Highland Fling Episode 26

They walked down the hill and through the trees. The air smelled of crushed pine cones and where they could see flashes of the burn, it was swollen into a torrent. Bunches of twigs – detritus of the storm – clung to the bank.

“You said you liked staying down here,” Mirabelle said.

“The main house is fancier, but it was fun – Nina and I living in a cottage in the woods. Like a fairytale. And that funny bath in the hut outside.”

“Yes, I wondered about that.” “There was something great about it. Like camping. One evening I left the door open so I could see the stars. Then every day we’d tramp down to the village to fetch supplies. They make this bread – bannock, they call it. It’s good. Truth is, it’s the most time I’d spent with Nina in ages.”

“Didn’t you spend time together at home?”

“She was always working and I have my friends.”

“I had the impression you were close.” “We are! We were. God, just walking down here is giving me goosebumps.” “You said Nina didn’t like the lodge?” “She would have preferred to stay in the big house.”

“That’s our fault, I’m afraid. Eleanor had this idea that we should be on our own up there, like a proper family.”

Tash shrugged. “I guess we got to stay alone – like a proper family too.”

The lodge remained unlocked. The two leather suitcases from the wardrobe had been packed and lay in the tiny hallway. Tash stood frozen on the threshold. Mirabelle gave her a moment and then touched the girl’s arm. “All right?”

“We were talking right here, you know, Nina and I, that last evening, sitting in those chairs. We had a discussion about what to do if the bomb dropped. I mean,” she rolled her eyes, “what can you do, right? I said I’d go out, into the fields and watch it coming and Nina just said, ‘God, I can’t imagine dying in this hole.’ And in the end she did, of course. Not right here, but not in New York. She would have wanted to go in New York. In the Stork Club. Wearing a marvellous frock.”

Mirabelle squeezed Tash’s forearm. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I guess all we can do now is clear up. Gillies said she’d have Susan see to Nina’s things,” she said. “She’s a very good servant, isn’t she?”

“And your books?” The bed had been stripped and the bedding removed. The bedside cabinets lay bare, the drawers open. The police had been here, Mirabelle thought. They’d searched the place. Of course they had.

“I suppose they’re airing everything,” Tash said. “Oh lord. Susan must have packed my books with Nina’s stuff. Let’s leave it. It seems gruesome to sort through her things.”

“Why don’t you check the hut?” “The books won’t be there.” “Check all the same.”

As Tash wandered through the cottage, Mirabelle retrieved the notebook she’d hidden the day before. Then she clicked open the suitcases. Tash’s books were on top. Expertly, she removed them and checked the rest of the case, running her hands down the side. Then, quickly, she tried to shift the tiny lock on Nina’s notebook with no success, until, hearing Tash coming back, she tucked it inside and clicked the case closed again. This would at least get it back to the house. She could retrieve it another time. “Here,” she said, handing Tash the novels. “Someone will come and get the rest of it, I’m sure.”

“Thanks. You’re a honey. Let’s get out of here, shall we?” The girl gave a little shiver, her eyes misty.

They walked back up the hill. The grass was slippery after the storm, the bloated mud swelling through the green. On the other side of the glen the sky was clearing and a long patch of blue had appeared. Mirabelle found herself unexpectedly out of breath as she climbed towards the house. At the top, Tash turned to take in the view.

“I won’t go down there again,” she said.

A rebel, a love match

Eleanor sat alone at the table with The Times propped against a pair of Georgian silver candlesticks when they returned. “I wondered what had happened to you two. I feel we need to keep tabs on everyone for safety. We rang the gong for ages. Then the constable said you had gone for a walk. I said to Gillies that at least you were together. I’m glad you’re back. We might as well cheer up this rotten day,” she said and headed for the drinks cabinet and the silver cocktail shaker.

Tash downed a Martini in one. Eleanor laughed. “That was obviously required,” she said. “I know I promised you a trip to the cashmere mill, Mirabelle, but it’s not on today, is it? Not now.”

“We can go another time.”

“I want to come,” Tash said firmly. “I need to finalise Nina’s order. We can’t let the boutiques down.”

Eleanor put her arm round Tash and gave her a squeeze. “You’re such a good girl,” she said, as if she was speaking to a puppy. Then she handed her another Martini. After the second glass, Tash disappeared down the hall in search of the lavatory.

“Feeling any better?” Eleanor asked. Mirabelle toyed with the stem of her glass. She was grateful for Eleanor’s discretion in not discussing what had happened in front of Tash.

“I keep going back to conversations we’ve had, or things he’s done and seeing it in the light of this,” she admitted. “I know it”s silly – I mean, look what Tash is going through.”

“Not at all. If there’s anything I can do...” “I feel as if I hardly know him. Apart from anything else, I always thought he was a city boy.”

“Oh, he is. Alan wasn’t brought up out here – Deidre, his mother, was. She was the eldest by a year, I think, though daughters don’t inherit in families like these. I don’t approve. She must have been spunky. She married against her father”s will.

“Mcgregor’s father, Thomas, came to survey the bridge over the burn and ran away with the laird’s daughter. I suppose the family would have seen it as marrying beneath her, though who on earth a girl brought up in the middle of nowhere was supposed to marry, I’m not sure. Anyway, it was a love match – must have been.”

Mirabelle retrieved the notebook she’d hidden the day before. Then she clicked open the suitcases...

Copyright © Sara Sheridan 2020, extracted from Highland Fling, published by Constable, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group, at £8.99