Sealed With a Kiss

by Rachael Lucas

  ‘Ye’re no on duty now, hen. You can relax,’ Bruno laughed.

  ‘I can’t. I have so many layers on my legs don’t bend,’ explained Kate, flushing as they all exploded with laughter.

  ‘It’s not even that cold tonight,’ Roderick placed his glass on the tray and stood up, holding out his hand. ‘Up you come, it’s nearly seven – time for Jean’s surprise.’

  In the field behind the hotel people had gathered in a semicircle, keeping their distance from the unlit bonfire. Kate and Roderick joined Jean and her husband Hector.

  Murdo was weaving up the path with a loudhailer in his hand.

  ‘He’s lethal with that thing,’ Jean laughed. ‘I thought Sandra hid it after the Highland Games last year?’

  ‘He found it in the wardrobe in the spare room,’ explained Roderick.

  ‘Herself will not be happy about that, I’m thinking.’

  ‘Take a look.’ Roderick pointed at Sandra, who was storming across the field after Murdo, a thunderous expression on her face. ‘I think Murdo is about to be put back in his box, don’t you?’

  The loudhailer squawked.

  ‘LADIES – hang on, that’s a bitty loud . . . ’ Murdo fiddled with a button. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. I’m about to have this loudhailer snatched off me by my good lady wife, who thinks I’m going to embarrass her again.’

  The islanders around the bonfire erupted in laughter.

  ‘So, without further ado, let’s have a countdown to the Auchenmor fireworks. Get OFF, Sandra.’ He batted at his wife ineffectually as she grappled with him, seizing the loudhailer and beetling away.

  ‘What exactly happened at the Games?’ As the rest of the islanders were counting down from ten, Kate turned to Roderick, intrigued.

  ‘Murdo had one too many to drink. And Sandra, as usual, was complaining,’ Roderick leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear, to make himself heard over the yelling crowd. She could hear the smile in his voice. ‘He decided he’d had enough and tried to auction her off to the highest bidder.’

  Kate’s laughter was drowned out by the first fireworks. The crowd had pressed forward with the excitement. Sensing Roderick’s body just inches away, she stood, frozen to the spot. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her hair. Despite the crowds, the moment seemed strangely intimate.

  When the last rocket had shot into the air, Roderick squeezed past her and darted out of sight. He re-emerged holding the loudhailer and flicking it on.

  ‘I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to someone very dear to me,’ he began.

  Standing beside Roderick with a lemon-sucking expression, Sandra shot Kate a narrow-eyed glance of dislike. It was picked up by Jean, who gave Kate’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Don’t you worry yourself about her.’

  Kate laughed in surprise.

  ‘She’s got tickets on herself, that one,’ Jean sniffed disapprovingly.

  ‘She doesn’t like a lot of fuss,’ continued Roderick, his voice echoing across the field. ‘So this is for you, Jean.’

  Out of the shadows came the sound of bagpipes. The piper strolled forward, clad in a kilt and a thick woollen sweater. The low bass drone filled the night air. Kate turned to a speechless Jean, who was flapping her hands in front of her eyes, trying in vain to stem the tears.

  ‘Go on then,’ said Kate, pushing Jean gently forward. ‘Enjoy your moment.’

  The piper’s tune changed. Kate realized with delight that the Highland melody had been replaced by ‘Happy Birthday’. Roderick turned to Murdo, who had reappeared bearing a birthday cake. The candles flickered, lighting up Roderick’s face. He looked across at Kate, caught her eye and smiled. He put the loudhailer to his mouth and turned back to the crowd.

  ‘Three cheers,’ he roused the islanders, who yelled in response. ‘And now, Jean, if you’ll do the honours?’

  He passed her a wooden stake, topped with a petrol-soaked rag. Murdo struck a match. The crowd roared again as he leapt back, swearing, at the sudden whoosh.

  Jean circled the bonfire, methodically lighting her way around it, before throwing the lit torch onto the effigy of Guy Fawkes. She beamed at Roderick, who gave her a wink and smiled.

  ‘Get yourself inside and I’ll buy you and Hector a drink,’ he instructed her.

  Kate turned, looking around for Susan now that the crowd had thinned. Parents were carrying tired, protesting children away from the field, looking forward to tucking them up, sitting down in front of the television and having some time to themselves.

  ‘I can’t see Susan,’ she stood on tiptoe, peering through the darkness. ‘She said to wait for her outside.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Roderick, pointing into the darkness. ‘She asked me to mention that her dad was going back with Jamie, so the two of them have a night off. She’s away with the fairies.’

  Kate looked at him, puzzled.

  ‘Come a bit closer and I’ll show you,’ he explained. Torch in hand, he led her away from the bonfire and into the darkness.

  As Kate drew closer to the edge of the field, she could see the outline of a twisted hawthorn tree, festooned with torn pieces of rag. She turned to Roderick.

  ‘What on earth is that?’

  ‘It’s the clootie well. I won’t take you any closer at the moment, in case we disturb the young lovers.’

  ‘So why is the tree covered in bits of cloth?’

  ‘Well, tradition says that if you tie a piece of the cloth to the tree and make a wish, the fairies will grant it before the cloth wears out,’ Roderick said. ‘People used to do it when their family members were ill, but nowadays it’s more likely to be teenagers making wishes about the person they fancy. And of course it’s also a place where they can hide and nobody knows what they’re up to.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Kate, teasing. ‘That’s interesting. Maybe I’ll be coming back here to make a wish myself one day.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Roderick laughed at her.

  ‘Morag says this island is magical.’ Kate was thoughtful. ‘It’s certainly cast a spell over me. I love it here.’

  Roderick stared at her for a long moment, a strange expression on his face. Kate could feel a blush rising on her own face, hidden by the moonlight.

  ‘Bugger off, you two,’ came a voice from the darkness. ‘You’re as bad as the children. Can we not have a snog in peace?’

  ‘You’ll be wanting to change?’ Somehow Sandra managed to beam at Roderick and glare at Kate simultaneously. ‘If you follow me upstairs, I’ll show you where to go.’

  I bet you’d love to, thought Kate. Roderick ducked back through the wall into the men-only hiding space, leaving her to climb the stairs behind Sandra, stiff-legged in her thick layers of clothing.

  ‘You can leave your things in here, and I’m assuming,’ Sandra paused to cast a disdainful glance up and down Kate, taking in her mismatched, lumpy appearance, ‘you brought something else to wear?’

  ‘I’ve got my things here, yes.’ Refusing to rise to the bait, Kate patted her bag, reassuring herself that she definitely had remembered the change of clothes.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. The bathroom is just there.’

  Slipping off her boots, Kate surveyed the hotel room. The bed was covered in heaps of discarded clothes, the floor strewn with boots and wellingtons. It looked as if the whole island had thrown off their sensible winter layers. It was lucky she and Roderick had spent the time after the fireworks ended walking over the field to the clootie well, or she’d have been changing amongst the chaos of a crowd of excited islanders.

  Locking herself in the bathroom, she pulled out the contents of her shoulder bag. Removing the long johns from under her black jeans, she peeled off layers of vest, jumper and fleece, stuffing them in haphazardly. She slipped on her top, a shimmering grey cowl-necked vest. It was an old favourite, and she thanked the gods of clothing that it had been the first thing she’d grabbed when she ran down to the cottage earlier. Slipping on her black
heels, which had managed to survive puppy-attack, she surveyed her outfit. A bit plain, perhaps, but definitely an improvement on the overstuffed-pillow look. She clipped on her favourite silver bracelet, ran her fingers through her hair, sprayed on a ton of deodorant, reapplied some lip gloss, eyeliner and mascara, then grimaced at herself in the mirror. Without the gregarious Susan to keep her company and make her laugh, she wasn’t really looking forward to the party.

  ‘Wow!’ Roderick was standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching as she made her way down. He gave a low whistle. ‘I’m now officially off-duty. Shall we have that drink we were offered earlier?’

  Kate was relieved, and touched. Everyone on the island, with the notable exception of Sandra, had been welcoming and kind, but walking alone into a noisy, thronging party full of drunken islanders had been a terrifying prospect.

  ‘Sit yourself down here.’ Roderick pulled out a chair for Kate. ‘I’ll go and get those drinks for Jean and Hector.’

  The room was heaving with people, all of them far more dressed up than Kate. She twiddled her hair, checking her phone out of habit. No messages. Of course there wouldn’t be – the hotel, being Victorian, had thick walls that were impervious to mobile signals, so she couldn’t even text Emma for moral support. Sitting on the chair alone, she felt conspicuously lacking in friends, and suddenly aware of how far from home she was. She searched the room for a familiar face. The sound of excited Scottish voices, blended with the music from the disco in the corner, was deafening. Having cast off their reserved nature along with their layers of clothing, the islanders seemed determined to have a good time.

  She jumped as cold lips kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘Morag!’

  ‘You look very beautiful, young lady,’ said Morag gravely, turning to the bearded man on her left. ‘Doesn’t she, Ted?’

  ‘As always.’ Ted’s eyes twinkled with pleasure.

  As soon as they’d met, the gentle Ted had recognized a kindred spirit. Delighted to be sharing the contents of his huge bookshelves with Kate, he’d spent hours discussing the book world. In his previous life he’d worked at a big London publishing house and had known, and worked with, Kate’s dad. Because of this, he felt a little bit like home to Kate. He’d shared stories of mutual friends, giving her a feeling of rootedness and security that she hadn’t realized she missed. He’d reminded her so much of her dad, with his warm nature, amused eyes watching the world quietly.

  ‘That silver grey matches the colour of your eyes,’ said Morag, reaching forward and feeling the soft metallic material between her fingers. ‘Very pretty. You’ll be the catch of the night.’

  Kate smiled, but said nothing. She had no desire to be the catch of this, or any other, night. She was enjoying the peace of her uncomplicated life, and her nights in bed reading until 2 a.m., sleeping star-shaped in the bed. Even Emma’s text the other day hadn’t shaken her:

  Gossip update – Ian is going out with woman from his office. Met him in the Feathers. He’s a fast mover.

  She’d known Ian wouldn’t be alone for long, and had wondered what she would feel when he moved on. The answer was nothing, as she had been relieved to discover. With the music pounding in the little hotel bar, that life felt very far away.

  ‘Kate?’ Morag broke through her thoughts, leaning in to be heard over the pounding music of the disco. ‘You’re away in a dream – oh, here’s Roddy.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer, so I got a couple of everything.’ Placing a clinking tray of drinks on the table, he leaned down, kissing Morag on the cheek. ‘Hello, you. You can all take your pick.’

  He sat down opposite them, long legs folding underneath the tiny bar table. He handed a whisky to Ted, taking one for himself and nodding a silent toast.

  Kate reached forward, helping herself to a glass of whisky. The first one, before the fireworks, had filled her with a warm glow. Whisky was definitely growing on her. Ted smiled at her approvingly. ‘I do like a woman who enjoys a good single malt. And a beautiful one, at that.’ Ted smiled at Roddy, half-raising a sly eyebrow. ‘Does she not look lovely tonight?’

  Ted and Morag were looking between her and Roderick with expectation.

  ‘She scrubs up pretty well, considering I’m used to seeing her in jeans and a fleece.’ Roderick looked a little awkward, avoiding Kate’s eye. Morag shot Ted a half-smile, raising an eyebrow.

  The music ended, and the DJ beckoned Roderick over.

  ‘He’s a good boy, that one.’ Ted nodded towards the little makeshift podium where Roderick was now deep in conversation with the guy behind the speakers.

  ‘They both are. Finn’s a handful, mind you. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, Kate.’

  Kate followed Ted’s gaze, flushing slightly when Roderick and the DJ both looked up at the same time, looking directly at her. The DJ, who had the same cheeky expression as a young Ewan McGregor, raised one eyebrow and said something to Roderick, who recoiled slightly, shaking his head as his friend nodded, and laughing.

  ‘Right then, you lot,’ boomed the DJ’s voice through the loudspeaker. ‘So we’ve got a new girl here tonight.’

  Roderick looked over at her with an apologetic expression. What on earth was he up to?

  ‘Time to show Kate from England what we can do.’ The voice began again. ‘Anyone up for a wee bit of a whirl round the dance floor? One for the oldies now, but you can join in if you went to Kilmannan Academy and remember the steps from Scottish country-dance lessons with Mrs Duff . . .’

  And with that, the bagpipe music had started and the room, full of Scottish people on their third drink, inhibitions lowered, was a whirl of laughter. Ted and Morag were up, marching their way round the dance floor, and Kate was alone again, but this time with curious eyes upon her as she sat, pretending to look at her phone, at the table.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Kate.’ Appearing through the melee, Roderick sat down beside her. ‘It’s Finn – he’s another one who’s unstoppable with a microphone in his hand.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ It wasn’t, and she really wanted to disappear.

  ‘He was trying to make you feel at home. He’s a bit like a Labrador puppy, he tends to bounce over everyone.’ Roderick put a reassuring hand on her knee, then pulled it away almost instantly as if she was red-hot. ‘Sorry.’ He shifted sideways in his chair, taking a gulp of his drink.

  ‘It’s okay – I just hadn’t expected to have the entire room sizing me up as the new girl. Some of those women make Sandra look downright friendly.’

  ‘Ah, yes. I know islanders have a reputation for being warm and open, and all that – but there’s a few of them who’ve got a bit of an axe to grind with me.’

  ‘Really?’ She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. He might be the laird of the island, and have long sweeping eyelashes, and Slavic cheekbones above dark stubble, and – hang on, that was the whisky talking – he might be all those things, but he didn’t strike her as being the island Lothario.

  ‘It’s a long story. Not for tonight.’ He closed down the conversation with a distinct edge to his voice, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He glanced involuntarily towards the bar and the portrait of Sandra’s identikit daughter.

  At a loss for something to do, Kate took an eye-wateringly huge swig of her whisky. The resultant coughing fit, complete with nostrils flaring and a feeling that her head was going to fall off, was enough to take her mind off the conversation.

  ‘Anyway,’ Roderick handed her a glass of water, looking both amused and concerned, ‘I came over to ask if you’d like to join me for a dance. Morag and Ted won’t get off our backs until we do.’

  Accidentally inhaling the second glass of whisky had worked wonders – and she’d already made herself look like an idiot. She was practically blowing steam out of her nostrils. ‘Oh, go on then. Why not?’

  ‘If you want a lift home, Ted’s got the van. He’s taking everyone from the estate. It’ll be a bit of a squash, mind,
and highly illegal.’

  Standing at the sink in the hotel toilets, Kate looked up as Morag’s head appeared round the door. It was the end of a long night, her head was spinning and while she felt half-envious of the gang that she’d heard planning to head into Kilmannan for an impromptu house-party, she was secretly looking forward to a huge glass of water and bed.

  ‘That would be lovely. Just give me two minutes.’

  Kate splashed her scarlet face once more with cold water. She was baking hot, after dancing for what felt like hours. It had been surprising to see Roderick helpless with laughter, as Morag, Ted and eventually Jean fruitlessly attempted to teach her an Eightsome Reel. It was a dance designed to confuse anyone who didn’t have Scottish blood in their veins.

  Passing a gang of revellers who were still going strong, she climbed up the staircase to find her things. The room was deserted now, and she grabbed her bag from the back of the wardrobe where she’d stashed it, out of sight. Almost all of the coats, fleeces and boots had gone, with a slightly unsteady-on-the-feet stream of people walking down the road into the town of Kilmannan. She walked down the stairs, looking through the window of the lounge, spotting Bruno, Murdo and Ted deep in conversation by the bar, Murdo polishing glasses, never off-duty.

  She heard a metallic slither and a chink, and looked down. Her silver bracelet had fallen off. Not surprising, given the amount of whirling about I’ve done tonight, she thought, bending down to pick it up from the tartan carpet in the hotel lobby. Straightening up, she didn’t notice Roderick open the hidden door in front of her.

  ‘Oof!’ She walked right into him and looked up, ready to make a joke. He took her wrist, pulling her gently into the tiny, firelit room. Pushing the door shut, he turned, facing her. He took in a breath, not saying a word for a long moment. He was so close that she could feel the heat of his body. He lifted his hand and traced her jawbone with his finger. Kate’s heart was pounding. He tipped up her chin, gently. He was looking directly into her eyes and her legs were going to give way. She bit her lower lip, trying to steady herself.