The Catch Up, page 18
Thom shrugged. “Is this where we say you can’t win ’em all?”
Jan wrinkled her nose. “Where whatever we say will be wrong for some people.” She ate the rest of her toast and swallowed the last—not almost cold—dregs of her coffee. “Right. I better dry my hair, dress to impress, or not as the case may be, and head across to the Dung Heap.”
Thom looked confused. Which, Jan reasoned, he might well do. “The what?”
“Dung Heap. The old stables where the offices are. Nicknamed due to the proximity of where, when horses lived there, so did the Dung Heap. The ones who have rooms on that side of the building swear the aroma still lingers, especially on hot days. Officially Effie Barnet House, but I bet if you asked anyone for directions to there they’d look at you with a blank expression.” Jan laughed. “Unless it was that Mr Donaldson. He appeared quite proper. I mean, his email even had my degrees after my name and I didn’t put them anywhere. Now where are my briefcase and handbag… Ah.” She saw them where she’d left them—on the side table—the night before. “Right. Must dry my hair and make myself presentable. When I see you later should it be here or where?” She held her breath.
“Oh here I think, don’t you?” Thom said, “Best place, and I do so want to get my feet under the table, or on you in bed if it’s cold.”
“Just as well it’s summer then.”
“Four seasons in one day, remember?” Thom said, and chuckled as Jan shivered in a most exaggerated manner.
“Don’t remind me. At least no hottie”—she paused and licked her lips—“bottles are needed tonight.” It was warm without more than a gentle breeze.
Damn. Where’s a cold night when you need one.
Just round the corner, Jan yawned. “I’ll be ready for bed.”
Thom winked and she giggled, a most unladylike noise that astounded her. “Someone kept wriggling. I’ll need sleep.”
Her mobile rang and she glanced at the screen and groaned. “Hold on, it’s Zac. Hi, what’s up?” she asked then listened briefly. “Yeah, wonder what it’s about. Right, thanks, yes I will.” She scowled. “I’m up and once I’m dressed and ready, I’ll head to the Dung Heap,”
Thom raised one eyebrow
Jan smiled and high-fived herself. “Day off. The Chengs have nipped—I say that euphemistically—to London, back tomorrow. General meeting still scheduled for day after. But with no Alex and Sasha to confer with, I’m not hanging around in case Lois is about. I’m going to play hooky. Want to come?”
Thom tilted his head to one side. “Would love to. However, Moss and I promised we’d take Shuggie to the wee cave. To be specific, the not much more than a dent in the hillside cave, if you want to stretch it a bit. I could be free from around two?”
Jan ran through her options. “Okay. Meet you in the cosy coffee shop in the village round say half two, three? Tea and buns on me.”
“Brilliant. I’ll cut and run now, and if I’m ready earlier I’ll let you know.” Thom kissed her in the way Jan had come to expect and enjoy. Deep, long, lingering and with feeling. It always gave her a wanted and cherished sensation.
She returned it with fervour. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. Jan took a shuddering breath. “As ever, wow.”
“Wow indeed. I love you, Jan. I hope you believe me.”
She’d never noticed such an intense expression on Thom’s face. Plus what? Hope? Worry? She couldn’t decipher it. She could reassure him, though.
“I do. I still do.” She stopped speaking and thought over her words. “Not still, not really. More I’ve discovered a new and stronger love. How’s that?”
Thom beamed. “Perfect. Okay, I’m off. Will sail through this morning on a cloud of happiness and see you later.”
Jan laughed as he bowed. “Make sure you Lois dodge.”
Thom groaned. “Hmm. Everything crossed she’s gone to London but I’m not holding my breath.”
“Nor would I.”
Chapter Eleven
“All right then, which way?”
Moss worried his lip as Thom narrowed his eyes. Thom ignored him and bit back the pithy words he would like to say. How many times did they have to point the sheep track out? He waited for Moss to explode.
“Up there for about a mile.” Moss waved vaguely in the direction they needed to head. “Like we said before.”
“Ah, I know, but you’re so easy to rile.” Shuggie grinned and ducked as Moss pretended to swipe at him. “Let’s get it over and done with, eh? There’s a pint of Tennent’s with my name on it. To say nothing of a wee dram. Hillwards!”
The last thing Thom felt like doing was clambering up the damn hill again just to show Shuggie how he and Moss could be camouflaged under gorse and broom, behind trees and underneath the overhang of rock the locals called the Pixies Cave. Said to be the meeting folk for pixies, or the Wee Folk, it wasn’t much more than three or four feet deep and just a little higher and wider. However, the way the rock overhung at the front gave a little more leeway inside, and as long as Moss and he were careful they shouldn’t end up with sore heads.
“I agree, Let’s get it over and done with,” Moss muttered as the three of them started up the track at a pace most people would complain about. “I’ve got a hot bath, a good book and a single malt with my name on waiting for later. The mood I’m in, later can’t come soon enough.”
Thom was in total agreement. The faster they did the necessary the better it would be. He’d want a shower before he headed to meet Jan.
“Lead on, MacDuff.”
Moss grinned and pointed up the hill. “Into the breach and all that.”
“Never mind any breeches,” Shuggie puffed as they skirted a wee lochan. “I meant tae ask. Did you hear aboot yon Donaldson mannie.” His accent increased as his tone became amused. “He telt Zac Whoosit that nae mair choppers should be allowed aroond.”
“No helicopters?” Moss asked as Shuggie did some filming. “Golfers have always flown in and out.”
“Aye, but he’s saying the fillumin will be too mony and scare thon animals. And Ernest Donaldson? He’s in deadly earnest.” He hooted at his own bad pun.
Thom groaned. “Argh, enough, please.”
“The man’s a bloody menace,” Moss grumbled. “Though he does have a point. The number of choppers will be monitored. It’s just his attitude that gets up my you-know-what.”
“I can think of a fair few people whose attitude does that to me,” Thom remarked as they continued to the cave.
Moss and Shuggie laughed.
“I bet,” Shuggie said. “What’s all this about you and Lois and the lovely Jan? Sounds kinky.”
Thom stopped dead in his tracks.
“I beg your pardon. What on earth have you heard?” He listened to his harsh tone and winced. “Sorry, Shuggie,” he apologised in a more temperate manner. “That woman is the bane of my life. Lois, not Jan. Not to put too fine a point on it, Lois is akin to a stalker.”
“Aye, ah did wonder.” Shuggie got to the cave entrance and looked inside with interest. “This looks braw for what we’re wanting.”
“Good. What did you hear about Lois, me and Jan?” Thom prompted as Shuggie began to film.
“Ah, that you and she were almost if not already engaged and then Jan did or said something and you ditched Lois for her.” He was silent then began to tell Thom and Moss what he needed from them.
Thom accepted that until their work at the cave was completed to Shuggie’s satisfaction, there would be no chatting. He was all businesslike, which, Thom allowed, was how it should be. He closed his mind to everything but the job in hand.
* * * *
An hour later they were halfway back down the hill and Thom returned to asking about what Shuggie meant. “So,” he said as casually as he could, “there is not and never has been a Lois and me scenario. Where did you hear there was?”
Shuggie shot him a sideways glance as Moss slowed so Thom was now nearest to Shuggie. “It was in the canteen one lunchtime. I think it was one of the production team she was talking to. I just heard her say that some woman had appeared and begun to attach herself to you. How it messed up your and hers’ relationship. Then someone else chimed in, ah, one of the makeup lassies it was. She said she’d heard you were engaged. Lois went sort of white and said you were hers and went on about being ditched. That was it until later when I was asked if I knew you and Lois had almost been engaged and you’d chucked her for Jan. It was hinted it was all a bit mysterious.”
Thom slipped on a wet, muddy, grassy tussock and stood in something slimy. “Shit on a brick. What did you say?” He moved his foot gingerly and somehow only ended up with one boot in a tiny burn, where the water appeared crystal clear. The state of his footwear clouded the water for a few seconds.
Shuggie guffawed at his predicament. “I just said I dinnae know anything and thought I’d ask you when we were up here. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Nae offence meant to you or a horse.”
Thom laughed at Shuggie’s hasty addition to his explanation. Moss whistled.
“No offence taken, mate, and no mystery at all,” Thom replied shortly, his mind whirring as he wondered what else could happen to upset his life. “There never was and still isn’t a Lois and me, except maybe in her mind. Goodness knows why, I sure don’t. She came on to me, I rebuffed her, she got more and more in my face. I ended up telling Jan about it in more detail that I had before.” He thought quickly how to intimate he and Jan had been engaged longer than people assumed. “We’ve known each other for years and been unofficially engaged for a while. With all this going on we decided we’d better make it official. Sadly, Lois still seems to have problems accepting the situation.”
He raised his shoulders and dropped them. “I don’t know what else to do or say, except she’s a pain in the arse and something has got to be done or said. If not, and she’s still around and being a nuisance, I’ll not be signing any more contracts, success or not.”
“He's not the only one,” Moss added in the grimmest tone Thom had ever heard him use. “Neither will I.”
Thom was stunned. That was the first he’d heard of it. He turned to stare at Moss, who raised his eyebrows. “I mean it.”
Thom opened his mouth to protest, but Moss shook his head. “Do not say a word. I’ve discussed it with Arietta and she agrees. I’ll be formally telling Alex and Sasha when they get back from wherever. Not up for discussion.”
The rest of the journey down the hill and back to the hotel was made in silence.
* * * *
Jan had watched Thom as he grabbed a jacket and headed for their buggy, which someone had thoughtfully brought up from the hotel. She reckoned he’d head to Moss and Arietta’s place and he and Moss would meet Shuggie. That meant Thom wouldn’t be alone for long and, as he’d said, safety in numbers in case Lois was around. The woman was so unpredictable, the less time she could catch Thom alone, the better.
Arietta! Jan suddenly thought that if she was having time away from the hotel maybe she should see what her friend was up to? She sent a brief text rather than phoning. Once on the phone and they were chatting, time just slipped away from them. She didn’t still want to be getting ready to head out at lunch time. The reply to her, ‘day off, not meeting Thom till later, want to catch up?’, came swiftly back. It was also short and sweet. ‘Damn and blast. Sorry I can’t—got an appointment. Tell you all when I can. Enjoy’.
That was that then. Jan got herself ready, headed to her car and by ten o’clock was on her way down the drive. She had no intention of hanging around.
The day was one of those rare summer days where it was warm and not even a hint of rain in the sky. The sort of day which, Jan thought with a wry smile, made you think there was nowhere better to live. Sadly, they rarely lasted for long, and grey, overcast and dreich weather made you wish you were elsewhere. Even so, Jan realised now that she was back in Scotland how much she missed it when she was elsewhere. If only she could split her time between Scotland and Hong Kong.
I wonder if I could persuade the Powers That Be it would work. It was something worth considering when the stint at Romansa Castle was over.
If I still have a job. Jan scowled. Oh, for goodness sake, enough already. Get a grip. And get on with getting out before the phone rings and calls you back.
As if on cue, her mobile rang. Even though it was hands-free, she ignored it. If it was important whoever it was would leave a message or get back to her. She’d check when she stopped in town.
She parked in a side street where a tiny car park had enough space for about half a dozen cars and was only half full. As she’d noticed there was a market in the town square, it was probably unusual to find a space so easily. Jan got out of the car, checked the ticket machine and realised why. Most car parks in the area were free for a four-hour maximum, this one was a park all day one but now it charged after half an hour. The fee was modest, but Jan reckoned a lot of people would avoid it on principle. That suited her just fine. Principles were all well and good, but not if you had to waste petrol driving around before you found somewhere free of charge.
She paid the money—no parking app in sight—displayed the ticket and checked her mobile. An unknown number and no message. That solved that problem then.
Jan headed to the market for a nose around. It was bustling and cheerful. Fruit and veg stalls stood next to each other, vying for customers. The fresh fish van displayed various types of fish and seafood on a bed of ice, and next to it Fred McSporran, butcher, bellowed out his ‘best price’ deals.
Raucous and it enticed the customers. His banter was funny, insightful and a lot of it regarding things very local. Jan noted with interest how his customers gave as good as they got.
It might not be a big market but it had all the necessities. In many ways it was so different from the markets in Hong Kong, but in others, very similar. Jan wandered around the dozen or so stalls, gave in and bought a box of strawberries and another of raspberries along with some home-made meringues and a pack of scones. With regret she gave the clotted cream a miss. As the day was still warm she doubted she’d get it home unspoilt. It was a pity, there was nothing quite like a cream tea whether you put the jam on first or the cream.
The stall keeper smiled at her. He’d obviously realised her dilemma. “I can sell you a cool bag and some cooling blocks if you want.” He winked. “I always have them cold in my chiller. You’d be surprised how many people want cream and forget sommat to put it in. A fiver and cheap at the price.”
Jan relented. She bet he sold a lot of them each summer. “Go on then, better give me one of the big tubs of cream.” She had a feeling Thom would make inroads into it when he saw the goodies it would complement. She handed her money over, accepted her purchases and a paper carrier bag to hold them and, after proffering her thanks to the stallholder, finished wandering down the row of stalls.
At the far end, tucked into a corner, she saw some pottery that immediately drew her attention. It wasn’t quirky like some she’d already looked at. It wasn’t chunky, or funny coloured. It was, she decided, classic. If only she had somewhere to use it.
“I like that, shall we get some?” Someone spoke in her ear and she jumped and spun around as Thom caught hold of her, steadied her and kissed her. In that order.
“Whoa, Ms Spinaround. It’s only me.” He grinned at her. “I thought you’d seen my manly presence.”
Jan glared at him. “No, you didn’t, you sod. You meant to startle me and I bet you were hoping I’d jump.”
Thom spread out his hands. “What can I say? It’s a fair cop, gov.” His accent was pure B-movie baddie.
It was a struggle, but Jan managed not to grin. “What would you have done if I’d fallen onto the stall? Smashed the lot? Or dropped my bag of groceries?”
“Checked you were all right and kissed any sore bits better. Paid for the breakages, picked up the groceries and replaced anything too mangled to rescue,” Thom said promptly as the stallholder laughed. “Said sorry and took you for a recuperative drink. All which I intend to do after we choose what we want. Everyday or special?”
The look he gave her kept Jan from saying anything that could be misconstrued. “Or both?” she asked in a saccharine voice.
Thom winked. “Great idea, hon. You chose the special and I’ll pick the everyday. Then we can see if we both like what we’ve picked.”
The stallholder grinned. “I like your style.”
So did she, Jan had to admit as she picked out a full dinner service in a pearly, almost translucent colour—or non-colour. She glanced across at Thom, who was obviously trying to decide between pale blue or green. As she liked either, she’d be happy with whatever he chose.
Why am I getting so excited about crockery? How do I even know if I’ll get to use any of it? Their relationship seemed as if it was really on again, but Jan reckoned that until the Lois stuff was well and truly over and done with, she wouldn’t know. Or would she? There was no point in wondering any more. She would just keep going round in circles. As long as she knew what her answer would be if he did reiterate a Jan and Thom together forever scenario was his intention. One they both wanted for no other reason than they were in love and couldn’t face the idea of not spending the rest of their lives together. Yes they’d both said that, but not really sat down and explained what each other meant by it.
Thom wandered over to her and casually gave her a hug under the watchful eye of the stallholder. “
“Earth to you, love.”
“Eh?” Jan realised she’d been staring at a dinner plate for ages. She put it down with care. “Damn. Sorry, in a daydream. Have you decided? I have.”
I think I’d like the blue for every day. That okay with you?” He picked up one of the pearly plates. “This is spot on. The whole shebang?” He waved his hands and gestured at the service. “For heydays and holidays?”
