Sealed With a Kiss

by Rachael Lucas

  ‘Well, that’s us told.’ Roderick shrugged on his coat. ‘I’m sure you’d like to get back home, but if you’re not busy, there’s something I’d like to show you up at Selkie Bay.’

  ‘Well, I did have a hot date with the best of Doris Day and a duvet, but I’m sure she’d let me off.’

  ‘Come on, then.’ He took her arm, in a curiously old-fashioned gesture. ‘I’ll take you up there, but, before I do, you look like you could do with a cup of coffee. Hard night, was it?’ He couldn’t help a smile.

  ‘We accidentally drank a couple of bottles of wine.’

  ‘Terrible when that happens. Just leapt down your throat, did they?’ His tone was arch. Opening the door, he once again had to shove a newspaper, dog leads, a waterproof coat and assorted detritus onto the back seat before Kate could sit down. She watched in silence. Considering how posh his house was, the Land Rover was a disgrace. She climbed in.

  They made their way down the drive, rhododendron leaves smacking wetly against the windows as Roderick dodged potholes by steering onto the overgrown verge. At one time the grass here had been manicured, maintained regularly by a team of gardeners. Kate had seen photographs of the estate in its prime along the walls of the kitchen – big black-and-white pictures of Roderick’s relatives playing tennis in 1930s whites. The tennis court was completely wild now, the red ash surface swallowed up with mossy grass, the gate rusted shut.

  ‘I must get this drive sorted.’ He was talking half to himself. ‘There always seems to be something else to pay for, though.’

  Kate slid a look at him, sideways. The muscle in his cheek was jumping again, and his jaw was tense. She reached out, trying to placate him. ‘Hopefully we’ll get some money coming in, once the cottages and bunk-house are rented out; that’ll make a difference, won’t it?’

  ‘I hope so.’ He sighed. ‘The island economy is in a hopeless state. Anything we can do to shore it up will help.’

  He pulled up outside the cafe, opening the door for Kate and leaving the car unlocked. After numerous episodes of Susan, Morag and Jean all laughing at Kate assiduously locking the cottage every time she left it, she’d learned that on the island security seemed pretty low on the priority list.

  ‘There are only three ferries a day going off the island, so I think we’d notice if someone was making away with our belongings,’ Jean had explained, laughing. ‘And I canna see anyone stealing a car – where would they hide it?’

  ‘No Bruno.’ Roderick read the sign on the window. ‘Closed due to staff shortages, my foot. He’ll be watching the football up at the hotel bar.’

  He fanned out his keys, selected one and opened the cafe door.

  ‘Do you have a key for every building on the island?’

  Roderick looked at her with curiosity. ‘Why d’you say that?’

  ‘Someone went into my cottage and got my clothes when I fell. And now you’re letting yourself into a cafe.’

  ‘Well, I am the Laird of Duntarvie.’ He flicked his hair out of his eyes, turning on the lights.

  Without seeing his face, Roderick’s tone was impossible to judge. Seriously? Kate bristled. Just when she thought he’d unbuttoned a little.

  Roderick fiddled with the set of keys, releasing one and placing it on the Formica counter of the cafe. ‘Just as well you’ll be working outside most of the time, on the cottage redevelopment. If you can keep your desk up at Duntarvie in some sort of order, then nobody’ll need to know how untidy you are in secret. Unless, that is, they end up in your bedroom.’

  She was just about to open her mouth and tell him he was a raging hypocrite, considering the state of his car.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking. It’s a disgrace. But you can talk – did you simply tip all your bags upside down as soon as you arrived at Bruar Cottage?’

  Now he was looking down at her and laughing. He’d obviously been the one who’d rescued her things from the cottage when she first arrived.

  Just because he’s the Lord of the Manor, she told herself, you don’t have to swoon every time he says something vaguely nice. We’re not in a Disney film.

  ‘Take a seat. I’ll make you a coffee.’ He motioned to one of the high stools by the counter. She perched on the red leather, tucking one foot behind the other on the metal bar. He switched on the Wurlitzer and the empty cafe filled with the sound of Otis Redding.

  ‘Don’t look so surprised.’ Roderick was measuring beans, tipping them into the machine, filling the room with the delicious aroma of freshly ground coffee. Kate sat mesmerized, watching his hands twisting and flicking, swirling the milk in the metal jug as the steam hissed. ‘There.’ He handed her a cup of coffee, a leaf design swirled into the foam, and looked at her expectantly as she took a sip.

  ‘It’s perfect.’

  He reached forward, wiping a smudge of foam from the end of her nose with a fingertip.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Kate, swiping at her nose again.

  His dark eyes caught her grey ones, and her stomach jolted once again.

  ‘Don’t be. I always end up with coffee on my nose.’ He was unsettling her. That was twice in one afternoon that she’d found herself distracted by her boss. There was something about him. Charisma perhaps, she thought, taking a sip and surveying him surreptitiously. Or maybe it was just a conditioned response to the landed gentry, which was a weird thought. Let’s face it, a hundred years ago she’d probably have been working as a chambermaid, not being served coffee by the owner of the big house. But he did seem remarkably human for someone whose relatives probably hung out with the royal family.

  He walked round to her side of the bar and sat down, taking a drink.

  ‘So, you’re a barista, as well as lord of all you survey?’

  ‘I spent most of my time in here as a teenager,’ he looked down into his cup. ‘It was pretty miserable at home when we moved here from Oxfordshire.’

  ‘Your mum.’ The words were out before Kate could stop them. Without thinking, she put her hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face.

  ‘Thank you.’ His voice held a note of surprise, as if he hadn’t expected sympathy.

  ‘My dad died in an accident when I was ten. He argued with Mum, and stormed out of the house in a temper one morning.’ Kate found herself filling the space with explanations. ‘He was hit by a car while crossing the road and was killed instantly.’

  ‘So you know.’ He reached forward, fiddling with the wooden coffee stirrers, snapping several into pieces, creating tiny, bonfire-like heaps.

  ‘I do.’ Kate’s voice, after a long silence, was flat. She suddenly felt a wave of homesickness for a life that hadn’t existed for fifteen years.

  Roderick smiled at her – a sad smile of shared loss and understanding.

  He scooped up the shredded coffee stirrers into his hand. ‘I’m sure Bruno only taught me how to make coffee because it kept me out of his hair. I spent most of the time being picked on at school for being posh. This was my escape.’

  Roderick pushed back his chair, gathering their now-empty cups. He wiped down the surface, practised hands banging the coffee out of the filter, clearing up all evidence of their visit. Kate looked on. He was completely absorbed in what he was doing, happy in his work. His final act was to chalk a note for Bruno on the blackboard behind the bar: ‘Hope the best team won.’

  They climbed out of the car at Selkie Bay. In the distance Kate could see that the shingle beach was studded all over with rocks. Pulling on his coat, Roderick passed her a spare pair of gloves.

  ‘It’ll be freezing down there, and we might be a while.’

  They climbed over rocks freckled with lichen, and down onto the rough sand. The tide was out, and seagulls were swooping down, searching for leftover morsels. As they walked across the beach, Kate realized that most of the rocks were moving. She turned to Roderick with a quizzical expression.

  ‘A pod of seals hauled up here a cou
ple of weeks ago. I thought you’d like to see the pups.’

  ‘Oh! I saw some on the shore below Duntarvie House, the first morning I woke up here. They’re so beautiful, aren’t they?’

  ‘I’m glad you like them.’ Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some binoculars. ‘We can’t get too close,’ he explained. ‘They can give you a nasty bite if they’re upset, and at this time of the year they’re pupping and going into moult.’

  ‘I had no idea that seals moulted.’

  ‘They do. Makes them really grumpy. It makes me laugh, watching them snap at each other.’ Roderick was scanning the beach, searching. ‘When I wasn’t getting under Bruno’s feet, I was up here, watching the seals. Look!’

  He passed the binoculars to Kate, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her round gently until she was facing east.

  ‘There’s a cow with an unusual white splash on her back, can you see?’

  ‘A cow? On the beach?’

  ‘A female seal is known as a cow. A male is a bull, and the youngsters are pups.’ There was laughter in his voice. ‘Look, can you see where those gulls are landing?’

  ‘I see her – she’s rolling,’ Kate adjusted the binoculars slightly, homing in on a shape beyond the adult seal. ‘Oh, it’s a baby!’

  The pup was covered in a shaggy white coat. As Kate watched, it yawned, showing a coral-pink mouth.

  ‘I’ve seen that cow here every year since I was fifteen. Seals can live for thirty years.’

  Kate was transfixed. Ten minutes later she handed the binoculars back to Roderick. ‘Sorry, I’ve hogged them. It’s just that the seals are so beautiful. I could watch them for hours.’

  Roderick raked his fingers through his hair and smiled lopsidedly. ‘I thought you might think I was a bit of a geek.’ He looked awkward, and suddenly young.

  ‘Not at all. I spent my childhood collecting beetles.’

  ‘As in creepy-crawlies, or as in toy cars?’

  ‘Bugs.’ She had no idea why she was sharing this information with him. It had been years since she’d even thought about her little collection of pet pests. ‘I know, it sounds a bit bonkers. I kept them in little boxes and constantly got into trouble for having them escape all over the kitchen. Not quite so exotic, but we didn’t have many seals in Essex.’

  ‘Oh, you do,’ Roderick said, boyish in his enthusiasm. ‘I did some work down there a while back – you just need to head over to Foulness and . . . ’ He paused for breath. ‘Sorry. Anyway, as I was saying, about being a bit of a geek . . . ’

  Kate laughed.

  ‘Come on then.’ He strode ahead, beckoning her to follow. ‘I’ll show you my favourite place for watching them. It’s where I’m going to have the hide built – the cottages aren’t far from here, look.’ He pointed to some grey stone buildings up on the hill.

  They were much closer to the seals now, but hidden from sight by a stack of boulders. Creeping forwards, Kate slipped, falling backwards into Roderick’s arms.

  ‘Sorry, I missed my footing.’ She pulled away, embarrassed.

  ‘I’m not complaining.’

  His amused tone sent an unexpected prickle of heat through Kate, flushing her face scarlet. She was suddenly very interested in the binocular straps, adjusting them with great concentration.

  As if nothing had happened, Roderick pointed out the noses of a group of seals, bobbing up and down in the shallow water.

  ‘They only sleep for ninety seconds at a time. That’s a meeting of Insomniacs Anonymous out there.’ He laughed. ‘Come on, I’ll take you up the hill and show you what we’re dealing with.’

  The cottages were tumbledown, but beautiful. Tussocks of grass grew in between the paving stones, and the little road that led to them was strewn with rusted, discarded farm machinery. The long, low byre, which was to become the student bunkhouse, was still full of straw.

  ‘It’s like a rural Marie Celeste.’

  ‘It’s sad, isn’t it?’ He gestured to the cottage in front of them, before pushing at the wooden door. Long shards of paint crackled to the ground. Inside, the cottage was floored with ancient linoleum, and the walls were covered in dated floral paper.

  ‘This was lived in by a tenant farmer, who died when my father was still alive.’ He held open the door to what had been the sitting room and kitchen. ‘The other was rented to a family who decided to come and live the good life.’ His voice was mocking. They made their way back through the door, standing on the step, taking in the view of Selkie Bay.

  ‘And what happened to them?’

  ‘One cold winter, and they’d had it. They were determined to be self-sufficient, but that only works if you’re willing to eat a very limited diet.’

  Kate gasped. ‘They died?’

  ‘No.’ Roderick burst out laughing, startling a crow. It spiralled into the air, squawking in disgust. ‘They legged it off the island. They got snowed in over here for about three days and had to live on turnips and potatoes. I think they’re living in an eco-house in Findhorn now.’

  ‘There’s a lot of work to do here, isn’t there?’ Kate poked at the wood of the window frame, which was spongy with age. ‘So, working in island time, we’re thinking these will be finished by about Christmas?’

  ‘No chance! I’ve got a provisional booking from Glasgow University marine-biology department for next June.’ The excitement was written on his face. ‘My friend Sian Cowley is head lecturer there, and they’re really keen to get over here and have a base for their studies. They want to see the behaviour of the common seals when they haul in to pup, and come back again this time next year to look at the grey seals.’

  Kate rubbed her shoulder, absent-mindedly. ‘Well, now I’m in one piece, perhaps it’s time I started doing the work I’m supposed to do?’

  ‘That’s a great idea. Now let’s collect that puppy of yours from Susan’s and get you home.’

  5

  Fireworks

  Kate found Roderick in the library, tapping a pen against his forehead in irritation.

  ‘You okay?’ He spun round to face her in the big leather chair. He rubbed his unshaven chin thoughtfully, not waiting for an answer. ‘These grant applications will be the death of me.’

  ‘We’ve had a report from some walkers of some sort of plastic netting washed up down on the shore. Can you take a look?’

  ‘If it gets me out of this, definitely.’ Roderick picked up his coat from the back of the battered leather sofa where he’d thrown it earlier. His dogs, eager for something to do, leapt to attention. ‘Come, if you like?’ His voice was casual. ‘This time of year you might see the first of the Canada geese arriving. It’s pretty impressive.’

  The fire-regulation documents that she was reading on the computer were pretty poor competition, and she’d done enough for today in any case.

  ‘Give me a second to grab my coat. I’ll meet you outside.’

  She shut down the laptop, waking Willow from her sleep with a jingling shake of her lead. By the time she made it outside, Roderick had already loaded the dogs into the back of the car. He held the door open for Kate, motioning for her to climb in. His manners were impeccable.

  ‘I could do with checking how Billy’s doing, on the floors in the cottages – could we stop in on the way back?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’ He turned the key in the ignition.

  Driving up towards the south of the island, they stopped the car to spy on a magnificent grey seal, which sat motionless, perched on a rock.

  ‘She’s on the equivalent of a coffee break,’ Roderick explained. ‘I’d say she’s left her pup on the shore there and has nipped out for something to eat and a bit of a relax. They do it quite often.’

  ‘And what happens to the pups?’

  Roderick passed Kate the binoculars, sliding his seat back so that she could look past him. She leaned across for a closer look.

  ‘Well, left to their own devices, they just snooze. The trouble comes, of course
, if people spot a pup on the shore and assume it’s been abandoned. As soon as they touch it, there’s trouble.’

  ‘Because the mother attacks?’ Catching a scent of his aftershave, Kate had a sudden sense of just how closely she was leaning across him. She sat up with a start, passing back the binoculars, feeling awkward.

  He looked at her with an amused expression. ‘No, because she abandons the pup, and then you’re in danger of it starving to death. The trouble is it’s hard to explain to people that, once you touch that cute fluffy seal pup, you mark it with your scent and the mother won’t go near it.’

  ‘So rule number one is: never go near a seal pup?’

  ‘You’ve got it.’ He leaned over to put the binoculars into the glove compartment, just grazing her knee with his hand as he did so. Kate felt her heart thump slightly out of time as they drove in silence towards the furthest beach on the island.

  Nethervannan was completely deserted, the walkers who had reported the trouble having long gone. One hand on his binoculars, Roderick scanned the water line. The tide was low.

  ‘There it is. It’s a bit of a walk – are you up for it?’ He turned to Kate, who was fastening her coat against the biting wind.

  ‘Of course.’ She turned to summon Willow, but she was already a black speck, hurtling away to chase the waves with one of Roderick’s Labradors in pursuit.

  ‘Willow! Heel!’ Kate yelled into the wind, hopelessly.

  ‘Boris, leave it.’ Hearing his master, Boris galloped back immediately. Willow, less impressively, carried on towards the water’s edge.

  ‘She’s a model of disobedience.’ Roderick laughed as Kate rummaged in her pocket for a treat, hoping to bribe the puppy back. Training was going well, but, faced with the excitement of a long stretch of beach, and a tide line scattered with the flotsam of an early winter storm, there was no competition.

  Roderick tossed a stick towards the water, watching as his two black dogs pelted after it. With neither of them in a hurry to get back to work, he and Kate walked down to the shore in companionable silence.

  It had been a month since Roderick had first shown Kate the buildings, and in that time workmen had gutted the two cottages, filling skips with ancient furniture and knocking out partition walls. Billy, the kind-eyed joker Kate had met on the ferry, was screwing down floorboards, having stripped off the ugly linoleum. The floor underneath was mainly sound, and Billy had tidied it up with reclaimed oak boards.