Page 71

“Of the four siblings, you’re the one who’s always been the most passionate about the hotel, and so if anyone has to leave, you don’t think it should be you,” Emily finishes. She’s not being unkind—just stating what we both know to be a fact.

“Well . . . aye. I can’t imagine ever living anywhere but here. Ally, though? He’s never felt about the hotel the way I do.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’m not the only one who quite likes the idea of me, Ally, and Ru having our own place?”

“Not that I want rid of you!” I clarify. “You and I work really well together. But if, rather than living here, you’d prefer to live somewhere else—somewhere nearby, of course—and simply come here to work . . .”

Emily nods then gives me a small smile. “Yeah. Why don’t I have a chat with Ally, at least to float the idea?”

“Aye, like you say, to float the idea. In the meantime, though, I’ve got a suggestion for you.”

“Yeah?”

“You always loved doing yoga with Grace, but because you look after the babies while she’s running classes, you never get a chance to go anymore. I reckon a session would do you a world of good. Why don’t you go join in while I look after these two?”

She frowns. “You really think you can look after two babies and run the hotel?”

“Well, Jamie’s about too. And it’s not like you’ll be far—just in the function room. The class is only an hour, right? I’m sure I’ll manage.”

The babies will not stop crying. Rocking and singing to them hasn’t helped. I’ve tried my best—Jamie too.

Earlier, Emily assured me they’d both been fed recently, and as far as I can tell, their nappies are dry. If I don’t do something soon, Emily is bound to come through to see what all the fuss is about, and I really don’t want to disturb her yoga class. I reckon she needs it today.

That’s why, with Jamie’s help, I get the babies wrapped up for going outdoors. He secures Ru in the sling on my front, then we place Callie into her pram.

I’m going to take them for a walk. I can do this.

“You’re in charge,” I say to Jamie before setting off outside.

It’s a brisk November day but bright and dry. I’m fully expecting this to be a disaster, and to have to run back into the hotel and straight to Emily, conceding defeat. But actually, once I start walking along Main Street, both babies calm relatively quickly. I don’t want to get cocky, but . . . am I a natural at this?

I head down to the river and go along the riverside path for a while. The water glistens in the sharp sunlight filtering through bare branches. Ducks paddle serenely, leaving gentle ripples in their wake as they drift downstream.

When I come to a bench, I snap a photo of me and the babies and send it to Iona. She’s working, but she obviously has her phone on her because she messages back almost straight away.

Iona

Oh my God! I honestly didn’t think babies were as cute as puppies. But now that I see YOU with some, I think I may just have started ovulating.

Chuckling, I check how long I’ve been out for then decide I can probably start to head back, taking my time. I’d rather not continue along the path any further, just in case the crying starts again. I don’t want to take Ru and Callie too far from their mummies.

I retrace my steps. As I approach the old stone bridge, by which I got down to the river, voices reach me from up on top of it. Well, I say “voices”, but it’s mainly Morag the baker I can hear. Whoever she’s talking with can barely get a word in edgeways. Morag is a lovely woman, but a chatterbox and also quite the gossip.

It’s only when she says my name that I come to a stop and listen to the conversation more closely.

“I’m glad Iona has finally seen sense,” Morag continues. “For years, every time she came back to visit, he’d run up to greet her, happy as anything, but she had no interest in him whatsoever. And yet just look at the lad! What a specimen. How could anyone say no to him? Iona, meanwhile . . . well, yes, she’s certainly pretty in her own way, but he’s clearly the more attractive of the two.”

What? I think. She’s fucking gorgeous.

“She’s very lucky,” Morag continues. “Very, very lucky. Playing hard to get obviously worked for her in the end.”

I’m completely caught off-guard. Is this what people around Bannock actually think? Hell, even if it’s only what a few of them think, that’s not good enough.

It’s not the case that Iona is “lucky” to have me. Instead, it’s a bloody miracle that, after the way I hurt her, I’ve somehow managed to win her back. People don’t know the truth about what happened between us in the past, so obviously they’re creating their own narratives.

I’m about to head up to the bridge and confront Morag when I stop myself. No, correcting one person won’t nip the gossip in the bud. I need to go bigger. It’s not okay for anyone around town to think Iona is the lucky one. I need everyone to understand that I’m the luckiest man alive.

I have to set the record straight.