To that end, I’ve had a word with our local store in the village, and asked them to forward your bills to me to settle as part of your accommodation package. The same goes if you’d like to eat out at the Loch Cameron Inn – the landlady, Dotty, will take good care of you. Don’t worry about paying for any living costs while you’re in Loch Cameron, basically! I’m so grateful that you could come and help us out with the May Day party at such late notice.
Please give me a call if you need anything else, and I’ll look forward to meeting you at the castle at 10am on Wednesday.
Yours sincerely,
Hal Cameron
Deb smiled to herself, made her cup of tea and took the packet of shortbread biscuits out of the gift basket. She carriedthem into the cute cottage bedroom, where she melted into a comfy, large mattress atop a white painted cast iron bed.
Propping herself up on some pillows, she sipped her tea and opened the biscuits, taking a bite of one. Its buttery sweetness filled her mouth, and she sighed happily.
Soon, work would begin. But, for today, she could put her feet up, safe in the knowledge that this job would solve her money worries for now. However, as she was self-employed, and now possibly single, Deb didn’t have the luxury of a buffer or a fallback or someone to look after her if she didn’t work. She’d covered her own time off, for the operation, but now it was important that she get back to it – even if she could have done with resting up for a little longer. That was how it was, being an independent businesswoman, but she wasn’t complaining. Her mum, Janice, had brought her up not to complain, and it ran deep. Deb knew she found it hard to really open up and let anyone in. And even now, when Janice needed regular dialysis, she wouldn’t accept the help Deb was offering.
Deb closed her eyes, propping the mug on her chest. She was tired, but she was also glad she’d come to Loch Cameron. It was good to be away from Dan, and away from the flat. Here, at least, she could think in peace.
However, she had a big task ahead of her, and she really needed the money to get back on track with work. Deb couldn’t afford to have a lot of time off work unpaid. She couldn’t pay herself sick pay. She needed this job, and she needed to impress the laird.
He had seemed nice in his letters and emails so far, but what if he was some kind of ultra-demanding, upper-class autocrat? Would he be one of those work contacts who would fire off twenty emails a day at her from abroad, demanding constant updates, abrupt changes to the plan and ridiculously high standards? She hoped not, but it was possible. And the factthat Hal Cameron was willing to pay her twice what she would normally charge for a job was brilliant, but it also gave Deb pause.
Did Hal Cameron think that, now he’d bought her services at such a high price, that meant that he could make her work around the clock and answer every unreasonable whim he might have? She hoped this wasn’t the reason for the laird’s largesse, but whatever the reason, she’d said yes to the job now. She was here.
A thread of doubt unfurled in Deb’s stomach. She hoped that she wouldn’t regret taking on organising the May Day party. She could really do with peace and tranquillity right now, and a demanding boss was the last thing she needed.
FOUR
The old Loch Cameron Folly was built by the then-Laird, Donald Cameron, in 1935, as an amusement for his friends. The Laird, a renowned socialite, was known for his lavish parties and exuberant tastes. Tales are told of scantily-clad waitresses carrying crystal drinks trays on their heads, and mysterious entertainers who were said to be able to levitate and summon ghostly apparitions.
The folly can be found on Gyle Head, a clifftop five miles from Loch Cameron’s Queen’s Point. Gyle Head was sold to developers in 2015, but organisational difficulties meant that the land remained wild. The area remains open to the public.
Deb had waited patiently for the man to move, but he was standing in the middle of the road, on his phone, and showed no sign of having even seen her.
Which is stupid, she thought, as she beeped her horn,because I am literally sitting here in a damned Land Rover. Can he really not see me?!
She’d got up that morning and felt surprisingly rested, considering that she was sleeping in a different bed than herown. But, she’d woken to birdsong and a soft breeze blowing through her open window. The soft, clean flowered quilt tucked cosily around her body smelt softly of a light floral scent, with an undercurrent of that clean laundry smell that Deb associated with home. Not necessarilyhomewith Dan, buthome– her real, true home – with Janice when she was a child. Deb held the covers to her nose and inhaled a grateful deep breath.
Dan hadn’t been best pleased when he realised she really was leaving. But she’d ignored his snide comments, likeI thought you weren’t well enough to work yetandIf I paid you, I wonder if you’d suddenly find the time to hoover.
He’d said that before she’d left. She’d reminded him of her daily rate and said she’d be happy if he wanted to pay it, before pulling the car door closed and driving off.
She’d decided to go out for a drive to explore the surrounding area and, on looking at the map on her phone, saw that the Gyle Head Folly she’d read about before coming up to Loch Cameron was only a few miles away. A little drive, and a trip to find some groceries felt doable and not too strenuous.Relax while you can, she reminded herself.You need all the recuperation you can get.
Yet, here she was, in the middle of nowhere, and some guy was in her way.
It was typical. You can drive into the literal middle of nowhere, and there would still be a man,being an obstacle, Deb thought as she beeped the Land Rover’s horn again. The road was narrow and there wasn’t enough room to go around him.
He turned towards her and frowned. Deb expected him to step aside and let her through – the sat nav was pointing up this road, to the old ruin which was apparently at the end of it. Instead, the man approached her window and gestured with his finger that she should roll down the window.
‘This is a private road,’ he said, as soon as she’d wound the window down. ‘I’m expecting a couple of trucks up here any minute, so you’ll need to move.’ He was about her age, tall – she estimated six foot two or three – and wearing a pair of grey jogging bottoms, a plain black sweatshirt and trainers. He had a trimmed black beard, and she noticed immediately that the way he stood suggested that he worked out. Deb had an initial impression of a kind of relaxed yet muscular masculinity in him, like a lion that was preserving his energy, but ready to hunt at any moment.
‘Excuse me?’ Deb frowned at him. His tone was dismissive, and it put her back up straightaway. ‘There wasn’t a sign to say I couldn’t come up here. I’m looking for the ruin.’
‘The folly. Yeah. It’s private land,’ he repeated, taking off his black aviator-style sunglasses and meeting her eyes. ‘Sorry. You’ll have to turn around.’
His eyes were surprising: an icy, light blue for such dark hair and beard, and with long, dark lashes that added a softness to his otherwise serious expression. Close up, Deb could also see that he had high cheekbones and a classic kind of look to his face.Beautiful, she thought: the word popped into her mind without her intending it to.
However, the man’s tone and his insistence that Deb was wrong annoyed her. Random men telling her what to do in public had never exactly been her favourite thing:smile, it might never happen, darlin’!shouted at you from building sites, men at events who assumed she was on the wait staff, and not in fact the person in charge; random men in public places who thought they could tell her where she could and couldn’t go.
I don’t think so, she thought.Beautiful or not.
