Page 19 of The Scottish Island Wedding

‘Not really, no.’ Heather let out a slightly panicked laugh. ‘I didn’t expect to be marrying into the Scottish Kardashians. That’s what the press calls them.’

‘And Matty never said anything? About them being so rich and famous?’

‘No. He was very quiet about his family.’ Heather rubbed her temples: she felt a headache lurking. ‘I wish he would’ve said something. It just makes me feel… anxious… that he could have kept something that important from me. I wonder what else he’s not telling me.’

‘Yes, dear. I can understand that. But he obviously had his reasons. Have you talked to him yet?’ Chrissie reached for an open box of chocolates beside her bed, removed the lid and dug around with her forefinger for a moment before popping one into her mouth. She offered the box to Heather, who shook her head.

‘No thank you, Auntie.’ Heather didn’t want to explain that she actually couldn’t find Matty, and that he’d disappeared, but her aunt looked keenly at her.

‘He’s disappeared on you, hasn’t he?’ she asked. ‘He wasn’t there at the welcome drinks, and you looked so uncomfortable. There was some sort of excuse – he’d had to go to work unexpectedly. But who goes to work in the middle of a meet-the-parents party? You can tell me, my lovely one.’

‘Oh, Auntie!’ Heather let out a sob. She’d been trying to keep it together, but now she couldn’t do it any longer. ‘What if the wedding’s over? We had a row, and now he’s just gone! Who does that? It’s twelve days until the wedding!’

‘Oh, no!’ Aunt Chrissie looked appalled. ‘Have you known him do this kind of thing before? Where would he go, do you think?’

‘I don’t know. But he was being really secretive with his phone in the past couple of weeks. I was starting to worry about it, and then he explained it was his family… he hadn’t told them, and then I think they arrived pretty much as soon as they found out about the wedding. But now, I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s not just that? What if he’s found someone else?’ The old doubts raised their heads in Heather’s imagination again, like the sea serpents in the loch that Sorrel and Bluebell used to write their stories about. ‘And, no, he hasn’t disappeared before, but…’ she trailed off.

‘But you’ve only known him a year, dear,’ Aunt Chrissie finished for her. ‘There’s that saying, isn’t there… You don’t know someone unless you’ve seen them through every season. Technically, you have, but I still don’t think you can know someone even if you’ve seen them through multiple seasons. But that’s probably age speaking.’ She tutted. ‘I don’t love being so antique. I wish I had more of the joie de vivre I had as a girl. It’s nice to believe in love and all those things.’

‘It just feels so right, Auntie.’ Heather sighed. ‘Well… it felt so right. Until recently, I’d never felt this loved. Now… I just don’t know.’

‘Who are the Kardashians?’ Chrissie asked, peering at Heather through her thick glasses and chewing slowly; the glasses magnified her eyes, making her look slightly manic. ‘You said that, just now. I was trying to be polite and act like I knew what you were talking about, but I don’t.’

‘Oh, an American celebrity family. They had a TV show and now they all have various celebrity careers. They’re always in the magazines.’

‘Oh, I see. Like the Fondas.’

‘Hmm. Kind of. More like a real-life Dallas or Dynasty, but without the oil.’ It was the best comparison Heather could come up with that she thought Aunt Chrissie would know.

‘Oh, my.’ Chrissie raised an eyebrow. ‘I did love Joan Collins in Dynasty. She was marvellous. Such outfits. She was always my inspiration when I was a model. That was a long time ago, though.’

‘Hmm.’ Heather looked up, realising what Chrissie had just said. ‘Wait. What? I didn’t know you were a model.’

‘Oh. Yes. I was, for a while,’ Chrissie said evasively. She reached into the chocolate box again and took out another sweet. ‘I’m not supposed to have more than a couple of these per day, you know. Because of my diabetes. But I do love them.’

‘What kind of model? Fashion? Catwalks?’ Heather leaned forward, curious to know more.

‘Hm. More or less.’ Chrissie picked at the quilt. ‘You know, Evelinda made this quilt. Rather nicer than some of her other questionable taste in interiors.’

Heather got the distinct feeling that Aunt Chrissie was trying to change the subject.

‘Auntie, tell me about your modelling. I want to know! I could do with the distraction,’ Heather insisted.

Chrissie sighed. ‘Oh, really? It’s not very interesting. You just stand how someone tells you to stand, look how someone tells you to look, and wear things. That’s all it is.’

‘Well, I don’t think that is all it is. For one thing, I take a horrible picture; I can’t arrange myself in pictures like some people seem to be able to do. And for another, I want to hear about what you did! It’s exciting! I had no idea. I don’t think anyone knows, do they?’

‘None of you girls. Joan remembers.’ Chrissie pulled a face. ‘Joan remembers everything, unfortunately. I’m waiting for her to lose her marbles so that she won’t constantly keep reminding us all of things we want to forget.’

‘You want to forget being a model? Why?’

‘Oh, it’s not interesting enough to remember,’ Aunt Chrissie said, airily. ‘More to the point, we should talk more about how to deal with the in-laws from hell.’

‘Oh, I don’t know what to do, if I’m honest, Auntie.’ Heather took her great-aunt’s hand with its paper-thin skin and held it carefully. ‘Matty’s left and he won’t talk to me. Elizabeth is awful. Everything just feels as though it’s going wrong.’

‘Oh, my lovely girl.’ Chrissie kissed her great-niece’s hand. ‘We’ll get the better of them, you mark my words. And this wedding is yours, not theirs. If time has taught me anything, Heather, it’s that this is your one beautiful life, and it’s up to you to make the decisions that will make you happy. No one else will do it for you. That said, this is your beautiful wedding, and I’m not going to let anyone spoil it for you. And if I can’t stop them, then Joan certainly can.’ She winked.

‘Oh, Aunt Joan definitely has the measure of Elizabeth Campbell,’ Heather said, thinking of their exchange the previous day.