‘I don’t need you to explain yourself,’ Kate said once Liz had gone. ‘Not to me. I just …’ She paused and tried a less flustered approach. ‘I think you and I have got off on the wrong foot.’
He put his arms behind his head. ‘Do you, now?’
‘Yes,’ Kate said. ‘You don’t? You enjoy meeting new people and there being a permanent air of awkwardness?’
‘Who says it’s awkward?’
Kate looked at him wide-eyed.
‘And who says it’s permanent?’ James continued. ‘By all accounts you’re only here for six months.’
It was Kate’s turn to breathe deeply. ‘Are you always like this?’ she muttered under her breath.
‘Pretty much,’ he replied.
‘Good to know. Listen,’ she said, ‘forget about the tour. Just hand me the keys to the cottage and I’ll go on my own.’
‘The key’s under the mat but you’ll never find the cottage on your own.’
‘We’ll see. Where is it exactly?’
‘It’s on the far side of the loch, through the trees. But there’s no path from the loch anymore. The footpath that once was there has overgrown and the ferns and trees have grown up around it. The cottage is almost hidden now. I’ve been driving round from the woodland. I’ve cut a vehicle path through it and hacked my way through the rest to make a footpath to the front door. Take the Land Rover if you want. Just, try and drive a bit more carefully than you normally do.’
Kate ignored that last comment. ‘I’m sure I’ll find it on foot. I could do with the walk.’
‘OK, so you’re not listening,’ he said, exasperation tingeing his voice. ‘You won’t see it. You’ll miss it completely.’
‘Key’s under the mat you say?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, be my guest.’
Kate had never been so glad to get out of a place in her life. James was positively hostile, rude and unbelievably arrogant. And so … knowing. She breathed down the clean highland air and walked round towards the ornamental garden in order to find the path down to the loch.
‘You won’t find it,’ Kate mimicked James as she slipped through the arched opening in the hedge towards the shore. Was the cottage invisible then? Stupid man. She walked along by the water’s edge. The sun streamed down onto the expanse of still water. Kate paused to take in the view, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face and arms. Despite James’s behaviour, her shoulders were unstiffening and she felt her body relax. A few moments standing in front of a peaceful loch were far more effective than the weekly yoga class she’d been taking back in London. A walk through the woods was just what the doctor ordered and she skirted the loch, feeling the comforting crunch of pebbles and shingle under her boots.
On the far side, Kate turned back by the tree line and faced the house. It really was a handsome building: imposing, baronial, stately – especially from here, where the view across the water and the ornamental garden gave the house an immaculate air, masking the near dilapidation inside. Kate smiled at her luck having landed a job here, then headed into the woods.
How long had she been walking? Half an hour? An hour? She really hadn’t thought this through at all. The large pine trees loomed skinny and tall and their leaves rustled overhead as a hint of a breeze swept through before growing silent almost as fast as it had started. The ground was blanketed in green spindly ferns. It was a job to know where to place her feet, hoping they landed correctly on the ground, out of sight, beneath the deep greenery. Every few yards or so a clump of tall purple foxgloves grew, unexpectedly sturdy and tall between rocks and crevices. Further along, Kate smiled to see thistles, feeling like a tourist at having spotted Scotland’s national flower. The purple flowers crowned them, completely juxtaposed with the rest of their oversized spiky appearance, transforming them into a thing of unexpected beauty. A large rock protruded by a series of trees, grouped together. She had passed this; she was sure she had. Was she going round in circles? What had first appeared striking woodland now appeared almost malevolent.
Kate stood still and listened. To her left she could hear the soft sound of running water, which couldn’t be the loch. She was too far inside the forest. Other than the sound of moving water, there was silence. She walked in the direction of the sound to find a wide stream running through the woodland, its water tumbling over rocks, and its mossy banks dipped gently, easily accessible. Kate felt a bit like Bear Grylls all of a sudden and knelt, putting down her notebook and pen and dipping her hands into the cold water. There was Bear Grylls and then there was idiocy, so she sniffed the water dubiously. It smelt fine and, parched, she drank it. It didn’t taste odd so she cupped her hands into the water again, feeling rather proud of herself at the same time.
‘So you can take the city out of the girl,’ James said from behind her. Still crouching, Kate whipped her head round. He smiled and there was a flicker of a handsome man hiding underneath his sullen exterior. And then the smile left his face and frown lines returned as if he’d just remembered he was waging his own private war against her. His Labrador bounded up to Kate, gave her a nudge with his nose and then turned his attentions to the river and began drinking.
‘Sometimes,’ Kate replied with a small smile, drying her hands on her jeans before retrieving her pad and pen as she stood. ‘Where did you come from?’ She glanced around. He’d not been following her haphazard route on foot; of that she was sure.
He gestured over his shoulder. ‘I drove round. I just knew you’d get lost.’
‘Not that lost,’ Kate countered. ‘You found me.’
‘Not easily. I’ve been in these woods for about twenty minutes. And you’re about ten minutes’ walk from the cottage. In the wrong direction.’
‘Oh,’ she said quietly.
‘I did try and tell you,’ James said.
They stood and looked at each other. He was obviously a man who had to have the last word and Kate wasn’t in the mood for a fight.
‘What’s your dog’s name?’ She changed the subject.
James smiled. ‘Whisky. I didn’t name him. He was my dad’s dog. He’s just sort of become mine since Dad died.’
‘Good name,’ Kate said. ‘Appropriate, given we’re probably surrounded by distilleries.’
‘True. Although depending on the mood he was in, it was often difficult to tell if Dad was yelling for someone to bring him a stiff drink or if he was summoning the dog for a walk.’ James looked wistful and as he smiled there was a hint of mellowness in his eyes. He was almost pleasant when he let his defensive barriers down.
‘Shall we look at the cottage then?’ Kate suggested.
‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ James replied as he turned. She followed him. ‘It’s not been lived in since before the war. The house hasn’t had a ghillie since then, so it’s fallen into disrepair. I’m in the process of doing it up. I want to get it ready to let, then that’s one thing ticked off the never-ending list of jobs. We’ll get some incoming cash and it can help fund us while we sort the main house and whatever else we intend to do.’
Kate nodded. ‘That actually sounds like a good idea,’ she confessed.
‘Actually?’ James queried. ‘You weren’t expecting me to have come up with a decent plan myself?’
She sighed. It was disappointing how quickly he reverted back to defensive. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Anyway,’ he continued as they trampled through the thick undergrowth, snapping twigs and dodging nettles as they trod. ‘As the main house started to fall away, so did the ghillie’s cottage. After the war, there weren’t