Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
The next morning, as I descended the creaky stairs, padded my way across the cold flagstones and flipped the kettle switch on to make tea, I decided not to work from home. I was ready to begin the rewilding strategy for Stonemore Estate. Ready to deal with Tally’s snarky ‘jokes’. Definitely ready to spend more time with Callum, the man who had saved me from exposure on a hillside. Revitalised.
Plink. Sean.
Anna, can we—
Delete, because deleting him was a kind of ‘no’, wasn’t it? I had to move on from the past. Give myself some tough love.
Although, perhaps he’d cottoned on that I’d taken one of his sweatshirts, which I occasionally wore when I was feeling particularly sorry for myself.
Tally looked cheery when I went into the office. She was wearing red lipstick which must have taken her an age to apply and a houndstooth suit that made her look like Jackie Kennedy circa 1962. Meanwhile I was lowering the bar again: jeans, fleece, enormous waxed jacket, barely brushed hair.
I’d just logged into my computer and made a round of teas when Callum popped his head around the corner. ‘Anna, can I have a word?’
‘Of course.’ I picked up my notebook and my cup of tea. My stomach dived at the awkward look on his face as I followed him into the office.
‘Is everything alright?’ I said.
‘Yes.’ Callum was sitting up military straight, his hands folded on the desk in front of him. ‘Please, take a seat.’
I sat down and took a calming gulp of tea.
‘Right…’ Callum was looking as uncomfortable as he had when he interviewed me. ‘It’s just a small thing. Jamie’s asked that you report directly to me from now on, rather than him. I can pass on any headline points, but things should go through me.’
Right. Not a disaster, but perplexing. ‘That’s fine by me,’ I said. ‘But I thought rewilding was very much his project?’
Callum shifted in his seat. ‘It is, but he has lots to attend to at the moment. And as I said, I can pass on anything you need. He’ll read your strategy document when it’s ready, and feed back his thoughts to you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Through me.’ He hazarded a slight smile. ‘Unless you find working with me objectionable?’
I tried to ignore the little flutter in my chest and laughed more loudly than I should have done. ‘Of course not!’
He smiled, and bit his lip. ‘Good. For the record, I’d prefer you to consider me a colleague, rather than a manager, even if I am a conduit for Jamie’s instructions.’
‘Will do,’ I said, answering his smile with my own.
He gave a sigh of relief. ‘Now that’s done, would you like a hot chocolate?’
‘I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve it yet. I’ll make a start on the strategy right away. This afternoon we’re going to begin removing the top layer of soil at Belheddonbrae.’
‘By hand?’
I shrugged. ‘There’s no way of getting a digger safely in there. Don’t worry, I love doing this kind of thing. Oh, and I’ve already initiated contact with that charity I mentioned at interview – about reintroducing beavers.’
‘Grand. But don’t rush – we’re not on your London time here.’
I went back to my desk. Fi had arrived and was looking flustered. ‘You alright?’ I said to her.
‘Fine. You?’ She was distractedly putting lipstick on.
‘Yep. I’ll make you a cuppa,’ I said.
‘Are you obsessed with hot drinks?’ said Tally brightly.
‘Yes,’ I said, sweeping past her.
‘I’m surprised you’re still here,’ said Tally. ‘Jamie looked so grim this morning, I’d assumed you were for the chop, but I’m glad you’ve been given a second chance.’
‘Doesn’t he always look grim?’ I said, prodding Fi’s teabag into life and trying to ignore the anxious lurch my stomach had taken at the idea I’d annoyed Jamie again.
As I carried the tea over, Tally lined her pencils up on her desk. ‘You could have made me another one.’
‘I’ll make you another one when you play nice,’ I said.
‘Oh shut up, the pair of you!’ Fi snapped. Her outburst was so surprising, both Tally and I did shut up. Each of us quietly turned to our computers and started work. Fi put her AirPods in and fixated on a budget spreadsheet.
The peace lasted all of two minutes. I was just opening a fresh Word document and typing the words ‘Stonemore Rewilding Strategy’ when I heard Tally give a piercing scream. I looked up to see a flash of white and tan as Hugo, ears flapping, sped past. Like a stealth raider, he had run silently across the carpeted floor and snatched something.
‘He’s got my cereal bar!’ squealed Tally. Fi shoved the door shut as Hugo made a bolt for it. He came to a halt and looked up at her, mouth full of a cereal bar still encased in its wrapping.
‘Give it back!’ said Tally.
‘I’m not sure he understands that particular command,’ I murmured.
But Hugo certainly knew what she meant when she approached him. His ears dropped, his eyes grew distinctly darker in expression, and he emitted a low growl from the depths of his throat. ‘Oh, you little shit,’ said Tally, in such a posh voice that I almost laughed out loud.
It was at that moment that Jamie opened the door a crack and peered round. At the sight of Hugo, he visibly relaxed. ‘There you are,’ he said, swiftly entering and closing the door before Hugo could get round his legs. Hugo stopped growling, but stared mulishly at his owner.
‘He threatened to bite me,’ said Tally, in a severe voice.
‘Did he?’ Jamie wasn’t even looking at her. ‘He does sometimes exhibit guarding behaviour.’
‘Just let him have it.’ She sat down heavily and tried to look unflustered. ‘I mean, he’s a sweet little thing really, aren’t you, Hugo?’
Hugo glared at her.
‘Does it have raisins in it?’ said Jamie. ‘They’re very bad for dogs. Come here, you ingrate.’
Hugo refused to budge. Jamie reached in his pocket and took out a biscuit. ‘Thankfully I’m prepared for this situation ever since he ate Lucinda’s sunglasses.’
Lucinda . My eyes flew to his face. Perhaps Lucinda might be the key to his misery. His face was its usual set mask of chilliness.
Hugo was delighted at the appearance of the biscuit and immediately dropped the bar, which Jamie kicked clear as though it was a loaded gun before giving him the biscuit then bundling him into his arms.
‘Sorry for the interruption,’ he said, and caught my eye. ‘I thought you were working from home?’
‘I felt like coming in,’ I said.
‘Congratulations on finding your way,’ he said.
It was all I could do not to throw a stapler at him.
I made good headway on my strategy document but was also well aware that things were not right with Fi. Her expression was stony after Jamie left, and it was clear she wanted her space, so we all worked in careful silence. Halfway through the morning I happened to look up and saw that her eyes were full of tears.
I looked away immediately. Everything about her indicated DO NOT DISTURB and I didn’t want to initiate a chat in front of Tally. But when she got up to go to the loo, I waited for a few seconds then followed.
I caught up with her in the cold hidey hole of the loo, window open, obvs, even though there was still snow on the ground. Perhaps Mr I’m-a-poor-earl could save some money on the heating if he occasionally closed a window.
‘Anna?’ She turned to me, her expression neutral, the shutters still closed over her eyes. ‘Has Sean been texting again?’
‘Nope,’ I said. ‘That is, yes, but that’s not why I’m here. What’s wrong? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ But her normally sunny face was trembling, her lips pursed with the sheer effort of trying not to cry. There was something slightly scary about seeing Fi crumble in front of me. Her default setting was strong; I sometimes felt she was made of beautiful, durable York stone whilst I was made of chalk.
There was only one thing to do: I put my arms around her, and she sobbed on my shoulder. I had to stop myself from squeezing her tight, like she was a little child.
‘Sorry.’ Eventually she emerged from my shoulder and gave me a weak smile.
‘No need to apologise. I’m a veteran of the toilet sob at work. You should have seen the loos at Mackenzie’s after a restructuring announcement. Scores of men and women weeping, and it usually happened at least once a quarter.’
She smiled. ‘It’s all the bloody hormones I’m taking.’ She wiped her face on her sleeve before I could get a handful of tissues out of the holder.
I nodded. I knew Fi and Richard were having IVF; we’d chatted around the borders of the subject but not ventured into the depths of it. It’s weird what is veiled in secrecy, or is it shame? I could talk to her about weight gain, sex and periods, but not the relentless scramble to have a child. I’d been advised IVF wouldn’t help me, but that wasn’t the reason I avoided the subject. Every time it was mentioned, Fi’s shutters came down, as if she couldn’t admit it might fail, and couldn’t relax until the baby was there. Their baby – the one that already lived in her mind, name picked out, features decided. I knew about the pain of that.
‘This attempt,’ she said. ‘It hasn’t taken.’
I looked her in the eyes. I knew she needed a witness, not for me to look away. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. We shivered together in the icy draught from the window.
‘It will happen, won’t it?’ she said. ‘Eventually? Before our savings run out?’
I paused. The truth was, I didn’t know; IVF success rates were perilously low. I’d always told myself I would have kids; told myself that even as the odds shortened, until finally they crumbled to zero. But looking at Fi’s face, I knew she didn’t want hard truths. Right now, in this moment, she just needed reassurance.
‘Everything will be fine,’ I said, hugging her again, so she couldn’t see my face. ‘I promise.’
It was a white lie, but sometimes we need those, don’t we?
There are some days when I wish I smoked. Or at least had a reasonable excuse to go outside and scream into the wind whilst doing something vaguely elegant with my hands.
After I had settled Fi back at her desk, wrapped her up in my chair blanket (so I have a chair blanket, what sane person doesn’t?) and made her another tea with about five sugars in it, I went outside to have an imaginary smoking break, and walked to the ruins.
The winter sky was incredibly beautiful: the brightest forget-me-not blue, with black and white clouds scudding across it. I admit that within fifteen seconds my hands were so cold they felt like they’d been flayed, but I pulled my fleece sleeves over them, and everything was fine. Perhaps it was good I didn’t smoke because I’d get frostbite in no time. I stared at the castle ruins, fragments of sky visible through windows empty of glass.
‘Penny for them.’
I turned to see Callum. He was holding the penguin mug in both hands.
‘It’s chocolate,’ he said, ‘but I can’t promise it’s hot anymore.’ He handed it to me, then passed me a blanket he’d tucked under his arm. ‘As Fiona is using yours, I thought you might need one. We don’t want you catching a chill.’
‘Thanks.’ I tried to tamp down the little thrill in my chest at the sight of his smile, but there were some things, I was learning, that even my ‘No’ mantra didn’t take the edge off. His presence was so comforting after the emotional upheaval of the day. And yet he was – undeniably, if not obviously – sexy. Yep, Callum was sexy.
I took a mouthful of hot chocolate and almost choked on it. He patted me on the back as I coughed.
‘Thanks again,’ I was laughing as I emerged out of the coughing fit. ‘Aren’t you cold?’ He didn’t even have a coat on.
‘Nah.’ He looked out at the estate. ‘Got my long johns on.’
I gave a cry of laughter, half inhaled another mouthful of hot chocolate and descended into another coughing fit. When I looked back at him, he was smiling at me, and I didn’t know how to arrange my face.
Honestly, it was as if I was on hormones, as well as Fi.