Page 13 of Knots About You
When I rose to leave, Eilidh slid a pink paper bag across the table. ‘A cinnamon bun for later. And a loyalty card. Ten coffees and I’ll admit I like you.’
‘She’ll admit it after two,’ Morag said.
Alastair folded his paper at last and met my eyes over the top of his specs. With a nod, he sent me on my way.
six
OWEN
My first tourof the day stood in an awkward little clump, looking somewhat terrified of me. Was it my height or the fact that I wore a kilt? I swore my knees being visible made some people baulk.
Tours varied greatly. Sometimes fellow Scots, sometimes English, who have popped up for a visit. Very often, people from much further afield. Rarely was there a dull day.
I ran through the usual spiel as the group followed me through the distillery like a lost sheep. A warm welcome, then a short safety spiel and a neat version of the family history. Sanitised to sound idyllic. Mum had always told Isla and me that we are selling a dream, and whisky, not the ins and outs of our lives.
The pipes ticked, gleaming copper and radiating heat. A sweet, grainy aroma enveloped us, and several members of the group visibly relaxed, soft smiles spreading over their faces.
Laughter broke out at the same jokes I told morning after morning as I led them through the tour accessible section of the distillery. From mash to the stills, right through to bottling.
I knew my spiel by rote, well enough to let my mind wander to a pretty redhead wearing my jumper. The dusting of freckles that had plagued me since the moment I’d seen them.
You can’t fall for a tourist. She’ll leave you.
Finally, we arrived at the tasting room, everyone’s favourite part of the tour. I set out three pours: a five, a twenty, and a fifty-year aged whisky. It was often the only way people would experience the most expensive of our whiskies—just a tiny nip of the finest amber you can buy.
Someone asked if it was true that we had a guard cat.
‘We do indeed, but he’s more of a mouser than a guard. And isn’t keen on an audience.’
Right on cue, Inspector Meowrse appeared in the doorway and stared at the group for a few moments before turning tail.
When the glasses were empty, I pointed everyone to the gift shop, cleverly situated in front of the exit. When the door swung shut, I relaxed against one of the barrels that acted as a table top. The peace was soon broken when Isla barged through the service door, eyes glittering with trouble.
‘You didn’t answer your phone,’ she said.
‘Tours,’ I gathered up the whisky glasses and moved them through to the kitchen area for cleaning. Isla bounced along behind me, clearly desperate to chat. ‘What’s up with you?’
‘The rumour mill is going ten to the dozen.’ She hopped up onto one of the counters and stared at me. ‘I’ve heard three versions of the same story since nine o’clock, and all of them involve you and a red-headed English woman in a huge jumper. Please tell me that I’m finally getting a sister-in-law?’
The glasses chinked as I positioned them in the dishwasher. ‘It was raining. She needed shelter. I just did what anyone would have done.’
‘Anyoneelsewould not have ironed her clothes before eight in the morning.’ Isla gave me a knowing grin. ‘Before you deny it, Eilidh says you were in buying a muffin in the morning and that’s practically a sign worthy event for you. Not to mention Morag claims Alastair gave the girl a nod. A nod.From Alistair.’
‘Morag is an old gossip. She thinks she knows far more than she does. And Ialwaysiron my washing. Would you rather I left her sobbing in the barrel store?’
‘Well, no. Obviously not. But I also heard that Claire, it’s Claire, right? I heard that she said she likes the way you roll the R in her name.’ Isla lifted her eyebrow as though she’d stumbled upon some grand secret.
I couldn’t fight the flicker of heat in my stomach. Claire said that? In public? Damn. I’d have to find the most R-filled sentence I could the next time I saw her. Still, Isla didn’t need to know that.
‘I was just being neighbourly,’ I said.
Isla studied me. ‘Is that all?’
‘Yes.’
Isla’s grin softened. ‘I’m glad you helped her.’
‘Now.’ She sat up straight, rolling off the rumour mill and straight into business. ‘We need to talk about the Autumn fair. There are whispers about a couple of food and drink influencers descending, as well as a photographer from Cosy Country magazine. We need to nail it.’
