by Les Haswell
“People noticed my occasional bruises and put two and two together. I was really stupid and allowed myself to get pregnant, which Harry was none too happy about; it only made him more aggressive and abusive. I was about six months pregnant when I got home late from work one night. He was pretty drunk and started to go on about being hungry and me not being there to make his dinner in time. I said something about one of us having to work to pay the bills and so on, and he went ballistic. He called me a lazy, ungrateful cow … claimed I didn’t know when I was well off … and started to slap me.
“I tried to get out of the flat, but he pulled me back and started to punch and kick me, told me I was going nowhere until he had been fed. Harry gave me a real beating. I passed out at one point and when I came round, he was taking money from my bag, shouting that if I wouldn’t feed him, he’d go to the pub for dinner.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “He stormed out, leaving the flat door open, and almost knocked the woman next door off her feet as he passed her. She came in to check if I was all right. I was haemorrhaging badly. She called 999 and got me to a hospital, but by that time, I’d had lost a lot of blood.”
She covered her mouth as she stared onto the road. Finally, she was able to continue. “I was losing the baby. I had an emergency operation, but they couldn’t save the baby. The doctor said that I’d never be able to have children.”
“What about this Harry ass?” Rob asked quietly, poking a slice of beef with the fork as he attempted to keep his anger in check.
“Medical staff had called the police and they found my so-called boyfriend in the flat, blind drunk, breaking up furniture and stuff. They tried to calm him down, but he hit one policeman with a stool and lunged at the other with a kitchen knife. He ended up in court facing a string of charges—from attempted murder, assaulting a police officer, GBH and drunk and disorderly, having caused mayhem in the pub earlier that night. Harry’s still in prison and will be for a few years yet.”
She reached across the small table and squeezed his hand. “Until I met you, I hadn’t been with another man.”
“I can’t even begin to understand how it must have felt to go through all that.” He smiled sadly and brushed his lips across her hand. “I started to fall in love with you the moment I set eyes on you. I knew you were the one for me that first night. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, that’s why I took it so hard when I thought I’d lost you. I think we can make a life together … be very happy … and create wonderful memories.”
He watched a young couple saunter past hand in hand. “I’ve got things to sort out with the estate on Achravie, that’s my other priority. My mother is adamant it shouldn’t be sold. She’s also quite positive that Angus wouldn’t be interested; he apparently sold his share to Bruce after my father died and used the cash to invest in farms he manages in New Zealand.” He sipped wine and shrugged. “The main problem would be the running of the estate—most estates with an absentee landlord struggle—so I’d need to spend a fair bit of time there or have a full-time estate manager. I’d probably need to do the latter, because there’s Harper MacLaine and Joe to consider. That’s a business I know and enjoy running, and Joe is more like a brother to me than a business partner. I couldn’t walk away from either; they’ve been my life since I came out of the Regiment. Plus, if you and I do make a life together, how would you feel about the possibility of returning to Achravie?”
She forked up mashed peas and chewed slowly as she considered it. “I liked Achravie, what I saw of it, and Lorna’s there. I’d like to keep in contact with her. She’s hurting too, you know. Stella really caused her a lot of pain.”
Rob nodded in agreement.
“Just don’t ask me to go back to that cottage,” she shuddered. “What exactly does Achravie Estate consist of?”
“Pretty much the island of Achravie, which is about 6,000 acres, about nine square miles in layman’s terms, Hillcrest House which is about 6,000 sq.ft. It’s got eight bedrooms, five reception rooms, including a main hall with a massive staircase and high vaulted ceilings. There are fifteen houses and cottages, and the Red Lion, in the village. All told, it’s probably worth somewhere between 12 to 15 million pounds in today’s market, I suppose. Most of the other properties on the island are leasehold, although some of the newer ones are freehold. The Estate sold the plots to the builders.”
Rob caught the waiter’s attention with the universal could-I-have-the-bill signal and once it was paid, they began walking arm-in-arm to the villa. Beyond the village, Rob used the little Maglite torch to light their way.
“I could help you put together a plan for Achravie if you like. I’d need to have a look at the accounts with the P&L and cash-flow spreadsheets. Do an inventory of the assets and give me an idea of what you want to do with the place; we could knock up a first-draft business plan. Once that’s done, we could refine it after you’ve spoken with your brother.”
“Sounds good.”
“You sound sceptical Mr MacLaine, but to someone like myself, with a first-class honours in Business Management and a Masters in Strategic Marketing, it would be a walk in the park,” she advised. “I worked as a project manager with a firm of management consultants. Andy Savage’s my uncle, not many people know that, and he’s happy to leave it at that. He took me under his wing after I lost the baby, and took me on as his PA on maternity cover, but the girl decided not to come back to work, so I stayed on.
“Truth be told, it really doesn’t hold my interest anymore and I’d love to get my teeth into a project like this. I’m not just a pretty face you know,” she joked.
“No, you’ve got good tits and a nice arse too,” Rob chuckled and smacked her backside lightly.
“I’m never going to be allowed to forget that, am I?” Justine chuckled.
“Absolutely not!”
They reached the villa and Rob locked up as Justine unpacked her entire case, hanging clothes in one of the wardrobes, stowing smaller items in various drawers, and lining up lotions and potions in the bathroom alongside Rob’s toiletries.
Undressed, they slipped naked into the firm king-sized bed. They wrapped their arms round each other and held each other close, kissing leisurely.
“I’ve been on the go since before four this morning, but it was worth it.” Justine rested her head on Rob’s chest.
Gently, he ran a hand over her lower back and flank. “I was really missing you.” No response.
He looked down and saw she was sound asleep in his arms. He smiled and closed his eyes.
29
The next morning, they awakened to bright sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. They kissed and began to make love, exploring each other and enjoying the fact there was no need to rush. Afterwards, Justine dozed.
Rob slid out of bed, careful not to wake her, and stepped into the shower. He had almost finished when he became aware of another presence in the room; turning, he found Justine smiling at him.
“Am I too late to soap your back for you?” she enquired mischievously
“Certainly not.” He pulled her into the shower and another round of lovemaking ensued.
As Justine washed her hair, which she said would take ages, Rob saw to setting breakfast on the terrace: cereal, bread, honey, and coffee. While he waited for her to make an appearance, Rob texted his mother for Angus’s contact information so he could touch base and discuss Achravie Estate.
His mother replied almost immediately, much to Rob’s surprise, as it was still early in the UK. In addition to providing the requested contact details, she told Rob that Angus was expecting a call from him. She’d related the story about the situation on Achravie, which had led to Bruce’s untimely death and her learning that Rob wasn’t dead. She ended her message with: please don’t sell Achravie!
Justine arrived. “I love a man who feeds me,” she teased, rubbing her hands at the sight of food and coffee.
While she ate, Rob told her of the email exchange.
“I’ll only sell if I can’t afford to keep it, and a lot of that depends on Angus and what he wants. In theory, I already own one-third of the estate and if Angus sold his share to Bruce, Bruce then owned two thirds. Now that Bruce is dead, I inherit half of his share.” He smirked. “He’d turn in his grave if he knew that. That means that Angus again owns one-third of the estate and I own the other two-thirds, so I need to buy that third from him. This all assumes that my mother is right and he doesn’t want to hang on to it.
“Given what I think the estate is worth, Angus could reasonably ask up to around five-million pounds for his share, which would use up a great deal of my working capital, so I’d need to be inventive when it came to raising that cash.” Rob appeared pensive. “I own 75% of Harper MacLaine, so if Joe were up for it, I’d sell him 20% … which would leave me with controlling interest and still realise a million or few. The problem is that Harper MacLaine makes healthy profits and is about to take a big hike in turnover and profit with the new contract we were celebrating the night I bumped into you. Achravie, on the other hand, is profitable … but not to the same extent as Harper MacLaine. If I need to sell a chunk of that to buy Achravie, I’m going to lose substantial income.”
“Unless we can increase the turnover and profit at Achravie,” Justine stated.
“If we can increase the turnover and margins at Achravie, it would be helpful and make the whole exercise worthwhile, but we’d need to do that without making life for anyone on the island more difficult,” he declared.
“Can you get me access to the Achravie accounts and inventory?”
“It’s all over there,” Rob said, pointing to plastic folders and papers on the large dining-room table. “I got it all from Alan Hogg before I left, and printed off the important parts. The rest is on my laptop if you need back-up data. If you need anything else, I can ask Alan Hogg to send it or get it from the accountants.”
“While I look at that, why don’t you try to speak to your brother? New Zealand is 10 hours behind us here, so you’d get him about now.”
Rob agreed and watched Justine stroll to the table with the Achravie files and folders. He pulled up his brother’s telephone numbers and dialled the landline. What would he say to Angus after all this time? They’d been good friends as boys and had shared many hobbies and interests growing up. Neither had had much in common with Bruce, and most of their friends hadn’t been big fans of Bruce.
A young boy’s voice answered. “Robert MacLaine. Can I help you?”
Rob was stunned; Angus and his wife had given their son his name.
“Hello, can I help you?” the boy repeated.
“Uh, sorry. May I speak with your father please? Tell him it’s his brother, your uncle Rob.”
“Uncle Rob? I’m named after you, you know,” the young lad enthused. “But you were dead.”
““No I wasn’t dead, Robert,” he laughed uneasily. “Some people just said I was, dead because it suited them, but it wasn’t true. I was in the army and I’m very much alive, young man.”” Rob added.
Robbie, who is it?” a man in the background asked.
“It’s Uncle Robbie and he’s not dead. You were right, Dad.”
“Hello, Robbie? Is that you?” Angus asked quickly, taking the phone from his son.
“It’s me and I’m not dead. Your son is perfectly correct,” Rob said wryly.
“Aw heck, sorry about that. Young Robbie just says it as he sees it, a bit like you when we were kids. How are you? Mother told me about your adventures on Achravie. She said you were there when Bruce was killed.”
“I’m pretty good and all the better for being alive again. We have a lot to catch up on.”
The brothers spent the next twenty minutes doing just that—reminiscing. They then got down to the specifics of Achravie Estate. Angus confirmed he had no interest in the estate; it held too many bad memories. A bad-tempered abusive father, a brother who’d done his best to make Angus’ life miserable, and the reaction to the car accident which had seen him lose his brother suddenly and cruelly.
He’d left Achravie after a violent argument with his father and vowed never to return. In New Zealand, he’d married the daughter of a local rancher and they’d brought two sons into the world. Along with a large collection of dogs and cats, they were one big happy family.
Rob told Angus their mother was adamant about not having the family estate sold.
“I sold my share of the estate to Bruce when our father died. I still have no interest in it, so mum was right there. Mum and I talked about this the other night. She wants you to keep the estate Rob, she knows I have made my life here. I’ve already discussed it with Val and she agrees that we sell my share to you, if you want, that is. If I sell you my part of Achravie, Val and I can buy the rest of the farms from her dad, and that would be awesome. I’m more than happy to sell it to you.” Angus chuckled. “We’ve already spoken to Val’s dad and agreed to a price; it’s way under valuation because he said if he died tomorrow, Val would get it for free, anyway.” He chuckled again. “If you agree to give me what we’ve agreed to with Val’s dad, we’re set here for life.” Angus hesitated. “Val’s dad needs the equivalent of two-million sterling from me, so that’s the price I’d ask for my share of Achravie. How does that sound, Robbie?”
“That’s way under value Angus.”
“I don’t need the full value … buying the rest of the farms sets us for life here. You’re going to be more in need of your money than I am to invest in Achravie. Much as I don’t want Achravie, I also don’t want to see it leave family ownership—and Mother’s quite passionate about that. This way, we all get what we want.”
When Rob didn’t respond, Angus said, “Say something, little brother.”
“I don’t know what to say. Two million is way less than its worth,” he reiterated
“Why don’t you just say yes; then I can go eat my supper,” Angus quipped.
“In that case yes. Thank you, I don’t know what to say” Rob replied.
“It’s no more than you deserve after the way this family treated you. Have Alan Hogg draw up a document based on what we’ve agreed to, send it over to me, and I’ll sign it. And when you pay me the funds, Achravie is yours. I’ll give you a call in a couple of days. Give me your ID and I’ll Skype you, let you meet your sister-in-law and two nephews and I understand from mum you’ve got a cracker of a young woman in tow, be good to meet her too!.”
“Will do. Thanks again.” Rob ended the call in a state of disbelief. “Two million,” he said to no one in particular.
Justine was so engrossed in the Achravie paperwork, she hardly noticed Rob’s return to the table till he stood beside her, a glazed look on his face.
“How did it go?” she asked, scanning his face.
A smile slowly appeared. “Two million.”
“You got him to agree to two million?” She grabbed his arm.
“No, he got me to agree to that. I told him that was way under valuation, but he said that was all he wanted, all he needed. He doesn’t want me to sell Achravie and I think he sees this as payback.”
Justine squealed and jumped up, throwing her arms around Rob’s neck and hugging him tightly. Suddenly, she pulled back. “You can do this, at that sort of price. Even a cursory look at the accounts says that Achravie is a fairly healthy cash generator, even as it stands. You can do this.”
“I can’t ….”
Justine’s jaw dropped, the enthusiasm gone. “You can … you must!”
Rob lay an index finger on her lips. “If you’d let me finish. I can’t do this, not with everything else I’ve got on the go, but we can, you and me. If you’ve managed projects with a big management consultancy, and being Andy’s PA isn’t holding your interest, so we can work on this project together; it’s too much for me on my own. What do y
ou say? Work with me on this; help me make it work.”
Justine stood, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”
Rob smiled. “I haven’t taken the decision to buy Achravie lightly. This is a second chance for me to make it my home, something I never dreamed would happen. A lot of people on the island rely on the estate for a living, so I need to make sure I don’t let them down … I need to make it work for them as well as for me.” He drew her close. “You once asked me not to play with you and I promised I wouldn’t. You’ve got the expertise to solve my problem and I get to have more of you in my life. So, yes, it’s a serious offer.”
Justine almost knocked Rob off his feet when she jumped at him, tightly wrapping her arms around his neck again and her long legs round his waist. “I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you want.”
“Is that a ‘yes’ then?”
Justine let go and raced out to the terrace, down the steps to the pool area. By the time she reached the pool, she was naked. She dove in and surfaced when she reached the other end.
Rob stood there, his expression a cross between amused and surprised.
“Of course it’s yes.” She splashed him and suddenly noticed the pool man to the side.
He doffed his hat, smiled, and looked away.
She groaned and tried her best to cover her nudity. Rob laughed as he hadn’t laughed in ages.
30
He was still laughing about the incident a week later when they sat on the EasyJet Airbus A320-214 lifting them into a cloudless sky above Corfu. They’d thoroughly enjoyed the time there, but it was time to get back to London.
During the week, Rob and Justine had worked tirelessly on a business plan for Achravie. They’d spent hours pouring over spreadsheets and projections, and determining what the finished Achravie would look like as a business.