Double Danger (9 page)

Mrs Peterson shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll advertise and hopefully be able to find someone before I’m due back in Saudi. And there’ll be plenty of room for whoever I find to live in, won’t there?’

‘There’s ample accommodation for a large staff but Mr Nairn never needed anyone except me and a couple of women from the village when there was a live-in shooting party.’

Already she was leading them up another flight of stairs. ‘This is where all the main bedrooms are.’ She opened the first door to reveal a wood-panelled room and a huge four-poster bed.

‘The other bedrooms are all similar to this one. Do you wish to inspect them all?’

‘No, no,’ Jessica managed. ‘We get the picture.’

‘That smaller staircase over there,’ Mrs Peterson said, ‘leads to rooms for the children and toilet facilities.’

‘Were there ever children living here?’ Jessica asked incredulously.

‘I have only worked for Mr Nairn here, no one else. Until now,’ she added without warmth or enthusiasm. But as they descended the stairs again, she did say in a more kindly tone,

‘You’ll be needing a cup of tea now. I’ll put the kettle on and I have some home-baked scones I think you will enjoy.’

‘Well, that’s most kind of you, Mrs Peterson, but we did promise Mrs Mellors, a friend in Vale of Lennox, that we’d be back to her in time for tea.’

‘Very well.’

‘Perhaps next time,’ Jessica said, ‘and I’ll look forward to sampling your home baking.’

‘Very well,’ Mrs Peterson repeated but in a more relaxed and pleasant tone. ‘I’ll see you to the door. Would you like Geordie to accompany you and direct you?’

Brian said, ‘Thank you but we should manage all right. The path’s very overgrown but it’s still a recognisable path.’

They waved Mrs Peterson goodbye and set off back down the long trek to where they had left their car. After they were safely out of earshot, Jessica said, ‘Do you still think it’s possible for us to make a hotel of it one day?’

‘Remember what I said. It could be an excellent investment. Try to imagine it after a good landscape gardener had cleared it all and made a lovely colourful place of it. And in time, we’ll get a house painter to do the same for the house. It could be a beautiful showplace. Stripped wood, new windows, a conservatory out from the lounge.’

‘I don’t know if I’ve got that much imagination.’

‘You just wait and see. First of all, I’ll have to put adverts all around for a landscape gardener.’

‘You’ll be lucky if you find anyone who’d be able or who’d even want to tackle a job like that.’

‘We can but try, darling. For goodness sake, cheer up. I thought you liked challenges. You were always good at taking them on in the Calton. Mrs Mellors told me you could sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo.’

Jessica laughed.

‘OK. OK. Everything in the garden – and the house – is going to be lovely. Lovely … Lovely …’ She burst into song as they stumbled and groped their way through the dense jungle.

‘I told you,’ Jessica said after waiting a week for a phone call in answer to the advert they’d put in several newspapers. ‘Any gardener who knows what a jungle the place is will give it a wide berth.’

Then Brian got a phone call from an Irishman who said he might be interested.

Jessica laughed then. ‘It needed some daft Irishman who’s never seen the place to reply. But wait until he does see that jungle. That’ll be that.’

Brian arranged for the man – Patrick O’Rourke – to come to Mrs Mellors’ cottage and from there they’d repeat the journey Jessica and Brian had already made to Hilltop House.

Patrick O’Rourke turned out to be a handsome man. He didn’t have Brian’s black hair and tanned skin. He was good-looking in a different way with his slim body and his straight blond hair tied back and blue eyes that crinkled up when he smiled. He was certainly full of Irish charm and blarney.

‘It’ll have to be a devil of a jungle to defeat Patrick O’Rourke,’ he told them.

‘Just wait until you see it,’ Jessica said.

‘Jessica, will you hold your tongue for once.’ Brian sounded tense and annoyed.

‘OK. OK.’

Once out of the car, they began struggling along the overgrown path.

‘Well, Mr O’Rourke,’ Jessica said. ‘What do you think?’

‘Patrick, please.’

‘OK, Patrick, what do you think now?’

‘I love a challenge. I’ll enjoy taming this place.’

Brian said, ‘You’d have to live in Hilltop House, Patrick.’

‘Yes, that suits me. I was needing a place to lay my head.’

When they reached the house, it only took O’Rourke a few seconds to charm Mrs Peterson and melt her stiff manner.

‘What a wonderful woman you obviously are, Mrs Peterson, to be able to live in such isolation and continue to be such a loyal and conscientious worker.’

Jessica could hardly contain a groan at such flattery and was only prevented from saying something by a warning glare from Brian.

The upshot of it all was that Mrs Peterson promised to have the best downstairs room ready for Patrick as soon as he arrived back to start work.

‘And, although I say it myself, Patrick, I’m an excellent cook. I think I can safely say that you’ll enjoy your food.’

O’Rourke gave a huge sigh of pleasure.

‘Ah, what a lucky fellow I am.’

‘So you’ll definitely accept the job?’ Brian asked.

‘Definitely, Mr Anderson.’

‘Brian.’

‘Brian and …?’ He smiled over at Jessica and she returned his smile.

‘Jessica.’

‘Jessica,’ he repeated, as if he was savouring sweet nectar.

Jessica nearly laughed but managed to contain her hilarity.

Brian said, ‘We’ve a lot to talk about, Patrick, and so we’d better get back and sort out the details.’

‘Anything you say, Brian. Just lead the way.’

Even as they struggled back along the path, they were talking about tools. O’Rourke was telling Brian what tools and equipment would be needed. Some of the tools Jessica had never heard of, like an angle grinder, pumps, fountain heads, a bolster chisel, a mason’s hammer and wire snips, to mention but a few. Other things were more common like spades and rakes, sledgehammers, trowels and a wheelbarrow.

‘The thing is, Brian, with such a large area of land, you can have such a beautiful variety. Paths, steps, patios, ponds, pools and rockeries. Climbing plants can be not only colourful and beautiful, but useful as well. I always use a colour wheel.’

‘A colour wheel?’ Brian echoed. ‘I’ve never heard of that.’

‘The colour wheel or colour circle has colours arranged so that complementary colours fall opposite each other. I’ll draw it for you and I’ll be able to explain better when we get back to the village.’

‘You certainly seem to know your job, Patrick. And I’m sure you’ll do your best, even though Jessica and I won’t be living here for a while.’

‘You can trust me, Brian. I swear on my mother’s grave you can trust me to work hard and do a good job.’

‘Ponds, pools and rockeries, you say? It won’t be easy to do that, will it? Difficult enough, I’d think, just to clear up the place so that we can comfortably walk through it up to the house.’

Patrick threw back his blond head and laughed.

‘Oh Brian, I’ve already got wonderful ideas to transform the whole estate. The bare bones are there already, if you can see past the growth. I’ll work on having it presentable first, but then we can work to transform the estate with modern ideas. You said you have children?’

‘Yes, twins. A boy and a girl.’

‘I’ll make a sandpit and a wonderful play area for them.’

‘Well, as I say, it might be a long time before they would be living here.’

Patrick shrugged. ‘It’ll take me quite a long time to do all the work needed. But one day … Oh, just you wait and see.’

Once they got back to Mrs Mellors’ cottage, it was decided that Brian would take Patrick over to the Vale of Lennox Hotel across the Green, where they would have peace to talk away from any noise and interruptions from the children. Jessica noticed that O’Rourke was as charming and flattering to Tommy and Fiona as he had been to Mrs Peterson.

‘What beautiful curls you have, Fiona,’ he said, stroking her head, ‘just like your beautiful Mammy. And Tommy, you have the straight hair of a man, like your Daddy. I think curls on a man are sissy, don’t you?’

The children were charmed not only by his words but by his lilting Irish accent.

Jessica stayed with the children as she felt she had imposed on Mrs Mellors’ time for long enough.

‘We’ve been getting on fine, Jessie. I’ve been sitting here with my knitting while they’ve been messing about with these electronic games, or whatever they call them.’

‘How’s the knitting going?’ Jessica asked. ‘I could be making some things for you in Saudi and posting them on to you if you like. Although I don’t know how dependable the post is there.’

‘No, no. I always manage to keep the stall full. I must have the fastest knitting needles in Glasgow now. Although I do miss your sales patter, I admit. And your pretty face and curly hair attracted a lot of male customers.’ She laughed. ‘What they did with the baby stuff you persuaded them to buy, I’ll never know.’

‘Don’t forget all the women’s jerseys and things I sold too. Their wives and girlfriends would appreciate them.’

‘Aye. Aye. But how are you getting on in that compound place, that’s what I’d like to know? Now that we’ve a chance to talk without Brian being here, you can spill the beans.’

‘It’s really a wonderful life. I wish you could see the place, both inside the compound and outside in the desert. But I admit I’d rather be back in the Barras. Or even in Vale of Lennox.’

‘Well, at least one of these days, you’ll be back in the area if Brian does what he says and retires to Hilltop House. And of course I’m hoping you’ll both spend more of his leaves here.’

‘I hope so too. Brian said he’ll eventually have the house painted to make it look more cheery but I can’t see that being possible. The walls are all dark panelled wood. The only thing I can see being a possibility is new, brighter-coloured carpets.’

‘Cream-coloured carpet all through,’ Mrs Mellors suggested.

Jessica nodded. ‘I suppose.’

‘Anyway, you know you and the children would be welcome to stay here. My own family always come first, of course, but it’s not likely they’d be here. My son and his wife and my three grandchildren have only been back all together once for a holiday from Australia since they’ve been away. They keep trying to persuade me to go over there – to stay for good with them or even just go for a few months. But you know me. I don’t like to leave my stall and all my friends or my nice wee cottage here.’ She sighed. ‘My son’s an awful good boy. He’s been a few times back to see me despite the expense. He’d do anything for me, that boy.’

‘Yes,’ Jessica said. ‘Anyone could see he’s really fond of you.’

‘I’ll maybe get somebody to look after the stall and go over there for a month or two some time, just to please him.’

‘So you should. I’m just wondering now how Brian’s getting on with that Patrick O’Rourke. He’s a right charmer, isn’t he?’

‘Mm.’ Mrs Mellors looked thoughtful, making Jessica feel slightly uneasy.

At least the twins were happy and excited to be back in the compound. They loved the school and all the organised recreational activities after school hours. There was even a school holiday activity club. There were so many activities to choose from, and so far the children had learned to swim and had noisy fun in the pool most days. They played junior ping-pong and were even learning karate. They jumped up and down on a trampoline in the large air-conditioned sports hall. They enjoyed the many parties that were regularly organised for all the youngsters. Before Jessica had even unpacked their suitcase, Tommy and Fiona had raced away to join a crowd of other children.

In a few days, Brian organised a drive to Jordan and the spot near the Dead Sea where historians reckoned Jesus was baptised. They also managed a desert day-trip, but without the children.

‘It’s an awful nuisance, all the equipment we have to take,’ Jessica complained.

‘You don’t know how dangerous the desert can be, darling. But we’ll be all right as long as we have everything we might need.’

Actually she would far rather have gone to the tennis court and had a game of tennis or to one of the ladies’ coffee mornings and enjoyed a coffee and a good blether. Or even just a walk. The compound was a good mile square and so there was plenty of scope for walking or jogging. But Brian was obviously enthusiastic about the day-trip across the desert.

They had already informed someone of their travel route. This was necessary, she supposed, in case they got lost or were attacked or God knew what else. Brian had also followed the rules in making sure his car was serviceable. He had to check wheels and tyres and spare tyre, jack, oil, fuel and water levels, and so on. They packed refreshments but no alcohol, of course. Saudi laws had to be strictly observed. Then there was the survival equipment in case of any emergency. Brian read the list out as Jessica helped to pack everything.

‘25 litres of water per person, re-hydrate salts, spare blankets, spare petrol, shovel, compass, cigarette lighter or matches, torch, food, mobile phone, tow rope, knife, whistle …’

‘For pity’s sake,’ Jessica gasped. ‘There won’t be enough room for us if we take any more stuff.’

‘I think that should do.’

‘Thank goodness.’

‘Oh, and don’t forget the sun cream we brought back from Glasgow.’

‘OK. OK.’ Then she giggled. ‘It didn’t half cause a bit of excitement with everybody when we brought back all that Marmite and Weetabix. Who would have thought it!’

‘Darling,’ he stopped Jessica from getting into the car. ‘You’ll have to wear your abaya. If someone saw you dressed like that, you’d be in trouble. Remember, you could be arrested and whipped.’

Jessica groaned. ‘Who’s likely to see me in the middle of the desert?’

‘We’ll be visiting various places.’

‘I hate the bloody thing.’

‘I thought you’d got used to it.’