The Prodigal Son

by Les Haswell

  “Coming, Mum.” She hooked an arm through his. “I was about to say that there is a second garage and a gym, and a heated eight-metre pool behind them. I’ll show you later. We better have lunch now.”

  Lunch was leg of lamb cooked with garlic and rosemary, accompanied by a pleasant French red wine, and followed by red-berry Pavlova. The four talked easily and got to know a bit more about one another. When Justine and Rob began to provide a few details of the Achravie Estate regeneration project, Matt fetched his IPad to find out where the island was.

  After lunch, Justine showed Rob the garage, the gym and the heated swimming pool. Eventually, they found themselves on the riverbank, watching water rippling over stones and pebbles in the shallows and flowing gently round larger rocks and boulders in the main channel. Under the warmth of the late afternoon sun, Rob could feel tension ease as he watched and listened to the pleasing, almost hypnotic, sound.

  “Mum hinted to me before lunch that she and dad are thinking of selling and looking for something smaller. I know it’s selfish of me, but I’d be really sorry to see it go. I love it here,” Justine said softly as she stared across the river.

  A smile tugged at Rob’s lips. “That study … I was thinking about it. We could knock through to the garage and form a reception area, and a separate outside entrance. We wouldn’t need six bedrooms, so we could use the bedroom at the top of the stairs as a conference/meeting room. That would give us more office space than Harper MacLaine has at the moment. Joe lives in Beaconsfield, which would be closer to here than the office.” He hooked an arm around her waist. “It could work.”

  Justine gaped. “What?”

  “I said—”

  “I know what you said. I meant, what are you talking about?”

  “What if we bought the house?” Rob asked casually and shrugged.

  “If we bought the house?”

  “If we bought the house,” he grinned. “Your parents are looking to downsize. You love the place and just said that you’d be sorry to see it go. I really like it and it has the potential to make a good office for Harper MacLaine, if we converted the garage. It sounds to me like a perfect solution all round. What do you think? Aren’t you keen on the idea?”

  She scanned his face. “You’re serious?”

  “Do I not sound serious?”

  “I never know with you, Rob MacLaine. You could be serious or you could be winding me up.”

  “I wouldn’t wind you up about something like this.”

  “You’d really buy this house … because of me and how I feel about it?”

  “Of course!”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’d love to be able to buy the house. But … I’d want it in both our names. I’d want us to buy it together …. use the money from my flat as part payment.” She grinned and spun around with glee. “We could do this. We could buy Mum and Dad’s house and make it our own.”

  The thought of living in the house where she’d been brought up was so overwhelming, she almost cried with joy.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were to move in … as husband and wife?” Rob ventured.

  She looked at him, stunned. “Are asking me to marry you?”

  “Can you think of one good reason why we shouldn’t get married?

  “Are you really asking me to marry you?”

  Rob took Justine’s hand and painfully knelt in front of her. “Justine Fellows, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  “Yes, of course. I love you so much.”

  “I heard that,” said an excited Ingrid Fellows.

  Unbeknownst to the young couple, she’d strolled over to offer them coffee in the conservatory. She rushed forward to hug Justine, her expression, like her tone, filled with emotion. “Oh darling, I’m so pleased for you.”

  “I’m delighted you’re pleased, but if you could, please help my future wife to get me standing up again. Getting down on one knee may be fine when proposing marriage, but it’s not a good idea when you’ve got a gammy leg.” Rob laughed through the pain.

  The women carefully helped him upright, then hugged and kissed him. Justine threw her arms around him and held him tight, tears of happiness soaking into the collar of his shirt. Each hooked an arm through Rob’s and walked back to the house.

  “Thought you had got lost out there,” Matt joked when they entered. He noticed the expressions on the threesome’s faces. “Am I missing something?”

  “You better tell him before I do,” said an excited Ingrid.

  He looked from one face to the next. ”Tell me what?”

  “That Rob asked me to marry him,” Justine announced joyfully.

  “That’s wonderful, darling. Congratulations,” he said, rushing forward to hug and kiss his daughter, then shaking hands with his future son-in-law.

  “That’s not all,” Justine said elatedly. “If you are looking to sell the house, as you’ve hinted at, we would like to buy it.”

  “Funnily enough, I got a feeling that Rob was thinking along those lines when I spoke to him the other night,” Matt winked. “So your mum and I had a bit of a pow-wow about things. This house would have been yours one day anyway, you know that, but if we leave now, we need somewhere to live. We had the house valued a few weeks ago and the surveyor suggested we market it at around £1.8 million.

  “We’d need to spend about half that to get what we want—we’ve actually looked at a lovely three-bedroom terraced house in a development for over 55s in Beaconsfield.”

  Ingrid nodded. “We’d need about £900,000.”

  Matt smiled and draped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “If you gave us £900,000 for this house, you could have it now instead of later.”

  “It’s pure stupidity for you to buy a house that you’re going to inherit anyway,” Ingrid said. “But as your dad says, we need to live somewhere … so this is the best way to do it. Everybody wins.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” said Justine, looking stunned.

  “Just agree and save us all time,” Matt urged.

  Justine looked at Rob for guidance.

  “From a purely practical point of view, it’s an excellent solution,” he said. “I can see where you’re both coming from, but if you change your mind, we’ll give you full market price for the house.”

  “It makes perfect sense. We’ve no reason to change our minds,” Matt stated firmly.

  Rob nodded to Justine

  “Thank you Dad, Mum.” Justine hugged her parents. “With me selling my flat, we can move on your timetable. Just let us know when you want to move things along.”

  39

  Justine drove back to London saying very little and answering Rob’s questions with one-word answers. Eventually, he left her to her thoughts.

  Back in Rob’s apartment. Justine dropped her things and opened the terrace doors. She walked onto the terrace and gazed out over the river, the warm breeze blowing hair about her face. It was clear that she wanted some time alone, so he left her there and went into the bedroom.

  As he was hanging up a jacket, he became aware of her standing in the doorway.

  “You okay?” he asked, leaning into the wall.

  “Just thinking how my life has changed so much in so short a time.”

  “You having second thoughts?”

  “Absolutely not. I’ve never been so happy, or so busy. I’ve got Achravie to organise and now Mum and Dad’s house.” She sat on the edge of the bed.

  “And a wedding,” Rob added.

  “And a wedding,” she confirmed. “You’re mother and I saw the loveliest little church on Achravie, just outside the village. Can we get married there, please?”

  “On Achravie? Sure, if that’s what you want,” Rob agreed with a chuckle.

  “Do you really want to move into our new home as husband and wife?” Justine asked, regarding him closely.

  “That was just my way of broaching the subject. It probably wouldn’t work timescale-wise, unless we r
eally want it to. I think your mum and dad will move quickly; they seemed quite keen on that Beaconsfield house. We can use some of the Achravie funds, if need be, ‘till we sell this place, and then replace it.”

  “You’re going to sell this apartment?”

  “Why keep it? It’s brilliant as a bachelor pad, but even now it’s short on space. There’s the parking, as well. We only have two allocated parking spaces allocated—we have your car, my car, and the Beamer for work. Anyway, we won’t need this place plus your parent’s place.”

  “I suppose,” she said softly, looking past the window. “If you’re sure.”

  40

  The door buzzer sounded the next morning and Rob buzzed up Joe for a prearranged meeting to discuss two contract renewals.

  Justine stopped drying her hair to come and greet him, and to break the good news of their impending wedding.

  “That’s brilliant, guys. I’m so pleased for you, and Suzy will be delighted. So when’s the big day going to be?” enthused Joe.

  “That’s still up for discussion, but Tina wants us to get married in the little church on Achravie. With everything else that’s going on, it’ll take a month or two to make all the arrangements,” Rob explained.

  “What about a Hogmawhat wedding, New Year’s Eve … big celebration in your part of the world?”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Rob answered, grinning.

  “Hogmawhat?” asked Justine, visibly confused.

  “He means Hogmanay.”

  “That’s the one! New Year’s Eve to southern softies like us,” Joe said with a cheery smile.

  “New Year, new marriage. How does that sound? We could have a combined wedding, New Year celebration at Hillcrest. Pipers, ceilidh band, fireworks at midnight!”

  She looked from Rob to Joe and back again, then smiled. “That sounds amazing. Let’s do it. You’re not just a pretty face, Joe Harper,” Justine enthused.

  “Face is not that pretty either, when you look at it. Still if it’s well enough scrubbed on the day it would do for a best man and that’s not me asking, it’s me telling. If you and that interfering woman you married hadn’t sent this young lady to Corfu to look for me, this wouldn’t be happening” Rob laughed

  Joe frowned comically, “Of course I’m your best man. Who else would take on the responsibility of looking after you for an entire day, with your track record?”

  After telling Joe that they’d agreed to buy Justine’s parents’ house, Rob floated the idea of using part of the house as an office for Harper MacLaine. He showed Joe the floorplan of the property which Matt had prepared to give to an estate agent, and the two determined how the area could be utilised to form a reception area, office accommodations for Rob and Joe, office space for Justine and Achravie Estate, as well as a board/meeting room on the first floor.

  Joe liked the idea very much; it would cut down his commute by over two hours a day, and save on overhead at the same time. There was still more than enough space for future expansion, if need be, and he gave his approval.

  After Joe left, Rob called his mother to tell her that he and Justine were getting married and had decided to have the ceremony on Achravie on New Year’s Eve.

  Elisabeth was delighted and promised that both she and Richard would be there on the day.

  41

  Time passed quickly. During one of the regular Skype calls, Angus said he’d break a promise he had made to himself after their Father’s funeral by returning to Achravie for the wedding.

  Two months after agreeing to buy the house in Bourne End, Justine and Rob signed papers, and the house became theirs. Justine’s parents, in the interim, moved to Beaconsfield.

  Having received planning permission for the developments on Achravie, Justine received the final plans from the architect and approved them with Rob. By process of tender, she appointed contractors to carry out work on both sites—to erect the luxury log cabins, build necessary service buildings, form access roads, and landscape the sites. She even negotiated grants from the Scottish Government for diversification, which cut down the overall cost, and left funds to buy equipment from a small smokehouse in Cornwall that was closing down. Justine’s father, a Cornishman by origin knew the owners and alerted Justine and Rob, having been told by Justine about the “smokehouse” conversation in the hospital.

  Having followed the advice of the surgeons to the letter, rather than incur Justine’s wrath, Rob’s leg healed well. As the Achravie project progressed, he returned regularly to the gym and started running again. Short runs progressed into longer ones and, soon, he was back on his normal route.

  As October passed and November arrived, Justine suggested that they travel to Achravie to inspect the sites and view the progress, in case they wanted to make any last minute adjustments. They caught a BA flight from Heathrow to Glasgow, picked up a rental car at Glasgow Airport and drove down to Ardrossan. From there it was a ferry to Brodick, a drive to Blackwaterfoot, and another ferry to Achravie, arriving at Hillcrest House early evening.

  They’d told Lorna that they’d eat at the Red Lion that evening, but on arrival, discovered that she’d cooked a meal for them at Hillcrest. Rob and Justine capitulated, but only if Lorna joined them for dinner, which she reluctantly agreed to.

  As the three sat down in the library after a delicious meal, Justine turned to Rob and smiled mischievously. “Are you going to tell her or am I?”

  “I was going to, but if you want to, that’s fine.”

  “It might be better if you told her.”

  “You sure?”

  “Tell me what, for God sake?” Lorna demanded, her curiosity getting better of her.

  “Don’t make any plans for Hogmanay, Lorna,” Rob smiled.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to a wedding.”

  “Whose—no! You’re getting married?” Lorna asked, her eyes widening.

  “Mm, Hogmanay. Here in Achravie Church, then back here for a bit of a do,” Rob said before Lorna jumped onto his lap and hugged him tightly.

  “I’m so pleased for both of you,” she chuckled and she ran across to the settee, sat down beside Justine and hugged her, too.

  The two laughed. “Pleased enough to be my bridesmaid?” asked Justine.

  “I’d love to, if that’s what you want.”

  “I’d really like that. We’ve got really close over the last few months and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have with me when I get married.”

  Lorna hugged Justine again, “I’d love to. The first time I saw you both together, I thought how perfect you were for each other!”

  “I think you’ve got yourself a bridesmaid, Tina,” Rob smiled. “All we need now is a minister.”

  The next morning their news got a similar response from Fraser. He could hardly contain himself and, uncharacteristically, hugged Rob and then Justine. Then he returned to his normal reserved self.

  Rob, Justine and Lorna drove up to the north east of the island to inspect the work at the first of the sites. This would be a family site with a play area for younger children and an adventure playground for older children. There was also a café, a small shop, and a site office to support twenty family-sized log cabins.

  Having spent time with the contractors and making a few minor adjustments to landscaping, they drove to the other site in the southwest part of the island. This was an adults-only site and had ten two-bedroom and five three-bedroom cabins, with hot tubs on the verandas. An eighteen-hole par-three golf course was also under construction. Situated close to the village, it was within easy reach of the Red Lion restaurant, local cafes, and shops; Rob had stipulated he didn’t want to introduce competition to these local businesses. Again they spent time with the contractors and, as with the family site, made minor changes to the layout and landscaping. The contractor also suggested some alterations to the site to aid drainage and these were agreed upon.

  The trio returned to Hillcrest House for a light sandwich lun
ch and to discuss matters concerning the Estate with Fraser. Rob and Justine had a conference call with the minister, based in the Blackwaterfoot church, and he agreed to marry the couple at five o’clock on the evening of the December 31st. The minister already had a wedding at two o’clock; five o’clock would allow him and his wife to attend the Hogmanay ceilidh at Hillcrest.

  The bar in the Red Lion was busy when the management team of Achravie Estate walked in. Word of Rob’s and Justine’s impending marriage had spread quickly and a loud cheer went up as they entered. Hamish and Lizzie, behind the bar, sported broad grins.

  “Ah, it’s the new Laird of Achravie an’ his intended Lady Laird, come to grace us wi’ his presence the night,” Hamish greeted them with a regal bow. “A ha’nae got a forelock that I could touch any mair son, but Lizzie here has been practicin’ her curtsey awe day. Curtsey to the new Laird, Lizzie dear.”

  “Don’t you dare, Lizzie Allan,” Rob laughed. “And you behave yourself, Hamish.”

  “Am no gone tae change the habit o’ a lifetime at ma age, young Robbie, no even fur the new Laird,” he protested. “But a will crack a bottle of champagne tae celebrate wi ye.” He produced a chilled bottle of Moët from under the bar and popped the cork in theatrical style.

  As he poured the fizzing beverage, Lizzie handed glasses to Rob, Justine, Lorna and Fraser. A second bottle was opened and more glasses poured.

  “Quite everyone, quite, please. Ave a few words tae say here. Thank you,” Hamish shouted above the din.

  A hush settled and all eyes turned to Hamish, who walked round the bar with Lizzie. “A knew this man when he was a bairn, then a big gangly boy. Then, he left us fur a while, no through ony fault o’ his. He came back to us as a grown man … and proved the man he was. He rid this island of evil, make no mistake. Now he’s back again no jist as a grown man, but as the new Laird of Achravie, and he’s brought wae him a lady who’s to be the new Lady Laird … and what a lady, if I may be so bold.” He smiled blithely and held up a glass, his gaze on Rob. “The fact that ave opened two bottles of real champagne should tell you how much regard I hae fur ye. Two bottles.”