Logan came in and stood beside her. ‘All good? What do you think? Do you think you’ll be okay here? I thought you’d prefer it to being at the house.’
‘Will I be okay? Oh, wait, I’ll just think about that. I love it, duh.’
Logan looked relieved. ‘I thought you might like it.’
Cally turned, plonked herself down, and sank into one of the overstuffed armchairs. 'It’s so cosy and, I don’t know, rich and warm at the same time. Like being wrapped in a hug or something. It’s just so… what is the word? Comfy. Quiet too.’ She pointed to the bookshelves lining the walls, the stacks of magazines, and neat rows of old encyclopaedias. 'I could just stay right here all weekend and read. I don’t even need to go out.’
Logan nodded. ‘I think some of those have been in the family for generations.’
‘I bet.’
Logan moved towards the door. 'Tea? I'll put the kettle on.'
‘I’d love one. I need a cup of tea after that long journey. I don’t want to move from this chair, though. It’s so cosy in here.'
As Logan disappeared into the kitchen, Cally took in every inch around her – the gorgeous tartan wallpaper, the little details here and there, and the lovely throws neatly folded on the backs of the chairs. The sound, or lack thereof of the place, as if somehow the room was insulated from the real world. The old clock on the mantelpiece ticked away to itself, about the only sound she could hear.
A few minutes later, Logan returned with a tray with two mugs, a steaming teapot, and a plate piled with what looked like homemade shortbread. He popped the tray down on the coffee table, and Cally leant forward and raised her eyebrows. ‘Just what I need.’
'A proper Scottish welcome for you.'
Cally inhaled the buttery scent of the shortbread. Her mouth watered. 'Ooh, I love shortbread. Homemade?’
Logan poured the tea. 'Mrs MacPherson, the housekeeper, made it according to the note out there. It's her speciality – an old family recipe, apparently.'
Cally took a sip of tea. 'Ahh. Tea, shortbread, and feet up. We’ll just stay put here for the whole weekend, eh? You can serve me shortbread for breakfast, lunch and dinner.’
Logan eyerolled. ‘No such luck. We have the family dinner tomorrow night and various other things to go to. A family trip to the pub is always on the cards. What else do you fancy doing?’
'Ha, not much. I could sit right here and do nothing but stuff my face with shortbread, get cosy under a tartan rug and read all day long.’
‘Works for me.’
‘Joking. I'd love to explore. It looks absolutely stunning out there. What’s the weather forecast for tomorrow?’
‘Good, I think. We could pack a picnic and make a day of it if you like.’
‘I don’t mind, really. Up to you.' Cally smiled, reached for a piece of shortbread, took a bite and widened her eyes in surprise. 'Oh my goodness, this is amazing. I might need Mrs MacPherson's recipe before we leave.'
Logan laughed. 'Good luck with that. Her recipes are guarded as if they’re state secrets.’
Cally sat back in the chair and sipped her tea. ‘So, what sort of wildlife might we see?’
'There are deer in the hills, and as I said, if we're lucky, we might see some eagles. They nest in the crags up there. Otters, red squirrels in the woods.'
'It all sounds so magical. It’smuchbetter than I thought it was going to be. You really undersold this “cottage” as you call it. Logan, it’s justsonice.'
Logan took another piece of shortbread. 'I was a bit worried you might find it all a bit, well, remote and boring. It's quite different from Lovely Bay.'
Cally shook her head emphatically. 'It's like stepping into another world. A quieter, wilder world.'
‘You wait until we go walking.’
‘It feels restorative already, or am I just imagining it? Do I sound odd? It’s just much, much better than I thought it was going to be.'
Logan nodded. ‘Yup. That's why I love coming up here.’
Cally tucked her feet under her, leant forward, and took another slice of shortbread. ‘Hello to a weekend of relaxing. No work and no blasted chatbot customers. Hooray.’
