by Ali Carter
‘It’s very accomplished. Have you ever tried glazing in oils?’
‘The old-fashioned method?’
‘Yes, the one where you build up a tonal scene and then wash very thin paint over it.’
‘No, but I’d love to try. Maybe you could give us a lesson tomorrow?’
‘What a good idea. I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Susie,’ said Zoe as I emerged from the basement. I’d been down dropping my outdoor kit in the drying room.
‘May I have a word?’ Her finger curled as she called me into the sitting room. ‘Shut the door,’ she said, gaining the upper hand.
Oh crumbs, is she holding the art valuer’s visit against me?
The fire was crackling, the curtains had been drawn and Zoe motioned for me to sit down. Yikes, she isn’t going to confront me about Louis, is she?
‘Would you like a drink, Susie? I’m not going to have one but I’m sure you could do with one to warm you up.’
‘You’re right. Yes please, a little bit of whisky would go down well.’ I was grateful for something to settle my nerves.
‘Here you go then.’ She handed me a glass. ‘Now, I really wanted to ask you…’ She paused, took in a huge breath and the words ‘How do you think the week is going?’ rushed out of her.
‘Really well.’
‘Honestly?’
‘Yes. Well, at least I think so.’
‘That’s exactly it.’ Zoe lowered herself onto the sofa. ‘It’s unlike anything we’ve done here before. I, we’ve, never had a house full for this length of time, at least not one like this.’
‘Like this?’
‘Paying guests. Strangers. People one can’t relate to.’ Zoe took in another deep breath and I wondered where her parochial attitude had suddenly come from.
‘Shooting parties and day courses work well, one knows the type. No one stays the night and the house becomes ours again at the end of the day. The problem I’m finding this week is keeping a balance between us and them.’
Zoe, much like Jane, seemed to be fed up of having people around her. But, if the Muchtons see Auchen Laggan Tosh as something to share, she’s going to have to get used to life like this.
‘Do you mean you’re struggling to make everyone feel at home without becoming overfamiliar?’
Zoe had been so friendly to me on day one: as I’d said to Mhàiri, ‘Zoe couldn’t be more welcoming.’ And she’d said, ‘All right for some.’ But as the week progressed Zoe’s character had grown cold.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I thought it was going so well, until today. But I’ve obviously been too much Madame and not enough Mum.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘Jane’s trying to leave.’
‘I know.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Zoe’s face looked almost comical with a frown.
‘I’ve only just heard. I would have told you. Honestly.’
She seemed to believe me, and we moved on. ‘It upsets me desperately,’ she said as her shoulders fell. ‘I feel I’m wholly responsible for her having to share a room.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I promise you this week is going really well.’ Then realising how unintentionally conceited this sounded I added, ‘You’ve organised and put on a brilliant course.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ I smiled.
‘Why is she leaving then?’
Hmmm, I had to answer carefully. I didn’t want to suggest Jane was missing her personal space as I didn’t want Zoe to blame herself.
‘Some people like to do exactly what suits them. Jane I’m sure has enjoyed her time here, but having decided she’s had enough, she now wants to leave.’
‘Should we let her?’
‘I think you have to.’
Zoe smiled at her mistake. ‘Yes, of course you’re right, it’s not like I can keep her here.’
Her frown deepened. ‘Will she expect to be reimbursed?’
‘No, I shouldn’t think so.’
Immense relief swept across Zoe’s face and the mood in the room lifted just like that.
‘How are you getting on with your picture of Haggis? Don’t worry if you haven’t found the time.’
‘I should have mentioned it. I will definitely have a drawing for you but I’d like to complete it at home, if that’s okay. I’ve got a sketch and some photographs to work from.’
‘Oh goodie. He is such an adorable little boy, my Haggis.’
‘Yes, he is a sweet dog.’
Zoe stood up. ‘There are drop scones in the dining room for tea if you’d like?’
‘How delicious.’
‘Come on then.’ She flung the sitting room door open.
Louis was sitting at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Hello there,’ she said, ‘do you have some photographs for me?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Wonderful. Let’s all have a look then?’
‘I’d rather sort through them first.’
‘You artists are so closeted with your work.’ Zoe looked at me and then back at Louis. ‘Fair enough if you must, but do please come and have some tea.’
We were paraded into the dining room.
‘Have a pancake, Susie,’ shouted Lianne, shunting a plate my way.
‘Thanks.’ I took one and passed them on.
‘They’re called drop scones north of the border,’ said Rupert.
‘Squished scone would be better,’ said Shane, and Felicity laughed.
‘Rupert,’ he said, ‘if you’re so good at Scottish, tell us some more.’
‘Well, firstly you say scotch and if you look out of that window you’ll see spiky green bushes with yellow buds.’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me what you’d call them.’
‘Never seen one in my life.’
‘Gorse,’ said Giles. ‘That’s a gorse bush.’
‘Course?’ said Shane.
‘No, g-orse.’
‘In Scotland,’ said Rupert, ‘they’re known as whin. Like win with an h.’
‘That’s a fat lot of use,’ said Lianne. ‘Give us a word we’d use.’
‘Zoe taught us baps,’ said Felicity and Lianne’s chest wobbled and wobbled as she tried to suppress a laugh.
‘Sitooterie,’ said Fergus.
‘Conservatory,’ translated Zoe.
‘That’s brilliant,’ said Minty.
‘Why don’t you and Fergus have a Scottish accent?’ said Shane.
‘Scotch,’ corrected Rupert.
‘I’m English,’ said Zoe.
‘And Fergus?’
‘He lost it when he went to boarding school.’
‘On the way there or the way back?’
Even Jane laughed at this.
‘There’ll be no mistaking his roots tonight,’ said Zoe.
‘So he’ll be in a kilt?’ said Minty.
‘Full rigmarole.’
‘I wish I had an outfit to wear,’ mumbled Felicity.
Lianne smiled at me, confident she had a dress for the evening.
‘I could dig some things out if you’d like a swatch?’
‘Swatch?’ said Shane.
‘A touch of tartan,’ said Zoe.
‘Can I have one too?’
‘I might even be able to find you a kilt.’
Giles chortled. ‘I’d love to see you in a skirt.’
‘You might just,’ said Shane, looking hopefully at Zoe.
‘Let’s go and have a look then.’ Up she got. ‘Anyone else want to come?’
‘I will,’ said Minty.
‘And me,’ said Rupert.
Felicity and Lianne joined in too.
Naturally the Muchtons have a bounty of Scots dress. Most heads of families do. A stash of gear ready and waiting to share when engagements are announced. The family-tartan kilts, jabots and shiny buckle shoes all handed down the lineage of eldest sons, with the unspoken prerequisite they are shared with other family members when
occasions arise.
If you can picture a wedding snap of a landed Scottish family, you’ll recall the distinctive dress of the page boys. This outfit isn’t made especially for those ones, rather it comes out of a cupboard at the main house smelling of moth balls, having been donned at every-one’s wedding. The same goes for tiaras – at times known to cause a scuffle if the bride’s family own one too. Quite simply the largest is chosen, but this in itself can cause offence.
With fewer people in the dining room I chose my moment to ask Jane if she’d managed to change her flight.
‘You’re leaving,’ exclaimed Giles as if he cared.
‘I’m considering it,’ said Jane with her nose in the air. She didn’t wish to discuss the matter.
‘Think I’m going to have a rest.’ Louis got up and left the room.
‘Me too,’ said Jane.
Mhàiri burst through the swing door, prompting Giles’s departure. Her rough hands were clasped round a tray and I immediately got up to help.
‘You’re a good lass, Susie.’
‘We’re being spoilt here. It’s the least I can do.’
Mhàiri grinned a great big yellow-toothed grin. ‘Are yous looking forward to the ceilidh the night?’
‘Enormously.’
‘You’ll all enjoy it no doubt.’
‘Have they done it here before?’
‘This’ll be Zoe and Fergus’s first. But the elder generation they were always at it.’
Mhàiri’ s tray was now full. ‘Here,’ I said, ‘let me get the door.’
‘Thanks.’
Together we stacked the dishwasher and once done Mhàiri rested her cushioned behind against the counter and asked me how the course was going. She wanted to have a bit of a chat.
‘It’s going well, I think.’
‘Yous like teaching, do yous?’
‘Yes, but I wouldn’t like to do it all the time.’
‘Ever done it afore?’
‘No, but I am enjoying this week. Partly for the teaching but partly because I like meeting new people, getting to know them, learning about who they are, you know.’
‘I certainly do.’ Her eyes sparkled and she lowered her voice. ‘There’s an awful lot yous can learn about folk from what they bring in their suitcase.’
I could feel myself cowering with embarrassment at the misconnection. I certainly didn’t mean spying on people – if that’s what she was getting at. For me, going through people’s belongings is an absolute no no, unless of course it’s reading a letter left lying around. Or looking in a case on which I’ve stubbed my toe. This, one could justify, but not the other.
‘The Frenchman ain’t brought much with him,’ she began, ‘doesn’t have a stable woman in his life, I can tell that. If he did, with her example he’d have hung his clothes in the wardrobe for sure. But nope. They’ve been in his bag fer the day he arrived.’
I was unable to stop her drawing conclusions from people’s belongings; this cook-cum-daily was in full flow and on she went without a pause for breath. ‘That, what’s he called, Little Lord Font-le-Roy has his entire wardrobe ironed, briefs, socks, hankies and all. That rake of a lass, she’s got a stash of pills in her spongebag, and as for the other yun, oh my, her underwear, yous ain’t seen anything like it.’
Mhàiri used the tea towel over her shoulder to wipe a bead of sweat off her top lip. With a bucketful of trepidation I asked, ‘What have you learnt about me?’
‘Not you, pet. There’s a trust between staff. I would nee go searching your room over my dead body.’
I was too alarmed by the thought to smile and when Mhàiri crossed the kitchen to check no one was listening through the door, I really did think, oh heck, what’s coming next…
Her whole body was shaking with anticipation. ‘Just yous wait and see what that lady Jane’s bringing out the night. Quite something buried in her suitcase. Nearly fainted when I found it.’
‘How thrilling,’ I said, only to be nice. A line had been crossed and I absolutely did not want to hear any more. But Mhàiri was shuffling towards me and when she reached up on tiptoes and whispered, ‘Diamonds,’ in my ear, I actually thought her pupils might pop out onto the kitchen floor. Her eyes stretched to their absolute max and then snapped shut. ‘I ain’t telling yous any more.’
‘Okey dokey,’ I said with a smile as inside I let out a huge sigh of relief. ‘See you later, Mhàiri, I’d better go and get brushed up for the evening.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing your outfit.’ She grinned and turned to the sink.
I burst out the swing door. Although I love to work people out, there are lines you don’t cross and gossiping is one of them. It makes me feel low, guilty and horrible all at once. I must not expose myself to that again. It’s time to keep a little distance from the kitchen.
‘Susie,’ said Felicity as I reached the top of the staircase. ‘Don’t you want some tartan too?’
‘Yeah,’ said Shane, who was extracting plastic-wrapped bundles from a landing cupboard under Zoe’s instruction.
‘Behind these we’ll get to the clothes, I’m sure,’ she was saying through a musty cloud of unsettled dust.
‘We’d better,’ joked Rupert. ‘It’s the fourth place we’ve tried. Susie?’
‘I’m going to leave you to it. I don’t want to spoil the outfit surprise.’
Down the children’s corridor I went, joining the queue for the bath. Next in line after Lianne, whom I could hear singing, ‘It’s all so beautiful’, through my bedroom wall.
The drawing room was jolly chilly, even with a fire glowing at one end. I was late to the party. Everyone other than Fergus and Shane were here.
‘I thought it a good idea to use this room,’ said Zoe, holding court – an easy thing to do in a puffy ball gown. ‘Gives us space to move around in our dresses.’
She looked lovely and the tartan sash, pinned over one shoulder with a Celtic brooch, was uncharacteristically elegant for Zoe.
‘Susie would fit in anywhere,’ said Louis, admiring my figure-hugging velvet number. I took a huge sip from my glass of wine; his attention was making me nervous.
‘You do look lovely,’ said Lianne and I returned the compliment.
‘I envy your figure,’ said Felicity and looking back at her I tried not to stare. The pleats of her skirt were inevitably falling unevenly over her waist.
‘Where’s Haggis?’
‘He’s safely tucked away in our room,’ smiled Zoe. ‘He’d only trip us up when the dancing begins.’
Shane entered and all the attention turned to him.
Lianne burst into a fit of giggles. ‘Suits you that skirt,’ she just about managed to splutter.
‘Very comfortable too,’ he said, showing off the Muchton tartan.
‘What’s under it?’
‘A gigantic surprise.’
Lianne laughed again and Fergus entered.
‘Oh my, oh my,’ said Zoe at her husband.
‘Three cheers for the host,’ said Rupert, raising his glass.
‘Talk us through your outfit, please, Fergus.’ Felicity wanted to hear it top to bottom.
‘First, though, darling, you’ll never believe what I found.’ Fergus went to whisper in his wife’s ear.
‘Diamonds,’ she exclaimed, unable to keep the words in her mouth.
Jane bolted out of the door. I think she’s suddenly remembered the ones Mhàiri mentioned.
Fergus gave Zoe a look as if to say, ‘Don’t mention any more.’
‘Please talk us through your outfit,’ begged Felicity again.
‘As he pinched my trews,’ Fergus said, looking across the room.
‘They fit perfectly,’ said Rupert, pulling at the waist.
Shane pointed at Fergus’s left calf. ‘What’s that in your sock?’
‘Let him talk us through the whole caboodle,’ interrupted Minty.
Fergus beamed and as his hips swung the pleats of his kilt, he began to expla
in. ‘This was my great-grandfather’s. Worn ones always look nicer. My black jacket is called a Prince Charlie and is donned for formal occasions.’ Fergus turned around, and pulled at the tails. ‘These are short, which tells you it’s for the evening.’
Zoe stepped forwards and stroked his sporran. ‘Do tell them about this.’
‘Ah,’ said Fergus, flapping the fur bulge at his crotch, ‘Donald made it for me. It’s a squirrel.’
‘Did you shoot it?’ said Giles.
‘Yes. Aged twelve.’
‘Oh no, no, no, no, no,’ said Lianne with her hands over her face.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Fergus. ‘It was grey not red.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Rupert. ‘They’re more like rats than squirrels.’
‘May I touch it?’ said Felicity.
‘Of course.’ Fergus held out his fur for all of us to feel.
Jane bustled her way back into the room. I looked her up and down – she wasn’t wearing any diamonds.
‘I like that dagger in your sock,’ said Giles and Shane’s face lit up.
‘It’s called a sgian-dubh.’
‘Skee-en-DOO,’ said Zoe.
‘Can I have a look?’ said Shane.
‘No, no,’ said Jane, ‘it’s terribly bad luck if he takes it out.’
I wondered how Fergus got it in his sock without taking it out but I suppose she meant the sheath not the blade.
‘Sorry, Shane,’ he said, probably thinking it would be too risky to hand around. ‘Just quickly, two other things worth mentioning are my kilt pin, basically a large nappy pin put here at the bottom corner of the kilt to stop it blowing up in the wind, and my shoes…’
‘They must be Zoe’s,’ said Giles much to everyone’s amusement.
‘Their patent leather and silver buckles are pretty fancy for a man but they are wonderful for dancing in.’
‘No doubt we’ll judge that later,’ said Jane, remarkably enthusiastic for someone who barely hours ago was all set to leave.
‘My shoes are the best,’ said Zoe, stretching a foot out from under her ball gown. ‘They’re officially called ghillies but really they’re just soft black ballet shoes with tight laces tied up my ankle.’
Minty crouched down from the great height of her quivering stilettos. ‘They’re even nicer than the ones my friend has.’
The circle broke up and I turned to Louis. ‘That’s a nice waistcoat.’
