Page 48 of Scotch on the Rocks

“After today I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” He gave me a small smile that made my chest ache. The same smile from this morning that accompanied,BecauseI know you, Juniper.

I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Is … is everything all right?”

I didn’t reach for the chocolate, just returned to leafing through the stack of papers without reading. The wordscould have been written in hieroglyphics; I wouldn’t have noticed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, you usually greet me with ‘Fuck off, Macabe.’”

“You’re doing me a favour so I’m being nice.”

“This isnice?” He hooted. Would it kill him not to sound so surprised? He made me sound like a bridge troll.

“Yes.” I exhaled the word through my teeth, no doubt aggravating my TMJ disorder. “I’m being downright pleasant.”

“Lucky me.” His knuckles rapped once on the wood, timing the action perfectly with his signature wink, then backed away. He clearly didn’t expect me to watch his retreat because his demeanour shifted the instant he hit the stairs, shoulders drooping, head hanging like a puppet with its strings cut. I thought again of the dark circles beneath his eyes and wondered if I wasn’t the only one who’d learned the art of pretending.

13

Callum

Heather: Free for dinner tonight? The girls miss you.

Callum: Can’t. I’m helping at Ivy House.

Heather: I knew June would come around.

Heather: Be nice to her! She doesn’t appreciate your brand of humour.

Callum: My brand of humour?

Mal: That’s our baby sister’s nice way of saying, “you aren’t as funny as you think you are.”

Heather: It’s an acquired taste.

Mal: Like Irish whisky.

Callum: Remind me again why I begged Mum and Dad for more siblings?

Alistair: What happened at Ivy House?

An hour later and feeling every one of my thirty-nine years, I accepted I needed Juniper’s help. Trudging to the stairs with all the energy of a North Pole elf come Christmas Eve.

The changes from my last visit told me Juniper had been putting in as many hours as me. All the furniture had beencleared and the old tartan wallpaper stripped. Between that and running the inn, when did she find time to sleep?

“Nothing you can do unless she asks for help,” I reminded myself, checking my watch as I hit the small landing between floors. Seven thirty. More than enough time to finish here, check in with Mum and make it home for a quick dinner before bed. I might even get that elusive eight hours.

I found Juniper exactly where I left her. Phone pressed to her ear, bare toes just visible where she’d kicked her heels aside –damn those elegant little toes. Feet usually freaked me out, but Juniper’s were just as perfect as the rest of her. Her tongue traced along her lower lip as she listened to the person on the line, a nervous gesture she made often but couldn’t have been aware of because she’d have found a way to master it.

“Yes, I’m prepared for the food delivery – because it’s the same day every week—”A muffle cut her off. “You’re on holiday, why are you logging into the booking system at all?”

Her mum, I realised, pausing curiously on the bottom step.

“Well don’t – everything is fine, go to the beach and have a cocktail or something.Bye, Fiona –aye, bye!”

The heels of her hands pressed into her eyelids, and I cleared my throat. “Who was that?”

“Shit… how the hell do you do that?”

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