Chapter Thirty-Nine
Clem looked up expecting the grandfather to have spoken, but saw two young lads looking at her instead as they threw themselves onto the sofa opposite her. Before Clem could reply, a young woman her own age came in and stopped short when she saw Clem.
‘Hello?’
Again Clem tried to reply, but Lynn returned with a tea tray and introduced her to Ursula and then left to get more cups.
‘The bairns haven’t been bothering you, have they?’ asked Ursula with the eternally worried air of a mother with two headstrong boys.
‘No, they literally came in here just before you. I’ve got two nephews though, so I know what they’re like.’
The younger lad had now got bored of the adult conversation, so went and stood by his granddada and pointed out stuff to him in the garden outside. The older lad sat quietly, trying to glean any useful bits of gossip that adults forgot you weren’t supposed to know.
‘Here we are then,’ said Lynn as she came back in with a cake and some more cups.
Ursula groaned. ‘Really, Lynn, I’m never going to shift this baby weight if you keep bringing out cake.’
‘I’ll just cut you a small slice then. How about you Clem? It’s apple and walnut?’
Clem joined Ursula in a groan and then decided when she got home, if she ever got home, she’d do two laps of the castle grounds.
‘Just a small slice as well, please,’ and when Lynn looked crestfallen, she changed her mind and asked for a larger piece.
Ursula laughed. ‘That’s how she gets you.’
‘Away with you,’ Lynn joked, cutting another slice and putting it on a plate. ‘Giles, darling, take this over to Poppa Alan.’
No sooner had Giles stood up than three men walked into the room.
‘We heard there was cake.’
‘Aye, and company.’
Again the family resemblance was clear; Clem was looking at two of Rory’s brothers and his father. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed. The older brother walked over to the boys and kissed them on their heads and then came and sat by Ursula. This was clearly Hector. The younger brother cut himself a wedge of cake only to be told off by his mother.
Lynn poured her husband a cup of tea, and he sat down and looked Clem up and down.
‘So who are you then?’
Good grief, thought Clem, were all the men in this family so blunt?
‘This is Clementine; she’s the new owner over at Ruacoddy,’ said Lynn sharply.
‘Ruacoddy eh? Do you have anything to do with this bloody stupid reservoir scheme?’
Lynn sighed and tried to interrupt him.
‘No, I’ll have my say.’
Lynn rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology at Clem, as did Ursula as the older man puffed out his chest and continued.
‘Rory’s been out at that this morning, putting everyone right. I said at the public consultation it wasn’t going to happen and I’ll tell you straight, it will be over my dead body that you’ll harm our river. What bloody fool is responsible for that? That’s what I want to know.’
Clem’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t care that she was sitting in this man’s house, she didn’t care that he was surrounded by his family, but she did care about being called stupid.
‘That would be me,’ she said in a challenging voice. ‘Have you a problem with that? Well I guess you have but until yesterday I didn’t know that the scheme had already been proposed and withdrawn. I would also add that the scheme was not refused; it was withdrawn after objections. We could apparently still go ahead with it, technically, but it seems like my family didn’t want to piss off the neighbours.’
Clem noticed the two boys by the window giggle.
‘Sorry for swearing. But honestly. I didn’t do this to annoy anyone. I’m just trying to find ways to generate some income that doesn’t include wealthy tourists. It looked like a good idea on paper.’
‘Well, it’s a bloody bad one.’
‘According to you. But I have to do what’s right for my estate. Just like you do for yours.’
‘Work hard is what you do.’
Lynn put down her cup. ‘Stop it, Alasdair. Hard work isn’t enough sometimes and Ruacoddy doesn’t have the arable land we have. Remember how hard you worked in the early days? And what was it that got us through? Was it your hard work? No, it was my knitting. And if you had had someone rock up and told you that they could damn the river and you’d make thousands every year, you’d have bitten their hand off.’
‘Yes but…’
‘No, enough,’ said Lynn, glaring at the men in the room as her sons recoiled. ‘Clem here is our guest and whilst she clearly gives as good as she gets, there is no call for rudeness.’
Clem stared at Lynn and looked closely at her cardigan. She’d lost interest in arguing with Alasdair when he had mentioned Lynn’s knitting and the penny dropped.
‘Are you Lindsey Gowan?’ And when Lynn smiled and nodded, Clem launched into a shower of praise at her skill with textiles and some of the shows that Clem had seen her work in.
Alasdair smiled at Clem’s clear enthusiasm and patted his wife’s hand.
‘True enough. She saved this farm, not me. I’d be there grumbling about her daft jumpers that no one would wear and then a cheque would arrive and we could repair the grain silo. So it went on until the farm was back on its feet. Do you knit?’
‘Not all women knit, Alasdair,’ said Ursula, and she turned to Clem. ‘Alasdair here’s a bit of an old traditionalist but his bark is much worse than his bite. He used to terrify me when I first met him.’
‘Don’t be daft, lass. Nothing scares you.’
‘I reckon I’d have been terrified if you called me bloody stupid the first time I met you.’
Alasdair Gowan hummed and hawed and looked at the ceiling and then looked Clem full on and apologised.
‘I’d be an idiot to argue with my wife and with Ursula at the same time. I was rude and I apologise.’
‘That’s okay. I tend to speak first and think later as well.’
Ursula smothered a laugh, and Callum came back in with a larger pot of tea and poured everyone a brew.
‘So you’re the wee lassie over at Ruacoddy then? Rory doesn’t stop talking about you.’
Lynn and Ursula both hissed at him to be quiet whilst the little boys grinned on in silence. Clem was about to reply when the old man cleared his throat and everyone stopped to listen.
‘Ruacoddy’s ours.’
‘Oh God,’ groaned Lynn. Leaning over to Clem, she whispered so that the old man wouldn’t hear. ‘Just ignore anything he says. It’s a bit of a pet rant of his.’
‘Ruacoddy’s ours and the bastards stole it from us!’
Alan’s great-grandsons looked on in glee.
‘Now then, Dad,’ interrupted Alasdair, ‘you know that doesn’t matter now; it was long ago.’
‘That thieving witch stole Ruacoddy from us!’
Clem looked at Lynn in alarm. ‘Does he mean me?’
Honestly, this was going from bad to worse, which was the exact moment that Rory walked into the room and she felt like she had just been rescued.
She watched as he looked around the crowded room in surprise and then looked at Clem with a rueful expression.
‘Is no one at work today? Jamie, you left the side gate open and the hens are all over the drive. Once you’ve finished your cake, you and Giles better go and round them up.’
On seeing Rory enter the room, Alan perked up and pointed at him. Rory had been his first grandchild and had remained his favourite.
‘Rory, my boy, they stole Ruacoddy from us!’
‘I know, Poppa,’ said Rory, ‘and I have a plan to get it back. We’ll round up some men and wait for nightfall. What do you say?’
Alan laughed and stamped his foot. ‘That will teach them. Good boy. Now go help your mother churn the butter.’ And with that he settled down to looking out the window again.
Lynn raised her hand and squeezed Rory’s. He always had the best way with his grandad.
‘Right then, Clem looks like she’s facing the inquisition?’
Clem was about to ask what Alan had been talking about, but realised any subsequent mention of Ruacoddy might upset him again.
‘We were just chatting about your mother’s fashion business.’
Rory nodded as if that made sense. ‘True enough. Clem does some sewing, Mum.’
‘Does some sewing! Honestly, Rory, the lass that made Mari Campbell’s wedding dress does more than a bit of sewing.’
‘Thank you, Lynn,’ said Clem primly and then smiled broadly at Rory for getting him told off.
‘Hmm, let’s get going before I get scolded any more. I found some fuel and we’ll get your car on the road in no time. Then I’ll get back here, Callum, and help finish with the cattle. Unless by some miracle you’ve done it?’
As Clem finished her drink, she listened as the family chatted about this and that and she realised with a pang how much she missed hers.
‘Hello!’
A voice called out from beyond the room and the family looked at each other in horror.
It is a universal truth that a group of people don’t know how to respond when greeted by a person with a brass neck. They all tend to expect each other to deal with the individual, whilst they themselves reel from the effrontery. Whether the person with the brass neck knows this and plays on it or whether they are truly unaware, is uncertain.
The door swung open and Janet walked in with a bright smile and a see-through Tupperware cake box.
‘Here you all are!’ As she looked around the room, she missed Clem who had sunk back into the sofa. ‘Alan, I made eclairs and I remember how much you like them, so I thought I would drop some in for you.’
She walked over to Alan and bobbed down beside him, smiling at the rest of the room as the old man eagerly helped himself to the chocolate-covered treat.
‘Oh hello, Rory. I hope you don’t mind. I thought you’d be at work.’
Like hell she did, thought Clem. And I bet she was planning to come back another day to collect the Tupperware. Was this how she planned to get back with Rory, slowly wearing away at him?
Having recovered herself, Lynn jumped up to greet Janet. She hadn’t seen her since she and Rory had broken up, and she never dreamed that she would walk into the house as if nothing had happened.
‘Hello, Janet. This is an unexpected surprise, and so kind of you to think of Alan.’
Without asking, she took the cake box from Alan and emptied the contents onto a plate and handed the box back to Janet. Clem was pleased to notice a slight pursing of the girl’s lips. Inviting Janet to sit down and join them in a cup of tea, Lynn waited until Janet was sitting and then introduced Clem.
‘…and have you met our new neighbour? This is Lady Clementine from Ruacoddy. She and Rory were just heading out.’
Clem picked up her cue and leapt to her feet, smiling at Janet.
‘Nice to meet you again, but I have to run. Bye.’
Janet’s face was a picture. As far as Clem could see the poor woman was struggling between a smile and a glare. Frankly, Clem though she looked like she’s smelled something nasty.
As Clem got up to leave, Rory also quickly got to his feet, telling the others to stay where they were. Making her goodbyes, Clem promised to call in again, perhaps more effusively than if Janet hadn’t been there.
She tiptoed her way across the gravel, despite Rory’s offer of a carry, and as she got back into the car she noticed a pair of smart wellies sitting beside hers.
‘They’re Jamie’s pair. Ursula bought him a new pair and he wore them just long enough to scuff them a bit before he grew out of them. It’ll be a few years before they fit Giles. So if you want them in the meantime, they’re yours.’
Clem was touched. She knew in a family things were always being passed around but it was nice to feel this family stretch out to include her a bit. They seemed a nice crowd.
‘Sorry about that back there. I guess it can be a bit overwhelming all at once.’
Clem laughed. ‘True, it did feel a bit like I was under a microscope. Sorry as well about interrupting Janet’s visit.’
Clem wasn’t really sure how she felt about Janet and Rory. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Rory either. An hour ago she’d wanted to throw rocks at his head. Now seeing him surrounded by his family she wasn’t certain. She noticed that Rory didn’t reply to her comment about Janet and wondered if he still carried a flame for her. She decided to change the subject as the land rover rattled across the cattle grid.
‘So, what’s the story about you all owning Ruacoddy?’
Rory groaned. ‘Sorry about that. Well it’s true that one of the Gowan daughters did live at Ruacoddy, and when her husband died her brother-in-law took it over and sent her and her boy back to their shack to die in poverty, according to my grandad.’
‘But that’s terrible!’
‘Aye, it would be if it were true. Like most stories, it’s only somewhat true. Her brother-in-law did send her back to her family, but Gowan is not and never has been a mud hut, and they didn’t die or else we couldn’t be descended from them or have any apparent claim. Which we don’t, by the way.’
‘When did this all happen?’
‘In 1689.’
‘Are you kidding?’ laughed Clem. ‘He was talking about it as though it happened in his lifetime.’
‘Nope. I love my grandpoppa dearly, and he was one hell of a man in his prime, but even then, he held a grudge, and my father’s not much better.’
They pulled up alongside Clem’s car and Rory began to fill up the fuel tank for her and screwed back the lid as Clem climbed up onto the driver’s seat.
‘What about you, do you hold a grudge?’ Clem asked jokingly, but she hoped his answer was no. She felt uncomfortable at the idea of being in his bad books.
‘Life’s too short; besides, Dad and Poppa were only-children. It gave them a sense of entitlement, and being the laird kind of emphasised that. Whereas, I have six brothers who all knock me into shape. I don’t have the time or the energy to hold a grudge.’
Telling her to turn the engine over, the car happily restarted after a tense few seconds. Slapping his hand on the bonnet, he headed back to his car.
‘Hang on,’ shouted Clem, as he leant out of his window, ‘what do you mean laird?’
‘Poppa’s the Laird of Gowan, didn’t I mention it?’ There was a big grin as he watched Clem’s astonished expression. ‘Oh and another thing, I had a great evening with you at Mari’s wedding. We should do that again sometime.’
And he drove off leaving Clem looking like a goldfish.