Page 29 of Highland Games
‘Mother! The decision hasn’t been made. Even if it works, we’ll never have enough money to return, unless you’re happy to live in an ex-council flat in bloody Wester Hailes. Lucy and I are over. As for Zoe? I’m not interested in her and she’s not interested in me.’
‘Honestly, darling, disinterest is just a ploy to make you work harder. Now, go and throw an axe at something and you’ll feel much better.’
Rory strode out, slamming the door behind him. She didn’t care about what he wanted, she never had. He had to find a way to fix this.
Zoe closedthe lid of her laptop. She could do this. As long as she had the roof secure, her furniture out of storage, and enough wood, she could last the winter. It wouldn’t be pleasant, in fact without a proper front door it would be bloody miserable. But she could do it. Then, in the spring she could do without the Rayburn and find work in Inverness.
She sighed. Who was she kidding? As if on the first of May it suddenly became so tropical, she would no longer need heat or hot water? No, her savings wouldn’t last that long. She needed a plan B. She absentmindedly stroked Basil who was investigating the new smells in her hair and ran through different scenarios, none of which were very practical.
The sound of a truck coming up the track brought her to her feet and she went out onto the porch. By now it was dark and she couldn’t see who it was behind the glare of the headlights. They cut out and a figure emerged. Rory.
He strode purposefully up the steps to the porch and stood in front of her. ‘It wasn’t me.’ Zoe snorted. ‘I promise. The cows were stupid. Buying Basil was insane. Throwing your wood on the ground did indeed make me arsehole of the year. I’m sorry for all of those things. I’ve been a total dick. But I did not do this. You have every right to live here and I’m not going to try and stop you.’
‘Then who did it?’ When Rory hesitated, Zoe pounced. ‘You know. Jesus Christ! What have I ever done to anyone here?’
‘Nothing, you’ve done nothing. It’s someone you don’t know and are never going to meet. It won’t happen again, I promise.’
‘It’s too bloody late!’ Zoe cried. ‘The damage is done. I’ve been rerunning the numbers, and even with the roof fixed I can’t last the winter. I can’t go to work in Inverness because I can’t leave the sodding Rayburn without fuel all day, and without that, I’ll freeze to death. And the rate at which I’m getting through the wood, I don’t know if I can afford the fuel bill as it is. And that’s without even addressing the water issue. If the stream or loch freezes then I’ll be hauling chunks of frigging ice up here to melt!’
‘Can I come in?’
‘Why? No, you cannot.’
‘I have a suggestion that could help.’
Zoe fumed, eyeballing him.
‘It would solve most of your immediate problems and wouldn’t cost you a penny. Please, just hear me out.’
Zoe turned. ‘This had better be good. And take your boots off.’
Rory followed her in, putting his boots by the flimsy door. Zoe took the only chair and sat down, the table between her and Rory. She picked Basil up, holding him to her as if for protection. Rory stood on the other side of the table
‘Well?’ said Zoe archly.
Rory swallowed. ‘I, I’m not very good at my job.’
His face was taut with tension.
‘And what exactlyisyour job?’
Rory paused, and stared at the floor. Zoe could see his hands opening and closing into fists by his sides, muscles working in his jaw, his body primed to fight or flee. He took a big breath. ‘I’ve just started working on the Kinloch estate. It’s big and complicated. There’s only me, and I don’t know what I’m doing. Chopping wood, mending fences, herding cattle, I can do all that. But the admin just fries my brain. If I can’t find a way forward, the castle will have to be sold.’
‘What about your boss?’
‘The estate is still in the possession of the Earl of Kinloch.’
‘Stuart MacGinley? Isn’t he a wanker banker in London?’
Rory glanced up. ‘Wanker banker?’
Zoe shrugged. ‘Typical toff. Born with every advantage in the world, but still wants to make more money off the backs of ordinary people by playing fast and loose with their pensions, before becoming a Tory MP. Why isn’t he doing anything to help?’
Rory dropped his head again. His hands contracted back into fists. He hesitated. ‘He’s as clueless as me. There’s a proposal by a big asset management company on the table, but it’s not right. It’s not right for the castle.’
‘And what has any of this got to do with me?’
Rory fixed her with his luminous eyes. ‘You’re clever. You rebranded the last company you worked for, did their new website, doubled their turnover. And you’re good with numbers. If there’s an answer to be found then you’ll find it.’
