Where Have All the Boys Gone? (11 page)

‘Actually, I thought we’d have this dinner because I have to tell you…Darling, I’ve been sleeping with the nanny, and I want a divorce. Please don’t make a scene now.’

She grinned and they finally started to relax. She told him about Mrs McClockerty’s latest act of evil and he agreed vehemently, nodding through a mouthful of dauphinoise potatoes and red vinegar cabbage.

‘The thing is,’ said Katie, when she’d finished her diatribe, ‘um, why does that woman keep looking in here? It’s like being around at your mum’s.’

Iain smiled. ‘Margaret’s the
waitress,
Katie. Just because it looks like a house doesn’t mean she’s my mother.’

‘No.’

‘Plus, she wants to measure you up against all the other women I bring here on a regular basis.’

‘I
knew
it,’ said Katie, and threw her napkin at him. ‘You’re the town Lothario.’

At this, Iain laughed for longer than was necessary or indeed polite.

‘What?’ said Katie, feeling uncomfortable. If he was gay and just being friendly, something was very very wrong with her gaydar. Maybe that was it – she’d been so long out of the game she’d lost the knack completely. She was going to turn into one of those old ladies who develop impossible pashes for the local vicar and make exhibitions of themselves.

‘What?’
she asked again, as Iain continued to laugh uncontrollably.

‘Sorry,’ said Iain. ‘I started laughing, then realised that
it was embarrassing rather than funny but still couldn’t stop somehow.’

‘WHAT?’

‘You do know about Fairlish, don’t you?’

‘I know it gets very damp in the evenings,’ said Katie, eyes narrowing and wondering just what the hell was going on here.

‘We’re the town with the highest number of blokes in the UK. To women, I mean. The ratio’s about 16:1 I think.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘I’m not, I can assure you. We’re statistically unique.’

And then it all suddenly clicked into place. Katie thought about how few women she’d actually come across so far in Fairlish. Barely none, although Mrs McClockerty had certainly made her presence felt. But practically everyone else, in every shop, pub or office, had been a chap. No wonder Derek liked to be called an executive assistant.

‘How come?’ she asked.

‘Well, between the farms, the fishery, the port, the Forestry Commission, the technology centre outside Muchlan, the research institute, the helicopter base and those secret submarines in the loch nobody’s supposed to know about, it’s just mostly chaps working up here.’

‘I met a young girl…Kelpie.’

‘Ah, the head of the coven,’ said Iain, tucking into his pudding. ‘Friendly, was she?’

‘She and her gang shouted at me in the street, if that’s what you mean.’

He smiled. ‘Side effect from living in this town. I believe they may be suffering from, er, high self-esteem.’

‘I’ve never seen that in a woman before,’ said Katie wonderingly. ‘Well, they’ll be suffering from a good crotch
kicking if me and Louise get our hands on them,’ realising this was an idle threat even as she was saying it.

‘Rather you than me, that’s for sure.’

‘So why do you stay if there’s such a dearth of women on offer?’ asked Katie, between delectable mouthfuls. She’d thought she was too full for pudding, but now realised she wasn’t, and actually whatever this crunchy raspberry stuff was, it was going down incredibly easily.

Iain shrugged. ‘Grew up here. Like it. Run my own ship, that kind of stuff.’

‘Don’t you get lonely?’

He fixed her with an unambiguous look.

‘Sometimes.’

It’s so nice to be driven by a good driver, Katie was thinking muzzily, drifting off in the comfortable front seat of the car. She really shouldn’t have accepted that delicious whisky liqueur Margaret had pressed on her…but it was rude to refuse really. Now, she was sure there was something she had thought about bringing up with Iain…something about trees, something really important…she felt her eyes droop as she caught a flash of a tail in the hedgerow.

Iain cut his eyes sideways from the road. She looked different when she was asleep; her snarky look disappeared completely.

Later, outside Mrs McClockerty’s, he had to shake her gently to wake her up. She came to with an undignified snort.

‘Oh God, was I dribbling?’

‘No,’ replied Iain slowly.

‘Oh, thank God.’

‘You muttered something about having sex with a goat though.’

Katie stretched her legs and got out of the car. Iain left the lights on to show the pathway to the house, and got out too. They both moved around to the front of the car, and stood, illuminated.

‘Uh, thanks,’ said Katie, rubbing her mouth nervously. ‘Thank you for a lovely night.’

‘Not at all,’ said Iain. ‘It was…um…any time. Well, not any time because it’s always booked up, but thanks for not making me have dinner with Craig the Vet. He’s nice, but he spits.’ Aware that he was talking too much, he bit his lip.

‘OK then,’ said Katie, and looked at him. Caught in the car headlights, his green eyes flashed at her, nervous, but full of excitement and mischief. She stepped towards him, and then he, gently and carefully, checking her face to make sure what he was about to do was all right, took her face in his hands. In the next moment they were kissing.

It felt so good to be held again. Katie literally could have swooned. His mouth – soft and hard at the same time; his long body and strong arms holding her tightly against him made her giddy.

‘Oh God,’ he groaned, when they came up for air. ‘Sorry, it’s just…it’s been a while. I mean…’

Katie smiled to herself and wondered what had happened to the self-contained character who had swept her off to dinner. Then she melted into him again.

‘GAH!’ came a voice from behind them. Instinctively, they leaped apart, though their hands found each other soon after.

‘Sorry!’ said Louise, lurching up the path. ‘I meant to creep silently by and leave you some privacy, but then I accidentally shouted out “gah”.’

‘That’s all right,’ muttered Katie, embarrassed.

‘Bloody hell, but I had a great night. You’d almost think the men here hadn’t seen a woman in months.’

‘Well…’

Iain looked at Katie and smiled. ‘I think I’d better go,’ he said, opening the car door. ‘Mrs McClockerty might come out, and she does have a rather dampening effect on ardour.’

‘And toast,’ added Louise helpfully.

‘Come on, let’s go try and save tomorrow’s pieces,’ said Katie, putting her arm around her friend’s shoulders as the car pulled away. ‘By the way, did you tell Craig the Vet he was on a promise?’

‘Yeah yeah yeah,’ said Louise. ‘Craig the Vet thinks he has the local sheep on a promise, horny old devil. Believe it or not, I don’t particularly feel like sleeping with anyone at the moment.’

She stuck her tongue out at Katie’s astonished look.

‘Far
too busy being the femme fatale of a generation.’

‘Boy, am I glad we didn’t waste money sending you into therapy,’ whispered Katie as they crept up to their attic room.

Settling down to sleep, it felt almost comforting to hear the rain starting up, bouncing loudly off the old eaves.

Three days later, the rain finally stopped.

‘Let’s go for a walk,’ said Louise to Katie after work.

Katie looked at her. ‘What?’ she said.

Louise looked embarrassed. ‘You know…that thing you do where you put one foot in front of another and stuff.’

‘You know this isn’t one of those northern towns they’ve built a Harvey Nichols outpost in, right?’ said Katie.

Louise nodded.

‘How long have we known each other?’ said Katie.

‘Ten years?’

‘Have we ever just gone for a walk?’

‘There was that time we strolled past the lido trying to catch the lifeguard’s eye.’

‘I’m not sure that counts.’

‘Well, no then.’

The two girls looked at each other.

‘This better get me foxy-looking rosy cheeks,’ grumbled Katie, lacing up her boots.

Louise had been out exploring the area – and the men – quite a lot, so had quite an appreciation of the local charms and was eager to sample them once more, whereas Katie had been stuck in a deadlock with Harry over how to go about the project for days now. Yesterday, she’d seen the planning report – the developers wanted a big golf course all right, plus a clubhouse, a bar, a hotel and a new road cutting straight through the forest that was, quote, ‘wide enough for 4x4s’.

‘Yuk,’ she’d said.

‘It’s worse than yuk,’ Harry had replied.

‘What about getting the local MP onside?’

Harry had snorted. ‘He’d sell his own grandmother for a lift in a Jaguar. I’m afraid,’ Harry had continued, ‘we’re on our own.’

Katie had looked at him. ‘You have to let me do my job, you know, the proper way. The noisy way.’

‘Yes, yes.’

‘We’ve got to get out there and start shouting our heads off.’

‘Read the papers again,’ Harry had answered. ‘There must be a quieter way.’

Katie and Louise walked out past the boats on the shore and up onto the headland, following an old, ploughed-over track.

‘You almost look like you’re having a good time,’ said Katie sternly, watching Louise swinging her arms enthusiastically.

Louise looked at her. ‘I know,’ she said, suddenly serious. She turned around, indicating the glorious view out to the Western Isles.

‘This…I think this has been really…I think it’s quite good for me up here. Given me room to think.’

Katie nodded silently. It had taken Louise a long time even to get to the point where she could talk about the Max situation, and Katie hadn’t been convinced that she was making much progress back home, especially if her choice in one-night stands was anything to go by, yet here she seemed content, almost happy.

‘I’m sorry,’ Louise blurted out.

‘What do you mean?’

Louise looked awkward. ‘I think I…you know, kind of blamed you for what your sister did.’

‘That’s OK,’ said Katie.

‘No, I just…I’ve been a bit of a pain in the arse.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Katie. ‘It’s been very entertaining watching you…no, I don’t mean that. I mean, I’m sorry too. I really am. And I’m sorry there’s not more I could have done.’

‘You took me in,’ said Louise, biting her lip. ‘And I dragged a lot of pond life in my wake.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Katie. ‘In fact, you gave me hope. That a sex life was still possible for the single London almost-thirtysomething female.’

Louise made a face, remembering some of her less desirable conquests. ‘Well, that’s over.’ She looked around again at the amazing landscape. ‘I think I’m getting better.’

Katie smiled at her. ‘Must be something in the water.’

‘Oy! YOUSE!’

Turning back from the headland, the girls were shocked to see a bent-over figure, carrying a stick, marching towards them.

‘Get off!’

‘Who’s that?’ said Katie.

Louise shrugged.

The figure waved his stick at them.

‘Is he going to hit us with that stick?’ asked Louise,
preparing to run. ‘Maybe he’s a crazed hermit and we’re encroaching on his land.’

‘He looks a bit doddery for whupping us,’ said Katie, as the slightly feeble figure got closer. ‘In fact, if he threatens violence, just kick his stick away. He’ll probably go right over the cliff.’

‘You’re quite scary,’ Louise said to Katie. ‘HELLO?’ she cried out to the figure.

The old man wobbled up to them. He was craggy, with white whiskers, and was wearing a tweed jacket that looked as though it had already been nibbled on by ten cows.

‘You’re on mah land,’ he said, sternly.

Katie looked at Louise questioningly.

‘We’re on the cliff path!’ said Louise. ‘And we’ve got…’ she grabbed the concept out of thin air, thinking of what she’d read in
Heat
about Madonna ‘…rambler’s rights.’

The old man looked around. ‘Och aye,’ he said. ‘Bugger.’

He stepped closer and looked them both up and down. ‘Are you those two new lassies in town?’

Katie smiled widely to show willing in case he was more dangerous than he looked. ‘Yes we are!’ she said brightly.

‘Here to sort out that poor Buchan boy,’ said the man. ‘Guid.’

He turned around as if to stomp off, then turned back. ‘Aren’t you comin’ then?’

‘Sorry,’ said Louise. ‘Who are you?’

He stared at them as if he’d never been asked this question before, and indeed he probably hadn’t.

‘Who am I?’ he asked incredulously. Then he straightened up. ‘Laird Kennedy,’ he said. ‘Now would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I think this is the point where my marrying a laird and living in a castle fantasies are about to hit the wall,’ said Louise as they followed the old man, who’d been joined by a mangy Labrador, down a narrow path through a hollow.

‘On the other hand…’ she said, stopping short as the view opened up ahead of them. It was less of a castle, more of a manor house, in grey brick, but silhouetted against the sea ahead, just around the curve of the coastline. It was magnificent. It had dozens of forbidding-looking windows on two floors, and wide steps leading up to the entrance.

As they drew closer, however, the building revealed itself to be in a desperate state of disrepair. Paint was peeling off the window ledges, and water was dripping down the eaves. Tiles were missing from the roof, and the big front door badly need repainting. Up close, in fact, the house looked quite scary, like something out of
Scooby Doo.

‘Come in,’ said the Laird, taking them around the back and through a large kitchen with Formica units and an old-fashioned cooker that had undoubtedly seen better days. ‘Sorry about the mess,’ he added, looking around as if he was as surprised as they were. ‘My housekeeping staff…’ he trailed off for a moment. ‘Well, anyway, they’re all dead. Tea?’

Katie and Louise looked at each other, unsure whether to brave consuming anything in such a place. But then again, they ate at Mrs McClockerty’s every morning.

‘Sure,’ said Louise.

‘Just water for me,’ said Katie, at the same instant.

Kennedy lowered his eyebrows at her. ‘Nonsense. Have some tea.’

He ushered them through the door and started clattering
about looking for mugs. Katie caught a glimpse of a dusty cupboard almost entirely filled with cans of baked beans and spaghetti hoops.

The hall outside was absolutely massive, with a huge, not entirely safe-looking three-sided wooden staircase winding up to the second floor. A large grandfather clock stood solemnly next to the banisters.

‘God, look at this place,’ said Louise. ‘Don’t you think it would make just the most fabulous spa?’

‘Have some respect,’ said Katie. The tumbledown mansion made her oddly melancholy for some reason.

‘I respect spas,’ said Louise. ‘Where do you think we’re meant to go?’

There were several large oak doors leading off the hallway.

‘Well, which one do you think is least likely to have the corpse behind it?’ said Katie, not entirely joking. The only light coming in was from the windows upstairs, which, unsurprisingly, were none too clean.

Louise stepped bravely forward and pushed at the biggest, a large double door with an elaborate coving on top of it. It creaked.

‘I’ve been on this ride at Alton Towers,’ said Louise.

Katie crept up behind her and held on to her arm. Both of them were pretending not to be frightened.

‘Better push it harder,’ said Katie.

‘You do it,’ said Louise. ‘Once upon a time there were two girls lost in the middle of nowhere who accepted a drink from a strange man…and they were never seen again.’

‘Stop being daft,’ said Katie nervously. She shoved at the door.

The door creaked even louder this time, and slowly opened. Both of them leaned in, wide-eyed.

The room that greeted them was huge, with a dirty wooden floor, filthy old chandeliers and windows, so mucky you could hardly see through them, running the full length of the room. There was no furniture in it at all.

‘My God,’ said Louise.

‘It’s a ballroom,’ breathed Katie, completely enchanted.

‘Just
think
what this would be worth in Kensington,’ said Louise. ‘Can you spell a gajillion dollars?’

But Katie was already walking into the huge room, bewitched. Although it was as dusty and abandoned as Miss Havisham’s party, she could sense the past here; grand nights of dancing and flirtations; silk fans and punch and huge billowing skirts. She realised she was recreating various Jane Austen mini-series in her head, and the reality up in the remote Highlands was probably rather different, but she couldn’t help live the fantasy just for a moment as she advanced further in, imagining herself filling a dance card, whatever that was, and doing curtseys. Or, she told herself sternly, slotting back on her business head, perhaps an ideal place to hold a fundraising event for the forest. Mind you, it looked like this house needed a benefit more than they did.

She felt herself drawn to the windows. Outside, the lawn was growing wild, although it looked like somebody was having a manful stab at it every now and then, with mixed results. Mist was curling in from the sea, entwining in the trees at the bottom of the garden. It was rather eerie. But hang on a minute, was that a croquet hoop?

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!’ she screamed.

‘What is it!’ Louise dropped her handbag and rushed over.

‘A face! A face at the window!’ yelped Katie, her heart thumping so hard it was difficult to catch her breath. Louise looked up. Through the filthy windows it was just possible to make out a very shocked-looking face.

‘LAIRD KENNEDY!’ squealed Louise, although he was already at the door.

‘What on earth was that noise?’ said the Laird. ‘I thought I had a pig in labour.’

Swallowing hard, Louise stepped towards the window, holding Katie’s hand. Katie was shaking violently – and the face had disappeared.

‘He’s gone!’ said Katie.

‘Well, that’s that settled then,’ said the Laird. ‘Tea? In the sitting room I think – it’s a bit draughty in here.’

‘But…there was a man…a man…’

‘Och, there’s people up around about all the time,’ said Kennedy. ‘They think the place is deserted. Can’t think why.’ He turned around.

Katie looked at Louise. Then they all heard a clattering at the back of the house.

‘It’s my mugger,’ said Katie. ‘He’s come up from London, not satisfied with frightening the crap out of me down there.’ She was scared out of her wits.

‘HELLO!’ shouted the Laird.

‘KENNEDY,’ a voice shouted back. ‘I just got the most bollocking fright!’

The girls turned around, as a very pale Iain lurched into the room.

‘Good God, you two,’ he gasped. Then he leaned on the doorframe and smiled weakly. ‘I’m an idiot.’

Katie’s heart nearly dribbled out of her feet with relief – and lust. ‘That was
you,’
she said.

‘God, yeah,’ he said. ‘Jings. I was just coming up to have a word with Jock about trying to screw Har…
never mind. And I thought I saw a woman kind of dancing about.’

‘I was
not
dancing about!’ said Katie. ‘Well, not consciously.’

‘And I thought, that can’t be right…no women around here, so I came for a look, and then a banshee kind of started screaming…’

‘Did you think we were ghosts?’ asked Louise, looking amused.

‘No,’ said Iain quickly.

‘Why are you so white in the face then?’

‘Well, look at Katie, she’s shaking.’

‘I’ll go get the tea,’ said Kennedy.

‘I’ll help,’ said Louise quickly.

Iain and Katie looked at each other when they were alone.

‘Sorry,’ said Katie. ‘I got…I got mugged in London. A while back. I scare easily.’

‘I’ll say,’ said Iain. ‘But I’m sorry to hear about that.’

‘Hey,’ said Katie. ‘He didn’t hurt me. Just made me susceptible to weirdo stalkers that creep up through the undergrowth.’

‘Oh yeah, I meant to mention. Most girls I date like to take out the restraining order pretty much straight away.’

Katie swallowed hard. So were they dating now? ‘What are you really doing here, anyway?’

‘Jock wants me to take some photographs. He’s thinking of advertising in a lonely hearts mag, and thinks photos of his house might go down better than him.’

‘He’s got a point,’ said Katie, as they made their way to the room next door, which was a smaller, but still gigantic, sitting room, and this time shabbily furnished.
A fire was burning in the grate, and Louise was pouring out tea while sitting in a high-backed floral armchair.

‘You look quite the lady of the manor,’ said Katie, taking a place on a sofa that still had antimacassars.

Laird Kennedy’s ears pricked up. ‘Are you looking for a husband?’ he asked expectantly.

‘Quite the opposite,’ said Louise. ‘I’m just beginning to enjoy the young, free and single life. But I’m sure there are about a million gorgeous girls in London who would jump at the chance.’

Katie nodded enthusiastically.

‘They need to be rich though,’ said the Laird. ‘I need a bunch of money for this place.’

‘Oh well, I wouldn’t have been any help to you anyway,’ said Louise.

The Laird sighed.

‘I’m telling you,’ said Iain. ‘We’ll concentrate on the American divorcee market. It’s the one to go for.’