Page 64 of Highland Getaway
‘Youdohave friends,’ I tell her, touching her softly on the arm. ‘You have us. Well,me, anyway. I don’t care if you start talking about .?.?. about massacres, or Hansel and Gretel, or whatever. Seriously. Be as awkward as you like; I can guarantee I’ve done worse myself. But you can’t go around saying the Laird is dead, though,’ I add gently. ‘And you definitely can’t go around suggesting the handyman killed him.’
‘What?’
Izzie’s head pops out of the tent door, her eyes ringed with sparkly blue eyeliner, and surrounded by glittery, press-on stars. After a second, Millie’s surprised face appears beside her – also decorated with stars, for some reason.
‘The Laird’sdead?’ Izzie says, in a voice that somehow seems to echo across the little square, cutting through the music and laughter.
‘And Hunter Stuartkilledhim?’ adds Millie, even louder.
‘No! No, that’s not what I said,’ I begin, but it’s too late: Izzie’s eyes have gone round with horror, and as I watch, she reaches out a bony finger and points it at someone behind me; someone I know without even having to turn around can only be Hunter Stuart himself.
Chapter 25
‘MURDERER!’ screams Izzie, although she only gets as far as ‘murd—’ before Yasmin leaps forward and clamps a hand over her mouth to stop her. There’s a short scuffle as Izzie tries to bite her hand and Yasmin drops what’s left of her toffee apple on the ground, but eventually Izzie quietens down, leaving me free to face Hunter.
‘So. I’m a murderer now, am I?’ he says in a conversational tone that’s completely at odds with the fierce look in his eye, and the defensive stance he’s adopted. ‘Anyone care to explain who I’m supposed to have murdered? Rosie?’
‘But Rosie’s still alive,’ says Millie, frowning. ‘That’s her right there. How could you have murderedRosie?’
‘He hasn’t murdered anyone,’ I say, my chest tightening uncomfortably at the sight of Hunter’s tense expression. ‘No one has. At least, not as far as I know. This is just a misunderstanding, that’s all. You misheard us, Izzie.’
‘No, she didn’t,’ replies Millie. ‘I heard you too. I was in there having my palm read – I’m going to meet a tall, dark stranger soon, apparently. Exciting! – and I heard you say something about Hunter killing the Laird, Rosie.’
‘And something about Hansel and Gretel,’ adds Izzie, who’s managed to wrestle her way out of Yasmin’s grasp. ‘But I didn’t quite catch that bit.’
Hunter lets out a sharp, humourless laugh, his eyes filled with hurt as they find mine.
‘Well, this is fascinating,’ he says. ‘I’m not just a murderer, I’ve apparently found my way into a fairy story, too.’
‘Oh, “Hansel and Gretel” is no fairy story, trust me,’ mutters Izzie darkly, but Hunter wisely ignores her.
‘Do I at least get to know how I’m supposed to have committed this crime?’ he asks, addressing the rest of us. ‘Poisoned turnip, perhaps? Lead pipe in the drawing room? Or is there something even more fantastical I could possibly be accused of?’
‘No one’s accusing you of anything,’ I say firmly. ‘Like I said, this is just a stupid misunderstanding, and we’ve cleared it up now. Haven’t we, Yasmin?’
I stare at her meaningfully, trying to communicate that if ever there was a time for her to speak up, this would be it.
‘Well, whatever it is, I’ve had more than enough of it,’ says Hunter, in a tone that suggests he’s had enough of all of us – me included. ‘I need to go and collect my daughter from the ghost train. I’ll leave you lot to your scurrilous gossip.’
He attempts to turn and storm off, but Yasmin darts forward to stop him, finally getting the message I’ve been trying to send her with my eyes.
‘This is all my fault,’ she says, grabbing his arm. ‘I was the one who said you might be a murderer. Rosie was just defending you. She said there was no way you’d murder a defenceless old man. She said you were a good man, and she didn’t say you were hot, but I could tell she was thinking it. Sorry,’ she adds, glancing at me. ‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’
‘I .?.?. um. Ididsay he wouldn’t kill anyone,’ I begin. ‘Although not in thoseexactwords, Yasmin.’
‘Please don’t be angry with Rosie,’ she tells Hunter. ‘She didn’t do anything wrong. She was being a good friend to you, actually. You should be thanking her.’
She lets his arm go and stares up at him challengingly. This is definitely the longest speech I’ve ever heard her make, and I’m starting to wonder what, exactly, I’ve unleashed by telling her I’ll be her friend.
There’s a short silence, broken only by the sound of Millie scrabbling around on the ground for the dropped toffee apple.
‘I really need to go and get Hannah,’ Hunter says, clearly relieved to have an excuse to get away from us all. ‘I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her. Are you coming?’
It takes me a few seconds to realise the last sentence is directed at me and, by the time I do, he’s already striding off across the square to where a little ghost train ride has been set up, a small crowd of parents standing patiently outside it, waiting for their offspring to emerge.
‘Look,’ I say, catching up with him. ‘I’m really sorry about . . . that. It wasn’t what you’re thinking. Well, I mean, it probablywaswhat you’re thinking, if what you’re thinking is that I’m an idiot who keeps getting herself into trouble. But I wasn’t—’
There was something else I was planning to say to him, I’m sure of it. But every word I’ve ever known goes flying out of my head as Hunter stops and turns to face me, and now all I can think about is the way his lips are turning up ever so slightly at the edges, and how Yasmin was absolutely right when she said I think he’s hot.
