Secrets and Shadows, page 5
‘Louisa! Hi there!’ Isobel Grant, a wooden garden trug filled with white ‘pheasant eye’ narcissi over one arm, was coming up through the rhododendron bushes below the house accompanied by two dogs. She was wearing ancient gumboots and a rather grubby fleece. Isobel might not be conventionally pretty but looking at her bright, amusing face Louisa was reminded again of how attractive she was.
‘Oh, how lovely to see you,’ said Isobel now, dropping the trug on the bottom step and giving Louisa a welcoming hug. ‘I did so hope you’d manage to arrive before the others. It’s far too long since we’ve seen you. Giles and I were so pleased when you booked for this course. How are you?’ She looked at the younger woman appraisingly. ‘Goodness, you look well, Louisa – you look stunning!’
‘I am well.’
‘Of course you are . . . you always look wonderful but it hits me afresh each time I see you.’
Louisa stooped to fondle the ears of the little spaniel that was squirming at her feet, angling for attention. ‘Hello, Flapper,’ she said. ‘I remember you, of course – but who’s this other portly person? I don’t think we’ve met before. Is she new?’ and she indicated the extremely stout miniature wirehaired dachshund whose stomach almost touched the ground and whose rod of a tail was going like a metronome set for double tempo.
‘Oh dear – that just shows what ages it is since you were last here,’ said Isobel. ‘This is fiendish but ingratiating Lozenge and she’s four. Technically she belongs to Edward, but you know what it is with children’s animals. . . I do all the caring and then when he comes home she switches allegiance to him in the most maddening way. I’m afraid she’s addicted to eating baby rabbits, which is great for the garden but bad for Lozenge – and presumably not much cop for the baby bunnies either. This time of year she’s at her most unattractive, poor darling, because she blows up like a balloon and gets these bald patches from excavating burrows.’
‘I wondered if that hairless strip along her back was distinctive of a special breed,’ said Louisa, laughing, ‘a sort of short-legged opposite of a Rhodesian ridgeback – a Perthshire leatherback perhaps. Has she ever got stuck down a rabbit hole?’
‘All too often – it’s a constant hazard. We’ve several times had to dig for her and we all live in dread of her disappearing because Ed would be inconsolable if anything happened to her – actually we all would. You mightn’t think so, but she’s on a very strict diet at the moment!’
‘Well, it can’t be very successful,’ said Louisa. ‘I don’t think Weight Watchers would approve. By the way, I hope it’s all right that I’ve come round to the front?’
‘Of course it is! You’re special and I’ve given you a room in the main house with us so that you and I can have lovely gossips about everyone in between times – so we’d have to bring your things in this way anyway. Catherine Hickman’s over here too, but the others will all be in the new accommodation we made out of the old steading. How about a mug of tea before we get inundated with everyone else arriving? I’m dying for one myself.’
‘Tea would be ace.’
‘Let’s go and put the kettle on then and I can bung these flowers in water. It’s such a shame you’ve just missed the daffs.’
Louisa followed Isobel up the steps to the front door, through the hall and into the big kitchen, once the billiard room in Giles’s father’s day, and now the hub of the house.
‘Shall we take our tea outside?’ suggested Isobel. ‘I can’t bear to waste a moment of this lovely day – you never know when you’re going to get another one up here and you’ve been cooped up in the car all day too.’
They took a couple of cushions and sat together on the front steps, savouring the warmth of the spring sunshine and gossiping companionably while the obese Lozenge lay blissfully on a lower step having her bulging stomach massaged by Louisa’s foot.
‘How are the twins?’ Louisa asked.
‘Very well. Amy’s about to do her AS exams. She’s not sure yet whether to go straight to music college after A levels or read something else at university first and then go back to music later. Edward’s still at his special-needs Camphill School, near Aberdeen. We’ve got difficult decisions about him ahead of us because he can’t stay on in this particular school after he’s eighteen. Technically he’ll be an adult then but he’s still a small boy trapped in a grown-up body.’ Isobel sighed, then added hopefully, ‘But we’ve got over a year before we need cope with that problem, so I’m sure something good will turn up.’
Like all their friends, Louisa knew that any fairy godmothers who might have been present at the christening of the Grants’ twin son and daughter had not divided life’s gifts evenly between them. Bright, talented Amy was clearly fulfilling her early promise as an exceptional violinist, but Edward had always been different and fitted into no special category – he’d proved to be a child of heartbreak and triumph in fairly equal measure and Louisa could well understand that the difficulties, both for himself and for his parents, were unlikely to get any easier with approaching manhood.
‘You’ve just missed them,’ said Isobel. ‘They’re back at school now but you’ll see both of them at the weekend. Amy will be playing in the concert Giles has organised for you all on Saturday night.’ She hesitated for a moment and then added in a slightly constrained voice, ‘But we’re not without a child in the house at the moment, as you’ll no doubt discover. We have my small nephew staying with us.’
‘I didn’t know you had a nephew.’ Louisa was surprised.
‘No? Well I have – my sister Lorna’s little boy. Do you remember Lorna?’
‘I certainly do. She’s not the kind of person you forget! I knew her marriage had bust up but I didn’t know she’d got any children. I thought Mum told me it was one of the reasons for the break-up – that Lorna was desperate for a baby. Last time I was here I think she’d just walked out on that marriage and was about to come back from South Africa and descend on you here.’ Louisa shot Isobel a sympathetic glance. Lorna, by far the more glamorous but much the less attractive of the two sisters, had always been a byword in the family as a troublemaker. ‘You didn’t seem to be looking forward to it much!’
Isobel gave her an unfathomable look. ‘Yes, well, Lorna’s apt to have that effect on me,’ she said. ‘Anyway she’s married again now . . . she was always very good-looking, but in her forties she’s turned into a serious beauty – with the help of a few tweaks here and there – and I can’t describe how glamorous she is. She’s become the trophy wife of an American senator, if you please – his third wife to be exact!’ Isobel took a swig of tea. ‘Anyway, the senator doesn’t take kindly to stepchildren if they interfere with his plans. There was an SOS from Lorna and we were left literally holding the baby at very short notice, because they wanted to go travelling. There’s no date set for his return to the States yet . . . not what we bargained for at the start of our busy season.’
‘Goodness! How long has he been with you?’
‘About a couple of months already . . .’ Isobel hesitated. She said guardedly: ‘It’s a bit tricky all round at the moment, because Lorna seems to be incommunicado. Luckily I’ve managed to get a lovely girl from the village, who’s on her gap year and eventually wants to be a teacher, to help me. She wants to earn money to go travelling and doesn’t mind what she turns her hand to otherwise I don’t know what I’d have done. She’s been brilliant with him. Typical Lorna! She’s busy so she dumps her child on me – a child I don’t even know because Lorna went back to live in South Africa before he was born. It doesn’t matter to her that we’re busy too! Poor little scrap. It’s not his fault and he really is a lovely child.’ She added emphatically: ‘He’s a great addition to the household. We all dote on him.’
Louisa was just about to say ‘Tell me more’ when the dogs started to bark and went rushing down the steps as a small, fierce-looking young woman came stomping round the side of the house, carrying a large bag and looking like a thundercloud. She dropped the bag, and glowered up at them.
‘Well, thank God I’ve found someone at last,’ she exclaimed. ‘Are you two on this course too, and if so how the hell did you manage to raise anyone in this godforsaken place? I was beginning to think I’d come on a complete wild goose chase. I’ve been ringing bells and opening doors and shouting myself hoarse for ages and there doesn’t seem to be a sign of anyone about. What sort of a crap set-up is this?’
Isobel jumped to her feet and ran down the steps, beaming a welcome. ‘Oh poor you, I’m so sorry. I’m Isobel Grant. Welcome to Glendrochatt.’ She held out her hand, and asked: ‘And which of our guests are you?’ although she had a shrewd idea who it might be. The young woman ignored her hand.
‘I’m Marnie Donovan. I’ve booked into a course here. Don’t you have any staff around this place?’
‘Indeed we do. I think you and I’ve spoken on the telephone and it’s really good to see you, but you’re a bit early so you’ve caught us on the hop. We weren’t expecting anyone before five and it’s only half past four now – but don’t let that worry you in the least. It’s great that you’ve managed to get here.’
Marnie Donovan looked slightly appeased. She nodded at Louisa. ‘You on the staff here then?’ she enquired.
‘No,’ said Louisa, indignant on Isobel’s behalf at such unnecessary rudeness. ‘I’m on the course too – so no doubt we’ll be seeing a good deal more of each other during the next week.’ She didn’t sound as if she found this a pleasant prospect.
‘How come if you’re on the course and arrived even earlier than me that you managed to get some service?’ demanded the young woman.
Louisa raised a disdainful eyebrow at her. ‘Perhaps I don’t demand such instant attention?’ she said pointedly. ‘This isn’t a hotel.’
‘Louisa’s an old friend of ours,’ interceded Isobel hastily. ‘I’d asked her to come a bit ahead of everyone else so that we could get a chance to catch up on each other’s lives and we were just having a gossip.’ She hoped animosity was not going to spring up between Louisa and the new arrival, aware that, for all her charm of manner, one or two people found Louisa’s ready social confidence and quick tongue daunting, and thought her arrogant.
‘How lucky for you both,’ said Marnie acidly. ‘Sorry to interrupt your tête-à-tête and all that, but if it wouldn’t be too much trouble I should like to be shown my room now please.’
‘Of course.’ Isobel willed herself to sound friendly. ‘We’ll go there straight away. Where have you left your car?’
‘In what I assumed was the car park.’
‘Fine. You’re sleeping in one of the arts centre bedrooms so we’ll go through the house and out the back way and that’ll give you an idea of the layout. Let me help you with your bag – or you can leave it here and someone will come and pick it up shortly.’ She looked at her watch and smiled at her unresponsive guest. ‘It’s nearly five so our helpers will be back on duty any minute.’
‘I lugged it down here so I suppose I can lug it back,’ said Marnie ungraciously, though she added a grudging, ‘thanks all the same.’
‘I’ll come too,’ Louisa said to Isobel. ‘I can’t wait to see all the alterations and what you’ve done to the actual theatre.’
‘Good idea. I’m longing to show you everything.’
‘Would you like me to take my car to the car park too, or is it all right to leave it here, Izzy?’
‘Oh, leave it here – it’ll be fine. Right, follow me then.’
Isobel led the way, back through the hall and down a passage to the covered way that led to the theatre and across a courtyard to the pretty old farm buildings that the Grants had converted into accommodation for the visiting artists, musicians or students who attended the various events that took place during the spring and summer. She chatted brightly away, explaining about the changes she and Giles had made and how they had based their idea for the centre on the original fortnight’s summer music festival which Giles’s parents had started years ago. Louisa, who knew the past history of Glendrochatt and was genuinely impressed at all the alterations, responded enthusiastically, but Marnie Donovan walked along in silence.
‘Have you anything more you want from your car, Marnie, and if so would you like help to carry anything?’ asked Isobel.
‘I’ve got my laptop and a few bits and pieces – nothing I can’t manage myself.’
‘Let me take your bag for you then, and we’ll wait while you collect whatever else you need.’
‘Goodness,’ said Louisa as they watched Marnie walk across the car park. ‘What a charmer! Hope the rest of them aren’t like her. I don’t know how you managed to stay so friendly, Izzy, after she was so rude and disagreeable.’
Isobel laughed. ‘Oh well, it’s my job. We have to try to please the punters, you know! Wonder what’s eating her though . . . she looks so unhappy. But she’ll probably mellow – people usually do. She’s not the first tricky customer we’ve had and I don’t suppose she’ll be the last. See if you can befriend her.’
‘Hmm. I might.’ Louisa looked noncommittal. ‘I don’t like grumpy people. I’ll sit out here and wait while you take her in.’
After she had shown Marnie to her room, pointed out the bathroom and the facilities for making hot drinks, suggested that she might like to walk round the grounds – ‘Please feel free to go anywhere’ – and told her that she hoped she’d come over to the house for a pre-dinner drink at seven o’clock, Isobel collected Louisa and took her to look at the theatre.
Leaning on the windowsill of the charming little bedroom above, Marnie Donovan watched them go. They looked so relaxed and companionable, she thought, chatting and laughing together, with the dogs frolicking around them: the epitome of easy friendship. She could see two cars coming up the drive. Other participants, no doubt. More people to contend with . . . more people to offend . . . oh, God.
She turned back into the room, slumped on the bed and buried her face in her hands. ‘Shit,’ she said to herself, ‘oh shit. Why, oh why have I done it again? Why do I always have to be like this, alienating people before I’ve even started to know them?’ Isobel Grant had been conscientiously friendly, but there had been something about the way the tall fair young woman had looked at her that made her feel like a bit of flotsam washed up on a beach. Snooty cow, thought Marnie, who does she think she is with her wah-wah voice, her confidence and her airs and graces?
The temptation to leave was strong. But I will not be frightened away, Marnie told herself. This time I will not run away and I will do what I have set out to do. She thought of the person who had caused her to come to Scotland in the first place. You helped me once, more than you could ever know, whispered Marnie. Long ago, when we were both outcasts, and I have never forgotten it. Help me again now and I will not let you down. This place is just a stepping-stone. I will stay in Scotland until I have found what I am looking for.
Chapter Four
By seven o’clock all the would-be writers had arrived, been shown to their rooms and taken on a quick conducted tour of the premises; at eight thirty everybody was assembled in the smaller of the two conference rooms that opened off the enchanting little theatre for which Glendrochatt was justly famous. The theatre had originally been built so that Giles’s actress mother could exercise her histrionic talents on the neighbourhood, but he and Isobel had resurrected and transformed it a few years ago, commissioning a delightful and witty backdrop for the stage from the designer and muralist Daniel Hoffman, and turning the farm buildings of the original old steading into smaller rooms for workshops and exhibitions, plus residential accommodation for participants in the various courses which took place from early May to the end of October. Giles, who had a flair for talent-spotting, was justifiably proud of having discovered Daniel Hoffman’s work before he was well known and his prices had become correspondingly prohibitive. He liked to think the little theatre at Glendrochatt had been an important stepping-stone in Daniel’s booming international career.
Catherine had opted to eat by herself for this first meal and not meet her prospective pupils till later, but supper for everyone else had taken place in the dining room of the main house.
Isobel, an excellent hostess, always tried to inject the atmosphere of an informal house-party into any gathering to help break down barriers of reserve between the participants. She did not think the present group appeared to be a very homogeneous bunch so far, but as this was often how it seemed to start with she was not unduly worried about it. Giles, at the head of the table, appeared to be having a hard time between the retired teacher – a baby-faced blonde of uncertain age, dressed in a décolleté dress of mauve tweed worn with tangles of scarves and costume jewellery, from whose mouth a positive Niagara of words poured out – and Marnie Donovan, who responded to his efforts to draw her out as though she’d taken a Trappist’s vow of silence. There was something about Marnie that made her instantly noticeable, though certainly not because she gave off encouraging signals for anyone to approach her. Marnie could be really attractive, Isobel decided, if only she would smile occasionally, but as it was she reminded her of an aggressive small dog – a terrier perhaps – who at the slightest hint of unfriendliness from a potential adversary would be ready to spring into action and go straight for the jugular. Unlike the garrulous ex-schoolmistress, she seemed impervious to her host’s easy social charm, and Giles, she thought, looking at her husband with amusement, did not usually meet with such a lack of response from the female sex. She sent him a mocking look down the table and he laughed back at her, quick as always to pick up her unspoken message.
