and rain is even worse now.
I go and fetch a throw from Charlie’s bed and wrap it around me as I snuggle into the depths of the sofa and try to concentrate on starting another book on my e-reader. Maybe it’s not the best idea in the world that this book is a suspense-ridden thriller. Right now I could do with a gentle rom-com to read instead. I flick through the contents of the e-reader, trying to find something less dramatic to tackle. The gate outside keeps rattling against its frame but there’s no way I’m going out there in the pitch black to try and secure it.
Then the sound of someone banging on the cottage door makes me jump a foot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Hello!” A male voice calls out. “Are you OK in there? My name’s Harry. I’m your neighbour. Do you need any help?”
I scramble to my feet and head for the door. In any other circumstances I would make the safe decision and ignore strange men hammering on my front door but on an island like Farra I don’t think a neighbour is likely to be dangerous. As I open the door I belatedly remember that on Farra somebody killed a man and we still haven’t found out who or why. Maybe I shouldn’t have opened the door after all.
Much to my relief the man standing on my doorstep is accompanied by a woman. They’re both huddled in heavy-duty waterproofs, hoods over the top of woolly hats.
“Hi, I’m Theresa,” the woman says, fighting to stay upright in the howling wind. “We have our own generator so have still got power. Why don’t you all come over to our place for tonight? Even if the power comes back on, which to be honest is unlikely within the next twelve hours out here, then it’s likely it could go again at any time in the night.”
I usher the two of them inside where we can have a conversation without having to shout above the sounds of the storm.
Theresa pulls off her hood and hat and looks around. “Are you alone?” She frowns. “I thought there were three of you staying here as part of the murder investigation.”
“There are three of us but my colleagues flew to the mainland this morning as part of the case so it’s just me here for now.”
“When are they due back?” the man asks. “You know the airport has been closed right?”
“Yes, I know. They just rang to say they won’t be back until the morning.”
“That’s decided then,” Theresa says. “You’ll come back and stay at our place tonight.”
I shake my head. “Thanks but really there’s no need.”
“Storms on these islands can cause serious structural damage and be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. I insist you stay with us. It’ll be safer. Got a waterproof?” she asks.
“Yes but…”
The man smiles. “No point in arguing with her, believe me. Complete waste of time. Took me years to learn that though,” he says, earning himself a poke in the ribs from his female companion.
Within minutes I’m throwing a few belongings into my bag and pulling on a hat and coat. Outside a 4x4 is parked up, lights still on and I clamber into the back seat. Harry and Theresa might have called themselves neighbours but I know there are no other houses visible from our rental cottage. It’s a five minutes or more drive back down the single track lane before we arrive at their home.
Inside a fire is blazing in a log burner and the house is welcoming and warm.
“Take a seat,” Harry says, gesturing towards the sofa. “Want a drink? Something to eat?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.”
“Coming right up,” Theresa chirps from the kitchen.
I settle on the sofa and think how nice it is of them to go to all the trouble of venturing out in the storm to check I’m OK and then invite me back to their home.
Some of the people on Farra are so welcoming. I recall mine and Charlie’s visit to the Big House and Rory’s invitation to join the dance this weekend. I still need to arrange with Rhona about visiting again to choose a dress like she’d mentioned. Charlie also needs to go and try on kilts.
“Do you know Rory up at the main house?” I ask in an attempt to make conversation.
“I work for him,” Harry says. “I’m the estate’s handyman and ghillie and gamekeeper. Everyone multitasks on an island like this. We all have several jobs to try and make a half decent living.”
“Rory is lovely,” Theresa says, handing me my coffee and then curling into an armchair by the fire with her own mug. “If you’ve met him then you must have received an invitation to the dance this weekend right?”
I nod and sip at my drink.
“It’s the highlight of the social calendar,” she continues. “Great fun. Have you been to a ceilidh before?”
“Never. Rory’s promised to teach me some Scottish country dancing on the night.”
“Make sure it’s before he gets drunk then,” Harry laughs.
“So which jobs do you do then, Theresa? Do you work on the estate for Rory too?”
“No. I work for the local estate agency and solicitors part of the time and do a few shifts in the pub here and there as well. I’m also chair of the local environmental group. Storms like this show what amazing natural resources we have here. We could harness wave and wind power easily.”
I frown. “But you don’t?”
“Some of the properties and businesses on Farra have their own wind turbine like we do which is hooked up to a generator. Makes complete sense to do so. It’s only small scale stuff though. We’re trying to access government funding for grants to set up a community wind farm.”
Harry slumps back in a chair, clearly he’s heard this conversation one too many times. “Theresa is a big campaigner for community eco projects. That way the islands get to decide on the positioning of the wind or wave power farms as well as have control of any profits the schemes makes.”
“Profits?” I say. “You mean the wind farm would generate enough power for the island and then sell excess power back to the national grid?”
Amber Reed Mysteries Volume One: Romantic Comedy Mystery Series Box Set (Amber Reed Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency Mystery Box Set Book 1) Page 37