Authors: Margaret Thomson Davis
Afterwards, they’d had a meal in the hotel on the Green. Mrs and Mrs Peterson were there, and Patrick O’Rourke, Dr and Mrs Plockton and Douglas Brown, and two or three others. It was a small gathering because, of course, few people in the area knew Brian. A couple of the other mothers came for Jessica’s sake because they’d met her and chatted with her when they were dropping off their children at school and collecting them at the end of the day.
Once the meal was over, Jessica thanked everyone and said her goodbyes. Then she and the children, the Petersons and Patrick O’Rourke set off on the road back to Hilltop House. Patrick put his arm around her waist for support and half-carried her. He’d offered to lift her up in his arms and carry her properly but she refused to allow him to do that. She secretly thought he didn’t look all that strong and she had a vision of his lanky body collapsing under the weight of her long before they reached the house. But she told him she appreciated his kind offer but he should concentrate on helping the children.
Mrs Peterson made a pot of tea as soon as they all arrived back in the kitchen.
While they were sitting round the table sipping the hot comforting liquid, Mrs Peterson asked, ‘Will you still be going ahead with the hotel idea?’
‘Yes,’ Jessica said. ‘Definitely. It was what Brian wanted. He was so full of enthusiasm about it. For his sake, I must get it organised right away. Will you go ahead and see to the staffing, Mrs Peterson, and Patrick, you’re going to see about gardeners, aren’t you?’
‘Everything’s in hand, Jessica.’
‘Fancy,’ Jessica told Mrs Peterson. ‘I didn’t realise that a landscape gardener was a designer and I was expecting Patrick to do all the spade work and everything.’
‘Oh, I see to ponds, pools and rockeries, steps and patios as well. I can turn my hand to anything.’
Geordie’s mouth twisted.
‘Aye, you’re awfae good wi’ women as well!’
Patrick’s cheeks dimpled. ‘Ah Geordie, you noticed. And I can’t deny it. Like Robert Burns, I do love the fair sex.’
He turned to Jessica. ‘I’m a fan of your national bard. Have you read much of his work, Jessica?’
‘I know most of the famous ones.’
Patrick gazed at her and his beautiful Irish voice softly recited,
‘O my love is like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June.
O my love is like the melody
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.’
Geordie spat into the fire and said, ‘Aw shit.’
‘Mummy,’ Tommy said, ‘Patrick doesn’t play with us any more.’
‘That’s just because he’s so busy now, dear. We’re all busy with making this place into the hotel that Daddy wanted it to be. Patrick has all that road to widen and these big hilly grounds to see to. And he’s to be there to tell the gardeners what to do and make sure they do it right.’
Fiona said, ‘Did you get our karate suits yet?’
‘Yes. Where’s the parcel? Oh yes, here we are.’
Tommy and Fiona immediately pounced on the parcel and tore it open. Fiona said,
‘They’re great but where did our other karate suits go? Remember we had them in the compound?’
‘I know, dear, but with all that rush getting away, I’m afraid we forgot to bring a lot of things. Anyway, I didn’t think you’d need them in a wee country village where nothing would be going on.’
‘Mr Brown has lots of great things going on,’ Fiona hotly defended the teacher. ‘Even in a wee country village, he has more going on than there was in the compound.’
This was such an exaggeration that it was an effort for Jessica not to smile.
‘You’re right, dear. He certainly is a wonderful teacher.’
He was a wonderful teacher, right enough, and he had also become a good and dependable friend to her.
For touching sympathy, however, there was Patrick. He would sometimes put his arms around her waist as they walked together over the grounds of the estate. He talked about all the plans in progress. Jessica spoke about Brian and what he would think of everything. Patrick showed her the small classical fountain set in a shallow circular pool. He also pointed out the pre-cast pool in a sloping part of the garden that had been cleverly camouflaged with plants. There was the man-made water feature incorporating cascades and pools with various water-loving plants, giving it a natural charm.
In another area there were Art Deco steps. She remarked about them, ‘They seem to beckon you to climb them, don’t they?’
Patrick squeezed her waist. ‘It makes it all worthwhile when you appreciate it so much, Jessica.’
She smiled but delicately drew away from him.
‘I love the new patio.’
‘Yes, it’s a crazy-paved circular one. It makes a good surface for bench seats and picnic tables. I thought it would be handy for hotel guests sitting and sunning themselves.’ He smiled. ‘That’s if we’re lucky enough to have a sunny summer. But lots of people will come to Hilltop House anyway, no matter what the weather is like. It’s such a fascinating place, with such an unusual atmosphere.’
Sometimes the children walked up the road by themselves now because, as Patrick said, they knew the way and he and the gardener were always around somewhere nearby to look out for them. And after all, they were ten years old now. Soon they would have to travel a much longer distance to one of the big schools. It was good to give them this chance, Patrick said, to learn to be independent.
‘And it’s easier now that the road’s wide enough for cars.’
In the struggle with her grief over losing Brian, Jessica appreciated Patrick’s warm sympathy, although she also struggled not to go to the extremes that Brian had always warned her against. Now this meant trying to keep Patrick from going to any extremes either. It was to her, not the children, that he recited and quoted lovely poetry.
‘I know not how it is with you –
I love the first and last
The whole field of the present view,
The whole flow of the past.’
One poem he had quoted about a deserted old shooting lodge made her cry out, ‘Thank God at least Hilltop House isn’t like that any more.’
There were still all the antlers and heads and skins of animals that were the result of Mr Nairn’s shooting parties. At first, Brian had agreed that they should be taken down and destroyed, and perhaps nice paintings hung to replace them. But once they’d decided to have the place as a hotel, he’d changed his mind.
‘I think we should keep the hall as it is until we get a response from guests. If most guests don’t like the look of the walls, then we can strip all the heads and skins, and so on, and replace them with paintings. Until then, I think we should leave the hall, like everything else, as it is.’
But they were not going to have any more shooting parties, of course.
Jessica kept herself busy with the preparations for the hotel and only saw Patrick occasionally during the day and in the evening, but once she was taken aback in the garden with him grabbing her hand and swinging her along as he sang,
‘And it’s westering home and a song in the air,
Light in the eye, and it’s goodbye to care.
Laughter o’ love and a welcoming there,
Isle of my heart, my own one.’
She couldn’t help smiling. He really was a remarkable and endearing man. She was getting quite fond of him.
* * *
Tommy and Fiona didn’t like Patrick any more. They hardly ever saw their mother. She was so busy doing things in the house and discussing things with Mrs Peterson. When they did see her, Patrick was always there. It was the only time he was in the slightest way pleasant to them. At any other time, if they saw him when their mother wasn’t there, he was dismissive and unpleasant. They were becoming frightened of him. They instinctively felt he was up to something but they didn’t know what. Until, that is, they overheard a conversation between him and Geordie. They had been on their way to watch them working on the road. It was when they were walking along behind some high bushes that they heard Geordie say,
‘Aye, you’re fairly getting your feet under the table now, eh? You’ve got that poor lassie eating out of your hand.’
They heard Patrick’s laughter. But it wasn’t a nice laugh.
‘Once I get a ring on her finger and I own this place, you and your missus had better look out. Do you understand?’
‘Oh aye, I’ve understood you right from the word go, you rotten two-faced swine.You’ll be the death of that poor lassie yet.’
Tommy and Fiona stood frozen in horror. They very quietly sank down on to their knees to remain hidden until both Geordie and Patrick moved away. Then they scrambled up and ran back to the house.
Once in the house, they couldn’t find their mother and had to ask Mrs Peterson where she was. ‘Your mother was looking for you,’ Mrs Peterson said. ‘She’s had to go to Glasgow for bed linen and towels and things. She’ll be back tonight.’
Tommy blurted out, ‘We wanted to tell Mummy that Patrick’s a bad man.’
‘Oh yes, we live and learn. We know that now, son. Sit down and don’t you worry your heads about that rascal. Here’s a couple of Irn Brus.’
Both children were taken aback by Mrs Peterson’s attitude. How could she remain so calm? ‘We,’ she’d said. Did that mean she and Geordie knew that Patrick was a bad man or did it mean their mother knew as well?
‘Does Mummy know that he’s a bad man?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, she’ll know soon enough.’
What did that mean? How could she find out?
Because it was the start of the school summer holidays, the day stretched long and dangerously before them. After a frightened whispered conversation, they decided to leave a note for their mother telling her what Geordie and Patrick had said and then they would go down and tell Mr Brown and feel safe with him. He would know what to do to protect them and their mother.
They wrote the note, put it in an envelope and addressed it: ‘To Mummy, from Tommy and Fiona. URGENT.’
Then they propped it up on the kitchen table. They had been going to give it to Mrs Peterson to pass on to their mother but Mrs Peterson was nowhere to be seen and they were desperate to get away before Patrick appeared in the house. He would guess by their guilty, frightened appearance that they’d found out about him.
They ran from the house and out on to the hilly slopes of the garden. They prayed that Patrick would not be on or near the path. Their prayers were not answered because they heard the sound of running feet and turned to find Patrick running down the path towards them. In no time, he’d caught up with them and grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck.
‘You little bastards. If you write any more notes or speak to your mother or anyone else in a bad way about me, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me? I’ll kill you and your mother.’ He pushed his face near to theirs. ‘I’ll know. I’ll find out, as I’ve found out today. I’ll stab a knife into your precious mother and I’ll make you watch me cutting her up into pieces before I start on the pair of you. Do you understand?’
In absolute terror, they nodded their heads.
‘I promise you that’s what I’ll do. Never you forget it. Now get back to the house.’
He caught them by the hair and cracked their heads together. In physical agony now, they did as they were told and staggered back towards the house.
Jessica was late in returning from Glasgow and because the children looked so pale and drawn, Mrs Peterson had put them to bed early. Despite their distress, they fell asleep almost immediately.
Jessica checked that they were all right and gave their sleepy faces a kiss before she returned downstairs.
‘As well as all the shopping, I took the chance of having a look around the Barras and visiting my friend Evie,’ she told Mrs Peterson. ‘And I’d some business with the solicitor as well, so I got a lot done. I hope you didn’t have any bother with the children.’
‘No, no. They looked extra tired, that was all, so I thought it best to put them to bed early.’
Geordie came in then with a pail of coal, raked out the fire and built it up with fresh coal. Then he disappeared to empty the ash pan outside. After he returned, he sat down at the table beside them, lit his pipe and said,
‘Had a good day?’
‘Yes, I was just telling Mrs Peterson. I got a lot done. I visited the Barras and a friend in the Calton, as well as shopping. I enjoyed seeing some old friends again. Where’s Patrick, by the way?’
Mrs Peterson said, ‘I think he and some of the men were putting some last touches to the road. There’s a lot more to do to make it attractive, he says, but at least a car can get up it now.’
‘I thought that as I was coming up tonight. I was glad of my trolley to carry my shopping. But I was just thinking – next time I could get a taxi up. I didn’t see Patrick or the men, though.’
‘They must have moved to another part. He’s really keen to get everything looking its best in time to make a success of the hotel. It won’t be long before you can advertise and give a definite date, will it?’
‘No. It depends on how many staff you can get, Mrs Peterson. How are you doing with that?’
‘Oh, I’ve had quite a few accepted jobs already. They’re fine when they realise it’s not going to be so isolated. I mean the road being opened up, and so on. And of course I was able to tell them that the phone people are due to come any time now and get all the phones installed.’
‘So we can plan for an opening date in say a month’s time at most?’
‘Definitely.’
‘I’ll try to make it earlier because of the school holidays. Some folk would maybe want to bring their children.’
Mrs Peterson said, ‘I think the twins are missing school already. They didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves today.’
‘Missing Mr Brown more than anything, probably. They’re very fond of him. Has he gone away on holiday somewhere?’
‘He’s got a caravan up in Wester Ross. He often goes there for a week or more during the summer. I hear it’s a really beautiful area.’
‘I feel guilty at not giving so much time and attention to the twins just now, especially when they’ve no school to go to and fill up their days.’
‘It’s just temporary and you’ve no choice. There’s so much to do at this early stage. But once the hotel is up and running, it’ll be different. And the children have lots they can do. There’s the swings to play on for a start, although they’re a bit big for the sandpit now.’