Sealed With a Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

lunchtime the whole island will know you’ve got a cold.’
    Oh, help! Kate had envisioned a remote island paradise, albeit with pine trees instead of palms, where she could go to ground, wander around without bumping into anyone she knew, and work out
what to do with the rest of her life. Instead it looked as if she was going to be the talk of the town, just by virtue of having arrived here.
    ‘I’ll drive up the High Street first; that way you can have a wee look at the shops.’ Jean switched on the engine and started to drive at a pace slightly faster than a jog.
Kate looked around anxiously for an irate driver with road rage. ‘My niece Ellen says the shops here are terrible. She gets on the ferry on a Saturday morning at 6.30 a.m. to go down to
Glasgow. I couldn’t be bothered myself. There’s our supermarket – it’s lovely and new.’ Jean pointed at the squat, modern supermarket, which stood apart from the
splendid Victorian buildings of the High Street. Kate thought it was hideous, a bright scar amongst the tattered and faded shops with their peeling paint and sea-rusted signs.
    There was a fishmonger, a butcher and an old-fashioned greengrocer. The clothes shop had a window display that didn’t look as if it had altered since 1972. The windows were covered on the
inside with a thick, yellow-tinted transparent plastic, which curled at the edges. Behind it Kate could see faded boxes, and mannequins with thickly plastic wigs, wearing aprons and polyester
slacks. Terrifying, thought Kate, who had always thought she was pretty much impervious to fashion. Perhaps I’m going to be the height of sophistication here.
    And then they were out of the town of Kilmannan, and the road curved upwards through the rocky, heather-covered countryside. Sheep grazed along the roadside, pausing to chew the cud and stare as
the Land Rover trundled past, still travelling at about fifteen miles per hour. Kate felt her eyes prickle with sudden, unexpected tears. It was so wild and beautiful, and completely empty of
people or cars. They swept through the moorland, with Jean pointing out the occasional long, low white house: the old crofts.
    ‘It’s mainly incomers that live in them now, of course. Artists, and there’s a writer up there on the hill. Keeps herself to herself, mind you. There’s not many islanders
stay on here now. It’s a real shame.’ Jean shook her head. ‘Thank goodness Roderick is trying to make a go of the estate since his father died.’
    Kate allowed herself a little smile at the prospect of Roderick. He was clearly the apple of Jean’s eye, and she could just imagine him. Single, bedecked from head to toe in a hairy tweed
suit and green wellies, probably a bit podgy and balding. His car smelled of wet dog, and Jean had shifted a couple of magazines out of the way before she sat down. Kate glanced at the back seat to
see what they were:
The Scottish Farmer
and
The Field
. Not much chance of discussing the latest goings-on in
EastEnders
over a cup of tea with her new boss then.
    The car rose out of a dip in the road and crested a hill.
    ‘Oh my God!’
    Jean stopped the car in the middle of the road. She switched off the engine, turning to her left and facing Kate.
    ‘I’m so sorry!’ Kate had blurted out the words without thinking. She had read somewhere that many of the islanders were fervently religious. Wondering if she was about to be
ejected from the car for blasphemy, she sat frozen for a second.
    ‘Now, you can’t beat that, can you?’ smiled Jean.
    The scene was breathtaking. The low, setting sun was burnt across the sky, light reflecting off the sea and tinting the white sand of the deserted beach orange. Waves lapped at the shoreline
and, as Kate watched, a kestrel hovered overhead, pausing before shooting down towards its prey. On either side the hills rose, framing the picture.
    ‘We don’t have much in the way of shops and social life, but we have this to make up for