Chapter 28
LACHLAN
This wasn’t exactly the subtle, low-key arrival that Lachlan had hoped for.
The plan – as much as he’d had one – had been to quietly arrive at the party, unobtrusively track down Alyssa, then have a quick, but quiet chat with her and be out and on the way to the airport ten minutes after he’d arrived.
Instead, he’d walked into the small Scottish village equivalent of Mardi Gras.
A couple of guests at the door had pointed him in the direction of the kitchen, and he’d very politely worked his way through the room, dodging tables, swerving round people singing at the top of their voices, then skirting past a crowd that were doing some kind of synchronised dance.
All of a sudden, he’d made a wrong move, and his path had been inadvertently blocked by a crowd of older women, one with a blonde bob, who’d somehow – and until the end of time, he would refuse to replay the memory of this – coerced him into staying on the dance floor until the end of the song.
Thankfully, it was mercifully short, and when the music had stopped, he’d spotted the door behind the counter, taken a few steps towards it, when the lights had gone down and the whole room had erupted into a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’.
At this point, his will to live had deserted him, and he’d had to stand there, reluctantly joining in, while Alyssa brought out a cake and did a whole birthday candle-blow out thing. Then the lady who was having the party burst into tears, gave a sobbing speech of thanks and everyone clapped.
Everyone, that is, except Alyssa, who was staring at him with unmistakable fury, while holding a cake in the shape of a hairdryer. And now, as the applause subsided, he was questioning both his choice to come here and his sanity.
With a subtle nod to the side, Alyssa gestured to the door behind the counter, her meaning clear. As the music started up again, and the party resumed, he followed her and she led him into a room at the back that was obviously the kitchen and prep area.
Alyssa had just put the cake down when her sister stormed in, saying, ‘Lyss, I could swear I just saw that prick from earlier and…’ She spotted him and went with an admirably direct, ‘Yup, he’s here.’
He decided that brevity was the route to take. ‘Hi.’
Alyssa looked so much wearier than the fired-up version he’d met earlier, but still she took the lead. ‘Are you here to tell me that you’ve had a change of heart and I can keep my café?’
‘No. Sorry. I’m?—’
She cut him dead. ‘Then please don’t take this the wrong way, but piss off. Truly. I have about a hundred guests out there, a party to run, a cake to cut, I’ve had the shittiest day of my life and I don’t have the energy for you.’
He hadn’t come all this way to give up without trying to do something positive for her though, even if it was just giving her all the facts.
‘I understand. I swear I do. But I just need ten minutes of your time to explain a few things. And I’d come back when you’re less busy, but I’m flying home in a couple of hours, so I need to get to the airport.
And trust me when I say I don’t intend to return for a very long time. Like, when hell freezes over.’
Something in his voice – probably sad desperation – must have struck a chord with them because he caught the glance that went between the sisters, and they seemed to reach some kind of silent agreement.
‘Okay, have a seat,’ the younger one said, as they pulled out chairs on the other side of the table and sat down.
He searched the memory of this crap day for her name.
Ginny. That was it. She reminded him of Margaux.
Funny. Quick. Quirky. Bold in all the good ways.
Especially – going by the hostility her gaze was throwing in his direction – when defending the people she loved.
‘Ten minutes,’ Alyssa said. ‘And I need to cut this cake while we’re speaking or there’ll be a mutiny out there.’
‘That’s all I need,’ he promised, pulling out a chair opposite them. ‘First, I want to apologise for earlier. You caught me off guard, and I handled it really badly.’
‘You did,’ Ginny agreed.
‘So I wanted to explain why I couldn’t help, and I’ll just give you the important details – if there’s anything else you want to know, just stop me.’
Neither of them spoke so he carried on.
‘I flew up here this morning for the reading of my dad’s will. There are three beneficiaries to my dad’s estate: his second wife, my brother, Jason, and me.’
He thought he saw a flicker of recognition in Alyssa’s face when he said Jason’s name, so perhaps she’d done some research.
‘The majority of the estate was left to my dad’s wife…’
‘Your stepmother,’ Ginny corrected him .
‘Yeah, I guess. I’ve never thought of her that way – probably because I’m thirty-four and she’s only a year older. Dad only married her a few years ago, and they lived abroad, so I’ve only met her a couple of times.’
He paused for questions but there were none, so he carried on.
‘Anyway, we only found out this morning that this building was left to my brother and me. Like I said, I had no idea my dad owned it. I can’t remember if I told you this earlier, but apparently, he bought this place as a gift for my mum on her fortieth birthday because it had such sentimental value for her. ’
‘That is so romantic,’ Ginny conceded. ‘Better than bed socks and a box of Quality Street.’ Something in her tone told him that one came from experience.
‘Yes, I guess it was. When my mum died, everything she had was left to Dad, and now he has passed this place on to us, with instructions to sell it and split the proceeds between us. I’m pretty sure my dad made that clear in case my brother and I disagreed on what to do with it.
My brother wants it sold immediately and, for his own reasons, won’t delay under any circumstances, won’t negotiate and won’t consider any other options.
I promise I tried. I even went to his house tonight to ask him to cancel or postpone the sale, but he wouldn’t budge. ’
‘Even though his own brother was asking him?’ Alyssa had sliced half the cake while he’d been speaking.
‘My brother and I… we don’t have a good relationship. Or any relationship for that matter.’ He was trying to be as discreet as possible on that one because talking about his personal issues made him squirm.
‘Why?’ Ginny asked, clearly not sharing his boundaries. He couldn’t tell them. Wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. But …
‘Because six weeks after my fiancée and I split, he swept in and now they’re married.’
Ginny gasped. ‘No way! Lyss, if you do that to me and Caden I’ll never forgive you.’
Alyssa ignored her and spoke to him. ‘I’m sorry. That’s a shitty thing to go through.’
He shrugged, desperate to get off the subject of his private life.
‘It is what it is. Anyway, I just wanted to give you the bottom line. The building is worth ￡360K. He reckons he has a buyer who will offer that for it next week and turn it into flats. The only way to avoid this is to buy it before then. It’s the only option. ’
‘Unless I won the lottery tonight, I don’t have that kind of money. And I’d only get a mortgage for a fraction of that.’ Alyssa slumped back in her chair. ‘There must be a way to fight this.’
Lachlan felt awful for her, but there was no point fudging the truth.
‘I wish it were different, but if you fight it, the reality is that it’ll cost you money, time and so much stress and you’ll lose anyway, because he has the resources and he’s ruthless.
I’m so sorry. I swear if there was anything I could do, I would. ’
Silence. More silence. Before either of them could find the words to respond, a woman in a tight red dress came to the doorway.
‘There’s no wine left, and I’m getting ready to riot.’ Even to the untrained eye, the slur and the animated mannerisms would indicate that she’d imbibed a considerable amount of the missing wine.
Alyssa sighed and spoke to him as she stood up. ‘Okay, Mum. Lachlan, give us two minutes. Ginny, you grab the cake, and I’ll get the wine.’
While they were gone, he had a quick glance around and saw how much work and care had gone into this kitchen.
It was spotlessly clean, and the yellow walls looked as if they were freshly painted, while the pale wood floor was either new or just scrupulously maintained.
The cupboard style was dated, and the appliances weren’t top of the range, like the kind of high-end brands that he’d installed in Dax Price’s house.
Dax hadn’t fried an egg or switched on an oven in his life, yet apparently it was essential that he had a La Cornue range, a snip at just under ￡10K.
However, what this kitchen had was lots of personal touches and it was obvious that the people who worked here took pride in it, which made him feel yet another level of crap over what was happening to them.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time – almost 9.
30p.m. He had just over an hour to get to the airport before his gate closed.
It was a twenty-minute drive, and the car hire drop off was a two-minute walk from the terminal building, so as long as the snow had been cleared from the roads, he would still make it if he left in the next ten minutes.
He was about to put his phone back in his pocket when he noticed a voice message notification. He clicked on it and saw it was from Dax Price. There was still no sign of Alyssa, so he pressed PLAY.
‘Mate, got your message. Need to postpone the job this week. Looks like the fuckers might be selling me to Milan. Flying there tomorrow morning for talks, back Friday. Will buzz you when I’m sorted and I know the score. Cheers, bro.’
He’d just locked his phone again when Alyssa and Ginny came back in.
‘Sorry about that,’ Alyssa apologised, and he wanted to say that she was the last person that should be saying sorry to him.
‘That’s okay.’ He stood up, ready to get out of there and fairly convinced they’d be happy to see the back of him too. ‘I’m going to go. I’m sorry again about all of this. I wish it wasn’t happening, honestly. ’
‘Makes two of us,’ Alyssa replied, but there was no aggression or reprimand in her tone, just sadness.
‘I’ve left my mobile number on the napkin there. If you get a lawyer, and you need any more information, or if there’s anything else I can do, just call me.’
He couldn’t think what help he could give, but it didn’t feel right leaving without offering.
Alyssa somehow managed to be gracious. He wasn’t sure he’d do the same if the roles were reversed. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. And, you know, about the “piss off” comment. It’s been a long day.’
She looked as exhausted as he felt, and he hated that his family had caused that.
‘I get it. I’d have told me to piss off too.’ He took a step towards the door but was immediately blocked by the arrival of the older man who’d been at the microphone singing ‘Happy Birthday’ earlier.
The gent staggered a little as he crossed to the table, clasped onto the back of one of the chairs, supporting his weight before he dropped down onto the seat. His breathing was laboured and there was no mistaking the sheen of sweat on his face, or the hand that was circling his chest.
Alyssa jumped up, her face a mask of panic. ‘Grandad! Are you okay? You’re sweating! Were you dancing?’
The man managed to shake his head but still struggled to catch his breath.
‘Oh God, Grandad, are you having a heart attack? Are you having chest pains? Ginny, run out to the square and get the defib from the front of the community centre while I call an ambulance.’
‘Alyssa!’
For someone who was having a heart attack, Lachlan decided the grandad’s voice was pretty strong.
‘I’m fine, pet. Just give me a minute to get my breath back.
I’m not having a heart attack.’ He took a couple of deep breaths before going on.
‘I’ve just been chasing the Nesbit triplets.
I spotted them outside at some big Range Rover and the wee buggers have let down the tyres of every car in the street. ’
Lachlan took in this information, glanced at his watch and then sat back down.
A minute ago, he’d calculated that he only had an hour to get to the airport.
Now it was pretty clear he wasn’t going anywhere.