She had a tentative look inside. ‘No murdered animals, that’s a good start. But blimey it’s cold.’
Fraser marched over to where the window was wide open and there was a small puddle of rainwater on the floor. He pulled the window shut. ‘Dodgy catch, that’s all. I’ll get some bedding,’ he said. As he went off, Liv hopped into the room. There was a four-poster bed, which she couldn’t help but be a bit wowed by. Dust sheets covered all the furniture so she scooted over to the bed and began pulling sheets off the things nearby. First to be uncovered was a bedside table, then a plump-looking chair, followed by a large camera on a tripod.
Fraser stepped back into the room with an armful of white bedding. ‘What the hell is that?’ she asked.
‘It’s a camera.’
‘You don’t even deny it.’ She scratched her head. What sort of pervert was he? ‘Do you film people while they’re sleeping? Having sex? What?’
Fraser closed his eyes slowly and opened them again. ‘If that was what it was for, do you not think guests might notice? If I wanted to film people, which I definitely don’t, I’d go for one of those tiny spy cameras you can hide inside anything.’
She studied him. ‘I guess but why’s it pointed at the bed like that?’
‘It’s an antique from the golden age of cinema, and it doesn’t even work. But I’ll move it.’ He plonked his armfuls of bedding down, snatched up the camera and stomped out of the room. ‘Worse than the princess and the bloody pea.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate it,’ she called after him and she received a grunt as a reply.
He returned with some extra blankets and Liv tried her best to help him make the bed but he tutted at her as she was too slow moving around the bed. Eventually it was ready. She looked about her. ‘En suite?’ she asked.
‘You have one of those at home do you?’ he asked with a tilt of his head.
‘No, but this is a hotel so I assumed—’
‘It’s not a hotel if it’s not open and if guests aren’t paying. And you assumed wrong. Again the Victorians weren’t big on their plumbing but there is an alternative under the bed.’
Liv crouched down to see a large china pot. ‘Eww, gross.’
‘It’s for comedy value. Toilet is next door…’ He paused and seemed to be considering something. ‘I’m in the next room along after the bathroom. If there are any more cow, Janet or camera emergencies please do let me know.’ He tugged at his auburn fringe and made for the door.
‘I’ll be sure to do that. You’re on your way to a great star rating on TripAdvisor. Goodnight,’ she said and she shut the door behind him. Liv breathed a sigh of relief, then she had another thought. She opened the door again, and this time her tone was a bit more contrite. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a towel?’
‘I’ll bring you one in a minute.’
She stuck her head out of the door to see he was further along, standing with his back to her. ‘Thanks, and something to sleep in?’ She noticed his shoulders tense up.
He turned around. He didn’t look happy. ‘Would you like a nightdress or pyjamas?’
‘Ooh pyjamas would be great, thanks.’
He stared at her and shook his head. ‘Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable.’ He was still grumbling to himself as he walked away.
A few minutes later there was a tap on the door and Fraser handed her a large white towel, a pair of men’s underpants and a Meatloaf T-shirt. She took them.
‘Didn’t have you down as a Meatloaf fan,’ she said, thinking about how much Fraser’s profile had said he liked Mariah Carey.
‘Funnily enough we don’t carry nightwear for random passers-by but I’ll put it in the suggestions box. You can keep the trunks but I want that T-shirt back. Intact.’
‘I’ll try not to put bumps in it,’ she said with an overly enthusiastic smile. ‘Thanks. Goodnight.’ And she closed the door. Now she just had to find something to wedge underneath it. Fraser might be being all helpful now, but could she really trust him?
*
Despite the lodge being in the grounds of the Lochy House hotel, and Effie having a coat, she was still drenched by the time they got inside. Dolly wasn’t as wet because she always had her large black waterproof poncho with her; it was one of the many essentials she kept on the scooter along with a slab of Scottish tablet and a toilet roll. Once inside Effie helped her grandmother take off her poncho and Dolly’s old Scottie dog, Jock’O, came to meet them.
‘Hello, boy,’ said Dolly as the two greeted each other. Jock’O proudly presented his mistress with a sock and jumped onto Dolly’s lap – he loved to cadge a lift on the mobility scooter.
‘Hey, Jock’O, that’s one of mine,’ complained Effie trying to take the sock but he’d only growl if she tried to reclaim it. She’d have to wait for him to abandon it somewhere and snatch it then. Dolly headed off to the kitchen and Effie tried not to drip water everywhere. Effie took off her wet layers and went through to the kitchen where Dolly was making their night-time drinks.
‘What do you make of the English girl?’ asked Dolly.
