Page 51 of The Scottish Island Inn

‘Oh. I thought you liked it.’ Simon was acting as if they were still a couple and they’d had a silly little tiff. He led her to the back of his car, opened the boot and pulled out a couple of expensive-looking gift bags. ‘It’s nice, the Inn. The island’s beautiful. Why didn’t you ever want to come and visit? It would’ve been a lovely holiday.’

‘Because I was estranged from my family, and I didn’t want to come back,’ she said, curtly.

‘I know. But you’re back now.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘What changed?’

‘I actually don’t know how to answer that without being rude,’ she said. What a question! It was like Simon had lost his memory.

‘Charming. Here. Take these,’ he instructed, handing her the gift bags.

She took them, instinctively, but then set them down in the mud.

‘Simon. You’re not listening. You’re not welcome here,’ she said, as firmly as she could.

‘Well, I must say I expected a warmer welcome. Aren’t the Scots famed for their hospitality?’ Simon asked.

It was like he was living in another world, Sorrel thought. He was so incredibly delusional. Had Simon always been like this? Had she not noticed until now?

‘Yes, we are,’ she said, slowly. ‘But there’s hospitality, and then there’s not being keen to welcome the man who cheated on you and stole from your business account. Who has also always been unpleasant and controlling.’

Simon looked like he’d been slapped in the face.

‘Goodness. Tell me what you really think, why don’t you,’ he said, eyes wide.

‘I should have told you what I really thought years ago,’ she replied, hotly. ‘But I was young, and I didn’t know who you were until it was too late. You decimated my confidence. You made me think I couldn’t go anywhere else. You scared me.’

‘Pfft. No one could scare you. You’ve always been like granite. Who was the one who left her whole family, her whole life, on a whim one day and came to London not knowing anyone? I remember you then. You might have been young, but you were not a victim, and you’re not now. So don’t act like one.’

Simon had gotten too close, and she stepped away.

‘Fine. Let’s talk. But not here.’ She pointed to his car. ‘We can go to the coffee shop and talk there.’

‘It has to be your way, doesn’t it?’ Simon huffed, but he walked back to his car. Sorrel rushed to the passenger side and got in, tense at the thought that one of her family might come out at any moment and see them.

She didn’t want anyone to meet Simon. She didn’t want him to smooth-talk his way into their hearts, and then have to spend days trying to convince her family that he wasn’t as delightful as they thought. Maybe Heather and Bluebell would have the presence of mind not to get taken in, but her mother definitely would.

‘Believe me, Simon. Everything that’s happened between us wasn’t how I would have planned it,’ Sorrel said, as he started the engine and reversed out of the drive.

But I’m damn sure that it’s going to be my way, going forward, she thought, feeling her resolve harden. Simon might have told her what to do in the past, but those days were over. Now, she was in charge of her own life. And it felt good.

TWENTY-EIGHT

‘So.’ Simon sat down at one of the tables outside Muriel’s and patted the seat next to him. ‘I feel like we have a lot to catch up on.’

Sorrel sat down opposite him, deliberately on the chair opposite to the one he had indicated.

‘Yes, we do. Why don’t you start by telling me how you intend to pay back the money that you owe the business? Otherwise, I’ll be reporting it to the police,’ Sorrel began, stirring her coffee. She smiled at two middle-aged women at the next table who were staring at her and Simon. Doubtless, they knew who she was, and were gossiping about her.

‘The police?’ Simon cried out, shrilly. The women stared at them both eagerly. Sorrel wanted to go over to them and tell them that if they were looking for a show, they’d come to the right place. She was just getting started.

‘You stole twenty thousand pounds, Simon. I’m not about to just let you off.’ Sorrel met his eyes levelly.

‘I did not steal it. I’m a shareholder and company director. I took a dividend,’ he replied, sulkily. ‘The police wouldn’t be interested.’

‘I think they would. Taking a dividend has to follow a procedure, including me signing off on it. I did not sign off on paying your girlfriend.’

‘That’s a technicality.’ Simon sighed, running his hand through his hair.

‘No, that’s the law,’ Sorrel replied, crisply.