“Rich idolises his father, which is why he also emulates him. He spends his life shagging anything that walks, no offence to Joe, of course, but that Rich learned from Dad.”
“It’s a shame because Joe really likes him. I’ve told him time and time again, Rich is nothing but a player,” I said.
“I’ve told Joe that myself, but he won’t listen, and since there’s bad blood between Rich and me, I guess he thinks it’s just sour grapes.”
“Why did you invest in the bar if there’s bad blood?”
“Because Rich blew his money on some Ponzi scheme years ago, and I guess I feel guilty since I invested mine and it’s grown substantially.”
We walked around the gatehouse. It had two bedrooms, one of which was a decent size, a bathroom that certainly needed an update, but as I fiddled with the tap, I screeched at how hot the water was.
Ronan laughed. “Better plumbing than the main house.”
“This is lovely, Ronan, and I can certainly see potential here. We need to upgrade the bathroom and keep one kitchen for making lunches or afternoon tea, but other than that, it’s perfect, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “I do, and I can’t believe I’m even considering a naturist’s spa!”
We left the gatehouse laughing.
Ronan drove us back to the main house a little slower. He pointed out certain trees, and it impressed me when he could name the type and even the age. He certainly seemed to know all there was to know about the estate, and he spoke with such fondness, I imagined it would be a real wrench for him to sell it.
“How much is the estate worth?” I asked as we parked up in the outbuilding.
Ronan took a long breath in and released it in a huff. “Honestly? I don’t really know. I should have had it valued ages ago, but I’ve been delaying it. A few million, for sure.”
“I know this is a personal question, but can you afford to buy Rich out?” I asked.
“I can, but I think by doing so it would limit what I have readily available to invest. It might be that I have to liquidate some of my assets, and that would take time. I want to be fair to him, of course. It might be that he’s happy to take a smaller lump sum then a cut of the profits if we can get the estate profitable, of course.”
I liked the sound of ‘we.’ “What about opening up the house as a hotel or a wedding venue?” I asked.
“It’s not a simple as that. We’d need a permit, and planning applications on historical buildings are a pain in the arse. Scottish Heritage would be all over us if we made the slightest modification or change. I think I’d like to keep the business element outside the house.”
“Okay, what about opening the gardens though?”
He rubbed at his chin. “We’d need to create something worth visiting. Right now, there are no ‘formal’ gardens. Mum let everything go to seed as she’d say, revert back to nature. She didn’t want formal—she wanted bees and butterflies, rustic and natural.”
“Surely that would be attractive to someone? What about butterfly conservation people, there must be an organisation that might like to come visit and document how many butterflies there are? You could then… I don’t know …sell tickets to butterfly enthusiasts to come and photograph them.”
Ronan stopped walking; he turned to me and placed his hands on my upper arms then smiled. “I love your enthusiasm, Lizzie. When Joe suggested I ask you to help me, I wasn’t sure it would be your thing. I’m glad I did. This could be the project we both need to take our minds off our shitty love lives.”
I stared back at him aghast. “I wasn’t aware that Joe had suggested me.”
“Oh, he told me that he’d speak to you about it. I just assumed he had, which was why you agreed to come back here with me.”
“No, I…” I shook my head. “Never mind. Let’s get in and start to plan.”
I wanted out of his touch, away from his stare, and his slightly crooked smile made by full lips that I would’ve loved to kiss. I wanted time to think and maybe curse Joe for not being honest with me.
Chapter Eleven
Ronan and I spent the next day in the library making notes. He fired up a laptop so I could do some research on what the local area offered, what other manor houses did to bring in that extra income, and we made lists. We argued the film set idea; Ronan didn’t think the house historic enough for that. I disagreed—it didn’t have to be the location of a period drama, and I made a list of agencies that we could register the house with. We laughed, talked about our childhoods and what aspirations we had growing up. We had fun. It felt so natural, even talking about our childhood fears.
That evening, Ronan decided that we’d visit a different pub for dinner. It was half an hour drive away, and he was greeted warmly as we entered. He explained that landlords generally supported each other in the pub industry, but I thought it was more because Ronan was a nice guy, friendly, and personable. He had a kind word for everyone, a smile at the ready. I enjoyed watching him as we made our way to the bar where he gave a wink to an elderly lady and her cheeks coloured.
We ordered our drinks, and Ronan handed me a menu. “I can seriously recommend the burgers. They use buffalo meat, and it’s about the best beef you’ll taste,” he said.
“Buffalo burger it is then. Will you order for me? I need the ladies.”
I left him at the bar and made my way to the toilets. I was still smiling as I looked in the mirror while I washed my hands. I enjoyed his company, and I thought he enjoyed mine. It seemed we had grown a little closer the past few days and although that tingle was still present, I was happy we were developing a friendship. I touched up my makeup, and as I prepared to leave the bathroom, a thought hit me.
I was falling for Ronan, and I wasn’t sure what to do about that.
I wasn’t sure that the feeling would be reciprocated, either.
I placed a piece of tissue to my lips to take off the shine of newly applied lipstick and chuckled. I didn’t think Ronan would have invited me to join him, even though recommended by Joe, if he wasn’t mildly fond of me.
By the time I re-joined him, he had found a table and poured me a glass of wine. His smile was broad as I took a sip and sighed. “This is a nice wine,” I said, turning the bottle to face me.
“It’s one of my favourites.”
“You know, I can’t imagine how you can choose to live down south and not here full time. The house, the area, this pub even, is just stunning.”
“It is hard, but I think I need that time away on occasions so that I can really appreciate it when I come back.”
“Other than investing in Rich, what’s the main thing that you do?” I knew he’d told me, but it had seemed vague and varied.
He tilted his head. “Property renovation, mainly. I buy old buildings, do them up and sell them on. Rich brought Joe to my house once, to see if we’d benefit from knowing each other.”
“Do you think Rich will ever stop pissing my friend around?” I asked.
Ronan laughed. “I like that term, and no. No, he won’t stop while Joe allows it. If Joe lets Rich walk all over him, he’ll continue to do so. Rich is like my mum, he wants the hedonistic lifestyle, but he’s sixty years too late.”
I laughed at his comment. Although it appeared Ronan and Rich weren’t necessarily best buddies or at least friendly brothers, I did detect a quiet note of affection in his voice when he spoke about him. I wondered, from a previous comment, what guilt Ronan felt where Rich was concerned, not that I would ask.
The evening wore on and, like the day, we laughed and chatted. It felt a little like a date, especially when it was time to leave and Ronan held open my jacket for me, and then placed his hand on my back to guide me through the pub to the door. He jumped in front to open it and again, to open the car door.
“I’ve really enjoyed today, and tonight,” I said, as he started the car.
“It’s a little like that date we never really got to,” he replied.
In the dar
k, I smiled at him. I watched as he focused on the road ahead. Of all the days I had spent with Ronan, and I knew it wasn’t many, that day had been the best. I believed we could have a great working relationship, although I still wasn’t sure what my role was, exactly.
Ronan’s mobile started to ring, and on the dashboard, I saw the name ‘Carol’ appear. I heard him sigh and watched as he clicked to decline the call. Within seconds it rang again. He ignored it that time and after four rings the call ended, going to voicemail.
“You don’t want to answer that?” I asked.
It took a few seconds before he replied. “Not really. She only wants to row.”
“Why? You’ve been divorced a long time now.”
He sighed. “She feels that she should be entitled to part of the estate. We settled our finances when we divorced, so she’s entitled to fuck all, but she won’t let it be. She knows the estate will come to me and Rich, and I guess she’s pissed off she’s not entitled to any of it.”
There wasn’t really an answer I could give for that. We continued the journey in silence, although I did wonder why he had added her contact to his new phone. It wasn’t a question I felt I could ask, however.
Something had disturbed me—a voice or a noise. I had fallen asleep pretty quickly after returning from the pub, but as I lay in bed, I could hear talking. I peeled back the duvet and, using just my toes, felt for the pair of slippers Maggie had given me, not wanting my feet to touch the cold wooden floor. I shivered as I stood and reached for my robe.
First, I crept to the window and peered through the tiny gap in the curtains. Many a time I’d spotted Charlie on the lawn. That evening, however, there was no one visible, and by the quietness of the voice, I knew it was in the other direction.
I walked to the door and stood with my ear close to the wood. I could hear Ronan and although he wasn’t necessarily shouting, his voice was loud enough to carry along the corridor. I guessed he had left his bedroom door open.
I wasn’t generally the snooping type, but I gently opened the bedroom door and peeped out. The corridor was empty, and the raised voice wasn’t coming from along the way, it was from downstairs. I tiptoed to where the wall ended, and the staircase opened up.
Ronan was standing in the hallway, hands on his hips, and Carol was there too, mimicking his pose while at the doorway. He hadn’t invited her in. I guessed it wasn’t so much shouting that I’d heard but the echo of his voice in that vast hall that had floated up to my bedroom above.
“I only wanted to know who she is,” Carol said.
“No one that you need to be concerned about. I’ve told you to stay out of my life,” Ronan replied, a little aggressively, I thought.
“You have left me with nothing, Ronan, after everything I’ve done for you; supported you, stayed up night after night while you were out partying,” she said.
Ronan laughed. “You really need to give this a rest. It’s fucking boring, Carol. We’re divorced, you’re remarried, there’s nothing about me that you need to know, and I would appreciate you not turning up here demanding answers to questions you have no right to ask.”
“Does she know you can’t be faithful even if you tried? Does she know of all your affairs?”
“She. Is. Staff. Nothing more, okay? Lizzie works for me, I have no feelings towards her at all. Satisfied?”
I reeled backwards, white noise filled my head until that cleared, and all I heard were his words. I spun around and despite my earlier caution, stepped on the creakiest floorboard in the whole house.
“Lizzie?” I heard. I didn’t reply.
By the time the footsteps echoed down the corridor towards my bedroom, I was in the bathroom. I heard the knock on the door and, when I didn’t answer, I heard it creak open.
“Lizzie?” Ronan called out.
“Sorry, I’m in the bathroom. Are you okay?” I replied, forcing a jolly tone to my voice.
“I thought I heard you by the stairs.”
I opened the bathroom door. “Did you need to speak to me? I fell straight to sleep then woke and realised I hadn’t cleaned my teeth,” I said, holding a bone-dry toothbrush I’d snatched from the sink.
He frowned. “Oh, I heard a noise. I thought it was you.”
I gave a small, forced laugh. “These floors creak all the time; it probably was when I walked into the bathroom.”
I hadn’t left the bathroom, keeping most of my body shielded by the heavy oak door. I wasn’t sure why I wanted that barrier, but I was glad of it. I didn’t want Ronan to see my shaking hands or my trembling legs.
He nodded swiftly. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said and started to back from the room.
“Are you okay, Ronan?” I asked, wondering if he’d mention Carol’s visit.
“Sure. I was catching up with some paperwork and thought…well, if you’re okay, I’ll let you get back to bed. Goodnight, Lizzie.”
“I thought I heard someone outside, or maybe downstairs earlier,” I said, probing.
“No, it might have been me on the phone. I was catching up with Rich.”
He lied to me. I smiled as he backed from the room and closed the door but not before giving me a broad smile, one that would have caused those little flutters in my stomach just a few hours prior.
I felt so sad, so down, as I sat on the edge of the bed. I could have accepted him telling me that he’d had a conversation with Carol. I could have understood what he’d said. To have lied made me feel even shittier than if he’d been honest.
His words swirled around my mind. ‘She is staff. Nothing more.’ He had spat the words such was his annoyance at her questioning.
I wondered why Carol was so interested in me and what she meant by all the affairs. He had told me that he hadn’t been unfaithful to her. I sighed and picked up my phone. I wanted to speak to Joe, but after seeing the time, I decided to wait.
I tossed and turned in a once very comfortable bed, finding every non-existent lump to rest on. I felt like the main character from The Princess and the Pea, more so when I gave in and climbed from the bed. I turned on the bedside lamp and inspected the taught crisp cotton sheet.
For the first time, I felt awkward. I wanted to head down to make myself a hot drink but felt...like staff rather than a guest. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened. I couldn’t hear any noises at all. Even staff would be allowed to make a drink, I thought, defiantly.
I left the bedroom, making sure to creep along the hallway and past Ronan’s bedroom. I tiptoed down the stairs and then made my way to the kitchen. I stood in the semi-darkness while the kettle boiled.
“He doesnae mean harm wi’ his words, yer ken,” I heard.
I screeched, holding one hand over my racing heart and another over my mouth as I spun around.
Charlie stood by the door. He walked in, and I noticed his big toe poking out through a hole in his woollen sock. Why the fuck I was concentrating on his big toe was beyond me. He pulled out a chair and sat. He waved his hand to the teapot, and I stared at him.
“I’ll have one if you’re making,” he said.
I grabbed the teapot from the table and opened the lid; it was ready with teabags for the morning brew, so I filled it and pulled out the chair opposite him.
Curiosity was getting the better of me. “What do you mean?” I asked as I poured his tea in a mug. I waited while he spooned four sugars in and then stirred.
“I saw you. You heard him, and that vampire,” he said. It seemed a rather articulate statement from someone I couldn’t understand just a few days ago. “He’ll have told her that so she leaves you alone. He fell in love after her, and she destroyed that. He won’t want that for you. You need to hang on in there,” he said before raising his mug, pushing back the chair and walking away.
I was left sitting there wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do.
I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders as the cold started to seep into me. Should I leave and go back to London, or st
ay a little longer? I didn’t want to just be staff but it was clear that perhaps there wasn’t to be a relationship, despite what had been said in the beginning. That day, however, I’d felt excited by something. I hadn’t felt that way in years, and I mean, years. The house was a project I could really get my teeth into and who knew, maybe it would look good on my non-existent CV? In fact, I chuckled, it would be the only thing on my CV since I’d never officially held down a job.
I topped up my mug with fresh tea and a splash of milk. I needed to stop being silly and accept a friendship with Ronan, and get on with the job.
I climbed the stairs and walked the hallway. Ronan’s bedroom door was open; it hadn’t been when I’d passed before. I hesitated, wondering if he was in there or not. Whether I should knock and see if he wanted a cup of tea. Before I could make a decision, he stepped from the room. He wore just a pair of shorts and his nipples were like bullets. I wanted to place the hand that had cupped the mug over them for fear they’d snap off in the cold.
“Shit,” he said, startled.
“Are you okay? I went to make tea, did I disturb you?” I asked.
He stared at me. “No, I thought I heard someone talking. Voices echo around this old house.”
“They sure do, Ronan. Now, would you like some tea, the pot is still half full?” I replied, raising my eyebrows at the same time.
He sighed, and his shoulders sagged. “Is it too late to talk?” he asked.
I didn’t care what time it was—if he and his frozen nips wanted to spend some time with me, I was up for it. That was until I dragged my pre-menopausal-hadn’t-had-sex-in-an-age mind back to the fact he hadn’t been particularly kind about me.
“It’s never too late,” I said. “You might want to put some clothes on, though. I could hang my coat from your nipples,” I said, speaking out loud something that should have stayed as a thought.
Ronan laughed, covered his nipples with his palms and walked down the hall and stairs and back to the kitchen. I followed.
I sat and wrapped the blanket around me; he sat opposite, thankfully with a throw over his shoulders so his toned and rather lovely torso didn’t further distract me. I poured him some tea.
Limp Dicks & Saggy Tits Page 12