Page 47 of The Scottish Island Wedding

‘It’s not connected to the wedding, is it? The fact that you live here?’ Primrose asked.

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so… that would be really weird.’ However, Heather was beginning to understand that, as far as the Campbells were concerned, there was probably a lot that she didn’t know.

‘I mean… Matty’s been on the island a few months, on and off, right? Seeing you? He might have seen the land and scoped it out while he was here,’ Primrose continued, rubbing her hands together. She wore cargo trousers and a sweatshirt with the names of Santa’s reindeer on it. ‘Does he do that? Scout for locations for these things, for his parents?’

‘Not as far as I know. He’s been providing legal support. That’s what he said.’

However, now that Primrose had said it, Heather couldn’t not see the possibility that Matty might have helped coordinate the island as a likely possibility for the development. How far in advance did these things happen? she wondered. Was it likely that it would have just been a few months ago that Matty might have come to Skye to see her, and noticed the land, ripe for development? Or was it just a coincidence?

They started to walk down the road, into the crowd. Heather saw that people had set up trestle tables with tea and coffee and snacks for the protestors. Several people called out in a friendly way to the sisters as they walked by. Heather took a short video on her phone and sent it to Matty.

Seems like the locals agree with me about the golf course, she texted. She watched as Matty read the message. She could see he was typing a reply; she watched the dots for a few moments, but then they disappeared.

Hm.

‘Well, it seems friendly enough,’ Bluebell observed. ‘I don’t feel like anyone’s about to kick off.’

‘That’s something.’ Heather nodded. ‘I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt. Are the police here?’ She looked around, anxiously.

‘Yeah, look. There’s Bill and Claire. Eating hot dogs.’ Bluebell pointed to a middle-aged man and woman to their right; Angus and Catriona were friends with the local police on the island, as they were with so many people; when you’d lived somewhere all of your life – and especially when you ran a local business – you got to know people. People on Skye depended on each other.

‘Speaking of getting hurt, have you spoken to Blossom?’ Violet asked her twin in a low voice. ‘She is not okay right now.’

‘Yes.’ Heather frowned. ‘She told me things with Tom aren’t too good.’

‘Yeah. I had a chat with her last night. It’s bad.’

‘How bad?’ Heather whispered back, appalled. ‘I thought they just needed a bit of quality time together. Mum was going to take the kids for a bit while they’re here…’

‘I think it’s a bit beyond them needing a night off. Bloss is really at the end of her tether.’ Violet shook her head.

‘I feel terrible about it, but I don’t know what I can do,’ Heather said. Blossom and Tom had been together a long time, and they’d always seemed solid.

On paper, it was perfect.

‘I don’t think she wanted to depress you, given that you’re about to get married.’ Violet shrugged. ‘Kind of a downer.’

‘Bloss did say that, being home, it’s made her realise that she could move back with Mum and Dad at the Inn, with the kids, if she needed to. Especially now that your room’s going to be free,’ Violet said.

‘That’s true. Mum would want her home if she wasn’t with Tom. Or at least nearby. Oh, I just can’t believe that it’s all going wrong. It’s so sad.’ Heather thought back to talking to Blossom the other day. Had Blossom held back, like Violet suggested? Or, had Heather just not heard her sister’s full sadness, because she was so excited about the wedding?

‘Hello there, Balhennie clan.’ PC Claire McDougall sauntered over.

‘Hi, Claire.’ Bluebell waved. ‘Nice day for a bit of protesting.’

‘Ha. Indeed, it is a little chilly.’ Claire surveyed the crowd. ‘But they seem pretty well-behaved so far. Don’t anticipate any trouble. However, the press is here.’ She pointed to some nondescript white vans parked on the road nearby. ‘Nationals. Don’t usually get them this far up here.’

‘Why are they here?’ Heather asked, although she had a good suspicion as to why.

‘Didn’t say. Keeping themselves to themselves, but likely it’s a story about the Campbells, I’m guessing.’ Claire lifted an eyebrow. ‘Your new in-laws come with a lot of publicity, it seems.’

‘Yes. I’m learning that,’ Heather said, frowning.

‘I hear the big day’s coming up. Christmas Day, is it?’

‘Yes. At the castle.’ Heather eyed the crowd anxiously. ‘You’re both welcome to come up for drinks in the evening. There’ll be a ceilidh.’ That was dancing that no one needed classes for. Everyone she knew was familiar with a ceilidh, and, even if you weren’t, you could follow the caller’s instructions and everyone else. Plus, no one was watching or judging. It was just fun, with people getting increasingly more inebriated as the night went on.

‘Ah, most kind, most kind. Your mum and dad have already invited us.’ Claire nodded. ‘I offered our services, seeing as you have some celebrities coming, apparently, but your mother says that there’s private security organised?’