But it’s a big decision, and not one to be taken lightly. It’s a huge commitment

Number 1 Jetty Street was a substantial Victorian edifice. Built in the Scots baronial style, it featured turrets and crenellations and several large, double-bay windows to the front. Stone pillars marked the entrance to the drive, which swept up the side of the house to the garage, once the stable block.

A first-floor balcony with a sandstone balustrade provided panoramic views.

It had clearly once been home to a man of substance, but now had a neglected air.

The garden was overgrown and unkempt, the roof and guttering in need of repair.

Inside, the only light came from the curtainless window of what had once been the drawing-room.

“Dad, you know I have complete faith in your business acumen.

“But with this one I think you might have bitten off more than you can chew.”

Callum Buxton’s voice echoed around the large empty room.

“This thing will cost an arm and a leg to renovate. It must have about 30 rooms! Who’s going to buy it once you’ve done it up?

“I doubt there’s that kind of money around here. “Which brings me to my next question. Since when are you in the property game, and why this little backwater?”

Athletic

Callum’s father turned from the window to face him. Despite being in his 50s, Tony Buxton cut an impressively athletic figure.

The craggy good looks which Callum had been grateful to inherit still had a youthful sheen.

Callum hoped he would look as good at his dad’s age.

“So many questions! There is method in my madness. Did you doubt I’d have a master plan?”

Callum laughed. His father was the most driven man he knew, succeeding in every field he entered with ambition, a prodigious work ethic and a knack for getting his own way.

“OK, impress me,” Callum said with a grin, feeling that sense of anticipation he always did at the start of a new venture, where financial risk was all part of the excitement.

It would be a risk for him, too, since Dad insisted he pay his own way.

“No silver spoon for you, my lad. You’ll graft for everything you get, like I did.

“We can accumulate together, but you’ll speculate with your own cash.

“I won’t always be around, so you need to learn to stand on your own two feet.”

Callum found that difficult to believe. His father was like a force of nature.

“I should have known you had a cunning plan,” he grinned. “Well, I’m all ears. Tell me all about Project Muir Ferry.”

Evolution

“Look at those, Gordy!”

Rory was sitting on the sea wall with Rhona’s brother.

The tide was well out, exposing jagged rocks clad in a shaggy overcoat of emerald-green seaweed.

A group of gulls were wheeling up into the air and swooping down again.

“They’re opening a ready meal.”

Gordy peered at the birds as they continued to wheel and swoop.

“Ready meal?”

“Shellfish – mussels, razor clams, you name it. They drop them from a height on to the rocks to smash the shells, in order to get at the meat inside.”

“How did they learn?”

“Over a few million years of evolution you’re bound to pick up some hints. Nature is amazing.”

“I know you think so. Did you always want to be a marine biologist?”

Rory shrugged.

“Well, I’ve always been fascinated by wildlife, and coming from a seaside town like Muir Ferry, I suppose it was inevitable.”

“I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life,” Gordy said wistfully.

“I’ve no idea. Well, I do know I want to volunteer for the lifeboat. And I can, as soon as I’m 18.”

“You can indeed,” Rory said, careful not to betray the fact that Rhona had already confided Gordy’s ambitions to him.

“And there’ll be a vacancy coming up, what with Murdo retiring soon.”

“That’s also true. But it’s a big decision, and not one to be taken lightly. It’s a huge commitment.

“You need to be prepared to drop everything at a moment’s notice. You’ll be on call for long hours. “No drinking in the pub with your mates.” Rory grinned.

“Do you fancy getting dragged out of your bed at 4am on a Saturday to answer a ‘shout’?

“Then there’s the training. You’ll need to be committed. And disciplined.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Rory added, “it’s hugely rewarding, but I want to make sure that you know what’s involved.”

Gordy’s face had taken on a stubborn look.

“My grandad was coxswain, just like you. I want to follow in his footsteps, maybe even take over from you one day.

“Anyway,” he countered, “you’ve no choice but to let me join.

“After all, you’re going to be my brother-in-law one of these days.”

“Aye, if I’m lucky,” Rory replied, taken aback. “Or if Rhona’s daft enough to take me on.”

“You’re made for each other. Even I can see that.” Rory shifted.

“That’s beside the point. You need to think things through before putting in your application.

“Talk to Rhona about what it’s really like to volunteer. And discuss it with your mum.” Gordy dropped his gaze.

“She’ll go ballistic. She trusts Rhona, but she thinks I’m still a wee boy.

“She’ll worry that history might repeat itself . . .” “All the more reason to talk to her, then. And that’s an order.

Favourable

“Mind, if you join up I’ll be your boss, and I run a very tight ship!”

Gordy drew him a look.

“No favourable treatment dished out for prospective family?”

“No favourable treatment dished out to anyone.” The lad was only teasing him, Rory knew, but the truth was, these days Rory had become less sure of Rhona’s feelings.

He’d assumed they would marry . . . eventually. He’d thought she felt the same, though he wasn’t sure they’d ever discussed it.

Was she waiting for him to make the first move? “Look!” Gordy was pointing out beyond the harbour wall.

“A seal. I bet you know what kind it is.”

With relief, Rory turned his mind from the problems of romance to something much more predictable.

He launched into a long and detailed explanation of the movements and feeding habits of the seals who inhabited this section of the east coast.

“On this subject, at least, he was on sure ground.

More tomorrow.