3
Caitlin stood at the doorway of the Crown Hotel, a white-painted, old coaching inn in the pretty village of Broadford that faced the blue waters of Broadford Bay. She had been there for a few minutes, trying to pluck up the courage to enter.
A few women arrived as a group, all heavily made up, and as they pushed through the door ahead of her, she fought the cough that almost erupted when a fog of myriad different perfumes assaulted her nasal passages. She momentarily wished she had convinced her friends to come along for moral support. Although if she had, who would have paid any attention to her, when one of her best friends, Ruby Locke, was a former Hollywood movie star?
At almost ten past seven, Caitlin smoothed down her pale blue, layered, Lagenlook top, that she had paired with summery, white linen trousers and sandals and took a deep breath. With her fingers wrapped around the handle, she was just about to push through the door, when it was yanked open from the inside. Unable to let go in time, she lurched forwards and landed, on all fours, in the middle of the well-trodden welcome mat. A collective gasp travelled the bar, and she closed her eyes, willing the floor to open up and suck her in. Alas, it didn’t happen, and she slowly raised her chin to find many piteous gazes fixed on her.
‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Here let me help you up!’ A hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her to a standing position. ‘Oh, Caitlin! It’s you. Are you all right? God, I’m so bloody sorry.’
Caitlin knew her face could have replaced the lighthouse at Neist Point, seeing as it was no doubt glowing with the embarrassment she felt. She glared up into the guilt-filled, brown eyes of the outdoor-wear shop owner – a friend of hers, from Glentorrin. ‘Bloody hell, Archie Sutherland! You should be more careful!’ she snapped.
He swallowed hard and frowned. ‘Aye, I’m really sorry. I was just heading to my car to get a pen.’ Caitlin realised he too was here for the singles event. He was quite a shy man really, kind of sweet though, around the same age as her, tall and broad-shouldered, a head full of shaggy, dark brown curls with a wee smattering of grey, and a constant five o’clock shadow. He was the type of rugged man thatotherwomen fawned over. He’d had a few girlfriends over the years, so seeing him here was indeed a surprise.
‘Well, don’t let me stop you.’ Caitlin immediately felt guilty for her terse response. It had been an accident after all. ‘Look, I’m sorry. My pride’s bruised that’s all.’
‘Aye and your lovely outfit is all dirty now,’ he said, pointing to her knees with a wince. ‘I really am sorry.’
She glanced down at the mucky patches of grey on her otherwise pristine trousers and gave a deep sigh. ‘I think I’ll just go home,’ she said as she made to turn around.
‘No! Don’t do that. Let me get you a drink, eh? It’s the least I can do.’ Archie’s gaze was filled with apology, and she crumbled.
‘Okay, thanks. Just a J2O though. I’m driving,’ she told him.
‘Okay, go grab a table and I’ll bring it over. Do you need ice for your knees?’
She gave a light laugh. ‘No, thank you, I’m good.’Although a cold compress for my ego wouldn’t hurt.
‘Aye, right. Back in a sec.’ Archie turned and narrowly avoided a collision with a huge, rugby player type who could’ve launched him like a hammer, and Caitlin held her breath, hoping that a fight didn’t break out. When it didn’t, she heaved a relieved sigh and watched Archie hold up his hands in another apology, then make a quick detour to chat to a woman at a table across the room. The blonde was waving a pen around and he took it and scribbled something – probably his phone number – on a scrap of paper before he headed to the bar. He’s a fast worker, she mused.
Caitlin glanced down and groaned. She rubbed at the dirt on her knees, but it was an exercise in futility. There was nothing else for it, she would simply need to remain seated for the rest of the night – and when she thought about the rest of the night, she intended that it would end, for her at least, at around seven-forty-five. This was a huge mistake.
Archie returned and placed a glass of orange-coloured juice before her. ‘Passion fruit and mango, is that okay?’
She nodded and took a sip. ‘Perfect, thanks.’
He frowned at her. ‘You do know it’s singles night tonight, don’t you?’
She refrained from making a snide comment, even though one was biting at the tip of her tongue. ‘Yes, of course.’ She laughed and shook her head. Why else would she have walked into a pub she didn’t really know, all alone? In spite of her outward show of confidence, she wasn’t the type to do that. Popping into the Coxswain in Glentorrin was an entirely different thing of course. She virtually knew everyone who frequented the place.
Archie nodded. ‘Oh, right, right. That’s good then. I just wasn’t sure this night would be… you know… specific enough for you.’
Confused as to his meaning, she pursed her lips for a moment and frowned. ‘Specific?’
Archie nodded. ‘Aye, with you having… how do I put it? Singular tastes.’
Caitlin laughed. ‘Singular tastes? Is that what they’re callingoverly pickythese days?’
Archie glanced around and then leaned in to whisper, ‘No, I mean with you being into… you know… women.’
Caitlin raised her eyebrows and gasped. ‘Sorry?’
Archie whispered again, conspiratorially this time. ‘With you being a lesbian.’ He almost mouthed the word, rather than saying it out loud.
Caitlin scowled. ‘You think I’m gay?’ she said rather too loudly, causing many eyes to turn in her direction for the second time that evening.
A look of confusion washed over Archie’s face and his cheeks flushed. ‘Wait… Are you not gay then?’
Caitlin rolled her eyes. ‘No! I’m not!’ she hissed. ‘Why did you think I was gay? Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. Not in the slightest. But again, what made you think that about me?’
