She’d left Watersmeet itself to him with no strings attached. Nothing to say he couldn’t turf the animals off the land and sell the whole place, lock, stock and barrel.
What made her think he wouldn’t?
But he hadn’t, had he? Because the thought of letting her down after all she’d done for him had been too much to bear. And because the animals depended on him, and Watersmeet was the first place they’d ever been truly loved and cared for.
And because, deep down, he’d fallen in love with the place, and the thought of staying there and making a home for himself – somewhere he could, one day maybe, invite his children to stay – was what kept him going most days. It was all he’d had to cling on to, until Alison walked back into his life.
And now she was gone, and he couldn’t believe it, and a part of him was terrified. Because what if the pain of her loss tipped him over the edge once more? It was what she’d expect, no doubt. Stella. And maybe even Alison. But she couldn’t stay with him to make sure he didn’t gamble. He wouldn’t want her to.
He just didn’t know how he was going to start over yet again, putting aside the dream he’d begun to build. The dream he’d begun to believe in. A home, a wife, a family – because Alison came with the whole mad Wainwright clan in tow, he had no doubt about that, and he loved it. It had all collapsed around his ears, and here he was again. Just him. Trying to believe he could be better this time.
‘Well,’ he said with a shrug, ‘that’s Mum for you. She must have had her reasons.’
She believed in me. She trusted me.Therewasno other explanation. Her faith in him was humbling and made him quite emotional. He was relieved when Gavin changed the subject.
‘So, this business venture,’ Gavin said. ‘I like the sound of it very much. It seems to me that you’ve got a good idea there.’
‘It does?’ Mac asked hopefully. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit vague?’
‘Well, a bit, but most business ideas start that way. I think it’s got great potential.’ He sighed. ‘I can understand the need for it, too. The way the world is today, we all need somewhere we can escape to. Somewhere we can chill out, with no internet, no mobile phone or laptop, no fancy gadgets, and no bloody twenty-four-hour news channels. Just the stars and the river, and peace, and time. I could do with a bit of that myself.’
‘But it’s more than that,’ Mac said. ‘It’s like I told you – so many parents are estranged from their children for whatever reason. Weekend dads. Parents who work too hard and never get to spend any time with their kids. Families who’ve lost touch and don’t know how to reconnect. Watersmeet could be somewhere they come to stay for a few days, and with no other interruptions, they get to talk to each other.’
‘They can do that in McDonald’s though,’ Gavin said.
Mac laughed. ‘No, they can’t! Not like this anyway. I was thinking about them sleeping under the stars, sitting round a campfire talking, maybe doing some beach activities, learning to cook together – whatever they feel like. I was in the Cubs and Scouts long enough. I could certainly put together some activities that they’d enjoy – all optional of course. And then there’s the animals. Nothing bonds people more than stroking Highland cattle, or grooming old ponies, or collecting eggs from hens and ducks.’
He remembered the evenings he’d spent with Alison, leaning on the fence, admiring Ellen MacKenzie and Jamie Fraser. How they’d ushered the ducks and the hens into their little houses, making sure they were safely shut away for the night. Checking the old ponies were all right and had enough food and water.
‘It teaches responsibility, too,’ he said. ‘We all need to learn that, don’t we?’
‘So, this “sleeping under the stars” bit. You’re thinking of providing tents?’
‘Possibly,’ Mac said.
‘Sounds a bit grim. Not many people would pay good money to stay under canvas with no mod cons. You’ll need something a bit more glamorous than that if you’re going to make this pay.’
‘Not static caravans,’ Mac said, shaking his head. ‘I’m not having water pipes laid all over the place, and electricity cables, and gas bottles, and cars parked up. Before I knew it, I’d be opening a clubhouse and a launderette.’
‘I wasn’t thinking static caravans,’ Gavin said, waving his hand as if dismissing the idea. ‘You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear on that score.’
‘Glamping pods then? Yurts?’
Gavin rubbed his chin. ‘I was thinking something with a bit of rustic charm. What about shepherd’s huts? You’d need planning permission, of course, because you’re planning to make money from them, but they look really classy.’
‘Shepherd’s huts?’ Mac leaned back and tilted his head, thinking about it. ‘I hadn’t thought…’
‘Well, maybe you should. They’re increasingly popular, you know, and you don’t need to connect them to any mains if you choose off-grid models. You can make them look smashing inside. I’ve got a pal in the trade who sells them, either ones you put together yourself or ready to move into. He’d put a few your way, if you’re interested.’
‘I’m not sure,’ Mac said doubtfully. ‘I mean, they sound great, but they also sound expensive, and I’m not exactly rolling in money.’
‘You have your inheritance,’ Gavin pointed out. ‘And it’s yours whenever you want it. All you have to do is get Stella on board. If you can convince her that this is a good investment, she’ll hand over the money and away you go.’
‘As easy as that?’ Mac gasped. ‘You havemetmy sister?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Gavin said dryly. ‘I know her quite well. But she’s always had a soft spot for you, and if you just?—’
‘Not any more,’ Mac said glumly. ‘Truth is, right now she hates my guts.’
