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“So, what do you think of old man Croon taking a header off the Point yesterday?” Ross asked as he lounged back in his favorite chair, at his favourite table; from where he could eye the whole room for potential victims of his charms, no doubt, and keep an eye on Moira.

Another day – another dollar, and that was if the tourists came in. Right now, Ross was back for his breakfast, and he’d brought Jamie with him for company, which pleased me no end as Jamie and I had dated all the way through school. Not that I could ever get away from Jamie unless one of us left Skye, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

Now, on an island like this; it’s common practice for parents to sort of match their children up before they were even born and hope for the right sex when the children were actually spat out. Jamie had kind-of been spoken for with Florie McPhee, but he didn’t like her, he liked me, and that caused some unrest and tongues to start wagging.

Still, after four years of sweetheart dating, Jamie and I had separated under circumstances that shall remain unspoken about – namely; the toad decided that he was going to sneak Mary the skinny troll into the backseat of his car and have his wicked way with her – but my lips are sealed, and so were Mary’s for about a month when I spelled her with tonsillitis and the flu.

I had tried to give her a mild dose of the plague but was interrupted in my spell-craft by my nosy sister, Eileen, who ran snitching to our father. For which she got a nice dose of the chickenpox the week after.

But, I’ll swear to this day that it was happenchance if anyone were silly enough to bring the whole subject up.

“Such tact,” I offered to Ross, and the man had the audacity to tip his head to one side and offer me a knowing smirk.

“Like you’re so tactful, Maggie McFae,” he offered back, and I knew he had a million and one stories to tell of my past transgressions, as childhood friends always did.

“Moving on, MacNabbie,” I offered back, daring him to start with me in my own Bistro. “She might control the flow of cookies, but I bake them,” I warned him, and for once the man took heed.

“Moving on indeed, Maggie.” He grinned, and those eyes of his sparkled like he had a secret or two to tell.

I flicked my eyes towards Jamie and the man practically coward where he sat. I could smell fear a mile away, like a lioness going in for the kill, and it was also written all over his face.

Oh, he’d been telling tales out of school alright!

“So…” Ross started, but I held up a hand, and on that hand was my pointy index finger.

“Hold that thought.” I slowly let my eyes wander all over Jamie’s bright red face. He grimaced – ha! I knew that grimace. “Yooooou!” I gave him my best accusing tone and the man practically crumpled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maggie McFae, nothing has passed these lips,” Jamie offered fast – too fast – and, oh yes, they were nice full and very kissable lips, but that was in the past, and this was now, and the roach had been blabbing!

Now the reason that Jamie was so squirmy wasn’t that he feared a tongue lashing from me, although, I have to admit, it could be sharp and pointy when people annoyed me. Oh no; it was because he knew what my pointy index finger could do.

You see, I’d been smitten enough with the man to share my witchy secret, and of course, he’d thought I was lying, which had annoyed me, so I had to prove my point and show him what I could do. Oh, that little snake in the grass!

“Tell her, Ross.” He used his elbow to nudge his thick-as-thieves best friend, and Ross brought his eyes to mine. Sure enough, they were dancing with mischief and amusement.

“Tell her what, man?” Ross offered back, not quite as innocently as he might have hoped for.

Oh yes, I’m still smelling fear from Jamie, but I’m scenting bull in the air too from the pair of them.

“Tell her that I said nothing when I said about us.” Jamie balked at his best friend’s attempt to drop him in the coo do-do.

A coo, if you didn’t know, is a Highland Cow, a big, shaggy, good looking, cutesy of a beast, and they are allegedly all named Angus.

“I’m confused by that statement, Jamie. Nothing, implies nothing to tell, and yet, you said that you’d said nothing – when quite obviously, you’d said that you said about us – and would that be us as in me and you, us, or us as in you and her, us?”

Ross certainly was enjoying himself at Jamie’s expense. In a way, so was I. I’m not entirely sure if Jamie looked more like a swiveled eyed loon or a constipated Coo, but it was amusing to watch.

“Have you been on the sash, man? Drunk at this hour, you’re making little sense,” Jamie shot back.

“Little sense, or no sense, Jamie?” Ross shot back.

I took more pleasure in watching Jamie squirm like a worm on a hook, as his best friend ran rings around him. Ah, Ross did have his moments.

“I …” Jamie’s eyes flicked back to my index finger – the same one that I had used to curse him for a year and a day with pepperoni-sized acne spots after finding out what he’d been doing with Mary the skinny troll. “Don’t know, and I don’t rightly care, just tell her something, man,” he grumbled in nervous frustration.

“Had any good pepperoni pizza’s lately, Jamie?”  I asked with what I hoped with a mad scientist’s evil style grin on my face.

Jamie pushed up from his chair, and the sound of the feet scrapping over the tiles set my teeth on edge. Now, he looked as if the ship was about to go down and he needed to find the nearest lifeboat – women, and children first, be damned.

“I just remembered I have work!” he announced and shot off for the door like a dog after the scent of a hare.

Those big broad shoulders of Ross’ were huffing up and down in silent laughter, and this time, when he brought his eyes to mine, they were a little teary.

“You’re a wicked – wicked woman, Maggie McFae!” Ross offered with a grin the size of a saucer.

“He’s a farmer’s son; he should know that if you mess with the bull, you get the horns.” I shrugged.

Jamie’s sudden nervous disposition served him right, and not just him – Mary the skinny troll always seemed to give me a wide berth too – I can’t think why!

“So, what do you think about Croon taking to flight from the Point?” Ross asked again, those sparkling eyes still shining with laughter.

“Ask my sister, she seems to have an opinion on everything lately,” I offered back, and Moira snorted her contempt for that dig, but I didn’t care. I refused to be drawn into gossip, and I walked off and left the pair of them to their evil ways.

I also had the afternoon rush to bake for.

The tourists were coming! By cruise ship, this time, and boy, when they arrived, did all hell break loose around the town, or what?

It was like being swarmed by millions of ants at a picnic. Our sleepy little town went from having no queues, and a few people going about their daily business, to ravenous, verbally carnivorous beings from another world-devouring the quaintness and reveling in the local culture.

I think they even had Billy blowing on his bagpipes to welcome the ship into port. Imagine that, stepping off from a nice peaceful cruise ship and getting your eardrums blasted by the sound of a squealing cat in a mangle! Not that I didn’t like the sound of a good pipe – I did – but, Billy wasn’t exactly the best that the island had to offer, but he was the cheapest, and the tourists did like the whole Scotland experience, and so bagpipes and kilts were a must.