The Moon Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  A number of what Google thought were suitable positions appeared on the screen and I scrolled through them.

  ‘Assistant professor in Animal Immunology and Landscape Ecology, South Georgia, USA.’

  Not appealing, I thought, even if I had the experience to become an assistant professor, which I didn’t.

  ‘Zoological Field Assistant, specialising in seals and seabirds, Antarctica.’

  Not on your life, Tiggy, as if Scotland isn’t cold enough . . .

  ‘Conservation officer required on game reserve in Malawi.’

  Now that sounds interesting . . .

  I shot off a quick email and attached my CV, only realising after I’d pressed ‘send’ that I hadn’t changed my address on the CV from Switzerland to Kinnaird, but knowing Ma would immediately send any correspondence on to me in Scotland.

  *

  Having given myself at least one positive alternative for the future, I woke early the next morning feeling calmer. After feeding the cats, I paused briefly halfway up the slope from the enclosure, and listened for sounds in the glen. Not even the whisper of a breeze stirred the complete stillness. I’d learnt that the eerie silence often came before a snowstorm. The cats obviously agreed, for none of them had come out to see me. As I trudged the rest of the way to the Lodge to collect Chilly’s food, I contemplated what I would tell Zed over today’s dreaded lunch. Or in fact, how I would frame the ‘no’ that I had to give him.

  ‘Me in New York?! Never,’ I said to myself. ‘You’d hate every moment of it, Tiggy, being in some tiny glass box in the sky. Manhattan’s probably the same size as the Kinnaird estate,’ I added, ‘but chock-a-block with buildings.’

  Zed did say you’d be spending a lot of time travelling . . .

  ‘No, Tiggy,’ I told myself firmly, ‘whatever happens, however he tries to convince you, you have to say no. It’s just not . . . right. And that’s all there is to it.’

  *

  ‘Are you ill again, Chilly? Should I call someone?’ I asked as I arrived in the cabin to find him once more lying on his bed.

  ‘No worse than I was yesterday, or will be tomorrow.’ Chilly’s eyes opened as I approached him. ‘You is goin’, not me.’

  ‘Honestly, Chilly,’ I said, ‘you do talk some rubbish sometimes.’

  ‘Tell Angelina it was me who guided you home like I promised.’

  His eyes closed again, but I went to him and took his hand.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Chilly,’ I said softly.

  ‘You going home. And after that,’ he said with a small sigh, ‘so am I.’

  Even though I spent the next few minutes begging him to tell me what he meant, he was either feigning sleep or he really was dozing, for he said no more. I kissed him on his forehead, and since it was obvious that he wouldn’t respond, I could do no more than leave his lunch by the gas ring for him to warm up later and say a gentle goodbye to him.

  *

  ‘Hello, Beryl,’ I greeted her as I walked into the kitchen an hour later.

  ‘You’re a little early for lunch. Zed told me he was expecting you at one.’

  ‘He is, but I need to use the computer again first if it’s free.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, it is, our guest is on one of his endless foreign calls in the Great Room. Mornings it’s China and the East, afternoons and evenings it’s New York and the West. I really don’t know why he’s here – he hardly ever takes advantage of what’s beyond the windows . . . He only goes out to shoot at a target for an hour each day in the copse. To be frank, Tiggy, one way and another, just now I could scream.’

  I watched her viciously attack the carrot in front of her with a knife.

  ‘I’m sorry, Beryl. Hopefully he’ll leave soon and you’ll get the Lodge back, and some fresh air into it,’ I added, trying to lighten the conversation.

  ‘And then who’ll arrive here the moment it’s free? She’s back again – I saw them together this morning on my way here, out riding. They were grinning at me, as bold as brass,’ she muttered, giving another carrot a brutal chop.

  ‘Who, Beryl?’

  ‘Oh, no one.’ Beryl reached into her apron pocket for a tissue and blew her nose. ‘Ignore me. It’s a depressing time of year, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. And, Beryl . . . honestly, any time you want to talk, I’m here, I really am.’

  ‘Thank you, dear.’

  Shutting the study door behind me, I sat down at the desk and logged into Hotmail. Two emails appeared – one from Charlie and the other from Maia.

  I read Charlie’s first.

  Hi Tiggy, forgive typos as this is written (as usual) in haste. Firstly I realised that I have never apologised about the near miss you had in the snow. If ‘Beryl’ hadn’t been in such a poor state, it might have been avoided. And I’d never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you. I also apologise for not saying a proper goodbye when I left the other day. You deserve huge thank yous for helping Zara – and also from me on how to handle her. Your advice worked: after getting home, she asked to go back to school. We haven’t heard anything untoward from her since, so fingers crossed she’s settled down again.

  It was good to see you and have a chat – albeit brief – but I look forward to seeing you again soon, when I hope to have some more positive news about the future of the estate.

  Take care

  Charlie x

  I gave myself a small hug of pleasure, at the kiss and the warmth and concern the email contained. Being the sad lonely creature I was, I even printed it off to read again later.

  Then I read Maia’s email.

  Dear Tiggy,

  I’ve been thinking about our conversation a lot since we spoke and I’m worried about you and our weird ‘stalker’. Even though the job sounds amazing, please think carefully.

  I hummed and hahed about whether to send you the attached, but I think you should see it before you decide. It’s from a year ago but . . .

  Don’t hate me!

  Hope to see you in the summer,

  Speak soon,

  Maia xx

  I scrolled down and opened the attachment. And there in front of me was a picture of the man currently waiting for me in the Great Room. He had his arm slung around my sister Electra’s shoulder, and the caption read:

  ‘Zed Eszu and Electra enjoy each other’s company at a gallery opening in Manhattan. Seen out and about in the city occasionally in the past eighteen months, one wonders whether they are officially an item or whether they’ll keep us guessing.’

  ‘That confirms it,’ I muttered, as I clicked ‘print’, then folded the sheet and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans.

  Gathering myself together for a second, I took a deep breath and headed for the Great Room.

  ‘Tiggy.’ Zed rose and walked towards me from his chair by the fire – the heat in the room was stifling. ‘I feel I have not had you to myself for a long time. It is almost as though you have been avoiding me,’ he added as he kissed me on both cheeks.

  ‘Not at all, Zed. Everything’s just been very busy.’

  ‘With the sighting of the white stag, you mean?’

  ‘I . . . it’s only hearsay, Zed.’

  ‘Come along, Tiggy, we all know you have seen him, that Cal took photographs of him, which have somehow made their way into the media’s hands. If I was Charlie Kinnaird, I would be singing to the treetops about it. It is a sure-fire way to put the Kinnaird estate on the tourist map. What is he waiting for?’

  ‘Charlie would never do that, Zed, because we must do everything we can to protect the stag, and letting hundreds of people onto the estate is hardly the way to do that. Not to mention the threat of poachers. The stag’s so rare, he’s almost mythical. Please remember that my profession – and my remit here – is all about wildlife conservation.’

  ‘Of course, and wouldn’t it be incredible if we could get a shot of you and the stag for the launch of our charity? Forget the giraffe,’ Zed chuckled
, ‘they are two a penny, as they say here in the UK. Next time you go out to see the stag, can I come with you and bring a camera? I believe he has been spotted in the birch copse. I saw the old Range Rover parked there yesterday when I took a ride out in my own to try to spot him.’

  ‘Zed, we have to talk,’ I said firmly, horrified that Zed seemed to know where Pegasus was.

  ‘Of course. You will want to know the details of your package. I have my eye on a loft in Chelsea that I think would suit you when you are in Manhattan, and not saving lions in Africa. Now, I have some champagne on ice’ – he indicated it, nestled in a silver ice bucket on the drinks cabinet. ‘Shall I open it?’

  I stared at him in disbelief. He was obviously convinced I was going to take the job.

  ‘No, Zed, because—’

  ‘You have concerns,’ he said without missing a beat. ‘So I have prepared a file for you that sets out your job specification and, of course, your salary. Here.’ He offered me a folder.

  ‘Thank you for going to so much trouble, but I’m afraid I can’t take the job, and nothing can change my mind.’

  Zed frowned at me. ‘Can I ask you why?’

  ‘Because . . .’ The many answers I’d prepared flew out of my head as his gaze didn’t waver. ‘I like it here.’

  ‘Come now, Tiggy, I am sure you can do better than that.’

  I saw the glint of steel surface in Zed’s eyes.

  ‘I really am a country girl at heart and this feels like home.’

  ‘If you cared to glance at what is in that file, you would see that I have included a first-class flight for you to travel back to anywhere in Europe once a month. You would also see that I envisage you spending at least six months a year in Africa, especially in the beginning, when you are looking for ways to spend the twenty-five million dollars you will have at your disposal.’

  Twenty-five million . . .

  ‘It all sounds amazing, but I’m only twenty-six, and have zero experience in anything other than animal conservation. There’s no way I could do all the business stuff.’

  ‘Which is why you will have an experienced team around you. As I have already said, your sole mandate is to source the projects and to front the whole enterprise. We will get you a stylist, a new wardrobe, a public-speaking coach . . .’

  I stood there as Zed continued to tell me how I would be taken and moulded and owned by him. And as I thought about this, Zed’s face and body began to change, and he morphed into a giant green and horribly venomous lizard, his pointed tongue flicking in and out at me as he spoke . . .

  Zed eventually stopped talking, and as he did so, transformed back from reptile to human.

  ‘Er, right. Um, thank you, Zed, really, I’m honoured, but whatever you say to me, it’s still a no.’

  ‘And it really is this place – Kinnaird – that holds you here?’

  ‘Yes,’ I confirmed. ‘I love it.’

  ‘Well then, my decision is made.’ Zed slapped his thigh. ‘I will buy this estate. I have been thinking about it for the last few days. I’m sure Charlie will agree to sell to me. We all know how desperate he is. He will be only too happy to have it taken off his hands.’

  ‘You want to buy Kinnaird?’ I whispered, my voice quivering with horror.

  ‘Why not? It will be tax deductible; we can hold teambuilding exercises for my staff in the great outdoors, and perhaps use some of the land for an eighteen-hole golf course. I can extend the Lodge into a proper hotel and turn those old barns into retail outlets selling local products. In short, I would bring the whole place into the new millennium. And you, Tiggy, can stay here and help me.’

  I was so completely shocked that I opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish.

  ‘So,’ Zed continued, smiling, ‘whichever way you throw the dice, Tiggy, it looks like you will end up working for me. Now, let us have that champagne.’

  ‘Zed, I’m sorry but I have to go.’

  ‘Why? What is it I have said or done that has offended you?’

  ‘I . . . You’ve been more than generous, and I really appreciate it, but I can’t work for you, Zed, either here or in New York.’

  ‘Why ever not, Tiggy? I thought we were getting on very well?’

  ‘Well, it’s just that . . .’ I fished in my back pocket for the printout. ‘I spoke to my sister Maia about you. And she sent me this.’ I proffered the paper to him and watched him unfold it. He looked at the photograph, then up at me.

  ‘It’s my sister, Electra,’ I prompted.

  ‘I know who it is, Tiggy, I just do not understand your reaction to it.’

  ‘First you date Maia, and then you move on to Electra, and now here you are with me! I’m sorry, but I just think it’s . . . weird.’

  ‘Tiggy, please don’t be so naive. You must know how the media can take a completely innocent friendship and make it look like the greatest love affair since Burton and Taylor. I told you openly that I knew Maia and Electra. And yes, with Maia I had a relationship, but with Electra, only a casual friendship. As you know, she currently has a boyfriend, so I have not seen her for months. Besides, you are all beautiful women who move in similar circles to me. It is as simple as that.’

  ‘I certainly don’t move in similar circles to you. And I never will. Now, I’m going, and I’d really prefer it if we didn’t see each other again.’

  ‘Surely you are not jealous of your two sisters?’

  ‘Of course I’m not!’ I almost shouted at him in frustration because he still didn’t get it. ‘Your fixation with us sisters, it’s just . . . creepy. Bye, Zed.’

  I walked from the room, half expecting him to follow me and glad that Beryl was there as protection in the kitchen and that Cal would be home for lunch. Once out of the house, I bolted across the courtyard, opened the front door to the cottage and slammed it behind me.

  ‘Shit!’ I said as I contemplated moving the sofa against the door as extra protection.

  ‘Where’s the fire?’ asked Cal, sauntering out of the kitchen, eating a huge slice of meat pie.

  ‘Are you going to be here for the next hour?’ I panted.

  ‘I can be, yes. Why?’

  ‘Because I just turned down Zed’s job offer. He wasn’t very happy, to put it mildly, so then he said he wanted to buy the Kinnaird estate, so either way I’d end up working for him and . . . then I showed him a photo of him with one of my sisters in a magazine, and he dated my other sister too, and . . . God, Cal, I seriously think he’s mad!’

  ‘Whoa, Tig, you’ve lost me. What was that about him buying Kinnaird?’

  ‘He just told me he was going to. Oh Cal!’ Tears sprang to my eyes. ‘He was talking about putting in a golf course and retail outlets and . . .’

  Cal sank into a chair. ‘Surely the Laird would never sell? Especially not to someone like Zed.’

  ‘We can both guess how broke Charlie and the estate are. Even if we get the maximum amount of grant money, it’s still going to be touch and go.’

  ‘Jesus,’ he breathed, ‘that would be the end of an era for sure. Never mind my dreams of marrying Caitlin and buying a cottage of our own.’

  ‘The worst thing is, Zed would just be buying the estate as a plaything – maybe just to spite me.’

  ‘You think you’re worth a few million, do yae, Tig?’ he teased me, and I blushed, which lightened the atmosphere a little.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that, but I just feel like he’s out to get me whatever I do.’

  ‘Aye, he does seem tae have a strange fixation on you. And you say he’s been out with two o’ your sisters as well?’

  ‘Yes, and Maia didn’t have a good word to say about him. God, Cal, I’ve just turned down a twenty-five-million-dollar budget to spend as I wished,’ I groaned. ‘And – if he buys Kinnaird I’d have to leave, I really would.’

  ‘I really don’t think it’ll happen, Tig.’ Cal shook his head. ‘Mebbe you should speak tae Charlie about it.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I sh
rugged. ‘Anyway, I’m going to take myself off to Tain for the afternoon and see Margaret. Then I’m going out to watch over Pegasus tonight. Zed knows where he is. You don’t think . . . ?’

  ‘Jesus! An’ there’s me arranging target practice for him. You sure about going out again later, Tig? There’s a blizzard comin’ in,’ Cal said to me as he studied the benign blue sky through our cottage window, the midday sun sprinkling a glitter topping on the layer of snow that covered the ground all winter. The view was Christmas-card perfect.

  ‘Yes! We just can’t take the chance, Cal, you know we can’t.’

  ‘I doubt even the Abominable Snowman’ll be out tanite,’ Cal muttered.

  ‘You promised we’d keep watch,’ I entreated him. ‘Look, I’ll take the radio with me and contact you if there’s any trouble.’

  ‘Tig, d’you really think I’m going tae let a wee lassie like you sit alone in a snowstorm while there’s a possible poacher with a rifle prowling the estate? Don’t be a dafty,’ Cal growled at me, his ruddy features showing irritation, then finally compliance. ‘No longer than a couple o’ hours, mind. After that, I’m dragging you home by the hair. I’ll not be responsible for you ending up with hypothermia again. Understand?’

  ‘Thanks, Cal,’ I replied with relief. ‘I know Pegasus is in danger. I just . . . know it.’

  *

  The snow had fallen thickly around us in the dugout and the tarpaulin roof had buckled under its weight. I wondered if it would collapse altogether and we would be buried alive under the sheer weight of snow above us.

  ‘We’re leavin’ now, Tig,’ said Cal. ‘I’m numb to my innards an’ we’ll be struggling tae drive back. The blizzard’s eased for a while and we need tae get home while we can.’ Cal took a last slurp of lukewarm coffee from the flask then offered it to me. ‘Finish that. I’ll go an’ clear the snow off the windscreen and get the heat going.’

  ‘Okay,’ I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing.

  We’d sat in the dugout for over two hours, watching nothing but the snow hurl itself to the ground. Cal left and headed towards Beryl, parked beyond a stone outcrop in the valley behind us. I peered out through the tiny window of the dugout as I sipped the coffee, then turned off the hurricane lamp and crawled outside. I didn’t need my torch as the sky had cleared and now twinkled with thousands of stars, the Milky Way clearly visible above me. The moon, which was waxing and within two days of being full, shone down, illuminating the pristine white blanket that covered the ground.