“Who’s the point on that now, Gleeson?”
“Not anymore, he’s out. Send it to Dench and cc me when she responds.”
Nancy nodded. “Anything else for the Tokyo trip in September?”
“Yeah, can you reconfirm the off-grid site visit? Weston will want to see that in action.” I made a note for myself to prepare Weston a one-pager on our solar initiatives.
“On it,” Nancy said, making her own notes.
“Can you follow up with me when you get a response?”
She nodded.
Shuffle. Thunk. Shuffle.
I glanced at the window, then away again.
“Your Scottish ghost back?”
“Ha! Maybe. Also, I’m also sending through some documents on the Scottish seabed rights to the legal team. So please keep an eye on the general inbox and ping me as soon as a response comes through. I want to get Weston on a call with them ASAP.”
“Busy week,” Nancy said.
I gave her a wan smile. Kincaid Energy was a billion-dollar empire. They wereallbusy weeks. “Any questions?”
She shook her head.
“Perfect. Keep me looped in via email. Call me with any emergencies. I’ll check in tomorrow.” I reviewed my list one more time. “Okay, I think that’s it,”
Shuffle. Thunk. Shuffle. Thunk.
I waved and ended the call, jumping to my feet.
Thunk. Thunk! THUNK!
I darted to the window, peering out at the estate garden. Rows of neatly manicured hedges stared back at me. Then POP! I startled as a scruffy head appeared out of one of the hedges?—
—and then I laughed. It was only a pony. One of those tiny Shetland ponies by the looks of it. This one had the kitchen scrap trash can stuck on its muzzle.
Judging by the buttercream smeared up its dark brown coat, the rascal must have gotten into the leftovers from last night’s impromptu party.
I knocked on the window, hoping it might scare the pony into shaking the trash can free, but no such luck. I sighed and headed for the locked door next to the fireplace, exiting into the garden. It was warmer out here than inside, and the scent of peat and rain lingered pleasantly.
“Hey,” I said. “C’mere.”
The pony trotted away from me through the hedges, and I surged after it, down gravel paths lined with rose bushes and past beds of flowers interrupted by the occasional moss-covered statue. It had rained recently, and the dew soaked through my shoes. It would have been quite a lovely walk, if I hadn’t been chasing down a pony who thought this was all a grand game, and who proved to beverygood at ducking out of reach.
I rounded the end of a weathered bench and finally latched onto the trash can, yanking it free to find a mouth of giant buttercream-frosted teeth smiling back at me. “Gross.”
The pony neighed, shaking its long mane and going straight for the trash can again. I held it out of reach.
“I think you’ve had more than enough.”
The pony answered by bopping me in the legs.Hard.
“Ow! Hey!” I complained. It was stronger than it looked. “Why don’t you go back home? Shoo. Go on!” Callum had mentioned that Lochbrae grazed sheep and cattle, with some working horses, but why the hell was there a pony in the garden?
Was the area not fenced to keep the working animals in and the wild animalsout?
