‘Ha, yes.’ Grete beamed. ‘With also chocolate dessert. Not Scottish, but it is what I like.’
Ezz noted that on her pad. ‘I look forward to seeing you at Rothach again on …’ she glanced at her calendar ‘… Saturday. You need only tell me if you’d like meeting at an airport.’ They often flew into Inverness, but Glasgow was also feasible.
Grete hesitated. ‘Let me return to you on that.Meanwhile, I will send Gwen a shopping list. Oh, and Esmerelda, Mats will also contact you very soon with his own arrangements.’
Ezzie hesitated. Gwen filling the cupboards and fridge as requested was nothing new, but Mats calling Ezzie directly was. The eldest of Grete and Erik’s children, he was active in the family business. She’d interacted with him, his wife Inger and their children when the family spent summers at Rothach, but only superficially. Mats was tall, fair and good-looking. Inger was so polished and beautiful that she’d made Ezz feel like a conker husk, and habitually issued orders for her family without even looking up from her phone. Though Ezz wondered what ‘arrangements’ Grete could be alluding to, she didn’t want to break the rule of questioning her employer so said calmly, ‘Of course.’
Grete ended with a brisk but friendly goodbye. Then Ezz was free to arch her eyebrows and let her face reflect her thoughts – which were:Why is Grete coming to Skye for so long without Erik? And why would Mats Larsson want to speak to me?
As she had no choice but to wait and see, she stacked the boxes of Christmas decorations to the floor for now and began to research quality Skye hotels that they might work with on Grete’s new project.
In a good suburb of snowy Gothenburg in south-west Sweden, Mats Larsson stared from his apartment window watching his children, three-year-old Alvin and five-year-old Astrid, skipping around the gated gardens belonging to his apartment block. Alvin’s snowsuit was green and Astrid’s purple with silver stars. Their nanny, Josefin, who was happy to act as if she were five rather than fifty-five,kicked snow into glistening arcs that made the children scream with laughter as the spicules blew back into their pink-cheeked faces.
Mats smiled. Nobody could fail to be cheered by laughing children. Alvin plopped backwards into a miniature snowdrift and Josefin swooped him up, turning a bumped bottom into something else to giggle over. Josefin was a prize – overpaid, judging by what he knew other parents shelled out, but worth every krona. He’d gone for a Swedish nanny this time, though one with good English. He, his brother Jonas and sister Maja had all been brought up to be bilingual, and were each doing the same for their children.
He moved his gaze to the phone in his hand, rereading his mother’s message of five minutes ago, informing him that she’d told Esmerelda Wynter, the manager at the family’s second home in Scotland, to expect his call. Mats and Grete had made their travel plans despite frowns from his larger-than-life father – amiably bossy, lovingly impatient, and always mercurial – Erik. At forty-six, Mats was more than capable of running his own life, but he didn’t often disregard his dad’s opinion quite as directly as he presently was.
Mats tapped Esmerelda Wynter’s number in his phone’s contact list. As he listened to the calling tone, an image sprang to his mind of the efficient, blonde, blue-eyed Englishwoman in neat heels and a severe uniform that flattered her tall, slender figure. Dad had sacked the last manager, unctuous Tavish. His parents had told him the story, but this year had been so stressful that it had fallen through the cracks of his mind, especially as Ms Wynter seemed a nicer person than Tavish and his parents held her in high regard. He watched Astrid, Alvin and Josefinheaping up snow that he judged would soon become a snowman, patting handfuls of it onto the fat white body. Every face wore a smile.
A smooth, female voice echoed in his ear. ‘Ezzie Wynter. Good afternoon.’
‘Good afternoon, Ezzie,’ he answered briskly, glad she’d reminded him of her preferred name. ‘This is Mats Larsson. I’m calling to say that I’ll be arriving at Rothach Hall on Saturday with my two children and their nanny.’ Then he wished he’d thought to begin with, ‘How are you?’ as he would have if he didn’t have so much on his mind. She was a pleasant, polite person and he didn’t mean to be aloof. He continued, ‘I know my mother’s already contacted you. We’ll be arriving together. I hope you’ll be able to find my nanny, Josefin, a room close to the children – one that won’t be needed when the rest of the family arrive for Christmas.’
‘Of course,’ she replied serenely. ‘Everything will be ready for you.’
‘So, that’s three adults and two children arriving on Saturday, November 9th,’ he emphasised, in case her controlled response arose from not grasping the imminence of the visit. He pictured her behind the desk in the manager’s office, sharp-but-pretty features composed as she agreed with all he said. Tavish would have managed to convey a hint of reproach in his polite replies, letting Mats know that everythingwouldbe ready, but that not every employee would be capable of such wizardry. ‘Can somebody meet us at Inverness Airport if I send flight details? The seven-seater Volvo will be spacious enough, with the roof box for luggage.’
‘Of course,’ she repeated.
He watched Astrid knock Alvin into a snowdrift andAlvin decide to laugh rather than cry. The little boy staggered to his feet in his tiny green snow suit, then brought up a handful of snow and squashed it into his sister’s face. Mats grinned with parental pride, both because Alvin had evidently been planning his reprisal while he was down and because Astrid squealed with laughter, rather than getting upset. Yet somehow, the sight of his children being adorable, sparked anger – not at them, of course, but at Andreas who’d uncaringly split up Mats’ family over a year ago without apparently worrying about the effect on the children. There had been no point remonstrating with Inger for not trying harder at a marriage they’d both known wasn’t working, but her affair with Andreas had also been a blow to Mats’ pride.
He sighed. A sojourn in the Isle of Skye would be a distraction for Alvin and Astrid and provide Mats with some much-needed peace. The children usually saw their loving grandmother every week or two, but her holidaying with them for a couple of months would be a bonus. Then, in a few weeks, their grandfather, uncles, aunts and five cousins would descend to play Christmas games and eat Christmas goodies and share in the mountain of Christmas gifts.
‘Mr Larsson?’ The tentative voice in his ear reminded him that Ezzie Wynter waited patiently on the other end of the phone.
‘Mats,’ he corrected her, feeling unreasonably pricked at her formality. He cast around for something he could have been mulling over to account for his silence. ‘I hope it’s possible to have toys delivered to Rothach?’ In all the upheaval, he hadn’t yet bought a single Christmas gift.
‘Of course,’ Ezzie replied. ‘Delivery times are usually a little longer than to the mainland, that’s all.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll see you on Saturday.’
‘It will be a pleasure to see your family back at Rothach Hall,’ she responded with extreme courtesy, before they ended the call. Although Mats understood why his dad had promoted Ezzie, her decorum was overdone for his taste. Tavish had been the same. Larsson Fiskeri did business in the UK and, judging from that experience, other Brits spoke normally.
After a glance outside to check the children still played happily and were unlikely to come up to the apartment in the next five minutes, he dialled again. After a moment, he heard the familiar gruff, ‘Hallå, Mats.’
Automatically, he switched to Swedish. ‘Hej,Pappa. Just letting you know that we’ve confirmed our arrangements to leave for Skye tomorrow. We’ll be waiting for you when you come for Christmas.’
Erik gave a disapproving snort. ‘This is unnecessary. You have Nanny Josefin to look after your children. I don’t see why you’re taking a long leave. You’re so impetuous, Mats.’
Mats rubbed his forehead. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called that. ‘I want to be with my children at a difficult time for them, Pappa. I don’t approve of Inger taking an extended holiday away from the kids any more than you do, but getting engaged to Andreas, a rich man, has gone to her head. The kids will miss her while she’s on a superyacht for three months with Andreas and his friends. They’ve had too much to deal with this year. I’m needed more as a father than as chief financial officer of Larsson Fiskeri.’ Josefin valiantly divided her time between Inger’s house and his apartment just as Astrid and Alvin shared their week between the two, but since the breakdown of his marriage, Mats had become a more hands-on dad.Bath-time bubbles and book-time cuddles had quickly shown him what he used to miss out on every time he was late home from work. He took a breath and softened his tone. ‘I work hard enough to justify a rare long leave, don’t I? I have an efficient deputy and I’ll be contactable by phone or email, just as you are when you’re at Rothach. I’ll return in January. The children aren’t even atdagishere. Next year, Astrid will begin compulsory education and the opportunity will be gone.’ There was no point in sending the children todagis– day care – when they had a nanny.
Half-heartedly, Erik grumbled, ‘I’ll never retire if my children don’t take the company seriously.’
Mats smothered a laugh. ‘If all our family members resigned tomorrow, Larsson Fiskeri would sail on with others in our roles. That’s how business works, and you created an exceptional business.’
‘Hm.’ Erik sighed. ‘At least your mother will have your company. Travel safely.’ Then he was gone, Mats’ quirky, growly dad, who’d worked so hard all his life that he was finding it hard to stop.
Mats checked outside again, squinting against the glare of the snow to locate his two blond cherubs, smiling as he caught the bubbling sound of Alvin’s laughter. His priority was those two figures in colourful snowsuits. Everything else came second – even the family business. He’d leave it if he had to.
