Chapter 33
After a quick stop at the reception desk to speak to Dante (who’s surprisingly amenable now that his role in Turnipgate has been exposed) I head outside, where a large group of villagers have gathered on the hotel driveway, Izzie and Ian among them.
‘Mornin’, Rosie,’ says Ian, as I come walking towards them, enjoying the feeling of the sun on my skin after all the rain we had yesterday. ‘Looks like more bad weather’s on the way; we’re going to have to try to get ourselves out of here soon if we’re going to make it back home today.’
Izzie nods, squinting as she peers up at the sky. I follow suit, seeing a few dark clouds, but nothing that suggests another storm.
‘Aye, there’s more rain coming,’ Izzie says. ‘Ach, look out,’ she adds, looking beyond me to the hotel entrance. ‘ And a bawbag coming too, by the looks of things.’
A few seconds later, Hunter joins us, Stevie at his heels as usual. I straighten my shoulders almost subconsciously, steeling myself for our first real interaction since all of last night’s – and this morning’s – revelations.
‘Bad news, I’m afraid,’ Hunter says without preamble.
‘I’ve just had a message from the power company, and the power to the village is still out.
It seems they’ve managed to find the problem, but we’re not the only ones who sustained some damage in the storm last night, so they’re having trouble getting to the part that needs to be repaired. ’
There’s a rumble of discontent from the crowd around us.
‘Well, if it’s a problem they were looking for, I could’ve helped them with that,’ retorts Izzie sharply. ‘There’s one standing right in front of me.’
‘Now, that’s not fair, Izzie,’ Ian says in a soothing tone. ‘It’s not this lad’s fault the power went out. We can’t blame him for that.’
‘No, but we can blame him for everything else that’s gone wrong around here,’ replies Izzie tersely. ‘I knew he was up to no good as soon as I saw that Black Shuck o’ his. You’re a Good Boy, though,’ she adds, ruffling Stevie’s ears. ‘It’s not your fault you’re a harbinger of doom.’
‘If we could get back to the issue at hand,’ says Hunter, who’s clearly aiming for a neutral tone, although his expression tells a different story.
‘As I said, the power’s still out, and there’s no telling when it’ll be back on.
In the meantime, you’re all stuck here until this tree’s out of the way.
I’m going to make a start on trying to clear it now, but it might take me a while; the chainsaw’s broken, so I’m going to have to make do with an axe. ’
‘I’ll help,’ says Ian promptly, just as I thought he would. ‘Then, as soon as it’s cleared, we’ll be on our way.’
‘I’ll help, too,’ says a man standing next to Ian.
‘And me,’ says someone else.
A few more of the villagers volunteer their services, and Hunter gives a sharp nod.
‘Fine by me,’ he says. ‘I’ll go and get some tools, and we’ll make a start on it.’
Seeing the opportunity I’ve been waiting for, I clear my throat importantly.
‘The thing is,’ I say brightly, ‘even if you can get past the tree, there’s no point in heading back if the power’s still out, is there?’
‘Oh, there is,’ says Izzie immediately. ‘We’ll no’ stay where we’re not wanted.’
‘But . . . but it’ll be dangerous,’ I protest, seeing my grand plan start to fall apart before I’ve even got started on it. ‘This won’t be the only tree that came down in the storm last night, will it? What if there’s more of them on the road to the village?’
There’s a short silence from the crowd.
‘Well, we’ll cut them down, too.’ Ian shrugs, not looking particularly thrilled at the prospect.
‘Rosie’s right,’ says Hunter reluctantly. ‘There are power lines down all over the place, apparently. The road might be dangerous.’
‘Maybe to you, city boy,’ says Izzie. ‘But me and Ian grew up on these roads, and so did everyone else here. Well, other than the ones who moved here, obviously, but they’re still one o’ us. Unlike some I could mention.’
She fixes Hunter with the kind of glare that leaves us in no doubt who she means.
‘She’s talking about you,’ Ian tells him, helpfully.
Hunter sighs.
‘Why don’t you all stay another night?’ I put in, trying to make it sound as if the idea’s just occurred to me. ‘There’s no point in going back until the power’s back on, is there? And there’s plenty of room here; isn’t there, Hunter?’
‘Now, hold on,’ Hunter begins, but Ian gets in first.
‘No, we’ll be leaving as soon as the road’s cleared,’ he says staunchly.
‘We’ve trespassed on his lairdship’s hospitality for long enough, so we’ll be heading home, power or none.
If the castle’s to be sold to this WanderNest chain, I suppose us villagers will have to get used to fending for ourselves, anyway, without the support of the Laird. ’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ says Hunter. ‘You’re talking like it’s the Middle Ages and Dougie’s some kind of feudal overlord.
He’s just an old guy with a house that’s far too big and expensive for him to run.
And I’m just the mug who got saddled with a problem he didn’t ask for, and who’s doing his best to solve it, in impossible circumstances.
You could try cutting me some slack here.
I’m not some toff who was born into this, you know. I’m not a laird.’
‘That’s as may be,’ says Izzie, pulling her cloak a little tighter around her tall frame.
‘But it doesn’t change the fact that the village has suffered since you’ve been here, and it’ll suffer even more if this sale you’re so keen on goes ahead.
Bawbag,’ she adds, obviously judging the rest of her short speech to have been too polite.
They glare at each other, like two gunslingers in a spaghetti western, and I experience an almost irresistible urge to grab them and bang all of their heads together.
‘Look,’ I say instead. ‘You’re all being completely ridiculous.’
I look around, wondering what I can do to convince them to stay. Hunter’s Land Rover is parked a few metres away from me, its roof covered in a light scattering of leaves that have been blown from the surrounding trees. Before anyone can stop me, I run over to it and scramble up onto the bonnet.
‘Listen up, everyone,’ I yell, my voice shaking. ‘Um, I mean, if you could all just give me a second?’
‘Rosie, what are you doing?’ Hunter says, starting towards me, his expression almost comically surprised.
I hold up a hand to stop him, surprised by my own daring.
‘Um, right. OK,’ I say, looking down at the sea of surprised faces in front of me. People jostle forward, so they can hear better, and I notice a few of them holding up their phones and filming me, presumably hoping for a viral TikTok moment later.
Well, good luck with that; the only time I go viral is when I do something wrong – and this time I’m absolutely certain I’m in the right.
‘I know you were all angry when you heard about the Hunter’s plans to go into partnership with WanderNest,’ I say, my legs now as wobbly as my voice is. ‘But, the thing is—’
‘To sell it, you mean,’ shouts a woman in a jumper with a picture of a cat on the front. ‘Partnership my arse!’
‘It is a partnership,’ I reply firmly. ‘The hotel wouldn’t be sold if the deal goes ahead. But it might not. And until we know for sure what’s going to happen, I think you should all stop being so mean to Hunter and . . . and throwing tatties at him. It’s . . . absurd.’
‘You’re absurd,’ comes a voice from the crowd, mimicking my English accent.
‘Hey! That’s enough,’ Hunter yells back, glaring at whoever it was. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but another voice cuts in first.
‘Can we throw tatties at him if this partnership does go ahead, then?’ shouts a man with long hair and an equally long beard. ‘Because we all know he only cares about himself and his money. He doesn’t care about us.’
There’s a murmur of agreement from the crowd.
‘That’s not fair,’ I shout over the top of it. ‘I suppose you lot know exactly how you’d run a castle this size, if you were in his shoes, do you? I suppose you’ve all got tons of ideas on how to pay the bills with . . . with tatties and leeks?’
Silence.
‘We’d do a better job than yer man from Glasgow, anyway,’ mutters the woman in the cat sweater. ‘That’s for sure.’
There’s no conviction in her tone, though, and no one tries to speak up in support of her.
‘Edinburgh,’ Hunter mutters in a voice no one hears. ‘I’m from Edinburgh.’
‘Look,’ I go on, wishing I hadn’t started this, but feeling like I have to see it through now that I have. ‘I get that you want the hotel to do more to support the village, but surely you can see this isn’t the way to do it?’
More silence; although this time there’s also a shuffling of feet that suggests the crowd isn’t quite as sure of themselves as they were before.
‘Would you please get down from there, Rosie?’ Hunter says, stepping forward and holding out his hand. ‘You’re making me nervous.’
‘I’m not getting down until everyone here’s agreed to stay and talk this through like adults,’ I say stubbornly.
‘We’re stuck until this tree’s cleared. The power’s still out, and there’s no guarantee when it’ll be back.
The road’s impassable. Even if you make it back to the village safely, you’ll have no electricity to go back to.
But we have plenty of food here, and I’m sure Hunter would be more than happy to let you stay another night if you have to – which should give you all more than enough time to listen to his point of view, and figure out some way to help him, rather than just attacking him all the time. ’
Below me, Hunter’s brow creases in alarm.
‘I wouldn’t be more than happ— I mean, sure, yeah, you’re . . . welcome to stay until the power’s back on,’ he mumbles, catching the glare I send in his direction. ‘If you want to.’
‘You heard the man,’ I say, straightening my shoulders like an army general. ‘You’re all welcome to stay, and I, for once, think you should. Now, who’s with me?’