Coming Home to the Highlands, page 6
The walk back to the castle for the wake after the service wasn’t a particularly long one but the biting cold of the Highland air seeped into Olivia’s bones as she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. Most people walked the gravel path in silence and those who did speak only did so in respectful whispers. The crunching sound of the tiny stones underfoot was, at times, almost deafening.
‘Are you doing okay?’ Harper asked in a low voice as she squeezed her arm. ‘I mean, I know that’s a dumb question…’
Olivia turned her face and smiled. ‘Thank you again for coming over here to be with me. I couldn’t have faced it alone.’
Harper nodded. ‘Absolutely. And I know you could have. You can face anything. You moved to the States alone, remember?’
‘But I’m better with you here,’ Olivia insisted.
They arrived outside the lofty, some might say intimidating, castle building and Olivia stopped to peer upwards. Unlike many castles which displayed a kind of pleasing symmetry, Drumblair had been added to over the years, meaning it now displayed a hotch-potch of parts that surrounded the central, and original, peel tower. The main entrance was arched like a typical portcullis; however, signs of the original metal fortified gate were long gone. But this was her home and regardless of its imperfections, she still loved it dearly.
As everyone else made their way inside, Harper nudged her gently. ‘Are you okay?’
Olivia nodded. ‘I just… I think I need a minute if that’s okay?’
Harper hugged her. ‘Sure thing. I’ll see you inside when you’re ready.’ She kissed Olivia’s cheek and followed the rest of the guests in through the large, ornately carved wooden doors.
Mirren had organised an outside catering company to provide a buffet and staff in the great hall for their return, but Olivia wasn’t ready to go inside and deal with people’s inevitable condolences yet. She peered up at the exterior stone walls of the immense castle that she had once called home, and immeasurable sadness washed over her, as she recalled many happy hours playing in the long stone corridors and outside in the extensive grounds amongst the trees and walkways. The walled garden to the left of the main building had always been her favourite and she had spent many happy hours as a child pretending to be Mary Lennox from her favourite childhood book, The Secret Garden, although deeming herself perhaps less self-centred and mean than the spoiled main character. She wondered what the walled garden looked like now and decided she would take a look whilst she was here.
Eventually, when the bitter March chill became too much, Olivia stepped inside the castle. The decision to stay at her favourite hotel in Inverness prior to the funeral had been a strange one, but necessary. She couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Drumblair knowing her mother wouldn’t be here to greet her with open arms and hugs. At least today there would be other people around. She wouldn’t have the time to be reminded of how both her parents had passed away before she even reached thirty. She wouldn’t have a moment to acknowledge the sheer agony of walking through her family home knowing that there was no family left living here.
She glanced up at the deer antlers mounted on the walls that stretched skywards. She had never liked the thought of killing things for sport, let alone mounting the trophies on the walls of her home, and her father had, thankfully, been of the same mind. The antlers mounted here were those naturally shed by the herd in their grounds; their former owners had always simply been for admiring. Sadly, however, hunting had been a tradition that her ancestors had partaken of for many years and there were a couple of stags’ heads remaining on the walls in other parts of the house. Her father had insisted on keeping them as a stark reminder of the past and how not to behave in the future.
She moved her focus onto the oil paintings of her predecessors. The familiarity of the faces glaring seriously from their respective canvases reminded her of endless, nerve-racking games of hide and seek. Back then, when their relationship had been a little better, Kerr always told her she could never really hide from him because the paintings told him where she was. For a long while, she was terrified of the paintings, especially at night when she would dash past them with her eyes scrunched tight. But then she remembered learning about the people displayed there from her father when he would proudly wax lyrical about their exploits and involvement in the Jacobite uprising and she realised they couldn’t, nor would they choose to, do her harm now.
Her favourite story had been the one about Bonnie Prince Charlie. Legend had it that the young chevalier had been hidden in Drumblair Castle for some time prior to launching his rebellion at Glenfinnan in 1745. She had always tried to imagine the would-be monarch walking through the castle’s rooms and sitting before the fire in what they now called the drawing room. She had often wondered what he’d thought of the place. She knew that when he’d been here, there had been secret meetings and plotting a-plenty and she knew the walls must have soaked up so much history that her heart shuddered when she thought of the place being stripped from her family.
4
As she walked into the great hall, Olivia removed her long black overcoat and a young man she didn’t recognise, but presumed was part of the catering crew, took it from her with a single officious nod. She made her way towards the huge oak table where the other mourners had gathered and was greeted by her Uncle Innes. Olivia had always adored the kind-hearted man. Kerr’s own twisted opinions were something Olivia refused to acknowledge.
Innes kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Olivia, darling, how are you holding up?’ Olivia’s chin trembled and before she could speak, he pulled her into his arms and held her. ‘I know, I know,’ he said as his own voice cracked. ‘Shhh, it’s okay. You still have me, you know, and I’ll always be here for you.’
Olivia leaned back and tilted her chin up to look at the grey-haired man with the kindest eyes she had ever encountered. ‘Thank you. That means the world to me.’
He cupped her cheek and smiled. ‘I’m so sorry you’re going through this. But you’re not alone, okay?’ His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw briefly before continuing, ‘I know you have Kerr but… well, as I said, you have me.’
There certainly was no love lost between Kerr and Innes. Innes was very much aware of the pain and suffering Kerr had caused to his beloved sister Freya in years past and had stepped in to defend and advise her on more occasions than should have been necessary. Kerr had taken this as Innes trying to get his hands on their mother’s wealth. Of course, the truth of it was Kerr’s gambling and crazy money-making schemes could have ruined their mother if not for Innes, who seemed to be the only one who could convince her to stop and think about how much she was prepared to dig him out of his messes. It was no surprise that Kerr had an inherent dislike of their uncle.
The food spread out on the antique table looked and smelled divine, if only Olivia had an appetite.
Harper approached her along with Skye and Bella. ‘Here, you have to eat something, Olivia,’ Harper said, handing her a gold-edged plate with a few small morsels of the buffet arranged on it.
‘Harper’s right, honey. You need to keep your strength up,’ Skye said.
‘You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping much,’ Bella told her in true Bella style.
‘I appreciate you all worrying about me but I’m fine, honestly,’ Olivia insisted as she took the plate of food from Harper but the expression on her friends’ faces told her they were not convinced.
As the other women chatted amongst themselves, Olivia glanced around the room at the small parcels of people who were talking in whispers as Debussy’s ‘Clair de lune’ played from a stereo system on the beautiful Chippendale sideboard. Her eyes alighted on someone who appeared to be staring at her, but she couldn’t quite remember who he was. He looked familiar but try as she might, Olivia couldn’t place him. He was tall; very tall, at least six feet four was her guess. His hair was dark and fell in waves that flicked out at the collar above his shoulders. A light stubble graced his chin and strong jawline. He wore a well-fitting black suit and slate-grey shirt with matching tie. When he realised she was looking back at him, he raised his glass and gave a small, solemn bow. She smiled but quickly turned away.
‘So, who’s the male model giving you the eye?’ Harper asked. ‘I mean, I know I’m not into guys, but even I can appreciate a good-looking man when I see one.’
Olivia shrugged. ‘No idea. He looks kind of familiar. Probably one of Dad’s associates.’
Bella chimed in, ‘He does look familiar. Maybe we ought to go find out who he is?’ she insisted. ‘Maybe he’s a gate-crasher.’
Skye rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t think funeral gate-crashing is a thing, Bella.’
Bella scowled. ‘All I’m saying is if Olivia doesn’t recognise him, maybe he shouldn’t be here.’
Olivia felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Olivia, darling, can I have a quick word?’ Innes said. Taking the hint, her friends walked away to give them some space.
Once they were alone, Innes cleared his throat. ‘I was wondering if you might be available the day after tomorrow to go through the will. I’ve asked Alasdair McKendrick to come along here to the castle, I hope that’s okay.’
Olivia frowned. ‘Sure, if that’s necessary. Isn’t his office in Edinburgh? It’s a long way for him to travel for something I presume will be fairly cut and dried.’
Innes glanced over to where Kerr stood with Adaira and a strange expression crossed his face. ‘Aye, that’s as maybe, but Alasdair recommended he be present. Probably with it being a high-profile matter. Better to dot all the Ts and cross the eyes,’ he said with a wink and a smile before turning both his eyes towards his nose. But then his expression changed to one of solemnity again. ‘Sorry, not the time for my silly jokes.’
Olivia couldn’t help smiling. ‘It’s okay, don’t apologise. My mum always loved your silly sense of humour. So, what time?’
‘I’ve requested Alasdair arrive here for around eleven. Does that suit?’
Olivia glanced across the room to Kerr, who stood holding a handkerchief up to his eyes and dabbing them as his shoulders juddered up and down in what appeared to be fake sobs. She now understood Innes’s strange expression from moments before. ‘Is Kerr set for then too?’
Innes nodded. ‘Aye. Of course, the meeting was originally going to be at noon, but he had to be obstinate about it. Apparently, he has business meetings all afternoon.’ He shook his head and a look of disdain flashed across his features this time.
Olivia sighed. ‘Figures.’ Kerr lifted his chin as one of the mourners approached him and began the whole sobbing thing again as the man patted his arm. Oscar-winning performance, Olivia thought.
As early evening took the sunlight, the mourners began to leave, and Olivia and Kerr stood by the castle doors, hugging people and thanking them for their attendance.
The tall man who she had noticed before was one of the last to leave. He shook Kerr’s hand very briefly and with a fair bit of force that seemed to knock Kerr off his game. Her brother’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak but the man glared at him, and he closed it again. He arrived in front of Olivia and took her hand.
He fixed her with a vivid blue, compassion-filled gaze and told her, ‘I’m very sorry for your loss, Olivia. You have my heartfelt condolences.’ Then with a brief, sideways glance at Kerr, he said, ‘Please take care of yourself.’
She opened her mouth to speak, intrigued to discover his identity, but he let go of her hand and walked briskly through the doors before she could form the words. Mirren and the young man from the catering company closed the doors and Olivia turned to Kerr to ask him who the man was but Kerr was already walking away, loosening his tie and heading for the stairs.
‘I’ll stay here the night and tomorrow but as soon as the will reading is done, I have to leave,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I have lots of important matters to deal with and don’t have the time to be sitting around making small talk. I’ll be in my room with Adaira and we would like to be left undisturbed for the rest of the evening. Today has taken its toll on me.’
‘I’m fine, thanks for asking,’ Olivia muttered under her breath as she found herself alone in the hallway.
Once changed into her pyjamas, Olivia went to find Marley in the kitchen. He gave excited yips as his whole body wagged in happiness to see her. She crouched to the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck and burst into heavy, heart-wrenching sobs.
After a fitful night of sleep, Olivia showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater, pulled on her rugged brown boots and folded her woollen wrap around her shoulders.
‘Come on, lad. Let’s go get some air, eh?’
Marley stood from the bed she had moved in from her mother’s room, stretched and yawned and followed her willingly as she made her way down the stairs of the castle, and on to the front door. A quick glance at her watch told her it was only 7 a.m. but there was no point trying to sleep again. Her dreams had been full of arguments with Kerr, and vivid images of bulldozers tramping up the main driveway, ready to demolish everything in sight. At the very end, she was standing in front of a giant machine, hands aloft screaming, ‘No!’ at the top of her lungs and awoke just before the blade made contact with her body. She had shot bolt upright and found herself covered in sweat, in spite of the chilly temperature of the room. No, there was no point trying to sleep if that was all that waited to greet her. Once the will was revealed, she would have to step away and leave Kerr to wreak his havoc. She knew she couldn’t stay to watch; that one thing was certain.
She turned the ancient key in the lock and tugged open the door, which creaked long and menacing under its own weight. The low mist hung across the grounds again and as she stepped outside, her breath clouded as its heat met the cold of the new day. As she walked with Marley down across the gravel, the dog froze and sniffed the air. A stag in the distance raised its head and it watched her suspiciously, only relaxing when she turned to head for her secret garden.
Olivia pushed through the tall green wooden gate and stepped over the slightly raised threshold as a shiver of anticipation shuddered down her spine – or it could have been the cold. Spring flowers were on the verge of blooming now and the tall grasses swayed gently from side to side in the breeze. She had always especially loved this place in summer when the thistles donned their proud purple tufts like the punk rockers of the garden, but even this morning there seemed to be more colours making an appearance than she remembered seeing the day before.
The rising sun shed a golden glow across the place and insects buzzed around, busily getting on with their work, whizzing past her ears and darting in amongst the plants. She crouched and, with her hand in Marley’s warm fur, she closed her eyes for a moment and felt her worries melting away as a welcome feeling of peace descended upon her.
She opened her eyes again and stood to survey the garden before her. A higgledy-piggledy path ran through the middle and darted off at tangents into little hidden pockets where there were secrets to discover, although they weren’t really secrets for Olivia any more. She knew that a stone bench lay at the end of one path where she used to read as a child, hidden away from any interruptions, and a bird bath at the end of another where you could hide in the bushes and watch wee sparrows splashing around in the water. She wasn’t, however, expecting what was at the end of a third path and jumped when she saw a large shape moving around in the undergrowth. Marley barked and lunged forwards protectively.
‘Bloody hell!’ she gasped, covering her heart as it pounded at her chest.
The person tried to stand rather too quickly and ended up on their back after falling over their own feet. ‘Bloody hell, yourself! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?’ the man growled as he scrambled to his feet.
‘Sorry but I wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to be out here at this time of morning,’ Olivia snapped in return.
‘Aye… well… likewise.’ The man came out from the shadow of one of the apple trees and Olivia widened her eyes.
Marley darted over to the man, his tail wagging frantically. ‘You?’ she said, confusion fogging up her mind as the tall stranger from the funeral came into view.
‘You too,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘Hey, Marley, lad, who’s a good boy?’ he said, scratching the dog behind his ears, then turning to address her again. ‘What are you doing out of your bed? It’s only just light out.’
‘I couldn’t sleep. Lots on my mind,’ she replied with a shrug.
He nodded. ‘Aye, well, I suppose I can understand that.’
Olivia kept her distance and wrapped her shawl tighter around her body. ‘This might be a silly question, especially seeing as you clearly know who I am but… do I know you?’ Marley certainly does, she thought.
A grin spread across the man’s handsome, unshaven face and he ran his hand back over his hair to push it out of his eyes. ‘Apparently not.’
She took a step closer. ‘But should I?’
‘Don’t I look familiar to you? At all? I mean, I know it’s been fifteen years, I suppose.’
She scrunched her eyes as if that would somehow help. ‘You do look familiar, I just can’t place…’
