The Secrets of the Glen (Scottish Highlands #2)

Chapter 29

‘Is he still out there working?’ Gayle’s voice carried from the lounge.

Robyn was washing up the dinner plates. She glanced out of the kitchen window into the front garden. Marty, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, was busy digging over some earth in a flower border. ‘He said he wanted to finish planting the border before he went home.’

Gayle walked into the kitchen with a book in her hand. She joined Robyn at the window. ‘Just as well we’ve got lighter evenings now. I love the spring.’

Robyn smiled. ‘Me too. And I love your garden. I can’t believe it’s April already. Look what Marty has achieved in just three months.’

Easter was just around the corner, and the plan was for Marty to finish landscaping and planting up the front so that he could start on the back garden for the summer.

‘It looks amazing,’ commented Robyn. With the high hedge that marked the boundary between Gayle’s house and the neighbouring land, and also provided privacy from the road, the front garden was a lovely spot to sit out on the lawn before the back garden was landscaped. Marty had planted an assortment of heathers adding a rich tapestry of purples and pinks to the borders, creating a stunning contrast with the lush green foliage of hardy pines that thrived in the cool Highland air.

David had taken Robyn to the farm shop and shopping centre they’d visited before. Robyn loved visiting the place at weekends. Normally, she’d just browse the shops and drink coffee with David, or have lunch. But on the last trip, she’d spent a bit of money on a small cream cast iron table, and matching chairs, along with some seat cushions in a cream and delicate green leaf pattern.

Gayle had loved the purchases, although she had been annoyed that Robyn had not let her pay for the new garden furniture. But that didn’t stop Gayle and her mum wandering outside on a beautiful spring morning with a cup of tea, sitting at the table, enjoying the sunshine, and admiring the beautiful garden and the amazing work that Marty had done.

Marty planted the last plant into the border and stood up, surveying his handiwork. Robyn saw him cast his gaze down the border in the direction of the house. She waved from the window.

Gayle waved too. ‘I think he’s finished the front garden – don’t you?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Well, this calls for a celebration.’

Robyn nodded enthusiastically. It would have been nice if it had been a double celebration – officially opening the guesthouse to new guests – but the work on the inside of the house was still underway.

Robyn was so pleased at how the front garden had turned out. It would give an amazing first impression for the guests. ‘I bet this garden rivals the neighbouring garden now.’

‘Are you talking about The Lake House?’

Robyn nodded as she washed up the last dinner plate and left it on the draining board. She wiped her hands dry on the dish cloth.

‘What’s the house like?’ she asked, not expecting that Gayle would know. It was in extensive grounds, so couldn’t be seen from the road. She said as much.

‘I’ve seen photos of their house in the press.’ Gayle flicked the kettle on. She got two mugs out of the kitchen cupboard. ‘Why don’t you go and see it for yourself?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly wander up some stranger’s driveway to gawp at their house.’

Gayle made them each a cup of tea. Doris had fallen asleep in a chair in the lounge, so there was no point making her a cuppa. Nor did she offer Marty a brew – he didn’t like tea or coffee.

‘I expect you’d get a good look at it from the loch, if you hired a motorboat, or went fishing.’

Neither of those options appealed to Robyn. She followed Gayle into the lounge. Marty was still clearing up; he had his tools still lying around the garden, and they’d need to go back into his van.

‘You could go with Marty when he goes to do some gardening at The Lake House. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you tagged along.’

Robyn sat down in the lounge and watched Gayle put the cups of tea down on the coffee table in front of them. Gayle cast a glance at her mum and then put on her reading glasses. She picked up the book she was reading. A moment later, she sighed, took off her reading glasses, and cast the novel to one side. She leaned forward in her chair. ‘What’s the matter?’

Gayle had caught Robyn staring into space. Robyn sighed. ‘Oh, nothing.’ But it wasn’t nothing . She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of seeing their holiday home, even though she wanted to. Perhaps it was the thought that she only wanted to visit out of morbid curiosity, knowing that the Ross heiress, Eleanor, who was not that much older than her, had a serious accident on the mountain during their traditional Christmas Day ski.

‘Ah, I know what it is,’ Gayle said, getting up from her chair, and leaving the room.

‘Gayle – where are you going? Your tea will get cold.’

‘Marty!’ she called out.

Robyn was out of her seat like a shot. She joined Gayle at the front door. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Yes, Gayle?’ Marty appeared so fast it was as though he had been standing right the other side of the door, but for the fact that he was breathing hard. He must have raced down the garden.

‘Robyn would like to see The Lake House.’

‘We both would,’ Robyn interjected quickly, looking at Gayle.

‘Oh no, you don’t,’ Gayle said in mock indignation. ‘I wasn’t the one who brought up wanting to see it.’ Gayle winked at Robyn. ‘You go and look. Perhaps it will give you some ideas and inspiration for planning the back garden here at Lark Lodge. Marty will show you around – won’t you Marty?’

‘Yes of course. The grounds are beautiful.’

‘Well, you would say that.’ Gayle winked affectionately at Marty.

‘Actually, it wasn’t me. I’m just really the caretaker now, keeping the weeds at bay, the flowers in bloom, and the lawns mowed and tended to. I can’t take credit for it – that was my father. He was the one who planned and designed the gardens.

‘Sounds like he had a real talent.’

‘Yes, he’s going to be a hard act to follow. I’ve discovered it’s quite a job keeping on top of it just by myself. My father used to employ some other gardeners who also worked in the grounds, but they’d been working years and retired too when he passed over his gardening business to me. I’m doing the best I can at the moment, but I expect I’m going to have to get in touch with the Rosses, tell them that things have changed, and I can’t do all the work myself.’

Robyn nodded as she leaned to one side, taking in the beautiful garden that had taken shape in the last three months. Spring meant planting season, and although it would take some years for the garden to feel established as the border plants and trees grew and spread, Marty had done an amazing job.

Gayle was also looking at the garden when she said, ‘It looks to me as though you should have no worries on that score. Your father would be very proud if he saw the work you’ve done here,’ she added. ‘You are welcome to bring him along any time if you want to show it off. There’ll be a brew waiting.’

Marty smiled. ‘That’s very kind of you.’

‘Gayle! Where are you?’ Doris’s insistent voice came from the lounge. It wasn’t so much that she was being demanding; she had just woken up from her snooze and found herself alone. Robyn could hear it in her voice – fear.

Over the last three months, everything had been moving inexorably on for Robyn – redecorating Lark Lodge, finishing Rose and George’s house, and working for her new customers who had moved in opposite Rose and George. Her business, operating out of Duncan’s shop, was starting to flourish, which had turned Duncan’s fortunes around – and what had helped tremendously, in the beginning, was the money, now dwindling, in the bottom of her rucksack. Even the garden had come on in leaps and bounds. But unfortunately, what had also moved inexorably on was Doris’s condition. The dementia was getting worse, and Robyn could see that her decline was gaining momentum.

Gayle couldn’t have popped down the street and round the corner to The Lake House anymore, even if she’d wanted to. Someone had to be with her mum pretty much all the time. Before, as long as the neighbour popped in just to keep an eye, Gayle was free to nip out to her clients, or go shopping, or take Olive for a walk. But now she couldn’t call on her neighbour – it was too much of a responsibility.

Increasingly, Gayle’s hairdressing clients were coming to her. But they wouldn’t all do that. She was losing clients – and money. Robyn was aware that she had a dwindling client base. She needed more paying guests besides Nick and Olive. They’d had words – Robyn still wanted to pay for her room. If she didn’t, then it would be one less room that Gayle could make money from. But Gayle insisted that while Robyn was paying for the garden work, that she was not going to pay for a room in her house too. She’d insisted that Robyn was her friend, and that she couldn’t charge her rent.

Well, maybe we’ll need to have a falling-out,’ Robyn had joked.

They’d both smiled at that. They were best friends. That was never going to happen. But what was going to happen was that as soon as the gardening work finished, and Gayle could no longer hold that over her head, she was going to start paying for her room. Otherwise I’ll move out – that was her last bargaining chip; she knew Gayle would not want that.

‘You could come now, if you like, and I’ll show you around,’ Marty said.

Robyn peered past Marty into the gathering gloom.

‘Perhaps when it’s lighter,’ Gayle said, reading her mind.

‘Yes – after all, I want to be able to see it, don’t I?’ Robyn laughed.

Marty glanced about him. ‘I suppose it is getting a bit late.’

‘Anybody would think you didn’t have a home to go to,’ Gayle said to Marty. ‘But listen – I want to have a little celebratory meal, cook us all a special dinner, now you’ve finished the front garden.’

Marty’s face lit up. ‘Oh, that would be fantastic.’

‘Gayle!’ Doris shouted from the lounge.

‘All right, Mum! I’m coming! Don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ She turned to Marty. ‘Sorry that it can’t be tonight, but I will arrange something.’

Marty’s face dropped. ‘Well, I guess I’d better be going then.’

‘Do you need to wash up again?’ Gayle asked.

Robyn took at his grass-stained jeans and soiled shirt, along with his grimy fingers.

Looking past them into the house, he shook his head and turned to go. ‘Oh, thanks for lunch. It was lovely joining you all.’

‘It was lovely to have you, Marty.’ Gayle had invited him in for lunch, which he’d readily accepted. She’d said it was the least she could do. He had volunteered to work on Saturday, after all.

Gayle was just closing the front door when she looked at Robyn, cocked her head in Marty’s direction, and said, ‘Something’s not right.’

Robyn nodded. She’d noticed it too. They both stood there and watched Marty dragging his heels and walking awfully slowly back to his van, which was parked a little way down the drive.

Robyn looked at Gayle, and whispered. ‘Do you get the impression that for some reason he’d rather not go home this evening?’

Gayle cast her eyes heavenward. ‘You know, if I keep inviting people to stay here, there will be no room left for paying guests!’

Robyn smiled. She knew Gayle wouldn’t turn anyone away. ‘Perhaps he’s had a falling-out with his mum and dad?’

Gayle nodded. ‘It’s possible. But I thought they got on really well?’

‘Yes, so did I.’

Gayle said, ‘I’ll go and talk to him. Will you sit with my mum?’

‘Of course.’

Robyn heard Gayle call out Marty’s name as she walked over to Doris in the lounge, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’m just walking over to the window.’

‘All right, dear.’

Robyn stood by the window. Through the old single-glazed glass panes, she could see and hear everything outside.

‘Yes?’ Marty called back, moving a few steps towards the house.

‘It’s getting late,’ Gayle said, which wasn’t strictly true, although it was starting to get dark. ‘I was wondering if you would you like to stay the night?’

‘Here?’

‘Yes, I’ve got the room. I haven’t got any paying guests at the moment.’ Marty knew that the gardens at Lark Lodge were being landscaped because the place was going to be turned into a guesthouse.

Robyn heard Marty reply, ‘It would mean I could make an early start in the morning, on your back garden.’

‘You don’t have to do that. It’s Sunday tomorrow, Marty. I hope you stay for Sunday lunch.’

Robyn smiled. It was really kind of Gayle to offer him to Sunday dinner.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course. Come inside. There’s a bedroom with a sink so you can get cleaned up.’

‘All right.’ Marty followed her into the house. Robyn heard the creak of the stairs as Gayle showed him to a bedroom on the next floor. She overheard Gayle chatting on the way up the stairs. ‘You could take Robyn to see The Lake House after breakfast tomorrow morning – she’d love that.’

A funny feeling in the pit of Robyn’s stomach told her she wasn’t so sure.