Cauldstane (14 page)

I was
deeply shocked by Alec’s words and my next remark was absurdly inconsequential. ‘But… wasn’t Meredith much older than you?’

‘
Twenty years. I thought she was just being overly affectionate.’ He shrugged. ‘She was flamboyant. Theatrical. I didn’t see it as… well, sexual harassment, I suppose. Guys don’t have too much experience of that kind of thing. And it was kind of hard to get my head round the idea of someone – a woman – with no shame. And no conscience.’

‘Did you tell anyone?’

‘Hell, no – who could I tell? And
what
could I tell? What Meredith did was embarrassing. Inappropriate. But nothing more. To begin with anyway. I don’t think I even realised what was going on until Coral and I got serious. Then Meredith started confiding in me. Telling me how Sholto neglected her. Cheated on her. I didn’t know whether or not to believe her, but I thought there was a good chance my father
was
up to his old tricks. It was none of my business, but Meredith wanted me to take sides. Then I realised she wanted more than that... I thought she just wanted some sort of sick revenge, but then I began to see she was jealous. Jealous of Coral. And then I realised that… well, that it was
personal
.’

T
he laptop screen had started scrolling again, as if Meredith was there in the room, ranting at us. In a way, I suppose she was.

‘Alec,
do you think Meredith was…’ I struggled to find the right word, then he saved me the trouble.

‘Sane?’

‘I suppose “sane”
is
what I was going to say, yes. Whoever’s writing that screed,’ I said, pointing to the laptop, ‘seems to be sick. I mean, the way she talks about your mother! And you and Fergus when you were children. It’s just
horrible
.’

‘I suppose it all depends on your definition of sanity.
No doctor would ever have certified Meredith as insane. But even when she was alive, she wasn’t living in the real world. In my teens, I just thought she was away with the fairies, obsessing about her career. And her image. Och, there used to be mirrors everywhere when Meredith was alive and she couldn’t pass one without looking in it.’ A slow and crooked smile spread across Alec’s face. ‘When he was a wee lad, Meredith heard Fergus say, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” She made Sholto skelp his arse.’

‘So she really was a beautiful wicked stepmother?’

‘Aye, that’s the way she seemed to us. But we were grieving for our mother. It was understandable. As I got older, I accepted that Meredith was eccentric and could be cruel. But she had another side. She could be charming when it suited her. Dazzling. She knew how to make folk love her. But it was all about control… And even though she’s gone now, she still won’t let go. Not until she gets what she wants.’

‘Which is?’

‘Revenge. And…’ I watched as Alec’s long fingers curled round the sword hilt. ‘She wants me.’

~

Alec was a tougher nut to crack than Sholto. In fact Alec is one of my failures – and there haven’t been many of those, I can assure you. But I like a challenge. If you tell me I can’t have something, it just makes me all the more determined to have it. I’m funny like that.

So Alec remains
– how shall I put it? – work-in-progress.

It’s such a long and tedious story. And I suffered so much. I can hardly bear to recall all the details now.

To begin with, I just
felt neglected. No, I
was
neglected! Sholto was away a lot and when he was home, he was busy planning the next expedition, schmoozing sponsors for more cash, gallivanting round the UK putting his team together. It was all so bloody boring. He had no time at all for me and it wasn’t long before I realised being married to Sholto wasn’t going to be nearly as much fun as being his mistress. You see, I wasn’t actually all that interested in Sholto’s career, I’d only ever been interested in
Sholto
. And the most interesting thing about Sholto had been his interest in
me
.

I was horribly disappointed of course, but I threw myself into work and accepted jobs I really shouldn’t have taken
. They were unworthy of an artist of my calibre, but Sholto kept a tight hold on the purse strings after we married and I was damned if I was going to go cap-in-hand, asking for pin money. Once I’d sold off all my jewellery to settle my debts, I had no choice but to take whatever work was offered. And I thought absence would make Sholto’s heart grow fonder. It didn’t. Then I realised why.

I never found out who she was, but I knew something was going on behind my back. Well, two can play at that game
. I had plenty of opportunity and no shortage of admirers. I found I had a particular affinity with younger men – singers and orchestral musicians who looked up to me.
Idolised
me. They loved all the glamour and my wicked sense of humour and for the foreigners, there was a certain
cachet
to living in an ancient Scottish castle. (I told them Cauldstane was haunted, which seems rather ironic now.)

My young men
liked me and I liked their stamina. Sholto was ten years older than me and it had begun to tell. Or maybe it was just the routine of marriage. Perhaps it was all that polar exploration. God knows what that does to a human body. Whatever the reason, Sholto lost all interest in me. I don’t think it was just because of the abortion. He was very upset about that, but it wouldn’t have been at all convenient for me to have a child at that stage of my career. I was fairly certain the baby wasn’t his anyway, so really it was all for the best.

W
e grew apart. Sholto was insensitive to my needs as a woman and as a creative artist. Things came to a head when he summoned me to the library – as if I were a naughty schoolgirl! – to tell me he was prepared to turn a blind eye to my infidelities if I would be more discreet and refrain from cuckolding him with men he was likely to bump into at his club.

That made my blood boil. I wasn’t going to be spoken to like that, so I summoned the decorators and created a new bedroom for myself, one Sholto would never be allowed to enter.
Not that he ever tried.

My
marriage was over, but I still had my career, so I spent very little time at Cauldstane. I only returned when I ran out of money, but eventually I was spending more and more time at home because work was simply drying up. I’d made enemies, admittedly. Some philistine directors thought I was demanding. “Temperamental”, they said. Designers got on my wrong side, expecting me to wear unflattering outfits on stage. I explained patiently that my fans didn’t want to see me dressed up like a bag lady. But tempers got so frayed on a few occasions, I walked out of rehearsals. I also pulled out of one production at the last minute. (Actually, it might have been two.) I was traumatized by the barbaric treatment I received at the hands of whizz-kid directors who seemed bent on humiliating me. They clearly had no idea who they were dealing with. So I walked.

You can play that card a few times
, but it appeared there was a limit to what some opera houses would tolerate. Possibly I misjudged it. Doors started to close quietly. Eventually they were slammed in my face. Oh, it was all so petty!

So my agent booked me for more
song recitals and oratorios, but they weren’t really my style and didn’t pay nearly so well. In the end I tired of playing to half-empty houses, singing to an audience of bronchitic geriatrics for a mere pittance. I went home to Cauldstane to wait for the operatic tide to turn. But I knew my career might be over. As was my marriage in all but name. So I had to find other ways to amuse myself.

I didn’t have to look far. Alec
had some sort of breakdown in 1992. He dropped out of university and came home to Cauldstane.

I
’d just turned forty. Alec was twenty. And quite delicious.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I was sitting up, leaning against the bed head, trying to assimilate what Alec had told me. He’
d been still and silent for so long, I felt sure he must have fallen asleep, but then he moved, suddenly and decisively, and got out of bed. Taking his sword with him, he walked over to the writing desk and shut the laptop.

I don’t think I imagined it.
The temperature in the room really did drop a few degrees. I was staring at Alec’s bare forearms, noting the muscle required to wield the heavy tools of his trade, when he shivered convulsively. I drew the bedclothes up around me and decided I’d felt a lot safer when Alec was in the bed.

He continued to watch the laptop
, as if it might suddenly levitate. When he finally spoke, I thought he was addressing Meredith.

‘You can’t sleep in here.’

Belatedly, I realised he was referring to me. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’m in any danger. If Meredith’s out to get anyone, it’s you, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean? Why would she hold a grudge against
me
? I’m not even family.’

‘Two reasons. Of one I’m certain. The other’s a guess.
’

I began t
o feel afraid again. Cold, exhaustion and shock were starting to take their toll. ‘How can you be certain Meredith means me harm?’

He glanced around the room, paying particular attention to the remaining china figurines on the chest of drawers. Having checked their position, he said, ‘I’d rather deal with the guess first.’

‘Oh, what difference does it make?’ I said irritably. ‘Please explain, Alec. I’m very tired and I admit, I’m scared. I just want to crawl under the duvet.’

‘With me?’

I blinked several times and regarded him with dismay. He stood at the end of the bed, waiting, his face completely impassive, except for something in his eyes, something eager. Anxious, even. He wanted to know. My answer
mattered
to him. Before I could absorb the implications, it dawned on me that if Alec knew, why wouldn’t Meredith? And if
she
knew… Maybe Alec was right. I could be in for a bumpy night.

I cleared my throat noisily. ‘Well, this
is embarrassing. I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending I don’t understand you, but I’d like to know how I gave myself away. Am I really that transparent?’

‘
I didn’t know for sure until I kissed you. Up till then, I thought it could just be wishful thinking on my part.’

It was 2.00
a.m. and I was thinking very slowly, but eventually I realised there was only one possible interpretation of Alec’s words. I was too astonished to feel pleased.

‘Are you saying
that when you kissed me… you weren’t just trying to make a point?’

‘Did it
feel
like I was trying to make a point?’

‘No
. It felt wonderful.’ He smiled. That was also wonderful. ‘So that’s how you knew? Because I responded?’

‘
You behaved as if it was the most natural thing in the world – until Meredith started hurling stuff around the room. Had my attentions been unwelcome, you’d have fended me off. But you didn’t.’

‘
Oh… I see.’ There was a long, rather smug silence, then I’m sorry to say a girlish little laugh escaped my lips. I looked up at Alec apologetically.

‘
Jenny, I think Meredith knows what’s going on. Between us. And I think she’s up to her old tricks.’

‘You’ve seen this before?’

‘Maybe. Meredith bullied Coral when she was alive. Now I’m beginning to wonder if she bullied her from beyond the grave.’ I didn’t reply and silence hung between us. Two women – both dead – also stood between us. ‘But,’ Alec resumed, ‘I’m not leaving you in here on your own. I don’t know yet what game she’s playing, but Meredith obviously sees you as some sort of captive audience.’

‘You think she wants to tell me her story?’

‘Her version of her story. Aye, I think maybe she does.’

‘And
you think she also knows… how I feel about you?’

Alec’s level gaze held mine
. ‘Even if she doesn’t, she knows how I feel about
you
. I showed her. So that’s put you at risk.’

‘Oh,
hell’s bells, Alec, this is really crap timing! Not to mention unprofessional on my part. I assure you, I’ve never got involved with clients before.’

‘I’m not your c
lient. And we’re not involved. Yet. In fact, I strongly suggest you maintain a professional distance. That’s your best chance of avoiding the attentions of Meredith. In fact, Jenny… I think you have to go back to London.’

‘I can’t! I have to finish Sholto’s book.’

‘You can interview him on the phone, surely? Do your research from a distance. He can travel down to London or meet you in Edinburgh. You can discuss the draft on neutral territory.’

‘
But I love it here! Even leaving you out of it, I
love
being at Cauldstane.’

His stern expression softened. ‘
Och, Jenny, don’t fall for the castle as well. It’s just a heap of old stones.’

‘No
, it isn’t,’ I said, indignant now. ‘And you of all people know that. Anyway, what possible reason could I give for leaving?’

‘
I don’t suppose you’d consider lying? Invent some sort of domestic crisis?’

‘
I have no family. No attachments of any kind. My affairs are in good order. Even my houseplants are being looked after by a conscientious clergyman. In any case, I could no more lie to Sholto than – well, than I would lie to you.’

‘So y
ou insist on staying?’ he said wearily

‘
I do. You don’t think that bloody woman,’ I said, pointing to the laptop, ‘is going to drive me away, do you? Not now you’ve told me that… well, that my feelings are reciprocated. I don’t scare so easily!’ I folded my arms across my chest and sank back against the bed head. ‘Well, actually I
do
, but I’m also very stubborn.’

Alec was
round the bed in two strides and had taken me in his arms before I realised what had hit me. I’d enjoyed our first kiss hugely. The second was even more satisfying now I knew what it signified.

‘
Jenny, I want you to come and sleep in my room.’

‘
Oh, I’m not sure I—’

‘
No, you misunderstand me. I know this woman. Or at least, I
knew
her and it doesn’t sound as if a sojourn in hell has mellowed her. I want you to sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in here.’

‘But supposing she tries to harm
you
? You said it’s you she wants. Presumably she just wants to scare me off. I’m sure I’ll be fine in here.
Really
, Alec.’

He shook his head.
‘I want to get some sleep tonight and the only way that’s going to happen is if you’re in my room. There’s a sofa. I’ll take that and you can have the bed. No more arguments.’ I opened my mouth to speak, but he kissed me again, effectively stifling further discussion. When I surfaced, Alec’s face was very close to mine. ‘And if you think
you’re
stubborn, you should try crossing a MacNab.’

~

Alec had been an unprepossessing teenager. I’d barely registered either of the boys before their mother died, but I’d noticed Alec bore a pleasing resemblance to Sholto. Fergus was the more striking child – dark and sturdy, full of mischief, appealing if you liked small boys, which I didn’t. It was just my luck to become stepmother to two boys. At least with girls one could have talked about hair or clothes.

Fergus, being younger, bounced back after Liz’s death, but Alec – wracked with guilt, I suppose – r
emained a subdued child, frightened of animals, loud noises, just about anything in fact. Sholto said it was some long medical term I no longer remember – something to do with stress and trauma – and that Alec would suffer from it for years, possibly for ever. There had been nightmares and bed wetting, all sorts of horrors, which fortunately were past by the time I moved in. Both boys had been sent back to boarding school where it was assumed routine and the company of their friends would sort them out.

Sholto got rid of the horses, which was a crying shame as I loved to ride, but he claimed he couldn’t afford the vet’s bills. Since neither boy showed any interest in riding – Alec was now terrified of horses –
Sholto said they had to go. Well, is it any wonder I put on weight when I was deprived of one of my healthy outdoor pursuits?

In their teens, Alec shot up and Fergus didn’t. Alec was
very quiet and appeared to be good at making things with his hands. He was always taking things apart and putting them back together again, or he’d be carving some piece of wood. I hardly ever saw him without a knife in his hands. It was quite unnerving, especially as I wasn’t at all convinced he was right in the head.

Alec’s favourite activity was fencing and he used to compete nationally even as a teenager, so I suppose he must have been good. He went to Edinburgh University to read law, but he couldn’t settle. He changed to
History but according to Sholto, he spent all his time researching historical swordsmanship and competing in tournaments. There was an accident of some sort and Alec’s opponent was injured. I don’t remember the details, but Alec’s sword broke and the man he was duelling with got hurt. It wasn’t Alec’s fault, but he blamed himself and the quality of his sword. That was when he made his extraordinary decision – and Sholto encouraged him! – that he was going to become a swordsmith.

Sholto let him set up shop in the empty stables. I thought it would be a five-minute wonder, but Alec took it all very seriously, working with a local blacksmith, learning the basics and then travelling abroad to observe other swordsmiths
at work.

When he came back from a stint
of working in Germany he was a changed man. Literally. He’d gone away a slender, athletic boy with rather nice curly hair and worried eyes. He came back a man – no longer worried and no longer quite so slender. He’d put on a lot of muscle – wielding all those heavy hammers and swords, I suppose.

Alec came home confident and enthusiastic. He’d started smiling, which transformed his face and made him look much more attractive. As a boy he always looked as if someone had just died, or was about to, so I’d
tried to ignore him.

But
I couldn’t ignore the man.

To begin with, it was nothing more than something to pass the time. To begin with. I was so
bored
at Cauldstane and Sholto ignored me completely. So I just used to flirt a little, as I always did with young men. Alec seemed a bit fazed by it, but I suppose that was the stepmother thing. Or maybe he was still a virgin. But I thought that unlikely. He was now quite attractive in a scruffy sort of way. He was always grubby and frequently unshaven, but there was something about the way he carried himself, the way he moved. I used to like looking at him. Eventually I took to watching him. I got the feeling he didn’t really like that, so then it became a kind of game.

It was
such
fun.