Chapter 1
1
FEbrUARY 2024
Even now, after eleven months of working as PA to Lady Olivia MacLeod, née MacBain, the heiress and owner of Drumblair Castle, Esme still buzzed with excitement as she walked away from the castle down the long tree-lined driveway after work. The job had turned out to be so much more than a typical PA role and her level of responsibility was increasing month on month, just like her job satisfaction. Okay, it wasn’t her original dream of becoming an award-winning actor, but it still meant something and she was well respected in the Drumblair household. Lady Olivia made it known often that Esme was an important cog in the machine that was the stunning castle.
Lady Olivia had inherited Drumblair instead of her older brother Kerr MacBain and had set out to open the ancient building to the public to pay for its upkeep. The castle was now a massively successful business which was expanding each month thanks to Olivia’s unique ideas; the latest of which had been the barn conversion that had been opened as creative spaces for artists to come and work and hold exhibitions. Olivia had her own studio on the upper floor of the barn and had, just prior to her daughter Freya’s birth in December 2023, made a return to the fashion design career she had so passionately loved before her surprise inheritance.
Esme discovered – from other staff members – that Kerr had disappeared a short while after the will had been read after causing trouble relating to the inheritance. He had felt, quite strongly by all accounts, that the castle was rightfully his, but his mother had evidently thought otherwise and, therefore, a deep rift had formed between the siblings.
Kerr was now back in the family fold, however, and seemed to be making amends. He had found a passion for arboriculture and had retrained and was now in charge of the plant nursery that had been a part of the castle’s estate for many years. He was making a huge success out of it too.
Esme had heard – although she wasn’t one to gossip, unlike some of the staff – that she had been employed to replace the woman who’d previously been Olivia’s PA. The reason being, said woman had broken Kerr’s heart and announced that she was, in fact, the mother of a child he didn’t even know he had fathered around fourteen years before. Honestly, you couldn’t write this stuff , Esme had thought on hearing the gory details of the MacBain family drama. Olivia was such a compassionate and caring person and had taken the decision to let her PA go in favour of her brother’s wellbeing; an admirable thing to do, Esme thought, especially after the other rumours she had heard about his many attempts to sabotage her plans for the castle.
Along with the art barn, house tours and nursery was another upcoming venture. Both Olivia’s husband Brodie and her Uncle Innes were knee deep in preparations to open Drumblair Castle distillery in another of the larger, newly converted outbuildings. After he and Olivia had got together, Brodie had taken on the role of site manager for the castle, ensuring repairs were carried out, but more recently the distillery had become his pet project and when he wasn’t looking after his daughter or spending time with his wife, he could often be seen with his nose in a book about whisky. He oozed enthusiasm when he talked about the distillery and he and Innes were a little like kids about to be let loose in a candy store. Drumblair’s own whisky was a long way off, however, as single malt had to undergo a maturation of a minimum three years – something Esme already knew thanks to her dad’s job – so Drumblair Gin was to be launched first, followed by a whisky blend. In the meantime, the next, even more exciting event was due to begin.
During the previous year, the castle had been scouted as a filming location for a Georgian-era movie called An Unlikely Inheritance which was about a woman whose story bore a striking resemblance to that of Lady Olivia. The original start date for filming had been delayed out of respect when Olivia had gone into labour a little earlier than expected and baby Freya June MacLeod – named after both Olivia’s and Brodie’s mothers – had been born just before Christmas and two weeks before she was due. But things were now on track and the crew were set to arrive imminently.
Through conversations, Esme could tell Olivia was both worried and excited about the shoot in equal measure. She knew that the sizeable sum the castle was set to receive, and the publicity, would be wonderful for business but she had also mentioned concern about her ancestral home feeling like it no longer belonged to her during filming. It would be more intrusive than the house tours which had limited access to the more private areas.
She was also worried about the safety of the valuable furniture pieces and artwork that could easily be damaged by ill-placed equipment. And then of course the other matter was ‘movie tourists’ when the film was released. Esme had tried her best to ease Olivia’s mind, assuring her that locations were always treated with the utmost respect from what she had read.
All of the stable apartments had been booked out for the duration of the three-month shoot, and the café would be doing much of the catering, so it had been an opportunity too good to pass up. There was also a buzz around the village about the film with many residents hoping to spot, and even fraternise with, the stars, and local businesses hoping they too would see a return on the emotional investment Olivia was making.
For Esme, however, it was going to be bittersweet. On one hand she would witness, first hand, what a real working movie set would be like, but on the other she would witness, first hand, the career she had dreamed about since childhood, and missed out on.
* * *
Every day at Drumblair was different for Esme. One day she would be taking bookings for the art space and dealing with enquiries, another she would be in contact with the production team of the film, and another she would be carrying out interviews for staff in Olivia’s stead. The variety made it exciting and never did she feel like just an assistant .
In addition to the immense job satisfaction she had discovered while working for Lady Olivia, Esme had made a whole new friendship group, something she had missed since everyone from high school had moved away to start new lives and careers, and they had all lost touch. These days she looked forward to lunch breaks with her closest friend, Parker Duff, the marketing assistant who had started his role at Drumblair on the same day she had, and they had become fast friends. All she needed now was enough money to buy a car, so she didn’t have to rely on her parents or public transport, but after her travels her savings had been completely wiped out and she’d had to start from scratch. A car was a little way off yet and she was saving every penny she could, much to Parker’s dismay. He was continually trying to cajole her into attending the work nights out, but she rarely made it.
Behind her now, the castle was illuminated by the amber glow of spotlights as the sun was on its descent, taking with it any semblance of warmth. She pulled her jacket higher up around her neck and continued to make her way to the bus stop as her breath clouded before her in the crisp early-evening February air.
‘Esme! Wait up! I’ll walk with you!’ a male voice called from behind her. She turned to see Parker jogging towards her.
‘No car today?’ she asked.
‘Nah. Dad had to borrow mine as his is in for repairs and he was going to see my granny,’ he replied, a little out of breath when he arrived beside her. ‘How has today been for you?’
‘Full on! Baby Freya has been a bit feverish, and Olivia ended up taking her to the doctor, she was sure she was just suffering “new mum syndrome” but said she wouldn’t rest until the baby was checked out, so I was holding the fort for a while.’
Parker’s face crumpled with concern. ‘Oh, no, poor wee Freya. I’ve never known such a quiet and happy baby so it must have been worrying if she’s been off it. I think I’d be at the GP’s office every time my baby so much as sneezed if I had one.’
Esme giggled. ‘Me too. I’m not sure how new parents cope. Thankfully they were sent home again as it was nothing serious, but Olivia was exhausted from worry and a sleepless night, so Brodie ordered her to rest. Can’t say I blame him; she needs her strength.’ As they walked towards the bus stop at the end of the lane, Esme inhaled the bracing air, filling her lungs and smiling to herself at the lack of fumes she’d no doubt be inhaling in most other places. ‘The phones have been manic today. So many artists asking questions about the barn spaces but they’re all fully booked into the late spring and we’re having to limit changeovers with the filming taking place, so I’ve had to disappoint a fair few people. Anyway, how’s your day been?’
‘Oh, great. Really, really great. I was dealing with some well-known social media influencers today about the promotions we’re commissioning for the new season, although it’s probably not necessary thanks to the film but I’m not admitting that to Lady Olivia.’ He chuckled and then sighed. ‘It’s a bit of a dream come true, working here, isn’t it?’
Esme smiled as she glanced over her shoulder at the vast stone structure slowly receding into the distance, its frost-covered exterior glistening in the light of the setting sun. ‘It is. I used to dream of living here when I was little.’
Parker shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose working here is the next best thing!’ Her mum’s exact words rang from his mouth. ‘Are you looking forward to the am dram auditions next week?’ Esme had joined the Inverness Amateur Dramatics Society soon after meeting Parker, and even though it wasn’t quite the movie career she had envisaged for herself she was excited to be acting again. Parker had insisted he came along for moral support, and they had both had minor parts in the previous Christmas production which had been such fun. Esme had played a fairy and Parker an elf in a production written by their director.
‘You really need to show them what you’re made of, you know. You’re far better than all of them put together and I think you’d make such a good Juliet. Although I fear your Romeo might be limited to Bryce Roberts and he has slightly fewer teeth than I imagine Romeo would have. He’s no Leo DiCaprio, that’s for sure.’ He chuckled. ‘And I’m not sure a gay Romeo would work so I’m out of the equation. I think I’ll audition for Mercutio so I can play it like Harrold Perrineau did in the original movie.’
Esme giggled. ‘You do know the Leonardo DiCaprio version isn’t the original , don’t you? I mean, you do know Shakespeare wrote the play in the 1500s, don’t you? Before film was invented.’
Parker rolled his eyes and nudged her with his shoulder. ‘Well, obvs. But it’s the best version in my opinion, that’s what I meant. Anyway, enough ribbing me, Miss Oscar-Winner-to-be. A few of the café staff and tour guides are going for drinks at the Drumblair Arms on Friday. Paisley is going too. Are you in?’
Christmas wasn’t yet a distant enough memory and she had spent rather too much on gifts for her parents and Betty, so cash was a little tight. ‘Erm… Oh, I don’t know… I mean, I’m a bit skint.’
‘Oh, come on, Esme! We all need to let our hair down sometimes. You hardly ever come out with us, so you miss out on all the good gossip.’ As if noticing the disapproval in her expression, he added, ‘Not that I’m condoning the gossip, of course. What I mean is simply that you’d learn so much more about the place from those on the frontline so to speak. And even though we’re work besties, I feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you, even after all this time,’ he said, linking arms with her. ‘I’ve already info dumped on you about Benoit, but I’ve barely heard anything saucy about your love life, so you need to come out and drink enough so you’ll loosen up and tell me your secrets.’ He gave a theatrical wink.
‘The reason being it’s non-existent,’ she replied.
In spite of the fact Parker was indeed a gossip of the highest order, she had immediately liked him when they had been introduced on their first morning and the feeling had been mutual, much to her relief. They shared a love of all things Taylor Swift which had bonded them immediately, along with their mutual adoration of their dogs and their love for amateur dramatics. Parker was slightly younger than her, having finished his degree more recently. He was tall, extremely well dressed and very smiley. His strawberry-blond hair was neatly cropped, and his green eyes sparkled with humour and mischief.
The info dump he had mentioned had occurred one lunchtime during their first week when Esme had discovered Parker was back living with his parents too after returning from uni. Like her he too had a dog; a chihuahua called Gladys that he had acquired surreptitiously under the radar of his former landlord at the flat he was living in during his degree. Gladys had been a rescue whose former owner had surrendered due to her ‘being far too dramatic and needy’. Parker too had a tendency for theatrics, so their personalities were well matched in her opinion. Although Esme adored Betty, she wasn’t planning on dressing her up in silly little outfits, however, unlike Parker did with Gladys.
‘Please come. Benoit was supposed to be visiting this weekend, but his flatmate had the flu and has kindly passed it on, so he feels like death on a stick, bless his heart.’ He rolled his eyes and curled his lips downwards, clearly disgruntled with the state of things. Parker was in a long-term, long-distance relationship with a man called Benoit Barbier whom he had met during his first year at university. Benoit had returned home to Normandy after graduation but visited as often as his work would allow. When Esme didn’t reply, he nudged her. ‘You wouldn’t abandon your work bestie on another staff night out, would you?’ He stuck out his bottom lip and fluttered his eyelashes. ‘You can come and stay at mine after, my folks are going away to visit my aunty in Yorkshire. And Gladys would love to see you. She adores you, you know.’
Esme rolled her eyes at the attempted guilt trip. ‘Oh, good grief, I’ll come.’ She laughed.
Parker clapped his hands. ‘Yay!’
* * *
When Esme arrived home to her parents’ house in Dores, Betty greeted with her usual excited yips and her curly tail wagging frantically. She lifted the little dog into her arms, and Betty licked her chin before she nuzzled the dog’s soft fur.
Her mum and dad were both waiting at the kitchen table for her. ‘Had a good day, pet?’ her dad asked in a hopeful tone.
She beamed. ‘Yeah, really good. Great, in fact. I was sort of in charge today as Lady O had to take baby Freya to the doctor.’
Sally gasped. ‘Oh, no, is everything okay with the bairn?’
Esme nodded. ‘All good. Just a temperature. She’s home again now.’
Sally smiled. ‘That’s a relief.’
Esme placed Betty on the floor and grabbed a biscuit from the plate on the kitchen table. As she munched on it, she broke off a little piece and offered it to Betty who took it greedily. ‘I still can’t believe I get to see all the bits of the castle the public don’t get to see. It’s quite surreal but amazing,’ she announced with a wistful sigh.
‘Grand… grand,’ her dad said before her parents exchanged furtive glances.
Sensing something was amiss, Esme swallowed the crumbled baked oats that suddenly rasped like sandpaper in her throat, and glanced between them. ‘What’s up? You’re both looking shifty. What’s happened?’
Her mum pushed up from the table and walked over to the worktop to pick up an envelope. ‘There’s… erm… there’s been a letter for you.’
Esme chuckled. ‘Oh? Why do you look so worried? Is it from the tax office?’
Sally sighed. ‘Your dad didn’t think we should give it to you what with everything going so well for you at the castle now, but I think you have a right to see it.’
Esme scoffed. ‘Of course I’ve a right to see it if it’s addressed to me. I presume it is addressed to me?’
Colm rubbed his hands over his face. ‘Aye, it’s addressed to you, pet. I just didn’t think you’d want to be dragged down by the likes of that rat when you’re doing so well with your fresh start.’
Esme felt the colour drain from her face as her heart fought to pump blood back into it. ‘It’s… it’s from Rhys?’ The man she had given her young heart to hadn’t been in touch since the previous February when he had unceremoniously dumped her at the airport, in the most heartless and callous way. And now, in a rather strange turn of events, he had chosen to write via ‘snail mail’ rather than the obvious email that would have arrived sooner. He had often talked about how letter writing was a dying art so she shouldn’t have been surprised really. He felt that a handwritten letter meant more, and was far more personal. This only added to the dread she felt about reading it.
Sally nodded and held out the envelope.
Esme snatched it and, with a pounding heart, pushed past her mum to go up to her bedroom as Betty followed on hurriedly, her little nails tap tapping on the hard wood flooring of the hallway. There was no way she was reading a letter from her ex in front of her parents. All that would do would be to fuel the fire already burning in her dad’s gut about how the older man had treated her and how he wanted to ‘punch his lights out’.
Once in her room and the door closed firmly behind her, she dropped her bag onto cream carpet and walked over to her dressing table. The familiar green eyes peering back at her in the ornate cream-framed mirror were circled with shadows; a feature she had acquired since her break-up that had only begun to fade recently. She still clutched the envelope, the crumpled paper spiking into the palm of her hand to match the pain that had appeared in her chest. She slumped onto her bed beside Betty, who had lain down in her usual spot, and glanced at the offending article which did, indeed, display Rhys’s handwriting, and the postmark was, of course, Sydney.
After staring blankly at the scrawled script for a few moments, she tentatively tore open the flap at the back as if it might contain one of those snakes that jumps from the cans you buy at joke shops. She opened up the sheet of paper and began to read:
Dear Sweet Esme
I know things ended abruptly between us last year and for that I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that this letter has been such a long time coming. But I had to let you readjust to your old life until such time as I knew this letter wouldn’t make you miss me all over again as I’ve missed you. I also felt it was time I explained my actions. I chose to write it down on paper as, well, first of all you know my thoughts on the impersonality of emails, and by its very nature this is incredibly personal. And second, more selfishly I suppose, the process is quite cathartic for me.
I know back at the start, when we first met, I said I wasn’t ready to have children and be a husband again just yet, and that there was no pressure on you, but the thing is, I realised I am ready to settle down and be a father after all. You’re still young, and from our conversations I knew that being tied to dirty nappies and sleepless nights wasn’t something you’d be looking for at this point in your life, or at least it shouldn’t be. So, it was better to end things before we fell too deeply. This way we can both look for someone who will give us what we each need. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me, and I’d hate to think I’d put you off love forever or something crazy like that.
If you’d been older or I’d been younger things would have been so different. But I did care deeply for you, Esme. I hope you know that. I can’t get the look on your face at the airport out of my head even now. And I hated that I’d put it there. But I did it all for the best reasons, please know that. I know I seemed cruel. But it felt like the right way to deal with the situation. If you hated me it would be easier to say goodbye. I do regret the way I handled things, though. And I hope someday you can forgive me.
I’m sure your folks hate my guts, and I can’t say I blame them. They seemed like such great people when they flew out to visit. I reckon me and your dad could’ve been good mates. But that’s maybe the issue. I’m closer to his age than to yours. The age difference was never an issue until I realised I wanted a family of my own and I couldn’t imagine you wanting the same thing. I didn’t address the matter with you because I didn’t want to risk you agreeing to settle down with me when you had such a bright future ahead of you. You may have ended up regretting that and resenting me and I didn’t want to put either of us in that position. You have a long life ahead of you before you should think about kids and marriage, and I couldn’t ask you to forgo what’s left of your youth. So, admittedly it was cowardly, but easier for me not to discuss it.
The age gap became this big deal. It took on a life of its own and I couldn’t get past it. Every minute we spent together then just highlighted our differences. I tried to ignore it, hoping my feelings would change but I’m not getting any younger and I realised I don’t want to wait ten years and be a new dad in my late forties. I think part of the wakeup call came after I had been offered the job. You see, I found out through a mutual friend in the industry that my ex-wife is married and had just found out she was pregnant. The news tugged at me in a way I didn’t expect. I didn’t mention that at the time as, again, I didn’t want you to feel pressured and agree you’d have my baby for the wrong reasons. My heart and my head were all over the place, still are really. I’m just sorry I dragged you down with me.
I know this is probably of no help at all but I needed to give you a proper explanation now I have had plenty of time to reflect on my awful actions. I really do hope you find someone your own age who makes you happy and who loves you as much as you deserve to be loved.
Take care
Rhys
Esme stared at the words on the page through blurry eyes as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Betty, sensitive soul that she was, nuzzled her arm and Esme immediately scooped her up and nuzzled her fur as anger and sadness knotted her stomach. How dare he waste a year of her life? How dare he say one thing and then change his mind when she had already fallen for him? And how dare he wait over a year to write to her and apologise – if that’s what you could call it. It sounded more like a raft of excuses to her. Excuses not to be with her.
The thing that pained her more than anything was that she would’ve been happy to have his child in a few years. Surely he could have waited. If he had proposed, she would have said yes without hesitation. But he hadn’t even given her the opportunity. He made the decision for her. For both of them. Treating her like the child he almost accused her of being. The fact turned her stomach and made more tears fall.
There was a gentle knock at the door, and it opened before she could ask for privacy.
‘Hey, love, are you okay?’
Do I bloody look okay? Guilt tugged at her heart even though she hadn’t said a word. She nodded. ‘I’m fine… well, maybe not exactly fine but I will be.’
‘What has he said? He hasn’t asked you to go back to him, has he?’
‘No, Mum, quite the opposite. He’s doubled down on his decision to end things between us.’ She stared at the pink furry slippers by her dressing table. They reminded her of something a five-year-old would wear and anger bubbled up again. ‘While you’re up here, I need to say something.’
Her mum reached for her hand and took it. ‘What can I do for you, sweetheart? Anything to make the pain go away. It’s so hard seeing my baby girl like this.’
Esme snatched her hand away. ‘That’s just it, Mum. I’m not a baby. I’m an adult. I can’t carry on behaving like the little girl everyone perceives me to be.’
‘No, love, I didn’t mean?—’
‘Dad was going to hide my mail from me. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? My bedroom still looks almost the same as it did when I was at school, right down to the posters. It’s like some kind of shrine to my childhood and I’ve been too lazy to do anything about it but now is the time, Mum. You chose my degree course for me when I wanted to do something completely different with my life.’
‘You can decorate if you want to, it’s just never come up before.’ A wide-eyed, panicked expression took over her mum’s features. ‘And we only wanted what was best for your future, Esme.’
‘But that’s it. It’s my future, Mum. I’ve just turned twenty-four years old. I should be out there making my own life. Not letting you cook and clean for me and have Dad give me lifts to meet my friends. You know, Rhys mentioned our age gap so many times in that letter that it makes me sick to my stomach. I need to stand on my own two feet.’
‘But you travelled Asia and Australia, love, you are standing on your own two feet. And you don’t need to prove anything to that… to that…’
Esme shook her head and swiped the moisture from her face. ‘No. I travelled with Rhys. A man who wanted to look after me because that’s the vibe I must be giving off to the world. But I don’t need to be looked after. And he’s made it quite clear that he thinks I’m too immature to be married and have kids so I may as well get out there and bloody live a little.’
‘Wait, at the start he told you he didn’t want kids. That’s why me and your dad—’ She clamped her mouth shut.
Esme glared at her. ‘That’s why you and Dad what?’
Sally smoothed down the fabric of her black linen trousers and sighed deeply. ‘That’s why me and your dad relaxed over the age gap thing. We were so worried he’d trap you if he was the settling down type. That he’d pressure you and you’d end up tied down to a baby and a house on the other side of the world. We wanted different things for you. Dad and I were so young when we had you that we wanted you to have a life before you had all this,’ she gestured around the room, ‘to contend with. But when he said he didn’t want kids we were… well, relieved, I suppose. We actually thought you’d be the one to get tired of him and end things between you.’
Esme stood and turned to face her mother where she sat on the pale pink floral bedspread. ‘You’re as bad as Rhys. You all keep making decisions for me, and the stupid thing is I keep allowing you to. But these are my mistakes to make, not yours. Well, no more. I’m looking for my own place. I need my independence, Mum.’
Her mum’s chin trembled. ‘We only ever wanted what was best for you, love.’
There was that guilt again, drip, drip, dripping into her mind. She sat beside her mum again and put her arm around her. ‘I know you do. And I’m grateful. I really am. I know I’m very lucky to have such caring parents. But if this thing with Rhys has taught me anything it’s that I need to grow up. I can’t hide behind you and Dad forever.’