Chapter Thirty
Autumn in Scotland was so gorgeous, even when it hadn’t fully taken hold. The trees were changing; the air was breezy, slightly damp, and filled with scents of the harvest. By right, Finlay shouldn’t be seeing it at all. He should be looking at bright blue skies, gleaming skyscrapers, palm trees and golden sand. Perhaps a quick scan through social media would show him his friends in some of his favourite haunts. Aidan’s girlfriend Lilah was often posting pictures of the two of them on a walk somewhere or other with Luna their husky.
But seeing it in person was so much better, even if he couldn’t completely chase away the guilt eating at his insides. Can’t see an engagement through to a wedding – or a job in a foreign country either, it seemed. The rational part of his brain – which sounded very much like the man driving him north towards Glenbriar from Glasgow airport – was telling him he was an idiot to drop out.
‘Oh god,’ he groaned at the thought.
‘What?’ Oliver said. ‘Are you ill?’
‘No, but maybe I’m crazy.’
‘I’d say there’s no maybe about it.’ Oliver took over exactly where the voice in Finlay’s thoughts had left off.
‘It just wasn’t for me.’
‘You were there a month. That’s hardly enough time to decide.’
‘I know, I know. I’ve beaten myself up enough about it. No need to add to that.’
‘I don’t get how you got out of your contract. Won’t you be fined?’
Finlay gave a wry smirk. ‘No. I had the option to leave before my probationary period ran out.’
‘So you did.’
‘Yup. Right from the start, a group of parents with too much time and more money than sense had run their own version of background checks on me, i.e. stalked me on social media. They knew all about me before I even arrived, thanks to Genevieve’s films.’
‘Oh jeez. I told you to stay away from her. Relationships are nothing but trouble.’
Finlay ignored that comment. Oliver was a one-track record sometimes.
‘Anyway, I stupidly told the principal we’d split up and he was pretty shocked that we’d only been together a few weeks, then somehow that info got to the parents. God knows how because Genevieve didn’t post anything.’
‘He must have blabbed.’
‘Yeah. I can’t prove it, but I suspect he did. I think they were gunning for him about a bigger issue, and he used this to deflect them. Anyway, it wasn’t a pleasant atmosphere, so I decided to jack it in. They think they’ve scored a point by getting rid of a teacher with no values but actually, it’s because I have values that I’m coming home.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yup. I value love above anything else.’
‘Oh Christ.’
‘Say what you want but it’s true. I just need to find out if the woman I love loves me in return.’
Oliver shook his head with a barely concealed snort. ‘And what about a job?’
Finlay shrugged. ‘There are a couple of jobs going. One of them is the one I left at the end of term.’
‘No one’s applied for it?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Would you want to go back to your old job?’ Oliver glanced at him as they waited in a long line of cars waiting at a roundabout.
‘Possibly. If they’d have me. I didn’t hate it. What I hated was the shitstorm surrounding me and Elise.’
‘Surely that’s going to be even worse now.’
‘Not if I can help it. I want to make things right with Genevieve.’
‘And how are you going to do that?’
‘By telling her how I feel and see if she wants to make the engagement real.’
‘Oh jeez.’ Oliver let out a low groan. ‘That has disaster written all over it.’
‘Possibly. But if it all goes pear-shaped, I know a very good divorce lawyer.’
‘Jesus Christ.’
‘No, you, but let’s hope I don’t have to call for intervention from either of you.’
The flat looked the same as ever when Finlay got back, but it was cold and completely empty. The for-sale sign was down as he’d instructed the estate agent to take it off the market as soon as he realised he’d be back. Oliver had offered him a bed for the night but he didn’t take it. No one knew he was back and he told Oliver to keep it that way for now. The stories his mum and Hayley would want to know could wait. He had a job to do and it couldn’t wait any longer. He had to see Genevieve now.
After dumping his stuff, he put on the only jacket he had, which wasn’t very warm but it would do, and walked towards Genevieve’s house. It was almost six o’clock. Daylight would hold for another hour, at least. Seeing everything familiar around him was like being cradled in a warm nest. This was where he belonged. The jetlag wasn’t as bad coming this way and being out in the fresh air made him feel energised.
It was an easy walk to Genevieve’s house in these shoes – not the heels she’d turned up in that first day. The irony wasn’t lost on him. If she’d walked home that day from his flat, he wouldn’t have had to give her a lift. She wouldn’t have invited him to the party and they wouldn’t be in this position. Maybe it was fate, after all. Fate or Elise’s nonsense. She was the one who’d invited Genevieve in the first place for whatever bizarre reason. His mum would call it destiny. Maybe Elise was always the one who could unlock the gateway to Genevieve. He sniggered. Ok, that was stupid, but musing on it passed the time as he made his way through the town and up the hill. He skirted by the road that led to his mum’s house and along the street where his aunt Tricia, Aidan’s mum, lived. He gave her house a wave as he walked by. Wouldn’t it be just the thing if she spied him and reported back to his mum or Hayley? But Tricia was usually occupied running the Crafty Bee Barn these days and if she was at home, she probably had her head down at a sewing machine making something.
The houses where Genevieve lived were bunched together on a newish development. Her house still had the for-sale sign by the fence with a giant yellow label Under Offer plastered across it. Her car wasn’t there and the lights were off. Finlay didn’t want to risk looking like a peeping Tom and press his nose up to the window to see if Mitzi was home alone. Casually he made his way to the front door and rang the bell. Silence. No barking or scuffling. They must both be out, but where?
She’d seemed so excited about the contract with Duchan Fayre. Could she be somewhere to do with that? Maybe having a business dinner with her old flame, James Charlton. Finlay didn’t want to think about that. If she had, then maybe everything really had been pretend.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back the way he came. How could he find out where she was? Would messaging and asking be a giveaway? He wanted to surprise her, but not just that. He had lots he wanted to say to her, but only to her face. Oliver would scoff or tell him the only thing she needed to hear was a gripe about posting his face all over social media. Thankfully he wasn’t Oliver.
Ok, he could do this if he worded it properly.
FINLAY: Hey, how are you? I have something to tell you about the sale of my flat. You’re probably wondering what happened. Are you at home?
He frowned at it. That sounded stupid. Why did she need to be at home for him to call her? Maybe he could say ‘at home or somewhere you can talk’. Except he didn’t want to actually call her. Not yet. He scratched the message and typed one to Hayley instead.
FINLAY: Hey. How are you? And how’s Genevieve? Is she ok? Do you know if she’s still living in her house or has she moved out? xx
It was possible she was out visiting someone but something about its vacant state felt final. Or was he just channelling his mum and all her spiritual stuff, making his imaginings seem real?
He walked briskly back down the street, past Tricia’s house, and on to where a little green with a pond punctuated the houses. His phone pinged.
HAYLEY: I’m good. Think Genevieve is too. Haven’t seen her for a day or two. She’s moved out of her house and is back with her parents for now. Why do you want to know? Xx
FINLAY: Just curious. Xx
Genevieve was probably wondering why her bid on the flat had been turned down. She might even have discovered he’d taken the house off the market. Hopefully he could tell her soon. But the Harrington’s house was a fair distance out of town. If he had his car or even his bike, he could do it, but they were both at his mum’s house.
Nothing else for it. He’d have to go there. Either that or call Oliver and ask him for another lift. He didn’t see that going well. It was only a short walk to his mum’s house from here. He quickened his pace. When he reached the door, he rang the bell and held his breath.
His mum’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as she pulled open the door. ‘Good god, what are you doing here?’ She clutched her chest, staring like she’d seen a ghost. ‘Has there been an accident or something?’
‘Hey, Mum.’ He pulled her into his arms and melted into the loving hug only a mum could give. She was tiny compared to him but she still had the ability to make him feel like a little boy again, safe and protected, always loved. ‘I’m fine. The job didn’t work out. It’s a long story but I can’t hang about. I need my bike.’
‘You’re just back and you’re going cycling?’ She frowned up at him. ‘With no explanation.’
‘I need to cycle to Greenacres, you know, the Harringtons’ house. I don’t want to drive. It’ll draw too much attention.’
‘I see. Are you off to surprise a certain Miss Harrington?’
He nodded.
‘Come to your senses, have you?’
‘Allegedly.’
‘And not before time. Make sure you tell her exactly how you feel.’ She poked him in the chest. ‘Then you can get back here and explain to me exactly what is going on.’
‘I will. Just don’t worry. Everything will be fine.’
She smiled. ‘I know it will.’
He opened the garage, dusted off his helmet, and put it on. His bike was cold and he didn’t want to waste time checking it too thoroughly but his mum insisted.
‘It’s been in here a month. It might have seized up or whatever bikes do. The last thing I want is for you to go off full of excitement only to have an accident on the way.’
‘Ok, Mum.’ He checked the brakes, tyres, pedals and had a quick scan over the bolts. ‘It’s all fine. I’ll send you a quick message when I arrive, so you don’t need to worry.’
She kissed him goodbye and he whizzed off, nipping through the woods and onto a track that led to the house. How often had he cycled up here and seen this house, never realising how significant a place it would be in his life? After a tough climb, he stopped at the edge where the house was visible. A small track led to a gate into the garden. The garden he’d proposed to Genevieve in a couple of months ago. Now he was back, he wanted to make that proposal permanent.
Dusk had arrived soft and velvety, not enough to obscure his view, but present. The lights in the eco mansion twinkled. Hopefully Genevieve was there. He just needed to lure her into the garden…