The Little Gift Shop on the Loch Page 3

  Lily had no memories of her mother in this house and if she’d hoped that might make it easier, then she was mistaken. She swallowed down the lump in her throat with the realisation this was going to be more difficult than she ever could have imagined.

  As Lily silently roamed the house, it was clear Iris had been keeping the place polished and clean. Not only that, but Lily was acutely aware that Iris had taken care of the house in the immediate aftermath of Patty’s death, sparing Lily the devastation of seeing her mother’s last movements unfolded and she felt a wave of gratitude and guilt wash over her.

  Suddenly she couldn’t stand the silence. She needed to do something, anything to fill the emptiness. She’d make a cup of tea – that’s what people did to make things feel better. But she didn’t want tea. What she really wanted, she realised, was alcohol.

  She unzipped her suitcase where, protected deep within the folds of clothes, were a few staples she’d brought for her first night; a jar of coffee, teabags, a packet of biscuits and a bottle of wine. Bringing a glass through from the kitchen, she poured from the bottle, imagining the deep plumy taste of the silky red wine soothing its way into her bloodstream. She raised the glass to her mouth and froze.

  Someone was unlocking the front door. With shaky fingers she laid the glass down, her ears straining to hear. Then she remembered – of course, it would be Iris. She hadn’t told her she was coming but perhaps she’d seen her arriving?

  Except the footsteps coming up the stairs didn’t sound like that of a lithe 60-something woman. Some logical part of her brain was telling her burglars didn’t have keys but that didn’t stop her heart hammering uncomfortably in her chest. She’d almost stopped breathing when the door opened and the silhouette of a large man filled the doorway.

  Definitely not Iris.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as they stared at each other until Lily managed to find her voice. ‘Wh-who are you?’ she stuttered.

  The man hitched his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, seemingly in no hurry to explain himself. When he did, his voice was deep and drawling. ‘I could ask you the same thing.’

  Lily opened her mouth and then closed it again, not seeing why she should explain herself to this intruder. Or maybe he was a squatter – he did look a bit scruffy. But a squatter with keys – was that even possible? One thing was for sure, she should never have left the place as long as she had. Taking a step closer, she drew herself up which admittedly didn’t make much impact on their height difference.

  ‘Why don’t you go first – who are you?’ she demanded, amazed her voice sounded normal.

  ‘I’m Jack Armstrong.’ He leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. ‘And you must be Patty’s daughter?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Seriously, who was this man?

  ‘Iris said you’d be here sometime.’

  Slightly placated on hearing Iris’s name, Lily still found his presence extremely unnerving. Maybe because in the semi-darkness his features were shadowed so that only the contours of his cheekbones and strong jawline were visible. Other than that, the only thing she could see was how obviously broad and tall he was. And she still had no idea what he was doing here.

  ‘So um, why are you here?’

  ‘I’m here to feed Misty.’ His tone implied this was something she should know.

  Lily blinked. ‘Misty?’

  At which point, a black and white cat miraculously appeared and began purring and rubbing itself against the man’s legs. Lily frowned. This was all starting to feel quite strange. The man lowered onto his hunches, and Lily watched his hand run along the length of the cat’s black fur. ‘Hello girl,’ he murmured gently.

  Lily suddenly felt exhausted, feeling incapable of understanding anything right now. ‘Sorry but why is there a cat here?’ she asked.

  He straightened up. ‘You didn’t know there was a cat here?’

  ‘Evidently not.’ Her voice was sharper than she’d intended but the unexpectedness of finding this stranger looking after a cat she knew nothing about had thrown her.

  He let out a small sigh. ‘Misty was a stray in the village. I used to feed her now and again but Patty let her come and live here with her. With the place lying empty, we weren’t really sure what to do with her. Thought she might leave of her own accord but she seemed intent on staying and since I live nearby Iris gave me a set of keys. I’ve been keeping an eye on her.’

  There was an awkward pause, Lily unsure of what to say next. Although she couldn’t see them in the dark, she felt his eyes on her, assessing her in some way. ‘So,’ he said eventually. ‘Now you’re here, you can take care of Misty?’

  Lily wasn’t sure she liked the insinuation that she’d simply breezed in on a whim. She also didn’t really like cats. ‘Um, yes … of course.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ he checked, not sounding too convinced.

  ‘Absolutely.’ What on earth was she going to do with it?

  ‘Okay.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Well, in that case her food is under the sink and the litter tray is probably needing emptied.’

  ‘Litter tray?’

  ‘You know, for her—’

  ‘Yes. Of course,’ she snapped.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then, I’m sure you have things to do.’ He looked like he might be about to add something, but Lily didn’t give him a chance.

  ‘I do actually,’ she agreed, making a move towards the door. ‘And er, thank you.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ He paused for a moment, his voice softening. ‘Patty was a lovely lady. I’m sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied quietly.

  He bent down to give the cat a final stroke and then with a brief nod in Lily’s direction, he was gone.

  Lily waited to hear the door close and then grabbed her glass, gulping a mouthful of wine. She gave herself a small shake, feeling well and truly rattled after that little encounter. If Jack Armstrong was a taste of what was to come, then the sooner she sold the shop and returned to Edinburgh the better.

  Chapter 4

  Lily was woken by a strangely heavy sensation on her chest. Her eyelids fluttered open to find a pair of jade-green eyes staring at her. She bolted upright with a shriek as a flash of black fur shot away in disgust, clearly not too pleased at the disruption. Feeling dazed, Lily perched on the edge of the sofa letting her heart rate settle as the room came into focus and her brain processed where she was and why a cat had been sitting on her.

  Last night she’d ended up putting on her PJs and settling herself on the sofa. She had briefly considered sleeping in her mother’s room but the truth was she’d been afraid, as if shadows and echoes from the past would come to haunt her. She doubted she’d get much sleep anyway so it didn’t really matter. Instead, Lily had unearthed a patchwork quilt that she remembered her mother, in a rare moment of domesticity, had made years ago and wrapped it around her body. As she had feared, sleep hadn’t come to her until the early hours when her body had finally given way to exhaustion.

  She hadn’t drawn the curtains last night and now early morning light trickled in through the window, the blue sky beyond promising a beautiful summer’s day to come. Under other circumstances she might have been full of energy, tempted to explore her surroundings. But today she felt shrouded in a sense of the past, of having to deal with things she didn’t want to.

  She supposed she’d better feed the cat, which was now sitting in front of the fire licking itself in unmentionable places. Lily grimaced, looking away. Rising gingerly from the sofa, she shuffled her way through to the kitchen where she successfully managed to locate two bowls, filling one with fresh water and the other with biscuits.

  With her cat duties out of the way, Lily’s thoughts turned to a hot shower although she wasn’t holding out much hope. In the bathroom she switched on the shower, waiting with trepidation. There was a good amount of clunking and clanking from the pipes as the system came to life but to her relief, hot water finall
y spluttered out. It worked far better than she’d dared hope and after standing under the spray of hot water for several minutes, she stepped out feeling sufficiently galvanised for the day ahead.

  Dressed in jeans and a soft grey jumper, she went about filling the kettle and finding a mug in the kitchen. She looked out of the window and down onto the back garden. It was more of a courtyard really, with wooden tubs full of colourful flowers sitting on paving stones and dark green ivy snaking its way along a trellised wall at the bottom.

  Recalling the taxi driver’s remarks from last night about the warm spell of weather, it was obvious from the vibrancy of the plants that someone had been watering them. Unless the cat man from last night had been watering the garden as well as feeding Misty, it must have been Iris. Big-hearted, kind Iris; Lily dreaded to think what she’d have done without her.

  She and her mother had been kindred spirits, their shared passion for the Edinburgh festival one of many things the two women had bonded over and every year they would go together to experience the exuberant chaos of the live acts and street performers.

  It had been last year on their annual pilgrimage to the festival when Patty had become unwell. Lily had been due to meet them for dinner later until Iris had rung to say Patty had been taken to hospital after collapsing. By the time Lily had reached the hospital, a cerebral aneurysm had already tipped her mother’s body into a coma.

  Lily had sat by her bed, somehow knowing her mother wouldn’t linger. Being prodded and poked by doctors and nurses in a hospital bed wasn’t her style at all. It wasn’t just the indignity of it, it was simply far too boring. She would have hated people to see her like that, to be surrounded by sadness and tears. Lily could almost hear her voice; ‘Must be going now, darling.’

  This way her body would never be ravaged by months of sickness and even with life ebbing away Patty still managed to radiate beauty. Her dark chestnut hair held a rich hue despite a sprinkling of grey. Lily had brushed it gently, willing her mother to open her eyes but they remained resolutely shut. Lily had watched her intently, breathing every breath with her.

  Theirs hadn’t been the easiest of relationships but Lily had loved her mother. Seeing her like this, when she was usually so full of life and energy, was the worst and most difficult thing she’d ever had to do and despite Iris being there, she’d never felt so alone.

  Lily had never met her father and knew little about him – only that he was French and part of a theatrical touring company in Edinburgh for the festival. According to her mother, Lily was the result of a passionate short-lived love affair. She didn’t talk about him much, but Lily suspected her free-spirited mother found it all quite romantic. But whatever romanticised notions she may have had, the reality was that Lily had been brought up alone by her mother so now she had no other family member to share the same grief.

  And so Lily had sat in the hospital holding her mother’s hand, talking quietly about anything and everything until finally there was nothing left to do except thank the hospital staff and be grateful that she’d been with her at the end.

  The world had suddenly felt a very different place; cold and dark. It didn’t seem right that everything should be going on as normal. Somehow, she’d stumbled her way through the next few days, Iris constantly by her side. Lily didn’t know how she’d have got through that time without her. She suddenly couldn’t wait to see her.

  It had taken Lily a while to calm down the night before after her unexpected visitor in the large, unsettling shape of Jack Armstrong. Not sure why it had irked her so much, she’d replayed their conversation over in her head, hoping but failing to see it in a more positive light. Eventually she’d given up and turned her attention to phoning Iris.

  Lily hadn’t told her in advance she was coming for the simple reason she feared she would change her mind at the last minute. After receiving a mild scolding for not telling her, Lily had to stop Iris coming round there and then. Instead, Iris told her she’d be there this morning.

  Aware she’d be arriving soon, Lily finished making her coffee and carefully negotiated her way down the staircase, passing the door to her mother’s bedroom. Sorting through her mother’s personal things was for another day. She’d need a mountain of courage for that which she simply didn’t have, at least not yet.

  She stopped for a few seconds before entering the shop, filled with a sudden apprehension. Taking a deep breath and mentally squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped into the shop.

  Bright daylight poured in through the windows as if to welcome her in so that instead of the cold emptiness she’d braced herself for, she experienced an unexpected warmth. The air was a little musty and a fine film of dust coated the surfaces but it could have been much worse considering the shop had been empty for all these months. Despite the slightly neglected air, there was something immediately appealing about the shop. Leaving her mug on the wooden counter Lily crossed the floor to the large front windows where outside people were wandering along the main street, the sparkling loch providing the perfect backdrop. She savoured the view for as long as she dared and then, worried she might be seen, turned away from the window to survey the shop.

  The black and white tiled flooring was in need of a good clean, but complemented the pale green walls perfectly. Rows of wooden shelves lined one of the walls while an old distressed dresser formed the focal point of another. There were a couple of freestanding display cabinets, and stacked rather precariously in one corner was a pile of cardboard boxes and a mound of various parcels and packages which, by the looks of things, remained unopened.

  A friendly looking old-fashioned till sat on the counter and Lily ran her hand over the cool metal wondering where her mother had unearthed it from or if it had always been there. She couldn’t help smiling when she saw a messy pile of papers and a couple of notebooks scattered about behind the counter – her mother was never one for orderly piles. But there were also sheets of coloured tissue paper, boxes and bags in different shapes and sizes and pretty swathes of ribbon, ready for gift wrapping.

  As she moved around, Lily was unexpectedly comforted by how much she could feel her mother’s presence. How easily she was able to picture her here, floating about in one of her quirky ensembles with clashing colours and patterns that she somehow always managed to make look stylish.

  Lily gave herself a small shake. A plan, that’s what she needed. Organisation was her first, last and middle name. Thinking about where to start first, she swallowed the last mouthful of her coffee just as she heard the sound of a key in the side door and then Iris’s voice drifting through from the hall.

  ‘Lily?’

  ‘Through here,’ she called, rushing to meet her. And then suddenly, Iris’s kind face was there in front of her.

  ‘Iris.’ It came as a half-sob.

  ‘Come here,’ Iris soothed, dropping a massive yellow canvas bag onto the floor and wrapping Lily in a warm hug.

  Until that moment Lily hadn’t realised how much she’d been holding herself back, how uptight she was. Iris eventually released her, holding her at arm’s length with an appraising look. ‘Goodness, there’s a lot of tension in you.’

  It was true, she had a knot of tension the size of a small boulder between her shoulder blades that seemed to have lodged itself there recently. ‘I’m fine,’ Lily assured with a watery smile.

  ‘Hmm, perhaps you’ve arrived just in time,’ Iris said, sounding rather enigmatic as she picked up her bag and followed Lily through to the shop.

  Lily looked at Iris affectionately, marvelling at how she never seemed to age. It occurred to her she didn’t know exactly old how Iris was, but it seemed somehow irrelevant because she never changed. Her blue eyes were as vibrant as ever and she still wore armfuls of bangles, her hennaed hair styled in a loose bun, her smile never far away.

  She still lived in the same cottage near the caravan park where they’d first met her all those years ago. She’d been a music teacher before ret
iring, travelling throughout the Highlands and Islands to different schools. She’d been married two – or was it three – times but had never had children of her own.

  She had been more of a permanent fixture in Lily’s life then her own grandparents whose strained relationship with their only child meant she’d seen more of Iris over the years than she had of them. Lily felt a rush of emotion for her. ‘I’m so sorry I haven’t been before. Leaving you to deal with all this.’

  Iris waved away her apology. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. Patty was my friend, of course I wanted to help any way I could. Besides, I didn’t do much. Just a bit of dusting and tidying.’ She paused, taking Lily’s hand. ‘I have the ashes at home with me, I didn’t want to leave them here. So, whenever you think the time is right we can take them to the loch.’

  Lily nodded mutely, blinking away the sudden tears clouding her eyes. She knew it was something that had to be done but it wasn’t something she could easily contemplate at that very moment.

  Iris continued. ‘I left her bedroom for you, all her personal bits and pieces are there. I know it’s going to be difficult for you but its part of the healing process. A stage of mourning and letting go that you have to go through but once it’s done I think you’ll find it will help you.’

  Lily remained silent as Iris carried on, her voice brighter. ‘I knew you’d come when the time was right. Did you finally take some holidays?’

  ‘A bit more than a holiday. I was made redundant.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘I certainly didn’t see it coming,’ Lily said sagely, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. The last thing she wanted was to unload her woes onto Iris. She’d already done enough without having to provide a shoulder for Lily to cry on.