‘Yes,’ said Xanthe, looking very pleased with herself. ‘Mrs McPherson, the woman that runs the post office – you know, the one with the teeth? By the way, do you think they have dentists round here? I’ve got a filling which feels a bit loose…’
Izzy sighed. Her mother was a great one for going off on nonsensical tangents.
‘What is this about Mrs McPherson?’
‘Well, she was the one that sent him up here a few weeks ago. She knew … well, of course she knew. She’s the post mistress and they always know everything, don’t they? Anyway she told him about how we’re planning to open as a hotel and he wanted somewhere to stay with complete quiet – he’s writing a book – and as we haven’t got any other guests at present, I thought we fitted the bill perfectly.’
Izzy gritted her teeth. ‘We haven’t got any other guests because we’re not ready for guests.’
‘Pish, sweetie. We have rooms. You should see what I’ve done with the drawing room while you’ve been away. And he’s quite happy to fend for himself. In fact, I barely see him. More’s the pity, he’s very easy on the eye.’
‘That’s not the point.’ Izzy swallowed.
‘He said we won’t even know he’s here.’ Her mother’s voice, loud already, went up another couple of decibels. ‘He’s a writer. A history professor on sabbatical. Honestly, darling, he spends all day in his room, goes for walks and then spends all night up there. Terribly boring, actually, although I’m hoping he’s one of those tall, dark and brooding types. Still waters and all that. Do you think there’s some passion bubbling under that laid-back exterior? Anyway, he really is no trouble. Now come see what I’ve done.’
Before Izzy could say another word, her mother wafted away in her cloud of purple. With an exasperated sigh, she followed her across the hall to the north corridor and down another hallway covered in a very threadbare tartan carpet, bits of which were stuck down with glossy grey gaffer tape. It obviously needed to be replaced before someone tripped on one of the ragged edges and broke their neck. Another reason why they couldn’t have a guest yet. Health and safety would have a field day here.
‘Oh, and one more thing. Why is there a skull and srossbones flying from the tower?’
‘Isn’t it fun? I found it in one of the trunks in the attic and I thought, why not. It will let the neighbours know we’re in residence.’
Izzy smiled. Typical Xanthe.
‘Tah-da.’ Xanthe announced in her booming voice, throwing open a door at the end of the hallway.
Izzy stepped into the drawing room, which had four large windows overlooking the loch and a further two windows at the end. The light in here had always been wonderful, so much so that it had unfortunately highlighted the faded paint on the walls, the exuberant collection of cobwebs around the dusty plasterwork ceiling and the sun-bleached upholstery of the furniture – but all that had gone.
‘Oh my goodness,’ exclaimed Izzy. ‘This is gorgeous.’
Her mother had completely overhauled the room. Tasteful mid-green paint – which probably had some name like ‘forest sage’ or ‘deepening grass’ – covered the walls, the ceiling had been whitened and the windows were dressed with drapes on either side of Roman blinds in familiar-looking sumptuous fabrics. Izzy also recognised some of the pictures and antiques, which had been brought in from other parts of the castle to create this cosy, stylish lounge.
‘I know,’ Xanthe said smugly.
‘How did you…?’ While her mother was extremely creative, she wasn’t that practical. However, when she set her mind to something she could also be extremely pig-headed and determined, especially if she wanted to prove someone wrong.
‘I winkled Duncan out of the estate office and he helped me move the furniture about.’ Izzy stared at her. ‘Don’t you love the throws? Feel them; they’re so soft. I made them from some old blankets I found in the trunks up in the attics. Such fun searching through them. I must say they did proper housekeeping in those days; everything was wrapped up with mothballs, and I also made the blinds out of a couple of pairs of curtains from one of the bedrooms. They’d only faded around the edges, so I was able to use almost all of the fabric. And then the drapes are for decoration but I made them from the originals and cut off all the sun damage. Pretty, aren’t they?’
Izzy had to admit they were. ‘Very resourceful. You’ve done a brilliant job, Mum.’
‘Resourceful is my middle name and it’s “Xanthe”, darling,’ her mother corrected.
‘This room looks brand new.’ Izzy paused looking again at the pristine walls. ‘Did you do this painting?’
Xanthe laughed. ‘Good lord, no. I got a man in, darling.’ She waved her glossy nails. ‘There’s no one for miles to do my nails. He did a jolly good job although I had to get someone in to replaster the walls first.’
Izzy gulped. ‘How much did that cost?’
She rammed her hands into her jeans’ pockets and gritted her teeth in a facsimile of a smile. They’d talked about this. Izzy was going to do that sort of work herself to save money – well, not plastering, of course, but filling cracks, making do.
Her mother smiled a touch too smugly for Izzy’s liking. ‘I know what you’re thinking. We can’t afford it but…’ She tapped her nose.
‘We agreed we’d do as much of the work as we can ourselves.’ Painting was definitely one thing that Izzy could do herself.
‘You’re forgetting something.’
Izzy eyed her mother. ‘What?’
‘Professor Strathallan paid for the first month in advance.’
