The lumps of granite making up most of the structures were as indomitable as ever, the age-old rock looking as determined to last forever as it always had. But the walls of the properties weren’t the aspects of the buildings currently under scrutiny.
Sebastian didn’t need to tour the properties with the estate manager to be able to spot peeling paint on window frames, or rotten wooden struts in garden gates. The slipped roof tiles and the patchy, mildewed whitewash on outbuildings. He wondered what problems lay within the buildings, too. Water leaks and old wiring, damp patches and chimneys badly in need of sweeping. Rats in roof spaces. Never mind the updated fire-safety requirements mentioned by Ben, needed by law in every property, and pronto.
Not that Sebastian had a problem with the properties on the estate being made safe for their inhabitants – he was strapped for cash, not a monster. But he did wonder if Ben had made such definitive requirements in his meetings with Sebastian’s father. And if he had, how had they been greeted? By the looks of the properties, not very favourably.
If his father hadn’t died, Sebastian wondered for how much longer he had planned to allow the condition of the estate, and everything on it, to decay.
‘This place is incredibly pretty,’ Jess said, and Sebastian did his best to see the village through her eyes. Through the filter of viewing all of it for the first time.
But the filter kept slipping, rather like the roof tiles on the lean-to of the closest cottage, and he could barely muster a reply, let alone a positive one.
‘I suppose it is.’
‘Are dogs allowed in the pub?’ Jess asked.
Sebastian swallowed. The Old Goat was possibly the place in the village he felt least comfortable reintroducing himself, but perhaps that made it the best place to start. Jump in with both feet. He would have to see Catriona’s parents at some point, why not now? Get the pain over with before he had a chance to chicken out.
It looked as though the pub was doing good trade. A fair number of cars rested in the car park, some with foreign plates indicating bed-and-breakfast guests. And it was probably warm inside – he remembered the roaring open fires even though he hadn’t set foot in the place for years.
‘Digby will be very welcome,’ he said, almost adding that the dog would probably garner a warmer reception than he would. Pushing on the less-than-perfect black paint of the pub door, he held it open for Jess, as her little dog trotted in behind her.
A familiar mix of smells hit Sebastian as he followed Jess into the bar: beeswax polish, mixed with wet dog and the strong, malty smell of beer. All three were ingrained into the very fabric of the space. It was like going back in time, being a teenager again and having his first sample of cask beer when he slipped away from the castle to visit Catriona.
Seeing the man behind the bar was a blast from the past, too: Patrick McAllister, Catriona’s father – and judging by the rapid tumble of emotions crossing his expression as he looked up from the pint he was pouring and stared at Sebastian, memories of Sebastian’s relationship with his daughter were uppermost in his thoughts as well.
Sebastian felt his heart rate spike, a flood of adrenalin making his hands shake as he approached the bar.
With deliberate care, Patrick set the glass on the beer towel in front of the customer – an American tourist if the accent was anything to go by – and they both waited for the man to move away with his clutch of drinks to a table in the corner where his fellow compatriots were seated.
‘Your Lordship,’ Patrick said as way of greeting, the words as stilted as they exited his mouth as when they landed in Sebastian’s ears.
‘Patrick. It’s good to see you.’
The landlord raised his eyebrows, indicating the sentiment wouldn’t be boomeranging back. Instead, he said, ‘We were sorry to hear about your father’s unexpected …’
Sebastian nodded, thereby excusing the man from finishing the awkward sentence. He wondered which word the landlord would have chosen to complete the phrase. Death. Demise. Extra-marital sex-fest gone wrong …
He wouldn’t have blamed Patrick if he’d chosen another word altogether. Likekarma, for instance.
‘Thank you. It’s been a very difficult time for us all.’ Sebastian kept to the mantra he’d used repeatedly. He took a strange level of comfort in the fact that, although the words were hollow, they seemed to pacify the recipients. Almost as though nobody cared all that much, and everyone was simply going through the motions. ‘Is Kitty here? I wanted to thank her for the shortbread.’
‘Out for the day, I’m afraid. I’ll let her know you called by. I’m sureshe’llappreciate it.’
There was no misinterpreting the emphasis in his words and Sebastian felt his mouth run dry. The silence hung in the air for a beat too long before he managed to pluck up the courage to ask.
‘How’s Catriona?’
‘Aye. Doing well, now. Managing a fitness club in Aberdeen.’ Patrick tilted his head, defiance in his tone as he added, ‘There’s talk of her getting engaged to her man, too. He’s in the police. Doing his detective exams next year, I believe.’
‘That’s great to hear,’ Sebastian heard himself say. He couldn’t be anything but pleased that Catriona had moved on with her life, even though the knowledge was like a sharp kick to his solar plexus. ‘Would you pass on my best wishes?’ Sebastian turned to Jess, introducing her to Patrick McAllister even as his thoughts slipped away, back to the day his father had found out how seriously Sebastian had felt about Catriona.
Back to that conversation when his father had explained his philosophy about women and what they were for. Sebastian had never been able to look at either of his parents in the same way after that conversation. His father had explained that he split marriage and sex into separate categories, that monogamy wasn’t necessary in the circles men like them moved within, and that Sebastian’s mother should count herself lucky he hadn’t got a couple of permanent mistresses tucked away in apartments in Inverness.
Sebastian remembered thinking that his father genuinely believed he was schooling his son in the ways of the world – or at least, hisworld – but remained convinced there would be room for debate, space for change. Maybe even a more modern, less archaic future. But when he told his father he was falling in love with Catriona, his father’s tone had changed, hardened. He’d presented Sebastian with a piece of information which had altered everything. It had ruined his understanding of the love he thought he’d found with Catriona, taken him out at the knees, and he still wasn’t sure he’d fully recovered.
Sebastian had left that room shaking, his father’s words echoing in his head.
Shortly afterwards, and with his emotions in tatters, Sebastian had broken off his relationship with Catriona. His sense of betrayal had been all-consuming, he had had no idea how to even attempt to come to terms with the situation. Instead, he’d made a mess of his faked reasons for breaking up with her and left her devastated, before staying away from the village until he left for London.
