The Cosy Castle on the Loch: Spring (Book 1): A funny, sweet romcom set in the beautiful Highlands

by Alice Ross

  Flora had no idea how long she’d need. Nor what she should do with herself after the funeral. She only knew she wanted to be alone. So, rather than scuttling off home to crawl under the duvet and blub again, she wandered down to the loch, settled herself on a rock at the water’s edge, then, watching a couple of ducks waddling about, slid into her reverie.

  She had no idea how long she’d been there – minutes, hours, days – when an Australian voice sliced through her ruminations.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re thinking of throwing yourself in? Things aren’t that bad, surely.’

  Flora managed a brief smile of greeting as Noah squeezed onto the rock beside her.

  ‘Don’t you believe it,’ she said. ‘Joe’s completely blanking me. And everyone in the village hates me.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knee and rested his chin in his hands. ‘I doubt everyone hates you. One or two maybe. But not everyone.’

  She pulled an unimpressed face. ‘It’s not funny. This is my life we’re talking about.’

  ‘I know.’ He straightened and turned his head to her. ‘And only you can change it. Nobody hates you. They’re just a bit shocked, that’s all. They’ll get over it. And to speed up the process and give them something else to talk about, I could don a kilt and bare my bum in the pub, if you like.’

  Despite herself, a giggle escaped Flora. ‘That’s what you call kicking a girl when she’s down. Are you ever going to let that drop?’

  ‘Like your trousers?’

  ‘They were harem pants. Actually.’

  ‘Well, harem pants or not, actually, I most certainly am not going to let it drop. I’m going to replay the entire scene in slow motion every time I’m a bit down.’

  Flora shook her head in mock despair, before turning serious. ‘I can’t imagine you ever feeling down. You’re always so upbeat. So easy-going. I really envy you that. And your lifestyle. It must be fantastic to feel so free. So… unburdened.’

  ‘It is. But there’s nothing to stop you feeling the same. And you would. If you left Aberboyne. Which is exactly what you need right now. A change of scene. A new challenge.’

  She puffed out a breath. ‘I can’t leave.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘My mum. She needs me here.’

  ‘Not from what I’ve seen. She looks like a perfectly capable independent woman to me. And she was all geared up for you moving out to live with Joe, wasn’t she? I’m sure what your mum wants more than anything is for you to be happy. And if getting away from here for a while is what it takes, then I have no doubt she’d approve.’

  ‘And where would I go?’

  ‘Wherever you like. New York and South America with me. If you want to.’

  She screwed up her nose. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘One hundred and ten per cent seriously. I’m leaving for London tomorrow. I’ll be there for a week. Plenty of time for you to book your flights and meet me there.’

  As his turquoise eyes twinkled at her, Flora studied his face – his golden skin, his sharp cheekbones, his strong jaw. And his lips.

  Lips that were being lowered to hers.

  And were then on hers.

  It was in the daze of all dazes that Flora drifted home after the kiss with Noah. For all she’d thought about kissing him more times than she should have, given she’d been engaged to Joe at the time, the joining of their lips hadn’t been anything like she’d imagined. Not because he hadn’t been a good kisser. For all her limited experience in that area, even she knew a poor smooch from an excellent one - and Noah’s had definitely ranked in the latter category – but because it had felt… odd.

  ‘Think about what I’ve said. About the trip,’ he’d said, as Flora had risen to her feet immediately after the event, muttering something incoherent about going home.

  And she had thought about it. In the house she fired up her laptop and searched for images of South America, the colours, landscapes, culture and sunshine of Peru, Argentina and Brazil beaming out at her from the screen. It looked completely amazing. A world away from Aberboyne. But, just like the kiss with Noah, the emotions the pictures evoked in Flora, along with the prospect of being able to create her own pictures there soon – weren’t anything like she’d expected. Rather than fizzing excitement she felt… nothing.

  And she knew exactly why.

  Because neither the kiss nor the trip featured Joe.

  Reliable, funny, happy-go-lucky Joe. So content with his lot. So comfortable in his own skin. So sure about what he wanted from life, without the need to embark on a never-ending search for it, like lots of people.

  But Flora hadn’t realised what she wanted from her life until she’d thrown it away.

  ‘What’s happened?’ gasped Morag, arriving home later to find her daughter curled up on the sofa, weeping into a cushion.

  ‘Noah asked me to go travelling with him,’ Flora snorted – into the cushion

  ‘And you didn’t want to?’

  ‘No.’ She lifted her head. ‘I thought I would. But I didn’t. Oh, Mum, I miss Joe so much it hurts. All these years, I’ve taken him for granted. Not appreciated what I had until it’s not there anymore.’

  Morag plumped down on the sofa and pulled Flora to her. ‘No one can blame you for that. You’ve been together a long time.’

  ‘I know. But I’ve always wondered if it was really meant to be. If, like Dad’s motorbike and the car that hit him, we just accidentally collided.’

  ‘I’ve never thought that,’ soothed Morag. ‘I’ve always thought Joe was the silver lining to come out of the cloud of your dad’s accident. He might not be the most ambitious lad in the world, but he’s as solid as a rock. He thinks the world of you. And he’ll always be there for you, come what may. Just like your dad was for me. And that’s what real love is all about.’

  Flora gawped. ‘It is, isn’t it. Oh Mum, do you think I’m stupid for calling off the wedding?’

  Morag shook her head of brown curls. ‘Of course I don’t. I’m really proud of you doing what’s right for you and not for everybody else. That takes guts. But you know, just because you’re not ready to marry Joe, doesn’t mean the two of you have to break up. You could just forget about all that serious stuff for a while and enjoy being a young couple.’

  Flora’s brows shot up her forehead. ‘We could, couldn’t we?’

  ‘Absolutely. If that’s what you want.’

  Flora wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘It is. I don’t want to lose him. And I now know I don’t want anyone else.’

  ‘Well, in that case, what are you doing sitting here? Go and tell him that.’

  It was with shaking legs that Flora made the walk to Joe’s house, nausea returning as all manner of scenarios – few of them pleasant – crowded in her head: of his mother shutting the door on her again; of Joe telling her he no longer loved her; of her throwing up over somebody’s shiny shoes.

  But one scenario she hadn’t envisaged greeted her just as she was about to turn into his street.

  The scenario of him leaving his house.

  With a smiling Amy behind him.

  The sight of Joe and Amy ended Flora’s tears as effectively as if someone had turned a stopcock. Transforming her from a blubbering wreck to an empty vessel, devoid of emotion.

  ‘What on earth happened?’ gasped Morag, when she drifted into the house in a zombie-like state. ‘Did you see him?’

  Flora nodded. ‘He was with Amy.’

  ‘Amy?’

  The tears came again. ‘I’m too late, Mum. He’s already moved on.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I think you should go back to work,’ announced Morag the following morning.

  Toying with the bowl of cornflakes her mum had plonked down in front of her, Flora’s stomach lurched. ‘I can’t. I’ll have to see people. And Amanda must hate me after I’ve ruined the wedding trial.’

  ‘Of course Amanda doesn’t hate you. She’s already found an
other couple of guinea pigs. Mrs McLuckie’s niece. Apparently her wedding had been booked for years, but there’s been a fire at the venue and they’ve had to cancel. The bride’s thrilled she’s found somewhere else at such short notice. And Amanda’s thrilled she can help. And if you’re concerned about Joe, Mrs McLuckie told me that he’ll be working on another site for a while. And Amy, apparently, has been helping set up the new tearoom. So, there you go. You won’t have to see either of them.’

  Squidging the golden flakes against the side of the bowl, Flora blew out a long breath. Did she want to go back to Glenduff? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything. Other than the alternative - another day moping about the house - held very little appeal either.

  ‘OK,’ she puffed at length. ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘Morning.’

  Her back to the reception desk, Flora almost dropped the file she’d been flicking through, as she heard Mrs Mack’s woeful voice, directed – regrettably – at her.

  She’d given herself a strict talking-to before leaving the house. There was no point going to work a snivelling wreck. It would be grossly unprofessional. And would frighten the guests, who might write something embarrassing on TripAdvisor. Or not come back to Scotland - ever again.

  She’d therefore mustered every scrap of strength to present a brave face. And she would continue to do so – despite almost quaking at the sound of Mrs Mack.

  ‘Wedding off, I hear,’ droned the old woman – in the same tone most people would employ when informing someone they had to have a limb amputated.

  ‘That’s right,’ replied Flora levelly. ‘Worse things happen at sea though, don’t they?’

  ‘Aye, they do,’ the old woman agreed. ‘Wrecks and death. That’s what happens at sea.’

  Flora gulped. ‘Well, there you go then,’ she squeaked. ‘No one’s ever died as a result of a wedding been cancelled, have they?’

  ‘Not yet, they haven’t,’ sniffed Mrs Mack, before shuffling off.

  Thankfully for Flora, the rest of the day passed without further incident. Apart from seeing Noah.

  She’d gone up to his room, the door to which had been open. Walking along the corridor towards it, she couldn’t help but hear his conversation. He’d been on the phone to a girl called Minna, apparently already in Peru. As he’d made some flirty comment about Minna in a bikini, Flora had smiled. She hadn’t been looking forward to telling him she wouldn’t be accompanying him on his trip, but she shouldn’t have worried. Noah would be fine whether she was with him or not. In fact, she might have been mistaken, but something that looked like relief had briefly passed over his face when she’d informed him of her decision.

  ‘Wouldn’t want to cramp your style,’ she’d quipped.

  ‘What style?’ he’d chuckled. Then, kissing her on the cheek, ‘Be happy, Flora. And stick with Joe. He’s a great guy.’

  Tears springing to her eyes at that parting comment, Flora had managed a weak smile in response, before spinning around and returning to reception. Where, thankfully, she didn’t see Joe. Or Amy. Or even Amanda, who’d been in meetings all day.

  She gave herself a congratulatory pat on the back at getting through it. Not counting the slight wobble she’d experienced when flicking through a magazine at lunchtime and coming across a picture of a living room – its chimney breast embossed in wallpaper exactly the same as Joe’s bargain rolls.

  It being Thursday, Flora fully expected the aroma of tuna bake when she stepped onto the Hi. I’m Mat doormat that evening.

  But there wasn’t the faintest whiff of tuna. Or cooking of any kind. Only the sound of chatter coming from the kitchen. Chatter involving Morag, Kenneth Dunlop and Amanda – all seated around the table with a mug apiece, sharing a packet of chocolate digestives.

  ‘Hello, love,’ said Morag.

  ‘Hi,’ replied Flora, panic ricocheting through her. What on earth was going on?

  ‘I expect you’re wondering what on earth’s going on,’ piped up Amanda.

  ‘Just a bit,’ confirmed Flora. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘No. Quite the contrary. We have a proposition for you.’

  Flora’s brow creased. ‘A proposition? For me?’

  ‘That’s right. Now why don’t you sit down so we can tell you all about it.’

  ‘Rome!’ gasped Flora, when the proposition had been propositioned. ‘But I couldn’t possibly help manage Kenneth’s hotel in Rome.’

  ‘Of course you could,’ assured Amanda. ‘You’re more than capable. And it’s only for six months.’

  ‘But I don’t speak a word of Italian.’

  ‘I only speak a few,’ admitted Kenneth. ‘And not very well. You’ll be fine. Sofia, the Assistant Manager, will be in charge. She’s a native but speaks perfect English.’

  Flora gawped. ‘But what about my job here?’

  ‘All taken care of,’ said Amanda. ‘We’ve found a wonderful short-term replacement for you. And she’s sitting at this table.’

  Flora’s eyes widened. ‘Mum?’

  ‘Got it in one. Although, between us, I think her role could well become permanent. Which means I’d have to find something else for you on your return. Something like… wedding co-ordinator.’

  Flora’s eyes widened further. ‘After the shambles of my own wedding?’

  ‘All good experience,’ chuckled the laird. ‘But seriously, I am going to need someone. So, if you’d like it, the job is yours.’

  ‘I-I don’t know what to say. I’d love it.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Kenneth, grinning from ear-to-ear. ‘That’s settled. Now why don’t we all go out for dinner so we can talk it over some more.’

  ‘Mum, are you really sure about this?’ asked Flora, when the two of them were back home later, after a very nice meal that Kenneth had insisted on paying for.

  ‘More than sure,’ replied Morag. ‘A change of scene and a new challenge will do you the world of good. And this could be the start of a wonderful career for you. Especially with Amanda talking about all those courses she’d like you to attend when you’re back.’

  ‘I know. But what about you while I’m away? You’ll be all by yourself.’

  ‘I’m a big girl, Flora. I can cope. And I’m actually looking forward to starting afresh too. Your poor dad would be appalled at the way I’ve been behaving since he died. It’s time I manned up – isn’t that what they say? And where better to start than Glenduff. Although I was a bit nervous when I put the idea to Amanda.’

  Flora’s jaw dropped. ‘This was your idea?’

  ‘It was. The least I could do after holding you back all these years. And for letting you stress for so long about the wedding. Instead of getting carried away like the rest of the village, I should have seen how miserable you were and been there for you to talk to. But, like everyone else, I was just thinking about myself. I’m so proud of you for having the guts to do what you thought was right. And I know your dad would be too.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’ asked Flora, her gaze sliding to the plastic container on the shelf above the microwave.

  ‘I do. And speaking of your poor old dad, I think it’s time we laid him to rest properly, don’t you?’

  Flora gaped. ‘You don’t mean— Are you ready?’

  ‘I’m ready,’ assured Morag.

  The weather for the scattering of Dougie Hamilton’s ashes could not have been more perfect – another dazzlingly blue sky, and not a solitary breath of wind.

  Morag, once again impressing Flora with her strength, wore the blue dress her husband had always liked her in, and had chosen the little shingle beach on the shores of the loch for the deed. She’d also sheepishly asked Flora if she’d mind if Kenneth Dunlop came with them – to scatter the colonel’s ashes. To which Flora had replied that she’d like that very much. Kenneth seemed a lovely man. And one who, she’d noticed, made Morag smile whenever he was around.

  After a few solemn words from the trio, the ashes were emptied onto t
he gently lapping water, followed by three daffodils.

  ‘Dad would have really liked the colonel,’ said Flora, as they watched the remains bobbing about on the surface.

  ‘Let’s hope,’ said Morag, mustering a smile. ‘Because they’re lumped with each other now.’

  What Kenneth modestly referred to as his ‘little guest house’, turned out to be a fabulous five-bedroomed boutique hotel right in the centre of Rome. Having trawled through a load of pictures of it, Flora was excited. Morag, Amanda – and Noah – had been right. She did need a new challenge. And this one came with a purpose: the start of a whole new career in the hospitality business. Kenneth was to travel to Rome with her, show her the ropes for two weeks, then return to the UK to sort out his father’s estate and take a well-earned rest. At Glenduff – much to Morag’s unconcealed delight. Flora was over the moon at seeing her mum so happy again. And for all the wedding fiasco had been a disaster from start to finish, the silver lining to emerge from that particular cloud was Morag’s return to her old self. Flora had no idea if anything romantic was going on between her mother and Kenneth, but having witnessed a couple of shy looks they’d exchanged, she hoped there might be. If not now, then at some point in the future.

  But even though the prospect of six months managing a fabulous hotel in one of the world’s most glamorous cities had stirred Flora’s juices, there wasn’t the full-blown euphoria most people would demonstrate at such an exciting proposition.

  Because she couldn’t share it with Joe.

  And she didn’t think the gaping big hole that had replaced him, would be remotely interested.

  ‘Flora. You couldn’t take this box over to the new tearoom, could you?’ asked Amanda. ‘It’s Amy’s day off and I’m expecting a visitor any minute.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Flora.

  ‘Thanks.’ Amanda handed her the box. ‘Oh. And be careful with the door. Apparently the lock’s a bit temperamental.’