And if the cat is anything to go by, they’re all going to be minions of Satan.
Deciding to ignore how thoroughly duped I’ve been, I collect my case from the car and head upstairs to unpack. There’s only one bedroom, and it takes up the whole roof space. Not fancy, but warm and comfortable.
Shattered from the long drive here, I send a quick text to Amy letting her know I arrived safely, then crawl into bed.
I close my eyes, and for a moment, I’m back at the car this morning, Amy clinging to me, ugly crying on my shoulder, insisting Scotland is full of rabid haggis and giant red-haired men waiting to ravish me. For once in her life, she might be right.
My best friend was my only reason to stay in London. But after my messy divorce and her sister, my good friend’s death, I needed out. Years of my own cancer treatment have taken their toll; now in remission, this is my fresh start. And as much as I want to support everyone else, right now, I need to put myself first. So, here I am.
Sunshine pours through the windows and across my face. I blink, disorientated for a second, then I remember I’m in Scotland.
Pulling on my boots and jacket, I head out into the cool sunny morning to face the zoo.
Finding the hay barn, I’m greeted by two yapping rats that must be the dogs in the letter. They circle my feet, forcing me to dance around them, not wanting to stand on them but trying to avoid their muddy paws. The feeding schedule is pinned where I was told.
Finding the rats’ bowls, I shut them up with a pile of dog food. The ringing in my ears from the barking could summon bats.
Continuing my investigation, I find the necessary nourishment for the rest of the menagerie. Luckily, the large animals don’t need to be fed; apparently, they survive on grass. So, it’s just a case of checking they’re still there and haven’t lost a leg. With all my dependents counted and checked, I head off to find the town called Aviemore.
The Cooray Inn is warm and welcoming, located in a basement beneath the local bookmakers. Behind the scratched wooden bar, a small woman with black hair is wiping glasses.
“Afternoon, what can I get you?” She smiles with bright white teeth. “You here for a holiday?”
Taken aback by her forwardness, I stutter, “White wine, please. No, I’m house-sitting just out of town for a few months. Eden House. Mr. Eden said I was to contact Ainsley if I have any issues?”
Handing me my drink as I pass her a few coins, she shrugs. “I’m Ainsley. Yes, he popped in last week. Said they were leaving for a while. I don’t know them well, just to say hello. I did buy a drawing from them once. Mrs. Eden is an artist of some sort. Nice to meet you. Well, if you need anything, just ask.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “Yes, I’m Katie, and no doubt I’ll be seeing you regularly.”
She giggles. “Sure will. This is the best place in town. Not that there’s much choice. Aviemore isn’t big.”
Her eyes go wide, pinned over my shoulder. I turn, and the most beautiful man is walking down the stairs.
My blood heats on instinct.
For fuck’s sake, Katie. He’s young enough to be your son.
He fills the doorframe. Military, without a doubt. Tattoos snake up his arms. His white T-shirt stretches across his chest. His expression is fierce, like he hasn’t smiled in years. Stunning, but deadly.
A small girl walks beside him, holding his hand. She’s probably around eleven, with long red hair and dimples. The way he scans the room for threats, she’s definitely his.
“Mum!” she squeals, running behind the bar to hug Ainsley. “Are you coming to the new house? Dad’s home.”
Her youthful face beams. Her father looks like he’s swallowed a bee.
Ainsley’s expression softens, but she shakes her head. “No, darling, I’ll be staying at our home. Dad’s got his own house now with Dog. We won’t all be living together. Sometimes things change.”
The little girl wilts. “But, Mum, Dad’s home. We can be a family again. Please.” Tears spill down her reddening cheeks. The man—her father—goes rigid.
“You stay with your dad tonight,” she says gently. “I’ll be at home tomorrow.” She glances at him. “Did you not explain the situation to your daughter?”
He grunts but says nothing.
I’m caught somewhere between despair and fury, but not knowing who’s at fault, I don’t know who to hate, if any of them. My heart breaks for the little girl with bamboozled eyes darting from one parent to the other. That only makes me madder. She shouldn’t be witnessing this.
“Why are you even here?” Ainsley bristles, losing the softness of motherhood.
“Hannah wanted to see you,” he mutters, not quite meeting her eye. “She’s confused.”