Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 13

Back in the relative safety of the library, Sebastian tried to find a flaw in Jess’s suggestion. It was breathtaking in its simplicity, and it occurred to him that she had cut through all the crap in one sentence.

Just sell it.

Yes, he’d mooted the idea that someone like Edward Ellingham, with millions of pounds of investment muscle at his fingertips, might show an interest in buying the castle, possibly the grounds and forest as well. But that was all it had been. An idea. A way to shock the rest of his family out of the lethargy of the life they’d been living. To shake things up and force everyone to reevaluate.

Could it really be that simple? To make contact and invite this Ellingham character to the castle, float the idea with him and see what happened?

Before Jess had answered her phone call, before he’d shut himself away in the library to think, she’d added to the simplicity of her solution.

‘Sell this place,’ she’d said, finger hovering over the phone. ‘Settle all the debts and get back to what you really want to be doing. This building gets the investment it needs and goes on to do a different job. So do you. Everyone’s a winner.’

Sebastian swallowed. When she said it out loud, it sounded straightforward, but he knew it would be far from that. The earls of Kirkshield had lived here for almost a thousand years. Each generation was brought up to carry the title forward, with the castle, lands and tenanted properties entrusted into each earl’s safekeeping. So, although in a legal sense he did own everything, the unspoken understanding was that it was only ever entrusted to the current generation, to be kept safe for the next. And so on, ad infinitum.

To wilfully destroy something which had existed for nine hundred plus years was not a decision to be taken lightly. Although the villagers mostly rented their properties on lifetime tenancy arrangements, and so would be safe in their properties, there would be no such security for their employment. And where would his mother and Olivia go? In time, how would he explain his actions to his children?

There was no reason why Jess should understand his dilemma – no reason why she should care, either – except that, somehow, he hoped she would. Something about her carefree attitude, combined with her genuine, unfiltered suggestions, had caught his attention. And although he hadn’t caught hers in return – Robbie Keel seemed to have managed that already – there had been something about Jess, something which made him suddenly pleased he hadn’t managed to find anyone local who needed a housekeeper, and that she might stay a while longer. She had a lightness to her which had captured Sebastian’s attention, a brightness which seemed to go some way towards balancing out his shade.

Back in the kitchen, Jess grinned as she pressed her mobile to her ear, plopping herself onto one of the kitchen chairs and running her free hand over Digby’s ears.

‘Hi Aunt Vivi. How are you?’ Her question went unanswered.

‘You will never guess what I’m about to tell you,’ Vivi said, pausing long enough to give Jess time to have a go at divining the answer. She and her aunt played this game whenever Vivi had exciting news. Even if sometimes her exciting news was nothing more exciting than that time the neighbour’s cat had been stuck in another neighbour’s shed overnight and was found only because somebody’d needed one of the tins of paint stored inside.

When Jess had told Vivi that on a sliding scale of mundane to epic, the cat story scored a weak 2.5, the pitch of Vivi’s voice had soared by a good two octaves as she explained to Jess, as though she were a toddler, that if nobody had needed the paint, that cat could have been in there for weeks – months even – and all they would have found would have been a dried up husk of what had once been Princess Leia. And what’s more, Princess Leia was almost a pure Blue Persian, with only a small bit of local moggy in her makeup, so there would have been no way she would have been able to chew her way through the wooden walls to escape either, not with such a flat face.

Jess toyed with the idea of teasing her aunt with a variety of preposterous guesses as to the nature of her exciting news, but in the end, she played it straight.

‘No, you’re right, I’m sure I won’t be able to guess. Why don’t you just tell me?’

‘Oh, before I get to that, how is my Digby?’

‘Are you trying to big up your news even more by stalling?’ Jess asked, her amusement audible. ‘He’s absolutely fine. Loving the Highland air.’

Jess glanced down at the dog. Maybe it was wishful thinking to say his breathing had eased since they’d been in Scotland, but he didn’t seem to be quite as wheezy as normal. Perhaps life in the Highlands really did suit Digby.

‘Well, that’s excellent. Because you’ll never guess what …’

‘No,’ Jess said with a laugh. ‘I won’t. So, tell me before the anticipation kills me.’

‘I was talking to an old nursing friend, Jenny, the other day, swapping notes on my hip. You won’t know her, but we worked together at Leehurst General for years.’

Jess gave her aunt a non-committal mumble in the hope that the point of mentioning Jenny would become clearer.

‘I was telling her all about your adventure in the Highlands. And then we suddenly remembered Isla.’

‘Isla?’ Jess slid from her seat, setting the Aga kettle on one of the hotplates to make some tea. It sounded like this might be a long conversation.

‘We trained together a million years ago at nursing college in London. Four of us shared a flat – me, Jenny, Isla and someone else whose name escapes me. I do remember that girl had very ordinary brown hair – a bit like yours – was always trying to liven it up with rollers and suchlike. Never made any difference.’

Jess allowed the slur to pass unchallenged. She had learnt years ago that Vivi meant no offence with what could be interpreted as personal criticisms. She saw it as stating fact. Vivi took no prisoners with any aspect of life, and the people around her learnt to take her or leave her – because there was no changing her.

Vivi rattled on, ‘Well, we used to get the bus to St Thomas’ Hospital. I sat with Isla because we always shared a copy of the day’s newspaper, spread it across both our laps so we could read it. Funny what you suddenly remember, isn’t it?’

Jess dropped a couple of teabags into a teapot, glad Vivi couldn’t see that she hadn’t warmed the pot first. ‘That’s lovely, Vivi, but why are you telling me all this?’

‘Well, Jenny reminded me that Isla came from Scotland. Somewhere near Inverness. I mean, her name’s a bit of a giveaway, I suppose. Isla. At least it was back then – now people just call their children all sorts. I heard somebody shouting at their child in the park not long ago – the little boy was called Leaf. Can you believe that? Jess, promise me you won’t call your son Leaf, will you? Over my cold, dead body.’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of Lenin.’

‘As in the founder of communism, Lenin?’

‘Or maybe Balthazar, it’s got a certain ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘No, I do not.’ Vivi’s voice reached supersonic levels. Sometimes it was such fun to wind Vivi up.

‘I’m joking. Plus, I think Leif is a Scandinavian name. Was it really ‘Leaf’ you heard, or Leif, like “safe”? Maybe they were Norwegian?’

‘Well, maybe that was it, I can’t quite remember now. But as I was saying, Jenny said she thought Isla had gone back up north, and she managed to find her number somehow – don’t ask me how, Jenny is endlessly resourceful. Anyway, to cut a long story short—’

‘That’ll be the day, Aunt Vivi,’ Jess said.

‘Har de har, very funny. Anyway, this is the bit you won’t be able to believe – Isla now lives in Kirkshield.’ Vivi left a dramatic pause, time for Jess to absorb the magnitude of the coincidence.

‘In Kirkshield – in the village, you mean?’

‘That’s exactly what I mean. She married someone called Craig Macwarren, apparently, and they’ve retired into what was his parents’ cottage. Actually, it belongs to your fancy-pants earl, but still, you know what I mean. They think of it as their own. I spoke to her for ages – I thought my arm was going to drop off I was holding the phone to my ear for so long—’

‘You’ve never thought of using speakerphone?’ Jess suggested.

‘That’s all well and good for you youngsters with perfect hearing,’ Vivi replied – curtly, if Jess was any judge of her vocal tones. ‘Not so good for the rest of us. Plus, I always think those people who hold their phones up in front of their faces in order to shout at the poor person at the other end of the call do look as if they require medical intervention.’

Jess stifled a laugh. ‘Fair enough. So, Isla and her husband live in Kirkshield village. Would you like me to go and say hello?’

‘It’s much better than that,’ Vivi said, excitement clamouring for attention in her voice. ‘They’ve invited me to come and visit. I’ll be with you this time tomorrow.’

‘Wait, what?’

‘Are you on speakerphone, perchance? Can’t you hear me very well?’ Vivi was as sharp as ever, mocking Jess as she repeated herself, speaking purposefully slowly and loudly. ‘I said they’ve invited me to stay and I’m arriving tomorrow.’

‘Sarcasm. It’s the lowest form of wit,’ Jess said. Vivi hooted with laughter. ‘I heard you perfectly well the first time, Vivi. What concerns me is how you’re going to get here, with your hip?’

‘Well, I’m not leaving it behind,’ Vivi said. ‘The doctor says I’m doing extremely well, it’s healing perfectly, and she says the train journey probably won’t kill me. So, I’ve booked my tickets and polished my walking frame. I’m all ready to go.’

‘Have you got someone lined up to get you to Kirkshield from the station?’ Jess asked. ‘It’s quite a trek.’

‘All organised. Isla’s husband is coming to get me.’

‘And you’re sure you’re up to the journey?’

‘What have I told you about fussing?’

When Vivi put her mind to something, it tended to happen. She’d often regaled Jess with the tale of how she’d continued nursing in paediatrics even though she and her husband had been unsuccessful with having a child of their own, how she’d turned her hand to running the Home From Home agency and, subsequent to the premature death of her husband, had decided to foster. In lighter moments, she told Jess that replacing her husband with a foster child was nothing more than swapping one child for another, but Jess had grown to understand how much Vivi had loved him. She’d learnt so much about people and emotions from Vivi, including how people tended to be truly disparaging only of those they cared for, because they were the ones worth bothering to think up insults for.

If Vivi had told her once, she’d told her a thousand times that she couldn’t believe her luck when she’d been lumbered with Jess. Not once did Vivi specify whether she considered the luck to be good, or bad, and Jess supposed it probably varied, depending on the stage of their relationship. But she liked to believe she was one of the people Vivi truly cared for – because love definitely went in the opposite direction.

Anyway, Jess didn’t bother to argue further with her, as she had learnt long since that a Vivi decision was exactly that. No room for manoeuvre. So even though she wasn’t sure such a long train ride was the best thing for a newly knitted hip, Vivi was coming to Scotland.

‘Digby will be absolutely thrilled to see you,’ she said instead, aware she’d also completely omitted to tell Vivi any of the current castle drama. Even if Sebastian did sell, she supposed it wouldn’t happen overnight, so maybe her job would be safe through to the end of the original contract after all.

‘And I can’t wait to see him. Although I might have to ask you to continue to walk him for me, if that’s all right?’

Jess had a flashback to her first day at the castle, to how Digby had taken her, along with a tray full of crockery, to the floor. There was no way Vivi should be doing anything other than pet her dog for a while yet. ‘That’s no problem. We’ve become great friends.’

‘You’re not bribing him into liking you, are you?’ The stern edge was back in Vivi’s voice. ‘Cupboard love means nothing, you know.’

‘No treats, as requested.’

The kettle began to sing, and Jess poured water over the teabags, committing another tea-making sin as she poked at them with a long-handled spoon before shoving on the lid.

‘He has made some friends, though,’ Jess said, distracted for a moment as she stared through the window in the direction of Robbie’s cottage. ‘The gamekeeper’s spaniels.’

‘Well, he is the most handsome of men,’ Vivi said.

Jess hoped she covered her momentary confusion well enough, her thought pattern ricocheting from how on earth her aunt knew anything about Robbie, let alone how good-looking he was, to the realisation she was talking about her own dog. Heat racked up again in Jess’s cheeks at the way her thoughts had strayed, yet again, towards the unobtainable gamekeeper.

‘You’re right about that. He really is,’ Jess said.

Dee had spent far too long at Robbie’s cottage. Once they’d cleared up all the broken glass, and had an actual cup of tea, Dee knew she should think about returning to the castle. She’d popped upstairs and was in Robbie’s tiny first-floor bathroom when she heard his dogs barking, followed by a knock on the kitchen door. Unsure about how Robbie might feel about his visitor seeing her emerge from upstairs, Dee sank onto the top step, out of sight, folding her arms around her knees as she listened.

‘Hi Jess, come away in,’ Robbie said.

‘Thanks. I brought you some cake – Sebastian’s the only one who seems to eat any of my baking up at the castle, and I didn’t want it to go to waste. Did you like the brownies?’

Dee shuffled down another couple of steps, aware she was behaving like a peeping Tom as she shifted so she could see the two of them. The little dog was there, too, snuffling at something on the flagstones by the door.

‘Aye, thanks. They were chocolate heaven,’ Robbie said, his smile wide and genuine.

‘That’s good. I thought they were a bit burnt, truth be told. I just popped in to tell you my aunt’s coming to visit. Turns out she has an old friend in the village – Isla Macwarren?’

‘Oh, aye. Craig and Isla live in one of the cottages along from the pub. She’s not staying at the castle with you, then?’

Dee could see a frown crossing Jess’s face. ‘No. I wasn’t sure about that. Although she does own the agency I work for, so she’ll probably want to make sure my employers are happy with me.’

There was something weighted in the way Jess spoke which left Dee feeling as though the housekeeper might be aware of the estate’s difficulties – might even know more than Dee did. It wouldn’t be the first time a housekeeper had had the upper hand on her.

‘They’d better be on their best behaviour, then,’ Robbie said, and Jess grinned, nodding.

‘She’s a firecracker, that’s for sure.’

Jess rested a casual hand on Robbie’s arm as she took her leave, the pair of them chattering and laughing like they’d known one another for years. They seemed so very at ease with one another, and it stabbed at Dee like a Sgian Dubh . She bit hard at her lip to stop herself from clattering down the stairs and reclaiming him. But it was not her place to reclaim anything. Robbie wasn’t hers. Robbie could do whatever he wanted with whomever he pleased. And Dee knew she was being completely irrational, but this was the castle’s temporary housekeeper touching him. It pressed all Dee’s buttons. The image of Elsa, the previous housekeeper, with her dress unbuttoned and her hair all messed up and her face panicky as she screamed at Dee to help her save her naked, philandering, dying husband, flashed with way too much vividity across Dee’s memory.

Rocking slightly, Dee squeezed her eyes tight until the image faded. When she dared to look again, Jess had hold of her little dog’s lead and was at the door, with Robbie holding it wide as he suggested she come back another time for a brew and a chat.

When he closed the door and Dee was sure Jess had left, when she’d managed to calm her breathing, she descended the rest of the stairs.

‘That was Jess. Brought me some cake.’ Robbie waved a hand at a tin on the table.

Dee could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She was being ridiculous but couldn’t seem to calm herself. She almost asked him what he thought of Jess. Had he noticed how young and lively and pretty she was? She stayed silent at the realisation she feared what he might say in response.

‘Now, Dee. I have a question for you.’

‘Have you?’

‘Aye. I wondered if you might like to come with me tomorrow afternoon, take the dogs for a run and maybe have a wee picnic together?’

‘Picnic?’ she said, disorientated by such a gentle request. It took her a beat to process the idea, and Robbie misinterpreted, glancing away.

‘Or you might be busy up at the castle, I expect,’ he said.

‘No. Not at all. A picnic sounds perfect. Yes, please.’

‘I know just the spot; it’s quiet. Nobody will see us.’ He frowned and Dee wanted to say she didn’t care who saw them, not any longer. The shadow was gone, the cage door was open and she could be friends with whoever she wanted. But then Dee had another thought. Maybe she’d misinterpreted and it was him who didn’t want anyone to see them together – perhaps he didn’t want Jess to know. That thought was enough to keep Dee’s lips still.