Chapter Seventeen
Mats greeted Monday with scant enthusiasm. As Ezzie hadn’t shown up for fika on Sunday nor answered his most recent texts, he lay in wait for her to arrive for work. When she spotted him lurking in reception under the guise of chatting to Orla, she said, ‘Good morning,’ then strode into her office, pulling off her long overcoat. Though her face was wan, the rest of her was as immaculate as ever.
He followed her in. ‘Are you OK?’
Her blue eyes bleak, she answered indirectly. ‘Thea’s having difficulty with her pregnancy and has stayed in Dumfries. I need to concentrate on that and work stuff.’ She didn’t actually add, So please don’t talk to me about the crappy mess you dropped me into, but her tone suggested that she didn’t want to rehash his motormouth moment in front of Valentina on Saturday.
‘I’m sorry to hear it.’ He was shaken, imagining how he’d have felt if either of Inger’s pregnancies had come under threat. ‘Now I feel worse than ever.’
She settled herself at the desk without acknowledging his feelings. ‘I’ll send Grete a formal email. Then I must speak to Sheena about working around Thea’s absence.’
‘I understand,’ he said hollowly, getting the hint that she was manager and she wasn’t in favour of him informing his parents. After a pause to see if she’d add anything, he returned to the family quarters, hanging around until Grete received the email on her phone and read it aloud to him and Erik, her voice full of concern.
Erik knit his thick eyebrows anxiously. ‘We must hope for the best for Thea.’
‘Indeed.’ Grete phoned Ezz to ask her to come to the home office to discuss the staff situation once she’d spoken to Sheena. When Grete and Erik settled themselves there to plan for the rest of the family arriving on Sunday, Mats joined them.
‘Two hire cars will be waiting at Inverness Airport.’ Grete, perhaps not wanting to dwell on poor Thea’s situation before they knew the outcome, beamed at the prospect of seeing all her children and grandchildren together.
Mats listened to his parents discuss food and drink, and days out around the island. Affectionately, he said, ‘You’d think there were ninety extra people coming, not nine.’ But he was glad to see his parents putting their heads together. They’d been so natural and relaxed with each other since their heart-to-heart after Erik’s arrival that he was nurturing hopes they were sorting out their differences.
Grete treated him to a look of mock-reproof. ‘But they are nine very special people.’
They were laughing as Ezz knocked at the half-open door, her pallor exaggerated by her sombre black suit. Mats rose to give her his chair, while he took another at the side of the room. For some reason, it gave him satisfaction to think that she’d be able to feel the residual warmth of his body.
‘Any news from Thea?’ He wanted to show her that he was focused on her main concern.
She shook her head. ‘I’ve talked to Dev this morning, but Thea was sleeping. He said that it’s just a question of waiting to see.’ Her gaze switched to Grete and Erik. ‘I’ve spoken to Sheena.’
Erik smiled. ‘The gardens can be left in winter?’
Her blonde hair danced as she nodded. ‘To an extent. Tree surgeons are coming this week, so Sheena will oversee them. Other jobs on the gardeners’ planner up until New Year are pruning of shrubs and the grapevine, clearing leaves and things like that.’
‘Nothing world-ending,’ Grete observed kindly.
‘No. Though Thea loves that grapevine.’ Ezz managed a tiny smile. ‘The one thing that can’t be neglected is the feeding and general care of Clive and the ponies.’
Mats heard himself say, ‘I can do that. Then Sheena can concentrate on the gardens.’
All the eyes in the room swivelled his way. ‘Good, Mats,’ approved Grete.
‘Very helpful,’ added Erik.
An actual smile shone in Ezz’s eyes. ‘That would solve a small but important issue. Sheena will show you what supplementary feed they need in winter and how to check their water’s filling. It’s piped automatically but can freeze.’ She turned back to Grete. ‘You thought perhaps some of the older children might like to ride. Haggis and Scotch have tack in one of the outbuildings. I don’t think they’d mind coming out of retirement.’
Grete pursed her lips. ‘But we have done nothing about helmets. I think we do not tell the children that Scotch and Haggis have saddles until summer.’
Mats stored away the information that his mum expected at least some of the family to be at Rothach this summer and wondered if he’d be among them. At present, it was easy to arrange his holidays as and when they suited him, but if he left Larsson Fiskeri because of the long hours he’d been working then that might change. He studied Ezz as she listened to the conversation, the tiniest tuck between her pale brows, and wondered how much it would hurt to leave her behind when he went home to Sweden in the New Year. How had he fallen so hard and fast for the beautiful British blonde, the first woman he’d felt anything for since his divorce? Would he return in the summer and discover that Ezz had found a new man? A green spear of jealousy pierced him at the idea of her sharing with someone else that fierce, sensation-seeking passion that had gripped them both on Saturday night.
Grete spoke again. ‘I have texted to Thea our good wishes. She must not worry about work.’
Ezz blinked rapidly. ‘Thank you. I’m sure she appreciates your kindness.’
The sombre exchange made Mats think that both women feared the worst for Thea’s pregnancy. He wanted to take Ezz’s hand but knew how little she’d welcome it. Already dropped her in it with her sister by blabbing the biggest secret of her life? Why not let her employers know that she’s been sleeping with their son into the bargain? Awesome job, Mats.
Ezz’s tepid texts might not have blamed Mats for his stupid indiscretion, but the way her gaze skated away from his suggested the opposite. He half-listened to a conversation about Orla from reception leaving on Friday. His dad was in rumbling mode, questioning whether they needed more help, holding up his big hands to count off on his fingers. ‘No assistant manager until February. No receptionist. No head gardener. Perhaps the Larssons are horrible?’ He gave one of his giant, beaming grins, but sobered quickly. ‘You are OK, Ezz? We distress if you are not OK with much work.’
Her smile for Erik was obviously genuine, and it was obvious that they got along well, despite Erik’s ungrammatical English. It dawned on Mats that if Erik had arrived at the hall at the same time as Mats, Grete and co, she might never have been so stiff and anxious to please. Ezz answered, ‘I haven’t met any horrible Larssons yet.’ She hesitated, frowning. ‘I’ll have to take back some of the routine tasks I gave Orla. Updating spreadsheets and collating statements for the accountants ready for the end of year and the fourth-quarter VAT return, for instance.’
Mats found himself volunteering again. ‘If you show me the spreadsheets, I can do those.’ When she looked taken aback and her mouth opened as if to refuse, he added, ‘I’m a finance officer. I can take a few hours of work off your desk.’
‘Good boy,’ said Erik, as if Mats was five years old.
Grete awarded him her twinkliest smile.
In the face of their approbation, Ezz capitulated. ‘That would be a great help. Thank you.’
Ten minutes later, he was in her office while she whizzed through the relevant spreadsheets, showing him where to pick up the data, and what to cross-reference. There was not even the slightest acknowledgement that he was anything more to her than her bosses’ son. He made notes on her pad. ‘What else can I do?’
She hesitated, then seemed to give a mental shrug, as if she might as well make use of him. ‘The employment records need checking. We do it once to December 31st for the year end and again in April for the tax year. The staff records are in a password-protected area.’ She took the pad from him and wrote the access details he’d need. ‘If you take the assistant manager’s office, the computer there has the accounting software.’ She added the computer password to his notes.
He let his body angle towards hers, enjoying the citrus scent of her skin, wondering whether it was soap or body lotion. Despite her so obviously being in work mode, he dropped his voice, so she had to lean in to hear him. ‘Did I cause real trouble between you and Valentina?’ His arms itched to close around her and hold her as he had on Saturday, feeling her beautiful body melt into him like butter on hot toast.
She put up a hand, as if she anticipated the embrace he was itching to bestow … and didn’t want it. ‘I’m afraid Valentina’s hurt and upset. We’re very close, you see …’ The words caught in her throat.
His heart gave a great, wretched heave. ‘I’m so sorry.’ When she didn’t answer he rose, deflated. ‘I’ll make a start while Josefin has the children out at the playground.’ He returned his chair to its spot on the other side of the desk, and then sought out the tiny assistant manager’s office, furious with himself that impetuosity had once again got him in trouble and no matter how profuse his apologies, Ezz was the one suffering for him speaking before he thought.
His first night with Ezz might have been his last.
* * *
Mats’ family gathered in the kitchen for lunch, everyone grabbing things from cupboards or the fridge and adding them to the table to share, like a chaotic sm?rg?sbord . Astrid and Alvin had been racing around outside, and Alvin was almost asleep in his bread and cheese, a sausage clutched in one small hand. Although he considered himself too old for daytime naps, he did occasionally grab one.
Astrid licked her fingers, having just consumed a tomato from her hand as if it were an apple. ‘Daddy, can we talk to Mummy?’
He nodded. ‘Let me text her to set up a time.’ Video calls with Inger were fine with him, but he first intended to make it clear that, in the children’s hearing, it would not be appropriate to repeat her request that he whisk them to North Tunisia for Christmas. They’d start running around whooping about visiting Mummy on a yacht with zero understanding of what that would entail and no care for existing plans for a Skye Christmas. He slipped Alvin onto his lap to snooze. The little boy smelled of sausage and the outdoors. Mats dropped a kiss on the baby-soft hair as he texted Inger: The kids would like to FaceTime you. When is convenient? He added his request for circumspection regarding impossible Christmas plans.
Erik switched to his native Swedish. ‘It’s good Alvin gets some sleep before his cousins arrive. Especially Walter. I’ve never known a seven-year-old who can keep going from dawn till dusk like he can.’
Grete laughed, giving Erik a little push with her fingertips. ‘He’s as mischievous as his grandfather.’ It was good to see them interacting with some of their old closeness.
Josefin took Astrid up to the playroom so she wouldn’t disturb Alvin’s nap, and Grete went to talk to Gwen, probably armed with yet another shopping list as she thought of treats that might be desired by members of the family arriving on Sunday.
Mats crossed an ankle over the other knee to support the arm cradling Alvin. Erik made coffee and then returned to the table. ‘We should talk about work.’ He smiled at Alvin, pink-cheeked in sleep.
Mats stifled a sigh. He’d been enjoying not even thinking about work – apart from the small tasks he’d taken on to please Ezz. ‘I need to be more available to my children,’ he said bluntly. ‘If I have to keep working such long hours, then you’d better replace me.’ It felt less aggressive than saying: I’ll leave.
But Erik only nodded. ‘You must get your priorities right.’
Mats felt as if the whole of Rothach Hall held its breath in shock. He stared at his father, who was still gazing down at Alvin. He’d expected an explosion, or at least a warning rumble. Agreement threw him. Cautiously, he tried to be clearer, in case Erik hadn’t properly understood. ‘I want to be home to put my children to bed regularly, and even early enough to build a snowman or watch a swimming lesson.’
‘Your little ones are important.’ Erik sipped his coffee, and the rich aroma wafted to Mats. Then, with an air of self-consciousness, Erik added, ‘I am to cut my hours too.’
Mats’ heart flipped right over at this welcome news. ‘Seriously? To be with Mum?’
‘Well, I don’t like being without her.’ Erik sipped more coffee and then smacked his lips. ‘She said I made work everything. If that were true, I wouldn’t have missed her so much. And I missed her so much.’
Mats reached out and clasped Erik’s shoulder, still firm and strong even at Erik’s age of seventy-one. His father was one of the most vital men Mats knew, yet apparently a lesser person without his soulmate beside him. ‘That’s great, Dad. Mum’s been low without you.’
Erik looked gratified. ‘That’s something.’
Then Mats’ phone beeped, and Alvin woke up, twisted in Mats’ arms and blinked at his father and grandfather. ‘Text,’ he announced accurately, slipping instantly from sleep to waking, despite rumpled hair and heavy eyes.
‘Clever boy.’ Mats read the text. ‘Mummy’s ready to FaceTime. Shall we find Astrid?’
‘Yeah!’ Alvin wriggled from Mats’ lap. They left Erik to join Grete in the lounge before the cosy fire and the shimmering Christmas tree, while they climbed the stairs together. Soon, they’d collected Astrid from the playroom and were snuggled together on Astrid’s bed, Mats’ iPad propped up by a cushion on his legs.
When Inger appeared on the screen, the sky was blue behind her head and her bare shoulders looked tanned above a yellow top. She cooed, ‘Oh, darlings, how lovely to see you.’ The children instantly fell back into Swedish, and Mats listened to them outdo each other with stories of the woods, ponies, sausages and all the joys that floated to the tops of their young minds.
‘The beach,’ Alvin shouted, scrambling to his knees, obviously bursting with the need to be first on the topic. ‘We went to the beach, and it rained stones.’
Astrid laughed. ‘They were hailstones,’ she clarified. ‘And they hurt. Ezz was there with Barnaby – we looked at his fish, but it wasn’t really his fish, because it came from the sea – so we all ran into her house. No,’ she corrected herself, ‘her sister’s house. It’s very dirty and doesn’t have anything in it.’
Inger laughed, white teeth flashing. ‘That’s a strange house.’
‘Barnaby’s mother, Valentina, has bought a cottage to do up,’ Mats put in. ‘It’s not at its best.’ And he wished like hell that he hadn’t visited it, because then he couldn’t have blabbed Ezz’s secret to her sister and ballsed things up.
Inger didn’t show much interest in the property. Probably ‘cottage’ didn’t sound grand enough. ‘So, how old is Barnaby? Is he a new friend?’
The children agreed that he was, and Mats interpolated, ‘He’s about Astrid’s age.’
‘And if Valentina’s Barnaby’s mummy, who is Ezz?’ Inger shifted in her seat, and the backdrop became the quay of a marina briefly, then settled back to being a cloudless blue sky.
Astrid looked at Mats for guidance. Ezz was just Ezz, he guessed, so far as Astrid was concerned. He supplied, ‘She’s the manager at the hall. You probably met her when she was assistant manager. Barnaby’s her nephew. They were playing on the beach at the same time we were, and then the hailstorm began, so we all sheltered for a few minutes.’ To turn the subject as he wasn’t particularly mad on discussing with his ex-wife the woman he’d just slept with, he asked, ‘Still in Tunisia?’
‘We turned north, so we’re in Sardinia now.’ Inger waved an airy hand at scenery they couldn’t see. ‘Then it’s Corsica and Monaco. Andreas has friends in Monte Carlo, and they’ve invited us to their villa. They own a lovely restaurant where the Formula One drivers go. Monaco’s filled with rich people because it’s a tax haven.’ Inger sounded very used to Andreas’ privileged way of life now.
Alvin jumped back into the conversation. ‘We saw the ponies today. One’s a donkey.’
Mats didn’t bother pointing out the difference between ponies and donkeys, but let the children chatter about the sea, ponies, donkeys, gulls, fish, the hall, the village, the snow-topped mountains and the wintry weather.
He listened idly, an arm around each child, thinking that luxurious as Inger’s surroundings appeared, he was happier squashed up on a couple of pillows with the two most amazing little people on the planet.
He was even happier when they reached the conclusion of the call without Inger once again mentioning him bringing the kids for Christmas.