Chapter 14
Unfortunately, Rosie’s good behaviour lasted exactly an hour.
After which, everything became a toy, from the computer wires to the chair and table legs and Fi’s shoes, even though they were still very firmly attached to her feet.
It didn’t matter how many wee breaks or ball runs Bex gave the dog; she refused to settle back on the mat and fall asleep.
So after one Zoom meeting where the dog almost unplugged the screen and an in-person meeting during which Rosie sat on the woman’s lap and tried to steal the rings from the woman’s fingers, she gave up.
Half dog, half magpie. Duncan was right.
‘Come on,’ she said, clipping the dog’s lead onto her collar. ‘Maybe the walk home will tire you out.’
As she clicked the office door shut, she pulled out her phone and tried once more to call Daisy.
‘I feel like you’re ignoring me now,’ she said into the voicemail.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d left an actual voicemail instead of a voice note or a text, but maybe that would get a response.
Then again, maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe this was just what happened when you moved away from friends.
You drifted apart. ‘Is everything okay? Seriously?’ she added.
‘I know you’re busy, but we haven’t spoken in forever.
Just send me a quick photo or something.
Claire said she’s popping down to see you at the weekend.
Maybe you could both give me a call then and we can arrange—’
A loud buzz cut across her spiel as the answering machine told her she’d reached her time limit. For a moment she contemplated again, waiting to be sent to voicemail so she could finish the message. But there was no point. Either Daisy would listen to that one, or she wouldn’t.
The thought filled her with a definite sadness, though she tried to push it back.
Wallowing didn’t help with anything, and she and Daisy had been best friends forever.
It was just a busy time for them both; that was all.
Or at least that was what she was going to keep telling herself until she knew otherwise.
‘Come on, you,’ she said to Rosie as they reached the castle. ‘You’re going into the kitchen with the others. Unless Duncan’s home. Then maybe he can take you out.’
After letting the dog in through the door first, Bex followed her inside. ‘Duncan? Duncan?’ she called.
Nothing. Though she waited a minute and tried again. After all, it could be hard to hear one another, particularly if he was upstairs at the other end of the house.
‘Dunc, are you home?’
A slight patter of feet from the library towards Bex told her that her fiancé was definitely absent. If he had been home, Kenna would have sought out his attention before hers, and yet there she was, rubbing against Bex’s ankles, purring loudly.
‘I’m sorry you don’t get to see as much of us as you want, girl,’ Bex said, leaning down and picking the cat up into her arms. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I wish we could spend more time with you too.’
She didn’t know why she was surprised. Just like her, Duncan didn’t have lunch breaks, unless you counted a sandwich in the car as he drove from one location to the next.
Aware that Rosie needed feeding, Bex placed the cat back and moved to the kitchen, only for Kenna to start pawing at the drawing-room door.
‘No, you know you can’t go in there. That’s where Amanda’s things are; the last thing I need is you getting cat fur all over them.’ As the cat continued to meow, Bex turned away from her and opened the door to the kitchen, only for a voice to call from outside.
‘Excuse me? Miss Barker?’
Bex stiffened. ‘Is there ever a minute in this place?’ Bex muttered. It felt like they were hiding in the trees, waiting for her to get home so they could knock on the door.
Leaving Rosie where she was, she headed back into the hallway. There, peeking her head into the castle, was a young woman, of a similar age to her, wearing a floral dress, embroidered shoes and a matching embroidered cardigan. It was flower overload.
‘Oh phew, you’re in,’ the woman said, smiling broadly and speaking with a local accent, although Bex didn’t recognise her. ‘I only get twenty minutes for lunch. Was really hoping I’d catch you. Seems like the fates are on our side.’
‘Yes, apparently so,’ Bex said, glancing at her watch.
She didn’t have another meeting for an hour, but she still had paperwork to do and Rosie to feed, and she had to walk back up to the office too.
Unless what this woman wanted took less than three minutes, then she was going to have to ask her to come back later.
‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’
Once upon a time, Bex might’ve felt bad asking such a thing. But it happened so often now, she was losing track of everyone in the village.
‘Oh no, sorry – my name’s Mrs Limes. Nat, sorry. “Mrs Limes” is what the kids call me. I’m a teacher at the village primary school.’
Bex nodded. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
So at least she knew the woman hadn’t been lying about having a short lunch break.
Bex knew teachers got long holidays in the summer, but she wouldn’t have done that job for love nor money.
All those screaming kids, no control over what they did.
No, thank you. She liked numbers. Numbers did what you told them to.
Numbers couldn’t answer back. It was numbers all the way for her.
Nat being a primary teacher also made sense as to why Bex didn’t recognise her. She suspected that weeknights at the pub were very much off the cards for her. Teaching thirty noisy primary kids when you had a hangover had to be as close to torture as was legal.
It was strange to think there were so many people in the village she didn’t know, especially when they were now tenants of hers and Duncan’s.
It felt like she should know them all personally.
But hopefully that would come with time.
Still, just because Nat was local it still didn’t explain what she was doing at the house.
‘How can I help you, Nat?’ she asked. It was a polite way of saying what do you want, because she was almost certain she wanted something. And from the way Nat smiled, she suspected the teacher knew that.
‘Well, I just wanted to introduce myself, for starters. The kids are doing a dance at the summer gala. My class this year.’
A dance. Bex’s stomach tightened. Was she going to say dance competition? There was no way she could judge a dance competition. She was judging everything at the gala already. There had to be someone else they could ask to do that. Surely?
‘They’re ever so looking forward to it.’
‘So am I,’ Bex said, hoping her smile looked genuine and not like the grimace she could feel was desperate to break through. ‘I didn’t realise the gala was such a big deal.’
‘It is. A very big deal. You’ll love it. I’m sure you’ve been roped into all sorts of things. Let me guess – they’ve got you judging best quiche, homemade elderflower wine, and every other category in between?’
‘Yes, actually,’ Bex said, laughing. ‘That sounds about right.’
‘The old laird had kind of stepped away from everything. Didn’t mind it going on, but couldn’t be bothered with the judging side. I think everyone’s just excited to have you and Duncan on board. They’re probably hounding you from every angle.’
‘Pretty much,’ Bex said, letting out a nervous laugh.
‘Well, don’t worry, there’s no judging for the dance.
That’s not what we’re like. All the kids are winners, as long as they try their best.’ She said it with a cheeky grin that implied she didn’t always believe that was true, but it was the party line and she was sticking to it.
Yes, Bex was liking this woman more and more.
‘I have to say, I love your dress,’ Bex had the sudden need to comment.
It was one of those things she’d been trying to do more – telling people when they looked great – and Nat really did.
She could tell that it was an outfit picked out for the children, to bring a little sunshine to their day, and Bex had a feeling that worked.
The schoolteacher beamed at the comment.
‘Thank you. I love it too. For school, that is. I’m not quite so over the top normally.
’ Bex laughed politely. ‘Actually, I bought the same outfit in green and red as well,’ Nat continued.
‘It’s a habit I’ve got. A foible, probably.
If I see a dress or top I love, I have to buy it in all the colours they’ve got.
I bought this sundress the other week in—’ She stopped, a pink tinge colouring her cheeks.
‘Sorry. Babbling. That’s another habit I’ve got. ’
‘Well, I can’t wait to see the dance,’ Bex said. ‘Especially if there’s no judging involved. And thank you for coming to say hello.’
‘No problem. Although…’ Nat hesitated as she pressed her lips together. ‘As I’ve got you here… I was hoping there might be one other thing I could ask.’ Of course there was. ‘It’s about bringing the children for a trip around the castle.’
Bex felt her smile tighten. It wasn’t Nat’s fault, Bex knew that.
The teacher really did seem lovely. But it would be nice, just once, to have a conversation with someone in the village that didn’t involve someone asking her for something.
Even Lorna couldn’t get through a conversation without offering something that needed tasting.
Although that was a burden Bex was happy to take on.
‘A tour of the castle?’
Nat nodded. ‘It’s something we always do with my class.
I didn’t even think about it until I saw the calendar.
We book it in for the same day every year, you see.
But that was before Fergus passed away. It’s meant to be happening next week – Wednesday morning.
I just wanted to check if it was still okay, or whether we needed to reschedule. ’
‘The tour of the castle,’ Bex repeated. It made sense. Of course it did. It was a huge stately home, and there was so much to see. But right now, it wasn’t exactly in show-home condition.
‘We normally just do a few rooms – the solarium, the library, the ballroom,’ Nat continued, as if knowing what Bex was thinking. ‘But you can tell me which rooms, and I can just go into those if that’s easier. Or we could visit it at another time. I’m sure the kids would cope.’
There was something pointed in the way she said it. The kids would cope. The last thing Bex wanted was for anyone to think the new laird wasn’t welcoming to the village schoolchildren.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It’s fine.’
‘Really. You can say if it’s not.’
‘No, no. It’s not a worry,’ Bex replied, grateful for the earnestness with which Nat spoke. ‘What day did you say?’
‘Wednesday morning. I’ll bring the wee ones straight down, just after nine if that’s all right for you.’
Bex didn’t know what her schedule looked like yet, but generally speaking she didn’t book appointments before ten if she could avoid it, purely because the roads could be blocked by sheep or tractors and starting slightly later gave people more time to get there.
But even if she was busy, she was sure they could get someone to open the doors and show them around. Roddy perhaps.
‘That’s fine. We’ll make it work,’ she said.
‘Amazing. Thank you!’
‘School visit on Wednesday,’ Bex muttered to herself, making a mental note to ask Fi to add it to the calendar later.
There was something else she needed to remember too, something else to do with the gala that she’d forgotten to tell Fi about, but she was sure it would come to her.
After all, if she hadn’t told her to do it straight away, then it probably wasn’t that important.
As Bex glanced out of the driveway, she noticed the little red Fiat parked up.
‘Are you driving back to school?’ she asked the teacher.
‘Yes. Why? Want a lift?’
‘If that’s all right. I just need a minute to feed my pup, if that’s okay.’
Nat glanced at her watch. ‘Sure, no problem.’
Not wanting to make the teacher late, Bex hurried into the house, where Kenna was still pawing at the door to the drawing room.
Although now she was on her back legs, standing up, with her front paws sliding over the handle.
That was a problem with having a Maine coon, Bex had discovered.
Not only were they enormous, but they were smart too.
Kenna already knew how to open push-down door handles and could flick open the lid on a tub of Dreamies without a second’s thought.
But luckily, the drawing-room doorknob was round, and required twisting.
Something Kenna was still a long way away from mastering.
‘I’m not letting you in there,’ Bex reminded the cat before finally getting Rosie her lunch. Then, after giving both animals a quick hug goodbye, she headed back out to where Nat was sitting in her car waiting.
‘Thanks ever so much for this,’ Bex said, slipping into the passenger seat and pulling on her belt.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Nat replied. ‘I owe you, and for more than just the tour.’
‘Oh?’ Bex replied, intrigued.
‘Aye. If they hadn’t changed the way they’re doing the judging so that you and Patricia are doing it all, then I was going to have to judge the Dog Most Like Their Owner category.’
‘There’s a Dog Most Like Their Owner category?’
‘Aye, and trust me, that’s not something you can judge truthfully. Not if you want to stay on people’s good sides.’