Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered

‘It’s all under control,’ she said with a wry smile.

‘In that case, I’ll have a latte please.’ I was going to make the most of being a customer while I still could.

She punched me gently on the arm.

‘Cheeky.’ But she got up and began making me a coffee anyway.

I took my drink and a glossy magazine from the rack over to a table, where I sat, ignoring the celebs in my mag and gazing out of the window instead. As I watched a small boat jump across the surface of the loch, the door to the café was flung open and a gust of cold wind rippled the pages of my magazine.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_1d278ea5-c191-50d7-936d-e097051eef4f)

‘Esme! It’s true! You are back!’

I looked up. So did Eva. Chloé stood in the doorway, her long red hair lifting in the wind and a frown on her face. I was overjoyed to see her. She’d been my best friend all the way through school. She ignored the other children when they muttered about my odd family and I stuck by her when she was teased for being so tall and gawky. Now she was tall, lean and beautiful with striking auburn hair and creamy white skin – and my family was still odd.

I jumped up to hug her – and close the door behind her because I was freezing.

‘I heard you were back,’ Chloé said, pulling up a chair. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

I grinned at her. The infamous Loch Claddach gossips had clearly been doing a good job.

‘I’ve not even been here a day,’ I laughed. ‘How did you know I’d arrived?’

Chloé rolled her eyes.

‘Mrs Parkinson saw you drive in last night,’ she said. ‘She called Mum, and Mum called me. I thought you’d be here so I left the kids with their gran until Rob gets home and popped down.’

My smile faltered slightly. In my opinion Rob and the kids were the reason Chloé and I had grown apart. Inseparable at school, we’d remained close when I left Claddach. But after uni, while I threw myself into my work, Chloé married Rob, took a teaching job in Inverness, moved home and squeezed out two children in quick succession. After that we didn’t have much in common any more though we’d kept in touch with regular emails. I told myself I was bored with Chloé’s talk of nappies and nurseries but the truth was I was a little in awe of her. She seemed like a proper grown up, while I still felt like a child. Now, even though I was pleased to see her, I sat awkwardly opposite her, not sure what to say next.

‘So,’ I finally began as Eva put a cappuccino in front of Chloé without being asked. ‘Is everything still shit?’

Chloé laughed and looked sheepish.

‘I was a bit overdramatic in my last email,’ she said, sticking her finger in the froth of her coffee. ‘It’s just things haven’t exactly worked out as I planned, you know?’

I nodded, even though in terms of my career, things had worked out exactly as I’d planned.

‘I never thought I’d be stuck here, no job and two kids before I’m even thirty.’

‘But you’re feeling better now?’ I asked.

Chloé leaned forward.

‘Thanks to Suky,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t told anyone how I was feeling – only you. Not Rob, or my mum. Then I was in here a few weeks ago and Suky brought me a cake I hadn’t ordered. You know how she does?’

‘I do.’ I eyed Chloé’s cappuccino, which she hadn’t ordered either, suspiciously.

‘Anyway, about two days later I bumped into Mary – she’s the head at the primary school here – we got chatting and she mentioned they needed someone three days a week to do extra tuition with some of the kids. We had a chat, I taught a lesson for her, blah blah, you know the drill. And I’ve got a new job, which is perfect. And then I mentioned that I’d been looking at the MAs in the Open University brochure, Mary made a couple of calls and suddenly the council is funding me to do the course I want. Isn’t it funny how these things just happen?’

‘Isn’t it,’ I said drily, glancing at Eva, who was studiously ignoring us.

‘I think I was one of the last people Suky helped actually, before…’ She paused. ‘You know.’

I didn’t want to talk about Suky’s cancer right now. I changed the subject.

‘So what’s going on here?’ I asked, though I didn’t really care.

‘Ooh well there is some gossip. Have you heard it?’

‘I’ve only just arrived, Chlo,’ I said.

She stared at me, as if to say so?

‘I haven’t heard any gossip.’

‘There’s a hot new man in town,’ she said.

‘Really?’ This was interesting. ‘Permanently?’ Claddach had a stream of ever-changing arty visitors but no one ever stayed long.

‘Apparently so. For the foreseeable anyway. And…’ She was almost bouncing in her chair with excitement. ‘He’s American. Some dotcom millionaire.’

‘Probably one of Harry’s friends,’ I said. Harry’s business – a self-help empire – had started online.

Chloé looked deflated.

‘Oh do you think?’

‘Joke.’

Chloé rolled her eyes and carried on as though I hadn’t spoken.

‘Anyway, he’s hot, rich, American – the women of Claddach are in a frenzy.’

I chuckled.

‘Millicent Fry is beside herself,’ Chloé said.

‘Who’s she?’

‘Oh she’s a treat,’ said Chloé. ‘One of the rat-race escapees.’ Claddach was full of people running from life in Glasgow, Edinburgh or down south. There were writers, artists, poets, potters, silversmiths – all sorts.

‘So what does she do?’ I asked.

‘She runs the B&B,’ Chloé said. ‘Only she calls it a boutique hotel.’

She carried on talking, but I had lost interest as self-pity overwhelmed me. All these people escaping the rat race and I couldn’t wait to get back to it.

‘Mum wants me to stay,’ I said, interrupting Chloé’s tales of Millicent Fry.