Highland Wedding - A CHICK LIT ROMANTIC COMEDY (SAMPLE ONLY)

Traumatising teenagers

"So you'll be finished at seven, right?"

"Yup. They're spending the day on Skye and then we'll be back on the mainland for six o'clock. I'll drop them at their hotel and I'll meet you at the Plockton Inn at seven."

Mildred sat on my small suitcase and eyed me balefully. She knew an owner who was about to disappear for two days when she spotted one. Two weeks after I'd proposed, and Jack and I had spent ten hours together if didn't count sleeping—him zonking out as soon as he got in at night.

To be fair, Jack had warned me from the beginning the tourism season was bonkers. And this year, he'd been busier than ever. So busy, I'd yet to tell him what Katya had said to me on Significant Proposal Night (as I now called it).

"Tonight's the night, Mildred," I said. "And, um, can you shift off my case so I can put my super-sexy underwear in it?"

Ever tried reasoning with cats? It rarely works. I picked her up for a consoling cuddle and she scratched me in return. Mildred hated being left on her own. I'd arranged for Mhari to look after her, even if I risked having her poke her way around the house looking for anything secretive. I'd hidden as much as I could. She wasn't able to stay tonight but she could do tomorrow. Mildred must have realised this—hence the scratch.

When Jack had said last week he'd be away yet again at the weekend, I stamped my foot. He sent me a message with a link to the Plockton Inn. "Fancy a night here, gorgeous?"

I forgave him everything. Set in a sheltered bay overlooking Loch Carron, Plockton outdid even Lochalshie with its village charms. I'd plugged the location into my phone and Google maps was about to take me there now. I had previous for taking too long to anywhere in Scotland—the views distracted me—so I decided to set off in plenty of time.

Just as well. Eilean Donan Castle demanded I stop the car, get out and visit it. Then, a group of Americans caught my attention chattering excitedly about Outlander and if the castle had been used during filming.

I bustled up, keen to show off. "No," I said, "but it was in Highlander—the film with the sexy Frenchman and that woman Beatie thingie who has never been in anything since!"

And then didn't it only turn out 'that woman' was leading the tour, the imaginatively named Scottish Film Locations. She hurried her Americans away and glared at me. I spent the rest of my visit to the castle ducking out of sight every time she and her group appeared.

Still, the road to Plockton was enchanting weaving its twisty way through tiny hamlets and farm land. Highland cows, their horns scarily long and pointed, sat on the road and didn't seem inclined to move. I peeped the horn and waited. And waited, so by the time I got to Plockton it was five past seven. The inn was the first hotel as you drove in. There was no sign of Jack's mini-bus.

I checked in and headed up the stairs. The room looked onto the high street, beyond which you could see the loch. Signs at a jetty for a seal tour promised your money back if said seals didn't appear. I dumped my suitcase on the bed. "Perhaps," I told my reflection, "I should ask Highland Tours for my money back for the non-appearance this summer of my boyfriend!"

Last year, the tourist season was tailing off when Jack realised I was the woman of his dreams. (He'd been slow on the uptake.) As soon as October kicked in six weeks later, he was all mine for months. Goodness it had been fun. In theory I was working, having negotiated a remote working deal with my boss at Bespoke Design. But when your boyfriend dangles keys in front of you and says, "Hey, shall we drive out to Oban and get some fish and chips?"

Or even better, he dispenses with the keys and dangles himself there. "Gaby, I'm bored... shall we go to bed for a while?"

The summer season began gently, but then the bookings stacked up. Throughout May, June, July and August we'd spent so little time together, Mildred sometimes hissed at him when he came in, arching her back her fur all puffed out. Who is this stranger? Don't get me wrong. Those end of the week get togethers were exciting. But for the last two weeks we hadn't talked about the wedding once. Or Katya's revelation. And now I'd only gone and said "yes" to it...