by Katie Fforde
‘That would be good,’ she replied.
He sighed. ‘I would really like to take you for a drive and a walk, if you’re up for it, and while we’re doing that I’ll explain about the cottage.’
‘So it’s not a simple explanation then?’
‘No.’
‘Let’s do that then, when I’ve got time off. I can’t predict when that might be.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘Oh, here’s Rowan. Does Murdo need me?’
Rowan looked at her father before she answered. ‘Erm—’
‘I’ll just pop and check,’ said Caro. ‘I don’t want to get it wrong on my first day.’
‘Before you go,’ said Alec, ‘let’s go on our trip this time tomorrow. I’ll clear it with Murdo.’
Caro smiled. ‘OK!’
Caro’s afternoon was mostly spent struggling to remember how to play two-handed bridge, but when Murdo needed another nap, she went back to her plastic caravan to properly settle in.
She was only going to be up here for six weeks or two months at the most, so it didn’t really matter where she stayed. But her curiosity was desperately piqued. If Alec didn’t tell her what was going on when they went on their expedition together, she would find out for herself. After all, he did owe her an explanation, and if he didn’t give her one, it was his own fault if she investigated.
After supper that evening, while she helped Heather clear up, Caro asked if Heather ever had a day off.
‘It’s fine,’ Heather replied. ‘It’s only this busy while Lennie is away.’
‘I’ll take that as a “no”,’ said Caro. ‘But I was employed to do “a little light cooking”, which means I can take over from you, at least for an evening.’
Heather regarded her doubtfully. ‘I usually just cook with what’s in the freezer.’
‘And that is?’
‘Venison, mostly. We don’t have to buy that.’
‘That sounds like quite a luxury ingredient, if you watch all the cookery shows on television.’
Heather’s laugh was more dismissive than amused. ‘Really? Not the sort of meat I get presented with, I don’t think!’
‘I hardly dare ask, but what kind of meat do you get presented with?’
‘“Deer” just about covers it. It’s why I do so many casseroles.’
‘Even so,’ said Caro briskly. ‘I could do the casserole for you one night. Or lots of nights if Murdo doesn’t turn up his nose at my cooking.’
‘You were only supposed to make Himself the occasional omelette or scrambled egg,’ said Heather.
Caro studied her, and did not try and disguise the fact. The woman before her, although only a little older than she was, seemed tired. The family, as far as Caro had had the opportunity to observe, took her for granted. Her husband, though a good man in many ways, probably wasn’t the sort to give his wife a foot rub or ask how her day had been.
Caro came to a decision. ‘While I am here, I think you should let me help with the cooking. I would really like to do that.’
Heather sighed. ‘Well, I’m not saying I wouldn’t be grateful, but it’s not expected of you.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll help you tomorrow but when I’ve learnt my way round your kitchen and store cupboard and freezer, I’m determined to give you a few nights off. While I’m here.’
‘To be honest, I’m glad enough of the help you’ve given me already.’
Caro smiled. ‘It’s been very little but anything I can do, I’d be glad. After all, Murdo spends a lot of time asleep. He doesn’t need me all that much.’
‘Well, if you could assist me a bit I’d have more time for baking. Murdo dearly loves a bit of cake but I’m no good at them.’
‘I’ll take over cake duty. Cakes are easy,’ said Caro blithely, before adding, ‘What sort of a cooker do you have?’ There was a range in front of her but she was hoping for something a bit more controllable. She hadn’t used a traditional range before.
‘There’s an electric cooker in the utility,’ said Heather. ‘Lennie had it put there so we can use it in the summer if we’re running short of oil.’
‘Thank goodness for that!’ said Caro. ‘I thought I’d just shot myself in the foot there.’
Heather laughed. ‘You get used to the range but it’s better for things that are a bit more flexible on temperature.’
While the dishwasher was running, and they were making tea and coffee, Caro said, ‘I’m hoping to go for a drive and a walk with Alec tomorrow.’
‘Aye, he told me. He’s going to bring a pair of Rowan’s boots over for you to borrow. Or there’s always mine.’
When they’d discussed walking boots and the merits of thick socks for a bit, Caro asked what she’d been longing to ask. ‘Do Murdo and Alec get on? Murdo is always very rude about him, but then he’s rude about George, and he obviously adores that dog.
Heather sighed and Caro realised that this much-put-upon woman had a lot of reasons to sigh. ‘They didn’t speak for a while. Alec went off to study and while he was away Frazer Neale came in as factor and took his place rather. When he came back – Alec, that is – he was resentful. So no, they don’t really get on.’
‘So whose side are you on?’ Too late, Caro realised she should never have put Heather in such an awkward position by asking this. But she couldn’t take it back.
There was a long silence. Caro could see Heather’s effort not to sigh again. ‘It’s very difficult. I don’t take sides.’
Caro allowed herself a small sigh in reply. ‘OK, well as long as I can stay friends with everyone while I’m here, that’ll be good.’
Alec came to collect Caro after lunch the following day with two pairs of boots for her to try. He was quite particular about her choice and insisted on doing them up for her. Having him at her feet was quite an odd experience but it gave Caro a chance to study his head for quite a long time.
‘There,’ he said, straightening up. ‘How do those feel?’
‘A bit tight, to be honest.’
‘In the length, or the width?’
‘It’s the lacing. They were fine before you did them up.’
‘They’re supposed to be tight. Don’t worry about it.’
‘I must remember never to ask you to do up my corset,’ Caro said, without thinking. ‘I’d probably faint.’
His expression was a picture of bafflement and then amusement, which he tried to conceal. Caro was suddenly sent back in time to a Greek island. It was dark and she and Alec (Xander as he was then) had just met. She’d said something, and she couldn’t remember what, but she knew she’d spoken without thinking and what had come out was a bit weird. He’d looked at her then with exactly the same expression he was looking at her with now.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud,’ she apologised. ‘I mean, for some reason I made the connection and I should have just kept my mouth shut. Oh, never mind.’
He looked at her and for a second she thought that perhaps he had recognised her. There was intentness in his gaze.
He moved closer and breathed in. ‘Would you mind if I asked you what scent you’re wearing?’
‘It’s Royal Water by Creed.’
‘I thought I recognised it. It’s unusual.’
‘It’s also horrendously expensive so I don’t wear it all the time,’ said Caro. ‘My mother and my grandmother both used it.’
Continuing to study her for a few moments, he frowned and shook his head; and then he smiled. It really was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, thought Caro. It was impossible not to feel warmed by it.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’d better set off. We don’t want Murdo having to watch Pointless on his own.’
But although she laughed, as she followed him out to the car she felt instead of drawing a bit closer to Alec she was suddenly much further away. For some reason, he resented her presence. Was it because he felt guilty about the cottage? Surely it couldn’t just be that. There must be something else that wa
s wrong.
They didn’t speak as they drove. Caro wanted to see the view and Alec obviously didn’t want to make lighthearted conversation. But the silence wasn’t awkward in any way, they were both happy to be in their thoughts.
He took a different track from the one they had followed when she was with Rab and then Murdo. They were going away from the estate, up through the forest and then down again.
Eventually they came out of the trees and suddenly they could see a lochan.
The change of scene took Caro aback. Where there’d been trees and tracks and the occasional glimpse of a mountain, now there was an expanse of green broken up by the occasional boulder and beyond that the water, and beyond that a distant mountain range, catching the light where the sunshine hit their snowy tops. ‘Gosh! What a view. I wasn’t expecting that at all!’ said Caro, when she could speak.
‘You like it?’
She caught him looking at her, obviously wanting her to like it. ‘It’s stunning. And such a surprise.’
‘I’ve driven up the track and seen that view my whole life, on and off, and it still takes my breath away.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Come on. Time to get out and walk.’
‘I can’t believe there is still snow on the mountains.’
He smiled at her. ‘We have snow on the highest tops until the end of May up here. Early June, some years.’
‘Scotland really is a different country, isn’t it?’
‘It definitely is. I hope you’ll come to love it as much as I do.’
She didn’t ask him to explain this slightly curious remark – it was nicer not knowing.
Caro was glad of her boots and equally glad they were tightly laced. They made her ankles feel protected, as if they couldn’t twist. She strode out with confidence next to him. Considering he was tall and she wasn’t, she did well.
They had been walking along a path towards the lochan a little way when they came across a barbed-wire fence.
‘Can you manage?’ he asked. ‘I’ll hold the wire up for you.’
‘But should we go through it, if the path is blocked? Doesn’t it mean it belongs to someone who doesn’t want us here?’
‘It’s part of the original estate,’ said Alec. ‘It’s fine for us to walk on it. Oh, look!’ He pointed to a large brown bird of prey. ‘A hen harrier. Can you see it? It’s a male.’
He handed her a pair of binoculars she hadn’t even noticed he was wearing round his neck.
After a bit of searching she saw it. Mostly grey and white, it had a ghostly quality. ‘Gosh. I’ve never seen one before.’
‘They’re quite rare. We just have to hope this one is safe.’
‘Why wouldn’t it be? I wouldn’t take it on!’
He laughed. ‘Nor would I. Those talons are amazingly strong. Currently this is a nature reserve. Everything is protected. But that’s going to change.’
Caro was about to ask how when he held up his hand. ‘Hear that? Curlews. They’ll be going down to the shoreline to feed.’
‘I love the sound they make,’ she said.
‘Yes. The Gaelic word for them is supposedly onomatopoeic and sounds like their cry, but I must admit I’ve never managed to make it work in my head. Probably because my Gaelic isn’t good enough.’
‘But you seem to know a fair bit about birds.’
‘I know the wildlife of this area well. I’ve been watching it all my life – with a few gaps.’
He went on to tell her how otters could be seen in the early mornings and at dusk, how deer came down to drink and what a large range of waders and other birds used the area.
‘It’s very special. I feel very privileged to see it.’ Caro didn’t add, because it didn’t seem necessary, that she also felt desperately sad at the prospect of it all changing.
‘Still! I’m sure it will make an absolutely fabulous golf links,’ Alec said bitterly.
‘I can’t believe anyone would do that to a place like this,’ said Caro. ‘I mean you can play golf anywhere, can’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never played it.’ Then he smiled. ‘Come on. We shouldn’t get gloomy. We must make sure you have a good time while you’re here. Even if your accommodation isn’t what you expected. It was very kind of you not to tell Murdo about that, by the way.’ He paused. ‘Why didn’t you?’
Caro shrugged. ‘I thought there was probably a good reason and now I’m very much hoping that you’re going to tell me what it is.’
He looked down at her, his craggy, interesting face half amused, half horribly caught out. ‘Would you hate me if I didn’t?’
‘Would it matter if I did?’
‘Are you one of those annoying people who always answer a question with a question? The fact is, I’m developing a little business and it’s something my father would hate but I can do it alongside running the estate. I worry that if I told you what it was you’d have to tell him if he asked you any probing questions.’
‘Is he likely to do that?’ She was intrigued and a bit horrified.
‘I don’t suppose so. I just don’t want to take the risk. It’s not really so much that he’ll shout at me – although they’d hear it in Edinburgh if he did – it’s that I don’t want him being upset. Being angry isn’t good for him now he’s so elderly and a bit frail.’
‘I’ll try not to see that as an excuse for not telling me.’
‘It’s a reason, rather. Now, let’s enjoy our walk while we can. You’re not going to be here for ever and possibly neither is this perfect bit of land. I’d like to appreciate both while I’ve got the opportunity.’
He took her arm and together they negotiated the rocks and small hillocks that were dotted among the grass while she took in the fact that he’d paid her a compliment.
‘So your father sold this bit of land, then?’ she asked when she felt she could sound casual.
‘Yes. It happened while I was away on the oil rigs. I was persona non grata with Murdo. But then I came home and found he and his factor had done it, without consulting me.’
‘Presumably Murdo needed the money for something. The smokery? Some new enterprise? Everyone needs to diversify these days.’
‘The smokery would have managed just fine without the money from this land and the house certainly hasn’t seen any of it.’
‘There must have been some reason—’
‘Indeed. I’m just not sure what the reason is – was. I hope he didn’t do it just to prove the estate was his to do what he liked with until he actually dies.’
Alec spoke calmly, without expression but Caro could sense the bitterness. ‘That does sound quite extreme.’
‘It does. But if that was his reason, it worked. My father was very angry with me for studying chemistry instead of estate management. He didn’t think – doesn’t think – that there’s anything anyone needs to know about the world that can’t be learnt here. But I’m afraid my interests do extend a bit beyond all this.’ He made a sweeping gesture. ‘Although on a day like today, I sometimes wonder at it myself.’
If she’d known him better she might have told him she thought his daughter Rowan felt a bit like that too.
‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,’ Alec went on. ‘You must be easy to talk to.’
‘I am generally considered to be a good listener,’ she conceded.
‘And I’m probably feeling bad because I won’t tell you any more about the cottage.’
‘You’re worried that my loyalty is to Murdo? And that I might tell him what you’re up to?’
He smiled. ‘I suppose so.’ They walked on in silence for a few paces. ‘Your frankness is – refreshing. My ex-wife couldn’t be straightforward about anything, even the simplest things.’
‘It does get me into trouble sometimes,’ admitted Caro. ‘My daughter says I don’t have a filter and whatever is in my head comes out of my mouth. And yet, actually, I’m very good at keeping secrets.’
<
br /> Over the next couple of weeks, Caro spent time learning her way round Heather’s kitchen and storerooms (with generally acceptable results), dragging up all she’d ever known about sport, pop music and the periodic table for Pointless, helping Rowan with her art (which was mainly saying, ‘Golly, you’re good!’) and sharpening up her chess game.
She also drove and rambled over the estate, getting to know the tracks and the wildlife. She even helped out at the smokery one afternoon.
Then, one beautiful morning in mid-May, she happened to find herself walking through the woods to the cottage. Curiosity overcame her like a disease. She ran up the path and tried the front door. It was unlocked.
Like Goldilocks, she couldn’t resist and went in.
The cottage opened directly into the main room which had stone, whitewashed walls and a small window each side. A huge fireplace with a wood burner took up most of one wall and there was a narrow staircase in the corner. A sofa was pulled up near the fire and there were bookcases in the alcoves next to the fireplace. Window seats showed how thick the walls were and long, woollen curtains were obviously designed to keep the cold out. It was her dream Scottish cottage, the little house she had imagined before she came up here. Had she not been invested in her job and the area for other reasons, she might have shed a little tear for what could have been. A plastic caravan was no substitute for this gem.
‘The kitchen might be horrible,’ she muttered to herself. ‘It’ll be a little lean-to, cold and ill equipped.’
But it wasn’t horrible. It was fairly chilly but there was a range cooker, unlit, and if that had been burning it would have been toasty warm. There was a mantelpiece over it on which were a selection of candlesticks, old plates and some very wood-smoked pictures. There was a scrubbed wooden table, big enough for the four wooden chairs that were drawn up to it. Like the living room, it was perfect.
‘Your excuse for keeping me out of here had better be bloody good, Alec McLean,’ she said aloud.
She turned and looked back and saw rows of shelves on the wall opposite the window. On the shelves were little bottles with pipette tops, carefully labelled. She leant in and read some of them. ‘Hedione’, ‘Oud’, ‘Neroli’ – what on earth were those?