Juliette wasn’t sure what she would find in Glentorrin but now that it was feeling a little more real her stomach knotted with excitement. It was a good sensation and one she hadn’t felt since before Laurie had died.
* * *
The following Friday was supposed to be Millie and Juliette’sgirls’night. Of course, Dexter, being at a loose end since his split from his girlfriend of two years, had managed to muscle his way in and the three of them sat round the laptop at the kitchen table, searching the internet for suitable accommodation on Skye whilst eating snacks and drinking wine.
Eventually, Juliette gave an exasperated sigh. ‘It’s no use. There’s nothing in Glentorrin, or anywhere close to it, that’s available for a long enough period. Well, nothing that I can afford anyway.’ She huffed and folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child. ‘I’ll have to rethink the whole thing.’ Devastated didn’t cover it. She’d geared herself up to go away. The management team at work had approved it. Her friends and family supported her. But it was all a moot point now.
‘Erm… Jettie, what about a working holiday?’ Dexter asked as he stared at the screen on his phone. The pet name he called her had stuck since they were tiny and he couldn’t pronounce his new baby sister’s name.
Juliette scrunched her brow. ‘I hadn’t really thought about aworkingholiday. Why? What have you found?’
‘Millie, search up Skye Jobs dot com,’ he instructed, and Millie typed the address into the search engine on the laptop. ‘Now, click on the one that says Lifeboat House Museum.’ Again, she did as requested.
Juliette’s interest was piqued. ‘Museum? What’s that all about?’
Dexter nudged her. ‘Well, sis, they’re these places where people go to find out things.’ He guffawed at his own joke.
Juliette whacked him, almost knocking him from his chair to a loud ‘Oi!’
‘Seriously, what does it say, Millie?’ Juliette asked, curious.
Millie leaned towards the screen, cleared her throat and began, ‘Glentorrin Lifeboat House Museum is currently seeking a volunteer to oversee the running of the establishment for a period of three months. This will take place from the first of July and will finish at the close of the season on the thirtieth of September. The museum houses a unique collection of artefacts not only connected to the old lifeboat and its crew but also about Glentorrin and the wider areas of Skye. Accommodation will be provided, and utilities are included. Please note, however, this is an unsalaried position, suitable for a retiree or someone with the freedom to relocate to the village for the period of cover. An interest in history is essential and willingness to learn about the artefacts is a must. Application by emailed CV with a covering letter. Interviews to be held via telephone. All necessary checks will be carried out.’
It sounded wonderful, but Juliette was pretty sure she had no chance. ‘They’ll fill that locally. Why would they accept someone from so far away?’
Dexter pondered her words for a moment. ‘Actually, they maybe won’t get anyone close by who’s willing to work for nothing. It’s a big ask in today’s economic climate.’
Juliette scrunched her brow. ‘No, I reckon someone will jump at the opportunity.’
Millie, who had been silent since she finished reading the job ad, swivelled in her chair. ‘Actually, Dexter might have a point. And you could always apply. Nothing to lose really. And maybe he could stay here while you’re away?’ she shrugged.
Juliette thought about it for a moment. ‘What do you think, Dex? Fancy a change of scenery?’
‘Hell, yes. It’ll be nice to live alone for a while. Living with Buzz is okay, but he has no concept of personal hygiene.’ He held his nose as if to emphasise his point. Jacob ‘Buzz’ Busby, Dexter’s friend and colleague at the garage, had taken him in a month before as a lodger after he split from his girlfriend.
Juliette felt butterflies of excitement come to life in her belly. ‘Okay. Why not? Go and open another bottle of vino while I email them.’
Twenty minutes later, and with Dexter reading her email over her shoulder, Juliette hit ‘send’ on her application.
‘Well, that’s it. Just a waiting game now.’ Juliette was already prepared to carry out more searches the following day, certain in her assumption that she would receive a ‘thanks but no thanks’ response.
* * *
The following morning, Juliette was rudely woken by her landline. Her head was fuzzy, thanks to the copious amounts of wine she had drunk the night before, and her mouth tasted rancid, as if she had been licking dustbins. Not that she knew what thatactuallytasted like, but she guessed it was pretty close.
She expected to hear her brother’s voice when she reached to the bedside table and lifted the receiver. ‘It’s Saturday, you know, dingbat. I like to sleep in sometimes.’
‘Oh, my apologies, I can call back later,’ an unfamiliar male voice replied.
Juliette sat bolt upright, sending the room into a three-sixty-degree spin that caused her to close her eyes immediately. ‘I’msosorry. I thought you were my brother. Who’s calling?’
‘This is Reid MacKinnon. I’m wanting to speak to Juliette Fairhurst.’ He had a lovely, lilting Scottish accent and a deep gruff tone to his voice.
‘S-speaking. I mean, yes, this is she. How can I help?’
‘Good. Good. I’m on the board for the Lifeboat House Museum on Skye. You emailed an application last night?’ he replied as if she should have automaticallyknownit was him calling.
‘Oh, gosh, yes. Hello. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting to hear anything so soon.’
