Page 2 of A Scottish Love Story
Roxie’s mouth tightened. It had been a stressful day. She was very tired. ‘I realised I’d turned into a farm, but with two tractors behind me, there was no place to pull out of the way or to turn. I’m looking for Oaklands. Oaklands View, actually.’
‘You’re not from this area,’ the man stated with a frown. ‘This is Oaklands Farm. Didn’t you read the sign?’
‘I did. It saidOaklands. It did not say farm.’ Roxie refused to be cowed by his bad temper.
‘It didn’t say “View” either. Anybody with sense would realise this led to a farm. Why are you going to Oaklands View anyway?’
‘If it’s any business of yours, I’m looking for Mrs Amynta Baxter. I am to be her companion and chauffeur.’ The man’s blue eyes almost shot out of his head. His curly red hair was already ruffled, but he pushed his fingers roughly through it, making it stand on end.
‘Her companion? That can’t be right! You’re just a lassie. There must be some mistake.’ He scowled. His bushy eyebrows came down and he glared at her accusingly. ‘Unless you deliberately misled her?’
‘I did not mislead anyone!’ Roxie said indignantly.
‘Look, can you tell me where I can turn, and give me directions? I’m already very late...’
‘I’ll say you’re late. She phoned me at two o’clock to say you’d not turned up. She was convinced you’d changed your mind about the job.’
‘I couldn’t get a phone signal to tell her about the traffic accident and delays.’
‘For three hours and more! Go tell that to the marines!’
‘Marines?’ Roxie compressed her lips again, holding on to her temper. She opened her car door, forcing him to move back. She stepped out and looked around. ‘I don’t see any marines but if they were here,theywould do me the courtesy of believing me.’
A woman laughed. A tall, young woman, maybe a few years older than herself, rounded the corner of the house, followed by a man in smart flannels and a sports jacket. He was grinning. It did not help the mood of the furious man confronting Roxie.
‘Oh, Ciaran, lighten up a bit,’ the woman said with a chuckle. ‘We all have bad days you know. This must be Aunt Amy’s new companion.’ She stepped closer and held out her hand. ‘Youmust be Roxanne Carr? Aunt Amy is expecting you. She will be so pleased you have arrived safely. I am Jenny Pringle, and this is my husband, Donald. Andthisis Ciaran Baxter, Aunt Amy’s son.’
Ciaran spluttered angrily. ‘There must be some mistake! My mother is expecting a middle-aged widow.’
‘No, she isn’t,’ Jenny said. ‘It was you, Ciaran, who considered the middle-aged widow the most suitable applicant. Aunt Amy made up her own mind this time. She wants someone young and cheerful to brighten her life. She has plans—’
‘She never told me that!’ Ciaran interrupted her. He eyed Roxie for a moment. ‘Mum particularly wanted a competent driver. The last one nearly made her a nervous wreck.’
‘I’d say Roxanne must be competent enough, old boy,’ Donald said. ’She has driven all the way from, er... Derbyshire, wasn’t it?’ He looked at Roxie and winked.
‘Well, it’s taken her long enough... I suppose you’re not used to an early start?’ He raised an ironic ginger eyebrow at her.
Roxie longed to tell him she had been up every morning by five thirty and milked a hundred and fifty cows before breakfast for several years, but she bit back the sharp retort. While he might wonder what sort of companion she was going to make for an old lady, the old lady herself had been extremely interested to hear all about her home, the farm, her work, and her life with her father since her mother’s death. ‘You were supposed to be here by one o’clock and it’s...’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Good gracious, it’s half past four! It’s time I was milking. I need to get on. You’ll have to move your car out of the way.’
He waved at the other tractor driver. ‘Max, we need to wait while this lassie gets her car out of the way. I’ll move your tractor if you want to get away home now.’
‘I will move my car when you to tell me where to turn,’ Roxie reminded him drily.
‘Hmph.’ He looked at the tractor driver who was grinning at his frustration. ‘You can’t turn here with two tractors in the way. You’ll need to drive round the end of the house and turn right. You’ll have to go down the front drive, back onto the farm road. Then go back to the public road and turn right. Oaklands View is about a mile further along. You can’t miss the sign on the right. It saysOaklandsView.’
‘Thank you.’ Roxie refused to rise to the bait. She climbed back into her car and started up, driving in the direction indicated. Ahead of her was a really tight turn into a garden with an overgrown drive. She brought her car sharply round, narrowly avoiding the corner of the house. She was about to straighten up when she heard the most dreadful grinding noise as though the bottom of her car was being ripped off. It juddered. It would move neither back nor forward. She was stuck. Of course she was.
Chapter 2
Roxie wanted to put her head on the steering wheel and burst into tears. She never cried usually, but she felt totally exhausted by the strains and stresses of the past five weeks, all culminating with today’s dreadful events. She had not even reached her destination yet. She was anxious. She was frustrated. She had probably ruined her little car. She had encountered the rudest, most abrupt and bad-tempered man existing on the planet. Worse, it seemed he was the son of her employer! Worse still, he had preferred some other applicant. She couldn’t turn round and drive home. She couldn’t drive anywhere. She shivered, remembering she didn’t really have a home of her own anymore. It belonged to Tommy and his pregnant new wife, Gilda, who resented her without even knowing her.
‘It’s your fault, Ciaran.’ Jenny called to Ciaran as he came rushing to see what had caused such a noise. `We keep telling you to shift those pesky stones.’
Roxie lifted her head to see Ciaran standing, hands on hips, mouth pursed. He strode right up to her car. She wound down the window with a resigned sigh.
‘Competent driver, eh? Didn’t you see the boulders? They’re to stop people like you driving over the grass.’
‘You mean those grassy-looking bumps in the long grass? Are they boulders?’
