Christmas at the Island Hotel - Jenny Colgan Page 0,84

This was going to be tricky. Very tricky indeed.

Chapter 59

Isla tended to keep her makeup out of sight at home, as her mother would always have something to say about the cost and about it being a little tarty. Vera wasn’t anything like old enough to have been to the dinner, Isla thought, but even there you could see groups of friends: ladies chatting with each other and having a laugh and even discussing a party as the group had carried on into the bar. She wished so dearly her mum had people like that.

But tonight, having cycled at top speed down the hill from the Rock into the village, then jumped into the shower, she was in too much of a hurry to be too bothered about what her mother thought. Even though they’d agreed to meet at Harbour’s Rest following her shift, and even though he still had to mop the floor, and after all, where else was he going to go? what else was he going to do?—she still, nonetheless, felt slightly that if she were late she’d get there and he’d be gone. Ridiculous. But still.

Like he was something out of a fairy tale, a puff of smoke. She put on her prettiest dress that she’d bought for dancing at Colton’s wedding the year before and never gotten to use. It was palest pink satin, pretty as anything and far too thin for the weather.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to meet a friend for a drink.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just a friend.” Isla felt daring and nervous.

“That lipstick looks tarty.”

“Good,” said Isla.

Her mother looked stunned. “Don’t answer me back,” she said.

Isla rolled her eyes.

“And don’t you roll your eyes at me. Are you going out to see some lad?”

“Maybe,” said Isla.

“Is he good enough for you?”

“For once,” said Isla. “For once would you let me be the judge of what is good enough for me?!”

There was silence. Isla felt terrified. But for once she wasn’t going to be the conciliatory one, the one who tried to make everything better.

And she went straight back out the door and onto her bicycle, her hands trembling, before she even turned around and saw her mother’s face, her hand still holding that damn teapot.

Chapter 60

There weren’t really hours at the Harbour’s Rest. Inge-Britt generally closed up when everyone was done, which could be very early in the winter, and January, she closed altogether and went to Iceland to sit in volcanic hot pools. More than once the people of Mure had suggested clubbing together to fumigate the place while she wasn’t around—she normally left at least one fire exit propped open by mistake, it wouldn’t be a problem to get in—but it hadn’t happened so far.

In the summer, by contrast, when it didn’t get dark, often people got rather carried away and could be found carousing until the early hours, which were also broad daylight, so everything could get a touch confusing.

So ten P.M. on a December night found the cozy bar warm and welcoming, full of jolly locals celebrating Christmas or farmers having a quiet pint, this being their quieter time of year before the havoc of spring and lambing. As usual they were talking about the disastrous work of farming, but nobody minded so much, as there had never been a year ever when farmers hadn’t been talking about the disastrous work of farming.

Isla felt incredibly self-conscious as she walked in in her best dress. What if he wasn’t there? What if he’d changed his mind? What if the bar was full of everyone she knew and they all had to watch her being stood up? Why couldn’t there be at least one place to go where she didn’t know every single person on earth? Normally she’d found that such a nice, comforting thing about living in a small community. Tonight it was utterly unbearable.

She had texted Iona en route, particularly to tell her her big news—that she was thinking of moving out! Iona had been on her to do this for ages, had visions of them sharing a flat together, but she’d known Isla would never leave that awful mother of hers. Iona’s own mother was a riot, they would happily share a bottle of prosecco on a Saturday night watching Strictly together.

Isla glanced around the room and her heart leaped, as she suddenly forgot everyone else looking at her and saying hello, for there wasn’t a soul on Mure who hadn’t known Isla since she was a shy,