Highland Fling (3 page)

Jack stared up at the sky and blinked away the snowflakes as they landed on his eyelashes. The cool wet particles made his face tingle. He closed his eyes and licked his lips, tasting icy water. He could feel the cold, fresh air hitting his lungs and he sucked in a mouthful.

‘We do have rooms, sir. You don’t have to sleep on the platform.’

He opened his eyes and blinked several times. Smiling down at him as if he were a naughty child, was a beautiful brunette. He thought for a moment he was dreaming but he could hear his friends laughing and, as he realised where he was, he sat bolt upright.

‘Oh shit!’ he said, suddenly feeling sober, ‘I fell in the snow.’

‘So I see. I’m Lizzie,’ the beautiful brunette said ‘and ... is this your fiancée?’

He blinked again. She was staring at something beside him. He looked down and saw, to his horror, the inflatable doll, still clasped tightly in his grip. Without thinking, he let it go just as a gust of wind caught it and blew it down the platform.

‘We’d better get that before it reaches the village,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’ll cause a riot.’ She chased the doll but every time she got near it, another gust whipped it away.

Jack staggered after her, slipping and sliding in the snow, in his black leather brogues, arms flailing in his slate grey suit.

‘Jack! You shouldn’t be chasing women,’ Phil yelled, ‘especially inflatable ones!’

‘Jesus. I ain’t seen anything so funny in years.’ Pete roared with laughter holding his stomach as if it hurt.

Lizzie reached for the doll and managed to grab its leg just as another gust was about to take it. The doll hung in the air with Lizzie trying to maintain her balance on the slippery surface when Jack careered into her, knocking them all to the ground where they ended in a heap, Jack on top of Lizzie, Lizzie on top of the doll.

Hoots of laughter rang out from the others.

‘Not in a public place!’ Pete shouted, accompanied by loud cheers.

It took Lizzie and Jack a few seconds to realise what had happened and regain their breath.

‘Are you okay?’ Jack asked, genuinely concerned.

‘I’d be better if you weren’t lying on me.’

‘Oh! Sorry.’ He placed his hands either side of her body to push himself up but as he did so the doll burst with a loud bang making Lizzie scream.

Instinctively, he threw his arms around her, pulling her away and rolling her over so they ended up as they had been but without the doll. Lizzie on the ground, Jack on top of her, staring into each other’s eyes, so close that their lips were almost touching.

Jack felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He parted his lips, all thoughts except one gone from him, then the whoops of laughter, further up the platform brought him back to reality and he quickly rolled himself to a sitting position next to her.

The doll deflated with loud fart-like noises and Lizzie burst out laughing, breaking the tension of an awkward moment.

Jack scrambled to his feet and held out his hand to help her up, avoiding eye contact. Once they both got their footings he brushed clumps of snow from his suit.

 ‘Not exactly dressed for this weather,’ he said, a faint smile hovering on his perfectly shaped mouth as he bent down to pick up the deflated doll.

‘I’ve got a puncture repair kit at the house,’ Lizzie said unable to stop herself, ‘we may be able to save her.’

Jack’s eyes shot to her face and he saw the laughter there. ‘Thanks’, he said, ‘we’re very close. I couldn’t bear to lose her.’

‘I felt that way about my husband at first,’ Lizzie said, but she had no idea why.

‘I can’t believe the weather,’ Jack said in a feeble attempt to make conversation once they were in the Land Rovers on the way to Laurellei Farm. Ross, Phil and Jack were with Lizzie leaving Pete, Jeff and Steve with Jane.

‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’ Lizzie was thinking about what had happened at the station. She had an uneasy feeling that the man now sitting beside her, with chestnut brown hair and the deepest sapphire blue eyes she’d ever seen, had almost kissed her – and an even worse feeling, that she’d have let him.

‘The weather. I can’t believe it.’

‘Nor can I.’ Lizzie kept her eyes firmly on the road. ‘It’s been threatening all week but I didn’t think it would come, especially as it’s been so warm until a few days ago. I just hope we don’t get snowed in.’

‘Is there a chance we might?’ Jack’s eyes lit up at the thought of it.

‘It’s possible if we get as much as the weather report is saying we will.  Last year we were snowed in for three days over Christmas and ...’ she remembered last year and how Max had arrived unexpectedly, just before the snow and how – no, she mustn’t go there.

‘And ...’ Jack prompted.

‘Nothing,’ she said, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes.

He resembled her husband in a way but Max had blond, straight hair, always combed back from his model-smooth face, whilst Jack’s thick chestnut brown hair was cut short around his ears with just a hint of an unruly fringe to one side. They were both undeniably handsome but Jack had more of a rugged outdoors look, and Max’s eyes were green whereas Jack’s were a very definite deep blue.

They were about the same height, somewhere in the region of six feet and a similar build, although from what little she’d seen of Jack, he was slightly broader across the shoulders than Max. They both clearly liked expensive, quality clothing; Lizzie recognised bespoke tailoring when she saw it. And watches. The understated Omega Jack wore didn’t come much cheaper than Max’s rather flashy Rolex.

‘Any chance we could stop at an off-licence and get some booze in?’ Ross was asking from the back seat. ‘Don’t want to be snowed in without a few bottles of fizz and some beers, if that’s okay with you?

‘No need,’ Lizzie said, praying the pigs would survive, ‘there’s plenty in the house and I charge the same as you’d pay in the shop, plus, my neighbour makes a home brew and he brought over a few bottles the other day.’

‘No disrespect but I can’t stand home brew. Tastes like gnat’s piss. Ow! What d’ya thump me for?’

‘There’s a lady present,’ Phil said.

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve heard far worse and even said it. I used to work in the City.’

Jack turned to face her. ‘London you mean?’

‘Yes. Why are you so surprised?’

‘Um. Well. It just seems a long way from here, that’s all. What did you do?’

‘Not far enough sometimes,’ Lizzie said. ‘I was a solicitor.’

‘Yeah?’ Jack found himself wishing he’d met her then. ‘When? Why did you leave?’

 ‘Oh, sometimes it seems like a lifetime, but I only moved here just over two years ago. I ... I needed a complete change and Jane had moved up here the year before so it seemed like as good a place as any. It was supposed to be a ... a sort of sabbatical but Laurellei Farm came up for sale and, well, I just knew I had to buy it. Sounds silly I know but –’

‘No. It doesn’t sound silly at all. I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason. And your husband. Is he a farmer or something?’

Lizzie’s laugh sounded almost maniacal. ‘Or something,’ she said. ‘He wouldn’t know a sheep if one jumped up and bit him on the nose – and believe me – I have often wished one would. He’s in London. He works in the City.’

‘When do you see him then? Does he come all this way for the weekends?’ Jack sounded incredulous.

Lizzie was surprised. She rarely discussed her private life with anyone, let alone a complete – and very handsome – stranger. ‘I don’t, usually. We’re separated.’

‘But not divorced?’ Jack knew he shouldn’t pry but for some reason, he really wanted to know. He saw her hands tighten on the steering wheel and spotted the wedding band and a massive diamond solitaire sparkling up at him from her left hand. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed them before and the disappointment he felt took him completely by surprise.

‘No,’ she said after a while, ‘we’re not divorced.’

‘Sorry. I should mind my own business.’

‘Yeah Jack. Stop interrogating the lady,’ Ross said, still wondering what they were going to do about the alcohol situation. If he was going to get through this weekend he would need copious amounts of the stuff.

‘There’s the house,’ Lizzie said changing the subject.

Jack peered out of the window but kept glancing towards Lizzie. He’d seen how sad she’d looked when she’d talked about her husband and how her face had brightened when she’d pointed out the farmhouse.

What was her story, he wondered, and why did he care? He was getting married in two weeks to a girl he’d spent the last two years with. So, why had he held his breath waiting for a total stranger to tell him whether or not she was divorced and why had it irritated him so when he’d seen the rings, which had answered the question before she had?

And yet, she’d said they were separated and they lived hundreds of miles apart. He’d have to find out exactly what was going on between this woman and her far off husband before this weekend was over – even if he had no idea why it should affect him in the least.

The farmhouse was much larger than it looked from the road and was about a mile down a narrow lane which was bordered on one side by a row of trees, and surrounded by fields. There was a front lawn dissected by a gravel drive and a yard-come-parking area to the left, all of which were now covered with a layer of snow.

The house was built from local pink granite and had large double casement windows on the ground floor, two each side of an ancient oak door. Above, were four slightly smaller double casement windows and to the right of the house was an ancient barn, about half the size of the main house, which had obviously been converted into more living space.

‘It’s a really handsome house,’ Jack said as Lizzie pulled up outside the oak door.

She beamed at him and sighed deeply like a proud parent. She loved the place and was pleased that he’d called it handsome. It seemed appropriate.

Jack watched her as her eyes swept lovingly over the facade whilst his friends grabbed their bags from the back of the Land Rovers and Jane led them into the stone, lime washed hall.

‘Yes it is,’ Lizzie said. ‘It hadn’t been lived in for almost twenty years and needed a lot of work so it wasn’t quite as grand as it is now – and the barn was almost derelict, but I fell in love with it the moment I saw it and I knew I had to have it, no matter what the cost.’

Lizzie’s eyes met his briefly and he knew exactly how she had felt.

He grabbed his bag and watched her walk towards the house. She stopped in the doorway and smiled back at him.

‘Christ Jack,’ he said, his voice no more than a whisper, ‘pull yourself together, you’re engaged.’

Inside the house, the large hall had several doors on either side. Towards the back was a wide, wooden staircase leading up to the eight bedrooms with en suite bathrooms, four at the front, four at the back all opening from a long, solid oak-floored hallway.

The rooms were all the same size and similarly furnished, the only real difference being in the colour and the decoration and whether they were front or rear facing. None of the guys seemed bothered about this, so rooms were chosen as they walked along. Ross and Pete had the first two front rooms, Steve and Jeff the first two rear rooms then Phil had the next front and Jack, who had noticed the view was slightly better to the front, took the end front.

Each room was furnished with antiques; a double bed, an armchair and small table, dressing table and chair, wardrobe, a chest of drawers and two bedside cabinets. Each had a window-seat and matching curtains and bedding. One was pale blue, another was pale green, one had a toile de jouy theme, another a light coloured tartan, one had birds of paradise, another tiny spring flowers, one was a pale yellow and the last one, the one Jack had chosen, was a crewel work pattern in a deep, dark red and green on an ecru background.

Jack took a shower, which seemed to revive him, and then he unpacked. The drawers and wardrobes had the faintest smell of sandalwood and Jack assumed it must be from the wax used to polish them. It was a pleasant, soothing scent, used for centuries for its calming properties. Jack smiled wryly, perhaps it would work on him, he’d felt anything but calm since the moment he arrived at Kirkedenbright Falls station.

He dressed in black casual trousers, a black T-shirt and a light grey cashmere v-neck sweater. He pulled on a pair of black socks and checked that his shoes had dried out from the snow. He’d wear his boots when they ventured out later.

He took out his camera and strolled over to the window. Sitting down on the window-seat, he stared out at the acres of snow-covered fields and the copse beyond. It was like something from a Christmas card scene and he half expected to hear church bells ringing and carol singers to turn up at the door, even though it was March. The snow was easing now and the outline of the Cairngorm mountain range was visible in the distance. He could imagine the view from here on a bright, clear day and hoped he’d get a chance to see it.

He leant his head against the window frame and breathed on the pane, then with one finger, he doodled, his mind miles away until he heard Phil’s voice.

‘Jack. Oh! ... um ... we’re going downstairs. Jane says there are coffee and homemade biscuits in the sitting room.’

Jack wondered why Phil was looking at him oddly. ‘Okay, I’ll come down. Are you all right? You look like something’s up.’

Phil’s brows shot up. ‘I’m fine mate,’ he said, nodding towards the window then heading towards the stairs, ‘it’s you who’s got a problem.’

Jack glanced back at the window and jumped to his feet as if he’d been bitten by a poisonous snake. He’d drawn a huge, elaborate heart with a large and unmistakable ‘L’ inside it.

He wiped the glass with the sleeve of his jumper and watched the droplets of water trickling down the pane, his head spinning. What was happening to him? The last time he’d doodled a love heart to his recollection was when he was twelve and had a crush on his French teacher. Perhaps he was still drunk; they had a lot of champagne on the way up and quite a bit before they got on the train.