Settling down to work after texting Mats about dinner, Ezz made steady inroads into negotiating with a printing company for next year’s pamphlets designed to attract visitors to enjoy Rothach Hall and its grounds and then paid invoices from the tree surgeon and the company that supplied cleaning materials.
Immediately after Ezz had eaten a sandwich at her desk, Gwen arrived, her long raincoat open over her striped housekeeper’s uniform. ‘The wee ’uns can eat more than a plague of locusts,’ she announced with a broad smile. ‘Caitriona and I are going shopping. Young Walter consumes so much Irn-Bru and shortbread, I think he must be trying to turn Scottish. Is there anything you’ll be needing?’
‘Fresh basil, if they have some please,’ Ezz answered, thinking about this evening’s dinner, and passed over the money.
Mats arrived about three, wandered into her office, kissed her just below her ear and said, ‘Spreadsheet time. Yes, please, to dinner. Mum says to remind you aboutfikaon Sunday, the last advent before Christmas.’ Then he strolled out again in the direction of the assistant manager’s cubicle, leaving her smiling.
For the rest of the afternoon, she was aware of the tapping of his keyboard reaching her faintly whenever hers was quiet. At five-thirty, she shut down her machine. She had a meal to prepare, and her routine had been disrupted so much lately that she was behind with laundry and other household chores.
Rain was still lashing the window when Ezz heard the opening of the hall’s front door and it closing with a bang.
Then Mats’ voice exclaimed, ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Ezz paused, frowning. Who? And why did Mats sound so curt?
A calm female voice answered. ‘I’ve come to see my children.’
A horrible sensation seized Ezz’s chest, as if her heart had turned to rock and was rolling slowly towards her toes. The voice was familiar and Ezz had a nasty feeling that it was Inger, Mats’ ex, Astrid and Alvin’s mother.
‘How did you get here?’ Mats sounded bewildered.
The female voice neared Ezz’s office door. ‘We sailed to Monte Carlo after Corsica, as planned, but Andreas and I had a major disagreement.’
Shit. ItwasInger. Ezz froze at her desk, thoughts flying.
Inger continued impatiently. ‘His friends kindly lent me a car and I drove up through France, stopping overnight in Calais. Then I got the ferry across the Channel, drove through England, encountered snow in Scotland, so stopped again. Today I drove to Mallaig and took the car-ferry to Armadale. And here I am. Where are Astrid and Alvin?’
‘In the apartment,’ Mats began. ‘But—’
Then suddenly, Inger was standing in the door to Ezz’s office in a white overcoat with its hood thrown back, darkhair and full-face make-up immaculate. She didn’t smile. ‘My luggage is in the boot. When you’ve seen it’s brought in, perhaps you could park my car around the back for me. Thanks.’ And she tossed over a set of keys.
Ezz had to catch them or let them hit her in the face. Stupefied, she watched Inger turn, stalk across the lobby and open the white door. Apparently, if she’d changed in the year and a half since Ezz had last met her, it was only to become yet more entitled.
‘Inger!’ Mats barked. ‘Just hold on.’ He appeared in Ezzie’s line of sight, casting her a quick, grim: ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ then chased Inger through the door and out of sight.
Ezzie gazed at the door that snapped shut behind him. Her fingers still stung from fielding the rudely thrown car keys. Inger was here. If she’d spent her long journey planning how to remind Ezz that she was an employee, she couldn’t have done a better job.
When Mats didn’t reappear, she rose and slipped into her outdoor things. She strode from her office, across reception and through the front door, flinching as the rain flew into her face. At the foot of the steps stood a small but sporty white car – an Alpine, its badge said, a brand she’d never heard of, but it looked expensive. Five suitcases were jammed into the boot and on the seats. Five! One by one, rain seeping coldly down her neck, she hauled them up the steps and left them in a neat row outside the white door, remembering that she’d performed exactly the same task when Mats, Grete, Astrid and Alvin had first arrived.
Back at the car, with measured movements, she climbed into the driver’s seat – which was on the left – and drove around the building and parked. Then she took the backway into the hall and positioned the car keys neatly atop the largest case. Numbly, she retrieved her bag from her desk, and left for the evening.
Driving home along Manor Road, which had become single-track by virtue of the huge puddles at its edges, she supposed drearily that there would only be three for dinner. Mats would be busy.
