A Rose Petal Summer Read online

  ‘It means he likes you,’ said Murdo gruffly, with no hint of embarrassment.

  Caro sprayed and rubbed, knowing only a proper wash would do the job.

  ‘Actually, would you mind if I went back and changed? It won’t take a second,’ she said.

  Heather nodded. ‘Bring your jeans back with you and I’ll put them in the machine.’

  When Caro came back, slightly out of breath, the drawing room seemed full of people. Fortunately, or maybe deliberately, Heather was on hand again to meet her.

  ‘I am so sorry about the dog!’ she said, taking the jeans. ‘Murdo dotes on him, of course, and it seems to have made George a bit territorial. But he’s a grand little dog really.’

  ‘I realised Murdo loved George and it’s a case of “Love me, love my dog” with him. I’m sure we’ll become friends. Eventually,’ said Caro.

  Heather sighed, as if with relief. ‘It’s not everyone who could forgive a dog for lifting its leg on them.’

  Caro shrugged. ‘It’s either that, or go home,’ she said bluntly.

  Heather acknowledged the truth of this with a nod. ‘Now let’s get you to meet the family.’

  ‘Are they all family?’ said Caro, suddenly a bit overwhelmed by the number of people that seemed to be in the drawing room.

  ‘Not all. One or two people work on the estate in some way or other. Now let me take you around and introduce you.’

  Caro noticed a girl – mid-teens probably – with a long rose-gold plait over one shoulder. She was strikingly beautiful and looked quintessentially Scottish, Caro decided.

  ‘That’s Rowan, Murdo’s granddaughter,’ said Heather. ‘I worry that it’s a bit lonely for her up here. Beauty alone isn’t enough when you’re seventeen.’

  Caro nodded. She wouldn’t have thought Rowan was older than about fifteen. ‘Are her parents here? I’m just trying to work out who everyone is and how they fit in.’

  ‘Skye and Alec will be here later, I think. Skye’s a bit …’ Heather paused, obviously thinking of how to describe her without being disloyal to the family. ‘Artistic.’

  Caro laughed. ‘I used to work in an artists’ supplies shop. Some of our customers were away with the fairies.’

  Heather nodded. ‘We’d call her “fey” round here. Alec is more reserved so don’t take offence if he doesn’t seem friendly. He is very busy and doesn’t socialise much. He lives in a but and ben up the glen a bit.’

  ‘So he’s Murdo’s son?’

  ‘That’s right. I’ll introduce you to Rab. He runs the smokery. And then there’s Ewan, he’s my husband, and he does everything on the estate no one else does and a lot besides. Now, what would you like to drink? There’s whisky or sherry?’

  Caro hesitated. Part of her yearned for something warming and relaxing but she felt she should hold back until she’d talked to Murdo for a bit.

  ‘I’d better go and talk to Murdo first,’ she said. ‘I didn’t get a chance earlier.’

  Heather shook her head. ‘That wee dog! But Murdo will expect you to be sociable. Have a dram. I’ll bring it over.’

  As Caro went across to Murdo she realised how grateful she was to Heather. Although obviously dedicated to the family, she would steer her through if things became rocky.

  ‘Murdo? It’s Caro.’

  The old man turned towards Caro. ‘I’m not blind, you know, just a bit less sharp-eyed than I used to be. Doesn’t mean I’m stupid, either.’

  ‘Certainly not but we didn’t get a chance to talk earlier.’ She waited for him to respond. ‘So what’s the routine? What time would you like me to turn up in the morning?’

  ‘About nine. I have my breakfast and then I like to read the paper. You can help with that. Then we might go for a drive around the estate – check on things, you know. Can you drive a Land Rover?’

  ‘I’ve never tried but I’m sure I can.’

  ‘This one’s a bit of an antique but, like me, it’s got plenty of life in it. Takes all the hills, can drive over a stream and up the other side without a bit of bother.’

  When Caro had been asked if she could drive she’d got the impression it would be trips to the shops or the doctor’s surgery, not serious off-roading. Still, she’d do her best. And if she needed to ask Ewan or someone to give her a crash course in Land-Rover-wrangling, she would.

  ‘Have you met m’son yet?’

  ‘No, your daughter interviewed me, in London.’

  ‘Lennie? She’s gone to be with her daughter, in Canada. She’s having a baby.’

  ‘She told me. It’ll be lovely for her daughter to have her mother with her.’ Caro paused. ‘Lennie – she did ask me to call her that – explained that you just needed a bit of a hand about the place and you weren’t to be nannied.’

  Murdo gave a bark that was apparently laughter. ‘Wish she knew how to take her own advice! Bossy woman, my daughter.’ He paused. ‘Though better than my son. He doesn’t care a jot about the estate.’

  While he was talking, Caro wondered why Murdo didn’t have a Scottish accent – he couldn’t have sounded more English. It was probably a class thing.

  ‘I’ve only been here five minutes but it does seem a very beautiful area. I can’t wait to explore a bit.’

  ‘I’ll show you around,’ he said confidently. When she didn’t respond instantly he went on, ‘M’sight’s not as bad as people make out. I know every stick and stone of this land. Was born here, and I’ll die here.’

  ‘Amazing,’ Caro said, not sure what the right response was.

  Then, to her relief, the man who ran the smokery, Rab, came up. ‘Good evening, Murdo. How do you do – Caro, is it?’

  ‘Short for Caroline,’ she explained.

  Rab nodded. ‘I hope you’ll come and take a look at the smokery while you’re here. It’s coming along nicely.’

  He had a lovely soft Scottish accent, Caro noticed, and she found herself smiling in response. ‘I’d love to. Do you do salmon? Or kippers? Or what?’

  ‘Mostly salmon and kippers but we want to expand.’

  Murdo snorted. ‘Waste of time. It’s not making money.’

  Caro saw Rab give Murdo a look that was part resentment and part irritation. ‘It just needs a bit of investment.’ Would he have looked at his boss like that if Murdo had been able to see? Caro wondered.

  ‘This is a sporting estate,’ declared Murdo. ‘We don’t need fancy fal-lals. Making smoked salmon – ridiculous! We’re not goddamn shopkeepers!’

  Rab gave Caro an embarrassed smile. ‘You see we don’t agree on this.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with being a shopkeeper,’ said Caro, realising too late which one of these men she needed to keep on the right side of. ‘I was one myself until recently.’

  ‘Really?’ said Murdo crossly. ‘Had I known—’

  ‘I still have all the qualifications mentioned in the advertisement,’ said Caro, quiet but firm. ‘So my recent employment isn’t really relevant.’

  As she heard the words coming out of her mouth she remembered hoping no one would ask her about what she’d done before and here she was, talking about it for the second time on her first evening. She realised it was because she felt Rab needed supporting. Murdo could indeed be rather a bully, she decided. Still, she only had to put up with him for a month or two. And maybe she would win him round. She didn’t want to have to tell Posy she’d failed, and had been mad to come up here just so she could fulfil a very childish ambition.

  She was just trying to think of something faintly placatory to say to Murdo when there was a commotion at the door. A dog streaked into the room, found George (who was under the table) and started a fight.

  Then a man and a woman appeared: the man in pursuit of the dog, and the woman smiling at everybody dreamily as if there was no altercation.

  Rowan got up and went over to the woman, who was obviously her mother. Seeing them together emphasised how alike they were – and how beautiful. The girl didn’t take any notice of th
e dog fight either.

  The man reached in under the table and dragged out the larger, younger dog, who appeared to be some sort of spaniel. ‘You tell him, George!’ he said. ‘Skye, you must learn to control your dog.’

  ‘He’s Rowan’s dog, sweetie,’ said the woman. ‘She must learn to take responsibility for her things.’

  Rowan shot her mother a resigned look and the spaniel wriggled his way free from the man.

  Seeing there was going to be more noise (although Caro realised now it wasn’t actual fighting, more an old dog telling off a young one) she called to the spaniel, ‘Here, boy!’

  The dog – and she realised it was hardly more than a puppy – came to Caro, possibly hoping her beckoning hand had something edible in it. She caught its collar and stroked its neck. It was, she decided, adorable.

  The man came over. ‘I’m so sorry. He’s entirely untrained.’

  Caro looked up at him. She’d recognised him the moment he’d entered the room but to her relief he didn’t seem to recognise her. Of course it had been nearly pitch dark when they’d met and anyway twenty years would have changed her a lot. ‘It’s fine. He’s lovely and he hasn’t peed on me.’

  Alec laughed and Caro’s heart gave a lurch. ‘Oh God, did George do that? How embarrassing! My father is no better at dog-training than Rowan is. I’m Alec, by the way.’ He turned to his daughter. ‘Rowan? Come and meet – Caro, is it? Is that what Heather told me?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Caro, wondering why Alec would introduce his daughter before his wife.

  Rowan came over. ‘Hello,’ she said quietly, with the same soft accent that Rab had.

  ‘Is this your dog?’ asked Caro, smiling encouragingly.

  Rowan shrugged. ‘Mum gave him to me. He’s called Galahad.’

  ‘Gally for short,’ said Alec.

  Rowan’s mother, Skye, swayed up to join them. ‘You must be Caro, come to help with my father-in-law. I gather you’re from London. Please don’t bring the influence of the city to bear on my daughter.’ She smiled winsomely. ‘She’s led a deliberately sheltered life. I assume I can trust you not to fill my daughter’s ears with anything unsuitable?’

  Caro thought that Skye’s beauty would have been greater had her smile been sincere. She ignored the woman’s question and turned back to the girl. ‘Rowan, you have really lovely hair.’

  Rowan started to smile in response but her mother broke in. ‘We don’t want to encourage Rowan to think about superficial things like physical beauty. Rowan is very sensitive – vulnerable to the wrong influences. It’s why we’ve homeschooled her: we wanted to set her on the right course. We hope we can trust her to follow it now.’

  ‘Bloody ridiculous!’ said Murdo, who somehow managed to overhear this bit of conversation. ‘She’s seventeen! She’s not a child any more. She should go away to finish her schooling.’

  ‘She’s far too young to leave home!’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said Murdo. ‘I went to prep school when I was seven – never did me any harm!’

  This was obviously a very well-worn argument. ‘If you overlook your complete lack of sensitivity and insight,’ said Skye, but so quietly that Caro, who was standing only a couple of feet away, could only just hear it.

  ‘He’s a dreadful old man,’ Skye whispered. ‘Terribly domineering. You’ll have to be careful he doesn’t bully you.’

  But although this was exactly what Caro had been thinking earlier, now she felt protective of him. ‘I’m sure I’ll cope.’

  She felt she was well up for Murdo – he was what she was expecting after all. But what about the rest of the family? They were another prospect all together.

  Chapter Two

  Caro had very little energy left for emailing when she got in, but she knew Posy would be anxious to hear how her mother was getting on in Scotland. And once she got started, Caro found it cathartic to write down some of her first impressions.

  Caro realised she’d have to be careful how she talked about Rab from the smokery, who had kindly escorted her back up the hill to her little plastic home. Posy would want to know if she ‘liked’ him because she was so keen for her mother to find a partner. Caro did like Rab but not in the way Posy meant it and, anyway, he probably had a wife and family.

  She was free to let rip about the caravan not being as expected with a turf fire and stone walls, but being made of plastic and having an odd smell. And she put in how her new boss’s dog had peed on her leg because it would make Posy laugh. She rounded the email off with a quick and pithy description of Murdo and then fell into bed. She almost felt obliged to add a PS – that someone had put a hot-water bottle in the bed and that was lovely. It must have been Heather, thought Caro as she cuddled into it. How extremely kind.

  Rab had suggested it would be a good idea for her to get used to the Land Rover before she drove Murdo round the estate in it and they’d arranged to meet up so she could have a practice with him. This was after she’d admitted she didn’t do a lot of driving as she lived in London, and when she did it was in an ordinary car on ordinary roads.

  ‘He’ll want to take you everywhere,’ Rab had said, ‘and some of the tracks are in very bad repair. He’ll swear at you if you crash the gears or slip back going up a steep bank.’

  However, she had slept well and felt excited as she left the caravan, wearing pretty much all of her clothes, to find Rab and the Land Rover.

  ‘Well, that was fun!’ she said after half an hour of bouncing around the property with Rab roaring instructions – roaring not because he was bad-tempered but so he could be heard over the sound of the engine.

  ‘Now you’d better go in for your porridge,’ Rab said, laughing. ‘You’ve done really well.’

  ‘For a girl?’ she said, teasing him.

  He shook his head. ‘For someone who hasn’t driven a cranky old Defender before.’

  Caro stopped. ‘I thought it was a Land Rover?’

  ‘It is! Don’t worry. Now I’m away off to the smokery.’

  ‘You’re not coming in for breakfast then?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I was invited to dinner as part of your welcome. I don’t live in the big house. I had breakfast hours ago. I may see you at lunchtime though.’

  Caro went in through the back door, as directed by Rab. She liked him, he’d be a good friend, but there was no chemistry there. He was too beardy for her. And besides, although she despised herself for being so foolish, Caro’s interest in men was only pointing in one direction at the moment. She was harking back to a man she’d met for one night, over twenty years ago. The fact that Alec was married didn’t stop her feeling attracted, but it would stop her letting him guess her feelings, even if her pride alone wasn’t enough. But she was realistic and very confident that when she got to know him better she would stop fancying him. Familiarity breeding contempt, and all that. It had always worked for her in the past.

  Murdo didn’t like small talk at breakfast, she had been told. He did, however, like to read the paper. As he could no longer read it for himself, it meant Caro had to.

  ‘Morning, Murdo!’ she said breezily as she came in.

  George, asleep under his master’s chair, awoke and thumped his stubby tail in welcome. An improvement on his behaviour yesterday, thought Caro.

  ‘Is it morning? Could be the middle of the night for all I can tell. I’m nearly blind, you know,’ said Murdo.

  Caro’s sigh of frustration was almost silent. ‘I promise I won’t say another word if it’s going to make you so grumpy,’ she said.

  ‘Who are you to tell me I’m grumpy?’ demanded Murdo.

  ‘I’m the woman hired by your daughter, at vast expense, to keep you amused while she is away, if you really have forgotten.’

  ‘Whisht with your nonsense!’ said Heather, putting a large plate of kippers in front of Murdo. ‘And let the poor woman have a bite to eat before you jump down her throat.’

  The way Heather seemed to ignore Murdo’s bru
squeness reinforced Caro’s opinion that he shouldn’t be pandered to. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Caro. ‘I’m used to grumpy old men.’

  ‘What?’ Murdo was outraged.

  ‘Grumpy old men who can be completely charming if they have a mind to.’ She paused. ‘I rather like them.’

  Caro had confirmed it had been Heather who’d put the hot-water bottle in her bed. Heather had brushed it off as not being a big thing to do, but had obviously liked Caro being so appreciative. Caro knew that Heather would have had to run up the hill to the caravan while the house was full of people, most of them wanting food.

  While Caro waited for her porridge, she looked at Murdo’s kippers dubiously.

  She said, ‘Will you manage the kippers or would you like me to help you take out the bones?’

  ‘They’re fillets, so I just eat them,’ said Murdo. ‘You can pour the coffee when it comes. I’m not completely helpless.’

  Caro started on her porridge, wondering why there were only two places set at the big round table. Last night there’d been a lot of family for dinner.

  ‘Will Alec and Skye and Rowan be joining us for breakfast?’ she asked.

  ‘Certainly not. They have their own house. Not sure who lives where now though.’ He carried a forkful of kipper successfully to his mouth, only losing a bit of it on the way. ‘God knows where the woman lives,’ he went on. ‘She left m’son, you know, but she still lives locally. I suppose it’s handy for young Rowan. Plenty of houses on the estate.’ He paused while he loaded up another forkful of kipper. ‘Happy with your accommodation, are you?’

  Caro suddenly was happy with her accommodation. Alec and Skye weren’t married any more. That made her very happy indeed. The plastic caravan no longer seemed important. ‘It’s fine, thank you.’ She spooned up her last bit of porridge. ‘Tell me when you’d like me to start reading the paper.’

  ‘Just having porridge, are you? Find I’m starving at ten o’clock if I have that.’

  ‘I’ll maybe have some toast as well then.’ She wanted to cut down on carbs but the news that Alec was single meant she didn’t care for a moment. She shook her head to clear it. ‘So? Home news? Foreign news? What do you like?’