Christmas at a Highland Castle

Chapter 27

With the entire family dressed for the late-afternoon chill and standing in the yard outside Robbie’s cottage, Sebastian hoisted the chainsaw onto his shoulder in an attempt to look rugged and mountain-man-like.

‘Are you safe with that thing?’ Olivia remarked.

‘Probably not,’ he said. ‘I’m just holding it out of the boys’ way until Robbie gets here. He’s going to take us out into the woods.’

‘He’d better hurry up, or it’ll be dark,’ Olivia added.

‘He has work to do, Olivia,’ Dee snapped.

‘Look, I think I see the truck coming. Look, boys – it’s Robbie.’ Freya pointed through the semi-darkness as Freddie and Karl bounced on the spot.

‘Hurry Robbie, hurry Robbie, hurry Robbie,’ they chanted.

‘Try saying that on a couple of tequilas,’ Candida said, earning herself a grin from Olivia.

Sebastian smiled, lowering the chainsaw carefully before he managed to lop off an ear. The boys were beside themselves with excitement and it was enough to raise even the most dismal of spirits. He’d wanted Jess to accompany them, too, but she’d cried off – told him she was busy in the kitchen. Freya had asked if the adults could have a spaghetti supper in front of a movie, something simple after all the travelling. He could easily have helped Jess with that and had told her as much. She’d still declined his invitation.

Jess probably wanted some time to herself, which she was completely entitled to. So why did it feel like a rejection?

Robbie took the chainsaw from him, loading it into the back of the truck, then dragged over a flat trailer with mesh sides and attached it to the tow-bar.

‘Shall I take you in two groups?’ he said, eying the ensemble. ‘I cannae fit you all in in one go.’

‘We’ll let you guys go and choose the tree. We thought we might go for a walk, instead,’ Candida said, gesturing to Olivia and herself. ‘We’ll see you back inside later to help with the decorating, though.’

With Sebastian sat up front with Robbie, and the boys squashed in between Freya and Dee in the back, they were ready to set off.

‘It’s like being a Freddie and Karl sandwich,’ Freddie said as Robbie threw the truck into gear and moved off.

‘Person sammich,’ Karl added, before bursting into peals of laughter.

Freddie thumped his brother. ‘I said that. Why do you always copy me?’

‘Which part of the plantation did you want to look in?’ Robbie said, raising his voice over the boys’ burgeoning wails of discontent.

‘The closest bit possible, please, Robbie,’ Freya said, her tone serene even as her two sons began to kick off.

To Sebastian’s eye, all the smaller fir trees looked much the same. As he stood there in the late-afternoon half-light and watched the sheer exuberant joy exhibited by Freya’s sons as they darted from tree to tree, trying to choose, it occurred to Sebastian that there might be a market for these trees. Perhaps there might be a role for them beyond providing cover for game birds. He was doing his best to make a mental list of money-making enterprises to be investigated – and maybe Christmas-tree farming should be added to the list. It was certainly worth consideration.

His mother remained quiet, almost withdrawn, as the boys chose the tree and Robbie cut it down, hoisting it onto his shoulder as though it were no weightier than a backpack. He headed for the truck and trailer, the two boys trotting along behind like well-behaved dogs.

‘What’s wrong with Mummy?’ Freya materialised at Sebastian’s arm, her tone muted.

‘I don’t know. She’s been up and down since … Well, you know.’

Freya shook her head. ‘No. It’s not that. She keeps staring at Robbie, then looking away. She looks really sad.’

Sebastian frowned, glancing at his mother. He hadn’t noticed her being anything more than her normal controlled self. What did Robbie have to do with it?

‘Will you talk to her?’ he said, aware it sounded as though he was palming the problem off onto his sister, which was – in effect – exactly what he was doing. But Freya had always had the knack of getting to the heart of whatever was the matter.

‘I’ll try,’ she said.

Dee was doing her best to appear normal, but her shoulders didn’t relax until Robbie had set up the tree in the drawing room and wished them all a good evening. His gaze had fallen on her before he’d left, but he’d dragged it away almost as quickly, the frown momentary before his expression again became inscrutable.

Perhaps it would have been better if she hadn’t accompanied them out into the wood, but she had wanted to spend precious time with her grandsons, wanted to try to get close to the sheer joy radiating out from them as they were told they could choose whichever tree they liked. She tried to soak it up, but instead it seemed to glance off her prickly exterior, leaving her feeling excluded.

The children were running on fumes by the time they set about decorating the tree; little Karl could barely keep his eyes open, and yet he was still resolute in his determination to hang every piece of tinsel. The boys would allow Olivia and Candida to help, but nobody else. If anyone else’s fingers so much as strayed into the decoration box, they were swiftly shoved out again by firm little hands and told off by fierce, hot-cheeked little faces.

Any moment now, something would go awry for one or other of them and they would lose the plot. Dee remembered it well from when her own children were a similar age. She allowed herself a smile as she watched her own three: Olivia, dancing around with a piece of tinsel hanging around her neck, making the little ones laugh; Sebastian checking everyone had a drink, making sure everybody was comfortable; Freya serene, quiet, but not missing a thing.

Dee’s smile faded. Were any of her children happy? Sebastian had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was desperately trying to find a way to cope. Olivia remained a challenge, and Dee wondered how much longer she would need before she began to open up about Candida. And then there was her baby, Freya. Was Freya truly happy with Christian? Or had she married him purely to escape Kirkshield? Freya was so inscrutable, so calm and balanced that it was almost impossible to know what was going on behind those pale eyes. She kept joy and pain equally well hidden, always had. And although she’d explained that business had delayed her husband – had it really? Or was the delay in his arrival evidence of a chink in the otherwise serene armour of her youngest daughter?

When Karl managed to put a bauble in the wrong place – according to Freddie – the extent of their exhaustion became clear, and Candida valiantly offered to help Freya sort them out and put them to bed.

With the screams dying away as the boys headed upstairs, Olivia flopped onto the sofa beside Dee. ‘She’s so much better with children than I am.’

‘You were doing very well,’ Dee said, her gaze flowing over the tree. ‘But I have to say that is making my eyes hurt. There’s no symmetry to it at all.’

Olivia laughed. ‘You never were any good at letting anyone else decorate the tree.’

‘Do you blame me?’ Dee gestured towards the mismatched ornaments, overloaded tinsel, and baubles and bells which rattled against one another.

‘Well, you’re not to touch it,’ Olivia said. ‘They’re bound to know if you move anything. We’ll get Robbie to put another one in your bedroom and you can have that one all to yourself.’

‘No, there’s no need for that,’ Dee said, a little too quickly.

‘I’m going to help Jess with supper,’ Sebastian said, standing abruptly. ‘Get Freya to choose a film when she’s back downstairs.’

Olivia’s gaze tracked him until he’d left the room. ‘What’s with him and Jess?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,’ Olivia said, a wry smile on her face. ‘You know I’m the world’s least observant person when it comes to people’s feelings, but he seems to be spending a lot of time with her, going to the village choir rehearsals and stuff. And did you notice – when I suggested we let her go, begin to cut some costs – he was very quick to say no. Wouldn’t hear of it. Do you think he fancies her?’ When Dee didn’t respond, Olivia shrugged. ‘It’s probably nothing.’

‘Yes. It’s probably nothing.’ Dee sighed, unsure how Olivia’s observation made her feel. ‘I genuinely don’t know. And he has far more important things to be thinking about than that. We all do.’

Olivia arched her eyebrows as Candida re-entered the room. ‘Yes, but you can’t control who you fall in love with, can you?’

Sebastian found Jess seated at the kitchen table, a piece of paper in front of her, pen in hand. The aroma of whatever tomato-based sauce she’d created made his mouth water within seconds; he could see a covered pan on the Aga’s warming plate, a tomato-coated wooden spoon resting on top.

‘Supper’s all under control,’ she said, frowning at whatever she had written on the paper.

‘What have you got there?’ Sebastian drew close enough to see the list. Dances and recitals. Clay pigeon competitions. Wildlife photography. Film set.

‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just some ideas. Probably nothing worth considering, but …’ She glanced up at him. ‘I mean, they have to film all those period dramas somewhere, don’t they – so why not here? And my friend Amina was talking about a TV series set in the Highlands only the other day, and then I remembered Outlander , and The Traitors with the fabulous Winkleman. And wasn’t one of the James Bond movies filmed partly up here somewhere? You’ve got an entire Scottish castle at your disposal, plus loads of beautiful countryside. Surely film companies would pay well to use somewhere as beautiful as this?’

‘Looks like you’ve been busy,’ he said.

‘Do you think the tenants would mind the village being used as a set? Because that’s chocolate-box perfect, too.’ She shrugged. ‘Being a potential extra in a movie has got to be better than having to move away, hasn’t it?’

Sebastian nodded, pointing at the sheet of paper. ‘And wildlife photography. What’s that all about?’

‘Robbie is more interested in clay-pigeon shooting than real shooting, so it would be easy to add that string to your bow – if you’ll excuse the pun. And that made me think about other kinds of shooting – like shooting photographs. Robbie knows the countryside around here like the back of his hand. He’d be able to lead groups of people to all the right spots to see wildlife, wouldn’t he? You could even put up some hides in the right places. It could be like a safari, Highland style.’

Sebastian frowned. ‘Are you and Robbie getting on well?’

Jess glanced up at him. ‘Guess so. He’s a good mate. Why?’

‘You’re just friends?’ he said, trying to keep the tone of his voice level.

‘Well, yes. Obviously. It’s not like I’m his type, is it?’

Sebastian’s frown deepened. ‘What do you mean not his type?’

‘I’m the wrong gender for one thing,’ she said, then seemed to catch herself, her hand flying to her mouth. ‘Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘You think Robbie is gay?’ Sebastian said.

‘Isn’t he?’

‘Not as far as I know,’ Sebastian said. ‘Not that it matters, I just thought you and he were … You know …’

‘An item? No. Should I be offended that he pretended to be gay to let me down gently?’ She stifled a laugh, then shrugged. ‘I think that’s a first. Anyway – as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted – maybe you could have people here for photography holidays.’

Sebastian did his best to cover the way his heart leapt at the knowledge she wasn’t involved with Robbie, at how easily she’d brushed the idea away. ‘You’re a powerhouse, did anyone ever tell you?’

‘All the time,’ Jess said. ‘None of it’s going to be a quick fix, but you’ve got time on your side, time to turn it around, haven’t you?’

‘Brick by brick,’ he said.

‘Exactly.’ Jess grinned, pushing the list to one side as she stood. ‘And if we can tame the villagers, get them to put down their pitchforks and burning torches, get them on side – well, then you can really start building on firmer foundations, can’t you?’

Sebastian didn’t fail to notice another stray use of the word ‘we’. And he might simply be reading far too much into her choice of words, but gazing at her animated smile, he was amazed by her boundless enthusiasm for a project in which she had no need to be involved.

‘Are they ready for supper? It’ll only take ten minutes to cook the spaghetti.’

‘Freya’s still getting the boys to bed. I came to help.’

‘Oh, OK. Well, can you find some cutlery, please. This budding pianist doesn’t want to lose any fingers, remember?’ The grin faded away, and she headed back to her list and took up the pen. ‘Summer school. Recording studio.’ She added the ideas to the list as she said them. ‘The old stables could make a brilliant recording space, couldn’t it? And with all your contacts in London, it would be easy to get the word out.’

Sebastian sighed. It could be the kickstart he needed to get back in touch with the people he’d let down so badly, leaving the orchestra halfway through rehearsals for all the Christmas concerts.

‘And I remember doing a music summer school when I was a kid – I loved it, and it almost cost Vivi a kidney. So that’s good – you can charge people loads. And with a resident piano and violin virtuoso already built in – that’s you, by the way – and some other musicians rustled up? I mean, who wouldn’t want to do a music summer school in the Highlands?’ Jess turned a circle. ‘God, I’m on a roll tonight.’

‘You are.’

As Sebastian watched her easy manner, her bright genuine smile, the way she’d come up with a boatload of ideas to help him and the estate without asking for anything in return, he realised he couldn’t imagine life after she left the castle. After her contract was over. He didn’t want to return to that cold, lonely version of himself. And although he wasn’t sure what that meant, or how it would land if he was to have a go at explaining it, he was about to try when she sucked in a breath and dumped the pen.

‘Oh, before I forget …’ She crossed the room, tugging a tea towel from a drawer and turning to him with an amused look on her face. ‘This is for you.’

His expression must have conveyed his confusion, and he checked the draining board for washing up in need of drying.

‘No, it’s for you to tuck into your shirt when you eat your spaghetti. Mrs Keel told me all about the mess you used to make of your clothes when you were a kid. I’m just taking precautions, that’s all.’

She watched him for his reaction, raised her eyebrows when he shook his head.

‘Outrageous. How am I supposed to look like a grown adult with Mrs Keel spilling all my childhood foibles all over the place?’

‘She even told me about your family of spaghetti worms in your shirt pocket.’ Jess’s lips twitched as she tried not to laugh.

Sebastian could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. ‘Is nothing sacred? I’ll be having words, rest assured.’

But he was joking, and then Jess was laughing.

‘Off you go,’ she said. ‘Take the cutlery with you and report back with an ECF.’

‘An ECF?’ It was an acronym he’d never heard of.

‘Expected commencement of film.’ Jess waved the packet of dried spaghetti at him. ‘Go. Gather information. Return. Yes?’