Cauldstane (20 page)

‘What do you remember before that?’

‘Being excited about my bike. I’d cycled twice all the way round the castle and I came tearing through the archway into the courtyard. Then… well, there was a lot of noise.’

‘What sort of noise?’

‘Hooves clattering on the cobbles… the horse neighing… a woman screaming… my bloody klaxon… Cacophony.’

‘That’s what you remember most? The noise?’

‘Aye. And Ma lying on the ground. With blood coming out of her ear.’

‘But you must have seen her fall too. Sorry, Alec – just say if this is too much.’

After a moment’s hesitation, he took a deep breath and, his voice matter-of-fact, launched into a speech. ‘I cycled into the courtyard, sounding my horn. The noise startled the mare, she reared up and Ma was thrown to the ground. Then the horse galloped off past me. I fell off my bike and lay there crying until Meredith came and asked me what had happened, what had frightened the horse. I told her it was me. It was my fault. I’d sounded my horn and that had startled the horse. She’d thrown Ma and galloped off.’

‘You told her all that?’

‘She made me tell her twice. I suppose I wasn’t making much sense.’

‘Sholto said you were wailing like a banshee.’

‘Probably.’

‘But you don’t remember?’

‘If I’m perfectly honest, Jenny—’

He hesitated
again. I reached out, laid a hand on his and quoted his words to me. ‘Why be anything else?’

He shook his head.
‘My memories are… patchy.’

‘I suppose the
y must have faded over the years.’

‘
I don’t think so. What happened that day never seemed crystal clear to me. Not like the day Coral drowned. Or the day I had to go and identify her body. I suppose being a child makes all the difference. It was all so confusing… And the horse was so bloody
loud
. I’ll never forget that. Or seeing Ma lying on the ground, with her eyes open. I could see all her teeth. It was like she was grinning up at me. As if she was pleased to see me. I remember that.’

‘Oh, Alec, I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It happened a very long time ago. We’ve all moved on. Ferg and I had a wonderful mother. We just didn’t have her for very long. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at dinner?’

‘You think I’d miss Wilma’s pie?
’ He smiled in answer, but his face looked drawn. ‘I think I’ll go out for a walk now. I feel the need for some fresh air.’

He
bent and kissed me gently. ‘You take care now. You’ll have your phone?’

‘Of course. Stop worrying about me!’ I stood up and turned to f
ace him. Looking into those dark grey eyes, I saw concern. No, more than concern. I saw fear. Not fear for himself, fear for me. I lifted a hand to cup his face and he leaned into my palm, closing his eyes. I observed his long lashes and smooth forehead and wondered if I’d ever seen Alec look so peaceful. ‘It’s
you
she’s after, Alec. Not me. And I really can’t say I blame her. I’d fight for you too.’

He opened his eyes, took me in his arms and we stood still, say
ing nothing for a long time, then he said, ‘Work’ and I said, ‘Walk’. We released each other and went our separate ways. But I double-checked I had my phone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was a relief to be outdoors, out of the castle, away from my room and my laptop. It was a positive pleasure to be moving smartly across the courtyard,
out of the long shadows of Cauldstane and into the autumn sunshine. I buttoned up my thick cardigan against the chilly breeze and headed for the stone bridge and riverside walk which had become my favourite.

As I crossed the bridge
, I averted my eyes from the Blood Stone projecting from the water. Instead, I gazed downstream at the brown water hurtling over the rocks. The movement and sounds entranced me, almost hypnotized me. I stared into the river from the bridge and for one vertiginous moment it was as if I was being drawn down towards the water; as if the current had the power to pull first my mind, then my body into the river.

My reverie was interrupted by a shout
, a male voice hailing me. I looked up to see Fergus on the opposite bank, seated on a ride-on mower, pulling a trailer. The trailer contained a barking collie and two dark-haired children. He waved and switched off the ignition, then turned and said something to the children who climbed out of the trailer, laughing and shrieking, then ran off into the woods followed by their dog. Fergus jumped off the mower and jogged up onto the bridge.

‘The Cauldstane taxi service, at your disposal, ma’am. Can I take you for a ride along the riverbank? Or into the woods? You looked a wee bit
sad, staring down into the water. Is my father giving you a hard time?’

‘Not at all. He’s an absolute de
light. Couldn’t be more helpful. But Cauldstane’s giving
him
a hard time, isn’t it?’

‘Aye
, and so am I. Were you wanting to talk about that some time? As background for the book, I mean. Sholto and Alec will have given you the emotional and historical perspective. But there’s another point of view. Financial. Practical.’

‘Yes, I know. They’ve both been at pains to give me a balanced view of the problems you all face. But of course I’d also like to talk to you.’

‘Now?’

‘Do you have a few minutes?’

He leaned on the bridge parapet. ‘Fire away.’

‘You want to sell up, don’t you? Put Cauldstane on the market.’

‘I don’t
want
to, but I think we should, aye.’

I wasn’t quite sure how to proceed, how to avoid
asking the bald question that would seem impertinent. I looked up at Cauldstane, at the mass of pale pink stone rising up incongruously above the steep river gorge. I gazed up at the window of my room and thought how lucky I was to be able to live here, if only for a few weeks. I thought of the MacNabs living here for centuries, then of the current incumbents having to leave. Finally, I blurted out the tactless words. ‘Fergus, how can you bear to think of leaving?’

‘I think of little else other than how we can
stay
. I have ideas. I’ve even drawn up business plans for some of them, but everything that could make Cauldstane commercially viable requires money in the first instance. We’re blessed with a lot of assets here, but cash isn’t one of them.’

‘What would your priorities be if you came into some cash?’

‘It would depend how much and whether the bank would lend us money on the strength of it.’

‘But you do have some ideas?’

‘Plenty.’

Reaching into my shoulder bag for a notebook, I said, ‘Tell me about them. Imagine I was looking to invest in Cauldstane. How would you sell the idea to me?’

Fergus grinned and launched into his sales pitch. ‘It would be a simple matter to renovate outbuildings and the empty houses on the estate. There are four houses and I reckon we have buildings that could be converted into three separate self-catering units. Let’s say we could average £250 a week for each of those – that’s a conservative estimate. You could charge a fortune for Christmas and Hogmanay, but you’d be unable to rent them out for much of the winter. So you’re probably talking about an annual rental income of somewhere between eighty or ninety thousand a year. Even after deductions, there would be enough left over to enable Alec to take on an assistant, which would allow him to double his output and thus his income. And that’s a major source of revenue for us. That money would allow us to smarten up the castle itself. Possibly open it to visitors – maybe just a couple of days a week to begin with. We could see how it went. But if we provided all the extras – a café, a wee souvenir shop where Sholto’s book would be on sale of course,’ Fergus added with a smile, ‘a plant stall, a picnic site, an adventure playground… You’re talking about a grand day out for the family. Folk might pay handsomely for a chance to snoop round a castle that’s still a family home.’

‘Do you have
more rooms you could open up to show?’

‘Aye,
and any amount of junk in the attics to furnish them. We’d need to get more toilets put in and who knows what else to comply with Health and Safety regulations, but plenty of other castle owners have done it. You need a few gimmicks of course. Falconry displays, open air concerts. Some added attraction.’

‘Alec could presumably put on some sort of historical swordsmanship show with some
of his mates.’

‘Oh aye
, he’d love that.’

‘And I’m sure if she used to run a restaurant, Zelda would be quite capable of running a
café, especially with Wilma to help. Perhaps you could do candlelit dinners in the evenings.’

Fergus nodd
ed. ‘We’re thinking along the same lines, Jenny. Cauldstane could also be developed as a wildlife centre. We’ve got red kites as the main attraction, but there’s other bird life. And red squirrels. Badgers. Pine martens. We could build hides in the woods and have a nature trail. And the estate could be developed for sport. The river’s full of fish. Then there’s always weddings… There’s so much we could do, if we only had some cash. I just need someone to give me a million to get started. Then – just watch me! – I’d make this place earn its keep.’

‘Does the family have anything to sell? Jewellery? Paintings? What about the harpsichord? How much is it worth?’

‘A lot, but not a million. Aye, it could go, if you can persuade Sholto. But he’s not good at getting rid of stuff. I know for a fact that somewhere in the attic there’s a Hornby train set he and Torquil used to play with.
That
would fetch a good price on eBay,’ Fergus said with a grin.

‘Alec told me there are a lot of paintings.’

‘There are, but I don’t know if any of them are worth much. No one’s ever really looked at them. Torquil started making an inventory of Cauldstane valuables because he knew we were massively under-insured. But then he became ill and abandoned it. Sholto’s never bothered because he knows he couldn’t afford the insurance premiums. But as far as I know, we’re not sitting on any Rembrandts. More’s the pity.’

Fergus
fell silent but didn’t seem in any hurry to depart, so I said, ‘Would you mind if I asked you another question? I’d really like to know what you remember about your mother’s death. I’ve talked to Sholto and Alec, but I’d really like to have a complete picture. If you don’t mind.’

He frowned.
‘I don’t think I actually remember much. I was only five. It’s hard now to distinguish my memories from what I was told had happened. I remember crying and Sholto picking me up. But I think I was crying because Alec was crying. I didn’t know
why
he was crying and I certainly didn’t realise Ma was dead. You don’t really understand death at five. I mean, I’d had pets that died and I’d seen animals hanging in the game larder. Dad had friends who came and shot things for fun and I knew that was somehow OK, it was called sport. But I didn’t understand about death and humans.’

‘Who told you your mother was dead?’

‘Dad, much later. He told me there’d been an accident and Ma was badly injured, then he took me away indoors. I remember that. I wanted to be with Alec, but Wilma had taken him off somewhere. There were other folk around. Meredith and her sister, Pam. There might have been others. It was a bit of a house party that weekend. We were supposed to be going fishing and they’d said I could come. I remember being very excited about that, but it didn’t happen. That’s how Dad broke the news to me. He came into the old nursery where Alec and I used to play. Pam and I were doing a jigsaw. Dad asked her to leave, then he sat down and pulled me on to his lap and held me. He said he was very sorry, but we wouldn’t be going fishing after all. I started to cry again. I don’t think I was crying about the fishing. At some level I think I already knew why we weren’t going. Then Dad said Ma had fallen off her horse and been killed. I’d be lying if I told you I remember anything after that.’

‘Did Sholto tell you Alec had caused the accident?’

‘Och, no! He said it was the mare’s fault. But Alec told me he’d frightened the horse with his horn.’

‘When
did he tell you that?’

‘
When he gave me his bike. He said he didn’t want it any more and that I could have it. I asked him why he didn’t want it. First of all he said he just didn’t want to ride it any more. I couldn’t understand that. I thought there must be some sort of catch – it was a brand new bike! I kept asking Alec why he didn’t want the bike. Made a real nuisance of myself. Then in the end he told me. About causing the accident. I was pretty angry with him, but at the same time he was offering me his
bike
… It was confusing for a five-year old. But self-interest won. I accepted the gift. I’ve often wondered whether that was Alec’s way of saying sorry. Sorry he’d been responsible for the death of our mother. I don’t know. We were two unhappy wee boys, with a grief-stricken father who wasn’t coping. Wilma was very kind. So was Zelda. They both did their best to compensate, but things were never the same without Ma. Before she died, folk laughed and smiled. We were one big happy family. Then the sun went in and we seemed to enter a perpetual winter. But maybe I’m just talking about growing up. When you look back on your childhood, you think the sun was always shining.’

‘Even in the Highlands?’

Fergus laughed. ‘Oh, aye, even in the Highlands.’

‘Did you get on with your stepmother?’

His face clouded over. ‘As a kid, I hated her – and I think the feeling was mutual. Fortunately she took very little notice of me. She always preferred Alec.’ I shot Fergus a sidelong glance, wondering how much he knew, but to judge from his far-off expression, he was still wrapped up in childhood memories. ‘Alec was the clever one. He worked hard at school. He was good at sport, but he was quiet. He’d been the quiet one before Ma died and afterwards… well, Alec was just
silent
. I wasn’t. I was noisy, dirty, naughty – as wee boys are – and I’m pretty sure Meredith detested me. So I was always keen to get back to school. Which I loved.’

‘Did you get on any better with Meredith when you were
an adult?’

Fergus heaved a sigh, then said,
‘I’ll be straight with you, Jenny – no, I didn’t. When I was young, she couldn’t measure up to my mother – nobody could – and when I was older, I saw that she didn’t make Dad happy. And she was often nasty to Coral for some reason. We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but if you want my honest opinion – and this is off the record, mind – Meredith was a selfish bitch. Talk to Zelda if you want a kinder assessment. Or Wilma. Meredith was good to her in a lady-of-the-manor sort of way. Meredith liked having servants, whereas the rest of us think of Wilma as family almost. She was brilliant when Ma died and she was only a young woman then. You forget, seeing her now. Wilma was much the same age as Meredith and when Ma died, Wilma took on running Cauldstane, supervising us, holding Dad together. He and Wilma became quite close I think. He grew to rely on her. We all did. If you’re writing a book about Dad and Cauldstane, Wilma should have her own chapter.’

‘
I’d come to the same conclusion myself, but it’s up to Sholto. He dictates the content. I’m just his mouthpiece.’

‘
Och, Wilma would
hate
the attention anyway. But she’s a grand lady and we all owe her a great deal. She’s an honorary MacNab. In fact, I often think how different things might have been if Dad had married Wilma, not Meredith.’ He glanced at his watch and said, ‘If you’ll excuse me, Jenny, I need to get cleaned up before dinner. I’ll see you later, no doubt.’

He walked back down to the riverbank, climbed on to the mower and turned
on the ignition. He gave me a wave, then set off along the path. After a few moments he was out of sight. After a few more, the river drowned the distant sound of his engine. I decided to continue my walk and crossed over to the opposite bank.

I hadn’t been walking for long when I heard another shout, a child’s voice this time. I turned
and saw a small dark-haired girl, about seven or eight, skipping along the riverbank, perilously close to the edge. I wasn’t sure if she was one of the children I’d seen earlier. She was singing to herself, some tuneless rhyme, while hopping over stones and tussocks of grass. I waited to see if an accompanying adult would appear from the woods. When no one came, my stomach began to squirm with anxiety. I set off in the direction of the little girl, walking quickly to catch her up before she could come to any harm. Reaching into my bag, I grasped my phone, unsure who to ring. I took my eyes off the child for only a moment while I scrolled down and selected Fergus’ number, but by the time I looked up again, she was gone.