Where the Heart Belongs (4 page)

*   *   *

‘This is my personal assistant, Shona,' Jack said as he greeted his two elderly guests in the hall as she came down to join them.

He looked distinguished in his dinner jacket and she was glad she had put on her highest heels in honour of what she had been told was a special occasion.

But, oh horrors, in her haste she felt herself trip on the bottom step.

‘Oh, my dear,' the tallest of the two elderly men had said in concern while the other rushed to support her, muttering soothing words.

For an embarrassed moment she leant against him, her face glowing. ‘I'm sorry,' she gasped, regaining her balance. Glancing at Jack she saw him frown.

‘My dear, are you all right?' her rescuer asked.

‘Oh
thank you, yes, of course,' she stuttered. What a bad first impression of someone who was here to represent Jack Cullen with the public as well as his personal friends, she thought. Elegant and poised she was not.

‘Alfred Caruthers and his brother, James,' said Jack smoothly. ‘Important people at Ferniehope, my mentors you might say. I couldn't have accomplished half of what I have here if it wasn't for the support of these two.'

He ushered them all into his private sitting room and offered drinks.

Shona accepted a glass of sherry and turned to James Caruthers who had taken the seat next to hers. The scent of roast lamb wafted in from the adjoining dining room and the old man sniffed in appreciation.

‘Jack has the good sense to employ a first class cook,' he said. ‘Just as he has when employing all his staff. A discerning chap is Jack. I'm glad to meet you, my dear.'

After the meal neither guest would hear of Shona retiring to give them some private time with their host.

‘No, my dear young lady,' said Alfred Caruthers, his chair creaking as he settled himself comfortably. ‘It's not often that two old codgers like us talk to a pretty young lady. Is that not right, James?'

‘Indeed.'

Shona laughed, feeling herself blush. She gathered that they had known Jack a long time
because
they drifted off into reminiscences of when he had first discovered Ferniehope Castle. The place had been virtually a ruin then but Jack had seen the potential. Now, two years later, they were delighted with his achievements.

‘Take no notice of the exaggerations of these two,' said Jack, smiling at her. ‘Everyone has need of a fan club at some stage of their lives and that's what these two have been.'

James Caruthers shifted a little in his seat.

‘The poor old lady who owned the place had let it go for years before she died,' he said. ‘Her great nephew was difficult about the sale, I remember, and the legal side took a while to sort out. He accused Jack of all sort of perfidy. All nonsense, of course. The nephew's still bitter about it, I gather.'

Jack leaned back, looking supremely confident. ‘I can deal with any bad feeling on his part,' he said.

‘Don't be so sure of that, young man,' said Alfred. ‘But we'll back you up if we need to.'

The evening passed pleasantly and Shona retired to her luxurious apartment feeling pleased with her first day.

*   *   *

‘You'll find a print-out of the list of delegates on my desk,' said Jack, sticking his head round the breakfast room door as Shona was
finishing
her meal next morning.

‘Delegates?' she said.

‘That's what we call all the guests who book in here for whatever reason,' he said. ‘The members of the walking group in this case.'

‘I see.'

‘See to it, Shona, will you? I'll be away all day. Back at tea time.'

She scraped her chair back as she got up. ‘Of course.'

He smiled. ‘Your time is your own after that.'

He had gone by the time she thought to ask exactly what he meant her to do with the list. This morning he seemed distant and not a bit like the hospitable host of yesterday evening.

Ah well, she thought now, nothing for it but to find out for herself what she was supposed to do. Could this be some sort of initiative test? But no, she was certain that Jack Cullen wasn't the kind of person to set a trap like that. He was direct, straightforward. Blunt, even, sometimes. He had been kind, though, to his elderly friends, listening with patience to their rambling reminiscences.

She pushed open the office door and walked across to the desk in the window and found the list was where Jack had said it would be. She saw names down one side in a grid and across the top the names and numbers of rooms upstairs. Not too difficult to work out that her job was to match room numbers with
names.

She sat down in the swivel chair to study it, aware of the heady scent of grass cuttings floating in on the breeze from the open window. On the opposite wall was another window high up with a yellow orchid on the windowsill. Shona smiled to see it. Then she looked down at her notes again.

At last she looked up in frustration. Whoever thought these room names up must have been as crazy as she felt herself . . .
Shorter and Son, Pearly King, Pied Piper, Lord Mayor, Old King Cole, London Bobby, Big Ben, Mad Hatter . . .
all decidedly weird names for bedrooms.

She would have to go and investigate to check the ratio of single to double. They could all be single, of course, as this was a conference centre and not a luxury hotel, but she had better make sure.

On the first landing she tried the handle of the room labelled
Dombey and Son.
Locked of course, like the rooms on either side. She should have thought of that. Problems. Now what was she to do? No one was about downstairs. In fact the whole place had a feeling of emptiness about it.

She opened the front door and stood on the top step, considering. Not even the distant hum of a mowing machine filled the air, only some birdsong from the trees near the road. What would Jack expect her to do . . . just
allocate
the rooms willy-nilly? That could be fun but might have embarrassing consequences. A clue from the room names? Not really.
Pied Piper
could be a dormitory of bunk beds and
Jolly Jim
a room with an extra large mini bar. Or not.

She smiled, imagining the mistakes that could be made.

And how would she know if the men and women with the same surnames were even related to each other let alone married? There was the possibility here of messing things up big time. How Ingrid would love that!

She glanced once more at the trees at the bottom of the drive and saw the figure of a young girl flit furtively between them. Shona blinked and the girl was gone.

Returning to the office, she replaced the list on Jack's desk. Too bad it was Saturday and Ingrid wasn't at work. But her mother, Mags, would surely be in soon to see to lunch and could fill her in on what she wanted to know. Who better, really, to contact for help?

*   *   *

‘A young girl?' said Mags, reaching into the cupboard for the scales and placing them with a thump on the large wooden table in the centre of the room. ‘You saw her, you said?'

‘I thought I did,' said Shona. ‘A glimpse among the trees, that's all. I'll take a walk
around
when I've sorted the rooms unless you'd like some help here?'

‘Not me,' said Mags comfortably. ‘I'm getting some preparation done just now for the people coming in tomorrow.'

She looked as if she was set to enjoy herself for hours, her huge bulk clad in a long blue dress topped by a white apron. She seemed so much of part of the brightly cosy kitchen that Shona smiled.

‘Lunch'll be at one today,' said Mags, pausing in what she was doing. ‘So you've plenty of time to have a good look round at the rooms. Och, I'm surprised Ingrid hasn't allocated them all days ago. Jack will have expected her to have done it, I'm sure.'

Shona was surprised too, when she came to think of it. She took the master key to the rooms that Mags gave her and set off on a voyage of discovery. Mags had told her that although most of the rooms were single ones there was one double one on each floor.

‘The married couples have those,' Mags had said. ‘That'll be indicated on the booking forms.'

Which, of course, she hadn't got.

Checking the rooms took Shona longer than she had expected. Each one was decorated in different colours and she paused to admire the delicate water colour paintings that hung above each bed. The charming results of some of the painting courses, perhaps? Someone
had
taken a great deal of trouble with each room. Mags, probably. Lucky delegates staying in the place like this.

And of course she was lucky too.

Jack had told her to take a look around the area so when she had at last arranged the accommodation to the best of her ability, making a mental note to check that she had got it right about the double rooms, she went out into the fresh air of the morning determined to make the most of some free time. She hadn't seen the village of Ferniehope yet so that would be the first place to head for.

*   *   *

Shona saw her as soon as she reached the bottom of the drive. Startled, the girl leapt up from the bank that edged the road, letting fall a brown canvas bag with a heavy thud. Then, swaying for a second, she collapsed in a heap among last year's dead leaves the same colour as her tawny hair.

With a cry of alarm, Shona sprang to her. The girl stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes.

‘Are you OK?' Shona said. Stupid question. Of course she wasn't OK. ‘Where have you come from? How long have you been here?'

‘Don't fuss,' the girl mumbled as she staggered to her feet. Dressed in a short denim skirt and navy sweatshirt, she looked
dishevelled
and had dark circles beneath her eyes.

‘Fuss?' said Shona. ‘Have some sense. You look terrible. What d'you expect me to do . . . walk straight past?'

The girl shrugged her thin shoulders.

‘When did you last eat something?'

She seemed about sixteen, seventeen at the most, Shona thought. Too young anyway to be hanging round here looking as if she had spent all night out in the open.

‘Come on, my place is near . . . the castle.'

‘Oh no,' the girl murmured. ‘Not there.' She looked haunted suddenly as if she was about to collapse again.

Shona looked up and down the road. No one was about, of course, when they were needed. ‘No choice, I'm afraid,' she said firmly.

To her relief the girl picked up her bag and nodded.

*   *   *

In the kitchen Mags looked up from rolling out pastry. ‘Back already? And I see we've got company. What are you doing here, Tamsin?'

‘Mrs Mathieson,' said the girl.

‘So you know each other,' said Shona pulling out a chair. ‘Sit down,' she ordered.

‘You know your dad's not here, Tamsin?' Mags said, continuing with her work.

‘I
do now.'

‘She needs feeding,' said Shona, wondering at Mags' calm reception. ‘Can I get her something?'

‘All in good time,' said Mags. ‘We'll phone that school of hers first and see if they'll take her back this time. The number's in the book by the phone on the dresser. What they're thinking of letting a fifteen-year-old girl wander off like this, I don't know.'

‘Fifteen?' said Shona faintly. She looked at Tamsin closely. She could see now that the girl was younger than she had thought and her heart went out to her in her obvious unhappiness. ‘You phone, Mags,' she said. ‘While I find some bread and cheese for her. Is that OK?'

‘Fine.'

‘And I see the kettle's on the boil.'

Shona set about the preparations, glad of some immediate action. She could see that Mags was none too pleased to have Tamsin in her kitchen, but something had to be done.

She was longing to know where the girl had come from and what she was doing here.

Tamsin devoured the food Shona put in front of her and looked a lot better for it and for the mug of tea she was sipping at as Mags put down the receiver.

‘That's that then,' she said in disapproval. ‘I said someone would drive her back as soon as possible. I hope I did right. They'll get on to
that
father of hers to say she's been found. They'll likely have notified the police.'

‘Police,' said Tamsin so startled she upset some tea on the table. She banged the mug down, upsetting more.

Mags tut-tutted as she reached for a cloth.

‘Questions need answering, lass. You'll not get off scot-free.'

Tamsin glared at her. ‘I'll be dead.'

‘I'll get my car keys,' said Shona. ‘Come with me to my room first for a tidy up, Tamsin, and then I'll drive you back.'

Mags nodded. ‘That'll be good.' She wrung her cloth out at the sink with her back to them, but Shona could see from the determined line of her shoulders that she was relieved to be shot of the responsibility.

Tamsin pushed her chair back and got to her feet. Her shoulders slumped as she followed Shona from the room.

*   *   *

Walking away and leaving Tamsin to the mercies of the dark-haired brittle-looking woman who was the head of the school where Tamsin had been a boarder for the past two years was incredibly difficult. What emotions seethed beneath the surface of that calm exterior? Fury, no doubt, and a real fear of the consequences for Benwood House if the press got hold of the story.

Miss
Bowen greeted them kindly enough and at once rang the bell on her desk to summon the matron.

‘We'll talk about this later, Tamsin,' she said as the girl was led away. Her tone of voice was pleasant but there seemed to be an undercurrent of something else that Shona found disturbing.

The headmistress turned to Shona as the door closed. ‘And now I must thank you for returning Tamsin to us. You are a friend of the family?'