A Christmas Wish on Arran (Scottish Romances #4)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Callum sat in the car with his takeaway coffee staring straight ahead at the sea. He couldn’t think straight and he knew why. Elizabeth. He couldn’t take his eyes off her in the café. Even though he had seen her yesterday, somehow she had managed to take his breath away again. She was wearing jeans, trainers and a red sweater, and with her hair swept up in a ponytail she looked as fresh-faced and beautiful as ever. She had always had that effect on him, and he couldn’t believe she was still having such a profound impact on him a couple of decades on.

He had felt a sudden quiver of excitement when she’d walked into him yesterday and he’d felt her against his chest. What he wanted to do was hold her tight and kiss her the way that he used to. Did she also feel the connection? Surely she must and it wasn’t him just imagining it? Lately he seemed to be questioning his own judgement on things. Maybe it was all in his head? Maybe she thought he was stalking her. He had never been into the café two days in a row in his entire life. What were the chances of her literally bumping into him both times? He had planned to go to the Christmas lights switch-on with Daisy. But he assumed that was why she was in Lamlash. If he went that would be really creepy, and she might think he was stalking her. He shook his head. Now he was totally over-analysing things.

Callum had spent so long regretting the day he hadn’t gone to meet her at the train station. Even now, as he thought back, he could feel that visceral pain in his heart. They had spent such an incredible summer together. From the moment they met, Callum couldn’t take his eyes off her. It didn’t matter that she was dressed in her work cleaning outfit — drab grey trousers and a tunic — she could have been wearing a bin bag and he would still have thought her the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Whenever she saw him, a bright smile lit up her face and he only ever had eyes for her. He would always look back on that summer with fond memories — he had fallen head over heels in love and they had planned a future together. But fate had intervened and called a halt to those plans. The truth was, what happened next was out of Callum’s control and he wasn’t to blame. Something had happened that prevented him from catching the ferry to the mainland that morning, and then the train into Glasgow. Something huge, which had turned his life upside down completely.

He took a sip of his coffee as he thought back to those final few days before he was due to leave Arran. He had been all set to go and had planned so meticulously for this adventure. His bags were ready and sat by the door, having been packed and repacked several times. It was as though he was about to set off on the most incredible adventure with the love of his life. His parents were sad that he was leaving, but totally supported his decision to follow his heart and do what he wanted to do, rather than what he felt everyone else expected him to do, which was continue working with his dad. He closed his eyes and let out a long slow breath as he thought about his dad, who had worked so hard to provide for his family, and then had passed on his trade to his son. He adored his kids and his wife and was loved by everyone who he’d ever done some joinery work for. His dad had been the kind of man he’d always aspired to be then, and now. The night before Callum was due to leave, his mother had made a special roast dinner with all the trimmings in his honour.

‘Just let me treat you for one more night,’ she’d said. ‘It’s not often we’re all here together.’ His sister had just arrived home from a summer job working as an au pair in France, and having a family meal together was a bit of a rarity. ‘You never quite know when we’ll get the chance to do this again,’ his mum had said. ‘Or where your next meal will be coming from. Especially in London. Everything will cost a fortune.’

Callum had laughed. ‘I’m not sure it’s all that bad.’

His mum had ladled extras of everything onto his plate. ‘You need to keep your strength up.’

After they had eaten his dad had groaned, ‘I’ve eaten too much. My eyes are bigger than my stomach. It’ll be back to the bread and water tomorrow.’

‘I’ll remind you of that then will I?’ His mum had laughed.

His father stood up and stretched, then made his apologies. ‘That was delicious. But I’m so full. I need to move from the table. I’m just going to go and have a soft seat by the window.’

Callum could still clearly remember hearing him pad across the flagstone tiles of the kitchen and the familiar creak of the chair when he sank into it. He could still hear the background chatter of his mum and sister as they clattered the plates into the sink, the whistle of the kettle as his mum waited for it to boil. He glanced over at his dad, whose head was slumped down, his chin pointing towards his chest. It hadn’t taken him long to nod off. It never did. His dad had a knack for grabbing a twenty-minute nap when he could.

‘Here’s your tea love.’ His mother had placed the mug on a nest of tables next to Dad’s armchair and lightly tapped his arm.

Callum had started to help with the drying of the dishes, but looking over he’d seen the anxious expression on his mum’s face. It was like watching something unfold in slow motion — he could do nothing to stop the tsunami of a wave that was about to hit his family. His mum was now on her knees and gently shaking his dad. His sister ran over and looked up at Callum, her eyes wide and willing him to fix things.

‘Dad,’ she wailed. ‘Wake up. Help Callum. Do something.’

But Callum couldn’t do a thing. He couldn’t manage to fix or save his dad. In the fog that followed, the medics kept telling him afterwards that nobody could have done anything to change the outcome. His dad had had a massive heart attack as he sat down in that chair and had died immediately and peacefully. In the weeks that followed, Callum felt a sense of duty to honour his dad and step up and make the decisions. Callum had to organise his funeral, and all that went with that, and then deal with the trail of administration that his father had left behind. All his plans were cancelled as he took over the running of his dad’s joinery. He knew that’s what his dad would have wanted him to do. Leaving the island was impossible. How could he abandon his mum and sister when they were all so absorbed in grief? Several times, he thought vaguely about trying to contact Beth. But what difference would it have made? She had already gone and would be very settled in her new life. He was glad that she’d always said there was never any pressure to be at the station. He hoped she would assume that he’d changed his mind and move on. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel saddled with him, or so guilty about being away that she should return to Arran.

His phone started to ring, pulling him back into the present. It was Daisy, who had spent the afternoon with a friend.

‘Hi. It’s me. Can you pick me up now please?’

‘Course I will.’ Callum immediately wondered if she was okay — she sounded quite subdued. ‘I just stopped at the café to get myself a coffee. I will be with you in five minutes. Are we still going to see the lights being switched on?’

‘No. I just want to go home.’ Her voice was flat.

Callum frowned. ‘Okay I’ll be there soon.’ He wondered what was on her mind. Maybe it was something to do with school, though it couldn’t be English, as they had chatted about that and agreed that enlisting Beth’s help in the first instance would be a huge help. Then they could take it from there. He knew Beth would have drawn her own conclusions from being at parents’ evening the other night. But he could hardly start getting into big conversations about his role as a single parent when all they seemed to do was have stilted and brief chats in the café or school.

He shook his head, wondering if Daisy maybe had the Sunday blues as she thought about going to school the next day. He also knew, by the time he collected her, that her mood could have changed completely. He was somehow slowly becoming more used to the ways of a teenage girl. He wiped away a tear that had rolled down his cheek. How he missed Isla.

Clearing his throat, he started the engine. It didn’t matter what had been thrown in his path, his world had somehow kept going. He’d long ago decided that he needed to treat each day as an adventure. He had to always remind himself to have hope. That had kept him going. Well, just about. Maybe Beth was just the next curveball in his path and, as Isla had always told him, it was better to be open to all of life’s possibilities. How he wished she was here so he could ask her what to do now.