Chapter Nineteen
Brann
T he front door slammed and Brann cringed, midway through stirring a pot of chilli.
‘Don’t slam the bloody door! You’ll knock it off its hinges.’
‘It’s not like you couldn’t fix it in like five seconds.’ Caitlin smacked a leather bag onto the kitchen table.
‘That isn’t the point. I’d rather you didn’t damage my property.’
‘Whatever.’ Caitlin flicked her hair over her shoulder and slumped into a seat.
‘What’s rattled your cage?’
‘Nothing.’ She shrugged and pulled out her phone. Her eyes were slightly red, and Brann watched her for a second until she looked back and pulled a face. ‘Why is your hair wet?’
‘I went white-water rafting today.’
‘What?’ Caitlin gaped at him.
‘Yup.’
‘You never told me you were doing that. I’d have come and taken photos. Who did you go with?’
‘Ah, just some… mates. It was a last-minute thing.’
‘Did anyone get pictures?’
‘I don’t think so. We couldn’t take phones on the boat, and it would have been difficult to find a place to stand for photos.’ Logan had taken some official snaps before they started, but Brann wasn’t about to share them. That would lead to too many questions. Some he didn’t want to answer. But he was glad he’d gone along. Ophelia had looked so petrified. Not that he’d helped much, but some moral support was better than nothing.
‘You’re crazy,’ Caitlin said. ‘I’d never do that.’
‘I never thought I would either, but it was a good experience.’
She let out a sigh and rested her chin on the back of her hand.
‘Are you sure you’re ok?’ Brann sat opposite her. ‘Talk to me. I know it’s not always easy, but sometimes it’s better to share.’
‘Ugh.’ She groaned. ‘It’s just this annoying girl from the theatre club. I thought she was a right snob, then she seemed ok for a bit, and we were like quite friendly.’
Brann nodded, not daring to speak in case he said the wrong thing and she clammed up again.
‘I was going to meet her in town today, ’cause she’s not at my school, see. But she didn’t show, then I got all these photos from her friend, saying she didn’t want to tell me herself, but she thinks I’m a loser. In the photos, she’s…’
Brann tilted his head. ‘She’s what?’
‘She’s with this boy I like from the club. I can’t believe she’s going out with him when she said she wouldn’t. I never want to go back there.’
Brann reached over and took her hand. An urge to storm out of the house and hunt down everyone who’d hurt his baby girl surged through him, but he mastered it. ‘I get it. I totally get it. It’s your call whether or not you go, but it seems a shame to give up on it because of a couple of people.’
‘I know, but it’s so awkward.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Yeah, I know. You’re a strong girl, but if you don’t want to fight this battle, I completely understand. Sometimes walking away is the best course.’
She pulled a face that was almost grateful, though a little annoyed.
‘At least if she’s not at your school, you won’t have to see her there.’
‘I guess.’ She pulled a pout, then glanced at him. ‘I think you know her.’
‘Me?’ Brann frowned. ‘How do I know her?’
‘Because she lives at that place you’re working.’
‘At Glenvorneth?’
‘Yup.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Francesca Chattan-Blythe.’ Caitlin put on a fake posh voice, dragging out the name like it was totally boring.
‘Hmm.’ He tried to recall if he’d met her or not. Whenever he was at Glenvorneth, his mind was always on a different Chattan-Blythe.
‘Her sister is that posh woman we watched riding at the highland games. The bossy one who was there when I came up for the work experience day.’
‘Oh, right. Her.’
‘Yeah. I don’t think any of them are very nice. Got more money than sense and the reason they all walk so upright is because they have so many silver spoons rammed up their arses.’
Brann sniggered. ‘That’s not very nice.’
‘Yeah, well, she hasn’t exactly been nice to me. And I know you were thinking about getting me riding lessons there, but I don’t want to go now.’
‘Understandable.’ He let go of her hand, got to his feet, and went to stir the pot on the stove. A niggle worked its way from his chest into his gut. He’d have been pissed off about anyone bullying Caitlin, but the discovery of the culprit unsettled him. He didn’t need any further connections to that family. Good or bad.
Letting Caitlin speak in her own time was usually best, so he didn’t push her for anything else. She was happy to take her dinner into the living room on a tray and they sat side by side, with their feet up, watching Strictly . Brann wouldn’t have watched it on his own, but these dad-and-daughter moments didn’t come around that often. Soon she’d be too grown up to want to do this kind of thing with her dad. He had to take them while he could.
She was with him all weekend and they spent Sunday together, going for a run in the morning and Brann pottering about the house while she did her homework in the afternoon.
He was doing up his bedroom, a long overdue job. When he’d split with Kristalee and moved here, he had to provide a house with a bedroom for each child. Such was the rule for different sex children. Made sense, but finding an affordable three-bedroom house in Glenbriar wasn’t easy. This town didn’t come cheap. Thanks to his DIY skills, he’d been able to convert a two-bedroom house into three by partitioning the largest bedroom. It wasn’t ideal and made for two very small rooms, but it complied with the guidelines. Now, Harrison was at his girlfriend’s house more than anywhere else, and they were looking at places together. Caitlin wouldn’t be at school much longer and Brann could see a time when he might sell this house and move somewhere else. He’d always fancied a doer upper. A proper one, like an abandoned cottage in the countryside. The kind of place he was always doing for other people. Like the boathouse. It was stunning, but he’d never be able to afford anything like that.
If he was to sell this house, it needed some changes. The décor was tired. Starting with his own room seemed like a good plan. He’d never really done anything to it. As it was the smaller bedroom, it didn’t have a lot of space and it looked woefully like a teenager’s bedroom, not a grown man’s. Not that it mattered. He didn’t exactly bring people back here to see it. If he hooked up with people, he went to their houses. Only once he’d brought a woman back here and she hadn’t been greatly impressed by the place. Who would be? Nineteen-sixties, two-bedroom, mid-terraced houses weren’t exactly much to look at.
He’d ripped out an old shelving unit and was in the process of carrying the bits downstairs when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. Dropping the planks outside the backdoor, he pulled it out. Kristalee .
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi. Is Caitlin there?’
‘Inside, doing her homework.’
‘Ah, ok. I messaged her, but she didn’t reply. I wondered if she’d gone into Perth.’
‘She put her phone on silent and left it out of reach, so she can concentrate.’
‘Sensible. I was gonna ask her to pick some stuff up, but I’ll get it another day.’
‘She went to Perth yesterday.’ He glanced inside. The living room door where Caitlin was working was still shut. ‘Listen, I need to tell you something.’ He stepped into the garden and sat at the little round bistro table on the tiny patio area.
‘What’s up?’
‘She told me about some girls who are bullying her. One of them is from the Glenvorneth Estate, where I’m working at the moment.’
‘The Chattan-Blythes?’
‘You know them?’
‘Do you not remember? I cleaned a house for one of them when she split with the posh bloke from there.’
Those days seemed so long ago sometimes, but at other times were like yesterday. ‘I vaguely remember you cleaning houses, but I’d never have put two and two together. I’m not sure I ever knew the names of most of the people you cleaned for.’
‘Yeah. It’s weird, because they were in the shop the other day.’
‘Who was?’
‘The Chattan-Blythes. The new wife and one of the daughters. I bloody hope it’s not her who’s doing the bullying. She’s an adult.’
‘No, it’s someone Caitlin’s age. From the theatre club.’
‘I knew something was happening there. Well, I don’t care if she doesn’t go back if it’s filled with snooty-nosed bullies. The Chattan-Blythe woman was right up herself.’
Brann bit his tongue. Sometimes that was true, and he’d told her so himself, but he didn’t like hearing it from other people. She was his to insult; no one else was allowed. Even inside his head, that sounded totally nuts, but it didn’t take away the irritation.
‘Hmm,’ he muttered.
‘I assume she’s the mother of the bully.’
‘No, she’s her sister.’
‘What? I’m talking about the older woman.’
‘Oh… I thought you meant… Never mind.’
‘The sister wasn’t that bad. Ophelia. She’s friends with my boss. But, oh my god…’
‘What?’
‘I went and told her that her mum had a gay partner. And she didn’t know.’
Brann raised his eyes to the heavens. Kristalee had done that? His ex? Somehow the web got even more tangled around him. ‘Oh dear.’
‘Yeah. Me and my big mouth. Anyway, how did we get onto this?’
‘The bullying.’
‘Well, I think keeping as big a distance from these people as we can is about the best thing we can do.’
And wasn’t that the truth? Only Brann couldn’t keep away. He had to work there. A good enough excuse for now, but he wasn’t convinced he wanted to keep away anyway. Something about Ophelia always lured him back, even though he knew he shouldn’t, and it wasn’t good for him.
Brann and Harrison turned up at the boathouse on Monday morning, as usual. A message popped in so uncannily, he checked around to see if Ophelia was watching for his arrival from the bushes.
OPHELIA C-B: Now the boathouse has walls and floors, can I start moving stuff in or will that get in the way? I don’t think I can stomach the main house much longer.
brANN: The painters are coming today and tomorrow. If they get the main rooms finished, you can start moving stuff into the living areas and bedrooms while we finish the kitchen.
OPHELIA C-B: Thanks. I might need your help to move furniture… You being the brawn after all. *wink emoji*
He smirked as he replied.
brANN: Just tell me where you want me and I’ll oblige. *two wink emojis*
OPHELIA C-B: I can think of a few choice places. *three wink emojis*
Brann looked up and was confronted by Harrison with folded arms, his eyebrows raised. ‘Messaging your girlfriend again?’
‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’
‘Who are you messaging then?’
‘It was Ophelia asking about the progress.’
‘Uh-huh. Like I said. Your girlfriend.’
‘She isn’t—’
‘Yeah, so you say, and yet, that look on your face when you’re messaging her… Well, didn’t look like you were writing a progress update.’
Brann glanced away, chewing his tongue.
‘And I don’t suppose you’re going to show me those messages, are you?’ Harrison said.
‘No, I’m not. Now, let’s get to work. She wants to start moving in here.’
‘Are you moving in with her?’
‘No. Of course I’m bloody not.’
Harrison laughed and Brann threw him a look. Thankfully the painters arrived before either of them could say anything else.
Ophelia didn’t appear in person that day, and Brann was glad. Keeping up their pretence took its toll. Where did they stand? How did he really feel? How much easier was it when he didn’t have to see her? Except, a strong ache in his chest developed throughout the day when he realised she wasn’t coming. It got worse the next day when she didn’t show up again. She messaged, asking how the painters were getting on, and he hid in the van to reply in case Harrison spotted some look on his face again.
After he sent it, he checked his reflection in the rear mirror. Christ. He rubbed his face. I look rough. It went with the territory in this job, but he hadn’t shaved since Saturday and his hair could do with a trim. He quite liked it longish – surfer style, as Caitlin called it – but it was starting to look more like tramp style. He frowned, wondering if old Donald was ok. Probably better off than out here in the wilds with November approaching.
On Thursday – finally – Ophelia called, summoning Brann to the back door of the main house. He took the van as ordered and rocked up to find her outside in a pleasant little courtyard area, surrounded by some small items of furniture and boxes.
‘Ah, good, you’re here,’ she said. ‘I need this stuff taken to the boathouse. And I have a bed.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you having a laugh? You want me to get a bed out of the house and up to the boathouse? I’ll have to dismantle it.’
‘It’s new, and it’s not made up yet. It’s just been delivered.’ She opened a door to a small room. Some large boxes were piled at the side, along with a mattress covered in plastic.
‘Couldn’t this stuff have been delivered directly to the boathouse?’
‘I tried. But they couldn’t find it and when they came to the door, Jacinta answered and told them to put it in here.’
‘Great. Well, you better get out of the way and let me get it out.’
She stepped back, eyeing him over as he lifted the first box.
‘You sure you didn’t get them to put it here so you could have your own little peep show?’
She smirked and gave a little shrug. ‘I guess you’ll never know.’
‘Oh, I think I do.’ He shoved the box into the van, dusted off his hands, and came back for the next one. ‘You recovered from the rafting then?’
‘Yes, but I’m never doing that again.’
He lifted the next box. ‘What? The rafting or being seen in public with me?’
‘Both.’
‘Nice.’ He returned for the mattress. ‘How big is this bed? Are you planning on filling it with lots of men in loincloths to feed you grapes or something?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You’ll have to help me with this. I don’t want to drag it.’
She went inside and put her hands on the sides of the mattress.
‘Together,’ he said. ‘Lift.’
‘Bloody hell. This is heavier than it looks.’
‘No kidding. Tell me if you need to put it down and I’ll stop.’
Maybe she was trying to prove a point because she didn’t say anything and they made it to the van without stopping. He balanced it on the edge, then moved around the back to push it in.
‘Ready?’ He put his hands close to hers and she pinned him in her gaze.
‘Let’s do it.’
Together, they shoved it into the van. As soon as it was in, Brann slammed the back doors shut and leaned on them. ‘Teamwork makes the dream work, huh?’
Ophelia let out a puff, then held a flat palm up to the side. Brann high-fived it.
‘I was thinking about old Donald,’ he said. ‘I wonder if he’s doing ok.’
‘I could phone the hostel and see if they’ll tell me how he is. I told my father I’d met him, but I’m not sure he even remembered who I was talking about.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘He’s so out of touch.’
‘Yup.’
Brann wanted to ask about her sister, but didn’t. It would mean explaining about Caitlin and he didn’t want to tell anyone about what had happened. It wasn’t his place.
He ignored Harrison’s look when he returned with Ophelia and the full van. Ophelia, however, started chatting with him. Brann smirked at his son’s red face. Served him right for all his speculation.
‘So, your strapping young son is going to help you get that mattress upstairs,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he’ll be a lot better at it than me.’
‘We Duthies are built to grind.’ Brann pulled a bicep like Popeye.
‘You said it.’ Ophelia looked away with a little smile.
He and Harrison wrestled the mattress up the stairs and let it fall onto the wooden floor. The view from up here was incredible. The glass wall with its view over the lochan was like something from a magazine – kind of unreal.
‘Why the hell was she laughing at you saying you were built to grind?’ Harrison muttered. ‘Have you had sex with her?’
‘No, I fucking haven’t and keep your voice down.’ Brann glowered at the door. Harrison flopped onto the mattress and lay like a starfish.
‘Bet you want to though. You could be next on this mattress.’
‘Get off that and help me bring the boxes up. And behave.’
When they got back downstairs, Ophelia was on her phone. She excused herself and flattened it to her shoulder. ‘Listen, can you give me a lift back to the house to get the rest of my stuff? I’ve got sofas coming tomorrow and I want to make sure they come straight here.’
‘Hell yes. I don’t want to try and get sofas in the van.’
He and Harrison took the bed boxes upstairs, then Brann ran Ophelia back to the main house.
‘You will never guess what,’ she muttered.
‘What?’
‘Jacinta’s son, Xander, that little sneak, has gone and told her that his friend Sean and I are a couple waiting to happen. She’s wetting her pants over him, because she thinks he has cash. And because he’s friends with her little darling.’
‘That boy we met at the dinner dance?’
‘Exactly. He’s a child. I’ll never date him. I could have stomached James if I had to. He was nice and around the same age as me. But Sean. No, just no. But Jacinta wants to invite him for dinner. Oh, she is so irritating.’
Brann shook his head, trying to listen with an immune, possibly concerned ear, but it wasn’t working. Raging bile was bubbling in his gut. The thought of her with any of these men made him want to smash something. But this was the kind of person who would get her. Not him.
He dropped her off at the house and went back to work. Harrison had already started unboxing the bed, and they began putting it together.
By Friday afternoon, the house was almost habitable. The bedroom had a bed. Ophelia was upstairs adding her soft furnishings. The living area had the new sofas, and the kitchen was almost done. It only needed a few finishing touches – things Brann could have done if he hadn’t been running about helping Ophelia move furniture and making beds in between, but he wasn’t really bothered. She was paying him to do it and he liked her company. He’d like to deny it, but he couldn’t.
‘I need to go back to the house and get a few more things.’ Ophelia appeared in the kitchen. ‘Then I’m going to spend my first night here.’
‘Enjoy,’ Brann said.
‘Well, in case you’re gone before I get back, I’d like to say thank you. To both of you.’ She glanced at Harrison. ‘You’ve really helped me out this week. I know it’s part of your job, but I appreciate it nonetheless.’
‘Um… Ok,’ Harrison said.
With a little wave, she left.
‘What’s got into her?’ Harrison asked. ‘When’s she ever been that nice?’
‘Not a clue,’ Brann said. ‘Let’s finish sealing these worktops, then get home for the weekend.’ Brann refilled the sealant gun and pointed it into place. He was so well practised at this, he hardly looked at what he was doing as he zipped around the edge.
A knock on the door startled him and he lifted the gun just in time to avoid a wobble. ‘Who the hell’s that?’ he muttered.
‘Another sofa delivery?’ Harrison suggested.
‘Open it and see, will you? I want to finish this bit, so it doesn’t go wonky.’
Harrison trotted into the hallway, which used to be the side room of the old part of the boathouse, and Brann heard him talking to a man at the door. The voice was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
‘Who was it?’ Brann asked when Harrison returned.
Harrison pulled a weirded-out face. ‘Well, knock me down with a feather,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s got a boyfriend, and it’s not you.’
‘What are you on about?’
‘That was her boyfriend at the door.’ He pushed his thumb over his shoulder. ‘He’s gone upstairs to look around. Looks like a right ponce,’ he added in a whisper.
‘What did he say his name was?’
‘Sean somebody-or-other. Looks like he’s my age. Bit young for her, no?’
‘Seriously?’ Brann put the sealant gun down.
‘Where are you going?’
‘We can’t just let anybody come in here and wander about.’ He stormed up the stairs and into the newly decorated bedroom. It looked incredible with a thick fur rug on the wooden floor, white lined and chunky knit throws on the bed. All with a view of the loch.
Sean turned from gazing out the window and put his hands behind his back when Brann appeared.
‘Hey,’ Brann said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Come to see Ophelia.’ Sean held his chin high. ‘You’re Brian, aren’t you? What are you doing here yourself?’
‘I’m the builder.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah. And she didn’t mention anything about you coming here.’
A little smirk played on Sean’s lips. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t share her private life with her builder.’
‘True enough, but we were just talking about her plans, and you didn’t feature in them, so it’s a bit suspicious to find you up here sneaking about in her room. Not to mention creepy.’
‘Hold on a minute.’ Sean moved his hands from behind his back to reveal a bottle of wine. ‘I wasn’t being creepy. She doesn’t know I’m here because it’s a surprise. I wanted to give her this.’
Brann raised an eyebrow. ‘In her bedroom?’
‘I was just looking around, ok? It’s a good view.’ Sean eyed him over. ‘And if you’re the builder, why were you at a party with her?’
‘That’s irrelevant.’ Brann shook his head. ‘And no. It’s not ok. I’m leaving shortly and you’re leaving too. She wants me to lock up and no way am I locking up with you in here. Call her and tell her you’re here if you want. Or I will, but I’m not leaving you here by yourself.’
‘Fine, fine. I’m going, though it’s none of your business. I’ll call her myself and I’ll also tell her about your behaviour.’
‘You do that.’
He edged past Brann, who didn’t move except to turn and watch him leave. Brann followed him down the stairs and, after he’d left, slung the bolt across the door.
‘Fuck’s sake.’ What an idiot. Maybe it was a silly attempt at being romantic, but Brann still didn’t like it.
Sitting on the new sofa, he pulled out his phone.