hug, closing the last few inches of distance between us.
‘See you next time. It’s good having you home, Lexie,’ she says.
And those words make my heart feel as if it were a balloon on the end of a string, lightening my steps as I turn Daisy’s baby pushchair towards Keeper’s Cottage with a final wave to the others.
As we pass the jetty, another figure waves to us from beside a pile of creels. I raise a hand in salute.
‘Bat,’ remarks Daisy, approvingly.
‘Hello, Davy.’
His long legs, clad in his usual oilskin bib-and-brace trousers, cover the distance between us in just a few strides. His Land Rover is parked outside the house beside us, I realise. It’s one of the larger homes in the village, with dormer windows below its slate roof and a well-tended garden behind a wooden gate.
‘Hi, Lexie. And hello to you, too, Miss Daisy. Been socialising over at Elspeth’s, have you?’
I nod. And realise that I don’t mind that he knows how I’ve spent my morning. For a change, it feels reassuring rather than claustrophobic, the way that this small community watches over me and my daughter.
‘Well, I’m glad I caught you,’ he says. ‘The weather’s set fair for a couple of days. If you’re free tomorrow it’ll be an opportunity to come out in the boat. If you’d still like to, that is.’
‘Bat,’ Daisy says again, beaming at him and kicking her feet in the air.
We both laugh.
‘I’ll take that as a yes, then.’ Davy grins.
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘What should I bring?’
‘Just make sure you’re both warmly dressed. It’s always a wee bit chillier once we get out on the water. Pack some extra layers too. Some juice for Daisy, maybe? I’ve got life jackets and everything else we’ll be needing. We can leave mid-morning and have a bit of lunch on the boat if you’re happy to stay out a wee bit longer. But we can play it by ear, let you get your sea legs and see how the two of you like it.’
‘Thanks, Davy, that sounds great. It’s a date.’ I say the words without thinking, then catch myself and blush furiously. ‘I mean, it’s not a date-date, obviously. I just mean we’d love to . . . we’d really enjoy . . .’ I tail off in confusion.
His grey-blue eyes crinkle in amusement, but he keeps a straight face, kindly pretending not to notice the fool I’m making of myself. ‘I’ll come and pick you up at the cottage, then, shall I? About ten-thirty?’
And I smile and nod again, thankful for the breeze from the loch that cools my blazing cheeks. As I push Daisy homewards, I find that the balloon-on-the-end-of-a-string feeling is still with me and realise that under my breath, I’m humming to myself again.
True to his word, Davy pulls up in front of Keeper’s Cottage at ten-thirty sharp. He strides up the path, whistling, and I hurry to open the door. I pull on my wellies and jacket, scooping up Daisy who is already bundled into so many warm layers that she resembles an overstuffed teddy bear, her arms sticking out almost at right angles from the sides of her well-padded body. Davy stows the bags containing extra clothes, hats and gloves, nappies, a changing mat, a double-handled cup with a spout, two bottles of milk, a carton of apple juice, a bunch of bananas and a packet of custard creams into the back of the Land Rover.
‘I was only planning on going as far as Firemore Bay,’ he says cheerfully. ‘Looks like you’re ready for an Atlantic crossing!’
The loch is calm beneath a wide blue sky, its shallows and depths casting shot-silk stripes of light and shade across its surface. Along the shore, oystercatchers step purposefully across the sand, intent on picking out cockles or searching for mussels among the rocks to feed their young. Davy points out a pair of red-throated divers, who lift their long beaks skywards as we pass, showing off the silvered patches on their snakelike necks that will turn to blazes of scarlet in the summer.
The Bonnie Stuart is already tied up alongside the jetty and Davy jumps on board first, reaching back to take Daisy from me and then offering me a steadying hand as I step on to the deck. ‘Here you go,’ he says, handing me a pair of life jackets, one small, one large. ‘You can sit over there, if you like, and I’ll get us underway.’