Isobel hadn’t been aware that she was holding her roiling stomach. She forced a smile. “I need to get you a book on pregnancy. You really don’t have a clue.”
“And I plan to keep it that way.” Mairi strode off down the hall to get Sophie.
It took a few more minutes to pack all the toys Sophie wanted to take to Mairi’s house, which meant they were running late by the time they left. As they turned into the road at the end of the lane, the women looked out over the water. The sky was a heavy grey that promised rain, and the wind had whipped up the waves. The smell of salt was thick in the air and the gulls circled overhead looking for food.
“Did they come back last night?” Mairi said.
Isobel’s grip on Sophie’s hand tightened at the thought of the boat visitors.
“I don’t think so. I don’t know. I was out cold for most of the night.”
Mairi’s eyebrows shot up. “With Mr Broodylicious on the sofa? I thought, at the very least, you’d be up all night fantasising about him.”
“Actually, it was the opposite. I was asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow. Not even an X-rated dream.”
“Well, that’s disappointing. Guess he must be rubbish in bed if he’s that easily dismissed.” She gave Isobel a hopeful look and waited for details.
Isobel didn’t give her any. The truth was that having Callum in the house made Isobel feel secure. She was used to being her small family’s last line of defence. For years she’d slept with one ear open, listening for problems and ready to deal with them. With Callum in the house, Isobel’s subconscious had decided he could take the watch for the night, and her exhausted body had slipped into a deep sleep. For one aching moment, when she awoke, she’d felt like she had a partner, and the weight of her family hadn’t been pressing down on her. And then reality had slammed into her, along with the cold awareness that she was on her own.
Isobel parted company with Mairi and Sophie outside of the village’s only shop. Sophie waved all the way across the road to the garage, where Agnes and Mairi shared the flat upstairs. The sight of her daughter’s wide smile and unique dress sense made Isobel grin. Her daughter was wearing a cheap princess dress, fairy wings, gumboots and a woolly hat.
As soon as they were out of sight, Isobel entered the shop, the chirpy bell signalling her arrival. Her late arrival.
“Nice of you to bother turning up,” Edna McPhee said, as though Isobel was hours late instead of fifteen minutes.
“Sorry.” Isobel stashed her bag under the counter and pulled on the burgundy tabard that Edna insisted was the shop uniform. It didn’t matter that Isobel was her only employee and that Edna herself refused to wear the hideous polyester thing.
“Do you have a reason for being late?” Edna sounded exactly like a teacher Isobel had when she was in high school. She hadn’t liked that teacher any more than she liked Edna.
“Kid problems.” It was the only excuse she was willing to give.
Edna’s eyes became tiny dots under her heavily furrowed brow. “I knew I shouldn’t have hired a single mother.”
“Edna.” Isobel tried hard not to let her irritation show. “I’ve worked here for almost three years, and in that time, I haven’t missed a day. Not to mention, you can count the times I’ve been late on one hand.”
Edna sniffed and patted her bleached blonde hair, which accentuated the lines on her face. “There are shelves that need cleaning.” There would be no apology. There never was. No matter how many digs she made about Isobel’s kids, or the men in her life running out on her.
Isobel did what she normally did. She gritted her teeth, swallowed her pride and worked like a dog for minimum wage, all the while reminding herself that she was lucky to have a job so close to home. Lucky that her sister worked from home and could look after Sophie. Lucky that she could walk to work when she couldn’t afford to fill her car. Yeah, she was so freaking lucky.
“Did you hear about Janice and Clyde?” Edna pulled a bright pink lipstick from the drawer beside the cash register and touched up her already thickly made-up mouth.
“What about them?” Isobel gathered her cleaning supplies and started with the shelves nearest the counter—the ones stocked with chocolate and sweets. She knew from experience that Edna liked her to start her work where she could see her, so that she could give her advice on how to do it properly—while she flicked through magazines and fiddled with her hair. But, as owner of the place, Edna could, and did, do whatever the heck she pleased.
“They had someone sneaking around their property last night. Gave them the fright of their lives.”
Isobel stilled, her dust rag suspended in front of the shelf. Clyde and Janice were the elderly couple who lived on the bluff, along from Isobel’s house.
“Did they see who it was?” She tried hard not to let the fear she felt come through in her voice.
“No.” Edna leaned forward, folding her arms on the counter and leaning her sagging bosom on it. Although Isobel didn’t know Edna’s true age, she did know the woman was old enough to have the need of a decent bra. Unfortunately, this wasn’t something Edna knew. As far as she was concerned, the only thing of importance in buying a bra was that it showed enough cleavage. If that cleavage was around her waist, that was neither here nor there. “Whoever it was ran off when Clyde let the dog out. He said he shouted after one of them, but the blighter just legged it out of there.”
“That’s terrible.” Isobel made a big deal out of dusting every item she removed from the shelf. “Did they call the police?”
“No, they thought it was teenagers messing around. You know, like your boy Jack.”
Isobel ignored the snide comment as she tried to control her breathing. It couldn’t be a coincidence that her neighbours got a visit from someone right after she’d removed the body from the beach.
Edna had obviously lost patience while waiting for Isobel to react to her dig about Jack. “They should have called the police, because Marty Jackson told me that the Redfern family had someone try to break into their place last night too.”