Chapter 34
Gavin hadn’t changed that much. He was older, of course, but weren’t they all?
He had a bit more grey in his hair, a few more lines around his mouth and eyes, a bigger paunch than he used to have, but basically he was still Gavin.
Still the man who’d been his brother-in-law for years. Who used to be one of his best friends.
Mac held out his hand to shake and Gavin laughed and pulled him close for a hug, clapping him on the back.
‘Bloody handshake, you daft bugger! How long have we known each other?’ He sat down in the armchair opposite Mac and gazed around him. ‘Where have you brought me to? Bit boring, isn’t it?’
They were in a hotel in Hull. Gavin had sounded delighted when Mac called him a few days ago, and told Mac he’d be happy to meet him on Saturday, and could they meet in the city because he was catching a train up to Puffin Point later – a little problem with too many speeding points on his driving licence which was bloody inconvenient – and it would be easier to meet near the station, away from… everything.
He hadn’t been specific, but the implication had been that he didn’t want to bump into Stella.
Mac had suggested this hotel because it wasn’t far from the interchange and there was free parking, and because Alison had once mentioned that it did a good selection of non-alcoholic beers and offered a fine choice of coffees, which he thought would come in useful should he decide he’d prefer a hot drink.
‘That’s because I’m boring, too,’ he told Gavin.
‘Give over! Ian MacMillan, boring? No way.’
‘Mac,’ he said wearily, wondering when he’d ever get to stop correcting people about that.
‘Oh yes. Crystal did mention. She said you were looking well and she’s right. A damn sight better than the last time I saw you anyway.’
The last time they’d met, Mac had been a sobbing, broken mess. He’d just learned that Lynne had moved in with Terry, and his children were now under his ex-best friend’s care as well as his roof.
‘It’s all my fault. All my fault,’ he’d wept as Gavin had put him to bed on the sofa in his hotel room and told him not to worry and everything would be fine.
By the time Gavin woke up the following morning, Mac had gone – too ashamed to face his brother-in-law and too heartbroken to sit and talk about Lynne’s new relationship, which he knew Stella would want to do the minute she arrived that morning to join Gavin, who was having business meetings in London at the time.
Not that Stella would have been intentionally cruel, but she had a habit of wanting to fix things, and she would believe that she could fix Mac, and in turn, fix his marriage.
Mac knew it was beyond fixing, and he couldn’t deal with going over and over how he needed to sort himself out.
He knew he needed to sort himself out. He just didn’t believe it was possible any more.
‘Yes, well,’ he said now, giving Gavin a wry look, ‘I don’t suppose I could have looked much worse, could I?’
They ordered two coffees, because Gavin simply couldn’t bring himself to even try non-alcoholic beer, and settled down in the armchairs with their hot drinks like, as Gavin put it, a respectable old married couple.
‘How are you doing though?’ Gavin’s tone was gentle. The jokes and smiles had been replaced with genuine concern. ‘Can’t have been easy for you, moving into Watersmeet, especially with your kid sister pulling the purse strings. Bit harsh of your mother to do that to you.’
‘She needed to be certain I didn’t blow the money,’ Mac said with a shrug. ‘I can’t blame her for that.’
Gavin gave him a puzzled look. ‘But if you wanted money, you could sell Watersmeet any time you wanted. There’s nothing to stop you from doing that, as I understand it. It doesn’t make any sense.’
He was right. It didn’t. As Evan had explained, his mother had given Stella control over his inheritance so the two of them had to be in contact. She hadn’t wanted them to lose each other again, because she loved them both so much, and wanted them to stay close.
She’d left Watersmeet itself to him with no strings attached. Nothing to say he couldn’t turf the animals off the land and sell the whole place, lock, stock and barrel.
What made her think he wouldn’t?
But he hadn’t, had he? Because the thought of letting her down after all she’d done for him had been too much to bear. And because the animals depended on him, and Watersmeet was the first place they’d ever been truly loved and cared for.
And because, deep down, he’d fallen in love with the place, and the thought of staying there and making a home for himself – somewhere he could, one day maybe, invite his children to stay – was what kept him going most days.
It was all he’d had to cling on to, until Alison walked back into his life.
And now she was gone, and he couldn’t believe it, and a part of him was terrified.
Because what if the pain of her loss tipped him over the edge once more?
It was what she’d expect, no doubt. Stella.
And maybe even Alison. But she couldn’t stay with him to make sure he didn’t gamble. He wouldn’t want her to.
He just didn’t know how he was going to start over yet again, putting aside the dream he’d begun to build.
The dream he’d begun to believe in. A home, a wife, a family – because Alison came with the whole mad Wainwright clan in tow, he had no doubt about that, and he loved it.
It had all collapsed around his ears, and here he was again.
Just him. Trying to believe he could be better this time.
‘Well,’ he said with a shrug, ‘that’s Mum for you. She must have had her reasons.’
She believed in me. She trusted me. There was no other explanation. Her faith in him was humbling and made him quite emotional. He was relieved when Gavin changed the subject.
‘So, this business venture,’ Gavin said. ‘I like the sound of it very much. It seems to me that you’ve got a good idea there.’
‘It does?’ Mac asked hopefully. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit vague?’
‘Well, a bit, but most business ideas start that way. I think it’s got great potential.
’ He sighed. ‘I can understand the need for it, too. The way the world is today, we all need somewhere we can escape to. Somewhere we can chill out, with no internet, no mobile phone or laptop, no fancy gadgets, and no bloody twenty-four-hour news channels. Just the stars and the river, and peace, and time. I could do with a bit of that myself.’
‘But it’s more than that,’ Mac said. ‘It’s like I told you – so many parents are estranged from their children for whatever reason.
Weekend dads. Parents who work too hard and never get to spend any time with their kids.
Families who’ve lost touch and don’t know how to reconnect.
Watersmeet could be somewhere they come to stay for a few days, and with no other interruptions, they get to talk to each other. ’
‘They can do that in McDonald’s though,’ Gavin said.
Mac laughed. ‘No, they can’t! Not like this anyway.
I was thinking about them sleeping under the stars, sitting round a campfire talking, maybe doing some beach activities, learning to cook together – whatever they feel like.
I was in the Cubs and Scouts long enough.
I could certainly put together some activities that they’d enjoy – all optional of course.
And then there’s the animals. Nothing bonds people more than stroking Highland cattle, or grooming old ponies, or collecting eggs from hens and ducks. ’
He remembered the evenings he’d spent with Alison, leaning on the fence, admiring Ellen MacKenzie and Jamie Fraser.
How they’d ushered the ducks and the hens into their little houses, making sure they were safely shut away for the night.
Checking the old ponies were all right and had enough food and water.
‘It teaches responsibility, too,’ he said. ‘We all need to learn that, don’t we?’
‘So, this “sleeping under the stars” bit. You’re thinking of providing tents?’
‘Possibly,’ Mac said.
‘Sounds a bit grim. Not many people would pay good money to stay under canvas with no mod cons. You’ll need something a bit more glamorous than that if you’re going to make this pay.’
‘Not static caravans,’ Mac said, shaking his head. ‘I’m not having water pipes laid all over the place, and electricity cables, and gas bottles, and cars parked up. Before I knew it, I’d be opening a clubhouse and a launderette.’
‘I wasn’t thinking static caravans,’ Gavin said, waving his hand as if dismissing the idea. ‘You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear on that score.’
‘Glamping pods then? Yurts?’
Gavin rubbed his chin. ‘I was thinking something with a bit of rustic charm. What about shepherd’s huts? You’d need planning permission, of course, because you’re planning to make money from them, but they look really classy.’
‘Shepherd’s huts?’ Mac leaned back and tilted his head, thinking about it. ‘I hadn’t thought…’
‘Well, maybe you should. They’re increasingly popular, you know, and you don’t need to connect them to any mains if you choose off-grid models.
You can make them look smashing inside. I’ve got a pal in the trade who sells them, either ones you put together yourself or ready to move into.
He’d put a few your way, if you’re interested. ’
‘I’m not sure,’ Mac said doubtfully. ‘I mean, they sound great, but they also sound expensive, and I’m not exactly rolling in money.’
‘You have your inheritance,’ Gavin pointed out. ‘And it’s yours whenever you want it. All you have to do is get Stella on board. If you can convince her that this is a good investment, she’ll hand over the money and away you go.’
‘As easy as that?’ Mac gasped. ‘You have met my sister?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Gavin said dryly. ‘I know her quite well. But she’s always had a soft spot for you, and if you just—’
‘Not any more,’ Mac said glumly. ‘Truth is, right now she hates my guts.’