‘Iam“someone from the hotel”, young lady,’ the Laird growls, glaring at her from underneath a pair of very bushy eyebrows. ‘Although it’s really that nephew of mine you want to get on the case. Where is he, anyway?’
Zara glances at me, and I shift uneasily from foot to foot.
‘Did you know?’ she asks in a low voice. ‘That it was Hunter?’
‘No,’ I confirm miserably. ‘No, I found out at the same time as everyone else. I .?.?. look, I don’t know where he is. We’re just going to have to manage without him.’
Zara briefly closes her eyes, as if she’s trying to make up her mind about something.
‘Right,’ she says, opening them again. ‘Here’s what we do: we .?.?. Oh, thank God, here’s Dante.’
Dante comes sidling silently into the room to the accompaniment of a particularly dramatic bolt of lightning. The Laird imperiously beckons him over, and I shrink back behind Zara, willing him not to notice me.
I’m going to have to apologise at some point for trying to call him out like that in front of everyone; and being wrong about it, into the bargain.
‘We don’t have enough rooms for everyone,’ says Dante, snapping back into manager mode once Zara’s explained the situation for a second time. ‘So I’d suggest we allocate the rooms we do have to the people who need them most, then we can get blankets and pillows from the laundry for everyone else. If you’re sure you reallywantall of them to stay here, that is?’
‘Yes, yes,’ says the Laird impatiently. ‘They must all stay. Wouldn’t put a dog out in weather like this. Not that one, though,’ he adds, pointing at me. ‘That one has to go.’
I blink rapidly, then look quickly over my shoulder, just to make sure there isn’t someone standing behind me.
But there isn’t. And from the way the old man is glaring at me, it seems pretty obvious who his ire is directed at. My stomach gives a nervous little gurgle which, unfortunately for me, sounds freakishly loud, even with all the background noise.
‘Rosie?’ says Zara, with a confused frown. ‘You don’t wantRosieto stay? But .?.?. why?’
‘Well, because she’s a spy, of course,’ the Laird says, his eyebrows shooting up towards his fluffy head. ‘I’m not having a spy on the property one moment longer. Go on, get off with you,’ he adds, shaking his whisky tumbler in my direction, and making the liquid inside spill out on the floor. ‘Off you go.’
‘I .?.?. I’m not aspy,’ I say shakily, aware of everyone’s eyes upon me. ‘I’m notanyone, really. I’m just Rosie.’
‘That’s right,’ says the Laird, as if this confirms it. ‘Rosie the spy. That’s what I said, didn’t I?’
‘But Rosie isn’t aspy,’ Zara says soothingly. ‘You’re not, are you?’ she adds, under her breath.
‘No! Of course not,’ I gasp, more and more convinced that this is some kind of weird nightmare, and I’ll wake up from it soon. ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’
‘I think I do,’ says Dante, a small flush of colour spreading unexpectedly across his high cheekbones. Before he can go on, though, there’s a loud crashing sound from somewhere outside the window – the kind of sound you just know doesn’t mean anything good.
As one, we all dash for the windows, cupping our hands against the glass in order to see out.
‘Shit,’ says Dante, running an exasperated hand through his dark hair. ‘I think there’s a tree down in the driveway. I need to find Hunter.’
He disappears out through the double doors and, a few minutes later, we see his shadowy form, accompanied by the familiar (to me, at least) figure of Hunter appear on the front steps, both of them holding the collars of their coats up to shield them against the wind and rain. We all stand there watching as they make their way down the driveway, to where we can just see the hulking form of something black and huge blocking the gates.
This doesnotlook good.
Sure enough, when the two men finally rejoin us in the ballroom, their hair plastered to their foreheads and water dripping from their clothes, I can tell by Hunter’s face that I’m not going to like what he has to say.
‘There’s a tree down just in front of the gates,’ he announces, directing his words to Lord Glenmuir, and carefully avoiding looking at me. ‘One of the big ones. It hasn’t hit anything, thankfully, but it’s going to take a bit of work to move it. I’ll make a start on it first thing tomorrow, but it might take me a bit of time. It’s going to have to be chopped up before it can be moved, and nothing’s getting through those gates until it is.’
There’s a low murmur of discontent from the assembled villagers, who seem less keen on being forced to stay in the lap of luxury now that it’s the bawbag nephew who’s telling them about it.
I guess I’m not the only one who feels let down by him right now.
‘We’ll worry about that in the morning,’ says Dante firmly, before the complaints can get out of hand. ‘For now, we need to just concentrate on finding everyone somewhere to sleep. Where’s Agnes?’
He turns to look for her, and Hunter reluctantly meets my eyes.
You OK?he mouths cautiously in my direction. I nod slowly. I’mnotOK, as it happens. Someone’s trying to scare me, there’s a red warning in effect over the entire area according to Google and the Laird has just accused me of being a spy.
