Chapter Seventeen
Brann
October
B rann watched as the crane lowered the side panels of the boathouse extension. He held his breath. This was where he became a control freak and wanted to do it all himself. The rest of his life could be as messy as fuck, but with this kind of work, he hated the thought something might go wrong, and it was out of his control.
‘I’m sure the operator knows what he’s doing,’ Harrison said, obviously picking up on the vibe.
‘I’m sure he does. We just can’t afford any mistakes.’
When the last panel was in place, Brann exhaled slowly. He and his team got to work, hammering everything into place. The boathouse had a whole new look. The quirky, original bit was now a feature front with a cabin-style lodge out the back giving ample living space and three upstairs bedrooms. This was the type of modern miracle Brann loved. Flatpack houses.
Back in the main part of the boathouse, he opened his laptop and worked on some admin while the team brought everything together. He used to scoff and moan about his superiors spending more time in an office than onsite. Now he understood why. Paperwork was a necessary and time-consuming evil.
A knock on the door. He looked up as Ophelia’s head poked around. He suppressed the raging hormones that fired up at the sight of her. Since their soiree at Scone Palace, they’d been well-behaved and were trying to stay businesslike. Not an easy ask, especially after that kiss they’d shared. That’d been something else, a union of souls.
‘I’m stunned,’ she said. ‘The extension is up already. How did I miss it?’
‘It’s quick once it arrives.’
‘No kidding.’
‘Obviously, there’s still work to be done, but with the shell on like that, you can see how it’ll look.’
‘It’s incredible.’
‘Glad you approve. We all know how hard you are to please.’
She huffed and raised an eyebrow. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘Admin.’
‘The boring stuff.’ She sat on the plank of wood he’d balanced on two reels to make a desk for himself.
‘You guessed it.’
‘I’ve just had a heap of that to do for the business. I miss meeting clients and working on designs with them face to face. Lucinda’s been doing all that. I get the brunt of the admin work and some of the online meetings.’
‘What is it you actually do?’
‘Don’t you know?’
He shook his head.
‘Oh… Well, I’m an, um, interior designer.’
‘You’ll be in your element here then.’
She gave an odd little half laugh. ‘Knowing my luck, Jacinta will swoop in and get her mad artist friend to decorate this place too, before I get a chance.’
‘You should move in here.’
‘That’s not a bad idea, especially as she stole the cottage. This could be perfect. We won’t get as many holidaymakers over the winter months, but will it be ready?’
‘For you, Princess, I’ll move heaven and earth and make sure it’s ready.’
She quirked her lips up and patted him on the shoulder. ‘I don’t dislike you quite as much as I used to.’
‘Good progress then.’ He winked at her.
She peered out the window, then got to her feet and went over to it. ‘Come here a minute.’
He followed, moving in behind her, his hand dropping instantly to her lower back.
‘It’s that man again,’ she said.
‘I’m going to talk to him.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
They nipped outside and strode around the lochan. The wind whipped up, and the trees swayed.
‘Hey there,’ Brann called to the man.
He stopped moving and turned to face them. His beard was very long and Brann suppressed an urge to call him Gandalf.
‘Are you ok?’ Brann asked.
‘Mmm.’ The man nodded.
‘Can we help you?’ Ophelia asked. ‘We’ve seen you here before. Are you looking for something?’
‘My house.’ He pointed at the boathouse. ‘Used to live there.’
Brann flicked Ophelia a little glance, and she pulled a helpless face.
‘You used to live here? I think I remember you, but that was a long time ago.’
‘A long time, yes.’
‘Listen,’ Brann said. ‘Are you sleeping rough out here?’
The man nodded. ‘Got a camp.’
‘Do you also have a moped?’
‘Borrowed it, but it ran out of fuel and can’t get it back.’
Something stirred in the back of Brann’s mind, a long-forgotten memory. He was just a boy and his dad had thrown him – almost literally – out of their house one night when he wanted to have some unsavoury guests over. Their wacky old neighbour had almost knocked Brann over on his motorbike, but instead of losing his shit as a lot of their neighbours would have, he’d taken him in for the night and given him a drink and some mouldy biscuits.
‘Are you Donald Struthers?’ Brann asked.
‘Huh?’ the man frowned at him from under his bushy eyebrows. ‘Donald, yes.’
‘You know him too?’ Ophelia blinked at him.
Brann nodded, then turned his attention back to Donald. ‘You used to live next door to me when I was a lad. I’m Brann.’
Donald peered forward. ‘You’ve grown.’
‘I hope so. I was about ten when I last saw you. We should get you somewhere safe.’
‘Nowhere safe these days.’
‘You can’t stay here. It’s dangerous with winter coming.’ Brann stepped closer and put his arm around Donald’s shoulder. ‘I could run you to a hostel. Do you want me to help you collect your belongings?’
Donald fidgeted with his tatty sleeves. ‘Yes. That might be best. I like the woods, but it’s very cold.’
‘Come on then. Let’s get you some help.’ He turned to Ophelia. ‘Can you go back and tell the guys where I am?’
‘Sure. Will you be ok?’
‘Yeah. We’ll be fine.’
Donald’s camp was deep in the woods. If Brann had to choose somewhere to sleep rough for several months, this wouldn’t be a bad choice. But the poor guy looked thin and malnourished. His speech was slow, and so were his movements. It seemed a little cruel packing up his life and moving him on, but he needed help, and he wouldn’t get that out here.
‘How did you end up here?’ Brann asked.
‘Walked when we all fell out.’ Donald was moving so slowly it was taking ages to get back to the boathouse. Brann didn’t remember Donald’s family or much about him. Only the motorcycle and that night of kindness when otherwise he’d have been sleeping in the garden while his dad had a drunken orgy. ‘Worked here for a while, then I had to go. No money to pay me.’
‘I know the feeling. I’ll get you somewhere safe.’
‘Too old for this. A long time ago, some nice people lived here. They helped me. And a little girl. She could draw.’
‘Was that Ophelia?’
‘Ophelia yes. Strange name.’
When they finally got back, Brann put Donald’s stuff in the back of the van and let him climb in.
‘Wait there and I’ll let the others know where I’m going,’ Brann told him.
Ophelia was inside at his makeshift desk on her phone.
‘I’m going to run him into Perth,’ Brann said. ‘There’s a homeless shelter there.’
She put her phone down. ‘Can I come too?’
‘You can, but I’m not going to sugarcoat this. He smells bad. If you think you can stand it all the way to Perth, then fine, but you’ll be sitting right next to him.’
‘It’s fine. I’ll do it. I remember him. He lived in the old worker’s cottages for a while when my grandparents were still alive, then my father moved him here. I’m not sure why. Goodness knows how he ended up in the woods.’
‘Apparently your father didn’t pay him.’
Ophelia groaned. ‘Get’s worse and worse, doesn’t it?’
‘Not half. But he remembers you. Apparently you were good at drawing.’
She gave him a half smile. ‘I should certainly hope so.’
‘Come on then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Brann put the heating on in the van and opened the windows, driving with his head facing away from Donald. Poor guy clearly hadn’t washed for many months. Ophelia seemed to be coping well with the smell, though she was having more trouble keeping her hair in place once they hit the dual carriageway and the wind whistled in.
‘Do you remember me?’ she asked. ‘I saw you sometimes with my grandparents when I was little.’
‘Yes. You did pretty pictures. Do you still do them?’
‘Yes, I do.’
Brann was impressed she made out anything from his words. They were quite garbled.
By the time they got him to the hostel, handed over his belongings and told the receptionist as much information as they could, it was a lot later than Brann had anticipated.
‘Bye, Donald,’ Ophelia said as the receptionist went over to him.
He gave them a little wave.
‘Take care,’ Brann said. ‘I never thanked you for that night when I was a kid, but maybe this will repay the favour.’
Donald gave him a weak smile. ‘You’re a good boy. You did good. Shame about your parents.’
‘Yeah, well, never mind. They’re both gone now.’
‘Thank you,’ Donald said. ‘Stay safe. Ophelia is a beautiful wife. So kind.’
Brann covered his mouth to hide his laugh as he left. Ophelia raised her eyebrow. ‘Only someone who’d been living rough for years would think that we’re married.’
‘So true.’ Still chuckling, he got back in the van. ‘I hope the house hasn’t collapsed.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me how you know him? What did he do for you when you were a kid?’
‘Helped me escape my dick of a father for a night.’ He started the engine and drove off, not looking at her. ‘My childhood was pretty shit. Dad liked to have women around, just not with me in the house, so he’d kick me out. Who knows what he wanted me to do? I just wandered about.’ Sometimes he’d cried. Until he got tough, then he kicked off and got into trouble. Nothing serious, but it got him a reputation he never really deserved. Having his own kids had helped with that. He’d stopped messing around for their sake. ‘Donald nearly ran me over one night when I was hanging around. Even then, he was a bit odd, but he was kind hearted.’
‘That’s how I remember him too. I guess I was lucky growing up. I used to think my childhood was bad, always hiding from my parents when they were arguing, but at least I never got kicked out to fend for myself.’
He shifted his hand to rest on her thigh, and she linked her fingers with his. ‘It’s all relative. Your hurts were just as painful as mine.’
‘Not really, but you’ve done so well considering what you came from.’
‘Thanks.’ He let out a sigh. ‘Maybe you could ring the police and explain about the moped. It’s still in the woods, though it’s in pretty poor shape now.’
‘Sure.’ Ophelia pulled out her phone as he drove. ‘Oh no,’ she groaned, after ending the call.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Hayley’s booked to go whitewater rafting this weekend with her boyfriend. Apparently her brother and his wife were supposed to do it too, but they have the sick bug and can’t make it. She wonders if I’ll go instead and take James. Get this, because it would be a good bonding experience for us.’
Brann chuckled. ‘I guess she doesn’t know you were dumped before the first date.’
‘No one knows that.’
‘Except me.’
‘Yup.’
‘And do you want me to stand in for him again? I can become Brian and go rafting. Except Hayley already knows who I am, of course.’
‘Exactly. There’s no way I can take you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because Hayley already thinks I fancy you.’
‘Got that right, didn’t she?’ He raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes on the road.
‘Seriously, Brann, you need to stop saying things like that.’
‘Just saying it like it is. Tell her we’re going as frenemies or something like that.’
‘Frenemies?’
‘They’re all the rage at the moment, according to Caitlin.’
‘It’s risky.’
‘So what? Since when has that bothered you? You took a risk leaving your business and coming here. You’re contemplating getting thrown off a waterfall into plunging rapids, but you think it’s riskier being seen with me… In case someone discovers the truth. God forbid you were caught liking someone like me.’
‘Alright. You’ve made your point. Fine. Come with me.’
He chuckled. ‘I really put my foot in it there, didn’t I? I’ve just volunteered to be thrown over a waterfall this weekend.’
‘Yes, you did. And you can’t chicken out now.’
‘Neither can you. I can’t wait to hear what you tell Hayley.’
Ophelia let out a low moan and sank back into her seat. Brann smirked. This could be an interesting weekend.