‘You’ll remember this, I expect?’ Lynette asked. ‘I believe it’s the original.’
‘Oh, yes, I remember it. This was our door.’
Touching it briefly, he moved through into the entrance hall, then halted, brought up short by the sight of the stags’ antlers high on the walls.
‘Good God, they’ve still got those up there,’ he whispered. ‘I never dreamed to see them again. My old friends.’
‘You didn’t shoot them, did you?’ asked Lynette.
‘No, no. The family shot them. We weren’t “family”, you know. Just people who bought the house.’ In a low voice, he added, ‘And lost it.’
‘Dad’s office is just here,’ Lynette said hastily. ‘That’s new, of course. Just been stuck on as an extra.’ She called through the open door, ‘Dad, are you there? Ronan’s here.’
Out came Frank, followed, to Lynette’s surprise, by Ishbel who was looking very attractive in a sleeveless summer dress.
Didn’t look her age, did she? But Lynette was wondering when her father had invited her. He’d never said a word to her. Seemed these days he was meeting Ishbel more and more.
‘How nice to see you, Mr Allan!’ Ishbel cried, and Frank, shaking Ronan’s hand, said how pleased he was to see him in his old home at last.
‘Hope you don’t think it’s been hacked about too much, Ronan. Some changes had to be made, of course.’
‘Of course, I quite understand,’ Ronan replied, drawing on his social skills, for of course he didn’t understand, thought Lynette, and never had. To him, as a boy, it must have seemed the least easy thing to understand in the world, that his home should be changed. As a man, he’d shown he felt the same.
‘I’m afraid the staircase has taken a bit of a beating,’ she murmured apologetically. ‘The floors too, of course. Need a lot of work.’
‘I believe they were always hard work,’ Ronan replied. ‘I seem to remember seeing the maids polishing and so on.’
‘Did you know that Brigid’s mother was parlour maid here in the old days?’ Lynette asked him, as they moved a little away from Frank and Ishbel.
He stared and flushed scarlet. ‘Brigid’s mother? Oh, Lord, I should have known that, shouldn’t I? Why did nobody tell me?’
‘Everyone knows you don’t like to be reminded of your home,’ Lynette said quietly.
‘You’ve reminded me.’
‘I thought it would be good for you.’
‘Thank you, Nanny Forester,’ he said, relaxing and laughing. ‘Where to now?’
‘The common room. I believe it used to be the drawing room.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Ronan agreed, his laughter dying. ‘This was the drawing room.’
As he stood, looking around, Lynette pointed out the newly painted walls and woodwork, all done by Monnie and Paul, and explained that new bookcases were on their way, as well as a snooker table.
‘And as you see there’s a record player, for folk to play the Elvis Presleys and so on, and a piano for the sing-songs.’
‘Sing-songs?’
‘Oh, yes, there’s always a get-together before bed. No telly, of course – can’t get the reception.’
‘I can see your father works hard for the young people. Monnie, too. She’s not here today?’
‘Out with Torquil.’ Lynette was studying Ronan’s expressionless face. ‘I know you’re finding it changed,’ she murmured, ‘but it’s a nice room still, isn’t it? And hasn’t lost the plasterwork ceiling.’
‘I noticed that,’ he agreed.
They moved on, past the long dining room, now partitioned into a dormitory, and climbed the stairs to look in at the dormitories created from the old bedrooms, which Lynette was glad to see had been specially tidied by Monnie.
‘All changed again,’ she said brightly. ‘Partitions everywhere. But new bathrooms, you’ll notice.’
‘An improvement on my day,’ Ronan admitted, and stood for some time looking about him. ‘Somewhere or other, there should be my old room. I suppose it’s been swallowed up into a dormitory.’
‘There is a small room at the end of the landing. I think it was difficult to fit it in, so it’s used for storage. Want to see it?’
‘Oh, Lynette,’ he said huskily, stepping into the little room that had become a store room, ‘this is it, this was my room. I can’t believe it’s still here. My bed was in this corner – and then I think there was a wardrobe . . . and the window – see the window? Looks out to Skye.’
He turned to Lynette, his eyes alight. ‘The hours I must have spent here, eh? Often at this window, gazing out at the hills. It was one of the happiest times of my life.’
‘Was it?’ she asked softly, and came to stand next to him, slipping her arm into his, sharing with him the view that had meant so much. ‘You don‘t mind, seeing it again?’
‘No, I’m glad. I’m glad to have seen it. I was wrong, to try to shut everything out, because I’d lost it.’ He bent to kiss her gently. ‘Thank you, for bringing me back.’
‘Oh, Ronan, what a relief! I could tell you were getting more and more depressed . . .’
‘No. No, I wasn’t. I knew there would be changes, but when I finally saw them, I realized they’d been done as well as possible and – I don’t know – I didn’t mind them as much as I thought I would. I seemed to be able to look beyond, remembering what we’d had, but not with so much hurt.’ He held Lynette close. ‘You’re a wonder, though, aren’t you? How did you guess it would happen?’
‘I thought you might have moved on. The way people do.’ She put her face to his. ‘I’m just glad if I was right.’
After a long kiss, they pulled apart and Lynette said they’d better go down for tea.
‘In Dad’s flat which is new to you, so no need to worry,’ she told him, at which he kissed her again and said he wasn’t worrying.
‘There’s just something I’d like to say before we go.’ She gave him a long serious look. ‘It’s wonderful that you’re feeling happier about the hostel, anyway, but the other thing to remember – and I’m always saying this – is that your old home’s been such a godsend to the folk who come here. I mean, it’s opened up the hills and the countryside for them in a way they could never have afforded if they’d to pay elsewhere.’
She took his hand, leading him back towards the staircase.
‘And if you could just see their faces when they come in, after their day away, I know you’d understand what I’m saying.’
‘I do understand, Lynette. I’m glad, honestly, that other folk can share what I had.’
‘Ah, Ronan, that’s nice to hear. Maybe I’ve been maligning you.’
‘Not lately,’ he said teasingly, and together they ran down the stairs for tea.
Seeing Ishbel moving easily round their kitchen gave Lynette a rather strange feeling. It was as though she’d already moved in, which was absurd. But she did seem to know where everything was, and it was her coffee cake she was slicing, and her soda scones, she was buttering, and all the time, she was smiling her friendly smile and Frank was watching her as though she was something special.
Still, tea went off very well, with Ronan charming everyone by being perfectly at ease and praising all that he’d seen, the warden’s flat included. If only Monnie were here too, Lynette thought, and suddenly there she was, back in time to help with the return of the hostellers she said, but ready for some of that coffee cake first.
‘Had a good day?’ Lynette asked, when they went together to make fresh tea.
‘Oh, yes, it was fine.’ Monnie seemed relaxed. ‘We just went for a walk, you know.’
‘And Torquil was OK?’
‘Yes, I said, everything was fine.’
‘That’s good. And we’ve had a lovely afternoon here. Ronan wasn’t too upset at all, about seeing the house. In fact, he feels much better about it all round.’
‘Trust you to be right!’
‘He’s got to go back soon, though. Might just have time to
see our happy hostellers coming home. I hope they look as cheerful as I said they would.’
‘They will, they always do. But better get Ronan away before they start their cooking, eh?’
At his car, ready to leave, having seen the ‘happy hostellers’ arrive back and marvelled at their appearance of health and strength, Ronan’s eyes were on Lynette as she stood to see him away.
‘Thank you again,’ he said quietly. ‘For everything.’
‘I wanted to see if I could help, that’s all.’
‘You did help. And there’s something else.’
She waited, as he hesitated, trying to find the words he wanted.
‘Seeing the house again, thinking of how I learned to love the Highlands – it’s made me glad I’ve come back.’
‘You don’t mean, just to the house?’
‘No, to work. To live here, in this part of the world again.’ He shook his head. ‘I know I could never live anywhere else, Lynette. Could you? Now that you’ve discovered it?’
She put her hands to her arms, as though she were cold, and said quickly, ‘Oh, it’s beautiful, I agree. Really . . . beautiful.’
He nodded, watching her face.
‘Suppose I should go. Mrs A will be looking out for me. Oh, God, you will be in tomorrow, Lynette?’
‘You know I will.’
Looking round, to see if anyone in the village street was watching, they hastily kissed, pressed hands, and parted, Ronan to his driver’s seat, Lynette to stand back, ready to wave. In a moment, he was gone and she was left to walk slowly up the drive to the house.
It had been a good day, she was pleased it had gone well. If only there weren’t that cold feeling around her heart that she would not even try to identify.
‘Lynette,’ Monnie called, catching her as she went into the flat. ‘You didn’t tell me Ishbel was coming here today.’
‘I didn’t know. Dad invited her.’
‘Hmm. Well, she’s gone home now, but she does seem to be here a lot, eh?’
‘Or, he’s at the shop.’
They looked at each other.
‘Suppose we’ll find out sooner or later what’s going on,’ said Monnie.
‘Come on, we already know,’ Lynette retorted.
But of course they couldn’t be sure.
Forty-Seven
Early in July, Frank sprang a surprise on the girls. Not the one they’d been expecting, which wouldn’t have been a surprise, anyway, but news of a weekend trip he intended to take back to Edinburgh.
‘Edinburgh?’ Monnie echoed. ‘To see the flat?’
‘To see the flat. Yes, it’s about time I did a check. I’ll only be away two nights, Friday and Saturday. You can cope, Monnie?’
‘Of course. It’d be fun, to be in charge.’
‘A weekend in Edinburgh,’ Lynette was saying thoughtfully. ‘Dad, how about I come with you? Fionola’s taking Saturday off this weekend, I could go the one following. What do you think?’
‘Why, it’s a great idea, Lynette. I’d be glad to have you.’
The news that Lynette was to be away for a weekend was not well received by Ronan.
‘You’re going to Edinburgh?’ he asked blankly. ‘Why not have checked with me first?’
‘Why, it’s all right if I go, isn’t it?’ Lynette asked, frowning. ‘I’m entitled to one weekend off every five weeks on our rota.’
‘Oh, I’m not saying you can’t go, but we might have gone together. Now this date you’ve booked is when I have some people from Inverness coming over to do a recce for a conference. I can’t get away.’
‘I’ll only be looking round our old flat with Dad, Ronan. It’d be much better if we went together some other time, eh?’
‘If you say so,’ he sighed, his brow still dark.
Scott’s face, on the other hand, when he heard of Lynette’s plans, was sunny.
‘Tell me the dates again,’ he said, when she was taking her coffee in his kitchen. ‘Mid July, eh? Well, that’s a coincidence, if you like.’
‘What is?’
‘Why, I’m going to Edinburgh that same weekend! Can you believe it?’
‘No,’ said Lynette, with a laugh, in which Scott’s assistants joined. ‘I don’t believe in that sort of coincidence.’
‘But it’s true! I’ve got an appointment on Saturday morning in George Street, honest.’ Scott turned to Hamish. ‘You tell her, Hamish. I’m leaving you in charge, right?’
‘Right,’ groaned Hamish. ‘And I’m shaking in my shoes already.’
‘Come off it, you’re a good chef, you’ll be fine. Lynette, you believe me now, eh?’
‘I’ll have to.’ She drank her coffee, smiling. ‘So, are you going to travel with Dad and me on Friday? We’re just going to check our old flat.’
‘I’d like to,’ Scott said earnestly. ‘But is You Know Who no’ going with you?’
‘He means Mr Allan,’ Brigid put in helpfully.
‘I know who he means,’ Lynette retorted. ‘No, Mr Allan is not going with me, but if you want to travel with us, that’d be grand.’
‘It’s a date,’ he said, beaming. ‘Tell your dad I’ll drive us all to Inverness, now that I’ve got my old banger. We can do the trip in one day, if we take the train from there, and it won’t hurt to leave the car at the station.’
To be back in Edinburgh, it seemed so strange. As though, Lynette thought, she’d been away for years, and to somewhere foreign, too. Was her father feeling the same? Was Scott?
Scott said he’d been back a couple of times to see his mother, he’d sort of got used to the feeling of coming home when he first set foot on the platform at Waverley Station. But yes, there was at the back of his mind, the idea that he’d left behind a strange land. A beautiful land, of course.
‘Oh, yes, beautiful.’ Lynette, in the taxi they were sharing, agreed and remembered with a little stab her use of the same word to Ronan. ‘But strange. Well, different. How d’you feel, Dad?’
‘How do I feel?’ Frank’s face, in the dusky light of the taxi, was hard to read. ‘Well, I’m glad to be back. I realize I’ve missed Auld Reekie more than I thought. But I won’t mind when I have to leave again, put it that way.’
No more was said until they dropped Scott off at his mother’s flat, when they arranged to have a meal together the following evening, though he and Lynette also agreed to meet earlier, for a sentimental walk in the city.
‘Not going to tell us about your appointment on Saturday morning?’ Lynette asked cheekily. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just being nosey.’
‘Maybe one day,’ he answered seriously. ‘At the moment, it’s a secret. Hey, here’s Ma looking out – quick, say hello!’
After a brief handshake with Scott’s mother, a friendly, youthful-looking redhead, it was back to the taxi for Lynette and her father, with butterflies for her, she said, all the way to their tenement.
‘This certainly seems to mean a lot to you,’ Frank remarked when they’d paid off the taxi and were standing at the foot of the well-known stair. ‘I never realized how attached you were to the place.’
‘I’m not sure I even knew myself.’ She stood looking up the stair towards the first landing. ‘But I know I was glad we kept the flat on.’
‘Let’s go up, then. I’ll just open the door and run up to speak to Mrs Logan.’
‘No,’ Lynette said quickly. ‘Let’s go in first, and then speak to Mrs Logan.’
‘OK, just as you like.’ Frank laughed a little edgily. ‘Hope the key still fits, eh?’
It fitted, and slowly they stepped over the threshold of their old home.
Now I feel like Ronan, coming back, thought Lynette, looking around at all that she remembered. Except that her home hadn’t changed. Hadn’t changed at all. Everything was still there, so neat, so clean – Mrs Logan had done a good job. The table where they’d had so many meals, the range, the cooker, the sofa and chairs, the pictures, the television, the book shelves, Ma’s hand
worked rug, some of her cushions they’d left behind . . .
‘Oh, Dad,’ Lynette said softly, as memories of her mother came rushing like a torrent over her. ‘Oh, Dad!’
And as he put his arms around her and held her, she melted into tears.
Of course, she quickly recovered herself. Had to, really, as Mrs Logan was soon knocking at the door and hurrying in to greet them.
‘Now is it no’ grand to see you folks again!’ she cried, shaking Frank’s hand, hugging Lynette. ‘I thought I heard a taxi and we don’t get many, so I guessed it would be you. But don’t you both look well, eh? And I bet Monnie’s the same. Highland air is suiting you, all right!’
‘Everything’s looking so nice here, Mrs Logan,’ Frank told her. ‘We’re really impressed, aren’t we, Lynette? And I’ve got your envelope here, now—’
‘Och, now I don’t want paying, Mr Forester! What are neighbours for?’
‘Come on, this is an ongoing job.’ Frank put his envelope into her hand, at which she shook her head and said he shouldn’t, she felt so bad, then rattled on.
‘Now, I ken it’s summer, but this flat has got very chill, so I’ve lit the range and put some hot water bottles in your beds. You’ll no’ be wanting to catch your deaths, eh? And when you’re ready, come away up the stair and have a nice bit of meat pie with Bob and me. Don’t be long now!’
‘Oh, dear, I feel like crying again,’ sniffed Lynette, as Mrs Logan bustled away. ‘What can we say?’
‘Aye, they were good neighbours here,’ Frank murmured, walking slowly round the flat, picking up books and putting them down, switching on the radio and turning it off. ‘Seems odd, we’re not here any more.’
‘You had to move on, Dad.’
‘True, and I’m glad I did. And you are, too, eh?’
‘Oh, yes.’
He gave her a long keen look, then picked up his overnight case and said he’d have a wash before going up to Mrs Logan’s.
‘That’s a nice laddie, yon Scott, Lynette. Wonder what he’s up to, back in Edinburgh?’
‘Whatever it is, he’s not saying,’ answered Lynette, who was still wondering that herself.
At night, in her old bed with its warm sheets, she thought of Ronan, so very far away, but like the Highlands that were so clear cut when she was there and now seemed indistinct, his image was cloudy in her mind. As soon as she returned, it would be this place that lost its clarity, and Ronan would be his true handsome self. She was just all at sea at the moment, had become disorientated, which was not like her. How lucky it was she’d soon be back in Conair.
Anne Douglas Page 22
