Tangled Threads by Caroline Corvin

Author:Caroline Corvin [Caroline Corvin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grenwyvern Publishing
Published: 2022-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Meet the MacLeods

Kate wiggled into a clean pair of jeans, added a plush plum-coloured merino jumper and finished with possum fur-lined boots. She’d never needed anything resembling proper winter clothes in Auckland’s mild climate, but had wisely packed plenty for the Scottish winter. Just as well, because outside snow was now falling in steady flurries, laying a delicate yet chilly blanket over the last resting place of the old ones of Ballenaig, who slept peacefully in the kirkyard across the road. She wondered if the coat, scarf and hat might be overkill for the short walk, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She wasn’t fond of the cold.

“They say it’ll be at least minus five tonight,” he said.

“Hmm, I’m definitely not overdressed then. So what on earth is a Tappit Hen?” They were strolling down Kirk Street towards the establishment in question. “I’ve heard some strange names for pubs before, but not that one.”

Alex laughed. “Well, back in the 17th century, it’s what you would have drunk your ale from. One of those fancy pewter drinking jugs with a lid topped with a topknot, like a wee crested hen. A ‘topped hen’, so to speak.”

“Oh,” she replied, curiosity satisfied. “Well, that doesn’t sound quite so weird now I know.”

The Tappit Hen nested inside a much larger, bland white building. Its frontage glowed deep cherry red. Carriage lamps flanked two large lacey-patterned bay windows. Floral stained glass looked down from above and window boxes with an abundance of greenery overflowed below. The establishment shouted out its name in bold brass letters over the door, amplified by ornate painted flourishes on either side. The lights inside beckoned, large shining golden orbs giving an impression of wide, kind eyes and holding out the promise of warmth.

Inside, once her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Kate saw a welcoming interior common to many British pubs - lots of wood grain polished till you could almost see your face in it, a mirrored wall behind the bar reflecting a rainbow of bottles and gleaming glassware, a blazing fire encouraging her to discard her outer layers, and deep red leather booths that extended a comfortable invitation.

“There they are.” Alex nodded towards one of the largest booths. As she followed his gaze, a flurry of smiles and friendly waves met her. She smiled back, mentally doing a quick run through of Alex’s earlier briefing on his siblings.

“Now Sarah’s extremely bossy. Not her fault. Being the eldest, there was always an expectation she’d keep us in line. A difficult job. She can come across a bit abrupt, shades of Dad there.”

Yes, she could see Sarah trying to check her out without making it obvious.

“Robbie’s your typical gentle giant. He was the best big brother a kid could have. Bullies took one look at him and ran. But he’s a softie. Do anything for you.”

Well, he was easy to spot. The largest man in the bar.

“Andy doesn’t say much. But don’t think that means he doesn’t like you. He’s like that with everyone.

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