Double Danger (14 page)

One rainy day she heard him say,

‘This is the weather the cuckoo likes

And so do I.

When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,

And nestlings fly.’

Everything said in his lovely Irish accent and often with his dimpled smile had begun to cast a spell over Jessica as well as the children. She now admired his talent for creating and reciting poetry as much as she admired his talent for gardening. One cold day, he told the children in a sad, gentle tone,

‘The North wind doth blow,

And we shall have snow

And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?

He’ll sit in a barn

And keep himself warm,

And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.’

Once when he remarked on her sad expression, he added,

‘I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.’

She could no longer regard him just as a pain in the neck and a silly flatterer, as she had at their first meeting. There was obviously much more to the man than that. All right, he could still be a bit of a joker but he had such an amazing artistic side to him and his artistry went far beyond his gardening talents. Actually she had become most grateful to him for making her laugh and also for interesting her and intriguing her with his poetry quotations. Once you got to know him, it became obvious that he was really a truly charming man.

She began to feel much better and more cheerful about everything. After all, she was very lucky having such a good staff already and soon there would be lots of other people on the staff and then the whole place would be busy and cheerful and interesting with lots of guests. People maybe coming from different parts of the world, not just from different parts of Scotland. She nearly drove herself mad with her impatience to get the whole business started. Especially when she got word from Brian that he’d be delayed for another week or two.

‘I’ve told you before what the Saudis are like. They take ages before they even start to talk about business. They enquire about your health, your family and God alone knows what else. Their every relative under the sun comes to do the same. There are meals to take and gifts to accept. There are distractions and delays that go on and on. I’m so sorry, darling, but as soon as I arrive, we’ll get cracking on all the arrangements for the hotel. Meantime, if you want to (knowing your impulsive nature), you can tell Mrs Peterson and discuss it with her. She’s the one who no doubt would know about the best people to staff the place, etc.’

At least that was a relief and Mrs Peterson immediately warmed to the idea, probably infected to some degree by Jessica’s enthusiasm and excitement. Even Geordie nodded his head and remarked that it was ‘a bloody good idea’ and that it was ‘time something sensible was done with the place’.

Patrick had been out working in the grounds when she’d told the Petersons and she couldn’t wait until he came in. Often he worked outside until just before their meal at six o’clock. And so, on her way down to collect the children from school, she sought him out and immediately on catching sight of his blond head, she rushed to tell him all about the plans. He too was delighted.

‘Wonderful. Wonderful. And trust me, my lovely Jessica, I’ll work like a slave to get the grounds at least in a decent state as quickly as possible. But I’ll have to go on concentrating on the road just now and make it wide enough for cars, don’t you think?’

‘Oh definitely, Patrick, and I’m really most grateful for your conscientiousness. I must speak to Brian about a raise in your wages. You’re obviously worth a lot more than we’re paying you at the moment.’

‘As far as I’m concerned, Jessica, it’s not a question of money. I love my work and I love working for such a lovely lady as your dear self. I’m a lucky man. A very lucky man.’

He walked down with her to the village and after she had collected the children, he wheeled them back to the house in his barrow.

As they walked down and back again, they discussed lots of ideas and plans for having Hilltop House as a hotel.

‘It has such character and atmosphere,’ Patrick said. ‘People will love it. It’ll make a fortune as a hotel. You’ll have to do something about getting a phone installed, though. There’s a limit to how isolated people want to be.’

Jessica found the money-making side attractive. It could be, as Brian had said at the start, a very good investment. Very little would need to be done to the house itself, apart from getting a phone installed. It would be best to leave the house as it was, as much as possible, to keep its unusual character. So the house wouldn’t take much time. The gardens and grounds were a different story.

‘Patrick, I’m just thinking,’ she said eventually. ‘You’ll need help. Can you find people in the village or advertise or whatever for men to help you? I know that won’t be easy. Local men don’t seem to want to work on the grounds here. But as you said, the road especially will have to be widened as quickly as possible. And think of the whole estate.You definitely need workers you can instruct on what to do in different areas. It’s especially difficult with the ground being so hilly.’

‘I didn’t like to mention it before, Jessica, but in actual fact a landscape gardener is just supposed to design what’s needed. I’ve always been just a designer until I came here. So yes, I’ll try to find some working gardeners to get on with the job as quickly as possible.’

‘Gosh, I feel terrible now for expecting you to do all that work.’

‘No, I just wanted to please you, dear beautiful Jessica. It was my choice.’

‘Will I advertise or will you? Maybe you should see to it, though, Patrick.’

‘Yes, I’ll see to it. There’s no need for you to worry.’

He gave her one of his dimpled smiles and added, ‘I know gardening requires lots of water, most of it in the form of perspiration.’

‘Meantime, Patrick, just forget all about the work you’ve been doing for the children. They can make do with the sandpit and swings for a while. They don’t need anything else.’

Thinking of the swings Patrick had erected for the twins reminded her of what he’d said to them about that.

‘How do you like to go up in a swing,

Up in the air so blue?

Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing

Ever a child can do!’

They happily returned with the children ready for their tea and cakes in the kitchen. They were not long seated, however, when there was a loud clanging of the front door bell. This was an unusual event and Mrs Peterson hurried away to answer the door. In a few minutes she returned white-faced.

‘Mrs Anderson, there’s Dr Plockton and Mr Brown waiting to speak to you. I’ve shown them into the sitting room.’

Jessica felt confused as she left the kitchen. It surely couldn’t be anything to do with the children. They seemed perfectly well and happy.

Once she was in the sitting room, Dr Plockton said, ‘As you know, there is no police station in Vale of Lennox or even in Lennoxtown, Mrs Anderson. And of course you’ve no phone here so the police in Kirkintilloch phoned me and I contacted Mr Brown in case you needed extra help and support, especially with the children. I know that you have a high regard, as everyone has, for …’

‘Doctor,’ Jessica interrupted in desperation, ‘what on earth’s wrong?’

Douglas Brown came across to her, took her arm and led her to a seat.

‘I’m very sorry to have to tell you, Mrs Anderson, that your husband has been killed in an air crash. He was travelling from …’

But Jessica didn’t hear any more.

Douglas Brown comforted the children and Dr Plockton gave Jessica a tranquilliser. Mrs Peterson brought them all a cup of tea. The clock in the sitting room tick-tocked loudly and mercilessly.

Jessica couldn’t believe it. It was too terrible to take in. Her whole life, all her plans, everything had revolved around Brian. He was her first and only love. He had opened new worlds to her. He had enriched her life. He had given her two lovely children. She struggled to find comfort in them. She had always loved and cherished the children. Now she would cherish them even more.

They had been weeping in the school teacher’s arms. But he had soothed away their tears. She did not know what he had said to cause them to stop sobbing but they were just clinging to him in silence. They looked calm and comforted. It was as if some of his quiet strength had gone into them.

After a time, Mrs Peterson entered the sitting room – after knocking respectfully at the door – and asked if Mr Brown and Dr Plockton would be staying for dinner. They rose then, thanked her but said no, they would be leaving shortly. Mrs Peterson withdrew and Dr Plockton said to Jessica,

‘Take another tranquilliser after your meal and then the sleeping tablet later, once you’re in bed. Come to see me tomorrow and we’ll talk things through.’

Douglas Brown said, ‘If I can help in any way, with the arrangements or anything else, please just let me know.’

Jessica rose too. ‘Thank you both for your kindness. It was so good of you to walk all the way up here. I really appreciate it.’

After they had gone, she and the children went through to the kitchen.

‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Anderson,’ Mrs Peterson said.

Patrick O’Rourke came towards her and put his arms around her.

‘My poor dear Jessica,’ he said quietly.

‘By God, we’ll all have to watch him now,’ Geordie growled.

Mrs Peterson tutted.

‘What nonsense are you talking now, Geordie? Can’t you see the poor woman’s grieving and needing comforting?’

‘You mark my words,’ Geordie said.

Patrick led Jessica over to a chair at the table. ‘Maybe a cup of tea before dinner, Mrs Peterson?’

‘Yes, of course. And here’s wee cans of Irn Bru for Tommy and Fiona. They’ve been so good and so brave, haven’t you?’

The children accepted their drinks.

‘Say thank you,’ Jessica said automatically, and the children dutifully complied.

Mrs Peterson switched on the small, old-fashioned television set and they settled down to watch their favourite programme as they sipped at their drinks. They did this every evening and then played card games or other games with Patrick.

This evening, Patrick searched out a few books from the musty library. One was
Treasure Island
. Another was
Robinson Crusoe
. He announced that he was going to read to them instead. This he did after they had all had dinner, and when the children’s eyes began to droop, he led them up to bed. Jessica followed.

‘I thing I’ll have an early night,’ she told Patrick. ‘Thank you for your help with the children.’

‘Will you be taking them to school as usual tomorrow?’

‘Oh yes. I’m sure that’ll be for the best – to keep them to their usual routine. And Mr Brown is obviously so good with them.’

‘Right. Until tomorrow then, dear Jessica.’ His arms enfolded her again. ‘My deepest sympathy.’

‘Thank you.’

She closed the door behind him and leaned against it, struggling not to weep.

‘Are you all right, Mummy?’ Fiona asked worriedly.

‘Yes dear. I’m fine. The pair of you cosy into bed and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’

Once in bed she put her arms around the children and prayed for sleep to come quickly and blot out all thoughts.

Thanks to Dr Plockton’s tablets, it did come quickly, and even in the morning it took her a few minutes after opening her eyes to remember what had happened the night before.

Then a wave of panicky disbelief rushed at her. It was only the children getting up and chatting about the exciting things that Mr Brown had promised to give them at school that helped her capture some sort of normality. She clung to it to help her get up and get bathed and dressed and act normally.

She then began to realise that all sorts of arrangements had to be made and awful things had to be thought about. Where was Brian’s body? Would there be a body after a plane crash? Did the plane crash into the sea? Would it be possible to have a funeral and if so, where would it be? Where could it be?

After she’d delivered the children to the schoolhouse, she confided in Douglas Brown and pleaded for his help. He seemed the only and most obvious one to help and advise her. Patrick O’Rourke, with his long blond hair tied back and his slim figure and blue eyes and dimples, neither looked dependable nor gave the impression of being dependable. (Apart from his work, of course.) He was warm and sympathetic but much more than sympathy was needed now. Douglas Brown was a solid and very practical man in comparison both in looks and in nature. He had dark eyes and a strong, steady stare. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with well-developed muscles. She discovered he was a black belt in karate and she had mentioned that the children had been learning karate in the compound. He had been very impressed and spoke of perhaps starting a karate club with the children in his care. They might enjoy it, he said, and it would be a good and useful skill for them all to have. He had started the club and she’d watched them enjoy it when she’d called to collect the children.

Now he settled all the children with some lessons and took her into the adjoining kitchen so that they could talk in private.

‘Leave everything to me,’ he told her. ‘I’ll make the necessary enquiries, find out what arrangements are necessary. Then we can discuss them and make them together, or I’ll make them for you on my own, if necessary, to avoid any distress to you.’

‘It’s so kind of you,’ she said weakly. ‘So kind.’

‘Not at all. I’d do the same for any of the mothers if they were on their own like you, and needing help. This is a small, close community and we always try to help one another.’

It was such a pity, Jessica thought, that Mrs Plockton took advantage of this wonderful community spirit. She was the reason that Jessica did not go first to Dr Plockton for help and advice.

True to his word, Douglas Brown made all the necessary enquiries and arrangements. The plane had gone on fire and crashed into the sea. No bodies had been found, but he arranged for a memorial service in the church on the Green, which was beautifully and sympathetically conducted by the local minister, the Reverend MacNeil.